#and he's the only one who can stop isaac and dracula before things can get any worse
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The Forgemasters x Dracula’s Daughter
A/N: So this is like if Dracula had a vampire daughter that was twins with Adrian, but she was on her fathers side about humans
Hector:
Tries so hard to stop simping, he doesn’t want to piss his master off and have him think he took advantage of your or something. He’s a bit more secretive and isolated, wanting to not socialize as much as he could avoid it and spend time with the undead, rather. But you wanted to get to know these humans your father trusted so much, so after visiting Isaac, you came to find Hector working in his quarters, a pile of dead humans in one corner while undead animals scurried about the room. A cat with half its muscles showing rubbed up against your leg and meowed up at you, earning Hectors attention. He was shy and tried not to look you in the eye, but he answered your questions and allowed you to watch him work
NO YOU SMILING AT HIM AND DRACULA GETS SUSPICIOUS IMMEDIATELY. He raises an eyebrow at you and you’re all “What? You picked a cute human general” “Y/N, don’t even think about it.” And you just laugh at him as he groans like the grumpy old man he is. You definitely like to flirt with Hector in front of him to make him blush 10x harder, and also annoy your father at the same time, which was always a bonus for you (you’re the only one who can get away with it-)
You liked to help Hector with all his pets, playing with Cezar and petting the cat, and letting the bird land on your arm to chirp and squawk at you. He always asks if they’re bothering you, and they never do, you enjoy keeping them all company while their owner works. Sometimes you’ll wander outside of the castle at night and find a dead or half dead animal on the ground, and you rush it to Hector asking if he could save it. You liked animals better than humans just like he did, animals would let you pet them and love them, human would point swords to your throat and calls you vile names
Isaac:
Isaac is arguably Dracula’s favorite of his court, so you probably got curious as to what was so special about this human in particular. So one day you wandered down to his quarters, hearing the screeches of night creatures behind recently brought to life by him. You stood in the door way to watch him, and when he noticed you, asked if he could help you with anything. You asked if you could just watch him do his work, curious about it, and he nodded before getting back to work
HE CALLS YOU MISTRESS Y/N, and gives you the same respect he gives Dracula. You ask him to just simply call you Y/N, and he bows his head before saying just your name as you requested
He doesn’t smile often in the show at all, but he can’t help but smile for you. Sometimes you ask to see his smile and he grants you that wish, sometimes your presence just brings a small smile on your face while he works. Even in front of the rest of the court, he’ll smile if you yell at Godbrand or sass back at Carmilla, and Hector just raises an eyebrow at him cause since when does Isaac know how to smile?
If you ever get into a fight with your father about what direction to go with this war and he overhears or witnessed it, he will talk down his master before following you to wherever you were storming off to. He allows you to rant to him, and you only stop when you hear a quiet chuckle
“Oh, you think this is funny?”
“It is amusing.” He smiles, before setting a hand on your shoulder. “I like seeing you passionate about things, is all.”
He has a hard time saying he loves you, the last time he said it he was beat harshly for it. You say it often, enough for the both of you, and you understand why he doesn’t repeat it. But when he does for the first time, neither of you realize it at first, but you stare at each other when you do. He doesn’t know how you will react, but when you smile and hug him, he relaxes into your gentle touch and reciprocates it
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I keep not understanding what exactly are Lenector shippers seeing in their "dynamic". At least they agree that it had poor development, but then what is the appeal?
If you like the abusive, toxic, manipulative, imbalanced, BDSM, "good boy" part of S3, there's none of it in S4. Hector and Lenore talk like good friends, without a hint of their previous sexual tension, unless her puerile dick jokes are what passes as tension now.
If you like them as foils, if you see Lenore as the only person who has ever been kind to Hector, if you think it's romantic that the two want to protect each other in S4, then you have to ignore or justify Lenore's previous physical, mental, emotional and sexual abuse of Hector.
And if the appeal is the "development" (which one of these commenters called "enemies/lovers", literally where, Hector was never Lenore's enemy, he was her victim)... then it sucks majorly. There is no development. There's a switch! Like someone changed the radio station! It's jarring! And there is no good way to fill in the gaps without downplaying the horrible things Lenore did to Hector, or without justifying them because "she only meant well 🥺 it was the best solution 🥺", which makes me want to tear my face off my skull.
In fact... Lenore really didn't develop at all. I talked before about Hector in S4, who regressed to the point where he'd want Dracula back just to feel better about his mistakes and never addresses his apathy towards humanity or his tendency to cling to people who give him scraps of appreciation, but a similar thing happened to Lenore. Remember these wonderful lines:
"Oh, shush, you were having fun."
"I'm sorry for everything you went through."
Lenore doesn't care. She doesn't care that she has hurt Hector, that she has used his feelings to lie to his face and force him into an arrangement he hadn't consented to. She doesn't apologize for her own actions. She doesn't even try to explain herself, only retorting Hector's understandable irritation at the ring against him - "well you got hard, what are you complaining about?". Because that's what relationships are in this show: nothing but "cute" banter meant to camouflage abuse.
Oh, she wants to "protect him"? Big deal. She still doesn't seem him like a person who can be hurt by her actions. She still fits the description of vampiric love Carmilla gave in S2. He's still her pet in her eyes, even if she does nothing with it. Nothing has changed. She has just lost sexual interest in him, because now it's no longer fun to put a leash on him and talk to him like a dog. She got what she wanted, so now there's no point in flirting and being nice to him :)
Lenore is nothing more than a power-hungry coward when you read between the lines, less interested in power over the world (which she dislikes) and more in power over singular people. She's happy to beat Hector to an inch of his life when he's weak and in a cell, to prove that she's not to be underestimated, but when she is in a cage, she won't attempt a damn thing to flee it or protect herself from Isaac. She stops molesting flirting with Hector once he gains more confidence, because flirting for her is a mere weapon to psychologically bend someone to her will. After she "solved Hector's problem", she does nothing but whine because she doesn't know what to do, because she feels useless - her spending time with Hector seems nice on the surface, but it might also be seen as her going to be a brat to the only one willing to tolerate her. And, of course, the dialogue frames her choice to kill herself not as her being horrified at her own nature and what it has lead her to do, because villains in this show get to be painted as tragic without doing the work to earn it (*coughcoughdraculaandisaac*), but as her wanting to flee her cage - her position of powerlessness. Not even spending a few more decades with Hector, the man she supposedly has grown to care about and who only wants her in his life, is worth not being in total control.
And the clincher? This doesn't sound bad for a villain! Selfish and pathetic at the same time, under a veneer of "kindness" or "good intentions": that's interesting! And if this had been intended, good job for not spelling it out like I'm stupid, allowing me to put the pieces together? Problem is, the story and its fans insist that actually Lenore is a great person and she really liked Hector no really they should have stayed together and married each other because aren't they so uwu and 🥺 and why couldn't the story give the abusive rapist a second chance 🥺
And I can't see it. I can't. The deeper I look into this story, the more rot I unearth. And it's definitely not because I don't like unhealthy ships; in fact it's precisely because of it that I think this example is terrible. I haven't even touched other issues such as how I don't care for the power imbalance because I'm prevented from caring for the lump of flesh in the shape of Hector in S3 lol.
And to be honest, the more I see fans complaining about the lack of screentime, the more I suspect that the appeal of Lenector is the same as Trephacard's: you get to make shit up in your head and ignore what the screen shows you. Which sure you can do that, but then the actual story doesn't deserve praise, does it?
#anti netflixvania#i feel weird when i complain when a villain behaves like a horrible person lol#but like. look at the apologism here!#you can't be all 🥺 in my ears trying to convince me that all these pieces of shit (lenore dracula and isaac) are not so bad after all!#commit! character development implies *development* not suddenly asking to be pitied or celebrated#also yeah#lenore thoughts#because there are four characters under her wig and i like to explore all of them lol#she could have been so good guys. i'm so pissed off
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Top 10 Grim Reaper Battles from Castlevania
We’re taking a slight detour on my “Dracula Month” extravaganza to look at something not necessarily directly involving the Count, but instead closely related to him. Earlier this month, I made a list of my favorite Dracula Boss Battles from Castlevania: one of my favorite video game franchises of all time. I think it’s only fair that I give the other main antagonist of the series some credit, as well. I speak, of course, of the Grim Reaper himself: Death.
Just like Dracula in the Castlevania series (as well as both Dracula and Castlevania in general), Death has evolved and taken on several different roles within the franchise. In some continuities he is Dracula’s right-hand skeleton, and the closest thing the King of the Vampires has to a friend. In other continuities, their relationship is far less chummy. Regardless, however, the spirit of Death and the Prince of Darkness are inextricably linked in each rendition: just as closely connected to Dracula as the Belmonts may be.
No matter the incarnation, the specter of the Grim Reaper hangs over the whole franchise: every Castlevania universe features him to some greater or lesser degree, and nearly every single game features Death as either a major villain, a noteworthy boss fight, or both. So, having already discussed Dracula himself, it’s time to give the other main villain of this series some kudos. These are My Top 5 Death Battles (not THAT kind of Death Battle, YouTube lovers) from Castlevania!
5. Super Castlevania IV.
Arguably the most classic of classics. It’s honestly hard for me to say why I like this particular battle with the Reaper so much, compared to a lot of others. It’s not the most challenging of the bunch, it’s not the most spectacular visually, and since this game is MUCH more focused on gameplay than story, there’s no personal touch to it: Death is one of the final bosses in the game, sure, but it’s not like he’s been causing trouble for us before we meet him. For whatever reason, however, this version has always stuck with me: something about the particularly moldy-looking design, the ghostly way Death phases and floats around the field, the glowing red eyes, and the tense music in the background…it lends a sense of atmosphere that sticks with me strongly. Not much else to say, I just…really like this one, plain and simple.
4. Curse of Darkness.
Throughout “Curse of Darkness,” our main character - Hector - has encounters with a recurring, mysterious figure called “Zead.” He claims to be a man of the cloth, who offers Hector help in tracking down the Devil Forgemaster’s nemesis, Isaac. However, it’s made pretty clear from the start that Zead is untrustworthy: we know that, whyever he’s doing what he does, it can’t be good. Finally, the shoe drops as Zead reveals he’s actually the Grim Reaper himself, disguised in human form, and has been using Hector to find a way to bring Count Dracula back from the grave. Naturally, Hector - who has been trying to find a way to stop this exact thing from happening - can’t allow this. Thus, Zead takes on a monstrous true form, and the boss battle commences. During this battle, Death remains static in the center of the battlefield…but if you think this makes things much easier, think again. The Reaper spends the battle hurling various magical sickles at you, and using either his scythe or a fiery punch to swing at you when you get too close for too long. Once you remove enough help from Death’s life bar, he summons a fireball and creates a powerful explosion, engulfing nearly the entire field. If a player is quick and cunning, they can use this opportunity to grab a rare item from the Reaper to create the “Death’s Pulse” weapon…but again, if you think wielding that will make the battle a lot easier, think again. It’s still cool to have, though.
3. Dracula X Chronicles.
As a brief reminder, “Dracula X Chronicles” is 3D graphics remake of the earlier Castlevania game “Rondo of Blood.” Death’s battle is therefore basically a visually updated version of the same boss from that title. Early in the game, the Reaper appears in a prologue tutorial, helping the player (in the role of Richter Belmont) learn the ropes of using their weapon and basic moves. Once defeated, he retreats, but promises to come back. Sure enough, later in the story, Death returns to stop the protagonists from progressing any further. In his first form, Death floats about the field, hurling miniature sickles and summoning flaming skulls to attack the player. Once he loses enough health, Death transforms into a more traditional-looking version of the Grim Reaper - hooded cloak, giant scythe, and all - and fights the player more directly, using leaping and slashing attacks to combat his opponents. It’s a quintessential battle with the character for these games, and one of the first I think of.
2. Lament of Innocence.
This game is the prologue/prequel to the entire “classic era” of Castlevania. It tells the story of how the feud between Dracula and the Belmont Family began…but Dracula, himself, is not actually the final boss of the game. In fact, this is one of the few games of the franchise where Dracula isn’t fought at all. Instead, the final boss of the game is Death, as the game also shows how the Grim Reaper became the vampire’s chief flunky. After being summoned by Mathias Cronqvist (the man who, in the original Castlevania continuity, later becomes Count Dracula), Death squares off with the sire of the Belmont Clan, Leon, at the end of the monster hunter’s journey. This battle is sort of a cross between the two previous bosses: Death floats (and sometimes teleports) around the arena, sticking to the edges of the battlefield. Throughout the fight, he alternates between swinging his scythe and hurling it like a bloodstained boomerang, and summons exploding skulls and wisping ghosts to chase and attack the player. Sub-Weapons do not work on this boss at all; attempting to use them only causes them to backfire on the main character, which naturally just makes this boss all the more challenging. As the battle rages on, Death becomes more elusive, more hard-hitting, and gains new attacks to try and strike the Leon down. For many fans, this extremely wild and difficult boss fight was and still is Death’s finest moment…yet it’s only second place for me. So…what could top it?
1. Lords of Shadow II.
In the universe of “Lords of Shadow” - a trilogy of games that attempted to reboot the Castlevania series, with its own unique continuity - Death is given the true name “Zobek,” and his role in the series is changed. Instead of being depicted as Dracula’s faithful lieutenant, like in all the other games on this list, Zobek is instead Dracula’s nemesis, as he is either directly or indirectly responsible for everything wrong that goes on in the Count’s life, both before and after his transformation into a vampire. After two games where we never faced Zobek directly in combat, the penultimate boss battle of the game - pitting him against Dracula - felt SO satisfying and exciting to play through. There are four reasons this fight is great, in my opinion. One: the battle itself. It’s just a fun and challenging ride, as Zobek alternates wielding his flail-like death’s scythe and summoning hordes of zombies to fight Dracula. Two, and tied to that point: the fact we get to play AS Dracula, while fighting Death. It’s pitting the two main antagonists of the entire franchise, and arguably the two most important characters in the “Lords of Shadow” universe, specifically, against one another. That’s just AWESOME. Three, and again tied to THAT point: the personal connection. Dracula and Death have a lot of history with each other in this universe, both good and bad, which makes this encounter more meaningful than arguably any other boss fight against the Grim Reaper in the entire franchise. Fourth, and finally: Zobek is voiced by PATRICK. GOD-DANG. STEWART. And MAN, does he deliver! Stewart’s boss dialogue is absolutely golden, and is the ripe cherry on the dark, rich cake for this whole encounter: hearing him bellow lines like “Chamberlains! Let the banquet begin!” and “You’ve never been a match for me!” is just glorious. I know placing a boss from the reboot trilogy will probably be controversial for many, but for me? This battle with Death trumps even “Lament of Innocence,” and by a pretty wide margin, to be honest. It is easily my favorite boss battle against the Grim Reaper in the entire Castlevania franchise.
And if you have any problems with that? “MAY YOU AND YOUR SPAWN BE DAMNED FOREVER!” (I really freaking LOVE that line. God bless Patrick Stewart.)
HONORABLE MENTIONS INCLUDE…
Symphony of the Night.
A classic game and a classic appearance of the Grim Reaper: after stealing all your goodies at the start of the adventure, it’s good to finally get a chance to use all the things you’ve regathered against Death near the end. However, the fight is ultimately surprisingly easy, compared to many others, and I’m not fond of the design Death has in the second stage of the battle.
Portrait of Ruin.
The Grim Reaper’s solo battle is ultimately overshadowed by the battle with Dracula AND Death, together, at the end, which is why this one gets just an Honorable Mention. It’s still a good battle, though; Death takes on two forms throughout the fight, one which is specifically weak to Jonathan Morris’ attacks, and one which is specifically affected by his friend Charlotte’s. Great way to use the buddy system here!
Dawn of Sorrow.
Not much to say about this one, to be honest; just a solid battle against the Grim Reaper with two fun stages. I love the look of the second stage, very unique while still feeling like…well…the Reaper. Take notes, Symphony of the Night. :P
The Adventure ReBirth.
I haven’t actually fought this boss, and I don’t know much about this entry in the series in general, to be honest. However, the battle certainly LOOKS like a good one, and I love the design of Death in this particular game, so I still feel I can give this an Honorable Mention.
#list#countdown#best#favorites#boss battles#boss fights#death#grim reaper#castlevania#video games#dracula month
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We need to give Saint Germaine more love. This man is not only the best character introduced in season three of Castlevania but he also helps carry Trevor and Sypha's storyline by introducing the most interesting world building in the series. Like Saint Germaine just strolls into this small town looking for a magic gem only for him to get embroiled in this church's cult of Dracula (ft the huge ass night creature Isaac brought to the fold off screen). Then when Trevor and Sypha finally turn to him since he's charming enough to get into the church he just drops the existence of interdimensional travel on these two because he's a lonely, wet rat of a man who just needed to vent. And the revelation itself is done in such a jarring way that you're hooked even if it's exposition.
Plus I love the implications of this desperate 1470s man going through the eldritch horrors of comprehending alchemy and interdimensional travel just to save his girlfriend. It adds a whole new level of horror since it shows the audience that huge power houses like Dracula are small and all too human in the grand scheme of things. Not only that Saint Germaine serves as a parallel to Dracula and reinforces the theme of love in Castlevania by showing us how much grief for a loved one can weigh on someone before they break. He's given himself this verifiably impossible goal by scouring the multiverse for his girlfriend and at first it's only a him problem.
And then the night creature and the cult of Dracula actually open a portal to hell. It's horrific. :) Fortunately the night creature is stopped but it was just a warning, a precursor to something worse.
Then season 4 roles around and Saint Germaine finally snaps. Not only does his fall allow him to be even more charismatic but he becomes the linchpin for the entire season. Without him we don't get to see Varney reveal his true colors, we don't get to build upon the cult of personality Dracula accidentally created or tie our characters storylines together. And without Saint Germaine and him bringing true alchemy into the fold we wouldn't get the Rebis. Plain and simple. Even if season 4 was rushed and the Rebis didn't stay long we have Saint Germaine's role in the story to thank for the awesome climax we did get. Unfortunately he'll never get to climax.
#Saint Germaine#Castlevania#Castlevania Spoilers#Castlevania Season 3 Spoilers#Castlevania Season 4 Spoilers#this man was season 3's Isaac with a lore bonus#but no one is beating the icon that is Vlad Dracula Tepes <3#Morana and Stringa deserve some credit too#Lenore Sumi and Taka deserve nothing 💔
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So I return the favor: your top 10 reasons you fell into Hecula hell? 👀💖
>:)
10- You. (you know what you did. >:<)
9- The parallels with Hector being like a "good" version of Dracula (with his own shades of gray <3)
8- Dracula seeing Hector as his creation :) And his best, thus far, considering how he favors him and made him his protégé :)
7- The power imbalance. Dracula is the Dark Lord, the most powerful evil being, Hector's master and father figure. Hector is just the boy who asked him for power and a home and love and who has no one else but him. <3 Unlike ISAAC, Dracula actually loves him over anyone else...
6- I lied, he doesn't. Lol. Dracula loves himself more. <3 (what is it with Hector and falling for men who prefers Dracula lmfao trevor don't you dare) And what he loves in Hector are things he sees as being the result of his doing, his teachings. Because he got a big ego and barely sees Hector as his own person <3 The fact that, once the possibility that Hector might have betrayed him, his first reaction was to ask for him back so he could basically torture him (turn him into a demon to drink sewage forever), while at the SAME TIME, "hope that [he is] mistaken" and is like "if he's dead, it's fine", shows that though he cares deeply enough to hope Hector didn't betray him... it's not deeply enough to be sad about him dying (or at least, not too much. just as sad as one would be in front of their broken toy :3). Or even start to forgive him for going against him. :) How dare he? Did he really thought he was important enough to be allowed that? That he had agency? Lol, lmao. Learn your place, love. <3
5- Dracula is a manipulative bastard (affectionate). Because Hector was never loved by any of his parents, and straight up ignored by his father, AND no one liked him outside of them anyway, he has no idea how healthy relationships looks like and what parental love should be like. So when he arrived in the Castle, he was like a blank paper-sheet, waiting for Dracula to write whatever he wanted in it :)
4- Hector doesn't have anyone else to love and be loved by <3 (he used to think he had Isaac, before he realizes how Dracula-centered he was. lol) No one showed him true passion like Dracula did :)
3- Even though he has all the good reasons to be completely brainwashed and convinced Dracula is the best and 100% right in everything, Hector somehow isn't. :) He still has his strong character, his boldness, his convictions. And even if he clearly loves Dracula and fear him all the same, he still finds the courage to go against him. Particularly like the version where he begs on his knees for Dracula to stop, thinking he might listen to him, only to get coldly ignored <3
2- Hector is Dracula's specialest boy and it can be literally so cute but can also be so fucked up especially since [insert number 6]🥺
1- Dehumanization... or the attempt at it :) Dracula doesn't love Hector for the person he is, but what he made out of him, and what he can give him. :) A replacement for his late wife? <3 A body to use as he see fit? <3 A general to lead his war for him? <3 A companion when he wants to rest? <3 Or a voice to listen to when he wants to relax? <3 Anything he wants out of Hector, he gets it. And it doesn't matter if he wants or not, it doesn't matter what he feels, he became his the moment he step foot in his Castle. The only moment Hector's feelings matters are when Dracula can use them for his own benefit and manipulate him <3 And yet Hector keep fighting back, fighting for his identity, for his humanity. Yes he has his moments of weakness, of helplessness in Dracula's arms... but he never truly lost what made him Hector. We all know how that ship end >:)
And then ofc there's your top and the 11th reason because there's too many to explain why I fell into this hell to be able to resume it into one top <3
Oh and before i forget
0- The pseudo-incestuous undertones that are EVERYWHERE
#that was hard#and i am once again not sure i did justice to my love for the ship#so many reasons to ship... so many reasons to sink deeper into the hell...#i love the them they're horrible <3#Dracula be a big fan of Hector until he does something he dislikes :)#castlevania#beevean ask#hecula#vlad dracula tepes#hector castlevania#castlevania ship
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Ok, so... Moon Knight 13 had a couple of things I predicted, a couple I didn't like, a couple I loved.
Cut for spoilers
SO yeah, Soldier is a vamp now. They're pushing HARD the Reese/Soldier ship, btw. This was coming a mile away, and I honestly wish they had gone another way because... I kinda am tired of vegan vamps. And the whole vamp thing with Avengers? Ugh. So... yeah, tired of vamps. Especially MLM vamps.
Also, well, the issue seems quite hurried to get back to the Boys all being in contact with each other, rather than Marc doing his usual "I put you all in boxes and ignore you completely" that has worked "so well" in comics so far, so I really, really bet this is MCU synergy and panic at work. As in "you NEED to put the guys in contact with each other ASAP before we lose the new eyes Oscar Isaac gave us", which, unfortunately, leads to the whole Zodiac thing being quite abrupt, and even this Tutor guy? Like, it was six issues worth of exposition in one.
(also, really, MLM vamp, you are sooo behind the times. Dracula is a MU character, the whole "I am the only source of vampirism in town" spiel can be contradicted in half a Dr. Strange issue)
That's for the predictions.
Things I didn't like
We're back to Marc, and to Marc taking actions done by someone else as something HE is to blame for. Seriously, why is he going to therapy if he's not listening?
Also, he seemed to just... brush the fact that Steven went out? And that obviously Steven and Jake are no longer trapped inside him?
And Marc wearing the frigging Mask. Look, I LOVE Mr. Knight's look, but I want to see Marc (and Steven, and Jake) OUT of the Super suit, please.
I also didn't like how apparently Steven came, introduced himself, let Marc get the wheel again... and NO ONE explained anything to Reese.
(Oh, and Greer? She shouldn't know about Steven. She NEVER met Steven in WCA, nor later)
Things I LOVED.
Taskmaster (And every merc villian in NY) being AFRAID of Moon Knight, as they should be. Like, really, FORGET his mental health issues, the man beat ALL THE AVENGERS on his own. Moon Knight is DANGEROUS, and it's good that the evil guys remember it. And he is not dangerous because of his DiD, or his crippling inexistent self-esteem (hi Marc!), or his faith to a god who... has issues himself (And I am writing a Meta on why amoral Khonshu doesn't work, wait for it), but because he IS a frigging Ex-soldier, EX-CIA, EX-Shield, EX-Merc.
The man KNOWS how to fight, and will NOT stop if he has you in his viewfinder. So yeah, good that someone remembers that.
And good that is Taskmaster, who tends to hold a grudge (hey, he HAS make a career of taking shots at Captain America)
The last page. OMG, the last page.
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Fandom: Castlevania
Pairings: Trevor/Sypha/Alucard, Hector/Lenore
Summary:
After Trevor gets grievously injured by a night creature, he and Sypha return to Dracula's castle to seek Alucard's help. The man they find there, however, is but a shadow of the friend they left behind.
Meanwhile, in far Styria, Hector does his best to survive in the vampires' court, a lamb amidst wolves. Little do the wolves know, the lamb has fangs of its own.
Chapter 14: In Darkness, Hope is up! Where Hector starts to see his relationship with Lenore under a different light.
Read on AO3 | Read from the beginning
The library of the castle of Styria is among the largest Hector has ever seen.
Well, if he’s being perfectly honest with himself, he hasn’t really seen that many. Dracula’s was large and largely up-to-date, despite the multitudes of dusty volumes that were probably many centuries old. Even though Dracula himself had never really barred him or Isaac from any part of the castle, Hector always felt uneasy walking about too freely. How does one feel at ease, at the home of one of the oldest, most legendary vampires in existence?
Frolicking through its labyrinthine corridors had been out of the question, at least for him. One never knew what they might encounter once they took the wrong turn, and at the time there were many dangerous beasts roaming the dark halls. Carmilla and Godbrand, to name two of them, and the way Cho’s eyes glazed over when she saw him, as if she couldn’t wait to sink her fangs in his neck, didn’t help matters much.
Before that, it was the library in the castle of Rhodes, the island where he grew up. He’d visited the castle briefly, once or twice, on the rare occasions his services had been needed, but he never lingered for too long. The miasma of his magic and his own presence had made sure he was never welcome anywhere for long.
So, the library here is the best thing he’s ever seen, really. The ring on his fingers is a curse, and one he begrudges daily, but he has to admit to himself that without it, he’d never have been allowed free access to its thousands of books and manuscripts, even if he begged, kneeling in the snow for days.
It was a strange thing, his occupation. Hector hadn’t chosen it, not exactly. It was more like his magic chose him: not all people were gifted in the necromantic arts, and even those who were, couldn’t wield it with the ease Hector has been able to ever since he can remember himself. His magic, the ability to create life from death, has been a blessing and a curse for him. It has opened some doors, and closed many others, has brought him close to ruin several times. But even so, deep down, he doesn’t know if he would give it up, if given the choice.
Hector is among the best at what he does, and he isn’t being conceited about it. Sometimes, it felt as if it was the only thing he really could do. The only thing he wanted to do. But now… now, after everything he’s gone through, he knows there is more to life than this. There must be.
He gazes out of the large window, the rolling hills covered in snow beyond the castle walls. The horizon seems endless, even with the forested mountain peaks that loom in the distance.
Yes. He’d like to see more of the world. Maybe, one day.
Hope. Such a frail thing, but so resilient. Even in the darkest of times, no matter how hard he’s tried to smother it, it always rears its head once more, like a sapling pushing its way through layers of winter frost.
You’re interesting, Lenore told him once. Beaten down a dozen different ways, and you don’t give up on yourself. It’s… nice.
Odd, that she noticed that about him, before she even knew him. Before he even knew it himself.
His mind drifts to their kiss before he can stop it. It's been days since then, but it's as if he can see it all, feel it on his skin. The stars reflecting in her blood-red eyes as she leans closer, her lips soft against his own. Her words, embedded in his heart like a fiery brand.
I still care about you, Hector. I never stopped.
His pulse skips at the memory, but he brushes it aside. Lies. Pretty words to draw him back to her again, to lull him into a false sense of safety. She doesn’t care about him, she never did. All she ever wanted was to trick him, to use him, to enslave him, and she has, she has, she has.
In truth, he doesn’t know what to make of her advances now. She knows he’s under her thumb— under all of their thumbs. There’s nothing else to prove now; she’s won, and Hector has lost. His independence, his freedom, his life. She doesn’t really have much to gain from him anymore, so why come back to him? Why be nice to him? Why… why say that she cares about him?
He settles back against the velvet armchair by the window, the sunlight warming the side of his face. Even if he tried, he doubts he’d be able to figure her out. Perhaps she’s only back to finish the job, or to remind him who he owes his life to. Vampires like to play with their food. Perhaps that’s all it is.
The thought sends a ripple of unease through him, like a pebble along the surface of a lake. He can feel its reverberations even as his attention returns to the book in his lap, as his gaze gets lost in the diagrams and the equations and the illustrations of severed limbs and other appendages on the page before him. He tries his best to ignore it.
It is hours later —or minutes, he’s never been good at keeping time when a book consumes his attention— that he hears the characteristic click of dainty heels on the smooth marble floor.
“Morning.”
Hector glances up. Night has fallen beyond the window, gentle and sweet and indigo-coloured, and Lenore looks part of it. Her gloved hands are clasped demurely before her, and the light of the moon falls upon her porcelain skin.
“Evening,” Hector replies. He stretches his arms high above him, tilts his head this way and that until the joints crack. “Didn’t realise it was time already.”
“Oh, yes. Carmilla is expecting us, and you know how patient she is.” She takes a step closer, emboldened by his relaxed mood. “I think the servants are starting to get scared of her.”
“You don’t say.” Hector lets the book he was reading fall closed. It is old and dusty, the leather scuffed at the corners. It must have travelled a long way, from the far reaches of the world, to make it here, in his hands. He takes a deep breath of the yellowed pages, of its worn cover. It smells of spices, of grain, of the sun beating down upon vast expanses of sand. It reminds him of Isaac, a little.
He often wonders how his fellow Forgemaster is doing, if he’s still alive. If he was in the castle during the battle at Braila, then he has probably perished. The thought isn’t a pleasant one. Hector never had anything against Isaac; he’d even started to like him, right before the end, despite his cool and detached demeanour, the distance he kept, his odd way of talking down to him occasionally, as if he were a little boy. He brings his face to mind for a moment: the high forehead, the full lips, the ink dots above his eyes that rained down upon his cheekbone. Hector wonders how Isaac is doing, if he’s alright.
If he is, then he surely holds no love for Hector.
If Isaac’s still alive, then he’ll surely come for all of them one day, for betraying his beloved Dracula. It’s a grim thought, but even the darkest of outcomes have a bright side. If Isaac raises an army of night creatures and comes for them, all hellfire and vengeance, Carmilla will be the first to fall.
A bitter smile comes unbidden to his lips. Oh, Hector wouldn’t survive such an attack, of that he is certain. But if the fire comes for him, he would only ask it to burn Carmilla first.
“She’s been shut up in her study for most of this week, poring over her maps,” Lenore says as he stands up and picks up the armful of books he amassed beside him. “Maps that she bullied the map maker into making for her in one third of the time that’s usually required. I believe the ink is still drying on some of them.”
“What does she want with the maps?”
Lenore sighs and follows him past the neat rows of tables, where apprentices are already starting to gather. “It helps her come up with ideas, she says. Plans of attack.”
“That sounds ominous,” Hector murmurs.
“Yes, well, that’s what Carmilla does. Leave her alone for five minutes, and she’ll start coming up with strategies to take over the world. And with Morana and Striga away from the castle for weeks to survey the territories to be annexed…” She shakes her head. “I have too much work to do right now to indulge her. I’ve taken on a big part of Morana’s workload alongside mine. But even if I did have time, talking with her is… intense. At times.”
Hector glances at her from the corner of his eye. She seems tired and a bit drained, even though it’s only the start of the day for her. There is a worried frown creasing her brow, and her peach-coloured lips are pursed in thought.
“Morana and Striga have been much better at dealing with her lately,” she says quietly. “Better than me.”
“Why is that?”
The light of the lamps flickers over her face as they walk underneath them. Her eyes are hidden in shadow momentarily, but it isn’t hard for Hector to detect the sharpness there. “You know how Carmilla is,” she says. “She just can’t take no for an answer. And with her temper being what it is, she doesn’t always want to listen to me. I think the battle at Braila, and the march here, have left her a little… jumpy. She keeps seeing threats everywhere.”
“Right.” Hector tries hard not to roll his eyes as he turns a corner, stepping into the shadows between the bookcases. He can’t think of many things that could get under Carmilla’s skin. The idea of her having such sensibilities is ridiculous to him. Do monsters have feelings? He could laugh.
“Anyway,” Lenore sighs, “what matters right now is that you think of something to tell her, some sort of excuse for yourself.” At Hector’s confused stare, she huffs. “About your hammer. She’s getting very cross, you know.”
“Oh, dear,” Hector says flatly, walking to the far end of the corridor. “How sad. Never mind.”
“I mean it, Hector,” Lenore presses. “You’ve been working on it for weeks, and still nothing. Carmilla is getting impatient. You’re not taking this very seriously.”
“I’ve told you before, Lenore. The hammer takes time. I can’t just snap my fingers and 'magic' one into existence. It has to be perfect.”
She glances up at him with a little moue and a quirk of her brow, unimpressed. “Your perfect hammer.”
“Exactly.” He reaches up to the highest shelf to slide the book he’d borrowed into place. “Carmilla will just have to wait for a little while longer while I work on it. I think she’ll live.”
“Well, make it work faster. I don’t know how much longer I’ll be able to stand in front of you.”
Hector pauses in the act of placing another book on the shelf, the tome hovering in the air. “You’d… stand in front of me?”
Lenore’s gaze softens. The amber light of a distant lamp glitters in her eyes, warms up her complexion. “You silly boy,” she says, reaching up to caress his chin with a gloved finger. “I’ve been doing it for weeks.”
Read the rest on Ao3!
#castlevania#netflix castlevania#trephacard#trevor belmont#sypha belnades#alucard#trevor/sypha/alucard#lenector#hector#lenore#where blood roses bloom#johaerys writes
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Ughh.. Hello! This is my first post on Tumblr. Unfortunately, It's not exactly a good post.
I'm watching the Castlevania series for about 3 years, I have watched it many times, so many times that i can figure some things out, about Hector, Lenore, and Carmilla. It's just my opinion, don't judge me badly. I'm not saying my opinion is entirely correct, but it's my point of view and I feel the need to talk about it.
Before all, if you're a Lenore/Carmilla fan, you'd better stop reading, because you may not like what you read, and I don't want you throwing insults at me. Everyone has the right to their own opinion.
Firstly, I know it sounds silly, but Hector is my favorite character from Castlevania. I'm in love with him for almost two years, from the Christmas period of 2019, after a whole story from which I realized that I really love him. Though, I am aware that he doesn't really exist.
I think that Hector didn't deserved what happened to him because he assumed all he did and all of his decisions. He thought that Carmilla's plan was better than Dracula's and that's why he trusted her. He was a bit naive, that's true, especially when he trusted Lenore, but somehow he knew that Dracula lied to him. The series let us interpretate what happened. Honestly, to me it looked like he was more naive when he followed Lenore than he followed Carmilla because he made the same mistake before and because of that, he could be more cautious. But he fell in love with Lenore just because he was never loved by someone, even by his parents and he needed someone to be by his side. He was confused, scared, he didn't know what was going to happen around him, but Lenore was the only one who speaked better to him, and Hector trusted her, because he thought it will be better for him and that he will be loved. I wasn't expected Lenore to be such a b***h to Hector, and this is why I hate her so much. I hate both, her and Carmilla. But we need to know that Hector assumed all of this, as I said earlier and it's not his fault for the way Carmilla and Lenore treated him. The most disgusting thing was at the end, when Lenore told Hector that she didn't want to stay with him, in a cage. As if she didn't keep Hector in a cage in this whole time. And she is the one who choosed her end, just because she was a weak person. Absolutely awful.
I don't understand why some fans like Carmilla and Lenore and say that they didn't deserved to die in this way. In my opinion, Lenore was a r*pist, a traitor and she never loved Hector, but she was using him for her pleasures and to do Carmilla's needs. Yes, it's okay to like Carmilla and Lenore, but it's not okay to be unfair with Hector just because they like those characters. I'm not on Hector's side just because I like him, I just say and believe what I see and what I understand. And yes, many fans are unfair with Hector just because they like Carmilla/Lenore. Ughh.. there are some fans that say Hector and Lenore look good together. Well, no. They're both are beautiful, but the relationship was a toxic one from the beginning and to me looks an awful one. Why they need to be together? Just for Lenore to treat Hector as her pet? Really????? Hector is a human. And if you believe that he is an animal, believe what you want. It's just your problem, not mine.
I think that it was horrific what they have done to him: beat the sh*t out of him, they treated him like a dog, and made him their slave. Hector is a strong man, who managed to pass through a lot of phisical and mental pain, from when he was little, but he had control over the situations and after all, he realized all of his mistakes, this is why he cut off his finger, just to get rid of the ring. He wanted to repair the mistake, he wanted to repair all of his mistakes. And after that, it went all good for him. Now, he is free to have a calm and beautiful life alone, maybe with Isaac around him sometimes.
In conclusion, Hector is human, and I repeat, HUMAN, NOT A DOG, he is a good, mighty and a brave man, and I love him sooooo muchhhh and I consider that he deserves only good things in his life.🥺😭
#hector castlevania#castlevania#lenore#hector#castlevania netflix#lenore castlevania#forgemaster#HECTOR IS SO SWEET AND I WANT TO PROTECT HIM WITH MY OWN LIFE
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If These Walls Could Talk (Ch7)
(^^ Art commissioned from Junki Sakuraba on instagram and deviantart!!)
Fandom: Castlevania Netflix
Summary: Vampires do not have reflections, and castles do not have hearts. But Dracula is no ordinary vampire, and Castlevania is no ordinary castle. If castles can fight, maybe they can think too.
The series, and Adrian’s childhood, told from the perspective of the castle.
Notes: Hey all! I am SO sorry this chapter took so long to come out. My perfectionism really got the best of me with this chapter.
But I saw that S4 was on its way and that really lit a fire under my butt because I really do want to post my season 3 chapter before s4 comes out. I’m highly doubt I’ll accomplish it as it almost always takes me longer than I have to get a chapter out, let alone two, but I'll try, at least.
I really really hope you enjoy it!! If you enjoy this chapter, please please consider commenting. I assure you it’ll be more likely I’ll post the next chapter faster the more people comment on this showing you still enjoy this fic. Each comment is a little shot of energy and motivation for me.
Important! This chapter is meant to have aesthetic indentation in some places. So if you want to read it as-intended, please look it at on Archiveofourown at I_prefer_the_term_antihero on your computer or tablet!!
If you get here and are thinking “Wait, what was this fic about? What were the main themes?” then this would be a good time to reread/skim back through the earlier chapters. This is the climax of the fic and will (hopefully) be more impactful the more you remember about the rest of the fic and its many themes.
Chapter Summary:
"Go back whence you came! Trouble the soul of my Mother no more!" "How? How—How is it that I've been so defeated?" "You have been doomed ever since you lost the ability to love." "Ha—Ah... Sarcasm. 'For what profit is it to a man if he gains the world, and loses his own soul?' Matthew 16:26, I believe. "Tell me. What—What were Lisa's last words?" "She said 'Do not hate humans. If you cannot live with them, then at least do them no harm. For theirs is already a hard lot'. She also said to tell you that she would love you for all of eternity." "Lisa, forgive me. Farewell my son."
Chapter 7: “Heart”
Hey there, Sunshine, the Room adds with a smile.
The Room forgot the sweet tang of breath. How gentle, how vicious. Like honey, like relief, like a cozy blanket and a fireplace. It came in great, gulping gasps, and living was painful after such long breathlessness, but hurt far less than being half dead.
The Room rushes to Castlevania, shaking it, saying, Open your eyes! Open your eyes! It’s Adrian. It’s our boy. My master. My sunlight.
And Castlevania limply flickers open its eyes, for it cannot help but obey.
Obey to see the golden man standing in its doorway.
And it feels a jolt of warmth in its broken chest.
Alucard has returned home. He arrives at the doorstep with resolve in his closed fists and a sword on his tongue. The threat to the war they all knew he would be, and the Room promised it would rear him to be.
But he isn’t alone this time.
There are two humans by his side. One with fire in her fists—quite literally—the other with a barbed tongue at his hip.
Castlevania recognizes a crest on the clothing of one of them, gold and proud: The Belmonts. The ones who came with whips and scourges to defeat its master long ago. The ones whom Dracula and his Castle were bound together against in their undead war. The ones whom Dracula trusted his Castle to protect him from. The owner of the hold now beneath Castlevania. He has come to defeat its master like the rest…but this time the boy is by his side, and for that reason, the Castlevania is unsure how this will end.
“I terrify them,” the Belmont explains the plan, “Sypha disorients them, Alucard goes over the top and we support him.”
“Yes.” The Speaker confirms.
Alucard holds his sword out horizontally in front of him, unsheathes it, and speaks:
“Begin.”
Alucard is with the Belmont.
And Castlevania knows when it sees them, the fire in their eyes, that they are the intent that brought it here. That they have indeed come to kill its master once and for all. It had wished when the boy returned, it would be with the promise of hope. But there is no promise of life and the sparing of it this time.
They bring death inside with them; the war room is filled with war, blood and burns on its floors, but it is different this time, because this is not an ambiance, a continuation, a fact of life, it is a swift and fatal kiss—the end they said he would bring, once. The blood is rotten on the floors, but it doesn’t itch or burn. And the boy uses those techniques his father taught him on brighter nights about turning into things with teeth, and the ones his mother once taught him on sunnier days about how to make metal listen.
They did not bring life inside this time, not life of the same kind at least. The war, the death, has followed and swallowed them too, but not in the same way it has its master. They are not bloodthirsty. The cold the dark and the death are merely clothes they wear, they have not reached the deepest parts of them; there are still light-starved Rooms in their hearts waiting to breathe.
There is a song at their heels as they dance in rings of fire, with the wind and the moon, upon the blood and water Castlevania isn’t sure will come out of the carpet. It is a song that is all too familiar. It has been played here before, when other, more, less, holy Belmonts barged in long ago. A song of blood and tears.
Bloody tears its master cried once, for his wife when he realized they had taken something that could not be borrowed, bartered, or souled.
They’re bringing an end to the strife, and all the undead lives that facilitated it, and vice versa. They are cutting the puppet strings, and not all puppets can live without them.
Isaac fights the nameless soldiers on the staircase for its master…until he sees someone who is far from nameless.
Isaac’s reddened eyes meet Alucard’s golden ones. Alucard’s sword aims at him, but it hits the deadened flesh of the nameless instead.
Isaac runs to tell its master—Dracula, busy ripping out the heart of a nameless—who’s here; that his sun has returned, and at his side is magic and might.
Dracula knows the prophecy.
He’s willing to die—Issac. He stands before Dracula, his form barely able to shield three-quarters of Dracula’s, willing to give his feeble human life for Dracula’s indefinite undead one. He believes knowledge and will are more important than the blood of a good man. He believes in love, and loyalty is love of a sort. And it is Castlevania’s understanding that when someone is willing to live for something, they are also willing to die for it. This is the noblest of causes.
“You are the greatest of your people, Isaac. You have a soul, I think.” As Dracula says the words, he raises his hand, and the mirror shards behind them begin to rise. “Perhaps that is more valuable to the world to come than a dusty collection of books and apparatus.”
Lisa looks on from the portrait, and Castlevania thinks it is a look of pride. She always did stand for saving human lives rather than destroying them. Isn’t it funny that in what will perhaps be the deciding battle of this war, the one where his goals should possess him stronger than ever, it is the human who he values more than himself?
“Or perhaps you simply deserve a better fate than to die instead of me.”
“I choose my death, as I chose my life.” The words are stronger than iron.
“Then I regret only that I have taken a choice for you.” A hand at his shoulder.
Dracula throws him halfway across the world, to the kind of place Isaac was born in, and the kind of place Isaac least wants to die in.
Isaac believes in love. And it is for this reason, this belief, that Vlad saves his life, Castlevania knows. Saves his life, by denying the choice he so desperately wanted to make—perhaps his whole life—and had no regrets or apprehensions about making, rather a lot more in being kept alive.
And when the mirror shatters and falls, his son is standing there, like he did a year ago, though this time he is not backed by sunlight. The only light in the room is the fire glinting in his eyes.
A pause. To remember the dead.
“Father.”
A word. To remember the living.
“Son.”
This should be a reunion, perhaps. Better people would think they should happily hug each other, and say they missed each other, and that they love each other all the same. Better people would say that the sunlight should plead with the dark to come back into its embrace. All the sinners know there was no chance of that the moment Dracula scrawled fate on his son’s skin with his own claws.
Instead, there is nothing but bitter, fighting words:
“Your war is over.”
Dracula tilts his head to the side. “Because you say so?”
“It ends.” Alucard looks at his sword, the one she taught him how to use. “In the name of my mother.”
Dracula looks at his son, the one she gave him. “It endures in the name of your mother.”
“I told you before I won’t let you do it.” Alucard’s voice is so soft, yet solid and unwavering. There is no anger, but he will not step aside. Not this time. Even when the claws come. “I grieve with you…but I won’t let you commit genocide.”
“You couldn’t stop me before.” Dark assurance in soft words.
Footsteps. A cue to the magic and the hunt behind the curtain, who step out on either side of him.
“I was alone before.”
And Castlevania understands. Understands that they are not here to talk things out. Understands that they are not here to save Dracula, to appeal to the good in him, as Lisa once had, and the Room once thought. Castlevania itself even hoped, when the boy returned, the song would be a bit more inspirational. But, beaten and broken and bloody, Castlevania understands now, if Alucard stands with the intent, if Alucard brought a Belmont—
Then they do not believe there is a chance. They are not here then, to talk him out of it. They are here to halt this war in its tracks, make it rear up, lose its balance, and fall.
—(And Castlevania knows, deep down, that to do this… they must end something else)—
Alucard is bringing back the sunlight. But there is only one way he can do that, and goodnight is not quiet.
And make no mistake he does intend to bring the full, the warm, the life, and the light back, just like Castlevania and the Room wanted. But there is too much cold, dark, death, and emptiness here to do this quietly. They are here to kill Dracula—the master now puppeteered by Death’s strings rather than his own soul.
The Speaker raises her fingers to her lips as if to say a prayer, or perhaps take a heavenly name in vain for the sake of a little silence. The Belmont��s whip clinks in his hand. Alucard’s sword sings as he raises it.
Alucard drives it towards his father: a bolt of golden lightning through the room, pinning him against the fireplace as books fall to the floor. Castlevania, wincing at the pain, knows that will bruise in the morning.
The picture of his mother cracks and falls, as if she has to close her eyes for this.
Alucard, growling with fierce resolve, pushing the sword into him with all his might. But Dracula has the sword in his hand, rather than his heart. He steps calmly forward, barely having to use any of his strength to combat so much of his son’s, as if he’s about to tell him to put the toy away.
A glint of golden eyes. Alucard pulls back the sword. A slash. Two. Three.
Dracula raises his arm as if to knock the sword from his shoulder.
Instead he bashes his son’s head into the fireplace—and Castlevania cries out at the feeling, feeling its stomach burn.
The Speaker and the Belmont ready for a fight. The floor splinters—(Castlevania grimaces, tasting blood)—as Dracula flashes through the room, and pins the Belmont into the hall, against the wall, sending his sword out of his hand. He keels over onto his hands to cough up blood, the puddle crawling on Castlevania’s skin.
Castlevania never had any qualms with the blood of Belmonts on its floors before, so this hurts less, but this is different, and Castlevania still wonders if Dracula could be a little gentler with his Castle.
A flash of light at his side. He raises his cloak as the Speaker sends tongues and teeth of fire at him.
“Speaker magician!” Its master realizes.
He rushes at her, knocking her hand out of position. She creates an ice shard before her with the other.
He scratches up with a claw, sending her flying with the broken pieces towards the ceiling, and angry gashes appear on her arm as she rolls along the floor.
“Sypha!” The Belmont calls.
He must love her in some way, because in a fit of some sort of emotion—instead of picking up his sword—the Belmont uses his fists. They probably haven’t failed him before. But this is Dracula, and his punches don’t cause the king to so much as flinch.
“You must be the Belmont.”
Castlevania laughs a little at the words; it too thought the method was rather common of his line.
It’s Dracula’s turn, and his punch doesn’t just cause the Belmont to flinch, the sound is as if he hit rock, sending him into the air with the force. He doesn’t give him a second to breathe, rather reaches his claw is around the human’s neck, holding him there.
He raises his other claw level—a blade, more trustworthy than any.
“The end of your line.”
Before he can make these words true, another blade stops him: his son’s, driving itself through both his arms.
While he is pinned the Speaker, knowing this is an opportunity she will not get again, rushes forward—still bleeding, mind—a bead of fire between her fingers. Dracula cannot move to protect himself, and the magician, knowing this, lets the fire loose to lick his face raw.
Dracula drops the Belmont, attempting to get away, deciding his own life takes precedence, but it is hard to get away when your hands are tied together with metal.
The Speaker, seeing that her fire is about to hit Alucard, falters. And in that moment Dracula wrenches his arm off of the blade and uses it to knock her down, before sending his other fist into his son, who goes flying along with his sword hitting the wall. This one may not be so hard as to bruise, but, with everything aching and breaking, the smallest tap hurts Castlevania.
The Belmont pulls a blade of bone from his back-belt, and as Dracula turns he drives it into his chest.
It’s not close enough to his heart, but red distaste fills Dracula’s eyes. He thought this was a game, but they have some amount of ability, and he may have underestimated them. As Alucard and the magician get up he attempts to grab at the Belmont in quick motions, but he has some skill in dodging.
The Speaker rips off her shirt and cauterizes her wound as the Belmont and Dracula dance in the hallway, neither weapon hitting flesh.
Dracula sees the Speaker’s intent over his shoulder, and as the Belmont lunges at him grabs his arm and throws him into her, stopping both their attacks. An effective move, if Castlevania does say so itself.
Alucard sees his opening and rushes forward, pinning his father to the wall, which shatters behind them with a painful lurch.
Dracula puts his hands together and brings them down over his son’s head with such force the floor cracks.
And Castlevania coughs blood.
Alucard pushes his arms away and slaps both sides of his face, getting a grunt this time. Dracula sends him back with such force it almost seems like a shockwave, creating wind and smoke curling around them all.
The Speaker roots him in place by sending ice spears into his leg. The Belmont clears the smoke by spinning his whip, before creating more by sending that whip—the one he fed the vampires that didn’t agree with their compositions—sizzling into Dracula’s chest. There’s an explosion to be sure—a rather big one—but after the smoke dissipates, and a wait with bated breath, Dracula is still standing just as he was before—as Castlevania knew he would—like all he threw at him were words.
…At least at first, to show he isn’t taken down so easily. He does fall to his hands thereafter.
“The Morningstar whip.” The words are scratches in the carpet. “Well played, Belmont. But I am no ordinary vampire to be killed by your human magics.” The words sizzle on his tongue. “I am Vlad Dracula Tepes,” he crosses his arms with purpose. “and I have had ENOUGH!”
His voice is a shockwave of its own across the sea of stone and bone. He sweeps his hands to the sides, his cloak rising like wings as he floats into the air, and creates a ball of magma: the cheat that will end the game. He was going easy on them until now.
It rumbles towards them, eating the carpet as it goes—and Castlevania can feel the burning in its chest. The Belmont’s eyes widen with fear at last. The Speaker rises to the occasion without hesitation, and holds out her hands to stop it with the force of her magic. It’s a force to be reckoned with, for sure: at first she succeeds, but, though it may be slowing, it isn’t stopping, and her feet are slipping. The Belmont puts his back to hers, as any good friend and comrade would. Alucard phases in front of them, the burning wind rushing against his face. He calls his sword, which sings as it reaches his hand, poises it, and drives the point into the magma ball.
They each fight with all their might, the Belmont and the speaker begins to grunt with the weight of it. The ball gives a falter their way, and Castlevania is sure even three cannot match Dracula’s strength, but the Speaker gives a final push, which gives Alucard just the right amount of momentum to drive it back toward his father, who is as caught off guard by the display as Castlevania is. He needs no sword or magic to stop it, however, and puts his hands out to hold it. Gold and red push against each other, until Alucard gives a deciding motion, then another, another, each chipping away at the ball until the sword goes flying and it’s just Alucard’s arm against Dracula’s throat, and their momentum creates a sizzling tunnel in the wall.
Castlevania may not know what guns are, but it knows what it feels like to be shot.
The two burst into the library, shattering the already shattered mirror.
It was so quiet in here. Must they sully the silence with the sound of strife? They read here, once. Sometimes alone, sometimes to each other. Whispered to each other of history and mystery.
Dracula lands on the floor and Alucard floats above him in the room in which he once stood on his level and told his father calmly he wouldn’t stand for genocide.
There’s anger in his eyes now.
Dracula hisses, then gives a war cry, and the two allow their hungry fists to attempt to devour each other as best they can in the air, red and gold flashing.
The Belmont picks up a sword in the other room and, deciding it’d be best not to follow them through the tunnel—(Castlevania is glad for that decision. The wound is still raw and would more than likely sting tremendously if they walked on it)—he and the Speaker run up the stairs to follow them.
They’re on the floor now and their punches fly like starlings—their duel reflected in the shards of mirror fluttering, jittering about, ever awaiting their command, as if attempting to tap their shoulders and ask what they should do, and why they are hurting each other—until they are hitting the bookshelves they once were gentle with—lest the pages rip and the silence tear—the ones they once smiled and discussed philosophy beside.
Castlevania’s head aches, nausea in the back of its throat.
A smiling boy and his father handing him another book, saying if he liked the first he’d like the second too, are all but gone now.
Dracula throws Alucard into the ceiling, and enters the room above with an unearthly sound, in an unearthly way: only his cloak is visible, moving like slime. As his hungry footsteps lick the floor behind him, Alucard is heaving on his side that same floor, his hair falling across his face. He turns around, fear coating the sound he makes as he, without his sword, grabs the nearest block of wood that happens to have a point on the end.
Dracula laughs, like they’re playing a game—(they did once, do they remember? Humans and monsters. Sometimes there were princes, and knights, or pirates. Even a princess or two. And the wolves and the bats were free in the night wind)—and stops.
“You mean to stake me?”
“You want me to.” Alucard murmurs, turning around with some difficulty.
“What?” Dracula chuckles, still with that put-the-toys-away intonation.
“You didn’t kill me before.” Alucard breathes. “You’re not going to kill me now. You want this to end as much as I do.” The look in his eyes is almost crazed.
“DO I?!” The tone is almost crazed in response, the nonchalant edge gone, the words resounding with power and grief.
Alucard scrambles away like an animal, causing Dracula to punch the floor instead of his head—Castlevania’s body lurches. It feels a gentle touch at its chin, someone trying to wipe the blood off perhaps.
“You died when my mother died. You know you did.” He reasons as Dracula’s breathing gains weight. “This entire catastrophe has been nothing but history’s longest suicide note.”
Castlevania jerks its head up, eyes wide at these words.
And Castlevania understands.
The cold, the dark, the empty, the death. They all make sense now.
Alucard rushes at him, Dracula knocks the stake out of Alucard’s hand with ease, but, in a moment of extreme dexterity, Alucard manages to grab it from the air and drive it into his chest still. The look in his eyes is almost pleading, like he’s going to ask “Daddy did I do a good job? Did I do it right? I’ve gotten better at fighting haven’t I?”
“Not quite close enough.” There is a gurgling quality to Dracula’s enunciation.
No more playing.
He shoves Alucard so hard its into the next room.
Castlevania keels over onto the floor, it’s stomach aching and prickling.
Dracula pulls the stake out and heaves before rushing after.
Floors below the magician and the Belmont can hear them, and are trying their best to catch up, to have a say in this fight.
But Castlevania isn’t sure they have much chance of that, as they are flashing through the halls now, Alucard, a foot off the ground, zig-zagging between the walls in the narrow hall as Dracula keeps punching bloodless stone—
—(The stone may be bloodless, but god this hurts)—
Until Alucard punches him back, sending them into a room, a bedroom—(but not that one)—and the room is a pile of rubble with just that. And Castlevania can feel the splinters. That furniture was nice.
Dracula grabs Alucard’s face and shoves him into the dining room, pinning him to the table like he’ll eat him too if they’re not careful, and those chairs were perfectly nice too—
And Castlevania sees a little boy waiting at the table for his birthday surprise, and his father pulling out a burned cake, and his mother laughing. There was no fear then. Though its master was a creature of blood it never thirsted for theirs, and they knew this full well. Can they see it too? Why would they destroy this room if they did? Why would they destroy each other if they did? Are they even the same creatures as those in the memory?
At this point Castlevania is pretty sure they broke a few of its ribs.
Alucard kicks his face and gets on the table on all fours, rushing him into the next room still.
Castlevania’s bleeding, broken heart skips a beat. Surely they must have broken a few ribs, for how else could they get into Castlevania’s heart? The control room, where its gears still lie dripping, glowing as orange as a brand, once beating organs now blazing stalactites.
They punch each other along the platform, Dracula’s cloak whipping about, like a cat’s fur trying to make him look bigger and scarier.
They are framed in the paneless window—those bones have been all but broken too now. The frame where the picture—that is to say, the die—no longer sits. For Castlevania’s heart didn’t just break, it was destroyed when they brought it to this place, the place where its enemies once lived, and still stand today.
—(So why can Castlevania still feel it beat?)—
In the frame now is moon drunk on blood, a night soaked in tears—and the wind whispers to their cloaks, bidding them to whip around them.
Dracula draws in a hissing breath.
Alucard stands tall, his eyes aglow, gold melting into something new in this forge, his hair whipping about him as he raises his fist yet again.
They are getting tired. Their snarls have a weakened quality to them now.
—Can they see the father and son in this room, the father teaching his son that his Castle is special?—
But instead of just punching him, Alucard teleports beside his father, hitting his shoulder, sending a gust of wind to his face, then teleports around the room to send his fist into him over and over, from every possible angle, and some of his kick-offs create cracks in the already breaking bindings of the room.
It feels like pins and needles, but it’s okay. It’s okay.
Why?
Dracula’s grits his teeth, sharp as ever, his eyes alight with bloody determination, his hair playing about this gaze. To end it, on the next hit he grabs his face, shoving him by it onto the stone platform. He shoves him once, twice, a third, the metal cracking, the metal creaking—
Castlevania’s gut lurches, and it can taste bile and iron at the back of its throat, and it’s hard to breathe.
Then its master raises Alucard back up, holds him by the face in the air a moment, and punches him with such force he is blown across the length of the platform and through the thick stone wall into the next room—
And Castlevania vomits blood.
Dracula bolts after him, the dust creating patterns in his wake—and Castlevania could gaze in the clouds if it weren’t for whoever’s trying to slap it awake.
Alucard coughs, and it sounded deep.
Its master is nothing human now. There’s a growl in his throat as he marches towards him, and another cough in Alucard’s as he struggles to stand.
Another punch, but this one is not fast like the rest, nor is it blocked. Alucard tries to stand up, to rush towards him, but he is getting tired, and Dracula hits him again. Another growl. Alucard takes a single step back, soft against the floors. An exhale. Another of both, and as Dracula raises his fist the murmur—plea?—on his son’s lips sounds a lot like “Father,” as if he’s reached his limit, and has to stop the game.
It’s too late to hit quit now.
The vampire king doesn’t grant the plea—or perhaps even hear it; with a belabored punch he sends him into the next Room, rolling this time, instead of flying, the contents of the Room staying in tact…all except the bed, which catches the boy.
The next Room. But this one is not like the rest. It is not just a room.
This one breathes.
A gasp, another growl, a scratch against the wall, and—
Castlevania burned today in this bloody fight, on this bloody night. Its skin, its legs. Even its heart broke.
Castlevania. The thing that Vlad Tepes brought to life with a little bit of lightning, several gears, and a few words. No magic words, just words: the ones he spoke on lonely nights to the walls about how he’d like to be something more than ruthless.
Castlevania did everything it could. It lies burned and broken and unable to fight now because of it.
But none of that burned half as much as those scratches on its walls.
There have been many stories told about Dracula, and there will one day be more stories told about Dracula, books written, enough that one could fill libraries with just the retellings of his story. And Castlevania has no doubt that one day these scratches will be on their covers. This growl, these scratches are the signet of a vampire, of a monster: the disfigurement of his Castle, bloody intent directed at his son. The dark, the death, and the emptiness have overtaken completely. That is all a monster is, really. That is all he is now.
He marches into the Room, his cloak flowing, dipping and twirling in the broken wind. The sound of Alucard’s breathing fills the Room as he heaves against the bed.
Or maybe the breath is the Room’s own.
The Room has seen all that happened, it has been watching Castlevania beaten bloody till it could barely breathe, or see through the blood dripping down its face, let alone move. Castlevania could barely feel the comforting hands on it, the attempts to bandage the wounds, or at least stop the bleeding that it knew could only belong to the Room. Castlevania could barely hear the Room’s frantic, desperate calls to action, to get up, or just ask if it was okay. And now the Room stands, fists clenched at its sides. The Room wants to fight back. It will fight back.
The Room is not violent. From the very beginning it stood against all the violence, the dark, the empty, and the death. That was what it was made for, after all. As much as it would like to, it does not wrap its hand around Dracula’s throat, claws digging until it draws blood, and demand “How does it feel?! How does it feel to be on the receiving end?!”
The Room’s footsteps are soft as it comes up beside Dracula. It puts its hands over the king’s eyes and whispers in his ear, gently as it can:
“Remember me?”
Then, quietly as it came, it removes them, as if playing peekaboo, revealing that it was there the whole time, his eyes were just covered for a while.
It may as well have been removing scales, because Dracula freezes, his eyes wide, as if he’s seeing, not just the Room, but the whole world for the first in a long time—And he is. The first time with living eyes. And one sees things very differently with living eyes. And Castlevania was his world and it hopes he sees the world differently, for Castlevania is not a thing for him to beat and break. Just when Castlevania thought there was nothing left…there is something more than anger in his eyes now.
Dracula’s angry cloak quiets, falling docile at his feet: a sign of reverence towards the Room, and all it stands for.
Alucard, after allowing his breath to regain itself, looks up, his eyes widening too at his father. His father. No anger, no fear, not even determination now. Not in this Room. This Room is different. He remembers now: in the hush that has fallen across the world like freshly fallen snow, this is his father.
The Room kneels at it’s boy’s side, putting a hand on his shoulder feeling nothing but life and love, so much so it extends to the creature that created the scars on its throat, and on its boy’s chest.
“It’s okay. You can go to him now.” The Room says.
And it knows what that means.
It knows that sometimes peace comes at the price of war.
Dracula curls his hand, the one with the claw that just made marks on the walls that are written in stone, and will never be undone. Within the glow of the window, his reddened eyes too are no longer angry. For so long those eyes sat dormant, empty, and glazed in his skull and at last they contain something. The Room’s words have gotten through the glaze, shattered the glass.
“It’s your Room.”
It’s more than just a statement. He made a promise when he made this Room. This Room was to be his son’s Room. There would be no violence, not in this Room. Not ever. Not today in as much as not ten years ago. He will not hurt this Room. He will not dare touch it, for fear those claws will mark more than just the walls; that all the memories will come crashing down.
The words are not angry. They are not dark. They are not empty. They are not dead. They may seem dry, and stated, but they are dripping with such longing and loss it might fill the whole Castle.
The desk where Vlad taught Adrian of letters, and of numbers, and of the borders of the world. The wardrobe where Lisa dressed him up in fine clothes, and casual ones depending on the occasion—Dracula had so few special occasions to celebrate alone, they were a lovely thing. The bookshelf full of all the knowledge of immortals, and the stories of mortals. The carpet where the boy sat and played with his toys. The nightstand, still with a potion bottle upon it, and the cards of a game they’ve no doubt forgotten how to play, right where they left it long ago. The shelf above it with another bottle, and a tiny satchel of even tinier precious things, and a little toy lamb. The bed upon which Vlad and Lisa once sat and told stories, and sang lullabies, or else lay curled up next to him when the nightmares got too vicious to bear alone.
—(How many did he have to face alone?)—
And Castlevania can see them all. The father teaching his son to count, and to write. The mother running after her naked toddler, trying to convince him clothes really aren’t so bad. The careful pouring of the potions so they change color, or explode just right, the father smiling proudly when he gets the questions correct. The pride of the mother when her son won the game, and the way her husband said “again” like if they just played another round he would win this time. The boy playing with the lamb and the wolf; they they got along in his stories.
The control room never was Castlevania’s heart…was it?
Alucard stands—the motion fluid now—blue light caressing his face as he raises his eyes. Vlad too looks up. But they’re not looking at each other, or the Room, rather into the stars. Not the ones outside, the ones they painted—brushing paint upon each other’s noses, so long ago, and Castlevania can see that too—as if those stars hold all the bottled wishes of childhood. It always was crowning jewel of this Room.
Adrian’s eyes oscillate like perturbed waters, because he knows, he knows he’s about to lose it all. And yes, there’s a sort of childlike yearning in Adrian’s eyes, as if he’s wishing upon those stars that he didn’t have to do this, because he’d really rather find another way to spend this night.
The stars wipe the bloodstains off of Dracula’s eyes. The blood drains off the moon too, as if he is so powerful he can bid the sky to bleed.
His lips shake with long-forgotten words—(or maybe they were just buried, and not everything buried in a grave stays there)—and he holds his hands to his chest, if nothing else to stop them from hurting innocent boys and castles, and shuts his eyes.
“My boy.” The words are said like everything in him is breaking
And it is.
—(The control room never was Castlevania’s heart. Does that mean it never broke?)—
“I’m—I…” The word falls to the floor, so soft, like it’s the only apology he has to shed. “I’m… I’m killing my boy.” And the truth is so gentle and broken its almost more painful than all those punches to the walls.
He steps across the Room, and this time his footsteps are not foreboding, not marching nor stalking. They are soft. He is only walking. This boy is not his prey. Not in this Room.
He walks to the picture on the wall, the one called “Happy.”
Castlevania remembers the day they took it home. The painter really did do a good job, Lisa had said, and Castlevania agreed. Castlevania soon learned that even when they were not here, even when the boy was not small, even when they were not happy, that moment would still be captured upon the wall to return to any time they missed it. Long ago Dracula had no need of pictures and paintings. But those pictures have been everything to him, and everything left him, now that Lisa is gone. They are all the traces left of what they once were in this Castle. That picture—the one Dracula buried and tried to forget existed—that picture bottled happiness, and it gives Vlad back his happiness now. And it makes him so very sad.
“Lisa. I’m killing our boy.” Vlad says to the memory. “We painted this Room. We…made these toys.”
His eyes as they dart around the Room—to the books, to the basket with the wolf and the blocks—are glazed, but not in the same way as before, this time it is with memory, and that makes them more alive than ever, as are his words. And in that moment she is alive too, and he is Vlad, Lisa’s husband, and Adrian’s father.
“It’s our boy, Lisa.”
And then as he looks down his eyes are not glazed at all, rather they hold understanding. He understands what must be done.
Alucard’s foot pushes off the ground, bends the knee, stands, and, no, he is not Adrian, for there is a cracking, a cracking like lightning, a cracking like the world breaking.
And it is the most horrible sound either the Room or Castlevania have ever heard. More horrible than the squelching any heart Dracula ever ripped out. More horrible than the desperate pleas of his victims. More horrible than the cackles of his friends. More horrible than the crying of the child that Castlevania can still hear echoing through the Room.
—(The sound Castlevania hated so so long ago, and now longs for far more than anything else in the world, longs for that painting to swallow the universe and bring it to life again)—
Castlevania and the Room can both feel that sound like a thousand splinters and spider bites, like both of them shattering as if they were made of glass after all. Even the furniture here bleeds.
Vlad backs up, putting his hands over his face—Don’t hurt them, they don’t know what they’re doing—
—(Yet…he hurt them all. So much so he didn’t just disgrace her words, he tried to kill her gift, their son, her blood)—
“Your greatest gift to me. And I’m killing him.”
He lifts his hands from his face and looks into his son’s eyes, his own so alive, despite their glass, tilting his head to the side. Everything slow and gentle now. He is Vlad. He is Adrian’s father. Not the vampire king who put innocents on stakes. But they all know something happened to Vlad on the night Lisa died.
“I must already be dead.”
And Castlevania, burned and bleeding, understands. The final piece of the puzzle has been put into place. It has been dead too. It’s life, bound in red to its master, will break to the call of a stake. Because a reflection cannot exist without the thing it reflects.
Because…they are mortal.
That was the trade, all those years ago: immortality for mortality. Lisa would gain an immortal mind, and Dracula a mortal soul. He would teach Lisa the knowledge of immortals, the methods of healing that must be kept secret to live with a vampire like time held no grip on them. And she would teach him how to live as a man, how to travel as a man, how to care for his son, as a man, as a father. And in that moment his soul was bound to hers.
She brought the undeath in him to life, and Castlevania understands; only things that are alive can die.
It learned through Lisa, through Adrian, what it was to be alive. And it knew that undeath, while not death, is not life. Dracula was undead and his body could not die. But now that she brought him to life, he could die. His soul already died with her. He’s been rotting in an empty shell—no wonder Death could tie those puppet strings to him. That’s why the emptiness in him was so active; cold and dark and empty were only adjectives before, now they are nouns; he was emptiness, death, walking around. And that, too, is what Castlevania has become. It too is mortal. It didn’t die with her, but something in it ceased to tick when Dracula came back without a soul in his chest, and it knows, bruised and burned, broken, and bleeding that that stake in his son’s hand is calling them both.
You knew all along, didn’t you? Castlevania asks the Room, and there is no malice, no blame, there.
The Room jerks its head up to look at Castlevania, then its eyes soften and it grimaces. I hoped I was wrong. The Room replies softly. I…I hoped there was another way.
Alucard’s eyes hold some sympathy, some semblance of the boy they once knew, in fact rather too much, for both threaten to pour out of those eyes and stop all this. He doesn’t want to. But it’s too late for anything else.
Vlad eyes hold some semblance of the man they once knew, so much so they threaten to make him something more than ruthless, something that doesn’t deserve to die. He closes them tilting his head. He knows what must be done.
There is no anger in either of their eyes, no determination, not even resolve. Not anymore. Adrian wants to free his father in the only way he can.
A step forward, and this step has purpose, that stake is silently growling, drooling at his side as he stalks his prey. Another. Another. Like the beating of all their hearts, and the atmosphere is so silent that everything can only break.
And Dracula will not stop him, will not fight back. Not this time. Like all those times he let his son win, because even though he was more skilled at at the game, it was more satisfying to see Adrian smile.
He is not here to talk things out.
Alucard barely raises that stake—
A second horrible cracking, this one in flesh.
This time he aimed higher.
Dracula’s mouth fills with blood, it seeps through the cracks in his teeth. The blood from his chest drains down the stake—the broken piece of childhood—down his son’s arm, collecting on his elbow, and when it hits the carpet a burn begins to appear on the Room’s chest.
A grunt as Vlad leans forward, the blood dripping from his mouth to the floor—another angry gash upon the Room’s skin, and the Room is trying to pretend it’s okay, but it can’t hide the hurt in its eyes.
It knew what had to be done…but the violence goes against its nature.
His eyes fill with blood, but not from undead purpose. The moon is still clean. These are those bloody tears, the ones from the song earlier today. He is free, relieved…and he will never see his son again.
“Son.”
To remember the living, and those who will live on without him.
And the word is spoken very differently than it was earlier today. Then it was solid and hollow. Now it is ghostly, and so full it could hold all the world. Their world, at least.
This Room, this Castle, that word. They are their whole world.
And it is an honor to have been a world to such terrible, wonderful creatures.
“Father.”
To honor the dying, and what they once were while alive.
The word on Adrian’s tongue is the same, though more solid, more alive, and thus able to hold more pain. A faltering breath, a cracking forgiveness.
The word means something now, at the end, where before they were nothing more than titles. They are pleading with each other. They are bleeding with each other.
They don’t want to do this. They shouldn’t have to. It is far too cruel.
Mothers shouldn’t have to bury their daughters, and sons shouldn’t have to kill their fathers. It’s an unspoken rule of life.
But Alucard can’t stop there. He must finish this. The fire, the resolve regurgitates in his eyes, and he pushes harder, like with the magma ball, and, no, this cracking is worse, because Castlevania can feel it in its own chest now.
Castlevania can hear its master’s heartbeat, can feel it with the drops of blood dripping and sizzling on the floor, and it thinks it might just be its own heartbeat.
Alucard does not hate his father: there is pain on his face. But he cannot stop there.
He must end this war. And unlike those given with kisses to his forehead once, this goodnight is not gentle. Not this time.
He inhales,
closes his eyes,
and breaks his father’s chest.
That stake goes right through Castlevania, and something in it involuntary breaks.
The control room never was Castlevania’s heart. The destruction of the die was merely the amputation of both its legs, still bleeding out. This is a breaking, not of skin or bone, but of something deeper. It thinks this might just be what it feels like to cry.
And something happens in the breaking. A change of some sort. Castlevania isn’t quite sure what—pain and disorientation are the best of friends—all it knows is that the world is smaller now, and hurts less.
And as Castlevania’s heart breaks, the reflection in the painting shatters, the reflection of the bond between father and son severing with a stake.
The world is so much smaller now.
Dracula’s head jerks back and, eyes now seeing something other than this world.
Dracula is no ordinary vampire, so he does not die like an ordinary vampire. Rather than catching on fire, there’s just smoke and ash; his face drains, turning from ghostly pale to a charcoal, black without flame, before it really is ash, sliding off his face, his cloak like sludge.
There’s no orange, just the red stain, and the grey his life was marred of. Ash and smoke. The true undeath.
Alucard turns his face away, still holding the stake in place.
Dracula lifts up a hand, a skeleton hand, and Alucard turns to see the skin sloughing off around his ring. Though his spirit may have left, it seems his body won’t quite let go of this world; with mere bones Dracula reaches out, takes a step forward, as if to touch his face, to hold his son one last time, to catch the last embrace he was not afforded.
Adrian has shed that resolve, now he can do nothing but take slow and careful steps back away from the monster he has no sword or shield to fight. He the child again, the one who belonged in this Room, shying away. He is Adrian, the one who didn’t like the stories that were bloody. And in all the years the boy spent in this Room, the sheer fear in Adrian’s eyes as he looks up to see his father’s rotted face, with mouth agape, leaning bloodlessly towards him—an image that Castlevania fears will haunt him the rest of his days—is matchless.
Hurried footsteps at the door. The Speaker and the Belmont, at last, have made it to the show, though it seems they paid for only the final song. They step upon the threshold to see the rotting corpse of the king stepping towards his fearful, tearful price.
The Belmont draws his sword, and Dracula’s deflated head—the one that seemed so alive moments earlier—lies in a bloody pool on the floor. And as the neck bleeds and the Belmont watches the body fall to the floor, he isn’t sure if that was enough.
And Castlevania can’t feel its heartbeat anymore.
“Alucard. Step back.” Sypha’s voice is tempered. “Let me finish this.”
He does, the steps cautious and small, sorrow in his gaze. He holds the unbroken bedpost till his hand shakes.
Castlevania never liked children, the crying, the leaving, the guests, or being controlled.
But it did like Lisa. It did like Adrian. And—be it a sting—it did like the sunlight. And always and forever, it loved its master. A reflection cannot help but adore the thing it reflects. A creation cannot help but be a worshipper of its creator. A dream cannot help but revere its dreamer.
“You want me to.”
Smiling a little at how true the words were, in the end, Castlevania found it quite liked the relief.
Castlevania puts a hand on the Room’s cheek, smiling, and its mouth tastes less like blood now. It looks at the moon—bleeding no longer—and blue calm fills every part of it.
“What a wonderful night to have a curse.”
The Room stares at the castle, a little horrified by the sentiment.
“What…What should I do?” The Room stutters, fear and realization coating its words, for it knows what’s happening.
Castlevania smiles wider than ever, and its voice sounds softer; “The children.”
“What?”
“You should let them in. Any child who needs refuge. Along with as many guests as your master wants to welcome. And you should cry. Cry when you need to—and let your master cry too. Stay, but let him leave, if he must, knowing he will always come back. Let yourself be controlled at times, because sometimes that which feels the least right is the most right.”
“I—I don’t understand.”
“Be warm. Let the light in every window. Be full, and most of all, live. Can you do that for me?”
The Room holds onto the Castle to keep it from falling, tears already descending its cheeks.
“I—I will try.”
The Speaker lets the flame loose to eat the pieces, to engulf its master’s body in the fire he stared at all along, as if yearning for its embrace, creating a spiral of flame upon the circle in the carpet.
They were right to assume it wasn’t over, at least, because there are shapes in the flames; from the smoke and ashes rises a tower of skulls, a legion of spirits, more than a one king’s soul should hold. They’re all crying havoc, war, blood and pain from a yesterday long forgotten. Their smoke snuffs out the flame, blight covering the Room, blocking out the stars that so enraptured them earlier. Sypha and the Belmont cover their faces, but Alucard is unsurprised and undaunted by the darkness lurking in his father’s chest, and faces it without looking away. This darkness bursts out the window like a flower bloom, flows like a river out into the hall—the one cracked and bruising—flying over the war Room where the war resides no longer, and escapes into the night, fluttering, spiraling around Castlevania’s parapets like butterflies.
On the charred floor, the only thing left of the king is his wedding ring.
Castlevania sees the vampire king as he once was; young and restless. The skeletons eating stakes. Castlevania remembers what it once was: lightning, books, gears, and a few lonely words. It sees the woman with the knife at the door. It watches them build the Room. It watches the boy grow up into this beautiful thing.
Castlevania always wondered if it could breathe. It was never quite sure. The Room always seemed to possess a kind of life it never had; a life that hid in the breath.
“Take good care of him for me,” Castlevania murmurs to the Room.
“Have I ever failed you before?” The Room tries to smile, wiping its eyes.
As the sun rises over the hills, a single ray filters in through Castlevania’s window, touching it, filling every part of it, and for once it doesn’t sting.
And with the last sigh of the last ghost circling the parapets, Castlevania exhales its last breath.
#castlevania#castlevania fanfiction#castlevania netflix#alucard#dracula#castlevania fandom#netflix castlevania#alucard castlevania#dracula castlevania#castlevania alucard#castlevania dracula#vlad tepes#adrian tepes#adrian fahrenheit tepes#trevor belmont#sypha belnades#vlad dracula tepes#lisa tepes#castlevania fic#castlevania fanfic#castlevania trevor#castlevania sypha#sypha castlevania#trevor castlevania#isaac#castlevania isaac#isaac castlevania#if these walls could talk#castlevania writers
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Could you please do a part 2 for the dracula one shot please ? Maybe like reader holds they're breath when they're scared ( i have a tendency to do that, which is a bad habit lmao ) and godbrand almost bites them (isaac, and hector were protecting them but godbrand hurt them to get to reader) (dracula is busy ATM moving the castle) and they actually fight him off and hide in a chest ( mini drawer) and they hold their breath until they pass out because they're scared af ? And then Dracula is looking for them and is kind of panicking because it's dead silent because reader is out cold inside the chest they were hidden in? And eventually he does find them? Thank Thank you 💕✨🌌☺️💝
Hello there😁😁 I’d be more than happy to write a part two for the previous one shot😁😁
~~~~~~
I’ll Never Let Anything Happen To You ~ Dracula x Reader ~ Part two of “I Love You”
~~~~~~
~~~~~~
//Warnings: Language, Mentions of Blood, Beheading//
~~~~~~~
It had been a few days since Dracula had witnessed you having an anxiety attack, took care of you and confessed his love to you. You of course returned his feelings. When you saw Hector again, he told you that Dracula made him and Issac promise to protect you. He told Little Cesar to stick near you and to come and find either himself or Issac should something go wrong.
Dracula had also given you a knife so that you would be able to defend yourself if Godbrand or even Carmilla decided to take a bite out of you.
And here you were now. Running for the blood crazed undead man...again. You wished he would just give up. Little Cesar ran with you, sticking to your side. You ran into a dead end. You whirled around and knelt before Cesar.
“Cesar, go find Hector and Issac. Bring them here. Quickly?” You said. With a bark, Little Cesar was off, looking for the two Forge Masters. You took the knife out of a holster on your waist. You kept it hidden in your sleeve.
“Where have you run off to, human?” Godbrand’s voice rang through the empty hallways, bouncing off the walls. You started backing up, your senses on high alert. Your back hit a chest. A hand wrapped around your throat.
“Found you Human.” You yelped and whirled around, brandishing the knife. You swung. The knife cut Godbrand’s arm, allowing you a chance to escape. You turned and faced the Vampire, keeping the knife in front of you. Godbrand laughed.
“You really think that a simple knife will harm me? A vampire?” Godbrand asked. You were prepared to fight, however, the barking of Little Cesar brought relief to you.
“A simple knife might not, but we can hurt you!” A familiar voice called. Before you knew it, Hector and Issac were standing in front of you, weapons brandished. Godbrand growled.
“Why must you humans always interfere with things that don’t concern you?!” He shouted. Issac narrowed his eyes.
“I will have you know, filth, that Dracula himself told us to protect [Y/N] with our lives! And we intent to keep that promise!” Issac shouted. Godbrand growled. He had enough of these petty humans! He raced forward and swiped his hand forward. He slashed Issac on the arm, drawing blood. With his comrade down, Hector ran and stood in front of you. Unfortunately, the Forge Master didn’t stand a chance against Godbrand’s inhuman strength. Godbrand smacked Hector’s form away from you, his form smacking into the wall. Godbrand faced you. To his surprise, you ran at the Vampire and stabbed him in the chest. Godbrand growled in pain. Before he could recover, you raced off. You ran to Dracula’s study and crawled into a chest that was big enough to fit your whole body. You curled your legs into your chest and shook with fear. Unconsciously, you held your breath.
Dracula sighed as the castle landed in another location. His job was done. Now he could go back to his love. Dracula smiled. His Love. The new light in his life. His new reason for living. Another loud bang caught his attention. Dracula narrowed his eyes. He knew Godbrand was at it again. Trying to suck the blood out of his Lover. Why the Vampire hadn’t killed the pest already, he did not know. With a WHOOSH, Dracula appeared where the sound came from. He was surprised and amused to see Godbrand leaning against the wall with a knife in his chest. The very knife Dracula had given [Y/N]. Dracula slowly walked up to his fellow Vampire.
“Where are they?” Dracula growled. Godbrand glared at his Vampire Lord.
“I don’t know where your fucking play toy went.” He said. At this point, Godbrand was signing his own death certificate. Dracula growled.
“How dare you! You ignore my orders, you attack the two people who were appointed by ME to protect my Love, and you try to kill them,” Dracula wrapped his hand around Godbrand’s throat and squeezed. “Why I haven’t killed you until now is beyond me. But now, my Love will never have to worry about their safety. Ever again.” With a ripping sound, Dracula tore Godbrand’s head from his shoulders. Barking caught the attention of the Vampire Lord. He looked down and saw Little Cesar. “Do you know where my Love is?” He asked. The undead pug barked in confirmation and took off.
Dracula follows the pup to a chest. Dracula opened the chest and his expression softened. There his lover lay, legs curled up to their chest. Fear still on their beautiful face.
When you came to, you were in familiar strong arms. You saw Dracula cradling you in his arms, gently stroking your face.
“Hector? Issac?” You asked. Dracula nodded.
“Both are being tended to. I’m so sorry you were exposed to danger. It should have never happened.” He said. You smiled at the man you fell in love with.
“You need not apologize, my Love, I am alive.” You assured him. Dracula looked down.
“I have been meaning to talk to you about that,” he said. He gently brushed some of your hair away from your face. “You have made me feel more loved and more alive than I ever have. I want to spend eternity with you. [Y/N], my Love, would you allow me to turn you into a creature of the night? A vampire?” He asked. You froze. He was asking to take away your humanity. He wanted to stop your heart, forever. He wanted you to be like him.
“I’ll do it,” you said. Dracula seemed genuinely surprised by your acceptance. “I’ll allow you to turn me. I want to spend eternity by your side.” You said. Dracula smiled.
“I’ll never let anything happen to you, I promise.”
~~~~~~
//I hope you liked it, Anon. I apologize that this took me so long to get out. I was really busy with work and college. I am taking Early Childhood Education college classes so that I can be a preschool teacher and possibly open my own daycare center someday. One thing my mom and I noticed is that I only have to take two more classes until I can get my Teacher’s Certificate. Once I have that, I will be a certified teacher! How cool is that?! Anyway, I hope you like this, Anon. If not, I’m more than happy to rewrite it😁😁//
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Finished Season 4 of Castlevania: the Netflix, and thus the whole series! And I’ve got a lot to say!
Here’s the biggest observation for this season: I get the impression that they didn’t originally plan for this to be the final season. It feels like, at the start of Season 3 they believed they were going to have two more seasons, and then maybe by the time they started wrapping that up they were told they’ve been cut down to just one more, so they had to speed of the pace of Season 4 dramatically to make sure they could still hit the ending. I have no actual evidence to support this- I haven’t read any interviews or official comments to that effect- just a gut feeling based on aspects of the plot:
Biggest support of this is how quickly Saint Germaine is just like “ok I’m evil now”. He immediately submits to the random woman who tells him he’s gotta be evil to find his lady love, there’s one scene of him murdering a guy, and then he’s all-in on being a villain, complete with “I AM A GOD WHO FUCKS” monologuing.
In addition to Saint Germaine’s heel turn feeling half-baked, the Dracula’s resurrection plot in general really doesn’t feel all that important until the finale. Varney is a comic relief character, which in hindsight was completely intentional, but Ratko and Draken are just huge fighter dudes who weren’t involved with Dracula’s court during Season 2, but are very into bringing him back for reasons that are never clearly explained besides the assumed “it’s Dracula so we gotta”. Additionally, the way major characters like Hector and especially Isaac treat the resurrection plot don’t help, although it makes perfect sense that they both do what they do.
The things that happen in Targoviste, and the way they happen, also contribute, especially because there’s no satisfactory resolution to it. Trevor and Sypha start to help the people organize and rebuild, and then get whisked away to the Underground Court. They barely have time to react to the fucked up shit going on down there before they teleport to the castle to kick off the finale. More time to let hostilities between them and Zamfir bubble up before the reveal of the Underground Court, along with a more satisfying build-up to Trevor collecting the components of the Super Holy Dagger would have been good.
Season 3 ends with Alucard in Hector in very bad places: Alucard has just been betrayed by the twins vampire hunters, which has brought out a misanthropic streak, including him leaving them on pikes, and Hector has once again been duped into an even deeper submission than he was in as Carmilla’s prisoner at the end of Season 2. Trevor and Sypha’s vignettes establish that roughly a month and a half have passed, which was apparently enough time for Alucard to basically get over his trust issues, enough to help the villagers, and Hector to not only cope with the reality of his situation but also finally develop into a character on par with every other major character in terms of competence.
Carmilla and Isaac’s stories didn’t feel rushed like everything else I’ve mentioned, but following the train of thought that there was originally going to be more episodes, both of them could’ve stood to have more time and events to get to their final forms.
So, Death: I don’t know how I feel about Death as portrayed in this series. On the one hand, this interpretation technically not being Dracula’s right hand as he is in the games, and instead being an independent actor that stands to benefit from Dracula’s rampage and thus serves the same capacity as a right hand, is incredible. On the other, the fact that Death’s true personality is actually just Varney fucking blows. The design for Death is also not my favorite, because it reminds me just a bit too much of Castlevania Judgment, but Malcolm McDowell being the voice actor is really cool. In conclusion, Death is a land of contrasts.
On that note, “no it’s not Death Death, it’s an entity that calls itself Death that feeds on death and is an elemental spirit- or force of nature in other words- but is distinctly different from the personification of the concept of-” just fucking say “yeah for all intents and purposes it’s the Grim Reaper”. Coming up with a semantics explanation for why vampires get fucked up by crosses to explain the cross subweapon is fun, don’t undercut your final antagonist by trying to rationalize it into something less fantastical.
I already said that I liked the motivation behind Death, but also the execution of “I’m going to bring back Dracula wrong on purpose” and the way he accomplishes that is the best it’s ever been.
I thought Varney hopping over the stream of holy water was a fun cap on the argument about whether or not vampires can cross over running water from Season 2, but was in fact clever foreshadowing, since Death isn’t a vampire. Good stuff!
I think it’s just because I’ve been focusing a lot on animation quality over the last few months, but I noticed they started using 3D models a lot more this season. I imagine it was a matter of practicality considering that there are more action setpieces in this season than the other three combined. I think this is ultimately a good thing, because they do a very good job of masking the fact that they’re using 3D most of the time because it still looks very good, unlike some of Netflix’s other 3D action projects, and if it makes life easier for the animators without sacrificing quality then that’s a win for everyone.
Didn’t think much of it at first, but I’ve really come to appreciate the term “night creatures” as a catch-all for monsters in this series. It’s generic enough to encompass everything regardless of design difference, but more unique than just ‘monsters’ or ‘demons’.
I had heard someone make a joke about a character wearing Artorias Dark Souls’s armor for a scene because fuck you, but holy shit, Striga really does just wear Artorias Dark Souls’s armor for a scene because fuck you.
When Saint Germaine first shows up, his lines sound really low quality compared to Alucard and Greta, and then that issue goes away after that episode. I imagine that it was pandemic related, but clearly Bill Nighy was either able to get into a studio or eventually got a better home setup- couldn’t you just have him re-record those lines?
I’ve talked so much about how Carmilla’s design in this series is The Best™ because they masterfully adapted a single sprite with no animation from a 1987 video game into a fully realized design, and this frame in particular struck me as perfect. This is the best this character has ever looked and likely will ever look.
I love how optimistic and positive the tone of everyone’s ending is. Ranging from the unexpectedly beautiful and uplifting resolution to Isaac’s story, to the foundation of a town that fundamentally accomplishes what Lisa hoped for at the very beginning of the series, it’s all nice way to go out. Even Lenore choosing to commit suicide, while not necessarily optimistic or positive, is at least on her own terms.
Dracula and Lisa also having a happy ending is nice. It doesn’t really make any sense, and it makes me wonder what Richter’s call to action is going to be in the next series, but I think they were right to have the series end with the same two characters it opened with.
AYY SOMEONE THREW A WINE GLASS!!!
Unfortunately, I’d say Season 4 is the weakest of the series, but they did everything they could to make sure they provided an explosive finale and a solid ending. This was a damn good show and without a doubt the best thing to be associated with Castlevania in over a decade. Not that it had much competition there, but still!
As a final note on the nature of Castlevania as an adaptation: I can certainly understand why certain people don’t like this series. If you’re looking for Castlevania: The Video Game: The Animated Series, you’d walk away disappointed because of how many things were changed in adaptation, how much they were changed, and that so much is just made up from whole cloth. But an animated series isn’t a video game, and while an eight episode series where each episode is a different stage of non-stop fight scenes, complete with a big boss fight at the end sounds like it could be cool, if that’s what I really want I’d probably be better served just playing a game.
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Hello there! I hope You're doing well, even if You're busy 💦I was wondering if you could write something (short fic or HC) about a shy s/o who tries to befriend with Alucard & Hector, but they being cold or even a little bit aggresive (after What happened in s3, no spoilers if you didn't watch it yet!) but s/o is determined to helps them even receiving nothing in exchange; because s/o loved them after all & just want Hector & Alucard to smile genuinely again 💔
A/n: I added issac. Since I’ve been gone so long I’ll be doing bonuses ;)
Befriending Alucard & The Devil Forgemasters
Alucard
He’s cold.
Colder than dry ice.
You wandered onto the grounds of the castle.
Wounded and weak.
He was going to leave you there.
But, he’s not a monster.
Yet.
He stood over you, looking down with a vacant expression.
You smelled like blood, sweat and ... horse piss.
He knelt down to roll you over on your back to look at your face.
My my, aren’t you a cute one.
He’ll take you in after all but, only until you’re able to stand on your own two feet again.
When you finally come to, he’s leaning against the canopy bed post.
“You’ve been sleeping for 16 hours. Once you’re fed and smelling...better. Leave.”
You had no recollection of how you ended up there.
Even so, you weren’t ready to leave.
He seemed lonely. He wore it on his sleeve, despite the cold exterior he sported.
You found yourself in the kitchen, he was nowhere in sight but, a plate of freshly foraged food and cooked fish sat on the table.
Alu watched from the shadows, fighting the faint smile threatening to crack his stone face.
The way you swallowed and inhaled the food reminded him of a child.
He frowned.
After you ate the food you moved to bathe.
You gawked around to make sure you weren’t being watched.
Ever since you arrived you felt as if eyes were on you.
They were, he was just good at hiding.
He watched you bathe, so serene and beautiful.
When you finally dressed, he confronted you.
“Leave.”
He didn’t want you there. He wasn’t smiling and well, it’s not like you could defy him.
He wasn’t above killing you just because he can.
Cause he would and will if you refused.
‘No?’
He genuinely wasn’t expecting you to say that. He believed he looked scary enough.
You stood your ground.
‘You’re all alone here, this place is like the catacombs..’
He creased his brow, he didn’t care if you were right.
His sword came flying at you, the tip pointing at the side of your temple.
You flinched, you couldn’t hold up that front anymore.
He saw past that, and it amused him.
“Leave I won’t ask again.”
You weren’t going to take your chances with a sword pointed at your head.
You left.
Albeit, you stayed in the woods.
He couldn’t stop you from living out there, he caught sight of you trying to fish for yourself one day. A comical sight.
During the early morning he halted in his tracks. At his feet was a small pile of foraged food.
Was this from you?
Everyday, for the past week you left food at the foot of the castle doors for him.
He ignored it each time.
It wasn’t until there were no more signs of your presence in the forest did he care about where you were.
Never miss something until it’s gone.
He didn’t bother looking for you though. Assumed you just gave up.
It’s expected.
One cold night there was a loud crash in the depths of the wine cellar.
He wasn’t in there, he wondered if an animal got in.
That’s when he found you, in the corner under a table, sleeping.
It was freezing but, it didn’t compare to being outside.
He left you there.
At least you weren’t dead.
That same morning he caught you rummaging around his pantry.
You didn’t have time to process anything.
He pinned you down to the table and hovered over you, baring his fangs.
“I knew you were a thief.”
You stuttered out, but nothing coherent spewed forth. You could only shake your head, trying to reach down into your satchel.
He did it for you, still holding you in place. As he looked into your bag he saw a bird, a small wounded bird.
It reminded him of you.
He let you up with a frown.
“You were making sure it didn’t freeze and starve to death, I see..”
He was now conflicted, he almost killed you for being a good person.
He was turning into his father lmao 🚩
“Fine. You and the bird can stay here. Just..leave me be.”
He left again.
As weeks went by Alu kept his distance, you tried your best to close it but that proved to be difficult.
You knew you were getting somewhere though, because he smiled.
“You named the bird Lisa?”
Hector
He’s got a nice little room for him, it beats laying naked in a cell right?
Lenore gave him a “servant”
If Hector needed anything, you were to let the the vampire Queens know.
And so you sat with Hector, he was silent and he never looked your way.
You were a vampire, and yet charged with his remedial task?
He didn’t understand.
‘Do you need anything Hector?’
“Stop talking to me.”
That’s as far as you get with him when you ask.
You don’t press him.
Lenore said he might try to choke you out but she said she “tamed” him so it should be fine.
You bring his food, his work tools, and books.
Never does he acknowledge your presence.
It’s like you’re a ghost.
As you set down his plate you move around to clean his room.
He wasn’t doing it himself and Lenore wouldn’t stand for a messy or dirty forgemaster.
He ignored you for a good thirty minutes.
For twenty-five more minutes, he watched you.
You were quiet, introverted and shy.
You were only just doing your job and being polite for these past few days.
He was being nothing but awful to you.
Not that it bothered him, in the slightest given his treatment by the vampires.
Carmilla and Lenore more specifically.
Your reservation is what drew him in ultimately.
“You don’t have to clean this you know.”
‘You aren’t so, I do. Lenore doesn’t like messes.’
Hector scoffed at the mention of her name and looked away from you.
Still he was cold, but he talked more.
“I’d like to go out for a walk if that’s possible.”
You escorted him on a stroll through the castle grounds.
When you two stopped by a balcony over a snowy cliff he sighed out.
“I’m trapped here, forced to create an army...I should’ve died back in Dracula’s castle.”
You frown, reaching out to touch his face he quickly smacked your hand back and stared at you hard.
“Don’t touch me. I know how all of you vampires see us humans.”
He was bitter.
“Food, or a pet play thing. I will not let you do the same to me, Lenore did that just fine.”
He left, walking back to his little corner of the castle.
A few more days a had passed.
Your attitude did not falter towards him which only confused the forgemaster.
He was an asshole and yet you were kind.
The only one to show him a shred of true kindness since he’s arrived there.
“What’s your name?”
He randomly asked, you look his way a faint smile on his face.
Was he finally going to open up?
Isaac
A traveler you were, there was a lunatic old man who had someone you loved dearly under some kind of mind control spell.
You sought out to free them, or so you thought.
You passed the old forgemaster woman a while ago.
Finally you came across what looked to be a mass genocide.
You looked around in horror, seeing night horde creatures and bodies littered around the entire area.
You were going to run but a giant winged beast dropped down in front of you.
What the fuck is that!!!
You fell back and crawled back as it dawned on you.
You were about to get eaten by a monster.
All you had with you was a a measly little curved dagger.
You gripped it tightly, if this was your fate you weren’t going to go down easy.
“I see you’re a fighter.”
Who said that lmao.
No one was in sight, before you knew it the wingged beast swept you up.
It dropped you on a stone walkway that lead to the castle Issac took over.
You scrambled to your feet, holding the dagger out as the creatures of the night began to surround you.
“Why have you come here?”
That same voice..
It only made you look for it harder, you twirled your head to the left and then to the right
Finally a man in a cloak and dark clothing showed his face.
Staring at you blankly.
“Speak now or be eaten”
He wasn’t giving you much of a choice so you told him.
He looked you over before looking away from you.
“Whoever you’re looking for is long dead, they’re likely one of my night creatures.”
Issac’s red eyes drifted over to catch your expression.
It wasn’t sad, you looked to be relieved more than anything.
Were you different than the humans he has come to know?
‘They’re no longer suffering.’
His eyes widened, he wasn’t expecting to hear that.
He was silent for a brief moment, still undoubtedly curious about you.
“Yes..that is true.”
Everything you came there for was gone you had nothing, you looked over at Issac and he met your eyes.
Subconsciously your cheeks warmed a bit and his eyes narrowed.
‘Are...you gong to make me a creature of the night?’
“That entirely depends on you.”
He twirled his knife idly, a faint smile on the corner of his lips.
“I can’t have you leave yet, prove your worth as a human then maybe I’ll consider letting you go.”
You wondered how you could do that, by the way he spoke you could tell he was a man of deep intellect.
You knew just how to prove your worth.
“A conversation?”
He pondered it, and accepted. A conversation on philosophy and morals.
He wondered if he’d like what you had to say.
After a few hours of talking he seemed to be content.
The views you both were akin to on another, he didn’t protest to you staying a bit longer than you first intended.
He liked hearing you talk.
After all, you had nowhere to go and Issac was the kindest human you’ve met in quite a long time.
#alucard headcanons#alucard imagines#castlevania fanfiction#castlevania hector#castlevania isaac#hector castlevania#issac castlevania#alucard castlevania#castlevania adrian tepes#carmilla#lenore#castlevania imagines#castlevania trevor#carmilla castlevania#castlevania netflix#castlevania alucard#castlevania headcanons#hector#issac#alucard#imagines castlevania
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I feel dirty for doing this, but I do have to raise one point in defense of NFCV's Dracula. While Carmilla and Godbrand saw him as either a crazy person or a shortsighted idiot who wasn't planning ahead for what would be done after humanity was dead, it was heavily implied, if not outright stated, that Dracula knew that he was dooming himself and vampirekind to death via starvation, he just didn't care.
In Season 2, Episode 6, around the 5 minute mark, when Dracula narrated out loud that he was only moving the castle to get his generals to shut up, he lamented that he was doing all this, "Just to keep the peace between squabbling creatures who will starve and die before the end of the year anyway."
Further, Alucard outright said that Dracula wanted to die before calling the war "History's longest suicide note". I read this as Dracula being fully aware that he was going to die as a result of his extermination, in fact, it's what he wanted. His goals were humanity's extinction as revenge for killing Lisa, followed by his own death because he was just so lethargic and miserable for the entirety of season 2, and he just didn't care if the rest of the vampires died out as a result (Which, honestly, makes the fact that as many of them followed him as they did completely ridiculous, but then again, none of them were actual characters outside of Carmilla and Godbrand).
I know. "He just didn't care" is exactly my point :P
The games never think too deeply about the consequences of Dracula's eventual victory, that much is true. Logically, it's an easy conclusion to reach: if Dracula manages to destroy mankind, and he's a vampire who needs humans to live, he'll eventually starve. But I think it's because it's not really the point: we already know that Dracula's plan is insane, and him for even going through it.
Dracula is targeting the entirety of mankind for the sins of a mob in a random village. Dracula went so far as to make a pact with an Evil God to gain more power. Dracula is completely disrespecting Lisa's memory - he may not have known her last words, but surely he'd know that she wouldn't appreciate a mass slaughter of her own kind in her name. Hell, LoI is all about how Dracula has been an overdramatic, spiteful, petty king even as a human! "Wife died. I'm going to reject my whole humanity, and in doing so causing the death of my bestie's fiancée, but that's okay, I'll propose him to become immortal later". Dracula is not operating on rational thinking, it's obvious: he's a wounded animal lashing out, but this wounded animal is a threat to humanity as a whole.
It's the tone of the show that is different. They never bring up the sheer cruelty of Dracula's overreaction, not even Alucard himself, who just halfheartedly says in episode 1 "well, just kill the people who were responsible!" (thanks man, you're really helpful). Dracula is not really planning anything: the death of starvation of vampirekind feels like an afterthought to him, because the poor thing just wants to die. Dracula is stuck in his Depression Chair not because he's an arrogant lord who can afford to defend himself through the Legions of Hell, the two superhuman knights that command them, and Death itself (or not, since the show didn't even give him that): no, he's just So Depressed and lethargic, as you said. Dracula is relegating everything to others, while patiently waiting for everyone to die. And the others clearly aren't doing a good job, since Carmilla can whisper in Hector's ear "hey prettyboy mind going to braila" and that's it, she seized control of the castle.
Dracula and Isaac knew that Carmilla was bad news. They gave her want she wanted anyway, and then had the balls to go all surprisedpikachu.jpg face when her plan proved to be for her benefit and their downfall.
Dracula: So if I let them go to Braila, they'll stop scheming and whining.
Isaac: I think so. It will give Carmilla some power, but that's not a bad thing.
Dracula: No. The War Room will speak to you and Hector
in one voice instead of a dozen.
Isaac: Indeed. And at the end of the day, you don't care. So long as the war continues.
Dracula: *sighs* Fine, then. I'm tired, lsaac.
And while I certainly am happy to blame Isaac, the pretentious prick who thinks he's so smart, I'm not letting Dracula getting away with this. Again. Dude allowed Carmilla to insult him and Lisa in public, with her reasoning being literally "I gave you the opportunity to address everyone's concerns", and gave her less than a slap on the wrist. Everything about her screams "I'm only here to amuse myself and I don't respect any of you", and she is not stopped on the first day because uhhh plot reasons (she really should have been more subtle, but eh).
It's just... everything compounded that paints a poor picture of Dracula. He's a Depressed Man whose evil plan at this point is working on inertia (I don't think we see a single village being destroyed in S2, the most that happens is Carmilla making Hector send his Night Creatures to the Belmont Hold? Again, instead of another scene where Alucard is a cunt to Trevor, how about showing us the important shit that is going on?), and whose Depression allows everyone to do what they want because he just wouldn't command an ounce of respect anymore. And, and this is the important part, we're meant to see him as a deep, nuanced, tragic character because he's Sad.
Admittedly, I'm biased. One, Shankar himself painted Dracula as "not an actual villain", as if we're meant to feel sorry for the guy. So the authorial intent of stripping Dracula of his perceived "evil" is there.
Two, this is personal :P but the one thing, the one singular thing that snapped me out of my appreciation of IDW Sonic is precisely a similar instance:
Eggman, the dude who canonically managed to conquer the world some months prior and always had backup plans for his backup plans (Sonic Forces), is now a mindless buffoon that refused to think of a cure for his apocalyptic virus because... eh, couldn't be bothered. Even when his own plan miserably fails, he refuses to think of a cure out of childish stubborness.
And why is that so? Because Eggman canonically is a dumbass who "never, ever has a solid plan"? Nope, to prop up the OC, who is so much smarter than the main villain of the stupid games!
The shilling was so blatant I couldn't believe my eyes at how fast the writing had downgraded. (and then it got worse lol)
Funnily enough, Starline and Carmilla have a similar downfall. Starline ends up stealing Eggman's tech to do everything, his plan is straight up insensical (replacing Sonic and Tails with Surge and Kit, his evil androids that look and act nothing like the real deal, to subvert the hero/villain cycle???) and he dies like a jobber. Carmilla wakes up one day and decides to conquer the world ignoring the logicistical difficulties, so that she too can get the "wow she's so stupid for not thinking things through" treatment. So everything they did was for nothing. I'd say they're clever parallels, but that would need the writing to be clever.
And Frontiers also gave Eggman the "humanization" process by making him suddenly accept a creation of his as his daughter... while also making him completely ineffectual, relegating him to a corner of the plot while the real antagonist was using Sonic for its purposes. I watched NFCV not long after Frontiers came out. By that time I was tired of this.
So I suppose I'm rather... sensitive to this kind of writing, where the villain is downgraded either in villainy or effectiveness for the sake of either 1) making them more pitiable, or 2) allowing OCs to look better by comparison.
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Gotta go a tiny bit dark for a moment, how would trevor, godbrand, sypha, drac, and the forgemasters handle an s/o who's libido fluctuates wildly and struggles a lot with her body image? I'm sorry if that's too many characters, I just really really love them..
Gonna lean more into the body image part of this ask. Bonus Alucard cause I mean, we got the rest of the crew, might as well.
Trevor
General attitude about it is - Why though? (Trevor, please)
Is very much the sort of person who stands by if your body works then there's nothing wrong with it, so it's a bit hard for him to understand.
Okay, maybe he's a little self conscious about the sheer number of scars he has, but that's just because they bring up a lot of questions.
But he likes your body, and what you do to him with said body. So when you have moments where you pull away and look at yourself with disappointment he just can't quite wrap his head around it.
He'll try to be more careful with his comments towards the parts you don't like, cause god knows he'll fuck up trying to compliment them in a way that doesn't sound overbaked.
But when he's making love to you he makes sure to touch everywhere.
Words are hard, but he knows how to work with his hands.
He tries to utter soft praises, but most of it comes out as single word grunts like “perfect” and “ god-yes”
Oh, he'll also remove the eyes of anyone who makes a jab at what you're sensitive about.
Alucard
A bit of genuine confusion about it.
He just genuinely thinks you're the most sublime creature on the Earth so how could you not see that in yourself?
He certainly won't stop you from working on things you want to change, he will train with you if you want to change your body composition or he'll offer to research skin treatments if you have complexion concerns.
But only if you ask, he's never the one to suggest it. As far as he sees it he's just helping you achieve something you want to accomplish, not "improving" you.
However he does know that change doesn't happen overnight, so he gets sad when you express frustration over not being there yet because he can't really fix time.
So he stays close, lets you vent while he gently traces your face with his fingers.
He gets a bit drapey with his affection when you're down. Never pressing sexually, he just sort of stimulates a cocoon of limbs wanting to hold all of you close.
You might also notice more little gifts showing up where you can find them. Flowers by your bedside, pastries by your favorite chair, tokens of affection to assure you he is just as enamored with you when you aren't feeling your best.
Sypha
Is visibly upset when she sees you mentally tearing into yourself, but that's just because she couldn't hide an expression if she tried.
Wants to talk with you about it, to find out if it was something somebody said or a result of something someone did.
If it's something that is changeable, she'll offer to help you with your goals, keep you motivated while also insisting you do NOT have to do any of this for her.
If it's not something that can be changed she'll try her best to listen, let you vent when you feel frustrated.
She gets conflicted between either wanting to give the parts of yourself that you don’t like *more* attention or trying to make sure to compliment the other parts of your body she loves (aka, the rest)
She might admit to you some of the spots she doesn’t like much either, like the scars on her shoulder, or the stretch marks around her knees.
Regardless she’ll always match your mood, throwing herself at you with gusto when the lust strikes, or being very gentle and soothing when you aren’t feeling up for it.
Gets up in the face of anybody who might make a rude remark, even if it might risk escalating the argument to melting the offender’s face off.
Dracula
Has seen many many many bodies in his lifetime (won't tell you how many of those were no longer living), he sees the variety as a staple of humanity.
So yeah, it distresses him to see you dislike anything about yourself.
But he also knows that’s not something he can just tell you you’re incorrect over and be done with. It’s not something he can actually control.
So he simply makes himself available, however you need him.
You in the mood to get dicked down? Yup, he can do that and mend the bedframe afterwards.
You need a few slow days with minimal touching? Okay, he’s got all the time in the world. He’ll stay within earshot until you call him, then he’ll cater to whatever you need.
He’s not super keen on trying to use any sort of magic to alter your body, even if you ask. Unless it’s life threatening of course.
He also makes it a mental note to be exceedingly clear that each time he has you bare before him he regards you like a devout cardinal would his holy texts.
Divine.
Godbrand
(Why, why ya’ll gotta pick the hard one for sensitive topics)
He thinks you’re hot, all the time, any time of day. So when he notices you going from a sexual high to a sexual dry, he honestly thinks it’s his fault.
Starts apologizing about whatever the fuck pops into his head (though this is a Godbrand apology so it’s stuff like “I’m sorry I dropped your favorite mug three months ago but I told you not to leave it on the edge of the counter like that”)
When you first explained to him what was actually up he’s...confused.
To behonest probably first went to his favored huntsmen and asked them what the fuck to do
Which was met with equally confused shrugs and panicked “Why the fuck would we know better?”
In the end he sort of resorts to brute forcing through it.
He sees you take a little too long in the mirror looking at yourself. Nope, no, nu uh, he hauls you up and finds something to distract you with.
He’ll try to offer ideas of how to help if it’s something you can change, if not he’ll just be six times as loud when he’s boasting about how perfect his partner is to the village.
Hector
Oh nooooooooo this gentle man, he’s so concern
He can pick up on your mood shifts as if he could hear them announce their presence.
He’s just as good at silently reading into what you want him to do next.
Sometimes it’s just to lie with you, touching your hair and face, murmuring sweet nothings into the space between you two. How lovely he finds you, how happy you make him.
He knows how cruel the world can be, especially over something as fickle as appearance. He hates that anyone could ever have instilled in you a disliking of your own body.
He’s never pushy about his more carnal wants, and never makes it about your attraction towards him. He trusts that you’re still interested, you just need time here and there.
Sometimes he will get a little flare of adoration when he sees you, when he remembers the areas you told him you aren’t fond of, and will absent mindedly want to touch them. Gentle brushes of fingertips, a soft smile resting on his lips until you bring him back to reality.
He might not be verbose in his support, but you’ll never shake him from it.
Isaac
Is honestly the one mostly likely to get frustrated over what in his mind is a baseless insecurity. Never shows it, but internally has trouble understanding it.
He gets the social troubles, humans being vain and cruel creatures, but to him a body is like a well-worn tool. What you don’t like you work to either change or adapt to.
But he also knows that mindset does not arrive overnight, and though internally he might feel a tug of irritation when he can feel you pull away he is very careful to not show it.
He’s never going to convince you of his adoration for the temple that is your body if he gives in to his temper and tries to force the change for you.
So he will be patient, offer you guidance when you ask for it, remain silent when you don’t and you simply need to speak your insecurities.
Though you might see a flash of bewilderment in his eyes when you mention something new that upsets you about your body he is quick to bury it and return to attending you.
He’s always delighted when your mood lifts again and he can resume touching you as he likes, fingertips digging into your skin and humming softly with satisfaction.
Carnal pleasure might be a more primal vice, but he doesn’t mind giving in to it when he can use it to show you exactly how much he likes the “tools” you were given.
-Mod Soviet
#trevor belmont#godbrand#sypha belnades#vlad dracula tepes#hector#isaac#adrian tepes#gender neutral reader#mod soviet#imagines#Castlevania
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Castlevania Season 4 Ending Explained
https://ift.tt/3wc0Tcr
This Castlevania article contains spoilers.
Netflix’s Castlevania comes to a close in season 4. Trevor and Sypha head to the city where the war with Dracula began, while Alucard finds new purpose beyond his castle. And when a new threat arises that’s bigger than anything they’ve ever faced, the heroes have to band together once again to save humanity.
The penultimate episode of the series feels like a final boss fight, and it’s only fitting that everyone converges at Dracula’s castle for the fireworks. Here’s what happened in the series finale and what it all means for the characters:
So who was Varney really?
There’s more to Varney of London than what we see in the first couple of episodes of the season. Varney’s plan goes far beyond conquering Targoviste and killing Trevor Belmont and Sypha Belnades. He actually turns out to be the main villain, and the final boss, of the season.
Castlevania season 4 drops its big twist in episode 9: Varney reveals that he’s actually the Grim Reaper, a vampiric being who feeds on the souls of the dead. His plan to resurrect Dracula and Lisa Tepes inside the Rebis is truly twisted. By combining their souls, which have been stuck in Hell all this time, inside one body, Death hopes to drive Dracula mad, which will cause the reborn vampire to go on a murderous rampage that will engulf the entire planet. This would mean an endless food source for the Grim Reaper. Fortunately, Trevor and his friends are able to stop this madness just in time.
Why did Isaac spare Hector?
Ever since the death of Dracula, Isaac has been on a mission to avenge his master, punishing those who betrayed the Lord of Vampires. At the top of his list are scheming vampire queen Carmilla and Hector, a fellow Forgemaster who was manipulated into turning on Dracula. While Isaac vanquishes Carmilla and her minions during an exciting battle sequence in episode 6, he decides to ultimately spare Hector despite his role in Dracula’s fall.
It seems that by the time he launches his attack on Styria, Isaac has had a change of heart, wanting only to stop Carmilla from subjugating the world. While he once felt nothing but contempt for humanity, he decides to do the right thing and give mankind a chance at peace. With Carmilla gone and her forces depleted, the world can finally begin to rebuild.
But why does Isaac to let Hector live? For one thing, he recognizes that Hector has known nothing but suffering since he betrayed Dracula and was enslaved by Carmilla and her sisters. Isaac also realizes that Hector was manipulated in the first place, unknowingly helping Carmilla solidify her power. Isaac chooses to carve a new path for himself and allows Hector to begin to do the same, a happy ending for the two Forgemasters.
What is a Rebis and why did Saint Germain betray his friends?
The Grim Reaper’s plan is to transport Dracula and Lisa Tepes’ souls out of Hell and into the Rebis, also known as the divine hermaphrodite in ancient alchemy. The Rebis is a symbol of the “great work,” the ultimate goal of the alchemist, which involves “spiritual transformation, the shedding of impurities, the joining of opposites, and the refinement of materials,” according to Learn Religion. In ancient alchemy, the Rebis represents “a reconciliation of spirit and matter” and has “both male and female qualities.” The “great work” is also used to describe the alchemist’s mission to create the philosopher’s stone, a mythical substance that was said to turn base metals into gold or silver.
This is a bit outside my area of expertise, but as the Rebis relates to Castlevania season 4, it goes back to Count Saint Germain, who is an alchemist who has strayed from his path to find the woman he loves whom he lost in the Infinite Corridor. After helping Trevor and Sypha stop the cult in Lindenfeld from resurrecting Dracula, Saint Germain is finally able to travel back into the interdimensional portal.
But instead of his beloved, Saint Germain encounters a fellow alchemist in the corridor (actually Death in disguise), who tells him that the only way for him to find his lost loved one is to achieve the great work, in this case creating a literal Rebis that will act as a vessel for the souls of Dracula and Lisa Tepes.
How did Trevor survive his fight with the Grim Reaper?
Trevor and the Grim Reaper’s final battle atop of one of the towers of Dracula’s castle can only end in death. Unfortunately for Trevor, he’s tremendously outmatched, as the Reaper’s final monstrous form easily overpowers the vampire hunter. It’s only through sheer force of will that Belmont is able to land the final killing blow, but it comes at a cost.
When Trevor stabs Death in the head with the dagger, the villain explodes in a bright flash of light, seemingly engulfing Trevor in a ball of fire that he couldn’t have possibly escaped. At least that’s what Sypha, Alucard, and Greta think after the blast.
But, just as a heartbroken and pregnant Sypha is about leave the new village of Belmont, Trevor reappears, half-dead on horseback. How the hell did he survive that explosion?
Well, the explanation is a blink-and-you’ll-miss-it moment: right when Trevor is about to land the killing blow, the camera cuts to a dying Saint Germain, who eyes the key to the Infinite Corridor one last time. According to Trevor, Saint Germain opened the portal one last time, just as the explosion rocked the castle, transporting the vampire hunter to safety in the nick of time. Just go with it.
Read more
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Castlevania Season 4 Easter Eggs Explained
By John Saavedra
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Assassin’s Creed: What the Netflix Series Can Learn From Castlevania and The Witcher
By Matthew Byrd
Who is Trevor and Sypha’s child?
Trevor and Sypha are having a baby! In the original continuity, Trevor and Sypha have two children, one of which becomes the parent of Christopher Belmont, the protagonist of two Castlevania games for the Game Boy, 1989’s The Adventure and 1991’s Castlevania II: Belmont’s Revenge.
Meanwhile, in the Lords of Shadow alternate timeline, Trevor and Sypha give birth to Simon Belmont, the protagonist of the 2013 Nintendo 3DS game Mirror of Fate. But in the original timeline, Simon is also the protagonist of the very first games in the franchise, the 1986 original and 1987’s Castlevania II: Simon’s Quest for the Famicom and NES.
Depending on which timeline the animated universe wants to follow, Trevor and Sypha’s offspring could lead to either Christopher or Simon. That said, there’s always a chance that a future Castlevania Netflix series could simply introduce a new, never-before-seen Belmont character, the son or daughter of our our two heroes!
Why did Lenore kill herself?
Lenore struggles to find her place among the vampire sisters. Carmilla, Striga, and Morana have turned to war, with Carmilla planning for world domination. Lenore’s role is diplomacy, which is the perfect skill set for tricking Hector into eternal servitude but not the one needed in a time of war. She feels left out and useless.
Things only get worse when Isaac attacks their castle, killing Carmilla and imprisoning Lenore. But unlike Hector, who seems content to be with her, even as he schemes to resurrect Dracula and help topple Carmilla, Lenore doesn’t want live the rest of her eternal life in a cage. She chooses instead to die, walking into the day for the first and last time.
cnx.cmd.push(function() { cnx({ playerId: "106e33c0-3911-473c-b599-b1426db57530", }).render("0270c398a82f44f49c23c16122516796"); });
How are Dracula and Lisa alive?
While we know that the Grim Reaper and Saint Germain were able to use the Infinite Corridor to free the souls of Dracula and Lisa Tepes from Hell, it’s unclear how they were able to find new bodies and resume their lives as flesh and blood. In an interview with Screen Rant, executive producer Kevin Kolde explained what happened after Dracula and Lisa were freed:
“So, Lisa and Dracula are pulled out of Hell by Saint Germain using death magic, and they are put into the body of this Rebis where they’ll be trapped, and Death hopes that they’ll be very unhappy and kill lots of people. Lots of souls to eat. Trevor destroys the Rebis using holy water, so their souls are dispatched from the Rebis. That’s essentially how they get back from Hell to the real world. And they go [back into their own bodies]. It’s death magic.”
It’s canon that Dracula is returned to life every couple generations, so it makes sense that he’d be back, and while it seems like he’s getting a happy ending in the finale scene of the series, Castlevania fans know that happiness is not meant to last in this universe…
The post Castlevania Season 4 Ending Explained appeared first on Den of Geek.
from Den of Geek https://ift.tt/3bsu577
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I read this theory on TvTropes and the domino stacks in my brain fell: Netflix!Julia will fulfill not only her game counterpart’s role, but Rosaly’s as well. How? It will be her false name.
First of all, why? Hector is a magician who got Dracula’s attention, and wasn’t killed after backstabbing him. He sounds badass on paper, right? Whoever heard a rumour of him would assume he’s a sorcery powerhouse, not a sad sack who fell in with the wrong crowd. So Julia plays it safe, lying about her name and her relationship with Isaac to extract from Hector how much of a threat he is to her and her brother. Being just so damn good and open-hearted, she manages to pass right through the walls he puts up around humans and become his first real friend. Unfortunately, any plans to come clean are crushed when Hector learns who she really is in the worst way possible, because obviously things need to get worse before they get better. Voila, “Rosaly” dies because she never existed.
She can also be what turns Hector and Isaac’s one-sided rivalry into archenemies. In Curse of Darkness, Rosaly’s death thanks to Isaac’s machinations is the catalyst for Hector going on the warpath. We know Isaac won’t stop trying to finish Dracula’s murder-suicide plot if Julia asks nicely, and will meet force with deadlier force when she stops asking. Then things take a turn for the worse again, when Isaac gets the idea to harm Hector through Julia, his sister or not. Watching Isaac react like this forces Hector to accept they are not as similar as once assumed: Why does Isaac want to end human life when one of those humans loves him, cherishes him? How is the one thing Hector has been grasping for all his life not enough for Isaac? Well, he can’t stand by and let this woman he’s falling for be killed by her mad brother, which drives him toward his destiny as a hero who stops Isaac and saves the world as a side benefit.
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