#cv1
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I have drawn Simon again :)
The fourth image is based on the art for a Vocaloid song lol, “Leming-ming” by Kairikibear . And the last two are outfits from some dress up games I was playing around on.
But yeah! Actually posting new art, I drew these yesterday!!! Wahoo! d(^^ )
#castlevania#castlevania games#simon belmont#art post#my art#simon’s quest#Castlevania nes#cv1#akumajou dracula#picrew is fun to play around on sometimes#I used to have like a massive dress up game phase as a kid so heck yeah silly dress up game website yippie!#I wish the ads weren’t absolute insufferable tho 💀💀💀#I was playing on it on a computer rather than my phone and someone saw the ads on the side of the screen oooof that was hard to explain#also ignore the eraser sitting in the top corner lol#it’s covering up some really awkward attempts at a character design#when one project doesn’t work just make the page a Simon page problem solved#this is also not the first time I’ve drawn simon in the pose of a Vocaloid pv artwork btw 💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀#I should do that again >:)#jokes aside it is a good way to study composition tho#I suck at backgrounds so it helps 👍#how to draw Simon:#1. make him absolutely massive#2. make him cute#3. don’t forget to add the constant air of deep sadness and loneliness in his eyes—#4. no pants#you done it! a him!#anyway time to redraw something sad I drew a couple years ago hehehe—
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1980 Suzuki CV1
My tumblr-blogs:
www.tumblr.com/germancarssince1946 & www.tumblr.com/frenchcarssince1946 & www.tumblr.com/englishcarssince1946 & www.tumblr.com/italiancarssince1946 & www.tumblr.com/japanesecarssince1947 & www.tumblr.com/uscarssince1935
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Simon discovers a black mass conducted in Christ's honor one Easter evening.
CW: sacrifice, death, descriptions of violence, religion/worship
There is joyous music and revelry being carried faintly on the wind. It’s origin is likely from Jova to the east, Simon notes as he patrols around the Belmont estate on foot.
There’s a twinge of sadness that ruins an otherwise joyous occasion, for today celebrates the resurrection of Christ. Simon and his family have celebrated in their own way, of course—but it is isolated, lacking community and the warmth it could bring. The family would likely be unwelcome in the village of Jova, even if they could be united by sharing the same faith.
Simon’s job is a thankless one: on the rare occasions he does venture into Jova for provisions, it is hurried, transactional, and without drawing any attention to himself. Those who realize that he is a Belmont descendant turn cold and callous. Is it due to his stature? Simon does what he can to make himself unimposing as he navigates town, speaks gently, kindly, and with humility.
Despite Simon proving all he can that he is a good, honest, God-revering man… they still keep him, and his family, at arm’s length.
Thus, the Belmonts live on the outskirts of the village, beyond the forest of Jova, keeping careful and dutiful watch, but rarely close enough to cause Jova’s residents distress.
It’s a lonely, thankless existence.
But as night begins to blanket the sky, and Simon conducts his nightly watch, he reminds himself that it is the same faith that drives his family to conduct themselves as they have for centuries, regardless of the villager’s favor: for it is God’s will that the Belmonts be selected to undertake this monumental task of fighting evil. That is honorable enough, and it serves as Simon Belmont’s guiding compass for evenings just like these, when loneliness weighs heaviest on him.
It is a challenge willed by God, and Simon accepts that challenge readily.
There’s a darkness that washes over the sky—odd, it is still early for nightfall—and Simon listens carefully for any change on the wind.
Something’s not quite right.
As if on cue, Simon’s attention is drawn to the Vampire Killer strapped to his left hip. It does not move, but he can feel the pull of it: some magical force weighing it heavier in place. Something to get his attention, maybe.
Unease fills Simon as he retreats back to the Belmont estate to collect his horse. But before he can, he notes his wife standing in the doorway of their home.
He pauses to go to her first.
“Stay inside.” He commands, voice firm.
“What’s going on?” She asks, stepping back into their home. “Did something happen?”
Simon fights a frown as he grapples with being honest with her.
“Something’s not right. I’m going to investigate.”
Selena nods with understanding, not desiring to keep him longer than needed, but…
she looks past him, towards the sky looming over the Jova forest. Simon follows her glance and notes what has caught her attention:
billowing storm clouds have appeared, unnaturally dark in hue.
Simon’s attention returns to Selena when he feels a hand rest on his chest.
“Be safe.” She commands, looking up at him.
Simon merely holds onto her hand there, firm, as he nods to her. Promptly, he break away from her touch, rushing to collect his horse from the stable. He works quickly to prep the saddle on his horse’s back.
As he’s leading his faithful companion out from shelter, Simon’s greeted with thunderous lightning as it tears through the dark clouds in the distance.
Emboldened with purpose, Simon mounts his horse, taking off towards Jova forest, in the direction where the sky has turned black.
As his horse carries him dutifully through thick forest, Simon’s throat tightens as they get closer still: an unfortunate sensation that Simon can only fault instinct for.
Another crash of lightning rips through the sky, too close for comfort, and it startles Simon’s companion, rearing up and away from the source. Simon does what he can to rein in the mighty animal, struggling to maintain his balance.
“Easy!” He calls out, transitioning the reins into one hand, while the other moves to gently stroke her mane until she calms in her own time.
“Just a little further.” Simon hushes, commanding the horse to continue ahead towards the overflowing darkness.
The two locate the source:
an abandoned monastery, whose foundation is hardly more than rubble undone by time.
But there is an undeniable evil present, seeping through its bricks, tainting the very earth it stands upon.
Simon stations his horse, wasting no time in unholstering his whip. As he clutches it in his right hand, winding it’s length twice in his grip, he feels its weight, and the heat emanating from it. It is a silent warning, one Simon himself can sense:
vampires are near.
Swallowing his fear, Simon surveys the place of worship, looking to find a point of entry.
Another rupture of lightning illuminates the scene, and it is not followed by thunder, no. It is announced by a sound infinitely more chilling:
a woman’s scream, loud, and far too close.
Simon does not think before kicking down the monastery’s doors and sprinting inside.
Color fades from his face as he takes in the horrible sight:
a black mass, so very far from God’s light, conducted on Christ’s own date of resurrection.
Sacrilege.
Hooded members encircle a young woman, naked, whose limbs have been strapped down against her will onto an altar.
Simon meets this woman’s eyes as her head falls back.
It is already too late: there is no life in her eyes. Her life has been taken by those in attendance, by the very dagger that sits squarely in her chest.
A ritualistic sacrifice.
Rage boils over as Simon sprints towards the members—who appeared to be human in stature, but the Vampire Killer reveals them for what they truly are.
Or, so Simon thought.
He has the opportunity to only grab one by the cloak, hard, before the others disappear in a cloud of dark mist.
“What have you done?!” Simon shouts at the hooded figure in blind rage, readying to strike them with the whip in his hand.
“It is a humble offering to Christ on this, his day of resurrection.” The other replies.
Simon takes note of his face: even illuminated only by candlelight, he can see that the stranger is gaunt, sullen. Almost corpse-like.
“How dare you conduct a black mass in Christ’s name!” Simon shouts, his grip on the other tightening further still.
His only earns him a laugh.
“You’ll be enlightened in time, to the true form of Christ. He is risen, and now, He has the strength to walk among us once again, thanks to our efforts!” The stranger explains, making light of the fresh tragedy in this room.
Simon is heaving with rage, now. “Sacrifice is not His will!”
“You know nothing, Belmont.” The other tuts disapprovingly. “You’ll meet Him in due time. He’s waiting for you.”
Simon takes pause, eyes searching the other’s face, trying to unfold this terrible situation.
Christ is waiting for him?
That’s impossible.
“Go to Him.” The other commands, malevolent. “Go to Castlevania.”
Recognition flashes across Simon’s face:
Dracula has been resurrected.
#happy drac ressurection day lol#wanted to challenge myself to write something with heavy emphasis on religious themes#what better than the plot from the Japanese manual of CV1#i hope you like it#akumajou dracula#castlevania#simon belmont#my writing
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its a happy easter this year haha i sure hope nothing terrible happens *foreboding lightning as Dracula's Castle
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Castlevania: Harmony of Dissonance
Name Entry 2K2
#castlevania#castlevania music#harmony of dissonance#music of the day#how many people knew that cv1 had a name entry for fds?#the original sounds like it's from a detective game#this remix is longer and creepier with the reverb#when even the name entry theme tells you everything you need to know about the game you're about to start#the bass going ham is always 👌
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ooe deep lore: all of georges music records that you can buy after you finish his quests are the 8bit nes castlevania soundtrack, implying that he was a wildly experimental and influential musician for his time (the 1800s)
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♫ — verse tag drop — ♫
♫ — ( v0 ) everyone comes here but nobody leaves | unspecified
♫ — ( v1 ) i jumped across for you oh what a thing to do | main
♫ — ( v2 ) your eyes looked like coming home | mamma mia
♫ — ( v3 ) singing sad songs in a hotel room | alone in la
♫ — ( v4 ) set fire to the rain | pro skater
♫ — ( v5 ) hope i never lose you hope it never ends | nyc
♫ — ( v6 ) let me live that fantasy | royal
♫ — ( v7 ) lace up my high tops | stevens point
♫ — ( v8 ) wish i had a river so long i could teach my feet to fly | figure skater
♫ — ( v9 ) whole school is rolling fake dice you play stupid games you win stupid prizes | stranger things
♫ — ( v10 ) american glory faded before me | homecoming royalty
♫ — ( v11 ) all that we are but not all that we'll ever be | right wrong number
♫ — ( v12 ) on a silver screen living life like i'm in a dream | hollywood
♫ — ( v13 ) feelings we had before when we were so innocent | wedding date
♫ — ( v14 ) with my first and final rose | the bachelor
--
♫ — ( gv1 ) unitas est invicta | nevermore academy
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♫ — ( cv1 ) start of something new | hsm
♫ — ( cv2 ) tale as old as time | beauty and the beast
♫ — ( cv3 ) who knew cuddling on trampolines could be so reckless | camp shallow lake
♫ — ( cv4 ) something in the summer wind | senior summer
#♫ — ( v0 ) everyone comes here but nobody leaves | unspecified#♫ — ( v1 ) i jumped across for you oh what a thing to do | main#♫ — ( v2 ) your eyes looked like coming home | mamma mia#♫ — ( v3 ) singing sad songs in a hotel room | alone in la#♫ — ( v4 ) set fire to the rain | pro skater#♫ — ( v5 ) hope i never lose you hope it never ends | nyc#♫ — ( v6 ) let me live that fantasy | royal#♫ — ( v7 ) lace up my high tops | stevens point#♫ — ( v8 ) wish i had a river so long i could teach my feet to fly | figure skater#♫ — ( v9 ) whole school is rolling fake dice you play stupid games you win stupid prizes | stranger things#♫ — ( v10 ) american glory faded before me | homecoming royalty#♫ — ( v11 ) all that we are but not all that we'll ever be | right wrong number#♫ — ( v12 ) on a silver screen living life like i'm in a dream | hollywood#♫ — ( v13 ) feelings we had before when we were so innocent | wedding date#♫ — ( v14 ) with my first and final rose | the bachelor#♫ — ( gv1 ) unitas est invicta | nevermore academy#♫ — ( cv1 ) start of something new | hsm#♫ — ( cv2 ) tale as old as time | beauty and the beast#♫ — ( cv3 ) who knew cuddling on trampolines could be so reckless | camp shallow lake#♫ — ( cv4 ) something in the summer wind | senior summer#tag drop.
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Twisted Wonderland boys sharing a tent with you!
Part 2 will come eventually probably most likely
Stuff you should read: Romantic intent! Was supposed to be bulleted but i got lazy, Setting is set in Camp Vargas 1/2 even though i havent actually read CV1 and im only on book 1 of CV2 *cries* leona favouritism because i didnt realise how long writing an entire events drabble would take, sleeping on the floor because i have never camped before and the idea of figuring out how this would work with sleeping bags makes me want to do bad things
Characters: Leona Kingscholar, Malleus Draconia, Azul Ashengrotto, Lilia Vanrouge
(count how many times melora uses the word exhaustion challenge, go!)
LEONA KINGSCHOLAR
After thanking Ruggie and Epel for their help setting up yours and Leona's tent, it was time to help everyone else, so that the Spelldrive Club wouldn't get chewed out by Vargas.
Well… That's what you had in mind, before Leona pulled you down to the grass with him, ordering saying you should relax with him.
“Oi. Come sit down with me.”
“Leona, I have to help everyone else get set up.”
“They'll be fine without you. Now, come sit.”
Helping them would have to wait for whatever else was in store.
Once the first event was announced, and the three objectives were set, you were determined to help the Spelldrive Club at least a little. Pulling yourself from Leona, you decided to follow Ruggie and Epel through each objective.
After an exhausting 3 objectives, night had come, and everyone in the Spelldrive Club were relaxing by the campfire. Whether they be sharing stories, or cracking jokes, everyone was fairly lively for having just gone through the ringer. Everyone except Leona, A.K.A. the only one who didn't do anything, that is. He had his head resting on yours, half-asleep.
Ruggie was actually the one to point out that you two should go to bed, stating that you looked like hell, and that Leona was already snoozin'. So, you practically dragged Leona from the campfire, saying goodnight to Epel and Ruggie, and finally went to the confines of your tent.
Once you got in the tent, and got decently comfortable, Leona, who by this point was already asleep, attached himself to your back like a leech.
“….ve you.”
“Leo? Did you say something?”
“No. Go t' bed, Herbivore.”
he totally said ily then got to shy to admit it in his borderline sleeping state.
i love him
ok so i didnt realize how long these end up being sooooo the rest are gonna be just the tent shenanigans *sighs*
MALLEUS DRACONIA
Once you two got into the tent, you couldn't help but sit down with a sigh. Even though you two were part of an art club, it felt as if Vargas was just as hard on you as he was on the sports clubs.
“Child of Man, is something wrong? You seem down.”
You answered him with another sigh, “It's nothing. Today was just a little tough, is all.”
Malleus sat next to you, opening his arms, “Why don't we lay together, then? You seem to always feel better afterwards.”
Your face would light up ever so slightly, crawling from your spot and into his arms as he laid down. Your head was next to his chest, and you could easily feel his calm heartbeat through his attire. Eventually it was enough to lull you into a light slumber, yet through the drowsiness, you could feel Malleus' lips on your head with a few soft words.
“Goodnight, Child of Man. I love you.”
I AM SO IN LOVE
AZUL ASHENGROTTO
Out of the two of you, Azul was the one to cave into exhaustion first. He practically flopped onto the tent floor the second he walked in. He was a mess. His face was beet red, his breath ragged, and he couldn't stand the thought of staying awake a single second longer.
With the last ounce of energy he had left, he grabbed your hand as he went down, pulling you with him.
“Wuh- Azul!”
“[Name]...” He groaned. Obviously the soreness and drowsiness was getting to him, “'m so tired.” He wrapped his arms around you, groaning again, “Let's sleep now.”
You slowly wrapped your arms around him, chuckling, “Okay. Goodnight, Azul.”
“Mmn. Night.”
You didn't see him this tired very often, but it seemed you'd have to find a way to see him like this again.
“[Name]!!! Azul! Look at this cool stone I found! +20 MP!”
Oh lord......
LILIA VANROUGE
Lilia was, surprisingly, nowhere near tired, even though he was decrepit. So, when you were sat at the campfire with the rest of the pop music club with your head on his shoulder, he chuckled.
"My. Are you falling asleep, [Name]?"
You shook your head insistently, "No. 'm not tired, just resting my eyes, is all."
You could practically see him laughing through your closed eyes, "Uh huh. Wise words from an old man such as myself; I can tell when someone is falling asleep. Oftentimes that person should go to bed."
You pulled yourself from dreamland and opened your eyes, "No, I'm awake. See? I was just resting m' eyes."
"More wise words; Fae can tell when humans lie."
Kalim gasped, "Wha?! Seriously?! That's so cool!"
Cater agreed, much to your chagrin, "You could totally be put on those lie detector shows! Those ones where they ask those suuuper toxic couples questions about each other!"
"Mmn. Is that true, Lilia?" You looked over to him. He had a minor habit of telling you something to prove a point , then taking it back.
He nodded, "Mhm. So we should get to bed, right?"
You slowly nodded. As much as you could deny it, nothing could get past Lilia the Lie Detector. You stood up while rubbing your eyes. Lilia waved goodbye to his club members, retreating with you to your tent.
The second your head hit the pillow that Vargas had so kindly given the arts groups, you were asleep. Lilia gazed upon your sleeping form, smiling softly. Fae couldn't actually detect lies, but you didnt need to know that. All you needed to know was that he knew you very well. You two were together, after all.
He laid next to you, admiring you, and how your body rose and fell with each calm breath, and how your hair fell to frame your face beautifully, and especially the drool trickling from your mouth already.
He would definitely have to tease tell you about that tomorrow.
AAAHHHHHHH FIRST EVER POST!!! Did you guys like it? I'm hoping to write some more in the future, including a second post to this one! currently, sebek, jack, and floyd kinda have a chokehold on me so they'll probably be in the second part!
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m.list
@mit0ee 's work, please do not steal!
#twst x reader#twisted wonderland x reader#twst imagines#leona kingscholar x reader#twst fluff#leona x reader#Malleus draconia x reader#azul ashengrotto x reader#Malleus x reader#azul x reader#lilia x reader#lilia vanrouge x reader
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Ya know what I think is really sad? There’s so many artists who have worked on Castlevania that either don’t get credited, have incredibly little information about them, or aren’t appreciated nearly as much by the fandom as others. It’s to the point where while I was looking up information for this post, Google was only giving me Ayami Kojima as the answer for “who painted the Castlevania 1 cover art”. Which is so sad because! like! I love Ayami’s artwork!!! But she is not the only artist for the series! And I love everyone else’s artwork too!!!!!!!! :(
Anyway, the only information I could find about the art of CV1 and CV2 is that Noriyasu Togakushi was the character designer for the games, as well as for CV3. But I’m not sure which artworks he did for these games. Some sources claim that he did the cover art for the first two games, others (updated just as recently) claim that the cover artists for both games is completely unknown. And I’m not sure if he did the cute little manual doodles and concept sketches either, but I’d say those are probably more likely his since cover arts were commonly outsourced at the time and concept sketches like that seem more in line with the work of a character designer, but I could be wrong. Sadly, many websites have a habit of crediting an artist and then not specifying what works are theirs. And judging by how little information there is regarding everyone involved with working on those games, even the main writer/director, it’s also possible that we might not actually know which works are his.
Regardless, I wanna thank this guy for probably having designed Simon Belmont, the man I draw or want to draw almost every day of my life :)
I hope that the images show up correctly cause I’ve been having some weird issues with images lately. When cropping the image, it shows the correct one, but the thumbnails aren’t showing up right at all on my end. I was initially going to make this a larger multi artist appreciation post, but I don’t wanna have all the images switching for no reason with that many images ugh. So uh yeah ok bye—
#castlevania#simon belmont#castlevania games#art post#castlevania artists#cv1#artist appreciation#love the artwork for these two games#and yes I know that CV1’s cover is inspired by The Norseman by Frank Frazetta#I am aware#it’s still good tho#it’s not like it’s directly traced over it it’s just pose reference taken#I’ve compared the two before and Simon is actually built wider#the Ravenloft theft was shameless tho lmaooo#like that is ravenloft#with Dracula’s head slapped on the vampire guy#there’s a reason why the European release got rid of the background#the simon is good tho#don’t look at Dracula#this ain’t about him#XD#the manual doodles are also so cute#everything is so scrunkly#the scrimblos!#they look so silly#I love it#and Simon’s messy hair in the Simon’s Quest doodles#I wanna pat him on the head (platonically)#i am very normal#especially about characters
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Hello chronicles Simon! How about your views on the fashion sense of Cv1 &cv2 simons? (and may I also draw out your reply?🥺)
(On CV1 Simon)
"I take issue with the all-metal bracers this first warrior is wearing. He’s a whip user, like me—but the rigid metal will hinder the movement in his forearm. His blows won’t be as accurate without full articulation. Leather gloves that cover the forearm would be a better choice.
I struggle to understand how his headband offers protection… Is it just for show?
His stature is impressive, however. He looks to be a mighty hunter."
(On CV2 Simon)
"For the second warrior… how can he expect to move at all in such heavy armour? If he wielded a sword, I would understand, as combat would be in close proximity. But as a whip user, this isn’t efficient. He is over-dressed.
His leather bodysuit is a smart choice, however."
(Please do! I would love to see that!)
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Castlevania I + II Fanfic: A Horrible Night's Dream (Chapter 1 preview)
I wrote this fic for @eboni-napalm as part of a Halloween gift exchange that started back in like... 2021 😱 After two of the roughest years for me ever (school/health/family/general RL problems all happening at once), I've actually been able to work on it!
While I'm still finishing up my final draft of the first chapter (fingers crossed I can do it before midnight!), I thought I'd post this preview of it here for tonight for any CV fans who might be interested in reading... and hopefully checking out the rest. It's the first 4 out of 8 vignettes to be contained in the completed first chapter, set in CV1 era for now.
Game: Castlevania I and II
Pairing: Simon Belmont + CV2's "Mysterious Woman" (😉)
Themes: Prophecies, Curses, Fighting Fate, Anachronic Order, Second Person POV, Experimental Style
Content Warning: General themes of prejudice, non-graphic human sacrifice scene
Thanks so much for your patience eboni-napalm-- I'm so sorry about the delay, but getting to work on this story has been rewarding and challenging in the best kind of way! 💗
Check out the story below!
i. now
To one who dreams the future, the present is the past. And thus all your remembered life has been a divided one, waking eyes on constant guard and inner eye fixed on time untold, like two-faced Janus in the body of a girl.
You've never been able to consider your nighttime visions a power, or even a gift: not when they've only come to you as you've lain helpless in the dark, bringing unwanted glimpses of a greater darkness in the world that encircles the realm of dreams.
And if some force beyond even that world can tear through the layers of time to give you a fleeting glimpse of what lies on the other side, then one lone human attempting to change the future’s design in response seems as futile a task as attempting to prevent an avalanche through the placement of a single snowflake.
But that's never stopped you from trying.
ii. then
To the citizens of Transylvania, he may have been a savior, but to you, he was no different from the rest of them—which placed him somewhere just above scum. And so, as all of Jova turned excitedly north to welcome their conquering hero home, you chose to remain alone in the wooded outskirts of town, where they'd told you your kind would always belong.
Simon, the latest golden boy of the Belmont clan, with a mane of golden hair and bags of looted gold to match, was already the stuff of legends. He'd journeyed alone only days before to Dracula's stronghold beyond the mountains, slaying its monstrous guards and unholy master in a single night and escaping just in time to watch the demon castle crumble at dawn. Stories of his triumph had already traveled down from the hamlets at the foothills and across the river from the town of Yomi, faster than the news of the Dark Lord's resurrection on the night the Black Mass occurred.
The night they’d shunned you for the last time.
iii. now
The future creates itself in the darkness behind your closed eyes. Your essence stares back from the depths of your mind.
Another vision, two-sided as always: fate's promise to you, and yours to yourself. You will fight it, the truest part of you swears, in the waking world where dreams can't reach, no matter what you'll see and see again.
It catches you off guard anyway.
As your mind's eye clears, the darkness that clouded it coalesces into a black sea, the crests of dozens of waves rising ominously from its surface. The light comes next—faint touches of distant moonlight and dancing candlelight, refining the indistinct sea of shadows into something all too real.
Hooded worshippers, lit by candles as black as their robes, fill the gutted remains of an old church. The church is dark, and the night outside is darker, showing through the shattered stained-glass windows like a void swallowing up the holy and the fair. Idols and relics, goat-headed demons and inverted stars and things you can't decipher, lurk just at the edges of the shadows.
But it's the thing on the altar that scares you the most.
Nearly shrouded in a tattered black cloak, it lays limp and motionless, sickly pale as any corpse—but with a countenance alert as any living man. Its face is twisted into a rictus of mad triumph, sightless eyes fixed on the crumbled ceiling above and a sky empty of stars, as if to mock, even now, whatever higher power watches from above. You're certain you've never seen it, through this eye or your outers. And yet, the longer you stare, the louder a primal alarm seems to scream from somewhere deep inside you.
Known and unknown, mighty and weak, living and dead—the thing’s very existence is a contradiction made flesh.
Clarity flashes across your mind in the errant glint of candlelight off a fang.
You know, now, what this thing is. Its—his—name is Dracula: scion of the dragon, the devil's very son.
His dark grip still chokes Transylvania as tightly in legend as it did in reality, even a century after his last death. Though the countryside has long healed from the scars of his prior reign, those like yourself, too well acquainted with the occult, feel their phantom ache to this day. It is the pain that springs up with each scornful word and every hostile stare, the chafing knowledge that anyone judged slightly less than normal will never be truly safe from a populace still cowering from even the memory of Dracula's shadow.
Your gaze focuses once more at a sudden shuffling among the faceless worshipers: a parting of the shadow sea. From the darkest corner of the church a maiden is borne, light as spindrift, through the crests. Her dress is pale, and her panicked face is paler. She seems almost to shine amongst the shadows that guide her onward, a lone spot of white nearly consumed by the blackness of the church.
A sacrifice.
As she nears the grim idol that lies in wait upon the altar, one of the encircling shadows shoves her roughly forward. She stumbles against the altar's edge, delicate hands bound tightly behind her back.
You are forced to watch, powerless as always, as present and future slip beyond salvation.
Another shift of the lurking shadows. A fleeting flash of metal. A torrent of blood from the maiden's lovely neck.
As the blood splatters on the leering corpse below, its fanged grin seems only to widen. And with a creeping chill of dread, you realize the thing on the altar isn't a corpse anymore.
The church darkens even more, beyond what seems possible, as the sky through the ceiling is choked by thunderclouds. The candlelight drowns in a shadow sea.
For a moment, you see nothing but blissful darkness, blessed oblivion—for a moment, you can nearly imagine what a normal night's sleep might be.
By the time a flash of lightning illuminates the church once more, Dracula is already gone—the monster loosed from its temporal cage.
You barely notice. You'd seen it, then, when the lightning struck, in what little you could view of the world beyond the church. The outlines of a cityscape all too familiar. The narrow curve of a waning gibbous moon.
Jova. Easter Sunday.
You still have time, you realize.
And, fate willing, so do they.
iv. then
It had been Easter then, the time of the town's yearly carnival. Those dull brick buildings had looked almost inviting, festooned with grand banners and colorful paper lanterns, as lively dances and celebrations went on in the market square. The scenes of joy and community, the swirls of music and laughter, seemed to sweep you up despite yourself, almost softening the heart their world had hardened long before. You were hopeful enough to believe the Lord's Resurrection reason enough for them to accept you, for that one day at least, to heed your warning and save their souls.
You were wrong.
No matter who you approached, no matter how you pleaded, the hatred you'd grown up with, inseparable as your shadow, blocked you at every turn. Maybe it was your clothes, or your accent, or just the fact you knew something they didn't, but whatever attempt you made, they judged it to be wrong. Your warnings, increasingly desperate, were met with insults from even the kindest faces in that celebration, insults steeled with the threat of something worse.
Liar.
Witch.
Unholy.
Unwelcome.
You'd finally turned your back on Jova when the stares began to linger a little too long, when the murmurs in the crowd began to overpower even the sounds of the festivities. You refused to add your own life to the number that would soon be lost.
And you'd tried, dammit. They couldn't say you didn't try.
If their blood was to be shed, it would not be on your hands.
You told yourself this as you left them all behind, the music growing fainter and the colored lights dimmer with each step you took into the engulfing darkness. They'd just shown they cared nothing for you, for even themselves, so why chance your life for them? You didn't care—you truly didn't care.
But when your prophecy came true and hell came to earth, you suffered with them all the same.
#castlevania#simon belmont#castlevania 1#simon's quest#castlevania 2#my fanfiction#castlevania fanfiction#castlevania ii#castlevania i#fanfiction
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Maybe a small picnic or forest outing with Simon and Selena? Maybe he can teach her about some of the more harmless forest creatures 🥰
It's been nearly a month since Selena arrived at the Belmont estate in Transylvania, and met her arranged husband-to-be. She is expected to give an answer as to whether or not she consents to marry Simon.
Simon tries to talk her out of it.
They had a daily routine: after Simon’s hours-long morning training, he would get cleaned up, eat breakfast, and court Selena around the Belmont estate.
This routine would continue near daily, for the month’s duration of Selena’s visit to Transylvania. By the end of which she will need to come to a decision about whether or not she consents to proceeding with their arranged marriage.
It has nearly been a month now, and anxiety paralyzes Selena. She hardly knows Simon, even after spending time with him daily. But there is an urgency to their arrangement that weighs heavily on both: the time of Dracula’s calculated resurrection draws near. The Belmonts need an heir, and soon.
Despite that necessity, Selena has never felt pressured by Simon. Actually, she doesn’t know much of Simon’s feelings on the matter at all. He has been polite, certainly. Courteous, too. But he is incredibly private. Selena wonders, if she chooses to marry him, if she will ever learn about his true intent. What goes on in the mind of a man shouldering the burden of Dracula’s impending revival?
What kind of man will he become after they’re wed? Will he change from who is he now? For better, or for worse?
Or will he remain a perfect stranger—no love, no tenderness—as Selena is expected to spawn an heir for him?
Who can she expect to spend her life with if she consents to this union?
She battles the nausea that threatens her as Simon approaches, bowing his head to her in greeting. She curtsies in reply.
“Good morning, my lord.” Selena greets in her usual way.
Simon still isn’t used to being referred to as a lord. Selena can tell that much. But she cannot bring herself to call him by his first name. Not yet.
He gestures for her to walk ahead, and she does, starting on their usual route through the stamped out earth around the perimeter of the Belmont estate.
Courtship is awkward for both. Silence hangs heavy, as usual. Simon has done a terrible job of selling himself. He has not boasted about his accomplishments to earn her favor, nor tried so much as to kiss Selena’s hand.
A month isn’t enough time to truly get to know a person. Selena feels Simon’s resistance.
Sometimes, she wonders if he finds her undesirable. That would be a blessing—it may spare her yet of being wed to him.
But it is also humbling. Was she not to his taste?
Selena’s attention is pulled from her spiralling thoughts as Simon, at last, has asked something:
“I pray you slept well last night?”
Selena offers a polite smile in reply. “Yes, I slept peacefully. Your home is very comfortable.”
Simon hums to himself: a relieved, soft noise.
As they move through their usual path, Simon takes pause. He stares off beyond the gates of the estate, in the direction of the Jova woods.
After a moment, Simon takes the initiative in leading them off of their usual route, through the gates. Selena takes notice immediately.
“My lord?” Selena inquires, following dutifully after him. “Where is it we’re going?”
“The forest ahead,” Simon clarifies. “Rest assured, creatures of the night do not wander it during the day.”
He takes pause.
“Is that alright with you?” He asks, looking at her.
Selena has not stepped foot off of the Belmont estate for a month now. She longs for a change of scenery.
“Yes, of course. That would be nice.”
Simon grants her a small smile as they venture outside of the usual borders, and into the forest of Jova.
There’s a coolness in the air as shade washes over the pair. Selena remarks the sound of the leaves rustling in the wind, and the various woodland creatures within.
Serene moments like these make her forget of the malevolent creatures that stalk the area at night.
But remarking the scars on Simon’s arms quickly remind her of the very real threat. She notes how his hand rests on the handle of his whip at his side. He is still on alert.
She is safe with him, she supposes. He has proven his strength, and his dependability.
The pair slow to a stop at a clearing of forest. They linger there for a moment, before Simon spots a fallen log.
He moves to take a seat upon it, and gestures for Selena to join him. She does.
The adults sit in silence, enjoying the soundscape of the forest as minutes crawl on.
Selena was just beginning to relax, when Simon’s voice interjects the quiet:
“It has nearly been a month.”
Selena’s stomach knots. “Yes, my lord.”
She notes how Simon shifts, uncomfortable.
He continues, quieter: “the choice is yours to make. Please do not feel pressured.”
Selena doesn’t know how to reply to that. Is he expecting an answer now? Here?
“Thank you.” Selena tries, stilted. She is grateful to have the choice.
But she wonders something, as she pokes a fallen twig with the tip of her boot. Her eyes are downcast.
“Do you not have a choice as well?” She asks.
Simon doesn’t reply, and that only makes Selena feel worse.
She apologizes: “I beg your forgiveness if I am unworthy to be your wife.”
“My lady, that isn’t—“
She interrupts him: “Selena. Please.”
Oh, she shouldn’t have interrupted him. Selena feels the heat of embarrassment rise to her ears.
Simon tries, awkward: “Selena.”
She thinks it may be the first time he’s ever called her by her name. It evokes a strange feeling in her chest at the sound of it.
“That isn’t the case.” Simon assures.
Selena can hardly hear him as the thudding of her embarrassed heart deafens her.
“It is simply not my choice to make. It is yours alone.” He adds with careful emphasis.
“It is challenging to make such a choice.” Selena admits at last, wanting nothing more than for this exchange to be over.
Simon nods once with understanding. He looks away at nothing in particular.
The air hangs heavy as time crawls on.
Emboldened by their perfect privacy, concealed in the thick of forest, Selena pushes through her embarrassment to timidly ask: “if I may be candid, my lord?”
“Yes.” Simon replies.
She takes a moment to find the strength to admit: “I don’t feel I have a choice, even if you say I do.”
She doesn’t have to look at Simon to feel the consequences of her confession.
“I was selected into this arrangement as an asset to strengthen the Belmont line. Should I choose not to marry and conceive with you, then I would be burdened with the weight of having done nothing to stop Dracula when I had the chance to.”
Selena still can’t look at Simon as she concludes: “there is no choice.”
“The Belmont family will find a way, as my ancestors have,” Simon reassures, but Selena senses a tension in his reply.
With a certain firmness, he underlines: “do not let guilt influence you.”
Sensing that she has said too much, Selena makes herself small, bundling herself in her shawl. She glances to her side, remarking how Simon has transitioned his hands into his lap. He’s rubbing a thumb upon clasped hands as the silence builds.
It couldn’t really get any worse. Selena was at last being honest with him, and there is one question burning to be answered:
“Do you find me undesirable?”
Simon’s reply is immediate: “no.”
Oh.
It’s Simon’s turn to be honest now: “but like you, I feel the pressure of this union, and the necessity of its success.”
Selena lifts her head to look at him. Simon does not return the glance. He’s wringing his hands together, now.
Selena feels foolish for assuming otherwise: of course Simon would be just as impacted.
His life is on the line in this fight with darkness. If he dies during the battle, then…
There’s so much at stake. He shoulders it all alone.
“I beg your forgiveness, my lord.” Selena concedes, head bowing again. “We will share this burden.”
“Please don’t.” Simon tries, awkward. He worries that she’s only saying that out of pity.
“You have a choice.” He reminds, gentler. “Please, make the right choice.”
Selena processes his words. She feels how he shifts at her side, his hands transitioning onto his lap.
The choice is clear.
Selena moves her hand out from in front of her to land atop of Simon’s. She can feel him freeze under her touch.
“Selena,” he breathes, and it’s tinged with a resigned sadness.
She holds onto his hand.
Simon timidly returns the gesture.
Adults sit crushed by the weight of circumstance, comforted only by the calm of the forest, and the warmth of each other’s touch.
#oh my god i made this so sad i'm so sorry#pre-CV1 and pre-marriage#i hope it's a good read all the same aha#it was a great exercise for me to flesh out an idea i have for my fanfic#akumajou dracula#castlevania#simon belmont#selena belmont#selena (haunted castle)#haunted castle#selena (castlevania)#my writing
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Arrgh… my second Oculus Rift CV1 finally gave up the ghost. Man. Seriously considering just getting a used one, but all the listings I tend to find are like HEAVILY used ones. nnnno.
Some super-special factory calibrated acceleration/position/orientation type sensor is what went out on both Rift headsets. In fairness to the headsets they are clearly delicate pieces of equiplent that managed to last a LONG ass time.
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Simon Belmont for the character bingo. >:^) -SQ
(the design part is referred to his "blonde barbarian" design, which is my favorite design for Simon. I understand if you don't want to be friends anymore :P)
Simon is hard to describe because he's pretty much meant to be the prototypical Belmont. He's right in the middle of his dynasty, he had no Superpower of Teamwork™ to rely on, his fuckup was not as severe a Christopher's, and he lacks the drama that befell Leon, Juste and especially Richter. Dude's just the guy who stormed the castle, kicked Dracula's ass, then went through an RPG quest to kick his ass again. Boom, done. A cool guy without personality, one might say, limited by the fact that he had many many appearances but all in classic games light on plot.
But while CV1 is extremely straightforward with its story, I've learned to appreciate CV2's. Even if he never speaks, Simon showcases well his bravery in his thankless quest. He's actively dying, time is running out, many villagers don't even want to help him because they're afraid, but he still pushes on, focused on doing what he never thought he'd have to do.
And then, by the end of it, he's shown praying to Dracula's grave, which he might have made himself - who else would have bothered?
So like that, Simon is shown as an immensely compassionate individual. Not just a beast of a warrior, but noble and kind even towards those who didn't deserve it. And sure, he's definitely more idealized than Trevor and his brashness or Juste and his denial... but that's alright. Protagonists can be characters you can relate to, or look up to :)
#castlevania#akumajou dracula#simon belmont#oh and i must add i don't know much about grimoire of souls#so i might have missed details
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