alucard – good old fashioned lover boy

masterlist|song|apologies, this isn’t really good >:/

• alucard has never been in love but it’s all changed after meeting you. the vampire has never felt so alive. for the first time he thinks that it’s meant to be. the reckless vampire was not so reckless anymore.
• the way you collapse in his arms, he can’t help but chuckle and gently sway as he hums an old song that he remembers from his time as a human, the world blurring as time seems to go by soslowly.
• the amount of times he’s given you a jump scare to hear your heart race,, and how he laughs every time you fake–threaten him.
• anytime sir integra sends him on a mission, his mind can’t help but drift towards you. how his name sounds coming from your lips, how your eyes glitter and oh, your killer smile.
• his favorite is taking you to the restaurant nearby, watching you drink the wine while he asks the live band to play some music so the two of you can dance,, and he finds himself lost in the moment.
• your voice snaps him out of it, he’s ready to take you back home. he’s so in love with you, he feels like a puppy or maybe he’s just your good old fashioned lover boy.

alucard – monster by beth crowley

masterlist|song

• the years have blurred together for alucard, he’s doing anything he can to feel alive, to feel human. but he knows, he was treated less than one and it’s what he has become. the vampire is nothing but a killing machine, blood is what he came from and it’s what’s left afterwards.
• he leaves the Hellsing manor at night to hunt,tokill,and it feels like he’s left a part of himself there. and he wants it to stop so desperately, but he’s knee deep into this. he’s a killer. nothing more or nothing less.
• he looks fine with the grin on his face, but he’s slipping into delirium. the days are all the same, senseless.Yet the words can’t seem to escape his mouth. how can he tell you? how can he tell you that he’s not the same anymore? how can he tell you the truth? won’t you hate him for it?
• he’s merciless in his ways. he’ll kill you and he knows it. he knows he’s turning into a monster, right before your eyes. only one of you can get out alive.

[a week with alucard]

slight n//s//f//w mention

super long ✊

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≫ monday ≪

monday mornings are slow, wrapped up in big blankets and slow kisses. his arms draped around you, holding you close to his chest as the sun made its way through the slight opening in the velvet curtains. he smiled watching you stand to your feet, the pale sheet draped around your body, your hands moving through your hair as you yawned and stretched.

mondays are designated for planning; what ingredients you needed, what sick people to visit, what experiments to try out, what rooms needed cleaning or building. His eyebrows furrowed as he poured over plans and schedules, his hand interlaced with yours as you looked over his shoulders and made suggestions.

mondays are for sunday’s leftovers. simple, cold meals enjoyed together under the summer sun or beside a winter furnace. Talking about the conclusions you reached earlier, making final tweaks and enjoying each other’s company. Every now and again, a letter would arrive from his former companions and he would lay his head in your lap and ask you to read it to him.

monday evenings are filled with fleeting kisses and a tight embrace, fangs tauntingly tracing the skin of your neck and your nails pressed to the skin of his back. Easing into the mattress engulfed entirely by him, falling asleep wrapped within each other.

≫ tuesday ≪

tuesdays start early, no time to waste in waiting for the sun to peek through the curtains. Mornings filled by groggy remarks and sulking yawns, shivering in the early wind and making idle conversation with the horses. He’s quiet, helping you into the little “carriage”, pressing a kiss to the top of your forehead before setting off. He was much too careful to let you go by yourself, too weary of humans to bother trusting them around his one treasure.

tuesdays are for wandering through the bustling marketplace, haggling for the best price possible. It was one of his favourite things to do; watch you wear down the merchant until getting a fairer price, there was no stopping you once you set your eyes on something. He would wander off around midday, look for something out of the ordinary while you haggled away, every tuesday he wanted to get you something new, something unique. this tuesday was a miniature stained glass, hand painted and designed to be worn as a necklace.

tuesday evenings are for quiet rides home, fingers clasped around the new gift and head resting comfortably on his shoulder as you headed home. The road was bumpy and the air chilly. The comfortable quiet broken only by the sounds of nature around you. His embrace is warm as he carries you off the wagon and into the castle, ever so gentle as he places you down on the bed, smiling when you pull him near and press your lips to him in silent gratitude.

≫ wednesday ≪

wednesday is spent resting once more, not for too long, no time to lounge like there is on monday. There is time however to clamber on your lover’s chest and press your lips to his forehead, his cheeks, his eyes and his jawline, smiling at his attempt to feign being asleep. He pulls you in when you pull away and runs his hands up your body, feeling your warmth on his fingers as he lets out a sigh. Good mornings are exchanged in the entangling of bodies and laboured breaths.

wednesdays are spent back in the village, more specifically in the little cottage the two of you turned into a makeshift clinic. The bottles of medicine clattered in the back of the wagon as you rushed down the country road. the line was already sizeable by the time you arrived. He helped out mainly with the children and you adored watching him play with them. His tone was patient and his expression peaceful, you wished he could be like always. the villagers were grateful, giving from what little they had to make your lunch there filling.

in the evening, you made him pull over, noting a rare medicinal herb in the grass. Grinning, you pulled it into your pouch. Looking at him, you noted him staring “what’s wrong?” to which he answered by lifting you into his arms and peppering your face with kisses, murmuring over and over how much he loved and cherished you. Your face was warm, pulling him down in the grass on top of you. The ground was cold underneath your back but his skin was hot as he pressed against you. His head dipping between your legs and your fingers tangling in his hair.

≫ thursday ≪

thursday is for enjoying the nature around you. morning started before the sun awakened, feeling the cold nip at every bit of exposed skin, watching your lover smile at the baby birds he had been taking care of and looking simply at ease with himself. You grin and press the palm of his hand to your lips, shrugging when he asks what that was for “you look happy,” you remarked offhandedly, moving through the bushes

you picked medicinal and cooking herbs in the open field while he went through the trees to hunt for what would make your dinner. you spread out the light food you brought with you while you waited, lounging in the afternoon sun and feeling it warm your skin. You laughed when you felt his arms wrap around you, turning to press a kiss to the top of his head. the rest of the afternoon was spent with your head in his lap as he read quietly.

as the sun went down, he helped clear up. the hunt was unsuccessful so the soup from earlier would have to suffice. He carried the basket for you and the walk home was spent making idle conversation about whatever novel the two of you were reading.

≫ friday ≪

fridays are for enjoying each other’s presence; starting with a barrage of kisses all over his face to which he would respond by pulling you underneath him with a grin, pushing his head in the crook of your neck. He could feel your skin against his and he wanted to hold you even closer, breathe in your scent and litter your entire body with his affection. Your hand through his hair made him groan and the whimpers passing through your lips made him praise you.

fridays are for experiments and learning; spending your days indulging in whatever has caught either of your attention for the time being. He was looking into more effective irrigation systems for the village fields while you looked into getting the castle’s magic teleportation up and running once again. Little breaks would be taken here and there, sometimes he’d go down into the basement and linger in the doorway, watching you at work, eyebrows furrowed as you tried putting the puzzle pieces together.

evenings are spent eating whatever the villagers had given you a couple of days earlier, discussing findings and asking the other’s opinion or advice. He listened intently, smiling at the ways your eyes practically glistened when you made a discovery. The nights were quiet, spent in each other’s embrace, falling asleep to the sound of each other’s soft breathing.

≫ weekend ≪

Weekends are spent lounging around, sleeping in and indulging in creative projects, dusting and cleaning the important rooms of the castle. They’re spent paying your respects to his late parents, placing your hand in his as he looks at the paintings of his father and mother. He’s silent, sometimes tears and apologies mix together and you have to hold him. You remain quiet as he trembles in your arms, kissing the back of his hands and assuring him you’re there for support.

And he kisses you, thanks you and places his head on top of yours. You bury your face in his chest and assure him he’ll always have you right there beside you. But as the years go by, you’re not sure just how much longer you’ll be able to keep your promise.