#Hector Castlevania

[the-crow-binary]

Prompt: Hector sitting on Dracula's throne, while he keeps his Lord on a leash. Dracula is nothing but proud of his boy, of course :)

I had a few ideas and couldn't choose just one. So. Mwah. ❤️

[aquilaofarkham]

i hope the ghosts of isaac and hector haunt the shit out of the abbot after how he treated his own night creatures

[jason-todd-is-a-real-mood]

The way Castlevania nocturne also show how talented Isaac and hector were

You have this priest who spit on his values to summon a machine from hell to forge hell spawn but can’t do more than two at the time every 4 episodes while hector and Isaac were making them pop up like ads on illegal streaming websites !

[alucarddaily]

Official Castlevania artwork by Katie Silva

[dragologist]

ɪғ ɪ ᴡᴀs ᴀ ʙᴀᴅ ʙɪᴛᴄʜ

ɪ ᴡᴀɴɴᴀ ғᴋ ᴍᴇ ᴛᴏᴏ

~ ɴʟᴇ ᴄʜᴏᴘᴘᴀ

[pinkmirth]

❤︎ ⋆ ࣪ ˖ 𝒞𝐻ℰ𝑅𝑅𝒴-𝒫𝐼𝒞𝒦𝐼𝒩𝒢!

𝒮𝑌𝒩𝒪𝒫𝒮𝐼𝒮 ⨾ a little looksie into the castlevania men and their particular preferences . . . aka, the unavoidable “ass or tits” question!

𝒞𝒪𝒩𝒯𝒜𝐼𝒩𝒮 ⨾ ( 800+ words of . . . ) multi!castlevania men x fem!reader (black coded); adrian ‘alucard’ tepes, trevor belmont, richter belmont, isaac laforeze, hector forgemaster, count olrox, mizrak, & vlad ‘dracula’ tepes; missionary, doggy, mutual masturbation, thigh-fucking, bdsm (spanking), explicit language, lowercase intended, minors shoo!

𝑀𝒴 𝐿𝒪𝒱𝐸 𝐿𝐸𝒯𝒯𝐸ℛ! ⨾ yes, i am being trivial and shallow because it’s fun & that’s a good enough reason! inspired by this post here; i just had to whip up something for our favorite wallachian men >.< please enjoy, and thanks for reading! 🎀

𝒜𝐿𝑈𝒞𝒜𝑅𝒟!

it’s far too obvious, i think; but he loves. him. some. boobies! adrian’s a tits man through and through, even if he’s got too much decorum to admit it. his actions say it all, though— he loves to lick them, knead them, tease your nipples with his teeth, rest his head between them, gently cup either one whenever he’s embracing you from behind . . . he’ll even motorboat them if he’s feeling naughtier than usual. now, that’s all out of pure habit. intimately, though? slotting his twitchy cock between your boobs is surely his favorite; and then there’s those times when he’s got you laid upon your back while he's situated between your spread legs, fucking into you from above. his cold palms lie at your waist, grip going tight whenever you squeeze around his pulsing dick, and his golden eyes are stuck your breasts like it’s all they’re good for. the way they bounce and jiggle with his pace is nothing short of mesmerizing. coming all over them in the end will make him lose his fucking head. whether it’s an unaddressed mommy kink or otherwise, he just can’t get enough of you (and the girls!) let him suck your titties and his entire day is made.

𝒯𝑅𝐸𝒱𝑂𝑅!

ass. completely, absolutely, undeniably, ass. he’ll smack it, eat it, grope it, anything. trevor pinches your butt whenever he wants a rise out of you, just to see how much you’ll blow up at him. (he finds it cute, sue him!) and, smacks at it whenever you’re feeding him an attitude. if he starts grabbing at it with rough palms, you already know what he wants; to fuck your shit up. unexpectedly, doggy’s the first he’ll think to fold you into once you reach that bed. trevor curves over your arched frame, grinning at the ripple of your asscheeks against his pelvis. he’ll spit pure fucking venom into your ear while you take him. seals it off with coating your plump, pretty ass with his seed. the happiest man alive, he now is.

𝑅𝐼𝒞𝐻𝒯𝐸𝑅!

both! there are men out there who simply can’t bring themselves to choose, because both are far too precious; and richie’s one of them. how could you even expect him to pick? both parts of you are so soft, round, and feminine . . . if you allow him to get his hands on either, he wouldn’t mind in the slightest. this belmont’s skilled with his hands, might i add; his breast massages make you slump into him whine for more, and spankings don’t even feel like a punishment with him. as long as he can kiss down your body, mark the canvas of your flesh, and caress anything you’ve got in a pair of two, rich’s all yours.

𝐼𝒮𝒜𝒜𝒞!

thighs! it isn’t exactly a given option, but then again, this man isn't like the others. he loves the fullness of them, how warm to the touch they are whenever he rests a hand at your lap, and finds them to be the greatest pillow the entire world could offer. you stroking at his smooth scalp while he nudges his face into your thighs is his idea of paradise. speaking of, this man is king of thigh-fucking!!!! slots his cock in between the warmth of your inner thighs, urges you to keep them closed tight, and makes a mess of them by the time he’s done. his cum releases in streams, and spurts out to drip down your lap. but don’t worry, his tongue’s already out; as a gentleman, isaac always makes sure to clean up his messes.

𝐻𝐸𝒞𝒯𝒪ℛ!

tits! they’re perfectly squishy, which helps considering that he’s got loads of stress to rid himself of. one-finger less isn’t stopping him from giving the girls their much deserved attention! he’s slipping under your bra, brushing past your nipples, and kneading the mounds like he’s got nothing better to do. you know what’s his favorite thing to do with you and the girls? having you on your back with him kneeling above you, desperately tugging at his cock right before your face. you bring a hand down to swipe at your clit and match his pace; god, he swears you’re drooling. you suckle at his tip, and it’s enough stimulation to bring him to his peak. he’s then cumming all over your chest, some reaching your spit-streaked lips. has he ever mentioned how beautiful you look this way?

𝐵𝒪𝒩𝒰𝒮!

dracula simply adores thighs! a man of culture, this one is. as for olrox, he loves him some (man) titties. a nice, broad and firm chest is enough to put a smile on his face and a tent in his pants. then there’s mizrak, the ass-lover. grabbing it is his favorite past-time >.<

© 𝒫𝐼𝒩𝐾ℳ𝐼𝑅𝑇𝐻! ⸻ all rights reserved! do not steal, plagiarize or repost any of my works. please and thank you! 𝜗𝜚

[ineedmoretrevorcardcontent]

[beevean]

[jazzies-stuff]

Getting back into it

ft. my fave Hector expression in the whole series

[demigoddessqueens]

Headcanons about how would Alucard, Issac, Hector, Dracula, and Trevor react if their crush remembered something they said a long time ago please?

Aww!! I know they would be smitten

Trevor

He didn’t think most people listened to him (just wrote him off) but you remembering is a subtlety that feels weirdly intimate to him. A love language that shows “of course I remembered”

Alucard

Underneath that calm exterior is a worrywart who rambles at times so he was never expecting you to listen. Wrong! You listening to him is touching enough, and it gives his racing heart reassurance

Dracula

Given the slight overprotective nature, you heeding his words is more of repeating back the warnings he’s given. But you never throw them in his face with malice, only a calm understanding of the past he’s shared with you

Isaac

He’s a man of very few choice words, but when he catches on that you remember them, it deepens the bond already growing. You catch the slightest hint of a smile on his face

Hector

No one really paid much attention to him, and he admires you greatly for many reasons he would (love to) list out. Your remembering even the most nonchalant detail is sweet enough for him to stay close to/with you.

[raegunblastart]

Artist: RaeGunBlast

[aquilaofarkham]

[honest-moth-of-silver-grove]

Could we maybe get like snippets or blurb about Hector having a wife w/ him when he goes to join dracula’s generals? And maybe she’s really kind to dracula and then it turns out she’s pregnant and reminds him of his late wife? Does it change his plans or maybe he decides to protect her/hector more so than the other humans?

TW: Some Domestic Violence, Mentions of Pregnancy, Talks of Abortion 

It was a stormy, rainy night when a set of voices roused the young woman from her reading. For too long, she had a habit of getting lost in a text, be it fiction or fact, and losing herself to the words on the page, paying no mind to the reality around her. 

It had become an even more frequent habit now that she was banished from her previous life, her artisan skills not being needed as frequently in her new home as she would have liked. Then again, it was not the worst of fates. Had she stayed in her family home, her life would have most certainly been cut short. Here, she was safe. Here, she was… well… almost loved.

The man of the house, the one who agreed to let her stay, was a peculiar one. He appeared rather simple unless you spoke to him on certain subjects: necromancy and animals, his two favorites. 

His work was deviant. The young woman would go as far as to say it indubitably delved into the supernatural. Contrarily, it was his very association with the supernatural that drew her to him in the beginning. 

Hearing what sounded like an unfamiliar voice, the young woman closed the book she was reading and placed it on the small wooden table in front of her. Looking down fondly, she gave the sleeping reanimated cat in her lap a few gentle pets before scooping them up and moving them onto the bed. 

Yes, reinstilling the life of a dear feline friend may not seem worth a lifetime of isolation to some, but those simply did not understand the grand nature of the bond between cat and owner. The strange man of the house had brought her dear pet back to her, and despite what her fellow townspeople and own family thought, to her it was worth the duration of servitude she would no doubt be forced to continue in the man’s presence. 

Said man was not overly cruel, although he did have a fair temper. His understanding of certain situations was rather naive, yet wholesome all the same. 

As the two young people spent time near one another, the strange man and the young woman’s relationship grew. It blossomed from acquaintances to friends, and eventually to lovers, and understandably so. Their position to one another, in agreement with the man’s proximity to such strange magic, made it so they only had each other to rely on for interaction, for company, for… intimacy. 

Of course, their first few instances of sex left much to be desired, if the older village women’s stories were anything to go on, but it mattered not to her. The strange man was gentle. He never once made a move to force himself upon her. And despite the woman’s own lack of experience, he always assured her, he was quite pleased about her efforts to please him. As far as they were concerned, they were officially a marital couple. Although they did not share rings or papers officiating their status as such, their entwined futures were enough to reassure the other of their intentions. 

It certainly wasn’t the life the young woman had planned for herself as a little girl, but it was a life, therefore, it was good enough. 

Hector, as peculiar as he was, was good enough for her. 

And on the subject of Hector…

The young woman walked down the short corridor from their quaint shared bedroom to the main room of the house which Hector used for his rituals. It was very delicate magic, he once explained, so it could not be tampered with. The young woman didn’t mind. She came from a family of four, who all shared a single bed and a single rented room within a dwelling. Therefore, sharing a private bedroom within a private house with only one other person was very much a luxury, as far as she was concerned. 

“Hector? Is that you?” Her soft voice asked, clearly curious. “I thought I heard voices.” 

Appearing around the curve the young woman made her presence known, clothed in a simple muted dress, and old-yellowed apron. Her eyes were bright and clear, a direct contrast to the dark and dingy walls surrounding her person. Everything about her seemed too bright, too kind, too merciful to be inside the same home as a devil forgemaster, but there she was, clear as day. 

In front of her, Hector shifted, clearly apologetic about his new wife’s timing. Not more than two long strides from him stood Lord Dracula, the king of vampires, and Hector’s respected friend. Mere seconds before her arrival, Dracula had informed Hector about the death of his own, very human wife. 

Shuffling over to the young woman, Hector stood between the two strangers: his much older friend, and his new one, hoping to break some of the ambiguous unease between the two. 

“Master Dracula,” Hector addressed the towering vampire in the room, “This is (Y/N). She’s my-” 

“Friend” 

“Wife.” 

The young woman huffed, a slight blush rising to your cheeks. “Yes, ‘wife’, is what I meant to say. I’m, uh, still getting used to that,” she admitted bashfully.  

After looking into the unfriendly gaze of Hector’s guest, the woman lowered her head, trying desperately to shrink herself under the vampire’s irate aura. 

“I’m so sorry,” Hector repeated. “That you’ve lost your wife at a time when I’ve found mine.” 

The woman’s bright, curious eyes turned back up. “Lost?” 

“They killed her.” A deep, grave voice came from the behemoth of a man. “The stupid humans.” 

The woman’s face contorted as a wave of sorrow rushed over her. “I… I am so sorry. That’s awful.” 

Her condolences seemed to hang in the air, suffocating her more than the previous silence or Dracula’s gaze did. Taking the hint, the woman excused herself, retracing her steps back to the bedroom. 

“I apologize for the intrusion. I’ll leave the two of you alone.” 

━━◈◈◈━━

“I cannot believe you’re even considering this.” Already in their shared bed, the young woman lay there under the covers, her arms crossed defiantly. 

“I don’t see why you’re so upset.” Across the small room, Hector worked to scrub off the blood and muck from his arms with a rag and a bucket of salted water. “He says it’s going to be a cull, a reduction in numbers, that’s all.” Grabbing a second towel, he dabbed his arms dry before moving to join his wife in bed. 

“It’s genocide, Hector,” his wife spoke, her voice more urgent this time. “He is asking you to help commit genocide against your own people!” 

Hector scoffed, his brows furrowed. “My own people cast me out, treated me like filth, and now, you ask me to have mercy for them?” There was a venomous edge to his voice his wife had never heard before. 

Trying to rectify the conversation, the young woman swallowed harshly before continuing: “I know they were awful to you. I know they hurt you, and I know you didn’t deserve any of it.” 

Hector sighed as he lay down beside his wife. Soothingly, (Y/N) began massaging soft circles into his scalp, waiting for the man to fall deeper into relaxation. 

“I know you’re a good man Hector, and I am forever grateful for all that you’ve done for me. But this, this plan, it cannot end well. Not for you, not for me, not for anyone.” 

With a jolt, one of Hector’s hands shot out, latching onto his wife’s hand, abruptly stopping her massage efforts. “I don’t want to have this conversation again,” he sneered. “I am going to help Dracula with his plan, and you’ll have no choice but to come with me. I am your husband and you are my wife. That is all there’s to be said on the subject.” 

Just as suddenly as he grabbed her hand, Hector released it and turned over, facing away from his wife, before blowing out the last candle on their bedside table so the two of them could sleep. 

Frozen in shock, and unable to move, (Y/N) lay there on her back, afraid to even breathe heavily, lest Hector turn back over and speak such harsh words to her again. Her wrist stung where he squeezed it, and the position it landed in was anything but comfortable, but she dared not shift it. Laying there, concentrating on both the ache in her wrist and her breathing, the young woman stared up at the pitch-black ceiling over their shared home before the exhaustion was too much to bear, and sleep overcame her. 

━━◈◈◈━━

The move to the castle was silent. The young woman dared not speak lest she voice a contradictory opinion. Hector stayed silent as he simply had nothing else to say. 

Dracula’s castle was beyond daunting. The structure appeared as if it were plucked directly out of hell: dark, and foreboding, with jagged architecture that seemed to change within a blink of an eye. The entire building housed an almost unbearable energy- one of decimation and total grief. It did not feel like the birthplace of some grand war plan, it felt more like society’s tomb. 

Of course, (Y/N) could not say as much to her spouse, now that he was fully invested in aiding Dracula’s army. His forge was already set up within the castle, a molten hearth at the ready to create any instrument Hector would require in his efforts. 

A little week into their stay, Hector emerged victorious from his forge, claiming he had made a perfectly balanced hammer, a tool that would enable him to forge night creatures at an unprecedented rate. He boasted to a very proud, but equally concerned (Y/N), how so few devil forgemasters ever made it to this phase of power. 

Of course, his private proclamations made it all the more humorous when Isaac, another specially chosen devil forgemaster of Dracula showed up at the castle. Isaac, a much more stoic and disciplined man than Hector, used a blade, a red glowing dagger of sorts to create his night creatures. With a slice of the knife, Isaac could accomplish what it took Hector several hammer strikes to do. 

The young woman held her tongue but secretly relished the indignity Hector must have initially felt upon meeting his colleague. Then again, whatever victory she felt was short-lived, as she too got the impression that Isaac cared as equally little for her as he did Hector. 

Isaac became the least of her worries, however, when Dracula’s other generals and his vampire generals arrived one by one at his castle. 

Each time Dracula introduced Isaac and Hector as his devil forgemasters, and her as Hector’s wife, she felt their red eyes sizing the young woman up like a piece of meat. Thankfully, Dracula made it clear that his three human guests were not to be harmed, and his dominion over the vampire generals was enough to keep them away from her. 

Well, most of them anyway. Godbrand, a Viking vampire, was a different story entirely. 

“I still don’t get what you see in the guy,” Godbrand questioned as he followed her down one of the castle’s many corridors. “I mean, sure, he can make night creatures, but he’s not a fighter. Hell, he’s barely a man! With his heart bleeding for all those little mistreated pets of his.” 

She walked faster, doing her best not to spill the contents of the tray she was carrying. “Be that as it may,” she kept her voice curt, “Hector is my husband, and I am his wife. I made a promise.” 

“Promises can be broken. I mean, it’s,” Godbrand emphasized his ‘s’es in between his slurred-sounding words. “Ss’not like you’re really married. Hector brought back your dead cat, as this deformed creature. That’s not exactly a wedding ceremony.” 

The young woman rolled her eyes. “And what constitutes a marriage ritual where you’re from? A fight to the death?” 

Godbrand chuckled. “You know, you may be the first human I don’t find fucking boring.” 

The young woman grimaced, as she backed into a doorway, pushing open a heavy study door with her body. “Oh Godbrand,” she turned to enter the room, “If only I could say the same for you.” 

Letting the door shut softly behind her, she ignored Godbrand’s continued grumblings. She had much more important matters to tend to. 

Taking the two bowls of seeds off her tray, she placed them in new shallow dishes on her testing table. She then picked up the lidded cup, placing its cap to the side. She poured out a small amount of yellow liquid onto one of the bowls that contained new seeds as well as onto the bowl containing seeds from days before. 

Placing the now empty cup back down on the tray, the young woman sighed. The older seeds were indeed beginning to sprout from their dishes, and to make matters worse, her monthly cycle was late. On all fronts, the message was clear: she was with child. 

“Shit.” 

━━◈◈◈━━

The young woman took a deep breath before knocking gently on Dracula’s door. She knew it was foolish for her to approach the man herself, but she found she could not face Hector, not after she discovered the truth of her condition. If she were to even look Hector in the eyes at the present moment, she feared all her composure would shatter, leaving her a sorry, sobbing mess in his arms. 

Oh, his arms! How she longed to be in his arms once more. How she wished for a nighttime of conversation that used to follow their moments of shared pleasure. Now it was brief, still existent but wholly impersonal. The act was there, and all the motions were followed, but thanks to her line of continued questioning about Dracula and his intended efforts, Hector was often in no mood to sleep in the same bed as her, much less hold a conversation with her following a round of passion. 

It just had all unraveled so fast. 

It was on the anniversary of Dracula’s poor wife’s death when the first group of night creatures and vampire soldiers were released upon Targovieste. They spread out like a plague in the night, their howls hinting at what was only the beginning of all the unthinkable horrors they would unleash. 

Before she knew it, the words were coming out of her mouth faster than her mind could think them, her new hormones no doubt adding fuel to the fire. “Traitor!” She had called him. “A child believing himself to be God, punishing the sins of man!” 

In her fury, she could not control the veracity with which she spoke. The only thing that stopped her from berating Hector further was the sharp sting of an open palm slapped against her cheek. Stunned into silence and knocked to the ground, the young woman looked up at an equally shocked Hector through teary, blurred vision. 

“I…” Hector started, almost at as much of a loss for words as she was. “I am so sorry, I…” he trailed off. He couldn’t finish his apology. How could he? When he was uncertain as to whether he even meant it. 

Thankfully, Hector had the sense to leave his wife alone to wallow, and wail without his scrutiny, at the very least, allowing her the dignity to mourn the death of whatever they once shared, alone. 

The test she had run confirmed her worst fears shortly after that. There was no mistaking it. The man who had forsaken his own species, the man who she once loved, the man who struck her down, was going to be the father of her child. That was unless she decided to do something else about it. 

She knew Dracula himself possessed great knowledge. She also knew his late wife was a healer. No, even better, a doctor. Surely, she would have some collection of remedies and treatments on the subject. If she had heard correctly, Lisa Tepes was also a mother herself. 

Recalling that fact, she shuddered. The thought of housing a human baby made her insides crawl, she didn’t even wish to begin to imagine what carrying a half-vampire child to term must be like. Perhaps, she mused, Dracula would be willing to speak on the subject, barring that he didn't strike her down for her insolence first. 

“Master Dracula?” She asked as she pushed open the door to his study a sliver. “Permission to enter?” 

With a loud sigh, the older vampire relented. “Granted.” 

As the young woman entered, she was shocked to find such a large empty room. In the middle, sat Dracula in a large chair, and before him was a fireplace. Off to the side, there was a desk, with a portrait of the vampire lord’s late gorgeous wife above it. But aside from that, the room was sparsely decorated. It certainly did not feel like the study of a vampire lord. And in the middle of it all, sat a large, very disinterested, and downcast Master Dracula. 

“What is it now? Have you come to make your case on behalf of the rest of humanity? Beg me to spare their souls?” His words were serious but his tone was largely indifferent. 

“I see Hector’s spoken to you,” the young woman fiddled her fingers, shamefully. “ I must admit, my position has not changed. Nor has Hector’s. But no,” she settled for clasping her hands together, “That is not what I wish to speak to you about. 

Dracula raised a brow, telling her to carry on in her explanation. 

“I was wondering if you knew how I might go about procuring these items,” fishing out a parchment from her apron pocket, the young woman shakily extended her hand out to him. 

Taking the paper much gentler than she expected, the vampire lord began to read the written list himself, his expression remaining unreadable. “Birthwort, yarrow, barberry, honey, and yue?”

“Yes,” the young woman confirmed. “I wasn’t certain if you had any here. I understand your late wife was a physician and that she learned much of what she knew from you. I thought perhaps some of these herbs would already be gathered and dried in storage within the castle.” 

“Does Hector know?” Dracula finally turned his attention to the young woman as he asked. 

Caught red-handed, the young woman looked down to the floor as she shook her head, hot embarrassed tears gathering at the corners of her eyes. “No,” she finally admitted. “I cannot bring myself to tell him.” 

“You intend to keep this from him?” 

“Why?” The young woman spoke up, louder than before. “Do you think I am denying him his right to inheritance? That I am betraying my wifely duties if I do not consult him first?” 

“The decision concerns him as well.” 

“The hell it does!” The rage that had been brewing in her stomach all this time once again found its way to her throat. “It’s my body that will be forced to endure the changes. It’s my body that will risk its life in childbirth. It’s my heart…” She clutched her chest as she spoke, her angry tears now falling freely.  “...That will break when the child I have worked so hard to carry into this world is slaughtered right in front of me by a night creature of his own father’s making.” 

Breaking into silent sobs, the woman shook her head, condemning her outburst of emotion. 

From his chair Dracula said nothing. His irritation at her intrusion slowly faded away as he watched the formerly spirited young woman break down into tears. 

Dracula turned his gaze away, looking over to the portrait of his wife as he recalled how conflicted he felt upon learning Lisa was pregnant. Despite his wife’s optimism and joy, he could not help but feel afraid for what lay ahead. Dhampir pregnancies were uncommon, and highly dangerous, especially in cases where the mother was human. He would have been more than ready to aid Lisa in terminating the pregnancy had she asked, only she hadn’t. Just short of eight months later, Adrian was born. It might very well have been both the most terrifying and the most joyous day of Vlad’s immortal life. 

If Lisa was ever scared, she did not show it. Perhaps she knew she could not be scared, as Vlad would be fearful enough for the both of them. It was an entirely different situation than the one present before him now. Lisa and he were very much in love, and they had years of practice communicating with one another. Hector and his wife’s marriage was fresh. And in many ways, Hector was still a child, naive to the real world around him. 

Not to mention, Hector’s wife did have a point. Dracula intended to end the human race, as well as the vampire race. No humanoids would be left on the planet once he was done with it. That included Hector and her, as well as any future children they might manage to have. It was only a matter of time. Hector did not know that, but she did. Which is precisely why she came to him. 

How terrifying, he mused, it must have been to knock on his door and beg for an abortifacient, knowing full well he intended to kill all those like you sooner than later. How terrifying it must be to live in a castle surrounded by vampires, the undead, always hungry parasites, and have no choice but to hide behind an immature man who could not yet see the forest for the trees? 

Perhaps the great lord Dracula did feel a semblance of pity for the young woman, if only for a moment. 

On the far side of the study, the young woman managed to compose herself for the most part. She rubbed her eyes free of any tears and wiped her nose of any snot, only sniffling on occasion. “I apologize,” she began. “For my interruption and my… outburst.” 

Dracula said nothing as he slowly stood to his impressive full height, nearly reaching the ceiling of the room they were in. 

Suddenly struck by how close she was to such a powerful creature, the woman pushed herself against the farthest wall, trying to increase the space between her and the vampire lord. 

“Do you wish to have this child?” He asked her. 

“Only if I know they are never to suffer.” 

Dracula gave a dry chuckle at her response. 

Huffing, the woman smiled bashfully. “Yes, I suppose it sounds rather silly when said out loud. But it is the truth.” 

“Suffering,” Dracula began, “Is not unique to the human condition.” 

“Nor the vampire one I suppose.” 

Dracula’s eyes softened upon hearing her words. “No,” he finally agreed. “No, it is not.” 

The two of them stood suspended within the silence that followed for a great deal of time. Or rather, perhaps it merely felt like a great deal of time because it was one of the few sentences uttered out of pure unadulterated truth between them. Either way, neither of them moved. Neither of them spoke. They simply stood in each other’s company, occasionally making eye contact. 

Although she found she quite enjoyed the comfortable silence as opposed to the oppressive kind that seemed to consume her in her previous conversations with Dracula, the young woman still found she had a pressing question on her mind. As such, she was the one to eventually break the silence. 

 “Do you think Hector would make a good father?” The young woman enquired, feeling much more impervious in her position to ask questions. 

Dracula stayed silent. 

She nodded solemnly. “That’s what I thought.” Her move to leave was interrupted by the sound of a chair scraping against the wooden floor behind her. 

“Dracula, sir?” She asked through sniffles. 

“Come,” he said, leading her out of her office. “There is something I wish to show you.” 

━━◈◈◈━━

The castle was beyond enormous, there was no way around that. If one did not have a map of the grounds, or a guide to show them the way, it was amazingly simple to become lost in its maze of hallways and ever-changing corridors that seemed to spawn out of nowhere and vanish just as quickly as they came. It did not seem possible for a building to change and shift on its own, but, then again, it did not seem possible for a building to move from city to city in its entirety within the blink of an eye. 

For the most part, the castle had settled once Dracula’s vampire generals and their troops arrived. It would have been too complicated to educate them all on the shifting nature of the castle, so Dracula demanded it cease. Even with the castle’s internal architecture remaining consistent, navigating the halls remained challenging. Especially for the lesser intelligent vampire spawn and the easily overwhelmed human partner of a devil forgemaster. 

Dracula watched from the corridor as the young woman flitted about the apothecary room, taking breaks in between her searching various cabinets to look down at notes that no doubt once belonged to his wife. Lisa was always interested in aiding the other women of Wallachia, and she had a fondness for the maternal edge of medicine. Briefly, Dracula recalled the first time he had shown Lisa this room. Admittedly, Lisa’s reaction was quite similar to the one Hector’s wife was having now: full of not just awe, but determination as well. As it had mostly been frequented by his late wife during her time within the castle, it had been left alone to gather dust and cobwebs for the past several years or so. Still, if there was any lab or apothecary within Dracula’s home that had the processed herbs she was looking for, it was this particular room. 

He led Hector’s wife there after their previous encounter, granting her his permission to take anything she found that she’d need. It was uncharacteristically generous of him to offer, but it did not make the young woman as pleased as she thought she’d be. This was what she wanted, right? To be rid of this child? Or was it possible she wished for something else? 

Bitterly, Dracula knew it was not the child, but the circumstances, the young woman was considering aborting. She could not promise them a future, much less any degree of safety, so she was ending things before the pain became too great to do so. It was odd. The argument could be made that she was acting out of self-preservation, then again, it sounded as if the young woman knew her death was already imminent. To end this child’s life before it began was not an act of selfishness on her part, but an act of mercy. Despite the grief Dracula could see it caused her, this young woman was determined to prevent her child from seeing the horrors the world, his world, was capable of producing. It was selfless. It… It did not make sense. 

Humans were selfish creatures, greedy, and cruel for sport. They thought only of themselves and anyone who dared show kindness or intelligence was cast out or killed. They did not deserve the teachings of his wife, who worked so hard to provide for their ill. They did not deserve Wallachia, nor did they deserve any part of the world. Their species was a plague, a never-ending mistake. They would not learn even if he gave them centuries more. They had to go and yet… 

Before the last sunset, Dracula would not have cared how the humans suffered and died. Nor did he care about the vampires, who would inevitably turn on each other, once they were finally faced with starvation. All that mattered was their death- all of their deaths. 

Then why was it that Lord Vlad Dracula Tepes could not think of anything but birth? 

He had shown Hector’s wife what she asked for, he had given her the materials needed to prevent such a birth. Granted, it was what she had asked for. One favor for a selfless thing. 

Perhaps… a long-since silent voice of reason in the back of Dracula’s mind spoke up… Perhaps there is hope for humanity yet? Maybe the good few, the intelligent, the brave, and the honorable could be… salvaged from this genocide? Perhaps what was needed was a true cull after all? 

Seated once again in his study, Dracula gazed into the flames of the fireplace. He would need to make plans to speak with all his Generals tomorrow. 

The war, as they knew it, was about to change. 

A/N: Ahhhh! Why is it so longgggg? Forgive me for getting carried away. But to answer your question, I do think there’s a sliver of hope Dracula would be swayed not to stop or anything, but maybe to shift his plans to allow a select, approved few humans to survive. No idea how’d that’d be implemented or how the Generals would respond (prob not well lol.) But that’s sort of my line of thinking. I also believe he’d be even more encouraging for Hector and Isacc to become friends. For Sources, check out these super cool links: Medieval ‘Pregnancy Tests’: (x) And this really cool on medieval abortion/menstruation remedies: (x) And As always, if you liked it, please REBLOG! 

And please consider donating to my Kofi!

[alucarddaily]

Alternate character designs from Castlevania: The Art of The Animated Series

[edude-makes-comics]

And so my friends, our grand adventure comes to an end.

For now at least.

[pinkmirth]

What kinks do you think each Castlevania man would have? Asking for a science project

⸻ WANT & NEEDS!

MY LOVE NOTE! 𝜗𝜚 ₊ ⊹ oooh, kinks you say? >< glad you asked, nonnie! for scientific purposes only, of course . . .

CONTAINS . . . 𝜗𝜚 ₊ ⊹ multi castlevania men x fem!reader (black coded); adrian ‘alucard’ tepes, trevor belmont, richter belmont, hector forgemaster, isaac forgemaster, & vlad ‘dracula’ tepes; praise, body worship, breeding, power play (dom/sub), edging, bdsm (flogging), explicit language, lowercase intended, not proofread (apologies for any typos!), minors shoo!

ALUCARD!

praise • he wants— no, needs to hear the effect he has on you. is he doing well? do you want it faster? are these brittle-cold hands of his any good at handling your body? it’s all he wants; to hear those sweet, sweet words tumble from your lips and grace his ears. words of affirmation is what adrian holds onto dearly. tell him you love him, just voice it out through a whisper, and he’ll melt into you with the loudest moan you’ve ever pried from him. his sounds will heighten, pace increased with a surge of fervor, a fueled drive to please you. yes, he likes being sweet-talked when it’s coming from his beloved. flatter him a bit, and he’ll surely give you a night to remember.

oh my god i’m so sorry but I’m adding another for my favorite man; body worship! • adrian is all about devotion. once he’s invested in anything, in you, he pours in everything he has to offer. alucard doesn’t take it lightly; you trusting him enough to be so vulnerable as to getting intimate with him. unclothing with him. touching yourself before him. joining your body with his own . . . letting his cock press its way into your tight, delicate entrance. it’s an honor, and he sees it as such. his lips never leave your skin, kissing along your neck as he rolls his hips into you, fucking deep into your warmth. ‘thank you,’ he whimpers, tone low but light as a whisper, ‘thank you, my love . . .’ his hands, big and cold, trail along your hips, against your tummy, around your ass, anywhere he can grace with his cool touch. he likes when you voice your approval of him, but loves to praise you all the more.

TREVOR!

breeding • there’s no denying; it took this man no time at all to get sypha pregnant! and god, if that doesn’t convince you, than nothing else can. he fucks with reckless abandon, and finishes inside as it’s his favorite place to do so. he’ll keep you stuffed with him, cock pulsing from within you as he uses your pliant womb to empty his fat balls of the last spurt of his thick, potent cum. there’s a dopey grin he carries knowing that he’s thoroughly fucked a baby into you. perhaps he isn’t destined to be the only remaining survivor of the house of belmont, after all.

RICHTER!

flogging • he doesn’t like to punish you. no, not at all. but seemingly, you quite enjoy receiving it. when you’re working up a fit just to gauge his reaction, richter knows what to do. the unnecessary attitude, sharp mouth, huffy noises— you just want to be spanked. and so, he throws you over his lap, bunches up the frilly layers of your skirt, and allows his handheld flogging toy, purchased for moments like these, to fall upon the jiggling flesh of your round ass. you moan from the pain, and his cock throbs from beneath his trousers. again, it lashes against your bum and the contact makes you jolt in his lap, trembling over his thighs and dripping all over his flogger toy. it’s almost . . . beautiful, watching the sting of pleasure bloom into a faint, lasting red on your supple skin.

HECTOR!

power play • he may be on top, but you’re holding onto the reins. telling him to slow down, speed up, drive into you deeper; it’s all up to you. and oh, is he quick to listen. he’s a pretty little thing— handsome, intelligent, obedient. he aims for your pleasure much more than his own, sneaking beneath layers of fabric to eat you out, determined to make you cum from the swipe of his tongue alone. he isn’t just doing it because you asked, no. he likes the tug of your fingers weaves through his hair, pushing his face further into your dripping cunt. he likes to be used, to be lead, to feel no regret for being vulnerable. you’re sure of what you want from hector and find no shame in demanding for more, blessing him with the direction he so desperately needs.

ISAAC!

edging • isaac simply likes the control it gives, and who is he to turn away from exercising the art of pure discipline? he feels you fluttering around him, sounds growing pitchier as you try and fuck yourself on his cock. it’s easy for him to keep you still in this angle, as he’s kneeling above you and you’re laid on your back, peering up at him with lust-blown eyes and the most desperate expression he’s ever come across. a large hand of his grabs your face, and sternly. his thrusts come to a stop. to that, you whine, but he doesn’t fucking care. you’ll learn some self-control, he’ll make sure of it; even if he’s stuffed you full and the dick has you going brainless.

DRACULA!

soft sex • dare i say this man is vanilla as fuck? he just wants to please, and coddles you throughout it all with his imposing frame. he makes up for his cold touch with the safety and experience his large hands have to offer. vlad craves pure intimacy; nothing extreme, just pure bliss.