#nocturnal writings

[satelliteduster]

oh my god i forgot to post my absolute favorite strip from gay comix (issue #2, 1981)

[nocturnalghoul]

Echoes

I once again had thoughts about Dew, Mountain, and Aether’s closeness, had to write it, and got lightly angsty (to nobody’s surprise I am sure). A short little piece where Aether attempts to play peacekeeper between the two and ruminates on their differences as well as how people continue on when you aren’t paying attention. 

Words: ~1.2k

Rating: General

Below the cut for scrolling purposes

Aether still has no idea what Dew and Mountain had been fighting about for the past few days to have them both so riled up. All he knows is that they both are past a point of simply talking things out themselves, and that the other ghouls are weirdly refusing to get involved. 

It can be easy to overlook how fundamentally different the two ghouls are given their closeness, but the events of the last week have been a perfect example. The way that the two ghouls handle upsetting events could not be more different. Dew has always been quick to get riled up, but also to push past everything, like a steam venting to relieve pressure. Mountain on the other hand has a slow temper, but once he is angry it's a much larger and longer lasting event.

Aether can tell that they are at a halfway point between how they handle their emotions. Dew is no longer boiling over with rage at the situation and beginning to cool down, and Mountain’s frustrations are still on an incline but not beyond the point of no return. Seeing them pretend to ignore each other in the kitchen early one morning, long before any other ghouls are likely to awake, seems like as good of a time as any. At least he knows the three of them won’t be interrupted.

“I don’t know why you two are so upset, but I can’t stand to see it anymore. We are going to talk about it, and if I have to pull the ‘everything we’ve been through together’ card I will” Aether states calmly, pulling out two chairs at the large kitchen table before finding his own preferred seat. 

“It’s fine Aether” they both grumble in unison, shooting each other an annoyed look afterwards. 

 “Clearly it’s not. Dew, you have been in your ‘lonely wanderer clothes’ since this began and Mountain, you have that careful sorrow to your voice that only comes out before you go apeshit. Talk.” 

One detriment to knowing somebody so well is that they know you as deeply in return. The two ghouls both know that he is right, and that he understands exactly what these minor details mean. They both slowly slink towards the open chairs on either side of him and settle in. 

Aether waits patiently for one of them to begin as they clearly try and fail to not look accusatory towards one another. Finally, Mountain breaks the silence with a vague statement about how Dew has to know why he is upset, which the fire ghoul shrugs off like a feather, responding with an odd statement about the weather. 

As much as Aether truly wants them to work it out amongst themselves, only using him for a moderator if they need one, it quickly becomes apparent that the two refuse to accomplish anything. 

“Please you two, if you don’t want to resolve this for your own sakes then at least try for me. You giving it a fair shot is all I’m asking for.” Aether eventually contributes.

“What even is the use of all this Aeth? Let us just be mad at each other for a week or two and then eventually it will be like it didn’t happen. That’s what always happens.” Dew grumbles.

“Yeah, I know you love us and want to help, but it’s not your duty to try and fix it.” Mountain tacks on. 

At least with their irritation pointed at himself, the two ghouls seem to marginally forget about their frustration at one another. Mountain’s comment however gives him a welcome hint that whatever happened is not as trivial as he originally thought. 

“Oh trust me this intervention is for selfish reasons.” Aether interjects before Mountain can go on a whole long winded thing about matters they all have hashed out time and time again. “With the touring I don’t get to see you two as much as I would like anymore. Forgive me for wanting to actually have the little time I can spend with you two include you both and actually be pleasant.”

Dew and Mountain shoot each other a peculiar look across the table that he can’t quite place. It’s almost familiar, like a song heard years ago, but he is at a loss to its meaning. It’s weird, normally Aether could interpret the meaning of either of their looks without even thinking about it. He knows the two of them better than he probably knows himself. 

Soon a flood of unwelcome thoughts of them forgetting all about the bond they share and him being left behind in the dust start to storm his mind. He knows it’s only a look, but unexpected development is shaking him nonetheless for reasons he can't place.

“I don’t want you guys to slip away is all” he tacks on weakly, silently cursing the slight tremble evident in his voice. He thought he was doing this for them, to mend the gap between the two ghouls, however he can’t help but feel like he has stumbled into a chasm between them and himself as well. 

“You could never get rid of either of us even if you wanted to.” one of them declares. Aether is too busy focusing on the sudden grip of both of them launching from each side to pull him into a hug. 

If Aether had known that sharing his own minor insecurities that manifested from missing them would have helped the two ghouls get along he would have done so sooner. That of course would mean he would have had to actually acknowledge how he was feeling about it all before now though, so maybe this morning was still the quickest course of action. 

“I’m not going to give the details because it was originally about something for you that we still want to be a surprise, but I think both of us would agree that we let the argument get blown way out of proportion and become much more personal than it needed to be.” Mountain explains softly.

Aether feels Dew’s hair tickling his arm as the fire ghoul nods. “He’s right, give us the day to work it out amongst ourselves, but I promise that Mountain and I will take a walk along the good trail and talk it out okay? Without a doubt I can say that we both miss you more than words can say. As long as Mount is okay with it, I would love to meet up in my room after dinner tonight to catch up, just the three of us.”

Aether takes the bright smile finally gracing the earth ghouls face once again as the enthusiastic agreement it is. As he watches Mountain walk off to get trail snacks and Dew shambling to his room to change, he feels a little of their balance click back into place. 

No matter how much time moves along the three of them will always have one another to lean on.

[milkywaydrabbles]

21 from kinktober list with alucard 👀 I can see him and fem reader trying to seduce trevor and sypha into their bed… perhaps greta can join too 😏

A/N: This was such a daunting request I didn't know if I'd be able to do it or not tbh but IT'S HERE!!! This is a little bit of a monster but I hope you like it, I put blood sweat and tears into this req for you MWUAH

Threesome or Moresome x Alucard, Trevor, Sypha

“Honey, just think about it.”

“This is embarrassing, absolutely not.”

“Adrian, you don’t think I didn’t see how you used to look at them? Before really being with me?” 

That stopped him in his tracks.

Alucard thought he was so good and hiding his face, his glances, his pout whenever he saw how the two doted on each other. But he wore his heart on his sleeve, and you could see right through him.

“I love you, dearly, and I know you love me.” You sighed into his hair, pressing a kiss to his temple. “But if you want this, I’ll indulge. I’ll even bring it up first, if you’d like.” You reassured, feeling his arms tighten around you. “I don’t want you to feel like you’re not enough for me, darling..” You held his chin, moving it to make him look up at you, eyes full of love and affection. “I know I’m enough for you, my love. But let yourself enjoy this. If they say no, well that’s that. But what if they say yes?”

Alucard groaned, blush covering his face. 

“Fine. We’ll ask.”

-

“You know, you really outdo yourself with dinner every time, really, but the wine is still outmatched.” Sypha slaps a hand on Trevor’s chest, looking over as if to say ‘what?’ while you cackled a laugh, and Alucard sighed, fingers pinching at the bridge of his nose. He can’t believe he’s actually fantasized about this. “Dinner is delicious as usual.” Sypha interjected, the four of you now lounging in the grand living room. The castle was quite gorgeous, after all this time of you and Alucard both working at it to become a home once again. They still didn’t know how you of all people stuck around with him. (Well, Sypha understood, mostly Trevor being a dick.) You fought valiantly by their side, holding your own as a witch in their midsts. They were sure you’d go on your own to continue fighting the masses. Instead, you stayed--and built a life with Alucard. Hell, you even called him Adrian. (It warmed his heart that his name would still be remembered.) 

“Thank you, Sypha, as for the wine, you should really be thanking Adrian, Belmont. He knows how to source a good red.” You winked over at him, seeing his pale skin turn ablaze with crimson. “Ah, right, thank you Adrian.” You knew Trevor was simply teasing, but it gave you a glimpse of hope when the brunette winked at your lover the same way you did. His stomach flipped, palms sweating as he steeled himself for you to bring up probably the most embarrassing request he could imagine. 

Even more embarrassing when he was caught with makeshift dolls of the couple in his kitchen.

“Actually, Trevor, Sypha. We have...a proposal. For the two of you.” the Speaker’s interest piqued, cocking a brow.  You looked over to Alucard, taking his hand in yours and rubbing soothing circles into his palm. “Alright? Out with it already.” Belmont was impatient as always. You glanced at him once more, making sure he was still okay with the interest. And when you saw him nod, you continued.

“We’d like to sleep with you, both.”

You could hear a pin fall with how the silence cut through the air of the castle. You looked perfectly calm, smiling at the couple across from you that couldn’t quite believe what they were hearing. In reality you were scared to death. You didn’t want to be the one to bring it up, but Alucard had whispered his desires to you in the comfort of your bed, after taking you over and over again one night. How were you ever supposed to say no to him? Besides, it’s not like you hadn’t thought of it yourself after he brought it up. 

Sypha was the first to break the silence, tapping on Trevor’s jaw to have him close his fucking mouth. “Ah--” She cleared her throat, before starting again. “That was ah, quite the joke you two!” She nervously laughed, hoping you’d eventually crack your facade. You didn’t. “Not a joke Sypha, right Adrian?” You looked over at your lover, whose face was still flushed. “We’ve ah....discussed, inviting you to our bed before, if you were comfortable.” Trevor snorted a laugh. “Always knew you wanted me--the muscles usually do it.” He flexed an arm, now it was your turn to slap at him, before laying your hand a bit too close to his crotch, released Alucard’s hand and mirroring on Sypha’s lap. “You can take your time to think about it, you can say no right now...but the offer is there.” The two looked at each other, hearts racing as they took you up on your offer.

-

The four of you sat on your shared bed, large enough to comfortably fit you all. The two were hesitant, you can tell, which meant you would have to lead the way until everyone was comfortable. You gently held onto Sypha’s hand, pulling her towards you close enough to caress her face with your other hand. “Tell me to stop if you ever feel uncomfortable..” You whispered, watching her glance down at your lips with parted mouth, nodding once before meeting you in a soft kiss. You heard a faint gasp, not sure which male it’s coming from. You ignore it either way, angling her face towards you to deepen the kiss, hand on her face moving to run your fingers through her hair, gripping the back of her head. “Fuck.” Trevor’s deep voice rumbled through you, feeling his breath tickle at your neck. He kissed your skin, hands slowly exploring your body from behind as you continued with Sypha, biting at her lip asking for permission to go further. The speaker opened her mouth, letting you explore her mouth with your tongue, licking at her teeth and tongue. She gasped when feeling a new presence behind her, Alucard’s hands grasping at her chest through her clothes, fangs scraping at her neck. You detached yourself from her to take in the sight before you: Alucard kissing and suckling bites into Sypha’s neck, her hand reaching back to grip at his blonde tresses, mouth hanging open and already panting. 

It made you so wet looking at them. You kissed the other side of her neck while Trevor started groping you, hands moving up and down your body, even rubbing at your clothed pussy for a moment before moving back up. You moaned, looking up at Sypha and Alucard sharing a heated kiss, his hand covering her throat. You were pulled back. “I don’t know how I feel about him kissing my wife like that..” The Belmont mumbled, and with a snicker you turned to look at him, both hands running through his silky hair. “Then why don’t you kiss his wife like that?” You challenge, immediately being pressed closer to him with a moan. Your shared kiss with Trevor wasn’t as soft, not like a woman’s touch--it was all tongue and teeth, his hands gripping at you and moving to take your clothes off as quickly as possible. You couldn’t help but giggle, looking back to see Alucard doing the same to Sypha. You shared a look with him, making sure you were both still on the same page. A hand shot out,gripping at your jaw and turning your head. “Look at me, beautiful. Wanna be in on the fun.” Fuck. You understood why your sweet and charming husband looked at Belmont with lust in his eyes. You palmed at his crotch, Trevor hissing into your mouth and bucking into your hand. “Take these off, Trevor..” You mumbled against his lips, feeling entirely too exposed in comparison to him. Throwing caution to the wind Trevor discarded his clothes quickly, latching himself back onto you. You trailed your kisses down his body, across his strong chest, chiseled abs, making sure to lick over all the scars that littered his body on the way down. You gave special treatment around his adonis belt, licking his happy trail along the way. “Fuck, Alucard you never said your wife was insatiable.” He joked, though his laughter came out shakier than he intended it to. 

“Same could be said to you.” He mumbled against Sypha’s skin, who was writhing underneath him already. He was kissing and biting at her hips, trailing his tongue and fangs to the inside of her thighs, exposed cunt near his face. Sypha leaned up on her forearms, watching his every move with baited breath, letting out soft whimpers each time he bit down on a particularly sensitive spot on her thighs. She wanted to complain, wanted to beg him to stop teasing her the way she would have with Trevor--but when he peaked up through his long lashes and those beautiful hues looked at her, well, she couldn’t help but let him continue at an excruciatingly slow pace. One of his hands trailed up her body, groping and pinching at her tit and nipple, pulling the hard bud here and there in between. Sypha moaned, opening her legs up more for him and bucking up, in hopes he would move faster to where she wanted it. He clicked his tongue once, before licking a stripe up her pussy. “So impatient..” He whispered against her, other arm wrapping around underneath her thigh and pulling her flush against his face, lapping up her juices as she squirmed above him. “Oh, fuck.” Sypha fell against the bed, both hands tugging at Alucard’s hair as he moved to fuck her on his tongue. No matter how eloquent the man seemed, Alucard ate pussy like a man starved. And he had been wanting her for so long, lusting after the couple from the moment they met. He wouldn’t let her go dissatisfied. 

Trevor couldn’t help but look at the sight before him: his friend going down on his wife that was writhing in pleasure underneath him. He wanted to feel a pang of jealousy, really he did, but he was so turned on it made his dick jump. He heard you giggle underneath him, licking from the tip of his cock down to his balls. A hand slowly pumped him as he bit back a moan, swallowing hard as you continued to tease and kiss at his dick. “They look good, don’t they?” You commented on the couple next to you, mouthing at the length before engulfing his cock into your mouth, sucking and spitting it. Trevor shuddered a breath, bucking his hips deeper into your mouth accidentally, letting out a small moan when he saw how good you took him in your mouth. Trevor was a bit girthier than Alucard, but what he lacked in thickness he made up for in length. You were fortunately very used to being face fucked, taking Trevor’s length was easy for you, if only just a tad shorter. He pet your hair, grabbing at the roots and letting you set a pace, leaning over and smacking your ass for good measure. You moaned around him, stuttering and gagging around him from the sudden slap. 

You felt a delicate hand slip two fingers into your soaking cunt, causing you to moan again around the brunette. Behind you was Sypha, slowly fucking her fingers into your wet heat. Her head was spinning with how good Alucard was eating her, but having your pussy right in her face was driving her mad. She wanted a taste, even if just from licking the juices off her fingers. Alucard noticed, releasing the grip he had on her just enough for her to reposition herself underneath you, grabbing at your hips and begging you to sit on her face. “Beautiful pussy..” you heard her whisper, bringing a heat to your face. Sypha was sloppy, still so new to eating cunt but her desire to make you feel good was so overwhelming she couldn’t help but keep licking at you. She was a quick learner, feeling your hole clench around her tongue whenever she licked up a certain way, your hips pressing down harder into her face when she sucked your clit. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head as you rutted against her face, feeling Trevor take control of her head and fucking into your throat. 

Alucard brought Sypha up to her first orgasm, pushing two fingers into her heat and curling up--hitting that squishy spot that had her creaming on his face. She moaned into your pussy, causing you to hump at her face using her to get to your high. It wasn’t long until you were there, sucking harsh on your nub when you came. “You girls look so good when you cum.” Trevor laughed breathlessly, pulling you off his cock to let you catch your breath. Alucard chuckled, removing the last of his clothes and kneeling. “I’d have to agree with you Belmont, they’re gorgeous aren’t they.” The compliments had you preening, turning around stradling Spyha, rubbing your body on hers as you tasted yourself on her tongue, before looking up at your husband with a salacious smile. “I want a taste~” You cooed, pulling him down for a kiss and licking into his mouth with a moan. “Taste so good on his tongue, Sypha.” Her body shuddered, a light blush dusting her skin. Alucard looked over at Trevor, slowly pumping his cock as he eyed both yours and Sypha’s pussy on display for him. “Do you want a taste, Belmont?” Alucard was treading lightly, still unsure if Trevor would reciprocate. “Fuck, come here you stupid vampire.” Without a second thought, Trevor grabbed the back of Alucard’s neck and smashed his lips against him, biting and licking his lips, tongues circling each other in a fight to dominate the other. Alucard whimpered, letting Trevor take the lead as he licked into his mouth, the blonde’s nails clawing down Trevor’s chest and grabbing a hold of his hard cock. The vampire hunter hissed, pulling back to look at the way Alucard stroked him, huffing as Alucard traveled south to suck him off. Trevor moaned, head being thrown back as the other male sucked him off with enthusiasm. Alucard bobbed his head, tongue sticking out from his mouth and slurped the spit that was dribbling from his mouth. 

You moved to get underneath Alucard, enough to be able to take his cock into your mouth. He was incredibly hard, leaking precum over the sheets as he continued to ignore his own pleasure for everyone elses’. So selfless. You lapped up the stickiness from the head, and trailing down to his balls, taking one into your mouth and laving your tongue over it, while your hand jerked at his enlarged cock. He stuttered on Trevor’s cock, causing him to release him with a pop and take hold with his hand, flicking his wrist and keeping a pleasurable pressure on him. “Ah fuck, darling, so good for me.” He groaned, gripping the roots at the crown of your head, pulling you up to shove you down onto his cock. You gagged, regaining your composure as you continued to choke around him, nosing his pubes with each thrust he gave you. Alucard continued giving Trevor attention, wrapping his pretty lips against his dick again, nails clawing at his thighs with each thrust Trevor decided to meet with his bobbing. 

Sypha moved up to kiss Trevor, tongue licking at his mouth, gripping his broad shoulders as they made out. He dipped two fingers into her wet cunt, pistoning them in and out of her sloppy pussy. “Fuck, they’re better than I thought they’d be.” Trevor all but moaned into her mouth, and she nodded in agreement, fucking herself down on his thick fingers. Trevor pulled Alucard off his cock, the dhampir’s eyes glassing over with lust, pulling him up for a quick kiss before whispering against him: “I want to fuck your wife.”

You and Sypha moved in tandem, face down ass up towards Trevor, practically presenting your dripping cunts to him while the two of you moved to lick and suck Alucard’s cock and balls. It was nearly overwhelming ,feeling the love of his life share his dick with his friend, exchanging kisses and spit with each other. He almost forgot why he was in this position in the first place before hearing you squeal. Trevor pushed into your tight heat, pussy greedily sucking him in with each thrust. “Fuck! Pussy so good.” He growled, grabbing a hold of your hips and slamming himself into you. Alucard saw your eyes roll to the back of your head, slowly becoming cockdrunk off Trevor’s dick. It made his dick twitch in Sypha’s mouth, a glob of precum oozing out onto her tongue. Your mouth lolled open, tongue hanging as you drooled onto the sheets below you. You couldn’t form any words, just babbling away at how good Trevor was making you feel. Trevor pulled out, only to shove himself into Sypha turning her to mush the same way. You’d both give Alucard head, turning messy and sloppy each time Trevor would take turns with the two of you. Then Trevor surprised the dhampir the most.

“You want a turn, pretty boy?”

-

“Trevor you fuck him so good.” You gasped, rubbing your pussy along Sypha’s, fingers in her mouth making her a mess underneath you. On the side of you was Alucard already crying at the feeling of his tight hole being pummeled by the Belmont. He was so full, cock feeling so much better than he could have ever imagined. Alucard reached for you, grabbing at your free hand. You held his hand, looking over to your husband with your eyes hazy, cunt sopping wet against the speaker’s. “Look at you honey, so fucking handsome.” You heard him moan, tip wet with his arousal. Sypha’s muffled voice was warped around your fingers, letting up enough to let her speak. “Wanna ride him, please.” Her eyes were pleading, and who were you to deny her?

She scrambled from below you, hovering over his cock and lining herself up, Trevor slowing down enough to let her slowly fill herself up with Alucard’s cock. She clawed at his chest, feeling so full and having him so deep was making her pant. Trevor sped up once again, wrapping a hand around Sypha to tease and grope her tits. He kissed at her back and shoulders, biting every now and again with pleasure. Alucard was dizzy, pleasure completely overwhelming him, but he knew something was still missing-you were still missing. With hazy eyes he looked at you, not even giving you a moment before he pulled you onto his face and ate you like a man starved. You cried out, feeling his tongue to deep curling into your cunt as you rode him. Each moan he let out vibrated against your pussy, pushing you closer to the edge. Sypha was just about as far along as you were, bouncing on Alucard’s dick with fervor. You reached down to rub at her swollen clit, occasionally pinching the bundle of nerves. She cried out, trembling and clenching on Alucard, riding her orgasm on his cock until she tapped: climbing off him to catch her breath. Alucard was losing his mind, so close to cumming. You could feel his desperation in the way he ate you out. Leaning down you took his cock into your mouth, taste Sypha’s cum on his length. Alucard held out as long as he could, waiting to feel you clench around his tongue and tasting your cum, gushing out over his tongue and face, before moaning and bucking into your tongue releasing his sticky fluids into your mouth and deep down your throat. Trevor took all the sights in, dick twitching inside Alucard before he pulled out, pulling Sypha down and jerking onto her tongue. “Share with our pretty boy, beautiful.” He panted, having Sypha crawling up to Alucard’s mouth and sharing Trevor’s cum with him after you moved away. 

The four of you collapsed onto the large bed, nothing but pants and huffs heard in the air, thick with the scent of sex. “So...this is what you two freaks get up to?” Trevor teased, feeling a pillow lunged at him muffling his face. 

“I liked it better when you didn’t talk, Belmont.”

[almoststedytimetravel]

I think more people (me) should stop using Ravens and other corvids to act as omen's of death when doing a symbolism and start using Pīwakawaka as omens of the death instead.

You may not like it, but this is what peak death omen looks like.

[nickgoesinsane]

Olrox definitely drops things on purpose so he can bend down in front of you. He’ll be wearing the most form-fitting trousers he owns, the ones that hug the curve of his ass and accentuate the thickness of his thighs. He’ll pretend to be surprised when you give in and grab him from behind, calling you a degenerate even though he’s literally pressing his ass against your crotch and guiding your hand to his hard cock. Doesn’t complain when you kiss that smug smirk off his face.

[demigoddessqueens]

I saw an ask with the Crictal Role Characters defending S/O from shitty family so can that be applied to the Castlevania Characters as well like Alcuard, Trevor, Sypha , Greta, Hector, Issac, Lenore, Richter, Maria, Annette, Dracula, Olrox, Morgana and Striga.

Of course nonnie!!

Alucard - has those snarky quips ready in a whole “enough of your shit” way

Sypha - she’s a rambling grumpy mess at said family, maybe drops a few cusses, and just lets it out with a blunt “you are rude!!”

Trevor - oh he does not care at all! low gravelly sighs with a few grumpy “oh shut up, f*ck off”

Greta - nope! She won’t allow this, won’t stand for it! Tells them off so eloquently and then has you in tow

Hector - he knows a thing or two about bad families so he’ll drop some thinly veiled threats but won’t waste his time or breath

Isaac - not really holding back his disdain for your mistreatment and a Night Creature army can help with that

Maria - she’s piping mad if someone mistreats you and her lengthy vocabulary emphasizes that

Annette - she’s lost and gained family so it holds dear to her, and to have others show such disdain for you greatly angers her

Richter - family is everything to Belmonts so Richter is pissed AF to see you treated so disrespectfully and even argues with them, hyping you up too

Dracula - it’s the whole “what is a man?!” all over again and gods have mercy on the family who dared to insult you

Lenore - she’s got that scowl on her face and dishes out some mean snark if she feels riled up enough

Olrox - those piercing greens betray all the boiling rage he’s about to unleash, may go into snake form just to scare them

Striga and Morana - intimidation, snark, may break the dinner table, but also very protective of you

[aquilaofarkham]

Dying Has Never Frightened Us: Intergenerational Trauma, Healing, & the Burden of Legacy in Castlevania

An analytical and interpretation essay that discusses how the concept of family legacy and duty can lead to intergenerational trauma in the Castlevania franchise. Focuses primarily on the Belmont who found strength from his pain by honouring his family’s legacy no matter how heavy it felt or the burden that came with it and the Belmont who found his own strength from the ones he loved and who loved him in return.

☽ Read the full piece here or click the read more for the text only version ☽

THE BURNING NEED FOR RETRIBUTION: INTRODUCTION

The world has trauma. It is deep, collective, spanning its roots over centuries and territories dating back to when the borders of today never existed, and it has largely gone untreated—but not undiscussed.

From children’s cartoons to award winning dramas, trauma has become one of the most common topics for media to discuss, depict, and dissect. It makes sense given the sort of physical and mental gauntlet which society has been through in the past five years. Sometimes even in just the past twenty-four hours. From an uptick in disasters stemming from climate change, the rise of publicised policy brutality, genocide as a result of settler colonisation, new developments coming to light after decades of denial regarding the residential school system in Canada, and of course a global pandemic which is still making ripples. Then there is the recent examination of generational trauma which differs from culture to culture. The open wounds we’ve already left and will be leaving for future age groups.

Seeing how fiction reflects reality and vice versa, it isn’t any wonder that movies, television shows, and video games find ways of processing this worldwide sensation of frustrated ennui along with the need to find answers as to how regular citizens can fix things, including ourselves, when politicians and world leaders cannot. When reality cannot provide satisfying resolutions, when we are left confused and even angrier than before due to the apparent shortcomings of institutions meant to provide relief towards the average person, it’s natural to look towards specific media. Whether for coping mechanisms, validation for this collective and personal trauma, or simply for cathartic release so the emotions don’t have to remain bottled up.

Castlevania , both its original 2017 series and the most recent entry of Castlevania: Nocturne (as well as the video games which the show is inspired by), is no stranger to this popular trend of storytelling and characterisation. Yet this trend also comes with its own controversy. When done with a deft writer’s hand and a layer of empathetic critical thinking, trauma in fiction and how we heal from its intergenerational effects can be a powerful tool in raising awareness in regards to something left forgotten by the larger public or it can allow viewers to look inwards at themselves. Done poorly or with a lack of empathy and taste, then the floodgates open.

But beyond the usual discourse surrounding trauma in fiction (how to portray a “realistic” panic attack, what makes a “good” victim, the problematic connotations of forgiving one’s abuser, etc.), Castlevania has its own things to say about the lingering effects of grief, guilt, and pain over the course of thirty-two episodes (now a fourty episode runtime with the inclusion of Castlevania: Nocturne season one). The series—particularly the first which ran from 2017 to 2021—has now gained a reputation for being one of the darker animated ventures tackling themes of religious corruption, abuse, sexual manipulation, and injustice among many others. The value and thoughtfulness of each depicted theme ranges from being genuinely compelling to delving into mere shock value yet the series is also known for its uplifting ending and cathartic release from such dark themes.

One could write entire dissertations on each complicated character and their developments. From Dracula’s suicidal tendencies as a result of unchecked grief to Isaac’s conflicted redemptive journey beginning with his unflinching loyalty to the king of vampires and ending with him forging down his own path in life. How characters such as Carmilla, consumed by her inner agonies and burning hatred towards the world to the bitter end, was left isolated from her sisters until she was forced to choose the terms of her own death, while others like Alucard, Sypha, and to an extent Hector rose above their individual torments in favour of hope and survival. However, this examination will focus on the series’ titular family of vampire hunters. Namely, the Belmont who found strength from his pain by honouring his family’s legacy no matter how heavy it felt or the burden that came with it and the Belmont who found his own strength from the ones he loved and who loved him in return.

Note: this essay will delve into speculations and purely interpretative hypotheses stemming from the author’s own opinions in regards to how they personally read the presented text. It will also discuss heavy spoilers for the majority of Castlevania games and the first season of Castlevania: Nocturne.

—

WHAT A HORRIBLE NIGHT FOR A CURSE: THE CYCLE OF TRAGEDY IN THE CASTLEVANIA GAMES

This examination begins in the exact same place as the show began with its inspirations and references: the original video games developed and distributed by Konami Group Corporations. It’s easy to get swept up in the notion that because of the technological limitations with video games at the time, the Castlevania games are devoid of story or characterization. Yet even the most bare bones of a story found in the games can still have something to say about the burden of legacy and how trauma left unconfronted has the possibility of tearing down that legacy. The most prominent example being Castlevania: Symphony of the Night , arguably the first game to begin delving into a deeper story and character driven narrative. It follows the events of Castlevania: Rondo of Blood , a game which portrayed its protagonist Richter Belmont as a force of nature in the face of evil, always knowing what to do, what to say, and emerging victorious without so much as breaking a sweat (or candelabra).

In keeping with the time of its release and the landscape of popular media particularly in Japan, Rondo of Blood feels like a traditional 1990s action anime complete with brightly coloured cutscenes and character designs reminiscent of Rumiko Takahashi and Rui Araizumi (despite the usual classic horror elements present in every Castlevania game). This is most evident with Maria Renard, the second playable protagonist who attacks with her own arsenal of magical animals and even has her own upbeat theme music during the credits when players complete the main story in “Maria mode”. Richter also shares many similar personality traits with his counterpart, namely his optimism in the face of danger and the confidence that he will be the hero of this narrative.

Of course all this changed in the direct follow-up to Rondo of Blood , the aforementioned Symphony of the Night . Arguably the new staple of future Castlevania games to come, not only did it change the gameplay and aesthetic, it changed the very core of the characters as well. The game even begins with the same ending as Rondo of Blood where Richter fights and defeats Dracula with the help of Maria. Then during the opening crawl, we discover that during a time skip, Richter has vanished and Maria is searching for him. Surely this will be nothing less than a heroic rescue and the most powerful Belmont of his century will be restored to his rightful pedestal.

Yet for the first half of Symphony of the Night , the player is faced with a sobering realisation—the villain we’re supposed to be fighting, the one responsible for conjuring Dracula’s castle back into existence, is Richter himself. No longer the hero we’ve come to adore and look up to from the previous game. Of course, the player along with new protagonist Alucard both know that something isn’t right; perhaps Richter isn’t in his sound mind or some nefarious force is possessing him to commit evil deeds. But unless the player solves the right puzzles and find the right in-game items, Symphony ends with Alucard putting down Richter like a rabid dog. However, this ending can be avoided and a whole second half of the game is revealed.

Richter’s canonical ending is left ambiguous at best, tragic at worst. He laments over his moment of weakness, claiming the events of the game were his fault despite Alucard’s insistence that confronting Dracula was always going to be inevitable. Still, the tragedy of Richter’s fate and how he is portrayed in Symphony of the Night comes much later, when it’s implied the Belmonts are no longer capable of wielding the fabled Vampire Killer, a leather whip imbued with supernatural properties that has been passed down generation after generation. One mistake and misjudgment left the Belmont legacy in a perpetual long lasting limbo with the titular hunters themselves seemingly disappearing from history as well, leaving others such as the Order of Ecclesia to pick up the fight against Dracula’s eventual resurgence. It isn’t until the height of World War II (the setting of Castlevania: Portrait of Ruin ) when the whip’s true potential is finally set free thanks to the actions of Jonathan Morris, a distant relative of the infamous vampire slaying family. However, the only way in which Jonathan can reawaken the Vampire Killer is by defeating a manifestation of the person who last wielded it and also whom the whip abandoned nearly two hundred years prior—Richter Belmont.

Yet players and fans don’t get to see it in the hands of another Belmont until the events of 1999 when Julius Belmont defeats the latest incarnation of Dracula and seals his castle away in a solar eclipse. Even then, he loses his memory until thirty years pass and he’s forced to do battle with Soma Cruz, an innocent transfer student who is also the reincarnation of Dracula. If the protagonist of Castlevania: Aria of Sorrow succeeds in defeating the cosmic threat that has awakened his supposed “evil” destiny, then Julius can finally lay down the Vampire Killer in peace (until the sequel Castlevania: Dawn of Sorrow , of course). If not, the game ends with Julius keeping his promise to Soma should he lose sight of his human side and let Dracula be reborn once again. In a scene that directly mirrors the beginning of Symphony , Julius enters the castle throne room, Soma throws down his wine goblet, and the screen goes black. The cycle continues anew. Julius has upheld the duty of his family name but at what cost.

The theme of tragedy getting passed down through different generations, permeating from person to person even with those who are not Belmonts, is a staple of later Castlevania games following Symphony of the Night . In some instances, pain and trauma is what jumpstarts the story moving forward. Castlevania: Curse of Darkness begins with its protagonist Hector in a direct parallel to Dracula swearing revenge on the one responsible for the murder of his wife; an ultimatum that follows him every step of the way, fuelling his rage and determination up until the penultimate moment when his goal is within reach. Yet even then he cries out, claiming this “murderous impulse” isn’t truly him—it’s the result of an outside force he himself once aided before defecting before the events of the game.

Something similar occurs in Castlevania: Lords of Shadow , an alternative reimagining of the franchise that while still a topic of division amongst most die hard fans has also seen a resurgence of popularity and reevaluation. It begins with Gabriel Belmont grieving over the death of his own wife (a trope which is unfortunately common amongst the majority of Castlevania titles). This is a wound that follows him throughout his journey until an even more painful and shattering twist regarding Marie Belmont’s demise is revealed to Gabriel later in the game.

However, there is one example from the games that stands above the rest in regards to the sort of damage which generational trauma as a result of familial duty and legacy, upheld to an almost religious degree, can inflict. So much so that even a declaration of retribution can evolve into a generational curse.

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HUNT THE NIGHT: LEON BELMONT & THE MYTH OF FREE WILL

The Castlevania timeline didn’t always have a set beginning. An inciting incident by which all future stories, characters, and inevitable calamities could base themselves off of. Rather it changed from game to game until a definitive origin was settled in 2003 with the release of Castlevania: Lament of Innocence . For at least two games, the starting point was supposed to be with Simon Belmont, making his way through a labyrinth of dark forests and cursed towns, before finally traversing the ever changing fortress in Transylvania to defeat Dracula. He even went as far as to gather the remains and resurrect the eponymous lord of his own choice just to rid himself of another curse entirely. 

Castlevania protagonists are always cursed by something. Whether it be the cause of Dracula’s influence, their own actions as seen in Lords of Shadow , a curse of the flesh like how Simon had to tackle his own ailment in Castlevania II: Simon’s Quest , or something else just as common as Dracula’s curse: the burden of honouring a family duty.

A basic yet iconic 1986 entry followed by a sequel that had potential especially with the first appearance of the now famous “Bloody Tears” track but suffered from a rather confusing and lacklustre end product. Then suddenly the starting point for the franchise timeline changed drastically. Castlevania III: Dracula’s Curse despite the numerical inclusion in its title stands as more of a prequel, detailing the exploits of the Belmont who came before Simon. Not much was altered in the grand scheme of things; the titular vampire hunter still essentially slays Dracula with the help of three other playable characters, said final boss having been driven mad and more violent than ever by humanity’s slight against him. However, not only were the methods by which Dracula is defeated changed but players were given more insight into the sort of burden placed upon the Belmont family name.

When the story of Dracula’s Curse begins, protagonist Trevor Belmont isn’t revered as a legend or hero but rather a blight on larger society who the people only turn to as a last ditch effort against rising evil. The regular god-fearing people of Wallachia now fear the Belmonts and their power (it is also implied that some still feared the barbarian-esque Simon despite his legendary status) so the family is excommunicated. Trevor is forced to enlist three other outcasts—or simply two other fighters, depending on which version of the story you examine—in order to carry out the family business. Even when the rest of the world has shunned them and there are plenty of others just as capable of stopping the forces of evil, a Belmont still has a destiny to fulfil. 

Yet once a series has gone on for long enough, things within the established canon are bound to change—again and again. Whether through re-examination in order to line it up better with present day morals and sensibilities, or through good old fashioned retconning in favour of something more interesting, more thought out, or less convoluted. Other times, it’s simply because either the creator or viewers wanted it to happen. In 1997, this occurred with the release of Castlevania Legends on the GameBoy, a prequel to Dracula’s Curse that was meant to serve as the actual origin for the Belmonts, Dracula, and even his son Alucard. Instead of Trevor, the very first Belmont to fight Dracula is now his mother, Sonia Belmont, seventeen years old and already burdened with the glorious purpose of her bloodline.

Sonia is undoubtedly the protagonist of her own story with agency and drive. However, the game ends with a stark reminder of why the Belmonts have a place in the Castlevania universe. The last we see of Sonia in Legends is in the form of an epilogue where she holds her newborn child and states that one day when he’s grown, he will “be praised by all the people as a hero”. Despite her triumph over Dracula—a monumental feat itself—it seems that her purpose in the end (the purpose of most Belmonts other than to forever fight evil in fact) was to merely continue the bloodline so that descendants can carry out a promise made centuries before by another Belmont—someone that neither Simon, Trevor, Julius, or Richter ever knew.

The inevitability of sudden retcons within long-running media was not as kind to Legends as it was to Dracula’s Curse . Because of how the in-game events conflicted with subsequent entries (for example the implication that Trevor is actually the son of Alucard, thus further tying the Belmonts to Dracula through blood as well as duty), both Legends and Sonia were completely removed from the canon timeline. This is merely one reason why the next attempt at creating the definitive origin for the franchise, now a cult favourite among certain subsections of the fan community, was regarded with some animosity. However, twenty years after its release, Castlevania: Lament of Innocence is considered by many as an underrated entry. It is certainly the darker title where both the hero and villain stumble through their own hardships yet neither emerges completely victorious by the end.

The opening narration crawl of Lament of Innocence describes the lives of Leon Belmont and Mathias Cronqvist. They spend most of their lives as reflections of each other; one grows into more of a fighter while the second is coveted for his intellect and ambition. Both are valorous, honourable, and products of their own respective plights. Despite his service to the church, Leon is soon systematically stripped of everything save for the clothes on his back because he wouldn’t follow their orders blindly. While Mathias is forced to watch as an uncaring god (the very same god he serves) takes away a figure of pure virtue and love. This figure, Elisabeta Cronqvist who appears to be a splitting image of Dracula’s next deceased wife Lisa Tepes, was the last remaining tie Mathias still had to whatever bit of morality he still feels, which he eventually throws away when deciding to drag his only friend and everything he holds dear into hell alongside him.

The difference is how both men react to those personal horrors and how they let it govern their pasts, presents, and futures not just for themselves but for others who follow after the dust has supposedly settled. Two men, two best friends turned hateful enemies because of an interlinked tragedy. Not only that, but also because of their perspectives, morals, and the way they view a world that is unkind to them. Both were spurred by the death of loved ones, both used it as a conduit, or rather a catalyst for the radically opposing directions in which their choices take them and their families. Leon chooses to struggle onwards towards a world free from darkness and horror despite his pain. Mathias chooses to revel in that very same darkness and pain with a fire that would burn for aeons. In the end, one thing is absolute. A single thing the two men can agree upon as they flee down adverse paths: one of them will destroy the other.

Yet the timeline of Castlevania proves that this choice comes at a great cost for the Belmonts in particular. By the end of Lament of Innocence , Mathias has revealed himself to be the great manipulator pulling the strings behind the scenes. Due to the immense grief he felt over losing Elisabeta to a presumably common illness made untreatable because of the time period’s medical limitations (coupled with his own arrogance and narcissism), Mathias finally becomes Dracula. Dominion over death and even god by has been achieved by doing what Leon’s righteously moral mind cannot comprehend: transforming himself into an immortal creature driven by bloodlust. All he had to do was lie, cheat, and cruelly outsmart everyone else around him. That of course includes Leon as Mathias’ manipulation tactics were also the cause of the mercy killing of Sara Tarantoul, Leon’s fiance, to stop her from turning into a vampire herself. After watching his former friend escape before the sun can rise and disposing of Dracula’s constant right hand man Death, Leon finally feels his anger over such a betrayal boil over. He gives one final message to Mathias, now the new king of the vampires: “This whip and my kinsmen will destroy you someday. From this day on, the Belmont Clan will hunt the night.”

This is how Castlevania: Lament of Innocence ends. Unlike other entries like Symphony of the Night, Aria of Sorrow, or Harmony of Dissonance , there is no good, neutral, or bad ending that can be achieved if the player is aware of certain secrets and tricks. There is only one for Leon and Mathias. The inclusion of multiple endings in some Castlevania games versus a singular set ending in others may seem like a small coincidental narrative choice in conjunction with evolving gameplay, but it matters in the case of Lament of Innocence. From the moment Leon enters the castle to rescue his fiance, the wheel has already started turning and his fate is sealed. Mathias has already won and Sara, along with future Belmonts, are already doomed. And Leon’s ultimatum made in the heat of the moment would go on to have repercussions centuries later. “Hunting the night” gave the Belmonts purpose but it also burdened them with that exact purpose. While Dracula deals in curses, so does the Belmont family—a curse of duty that gets passed down throughout the bloodline.

Leon Belmont was of course never malicious or cruel like Mathias was. He never wanted to deliberately curse his family because he suffered and so should they. His choice was made out of anger and retribution. Still, it goes on to affect Simon, Sonia, Julius, and others in drastic yet different ways. Yet in the case of specific Belmonts like Trevor and Richter, we see how this family legacy can have varied consequences in far more detail through the introduction of animation and serialised writing into the Castlevania franchise.

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SOMETHING BETTER THAN A PILE OF RUINS: TREVOR BELMONT & STRENGTH FROM LEGACY

If there’s one thing that Castlevania makes abundantly clear with its four season runtime, it is that trauma does not inherently make people better or more virtuous. We of course see this from the games with Mathias and his personal crusade against god which leads to the complete dissolvement of his closest friendship. Or with Hector and the rage he feels towards his wife’s murderer, who also happens to be his former comrade under Dracula’s employment. Even Leon’s promise to both his friend, now his most despised enemy, and future descendants can also be an example of how gut reactions to pain, grief, and betrayal can have damaging consequences in the long run. This particular dissection of trauma when it affects a survivor negatively and in almost life-altering ways while still giving them a chance at achieving their own method of healing is most apparent with the animated representation of Trevor Belmont.

At its core, the first season of Castlevania airing in July of 2017 with four episodes in total is inspired by the events of Dracula’s Curse with the following seasons taking more from Curse of Darkness along with original story elements. It begins with the brutal execution of Lisa Tepes after she is falsely accused of being a witch. Shortly afterwards, Dracula declares war on all of humanity in an explosion of grief-riddled vengeance (a declaration that is not dissimilar to Mathias’ cursing of god after Elisabeta’s admittedly more natural death). Hundreds of civilians are slaughtered in the capital city Targoviste and hoards of night creatures descend upon more townships across Wallachia. 

This would be the perfect opportunity for a Belmont to stand up and fight back except there is one problem: the Belmonts have been eradicated from this world on false grounds of black magic and aiding the vampire lords instead of hunting them—much like how Lisa was slandered and paid the price with her own life.

The only Belmont left surviving is Trevor himself and his introduction does not paint him in the most optimistic or even heroic light. In the midst of being excommunicated by the church, he’s been wandering aimlessly for the past few years while languishing in whatever tavern he stumbles upon. In one particular bar Trevor finds himself in, he overhears the other patrons cursing the Belmonts and blaming them for Dracula’s siege upon humanity. He tries to stay out of it and not bring too much attention to himself until one glance at the family emblem stitched into his shirt breast is enough to ignite an all out skirmish.

Trevor hides his true identity not because he’s ashamed of it, but for his own safety and self preservation. In fact, the opinion he holds of his family is the total opposite from disdain for the sort of legacy they have saddled him with even in death. He reacts strongly to false accusations directed towards the Belmonts, angrily correcting the bar patrons by stating that his family fought monsters. However, he quickly realises he’s said too much and tries saving face by once again detaching himself from possibly being connected to the aforementioned Belmonts.

It’s only when Trevor is backed into a corner and is fresh out of snappy drunk retorts (thanks to a few hard hits to his nether regions) does he finally admit to his real lineage. As mentioned earlier, Trevor finds himself caught up in the first real brawl of the series not because of the pride he feels in himself but the immense pride he feels for his bloodline. All the while, he’s given up trying to hide what he is—a Belmont—and what he was born to do—fight fucking vampires.

Every time Trevor has the opportunity to bring up his bloodline whether in a fight or in conversation, it’s usually spoken with some bravado and weight even when he’s inebriated. However, when visiting the ruins of the Belmont ancestral home in season two and thus directly confronted with what little remains of his family legacy, Trevor loses all that previous bluster and becomes far more contemplative. He doesn’t reveal much of what it was like to actually live as a Belmont, only that it was “fine” and “no one was lonely in this house”. Even when staring up at the portrait of Leon Belmont, he says nothing and instead firmly  grips the very weapons which his ancestor must have also wielded.

It’s clear that Trevor feels no shame, bitterness, or lack of respect towards his family history despite the hardships that have come with it. Still, it’s difficult for him to truly accept the duty of being a Belmont and Trevor continually struggles with it over the course of two full seasons. Upon arriving at the ruined city of Gresit which is under constant threat of night creature attacks, Trevor doesn’t seem particularly concerned with the people’s plight or with helping them. He inquires about what’s been happening by speaking with a few local merchants but it’s only in order for him to gain a better picture of the situation that Gresit finds itself in. Otherwise, he’s simply passing through on his way to another tavern, fist fight, sleeping spot, or all three. Until he puts aside his own needs for self-protection in favour of saving an elder Speaker (a fictionalised group of nomads original to the Castlevania show who have made it their mission to help less fortunate communities and pass on their histories via oral tradition) from a potential hate crime committed by two supposed men of the cloth.

This moment acts as a representation of the first chip in Trevor’s carefully maintained armour. During the bar fight, he claimed over and over again that he was a Belmont in both skill and purpose. However, Trevor hasn’t done much to prove such a proclamation. Because of his ennui and poor coping mechanisms due to lingering trauma, he’s been all talk and not a lot of action—until this point. At first he tells himself to walk away, this sort of confrontation doesn’t concern him. Then he remembers where he comes from and uses the very same family heirloom to help someone physically weaker than himself.

Yet when he accompanies the elder back to where the other Speakers have found shelter from the monsters repeatedly demanding their heads as well as future night creature attacks, Trevor’s metaphorical walls are erected back up. He won’t take any part in this eradication of humanity whether as a victim or perpetrator and especially not to stop it. The people of Wallachia made their choice in the unjust murder of Dracula’s innocent wife, they made their choice when they decided to massacre what was left of his family, and the church made their choice when they decided to fight Dracula’s armies themselves without the Belmonts. Why should he lift a finger (or whip) to save the masses?

Despite this nihilistic attitude, Trevor proves to be a poor defeatist. He still desperately wants to protect the Speakers and warns them of an oncoming pogrom planned for them. A massive hate crime fueled by superstition and facilitated by the corrupt Bishop of Gresit which will supposedly save the city from night creature ambushes (this can be interpreted as a direct allegory meant to comment on how minority groups such as Jewish and Romani communities were used as scapegoats during the Mediaeval period). However, the Speakers refuse to budge and decide to face the angry and misled crowds head-on. They instead tell Trevor to leave in their place which, in a burst of frustration, spurs him to finally act like a member of his clan should. 

What follows next is one of the most defining moments of the series for Trevor, cementing his place as a Belmont. Another corrupt member of the church demands to know what he could possibly stand to gain from fighting back considering his downtrodden state and the fact that he’s entirely outnumbered. Trevor’s answer is simple: nothing. The Belmonts don’t protect everyday people for any great reward or because of any strong personal ties. They do it because it’s their duty and the right thing to do. Trevor even mirrors something which the elder Speaker told him; a family mantra that encompasses the very purpose of the Belmonts, dating back to Leon: “It’s not the dying that frightens us. It’s never having stood up and fought for you.”

Trevor’s healing journey does not end at this moment. He still has moments of hesitation where someone like Alucard has to forcibly remind him of his place as Belmont, saying he needs to choose whether he’s really the last of a long line of hunters or a drunkard. This leads to a fight sequence that nearly spans the length of an entire episode where Trevor further proves himself by taking on at least three different creatures all with varying degrees of strength, skill, and fortitude. Episode six of season two is the ideal example of not only Trevor’s determination but also his quick thinking. Moments such as him wrapping his cloak around his hand so that it doesn’t get cut while his sword slices through the throat of a minotaur or using a set of sticks to beat against an adversary when his whip is knocked away. Being a Belmont means using one’s intellect (no matter how unconventional it may seem) as well as one’s muscles. 

There is also another albeit less violent instance at the start of season three where he still feels the need to hide his surname while in an unfamiliar village. Then there is the revelation that malicious stories about the Belmonts and their supposed demise still circulate amongst rural Wallachian communities. Yet despite coming from a family of old killers (a term Trevor uses before facing off against Death in the final season) his family name remains his strength and the weight of both the Vampire Killer and Morningstar whip keep him grounded rather than burden him. The Belmont name carries such weight throughout the series that by the end, there is strong consideration from Alucard of naming a new township nestled in the shadow of Dracula’s castle after that family.

Trevor deals with his pain and trauma quietly, almost numbing it with the assistance of alcohol and dodging the harder questions regarding what his family was really like. He still finds strength in remembering what the Belmonts are here for despite the tribulations that come with the family name. Hardships that continue and evolve nearly three hundred years later.

—

THE THINGS THAT MAKE ME WHO I AM: RICHTER BELMONT & STRENGTH FROM LOVE

Depending on what sort of mood you might find the author of this essay in, their favourite Castlevania game will vary. At the moment, it’s a three way tie between Symphony of the Night for its artistry, Lament of Innocence for its story and characterisation, and Aria of Sorrow for its evolved gameplay. However, one personal decision remains relatively consistent no matter the mood or time of day: Richter Belmont is the author’s favourite Belmont and the inclusion of him in the latest animated adaptation Castlevania: Nocturne has only cemented that fact.

It makes sense from both a narrative and marketing standpoint as to why we’ve suddenly gone from the events of Dracula’s Curse/Curse of Darkness depicted in the previous series all the way three hundred years later to Rondo of Blood . Narratively, Richter and his companion Maria Renard already have a direct link to Alucard through the events of Symphony , which Nocturne will most likely cover and be inspired by in its second season. Marketing wise while also appealing to the largest demographic possible (even those less familiar with the games), amongst more recurring characters like Dracula and Alucard, Richter is arguably one of the most recognisable Castlevania figures right down to his design.

Certain traits and visual motifs of other Belmonts have changed drastically over the years and with each iteration. Meanwhile, from Rondo and Symphony , to Harmony of Despair and the mobile game Grimoire of Souls , to finally Nocturne and the inclusion of Richter as a playable character in the fighting game Super Smash Bros Ultimate , specific elements of Richter never waver. This includes his blue colour scheme, his tousled brown hair, and his iconic white headband. All of which carry over in the first season of Nocturne which not only expands upon Richter’s character first established in Rondo of Blood but also further examines said character.

For example, Richter’s true introduction directly following the downer cold opening is without a doubt the farest cry from Trevor’s. While Trevor’s first scene acted as a sobering depiction of what happens when physically/mentally damaging coping mechanisms mix with unacknowledged grief, Richter’s first fight gets the audience’s blood pumping, complete with a triumphant musical score and a showcase of his skill with the Vampire Killer. Richter is cocky, but not reckless. He’s sarcastic, but not sullen like Trevor was. Because of his upbringing after the death of his mother, filled with positive affirmations, he values the wellbeing of others along with their fighting experience. Yet his confidence does not overshadow his acknowledgement of the family burden. Richter is well aware of how heavy the Belmont legacy and duty can weigh upon an individual’s shoulders along with how closely it can tie itself around a person’s life and their death—a reminder as well as memory which haunts him for nine years.

When Nocturne begins, its first major fight sequence takes place between Richter’s mother Julia Belmont (an original character for the show) and the vampire Olrox, an enemy taken from Symphony of the Night now reimagined as a seductive, complex Indigenous vampire on his own path towards vengeance against the very person who took away the one he loved most in this world—just one of many thematic parallels to the first series, this time referencing Dracula’s motives and justification for his grief. Just when it seems like Julia has the upper hand thanks to her magical prowess, Olrox transforms and ends her life in a swift yet brutal manner. All of which happens right before ten-year-old Richter’s eyes.

Julia was simply doing her duty as a vampire hunter and her life as a Belmont ended the same as most of her ancestors did: in battle while fighting for the life of another. Why then did it hurt Richter most of all? Why does it haunt him well into his early adult years? And why was it seemingly more so than how Trevor’s trauma haunted him? There are two probable answers to this, one being that Richter was only a child, directly confronted by the cause for his mother’s sudden and graphic death with no way of fighting back despite being a Belmont.

In the case of Trevor, although he was a few years older than Richter when his entire family and ancestral home were burned in front of his eyes presumably by the same people they were supposed to be defending, the circumstances which followed them afterwards are vastly different. For nine years Richter was surrounded by those who loved and cared for him whereas Trevor only had himself and the hoards of average Wallachians who hated him because of superstitious rumours and the church’s condemnation. Trevor had over a decade’s worth of experience in becoming desensitised to his pain and trauma, masking it beneath self deprecation and numbing it with alcohol. He wasn’t even aware of the fact that he was a deeply sad and lonely individual until Sypha pointed it out to him.

Despite his bravado and brighter personality than his ancestor, Richter is also an incredibly sad, hurt person who suffers somewhat from tunnel vision. He obviously has empathy and wants to protect people from monsters, vampires, and the like. More so than Trevor did during his introduction before his moment of self-made rehabilitation. However, he doesn’t seem to care much about the revolution itself or what it stands for. He attends Maria’s rally meetings but he doesn’t take active part in them, opting to stay back and keep a watch out for any vampire ambushes. He admits that he doesn’t really listen to Maria’s speeches about liberty, equality, and fraternity. And in the most prominent example of his disillusionment with fighting for a larger righteous cause, when given a revolutionary’s headband, he shoves it into his pocket and mumbles about how tired he is of everything.

This could be interpreted as defeatist if Richter wasn’t already trying so hard to uphold his family duty and maintain a level head. He needs to have a sense of control and almost achieves it until Olrox so casually confronts him in the middle of a battle which Richter and his friends seemed to be winning until they’re forced to flee close behind him. When Richter runs away and emotionally breaks down the moment he’s finally alone, it isn’t because he’s weak or cowardly. On a surface level, it was due to his fear and panic over not being able to face his mother’s killer (someone who has proven to be much, much stronger and more powerful than any Belmont). Yet it was also a form of harsh admission to himself. He couldn’t maintain that aforementioned sense of control and perhaps he never will, not where he is right now at least.

It isn’t until he’s reunited with his grandfather Juste Belmont (long thought to have died, leaving Richter as the final Belmont) that this negative mindset brought on by unresolved trauma begins to shift. In many ways, Juste is another callback to what happened with Trevor. He suffered an immense tragedy in the past and has since spent his entire life drifting from tavern to tavern, avoiding his own grandson and instead leaving him in the care of people far more capable of raising him and instilling better morals within the youngest Belmont.

Other mentor-esque characters appear in Nocturne such as Tera who raised Richter alongside her biological daughter Maria. There is also Cecile, the leader of a Maroon group which Annette joins after escaping slavery. Despite their individual pains, these two women maintain the hope that humanity can be changed and the evils of the world can be defeated. Meanwhile, Juste has thoroughly lost his own hope. He reveals to Richter that “evil will always win” because of how it permeates everything and is far stronger than any Belmont, even the most magically inclined members. No matter how many Draculas, Carmillas, or Lord Ruthvens are defeated, it will always find a way to creep back to the surface whether through the upper class of France or through the very colonisation that nearly wiped out Olrox’s people or enslaved Annette’s family. 

One of the first things that Juste says to Richter directly references the sheer weight of the Belmont legacy, all of which culminates within the whip itself. This can also be a reference to the Vampire Killer carrying a living soul as Leon Belmont was only able to awaken its true power by sacrificing Sara Tarantoul. The whip has both a metaphorical and literal weight which the Belmonts must come to terms with.

Yet for Richter, family is maintained not through blood ties, which can easily die out or be abandoned because of generational trauma, but through the people we find and attach ourselves to. Under the immediate threat of losing his found family, all of Richter’s pain and anguish explodes when his magical powers violently return to him in one of the most visually impressive and cathartic moments of Nocturne season one, complete with an orchestral and operatic rendition of “Divine Bloodlines” taken straight from Rondo of Blood as he ties the same headband he nearly discarded earlier around his head. Then once the dust settles and Richter is asked by Juste how he managed to tap back into that great power, he simply responds with the most obvious answer he can come up with: there are people who love him and he loves them in return. 

This is reiterated when Richter is reunited with Annette and describes the same revelation when she asks how he was able to regain his magic. Not just a mental revelation but for Richter, it was a physical sensation as well. Just when he believed he had lost everything, something reminded him of all the things worth protecting in his life and all the pain he’s had to endure.

Richter finally donning his iconic white headband is symbolic of not only his decision to actively join the French Revolution but also his revelation that the love he feels for Maria, Annette, and Tera is his own righteous cause. That, to him, is worth defending just as much if not more than the concept of a centuries old curse turned legacy.

—

SLAVES TO OUR FAMILIES' WISHES: CONCLUSION

Richter, both his game depiction and his recent Nocturne iteration, acts as a reflection and subversion of what a Belmont is along with what that family duty means to different members. Trevor found healing from his trauma through his duty. Richter found his healing through love. Of course Trevor loved Sypha and Alucard in his own way, but throughout the entire first series, from the moment he removed his cloak at the end of season one to standing up against Death in the finale, his driving motivation was always to preserve his family’s legacy despite his own shortcomings. The Belmonts were all but gone and Trevor had been exiled, excommunicated, and turned into a societal pariah. Had he given into despair and continued with his vagabond ways, who else would wield the Morningstar, the Vampire Killer, or any of the knowledge cultivated by previous Belmont generations?

But for Richter, family legacy is more of a nebulous concept. It gets mentioned in conversations and we see its varying effects on individuals, but even when Richter is reunited with Juste, the immediate priorities of his found family takes the place of his blood family. This, according to him, makes him a Belmont. 

It is also important to consider that we are still only on the first season of Castlevania: Nocturne with season two having been renewed and in production merely a week after its initial premiere. With the reveal of Alucard as a last minute cliffhanger in the penultimate episode, it will be interesting to see how his own characterisation as well as his close tie with both the Belmonts and his own family burden will further develop especially after three hundred years within the show’s timeline. One of the biggest possibilities is that in contrast with his youthful brashness and instability that was the crux of his character in the first series, Alucard might serve as a sort of mentor figure or perhaps his own generational pain will bond him further to Richter and Maria, more so than he was in Symphony of the Night . Then there is the question of whether Richter in the midst of the apparent losses he suffered during the finale of season one will follow down the same path that his video game counterpart did.

In 2020, the author wrote another Castlevania -centric essay which detailed the visual, thematic, and aesthetical shifts of the franchise from its inception during the 1980s all the way to the 2017 adaptation through focusing on how these changes affected Alucard. By the end of that essay, it was mentioned that despite the show being renewed for at least one more season, the overall future of Castlevania remained unknown. This is still the case for now. 

Though one can make educated assumptions and theories, there’s no way of knowing what sort of direction season two of Nocturne will take with its themes and characters. This is doubly true for the games themselves. Despite the anticipated releases of the Silent HIll 2 and Metal Gear Solid Delta: Snake Eater remakes, as of now Konami has not revealed any official decisions to remake, rerelease, or produce new Castlevania titles. One can hope that due to the success of both shows along with the anticipation for Silent Hill and Metal Gear Solid remakes that something new will be in store for Castlevania in the near future.

Castlevania , both its games and animation adaptations, prove that there is a place in this world for every kind of story. In the last episode of season one airing in July 2017, Alucard states what could very well be the thesis of the entire franchise: “We are all, in the end, slaves to our families’ wishes”. Yet even if we cannot escape the narrative we’ve been latched onto or, for dramatic purposes, cursed with, there are ways in which we can combat it and forge our own healing process.

—

MEDIA REFERENCED

Castlevania (1986)

Castlevania II: Simon’s Quest (1987)

Castlevania III: Dracula’s Curse (1989)

Castlevania: Rondo of Blood (1993)

Castlevania Legends (1997)

Castlevania: Symphony of the Night (1997)

Castlevania: Aria of Sorrow (2003)

Castlevania: Lament of Innocence (2003)

Castlevania: Curse of Darkness (2005)

Castlevania: Lords of Shadow (2011)

Castlevania (2017—2021)

Castlevania: Nocturne (2023—)

[home-of-renn]

Just imagine Nocturn acting as Danny's older cousin.

Nocturn was the youngest Ancient till Danny came along and Clockwork had chastised him after his latest attempt to 'play' with the newly formed Half. Danny's still far too young and far too attached to his perceived mortality for Nocturn's games and Clockwork insists that he find a new way to bond. So he takes to visiting the Halfa's dreams and ensuring him a good night's sleep - and maybe throwing in a few wacky scenarios at the boy's expense and watching him fumble about in his own dreamscape where he's unable to hurt himself.

Just Danny having an annoying older cousin who plays games and cracks jokes/pranks that he's too young to get and the whole relationship is kinda one sided cause everyone forgot to cue Danny in that Nocturn isn't actually an evil meddling ghost. And now that Nocturn isn't the youngest anymore he likes popping in and checking up on Danny who's always ready to square up and Nocturn just finds it endlessly amusing. It's kinda like getting threatened by a toddler who's just learnt how to crawl.

Clockwork is so tired of the both of them.

[feyhunter78]

Chapter One - A dance between mortality and desire, between that which you already know and the seductive lure of the unknown in the shadows of the morgue. Miguel, your new coworker, has this irresistible pull and seems to have set his sights on you. You try to stay professional, stay strong, but sooner or later you know you’re bound to fall. A fic in which vampire Miguel has found his lost love (you) once more, and he won’t let anyone, or anything stop him from reclaiming you.

Ch 2

There’s something strange about your coworker, Miguel. Maybe it’s how comfortable he seems to be with the late hours, or how he never seems to eat? At least not where you can see him eating, not that you’ve been watching him, waiting to see if he eats, and yes, the morgue is not really the place to eat, it’s entirely unsanitary, but in the break room? That’s fair game.

All he seems to do is work, drink those weird power shakes he’s so possessive over, and work out? He’s got to work out, there’s no other explanation for why he’s so built.

“Y/N, you need any help with that cadaver?” Miguel asks, a brilliant smile aimed your way, he’s dazzling, teeth straight as a military cemetery, white enough to blind you and his lips...they’re perfect, like unfairly perfect.

He’s handsome, and he knows it. A ladies man, the city mortician office’s Don Juan. You still can’t get over how you caught him and Cheryl from accounting, necking behind the building. Well, almost caught him, you heard the sounds they were making and all but sprinted to your car, face burning. And if your subconscious replaced Cheryl with you while you slept that night, then that was nobody’s business.

“No, no, I’m almost done, just wrapping up my notes.” You tell him, waving your voice recorder in the air, the standard one that the city gives every mortician. The one that annoying ass Dave always breaks, which means every project you work on with him takes twice as long because you have to wait for him to type up and submit his notes manually.

“We’ve got it, Manuel, no worries.” Dave says, the deliberate mispronunciation of Miguel’s name makes you cringe, but Miguel doesn’t even flinch, merely nods and heads back into the hall.

“You know his name is Miguel, right?” You know Dave knows, but you remind him anyways.

“Miguel, Manuel, same difference,” Dave says, brushing you off. “He thinks he’s so great just because all the normies fawn all over him.”

Normies aka everyone not tasked with cutting open dead bodies for a living.

“He’s nice, and he does good work,” You say briskly, finishing up your notes and zipping the body bag back up. “Put this one back in the freezer, yeah?”

“Why are you defending him, you got a crush or something?” Dave asks, leaning onto the slab, wriggling his eyebrows.

“No, I just don’t want to be called as a witness when you get hit with a discrimination lawsuit.” You drawl, clicking off your recorder and slipping it in your lab pocket.

Dave holds up his hands in surrender. “Whoa, hey, hey, I’m not being racist or anything, I’m just hazing the new guy.”

“Since when do we haze?” You snort, locking the freezer once Dave slides the body back in.

“Since we started hiring pretty boys.”

“Oh, so you think he’s pretty. You sure you don’t have a crush on him?”

Dave makes a fake gagging sound. “Excuse you, I am loyal to my wife.”

“That poor woman.”

“Hey fuck you, y/n,” Dave sputters.

You laugh and pat his shoulder. “I’m kidding, I’m kidding, I’m sure you and your wife are very happy together.”

“We are, thank you. It’s actually our anniversary next week, fifteen years.”

You’re taken aback. You knew Dave was married, but you didn’t think he’d be married for that long. “Wow, that’s amazing, seriously, congratulations.”

He smiles and pulls out his phone, showing you dozens upon dozens of smiling photos of him and his family. “Thank you, thank you, I’m a lucky man. Wait, don’t you have a boyfriend? How long have you two been together?”

Oh yeah, your boyfriend… “Oh, umm, like almost a year.”

“Hey, that’s not too bad,” Dave smiles.

You cringe internally. Almost a year of feeling like maybe your boyfriend doesn’t actually like you, compounded by your fear of being alone, driving you to do whatever it took to keep him. “Yeah, yeah, he’s great.”

A loud crash, the sound of metal crashing to the floor, and a low swear draws your attention.

You and Dave rush out into the hallway to see Miguel trying to lift a massive filing cabinet up from the floor. It’s dented on one side, almost the size of a…fist?

“Miguel, shit man, what happened?” Dave asks, hurrying over to his side and helping him lift the cabinet back to its rightful place against the wall.

Miguel’s eyebrows are furrowed, his hair disheveled, the sleeves of his lab coat rolled up exposing his forearms, his large hands flexing and unflexing. “I—I don’t know, I was walking down the hall, and it just fell, nearly broke my foot.”

“I’m glad you’re not hurt.” You tell him, searching the bottom of the cabinet for any loose parts or crooked corners that might’ve contributed to the crash.

He smiles at you, that Don Juan, panty melting smile, his warm brown eyes focused solely on you, as if you’re the only person in the world, the only one worth paying any attention to. “I’m just glad it was me and not you—or Dave, I wouldn’t want either of you getting hurt.”

“Aw, Manuel, you care about us,” Dave teases, going right back to his hazing.

“We’re a team,” Miguel says simply, rolling his shoulders back.

For a moment you wonder what his back muscles look like underneath his coat, his shirts always seem so tight. Do they ripple under the fabric, is it stretched taut, his back droolworthy and broad?

“A team that’s finally heading home, isn’t that right, y/n?” Dave’s arm landing across your shoulders brings you back to reality.

“Yeah, yeah, closing time,” you say, hoping you weren’t blatantly staring at Miguel’s back.

“You two go ahead, I have some things I need to finish up.” Miguel says, waving you both off as he heads back to his office.

You drive home in the dark, warm streetlights lining the street, soft music playing from the stereo. Miguel never left with everyone else, he always stayed late, and was always there early, like before the sun got up early. You did not envy his sleep schedule.

Digging through your purse, you fish out your keys and unlock your apartment door, flicking on the lights and sighing happily. There’s nothing like finally getting home after a long day and just getting to relax. Nudging off your shoes, you go to heat up some leftovers, letting the mindless reality TV shows keep you semi-entertained until you feel sleep tugging at your limbs.

You go through the motions, shower, skincare, pajamas, make sure all the doors are locked, turn down the air conditioning, and turn off the lights. Settling into your bed, you toss and turn, that fist shaped dent in the filing cabinet still bothering you. Did you need to call maintenance, or file a complaint with the city to let them know? It’s not like they’d give your department a new cabinet just because it was a little damaged, but still, at least you can say you tried.

Finally, you begin to drift off to sleep, breathing evening out, your heart rate slowing, the stress of the day melting away. Your dreams come quickly, cotton candy sweet and nonsensical, until a familiar figure appears.

Miguel’s hand caresses your cheek, his voice low, murmuring something in a language you don’t understand. He pulls you closer, and you can feel the press of his skin against yours, the toned muscles beneath your touch.

“Mi tesoro, tócame.” Miguel whispers, taking your hand in his and sliding it down, down, down his chest, stopping at his waistband, the fabric soft, his skin burning. Trsl: My treasure, touch me.

You take hold of the waistband, fingers slipping beneath it, as Miguel dips his head down trailing his nose up your neck, inhaling deeply before groaning, his free hand a vice grip on your hip.

“Touch me.” He breathes, his lips against your ear, his hand guiding your lower, more smooth flesh meeting your fingertips.

You want to, you want to explore Miguel, to find out if the rumors are true, but a shrill ringing draws your attention away.

“Te quiero y/n, no dejes que otros me roben tu atención.” Miguel pleads, his voice low and desperate, the hand on your hip pulling you flush against him. Trsl: I want you, y/n, don’t let others steal your attention away from me.

But the ringing won’t stop, and soon you’re jolting awake, alarm clock blaring, the sun streaming in through your blinds.

You throw off your covers, cringing at the sticky wetness between your legs. Really y/n? That’s what gets you going?

After eating breakfast and getting ready for the day, you check your phone, a few texts from your friends, some work emails, and a voicemail from Todd.

Hey babe, so I’m out at this bar right, and the drinks are fucking great, but I was talking to these girls about our issues, you know your whole not really enjoying sex thing? And they gave me some great advice, I want to try it out next time, so tomorrow night I’ll be at your place, get that couch ready, we’re going to tear it up.

He talked to other girls about your relationship? About your intimacy issues? What the fuck? You start to type out an angry text message but delete it halfway through. He’s trying at least, and you did ask him to try.

Maybe you should just hear him out on this, maybe those girls gave him actual advice like: “stop violently rubbing her labia thinking it’s her clit or listen when she tells you where her clit actually is, or maybe don’t be a dick and just give up once you’ve finished, your girlfriend deserves to get off too.”

You type out a neutral response and send it, before tossing your phone in your bag and setting out for work.

This fic was inspired by @sassyposssumm's kinktober request which was such an interesting prompt that I knew it needed to be expanded on! Also since this is a vampire fic there will be some instances of slight dubcon, I'll put warning in the beginning for those chapters with *slight* details in case anyone is uncomfy and wants to skip.

Let me know if you want to be added to the taglist!

[satelliteduster]

new favorite image ever. please look at this fucker

[nocturnalghoul]

I need words, use your words

I had this thought about Mountain dealing with Aether leaving while driving to work yesterday and quickly wrote the entire outline out before I forgot then wrote it on break :)

Summary: Mountain also has his own emotions about Aether leaving and the fact that he didn't tell him ahead of time. Sure Aether considered Dew's feelings but not his and Mountain looses his cool for a bit. AKA, I once again am on my "yeah Dew and Aether are close cause of their extended past, but Mountain was there too y'all." bullshit

Words: 1553

Hurt/comfort, no warnings

Read below the cut or on AO3 here if you prefer that

Mountain sits calmly as Aether stands giving the announcement that he will no longer be touring to the entire pack. From his position leaned against the back of the couch he can see that nobody looks completely surprised, suspicions and rumors already having traveled through the grapevine. 

Still, everyone expresses sentiments of how much they will miss his presence on tour, and promises to find time to spend alone with the quintessence ghoul before everyone else heads out. 

Mountain plays his part in the moment, but deep down he is pissed. That particular sentiment can wait for a less public occasion he decides, and slinks off back to the greenhouse.

He spends the remainder of the day trapped in his own mind, planning to talk to the quintessence ghoul later that night when the two of them can speak privately in Aether’s room. 

Dinner seems to last forever. Mountain casts occasional glances towards Aether in between talking to Cirrus and Cumulus about something the two ghoulettes seem very excited about, but he doesn’t quite understand. Either way it’s a nice distraction, and the joy on their faces when he indulges their interests is always rewarding on its own. 

Each time he looks over at Aether he can’t help but notice the deafening silence coming from Dew next to him. Aether does his best to engage him in conversation or at the very least entwine their tails but to no avail. At least he knows Dew is currently pissed enough that he will have the quintessence ghoul to himself tonight. 

Eventually all the other ghouls settle into their various plans for the night and Mountain is free to make his way to Aether’s room. 

He takes one final deep breath before knocking firmly on the door with the special knock the two had developed. He hears a cheerful “Come on in Mount” from Aether and opens the door with more force than necessary, stepping through the entryway before closing it again with a loud click and making sure to engage the lock. 

Aether’s face is open and joyful at first, however Mountain watches the way it falls once the other ghoul takes in the aggravated handling of the door and the earth ghoul’s sour expression. Worry begins to knit on Aether’s brow as Mountain lets the previously masked smell of his irritation, like rotten wood and sulfur, permeate into the air within the small room.

“We need to talk, Aether” Mountain states plainly, moving to sit on the end of Aether’s bed not waiting for any further invitation. 

He vaguely is aware of the way the bottoms of his pants flake mud onto the bedspread but can’t be bothered to care. 

“Listen, I know Dew has to be upset but I told him in advance so he would have extra time to process it all.” Aether starts defensively, guiltily avoiding eye contact with the angry ghoul. There is genuine remorse on his face, however it only serves to make Mountain even more irritated. 

“This isn’t about him, Aeth.” he retorts, voice steely.

Aether glances up at him in shock and the two simply stare at each other for a long moment. Mountain sees the violet shade of the quintessence ghoul’s eyes darken slightly as he fully realizes why Mountain is actually here. 

“I- Oh… Mountain I’m so sorry. I didn’t think that-”

“That’s exactly the problem, you never fucking do!” Mountain interrupts, momentarily losing his hard fought composure. He sees the soft buds of butterfly weed fall from where they have manifested throughout his hair. 

He forces himself to take a deep breath as he takes in the way Aether is sat across from him in stunned silence, allowing him the space to speak his mind. 

“I get it, you and Dew are close. You are both there together at the front of the stage on tour while I’m stuck in the back. You were there to directly heal him and pump him full of quintessence after his transition, meanwhile I could only support him emotionally and keep sentinel.” 

Mountain can see the way that Aether wants to interrupt and tell him he is important to the both of them too but holds up a finger to stop him. 

“You two have been through so much together, but both seem to forget that I was there for all of it as well. Dew will still have Rain up front with him, he will have Cirrus to bitch with on the bus, me to climb into bed with whenever the nightmares feel too real and only somebody who was there will calm him down. Dew will be more than fine.” 

Mountain holds that same finger up again and forces himself to breathe as he scrunches his eyes closed so tight momentarily it takes a second for everything to come back into focus when he opens them again. The tears beginning to well up in his eyes likely do not help that fact, but Mountain is set to ignore them as long as he can. 

“The issue is with us, Aether. In fact, fuck here I said it wasn’t about Dew and yet I still am here fretting about him. Once again I shove my own feelings aside for you two’s various bullshit. He is so much stronger than either of us give him credit for, meanwhile I feel like I’m crumbling to dust.” Mountain half shouts before leaning forward to bury his head in his hands. 

He feels Aether reach out to grab his leg, squeezing comfortingly and letting out a deep sigh. 

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you ahead of time.” Aether finally mutters out, voice lightly laced with shame and the barest hint of embarrassment that nobody but Mountain or Dew would likely pick up on. 

“You didn’t tell me at all really. I found out from Rain. I’ve been waiting for the entire last week to see if you would tell me yourself and only finding out when you told everyone as if we all didn’t know already felt disrespectful.” Mountain spits out, not quite done being angry yet. 

Aether shoots him a mournful look. “I don’t know what you want from me, Evergreen” 

Mountain fully breaks down at the use of the pet name only him and Dew use, tears falling rapidly as his body is wracked with sobs. 

“I don’t want anything from you, I’m just fucking hurt. I am sick and tired of feeling like an afterthought.” he manages to choke out before shifting to collapse fully into Aether’s already open arms. 

The quintessence ghoul pulls him into a crushing hug, leaving him feeling so small and delicate in his strong grip. The two sit there like that for a while, the only sound sneaking through past Mountain’s wailing the occasional tick from the clock across the room. 

After several minutes Mountain’s breathing finally levels out and Aether slightly loosens his grip for the first time in order to unhook his chin from the earth ghoul’s shoulder and look him in the eye. “I love you so much, Evergreen, just as much as I love Dew. Please know this.” he whispers, trying not to break the first moment of calm since Mountain walked in. 

Mountain shrugs off Aether’s arms and retreats back to his original spot across from him, brushing the small flecks of dirt he left behind earlier off the bed. 

“It doesn’t feel like it sometimes. I realistically know that you, as well as Dew and the rest of the pack love me, but I feel like you never say it first Aether. It’s like you only ever say it back to me.” Mountain admits, picking out the small purple hyacinths spread throughout his hair now. 

He catches a glimpse of Aether’s face and it's clear he recognizes the sudden interest in the flowers for the avoidance tactic it is but lets it slide. 

Once all the flowers are gone he looks back up at the quintessence ghoul and finds him staring, waiting patiently for Mountain to be ready to continue. There is a spark in his eye that Mountain knows means he has thought up an idea he is proud of.

Aether invites Mountain to stay the remainder of the night with him, giving the two of them a chance to simply exist in one another's close company, but also hints that he will make plans for tomorrow. 

The two of them agree that after chores tomorrow, Aether would meet Mountain at the main greenhouse and whisk him away to plan out a night for just the two of them. 

Mountain feels a small amount of the negativity he had been carrying around all week chip and crumble away at the suggestion. 

“I’m still hurt, however I’ll gladly take the olive branch you are extending, Starlight” he concedes. 

Mountain watches as Aether’s posture straightens momentarily with excitement as he picks the small crop of olives that manifested at the base of Mountain’s horns out and places them on the nightstand with a light chuckle. 

The two spend the remainder of the evening curled up chatting, not a singular care about anything outside of those four walls. The issue at hand could never be resolved so simply, but both would agree that it is an enjoyable start. 

[milkywaydrabbles]

They already asked for breeding and dubcon separately, with Alucard and I wanted to ask for the same thing but both Indications for the same Alucard Castlevania. If it's not possible anymore, I still liked the ones you made. You have talent!

A/N: breeding and dubcon for Alucard equals babytrapping in my head, so that's kind of the direction I went with this! I hope this is okay, and that you enjoy!! MWUAH

Dubcon/breeding x Alucard

“Nng, Alucard wait--aah.” The dhampir had you pressed into the bed, face smothered within the pillows as he plowed into you from behind. His fangs were dripping with saliva, dragging against your skin. Alucard was already too far gone as he fucked you, hands gripping at your wrists with his entire body covering yours. “Don’t you love me, darling? Don’t you want me happy?” He’d taunt you, knowing you couldn’t say no to him. You’ve never been able to say no to him, not when he saved you from a life of torture and being used as a blood bag from a small collective of vampires. How could you say no to your savior, the one who lets you stay in his big castle, keeps you fed and clothed and bathed? 

Alucard tried hard, he really did, to not let his lust for you consume him. But it was so difficult, when you kept telling him you’d thank him in any way, begging him to let you do something for him. It was so hard, to not take you then and there, instead slowly building up to the perfect moment to capture your lips. He’d give you small and slow touches here and there, fingers lingering longer than they had to, eyes roaming your body so obviously he saw the heat settle on your features. He’d capture your lips one night, letting you feel in control, just this once, asking for a taste of your blood as you rode him in his bed. You nodded, exposing your neck to him as he drank--enough to get you lightheaded, but keeping you alive all the same. He fucked you harder after that, now understanding why those vampires wanted to keep you for themselves. It was the best meal he’d ever had--he didn’t drink blood, rather disliked the taste if he was being honest--but you were different.

He’d never let you go after that.

You whimpered under him, but pushed back to his thrusts as best you could, forcing himself deeper into your hole. “So good for me, sweetheart--making me so fucking happy.” He growled in your ear, feeling you clench around him with each sweet word that dripped from his tongue. He licked and suckled at the juncture of your neck that always stayed bruised with how often he fed from you. “You don’t mind if I indulge in your blood, do you my love?” You whined, but exposed yourself further to him, wincing when you felt his fangs pierce through your skin. You’ve learned that it hurts less while he fucks you, though the pain still throbs your veins after. 

Alucard leans back on his knees and brings you up with him, hands exploring the span of your body, finding purchase on your tits as he thrusts in and out of your pussy. “So good to me, always letting me do as I please, what a good girl.” He would whisper to you, to keep you riled up and feel you tighten around his cock some more. He slowed just enough to grind into you, pressing you deep onto his dick, nearly kissing at your cervix with his length. You whined against him, hands flexing as you gripped onto nothing. “Do you know what would make me the happiest, my sweet girl?” He teased, fingers pinching at your nipples as you gasped.

“Let me make you a mother, darling.” 

Your eyes flew open (when had you closed them?) and you felt panic shooting up your nerves. “Alucard, I-I don’t think I’m ready for tha--aah, fuck!” He began bucking his hips harder into yours again, hands coming down to hold onto your hips and fuck you down to meet him. One hand trailed back up, fingers wrapping around your throat cutting off most of your breathing as you were pounded from behind. “Of course you’re ready, you take care of me so well already--you’ll be a wonderful mother. I know you will.” He cooed, licking over the still bleeding wound of your neck. 

It was hard to argue with him, not when he was so kind to you outside of the bedroom, not when he spoke so sweetly to you as he fucked you so well. How could you argue, when he never asked anything of you, except to make you a mother? “You’ll let me, right darling?” He wasn’t really asking, he’d do it anyways. He’d convince you later if he had to. But he didn’t need to, not when you were nodding and clenching around him--ready to milk him dry. He groaned, tightening on your throat as he humped into you like a dog, climbing closer and closer to release until he was spilling deep inside your cunt, praying it made it directly into your womb to catch. 

He would keep you plugged up, day in and day out after this. You’d never be able to leave now. Not when you carried his child, not when he would protect the both of you. You’d be his forever.

[grimmbunniee]

The feminine urge to write a reincarnation Au with Alucard, where he sees the love of life like 200 years later. Like originally she was apart of the monster hunter trio in Castlevania. Maybe she was witch but was mortal. Idk but I’m obsessed with magic user. So she’ll probably be witch again. Maybe I’ll add in that she’s been having dreams of her past life with Alucard. Idk just angst for Alucard(my little pookie I’m sorry for doing this too you). Because imagine the life of your life dying only to see her like 200 years later. Maybe Alucard’s slowly starting to forget what she sounds like and he only has miniature painting of her that he keeps with him at all times to remember her by. I’d have to watch Castlevania nocturne tho and I’m kinda busy this weekend. I’d maybe I’ll make her day job like an opera singer because those where big in that era of France.

(Also she’s gonna be black because I’m black also because this is my blog and I said so. )

Kinda tempted to make her insanely good at magic but also an absolute girlfailure.

Me ready to make Alucard’s life even more stressful

Edit: I’m brainstorming ideas on how to do the readers magic and I figured how her magic works is by speaking spells backwards, yes I’m stealing that idea from DC, but Annette is descended from Gods so I can do this okay 😭. Also the reader is gonna have a familiar. She can do magic with saying things backwards but finds it easier to do so.

[devis-nonsense-n-shitposting]

Yet again posting about Castlevania Nocturne again because this show has an iron grip on my brain.

I've seen some Castlevania 'Purists' complain about Annette being different than in the games and I am. So so baffled. Nocturnes Anette is so much more interesting and fascinating than the original Annette was ever and could ever be. She's not even really a character in Rondo of Blood for crying out loud! She only exists in the games to be the damsel in distress and prize for Richter to get at the end of the game. She is not a character. But now that she finally gets to be a character people get pissy because "She's not like how she is in the games" when the real reason they're mad is they can't handle seeing a badass woman of color standing up for herself.

And while talking about Annette, I'd like to take a moment to appreciate how we're getting to see more than just the Revolution in France. As someone who has a fascination in the French Revolution, I really liked how they're also bringing up the Revolution in Hati (saint-domingue) as we tend to just focus on what was going on in Europe and France at this time, but important Revolutions were also going on all across Frances holdings that still effect what's going on. And getting to see it from the perspective of Annette, a former slave who liberated herself and helped in the Revolution is really cool, especially getting to see her Yoruba heritage from her parents, and her religion. It's also neat to see Hati Creole being used. While this show does have some flaws, Annette is not one of them, and if you're having trouble accepting that then. Idk what to tell you

Anyway back to obsessing over Alucard (and also Juste Belmont)

[nickgoesinsane]

Thinking about laying back and watching Olrox ride you. His thick, brown thighs bracketing your sides as he moves over you. His long hair falling like a dark waterfall around you, his earrings clinking as he swivels his hips. He catches his bottom lip between his teeth, on the verge of drawing blood, when your cock drags deliciously against his prostate. You lean up to kiss it free, one of your hands coming up to cradle his face, and flick your tongue against the dangerous points of his fangs.

Olrox moans softly, ghosting his claws over your chest, and twists his head to let you delve deeper into his mouth. You’re rewarded with a low hiss when you curl the fingers of your free hand around his cock, swiping the pad of your thumb over the slick head. The rocking of his hips quickens, and you match the pace with the gliding of your loose fist over his cock. It throbs in your palm, wet with the precum dribbling from the slit.

Olrox trails his mouth over your neck, his breath fanning over your warm skin. It’s an unspoken question, and you tilt your head in reply. His teeth sting as they press against the meat of your shoulder, and he lets out a long groan when the taste of your blood seeps into his mouth. He clenches tight around you, drawing an echoing sound of pleasure from you as you spill inside him. Your hand and stomach are coated in his own release, smearing when Olrox keeps moving his hips— slow, to ride out the shared orgasm.

“Fucking divine.” He utters against your skin, laving the small wound in broad tongued licks and open mouthed kisses.

[demigoddessqueens]

drive-in dalliance

SUMMARY: you and your hot date for the night have a little inspiration from the local drive-in theater

WARNINGS/TAGS: 18+, NSFW/SMUT

A/n - here and on ao3

You thought it sweet of him to treat you to such a night. Call your love a bit old fashioned, but Adrian knew what it took to set the mood for the night.

He had noticed that you had been eyeing the city’s new drive thru theater and surprised you for an intimate date night. Quiet, low-key, and a bit of a space all for the two of you. Maybe it was the mood set by the vintage flick and alluring atmosphere, or the cheap wine you both snuck in for this night, but everything just felt perfect.

Perhaps a little too perfect for your liking. The ambience of the night and romantice scenes from said movie left your mind wandering to what else was present.

Or rather who you would rather recreate a scene or two with.

It started off with a few neck kisses that you peppered along his cheek. Then you moved along his neck and bob of his Adam’s apple as your hands gathered in his hair.

“Love…mhhm..w-wait, the movie – mhhn…fuck--.”

Undeterred, you kept on as you kissed along his neck and lips, palming the growing bulge that was starting to brush along your leg. Chills creeped along his back when your voice whispered in his ear.

“I know, but this movie is giving me some ideas…”

As much as he was trying to keep his focus on screen, Adrian’s resolve disintegrated the more your body brushed against his. Letting the last of defenses fall, Adrian coaxed you both to the back of the car. Kisses and touches became more heated as he bottomed for you, whining for more as your touch when you grinded against him.

He started to grow more impatient and growled in frustration as he removed your blouse, pushing away the lace bra you had for this night to where he could feel your breasts.

Skirt hiked up and pants drawn down past his hip bones, you grasped the pink cock between his legs. Teasing just the tip along your entrance threatened to rip the loudest moan from the man, but he dug his nails into your sides instead.

“N-no! Not like that! I—need!”

A slow smile crept along your face, your voice keeping an innocent tone, as a hand stroked him instead.

“What do you need, Adrian?”

The blond tried to gather himself in a somewhat dignified manner before attempting to speak.

“I need you to fuck me. Please. Just ride me. But don’t let them see us! I don’t want the car to shake…”

You leaned down to kiss him silent, lacing your hand in between his as a sign of reassurance.

“I’ll be gentle, baby, don’t worry. You ready for me?”

Once, twice. He swallowed to try and catch his breath before nodding for your approval. Slowly lowering yourself onto him, both of you gasped when he was sheathed inside of you. No matter how many times you did this, you never got tired of feeling full of him.

Looking up at you, Adrian swore he was witnessing heaven a thousand times over whenever he was inside of you.

To you, he was prettier than when this date night had started. Moaning out your name, holding onto your hips or the car door, releasing all the pent-up emotions he had was such an erotic display to you. Even underneath you, Adrian was determined to give you all the pleasure he knew you deserved.

Bucking up his hips to meet yours, he could feel himself teetering that edge but kept grinding into you. Whenever you leaned down to kiss him, it was slow and hard that made you clench tighter around him. Adrian was also generous enough to nick and mark your chest whenever he wanted to be in your arms more.

“So wet, so warm,” was all he could manage before the moans started to get louder. Feeling him twitch inside of you, you knew he was not long after you.

“I – I can’t las—st-!” Throwing his head back, you could see Adrian’s eyes screw shut as he tried to keep his orgasm at bay.

“Cum for me baby, please, I want you to!”

Steeling himself again, Adrian tried to gain that sensation he was chasing. Fire burned through his arms and legs as he mustered the last few thrusts to match your own. Yet you both kept moving as heat grew numb from exertion. Oh you were so, so close.

Finally, the budding sensation broke through the dam and you both cried out in ecstasy. Adrian spilling himself inside of you sent shocks through your body, making you both overstimulate in each other’s touch.

Exhaustion took over you and you fell into Adrian’s toned chest as he held onto you, kissing the crown of your head. As soon as you both had come down from your high, there was a flicker from the car lights next to you both.

Adrian muttered an embarrassed “oh god” before hiding his blushed face in the crook of your neck. Knowing what it meant, you hid your laugh in the crook of Adrian’s shoulder much to his mortification.

“Seems we gathered an audience.”