#richter hearing about his family from alucard feeling the same way people feel when I explain riverdale plotpoints

[rivercule]

Richter: who are you

Alucard: I had many a threeway with your grandparents

[aquilaofarkham]

title: vibas luxuri homo bone rating: general  word count: 2,892 summary: set shortly after the events of Symphony of the Night, Alucard is still trying to adjust to his new life with Maria, Richter, and humans in general. He also decides to pay two very, very old friends a visit.

“Why did you decide to stay? You barely know us and we barely know you. Why do you care so much?”

Richter’s questions are blunt and hit all of Alucard’s softest points. But they are not malicious or come with any ill intentions. Glancing at Maria, the dhampir can tell that she wishes to know as well. No more half-truths.

“Because you remind me of two humans I loved a long time ago.”

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--

I’m still not entirely certain about this plan.

Alucard has been repeating this one thought ever since they left the Belmont manor. When Maria Renard suggested that the three of them take advantage of the lovely weather, he assumed she meant something else entirely. The vision Alucard had in his mind was a simple walk throughout the grounds or extensive gardens surrounding their shared home. He did not expect a crowded marketplace filled with shop keeps, artisans, and farmers selling their freshest crops.

Apparently neither did Richter, for he looks just as anxious as the dhampir does. Alucard understands why and sympathizes with him completely. It’s not just the people who are overwhelming, it’s every sound of the market: dogs barking, merchants shouting, and carriages driving atop uneven cobblestones. The two men try to stay close to Maria as she leads them through the streets. Still their fearless leader even in the most mundane of situations.

“What do you think of this one?”

“It looks too dull,” Alucard replies. Richter merely shrugs, something that is uncharacteristic of him.

“How about this?”

“That one is far too gaudy.”

“It’s not the appearance that matters.” Maria rebukes, carefully placing the rose-coloured quartz amulet in her palm along with others all boasting their own unique properties. She withdraws a purse from her belt, shifting through the coins before handing the vendor a large amount. The stones aren’t only for herself; they’re for her two closest companions as well. Hopefully they will provide protection, good dreams, or just some peace of mind. God knows they need it.

It hasn’t been easy, but then again nothing ever is.

Alucard clings to his humans as they make their way from merchant to merchant. So much has changed in his absence; he hopes it has been for the better. Despite the intimidation of such a large gathering, Alucard finds the marketplace fascinating. There’s a small amount of enjoyment in catching brief glimpses as families, couples, children, elders, and foreigners come and go as they please. It reaffirms his love of humanity. Although he has struggled with this love (understandably so), Alucard keeps days like this as reminders. Why he, after three hundred years of regret over an ill-informed decision, finally made the choice to live among his mother’s kind.

It’s not long before something distracts the dhampir. A sudden cry muffled by dozens of other voices. Though to him, it rings louder than anyone else, coming from someone very young and very upset. Alucard searches past the crowds and sees a little girl on the other side of the wide street wearing a brown dress with embroidered flowers. Two older and much larger boys surround her; one dangles a hand-sewn doll above her head while his friend laughs at the girl’s many attempts to grab it.

“That’s mine! Give it back!”

“Like to see you try, runt!” The boy scoffs, holding her down with just one hand.

“I said give it back!”

“Or else what?”

Just as the girl feebly reaches for her doll, the bullies push her to the ground. Alucard hears their ugly snorts of amusement and sees the tears already rolling down her face. They try to run, but the dhampir is faster. Before the boy with the doll can take another step, he appears behind him and grabs the back of his shirt collar. The other one manages to get away, not even bothering to look over his shoulder and check if his friend is still behind him. It doesn’t take much to terrify the little thief; a single concentrated, blood-curdling glare is all Alucard needs. The boy opens his mouth, perhaps to scream or apologize, but all he can force out is a series of stunned gasps.

“That doesn’t belong to you.” Alucard’s tone, while calm, is laced with malice, sounding more like a threat than a simple statement. Without breaking eye contact, he takes the doll out of the boy’s hand and lets him go. He runs faster than a rabbit fleeing from a fox. Alucard wonders if he scared him too much, but it’s only for a moment - a brief one at that. He walks back to the girl who is still on the ground, wiping her tearful eyes.

“I believe this is yours.”

She looks up, uncertain at first, and sees Alucard offering her the doll, his appearance gentle and comforting. Her eyes light up as she takes it and hugs it close against her chest. Alucard smiles, helping the girl onto her feet. He doesn’t need a thank you, her overjoyed expression is enough for him.

“Your hair is so pretty!” She says abruptly. “Are you a prince?”

This isn’t the first time Alucard feels caught off guard and now that he lives permanently with humans, it most certainly won’t be the last. “I... well...” He could play along or tell her a half truth. That he is (or rather was) the son of a lord but before he can say a word, the girl grabs hold of his shirtsleeve.

“Come with me!” She brings Alucard over to a vendor occupied by a man with a white beard encircled by half-finished canvases, sketchbooks, and paintbrushes well past their prime. His fingertips are stained with everything from charcoal to watercolours. Upon seeing the little girl, a look of concern appears in his crinkled eyes.

“Shoshana, I told you not to wander off without telling me.”

“Zaide, look! A prince helped get my doll back! Isn’t he pretty?”

Alucard tells himself not to panic, as much as he wants to. Three hundred years of slumber have undoubtedly taken their toll on his social skills. “That’s... very kind of you, but-”

“She’s right, sir. If you don’t mind me saying.” The older man gently chuckles. “I see my granddaughter Shoshana has already introduced herself. My apologies, young man. She is easily excitable and often forgets that sometimes strangers do not like to be dragged around against their wishes.” He says this while looking directly at Shoshana. She turns her gaze to the ground, feeling a touch ashamed.

“No apology is needed.” Shoshana’s mood quickly shifts as she stares up at Alucard with a smile. There’s the ever-lingering fear that he will saying the wrong thing or open his mouth too wide and reveal his true heritage. So, Alucard keeps his words brief. He thinks it might be better returning to Maria and Richter. Yet that love and fascination with humans overcomes any cautious thought. “I see you are an artist.”

“More a simple tailor than an artist. It’s a diversion from my regular work and occasionally gets me a place in markets like this.”

Alucard looks over each canvas and parchment; everything from a vast landscape to an intimate portrait comes to life through colour and brushstroke. “You’re very talented.”

“And you’re too kind, sir. Actually... no, nevermind.”

“What is it?”

“I don’t want to be a bother.”

“It would be no bother.”

“Well, would it be too forward of me to ask if I can paint a portrait of you? It’s just that I find beautiful people to be the best subjects.”

“Is that why you paint everyone, Zaide?” While the artist laughs at Shoshana’s comment, Alucard contemplates his request. Not too long ago, he thought he would live with humanity the same way a ghost does, showing himself only when need be. He never expected something like this, especially so soon. Yet despite all this, he agrees. After paying the artist generously, he prepares a fresh canvas, the perfect size for a portrait. Alucard takes a seat and waits for any further guidance while Shoshana plays with her doll.

“Turn your head to the side... a little bit more... there, that’s wonderful. Now if you could take your hair and place it in front of your shoulder.” Alucard follows the painter’s instructions to the best of his ability. He notices how his soft hair has grown much longer and wavier. Its’ also gained back some of its colour, changing from a lifeless white into a light gold, ever since the dhampir emerged from his coffin. Once the painter is satisfied with his subject’s position, he begins mixing colours and makes the first stroke on the canvas.

Throughout this process, Alucard is extraordinarily patient and immoveable. Two things which were very much unknown to him one time he had his portrait taken - an old memory that has remained untouched by the centuries. As the artist concentrates, glancing up occasionally, Alucard is taken back to the day when that very first painting of his life was created. It was a time when he was taught not to be afraid of shadows, and castle walls breathed with a soul of their own. When “home” meant safety, trust, and love. It should be a memory that gives him comfort or at least some bittersweet nostalgia. He wishes it would, just to quell his worry of whether or not he still has a heart. But it’s been far too long and too much has happened. And no amount of sadness changes the serene expression on his face.

“There, all finished.” The artist announces triumphantly. He takes one last proud look at the canvas before turning it around. “What’s your opinion? I tried to capture as much of your likeness as possible, but... to be quite honest it was like painting the sun.”

Alucard relaxes his body and carefully takes the painting, struggling to say anything. In every portrait, he has been portrayed as the perfect balance between his mother and father - innocent, regal, sometimes intimidating. Never like this, never so humble, so contemplative, or so... human.

“It’s beautiful,” he whispers. Realizing what he just said, Alucard lowers his gaze. The artist laughs.

“It’s alright! It’s not narcissistic to say that.”

“Thank you.”

“I should be thanking you for your kind patronage. Let me wrap that up for you.”

After the portrait is safely packages, Alucard says his good-byes to the artist and Shoshana. He walks back through the marketplace wondering where it should be hung in his new home. The dhampir’s thoughts are interrupted when he sees Maria heading towards him with Richter tagging behind.

“There you are,” she exclaims. “You had us worried!”

“My apologies. I was... distracted.”

“Wouldn’t be the first time. Oh, what might that be?” Maria asks, pointing curiously to the brown envelope that’s as big as his upper body.

“A gift. For myself.” Alucard awkwardly clutches the portrait in his hands. His attention shifts to Richter who refuses to make eye contact. In the (admittedly) short amount of time that Alucard has known him, the young Belmont mostly keeps to himself, favouring quietness. Not unfriendly, just quiet. Still, it’s enough to concern the dhampir. Maria also notices Richter’s behaviour. How could she not? He’s nothing less than the older brother she never had.

“Come. Let’s get away from these crowds.” With Alucard leading the way, Maria gently takes Richter’s hand and pulls him along. There’s confusion, but he does not protest. The three of them walk down the steps of a nearby alleyway until they arrive at a much smaller and practically deserted street. Maria decides to break the tension herself.

“Are you alright?”

They’ve asked him that question before - multiple times. While his choice of words always vary, Richter’s answer remains the same. “Of course I am.” “I’m fine, I promise.” “I’m just tired, nothing to worry about.” Those are good days. Then there are the days filled with “leave me alone”.

“Do we have to do this with all those people around?”

“We can go home,” Maria reassures him. There’s a look in her eyes that says, “this is my fault. I should never have put you through this.”

“Good. Then no one has to see me.”

“What do you mean?”

“You’ve seen the way people look at me.” With every sentence, Richter’s voice wavers, causing another ache in Alucard’s chest. He’s seen this sort of emotion with another Belmont and it hurts all the same. Every thought he’s ever had of Trevor hurts with longing.

“It just... it doesn’t feel right being around the people I once protected. Not after what I did.”

“Richter...” Maria begins, her voice softer. “It wasn’t you. You had no control over that.”

“It was still me. It was still by my hand. I can’t even use my whip anymore.”

“That wasn’t your fault. None of it was.” Alucard tries to offer his support, but Richter says nothing. He avoids the dhampir’s eyes, opening then closing his mouth as though he cannot bring himself to say what’s truly on his mind. Alucard and Maria wait, never pushing him. Never using force. Finally, he raises his head.

“Why did you decide to stay? You barely know us, and we barely know you. Why do you care so much?”

Richter’s questions are blunt and hit all of Alucard’s softest points. But they are not malicious or come with any ill intentions. Glancing at Maria, the dhampir can tell that she wishes to know as well. No more half-truths.

“Because you remind me of two humans I loved a long time ago.”

It’s a weight off his chest. Judging from the look of shock on both Maria and Richter’s faces, it might have been a poor decision. Yet it is the truth; they deserve that much. Alucard braces himself for their responses, whether they uneasily walk away or berate him for living in the past. The first comes from Richter in the form of him giving his hand to Alucard. He stares at it, puzzled, but accepts.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.”

Alucard can feel him trembling. He offers him one more piece of comfort by placing his palm upon Richter’s cheek. The Belmont once again lowers his head but does not pull away. Leaning forward, Alucard closes his eyes, and softly kisses Richter’s forehead. It isn’t the first time he’s done this. But as long as there are those who need him, as long as there are humans in this world that he loves, Alucard will not deny himself or others of affection.

They turn to Maria, who gives them a weary yet loving smile. “Let’s go home.”

--

THREE DAYS AFTER

When visitors to the Belmont Cemetery arrive at the front gates, they are greeted by a single straight path guiding them deep into the woods. Standing guard on either side are stone statues of warriors who have long since passed. It’s a peaceful place, not one of sorrow but of remembrance. The Belmonts have always willingly put themselves in death’s way for they do not fear what awaits them beyond the veil. For their bravery, deeds, and compassion, it is only natural to celebrate them in life and death.

Alucard walks alongside his horse further and further into the cemetery. While it is a grey autumn day, the skies are not entirely dark and not all the flowers have died yet, making way for the first snowfall. Out of the corner of his eye, he spots a few small butterflies moving through the rows of gravestones. He carries on, slow and leisurely.

Eventually, Alucard comes across a hill. He must be on the right path. Reaching into his large bag, he pulls out an apple and gives it to the horse before tying it to a nearby tree. He looks up and begins his upward trek. Any normal human being would feel the weight of the bag straining against their shoulder but for Alucard, it’s barely an inconvenience. When he makes it to the very top, the first thing he sees is the sweeping vista of the greater Wallachian countryside. The next thing he sees is the very reason why he decided to come here. Two large gravestones not only old, but ancient.

He walks towards them; despite nature reclaiming the stones, they look to be in fair condition. Alucard is surprised, but also relieved. He brushes a few strands of vine away, revealing the occupants of this isolated, special gravesite: Trevor Belmont and Sypha Belnades. Engraved below their names are the words “In times of despair, there is always hope”.

“I’m sorry I took so long.” Alucard says, trying and failing to make this reunion less heart-rending than it already is. Raising his hand to his lips, he kisses his fingertips, placing them on Trevor’s grave first then Sypha’s. Only one word comes to Alucard’s mind: selfish. He was so selfish to leave them. He’ll never see their faces again or hear their laughter. His stomach clenches as the lump in his throat grows.

Now is not the time for tears. Wiping his eyes, Alucard reaches back into his bag and offers the graves two white roses. His and his mother’s favourite. He then pulls out three glasses along with a bottle of red wine. “I couldn’t find any ale.” He mutters, staring down at Trevor. Once all of them have been filled, the dhampir arranges the first two on top of the stones before sitting on a soft patch of grass with his own.

He takes a sip and looks out towards the horizon. Off in the distance, he can see the Belmont manor standing strong. A calm breeze rustles the branches sheltering Alucard as it blows through his hair.