Romans & histoires Alucard Hellsing Fanart

Now curious as to why he was looking at it, I slowly turned to the large frame handing on the wall by a suit of armour. Although partially obscured by the low light, I managed to see what was on the picture. It looked like a painting, depicting a scene of battle—a large werewolf in its true form running towards an army with other wolves following behind it. Somehow, the werewolf had a sort of striking resemblance with Alpha Alaric.

Shadows crept at the edges of the torches, stretching unnaturally long, swallowing the light. “He’s here,” Selene whispered, her voice raw with dread. “Alaric.” The ridge erupted. From the tree line, wolves cloaked in blood sigils burst forth—Alaric’s cult, bodies marked with black runes, eyes glazed with crimson rage. Their howls were distorted, broken, as if their very souls had been warped. At their head strode Alaric himself, gaunt and wild-eyed, his body streaked with crimson paint. He carried no weapon, only the pulsing mark on his chest: a curse that writhed like living flame.

And from the way he was acting it was indeed that way “Splendid! You truly are a worthy adversary!” Alucard chortled. With a violent twist Alucard pulled his arm back into place and wiped the blood off his lips. The sound of bones creaking were heard as Alucard displayed his insane healing abilities, reconnecting his bones and healing his internal injuries on the spot.

Feelings of dread came over her and she could feel her heart in her throat. Ally knew when she flipped the switch there would be another birthday surprise she wasn’t going to be able to handle. She flipped it anyways. Another great masterpiece painted by the late Leonardo da Vinci creeped into her mind, Last Supper, but the Rob Zombie edition. The birthday decorations where all still there. In fact, someone took great care to arrange all of the bodies in the chairs. Some were wearing party hats, other had noise makers in their mouths. Looking at the floor she saw Jeremy’s hair tousled and matted with blood. He was missing his arm, the one that sent her over the edge this morning. He wa

He rose then, slow and measured, and walked a few paces toward the window overlooking the dark grounds outside the castle. “The death of a son of war has consequences,” he said. “Politics, bloodline loyalties, divine attention. Some of those consequences will not remain on campus.” Celeste didn’t miss the warning hidden in the statement. “I’m aware.” Alucard turned slightly. “Are you prepared?” Her reply came immediately. “I would not have come otherwise.” For a brief moment, something like approval crossed his face. “Good.” *** When the formal questions were finished, the atmosphere shifted a degree.

I looked up at him and let myself believe it, just for a breath. Damien Cross stood above me on the raised stone platform, moonlight carving hard lines down the side of his jaw, his eyes gone the color of amber caught too close to a flame. My mate. My Alpha. The same boy who used to press stolen honeycomb into my palm before pack politics taught him to measure every single word before it left his mouth. He wasn't measuring anything now. He wasn't saying anything at all, and the not-saying went on a beat too long.

he paused chuckling at the way my heart beat raggedly against its ribcage. “Fuck you!” I spat giving him a knee jack in the place where the sun doesn’t shine before running off while placing my hand on my chest trying to steady my racing heart. Who the hell was that guy? And why was I feeling beneath him? Could he be an Alpha? Nope. Not. I manage to get myself home in one piece ignoring the greetings I got from the servant and weird looks at my infused shoulder. I took slow steps towards the stairs inwardly praying that I don’t come across my uncle or aunt, I already had too much for the day.

Yes, she can see him angry but not the change in his eye color. He didn’t even transform, so the rumor was true. The ruthless Alpha King of The Blue Moon pack has the devil’s eyes. He was more dangerous and superior with his bloodshot, raging eyes. “Y-Your... eyes. . .” Emily uttered, trembling. “So, the rumor is true,” Emily added, couldn’t believe what she was seeing. “Yes, it’s true. The rumors were true, Emily,” he answered nonchalantly. “I have the devil’s eyes that everyone fears.”

He asked, glaring at me, and I smiled, my smile both cold and sarcastic as I fought back punching the man in the face. “The same fucking game that you are putting me through, Alpha Alessandro D’Almerita.” I said, keeping my eyes on his. “You seem to forget that I am not the human that you want to toy around with before throwing aside, and I am not the Luna that is fighting for your attention. You and your fucking attention can rot in hell, as for your Lycan…” “I did not send Alaric to you, Valerie.” He said, and I scoffed.

Yet, he had the power to smile past that horrible scar. "This...is how I used to look when I was myself." Says Lucien. It's been only a few minutes into his detailing over the sketch. Raya had never seen such a skilled artisan in her life. She takes the photo, the sketch of the male himself. "Wow..." she says softly. The A3 size paper was clipped off from the stand. Lucien presents the paper to Raya, sighing gently. The vampire-Basilisk stares at the picture drawn like a cat watching the fishes in a tank. She was engrossed with the simplicity of his features.