Sketch Drawn By Hirano Involving A Certain Song To Celebrate The Ending Of The Manga. From The 2012 Official

If Alucard possesses the knowledge of each of his millions of souls, does he also know every language they knew? So is he like Neo where if he wants a new skill like a language, he can just download drink a person who he knows has it?

Serious question from a Hellsing noob.

Oh but come on, Alucard's dead. What is he going to do? Get me pregnant or give me an STD? Wait, was the issue the part where he's dead? 🤣

I let my pussy make my decisions, call that clitical thinking

A Night for Hunting Poll

I was staring at a pic of Vladcard and then BOOM! Horny! The mind started running with a potential Interlude 3, I'm thinking for Ch.18. If people aren't interested, I'll just keep my fantasy to myself and let it run wild.

A Night for Hunting Ch.3- Alucard

T/W: 18+, Alucard (Ultimate) x F!Reader, he is a horny creep, yandere, stalker, trespassing, no smut, noncon touch, fear play, sexual harassment, rape mentioned (but no rape).

Words: 2174 On AO3

The vampire plopped onto the couch where you were seated moments ago and stared at you expectantly. This was too uncomfortable. Not only did he follow you home at night, now he also took to trespassing into your home, which was once your only safe haven from him. You had plans to wash some fruits for your novel-reading time to finish up the day since you didn’t have work tonight. What now? Was he only going to stare? Not knowing what to do, you remained near the door with your back to a wall and stared back in dismay.

At least he wasn’t covered in blood this time. It took an absurd amount of effort and research into various at-home methods to remove the majority of the blood he left on your couch the last time he squeezed in. If you looked very closely, the faint residuals of the blood stains were still visible.

“Why didn’t you run last week?” The vampire began with a smirk. The depraved beast must have been looking forward to the chase again, to making you gasp for breath and cry. Standing up straighter, you pledged not to give him that satisfaction anymore.

“I’m tired of running.”

“Were you not frightened?” He inquired with a raised brow, folding gloved hands over his lap.

“You’re the one constantly sniffing the air. You know I’m aghast by your presence. I’d rather you leave, but what can I do?” Oh, you just wanted to read your book and escape all of this.

It was like you told him a funny joke and he chuckled smugly as he placed his hat to the side along with his sunglasses. Golden-orange pools swirled as his eyes met yours. They were a different colour? "I only wish to observe you. I will not interfere with your night." 

That was blatantly a lie. He was already doing plenty to mess with your night. Your lips formed a taut line, which your unwanted guest’s smiling eyes went to immediately. You snapped.

"Don't you have better things to do than to stalk some nameless woman? Someone to shoot?" You eyed the two gleaming weapons that were poorly concealed in distress and shivered. Why does a vampire need guns? "Some poor soul to bite?" 

For some reason, this monster insisted on coming to terrorize you, whether that was by stalking you through the night or invading your home. And for some reason, he didn’t kill or bite you despite his twisted nature and the seasons passing. He spent quite a lot of time on you. Why me?

You didn’t expect him to reply, but he did maintain the face-splitting grin. All was silent except for the air conditioner coming on. Keeping one eye on him, you shuffled past his seated form to retrieve your reading material and snack. You settled on the other couch because your favourite spot was occupied by the intruder.

Pulling up a plush blanket, you threw some grapes into your mouth and flipped to where you left off to start reading. 

--------------------

The minutes turned to hours.

True to his word, all he did was watch you, but he was a HUGE bother. It was spooky to have inhuman eyes track your every move as you took bathroom breaks and refilled your beverage. You couldn’t even focus on the story despite reading the same lines repeatedly. 

There were dark bags under your eyes from the lack of rest and you sagged in the cushy seat, but you didn’t want to lose your precious night off because of this unbidden guest. Stifling a yawn, you got up to prepare tea for yourself, getting out your favourite tea set and loose leaves to steep.

It was an Oriental black tea, his sensitive nose could differentiate. So you wanted something strong tonight, something that’ll keep you up? The vampire was comfortable on the couch, even if it was small for him. Your body heat seeped into him from the cushions and he was surrounded by your scent. He leaned back to stare at you through hooded eyes.

He had watched you flip the pages, pleased with the knowledge of your thoughts jumbling as you fruitlessly tried to ignore him and absorb the plot. He heard your drizzling stream when you relieved yourself in the bathroom. He observed how you licked your lips after taking sips from your drink, the way your gaze repeatedly flickered up in his direction to ensure no misbehaviour on his part. He scented the air and basked in your discomfort, relishing in how your heart thumped adorably quick. He wanted to touch you.

He appeared behind you in the kitchen and you jumped, nearly dropping the delicate glass and scalding yourself with burning liquid if he didn’t catch your hand in time. “Careful, little one,” he murmured. His light touch tightened after he helped you set down the fragile teapot. “Were you not going to offer your guest a drink?” You froze in shock, nails digging into the pads of your palms.

He pressed close and rumbled deeply, nuzzling the back of your head. The air conditioner fizzed off as he traced small circles on the back of your hand. The vague sound of laughter and cheers of your neighbour’s visitors carried into your unit as another door slammed shut from down the hall.

"I long for the company of a woman. It has been long since I indulged in the pleasures of human flesh." He sighed and guided your hips around so you faced him. He towered over you, the mesmerizing pits of orange and yellow continuing to spin as you locked eyes. So beautiful. Like you could fall into them forever.

"It's no wonder you have to force your company on one," you hissed at him in displeasure, though you felt no bravado. You were paralyzed with fear at the realization－this was it, why he plagued you all these months. The beast was going to rape you. You had to fight, you had to fight.

It had been too long since he last fed from the warm veins of a human, or plunged into one’s heated depths. He ached with need, caging you against the countertop with lanky arms, and you arched your back in a futile attempt to pull away to put distance between your faces. He was smiling again when he placed a silky gloved hand behind your head to pull you closer. You took quick, shallow breaths, your heart now hammering against your ribs, the hairs on your skin standing on end as his face came inches from yours. He blinked slowly, his sultry gaze running up and down to study your features. 

…The warm whites of the kitchen lights caught his sharp visage, casting shadows over the ridge of his cheekbones and hollows of his eyes. His jaw was strong and well-defined. His lashes were so long, his look too suggestive. To be honest, the creature was strikingly handsome when his face wasn’t twisted into that sadistic grin.

"Oh?" He read your mind and snickered. "You think I'm handsome?" He looked much too pleased, as if he needed any confirmation. Any sighted person can attest to this being’s unholy beauty.

Don’t look at him! Recalling your past experiences of him charming you into immobility during his hunts, you clenched your eyes and began to hyperventilate. He wasn’t hypnotizing you this time, but your body was shutting down, unable to muster up the resolve to try to fight or flee. You only stood rooted to your spot in a dreamlike state, distantly experiencing what was occurring as if it was happening to someone else. The vampire could just force himself on you and there was nothing you could do to protect yourself.

The nightwalker frowned, knowing that you were assuming the worst from him, but he couldn’t help but spoil himself with a taste. How was it possible that anyone would smell this mouthwatering?

He stuck his face into your neck and inhaled, then licked at your throat whilst running his palms down your sides, all the way past your thighs to wrap around the backs of your knees. He purred. Your breath caught, so filled with fear you didn't dare breathe or look up at him. 

You tolerated his touch as he stroked down your legs and back up to caress your abdomen through your clothes. You tolerated the obscene wet muscle dancing across your throat, the husky sounds of him breathing you in.

You were just plain scared. The vampire didn’t catch the heady fragrance of arousal at all.

Tears trickled down your face, which the vampire eagerly lapped up. You braved peeking out at the floor, although your abuser took up most of your field of vision. "Are you going to bite me now?" 

He paused to deliberate the question. "Not unless you'd like me to. Tell me, do you fancy vampires, Dear?" His voice was sensual, rolling over you in a wave and causing you to tremble, if only it weren’t for the blasphemy of the question.

What?

The monster continued, easily disregarding the impropriety of his inquiry. "I enjoy when you scream. You have the most captivating voice. I can make you scream a different tune if you are willing," he pronounced in a coy manner. Your eyes finally lifted back to him in shock.

“I will not do something as distasteful as forcing you.” He was shameless with his outrageous flirtation (harassment). The resonant bass of his voice reverberated in your chest. “Allow me to show you a good time. I shall bring you to nirvana.”

You gawked at your oppressor in abasement with huge eyes. You stuttered, not knowing how to respond at first to the proposition. With your frightful trance broken at last, your hands darted out to shove at his chest, though it did nothing to displace him. “Absolutely not. Never,” you vowed.

Your neighbours laughed merrily again and he finally withdrew. “Shame, though I suspect you will offer yourself to me in the future.” --------------------

It took awhile to settle, but after taking a seat on shaky legs, you finally caught your breath. You couldn’t even look at the vampire after his foul attempted seduction.

You had been secretly investigating the rental of another apartment. Perhaps you could stay at your friends’ or parents’ houses while you searched for yet another home. But given how quickly he found you this time, you didn’t want to bring your loved ones trouble with this abomination. 

This situation was too dangerous. Playing along to this nighttime visitor’s games simply wasn’t a sustainable arrangement in the long-term. What else could you do to get rid of him?

Your frantic mind wondered how quickly you could seal a deal with a new landlord and arrange to have your modest belongings moved, all without his knowledge. You finally had enough savings scraped together and spent it all on the last move. How long would it take to earn enough again to move even further away? Maybe a small town on the other end of England will work this time, or perhaps you needed to flee to another country? No matter, you can borrow the funds needed to move —as long as it would free you from your stalker, it would be worth it. 

"Don't bother, little one. I can find your new home again easily if you move. There will be no point. Save your energy for more meaningful endeavors." He regarded you with his cheek squished against a fist, an almost bored look on his face.

He can read my mind. And any of your plans. You almost cried, but you didn’t want to let him see your misery, lest he enjoy it. Your eyes stung from the unshed tears. Pulling several Kleenexes from their box, you scrubbed your nose before blowing it loudly. You briefly considered going to the police for protection, but who would believe you? They would sooner send you to a psychiatric facility. 

He tittered, "Humans." The monster said your name unexpectedly and your attention snapped to him in surprise. Cursed ruby eyes saw through you, yet you couldn’t read his expression. "I will not harm you. This I promise." 

Was that really true? He could do anything to you, and you’d be defenceless against him if he chose to violate your space again, like he did just now and the entire time this past year. But then again, you were still alive, albeit scared out of your mind. Looking down at yourself, you only felt vulnerable and apprehensive. You recoiled when he reached out for you again, your knees buckling, and you found yourself held up only by the vampire’s strength..

Despite his savage expression, his touch was soft, the back of his fingers barely brushing your cheeks. You weren’t able to determine whether he was sincere or merely toying with you yet again, so you eyed him with mistrust.

"I am Alucard," he purred once more, sunset eyes flashing with fervour.

~To be Continued~

--------------------

Notes: Unless Integra commanded Alucard to fuck someone, IMO he wouldn’t force himself on an unwilling partner. Alucard is a lover, not a rapist, and after centuries of existing (and fucking randoms), he’s had plenty of orgasms of his own and is much more dedicated to giving his partners a mind-blowing experience, especially when his heightened senses (SMELL) let him enjoy their orgasms too.

No, he wasn’t going to bite us, but he 1000% would have fucked us silly if we gave him permission, without giving us the chance to think about taking it back.

The vulnerability and helplessness that comes with the territory of potential rape by an unknown male is all encompassing, taking over all other thought processes. I hope the fear the Reader felt was well-conveyed. I think feeling sexually vulnerable is an experience that the vast majority of women (and many other groups of people) probably experience at some point. 

Twin Flames- SFW Chapter Five (End)

“I was on that blasted site to find you…You are exactly who I’ve been searching for all these years. And there is nothing in this lifetime that keeps us apart.”

Warnings: romance, drama, conflict resolution, lots of dialogue

For readers who don’t do smut/are underage, the long sex scene can be skipped and the ending will make sense. Words: 4569

It was well over a month before you saw each other again. At first, Madara assumed both you and him needed time to decompress after the last encounter. Madara knew your shift schedule, which you previously provided to facilitate the planning of outings. You also mentioned another wave of school hitting. After weeks of radio silence from you, he figured you likely were very busy lately, but if your lack of contact was your playing of games with him, he wasn't engaging.

So he left for the conference in Japan for several weeks. The trip went well, all things considered.

His mood was foul for much of these last weeks, even while conducting business. The idiot Hashirama thought it was appropriate to venture a joking guess, asking if his ‘gloomy face’ was perhaps the result of the plague of romantic woes. The other brother, shrewd and opinionated, thankfully stayed quiet. Madara swore he would have stabbed Tobirama in the head if he was forced to endure prodding from another nosy Senju.

This was until Izuna decided he could comment on Madara’s life as well when they returned from Japan. Madara snapped back, rudely informing his little brother there was no issue, that his personal affairs were none of Izuna’s concern. The boorish boy dared to jeer at him, emphatically remarking that he should “just go see you again,” as if he made no attempts to contact you before the conference.

Staring daggers at nothing, he thought back on how you tried to return his keys that doomed night when he brought you home from your penthouse. As if he, Uchiha Madara, would take back an item he had gifted another. Your tears had finally ceased and you were disturbingly calm. When he wouldn’t accept repossessing the keys and attempted to reason with you again, your expression broke. You told him “money doesn’t solve everything.” Falling apart once more, you bid him goodbye while stuttering and left those keys on the passenger seat before easing the door shut behind you.

Stubborn woman. Similar to Izuna, there were times when you were childish in temperament. He already showed you who you were to him, yet you didn’t understand and left. Between you and him, someone had to be the adult.

Madara strode across his office, feeling thunderous as he recalled the memories he made with you. It seemed his thoughts were completely occupied by you lately. He thought back on your fingers tangled in his that treasured day when you searched together for Izuna’s gift, how you beamed at him in delight at your house, and your shocked expression during your first kiss with him. He remembered your juvenile jokes, the first time you approached him for a kiss and how you came to relax into his touch.

He relived your tears and self-deprecating words, how you shrank from him when he confronted you, and the way you offered yourself to him, as if that must have been all he wanted from you, before you walked out. Madara glowered bitterly as his mood darkened even further.

Despite everything that happened, time was the master of the heart. Even if he was surly during the initial days following that party and while abroad, after so long, Madara…missed you. He did not want to be apart any longer. Wishing for reconciliation and to bridge the distance that grew between you, he texted, asking if now was a good time to call. To his surprise, you agreed to speak with him.

---------------

You let the remaining seconds on the timer run out before absentmindedly fishing the udon from the broth. Ladling toppings into a bowl and spooning soup in, you poured piping hot liquid onto your other hand. You yelped in agony, hands flying up in shock and accidentally dumping more scalding soup over yourself and the stove.

You ground your teeth together and shouted in frustration. Mentally pushed beyond the limits, you whipped the damned ladle away, sending it crashing into a vase and knocking it over, fine crystal shattering in a flood of water and shards. Your fresh roses spilled onto the dining table. Roses for romance, now laying in a pool of broken glass. You snorted, the symbolism not lost on you.

Everything was a mess. Your home, your mind, your life. You were incredibly despondent these past weeks despite being swamped, consumed with writing several essays for your program. It was stupid BS. Did you really need to be in a Master’s program in anything to know it’s beneficial to be respectful when talking to someone? Okay, you were exaggerating if you said that was all your program was about, but there was so much fluff in comparison to the amount of material that was useful towards your future role as a Clinical Nurse Specialist or Nurse Practitioner.

You were also pushed to distraction by thoughts of a certain man. It was nearly impossible to focus. You cursed your stupidity for ever getting involved with him.

Your phone pinged, the cheerful sound grossly at odds with your turbulent mood.

It was him. He inquired if it was a suitable time to call now, informing again of how much he wished to hear from you.

Ready to turn that page in the final chapter involving him, you had been prepared to never see Madara again, convinced nothing can come out of staying associated except the promise of more pain.

…Clearly you also missed Madara dearly over the past weeks. It was as if the sun disappeared from your life and all that remained was a bleak landscape of dreariness, devoid of warmth and vibrancy. Longing compelled you to speak with him, to hear his lovely voice again.

Your ringtone sounded immediately.

“Hello? Madara?”

“Y/N?” You jolted at his voice from a single word, the part of your heart that was numb throbbing in pain.

“…How have you been, Madara?”

“Hn. I’ve experienced better days in my life. Y/N, you sound exhausted.” Madara’s voice was flat like he was also lacking sleep, yet it sounded as if he was holding back. Like he had much he wanted to tell you.

“Yeah, I had a bad shift today.”

“I thought you didn’t work today.”

“It wasn’t originally on the schedule I gave you, but I picked up. I needed the extra shift.”

Madara was quiet for a moment. Were you financially stressed? He frowned on his end, then spoke up. “I would like to see you again.” He had no desire to throw your relationship away. It must be mended, somehow.

He wanted to barrel back into your life again?! Just when you regained some measure of functionality by throwing yourself into school and work, drowning yourself in your professional life to prevent your personal demons an opportunity to revisit your thoughts, you hear from Madara again. For several weeks, you hadn’t been ready to see him before he went to Japan. By now, you were almost certain he must have gone on his trip and moved on as well.

Besides, what was there to say? After the fiasco that first and last time Madara brought you to a major event, you weren’t even sure how to face him anymore.

“Not tonight Madara. It was a disaster at work and I’m not emotionally sound right now. I don’t want to have another meltdown in front of you,” you told him and laughed in an attempt to make light of the conversation.

Madara wanted to tell you he did not mind if you broke down, that he was there to support you in times of weakness. He held his tongue, figuring that what not what you needed to hear and pushing harder at this time would only serve to drive you away again.

“How about another day? One when you are free and well-rested,” he suggested.

Part of you wanted to refuse him, but after all the care and kindness Madara showed you, how could you do that to this man? If nothing else, you both at least deserved closure.

“One chance, Y/N. Give me one more chance,” he continued. “Please.”

You were weak. With a lump in your throat, you found you couldn’t refuse your love’s heartfelt request.

“Give me a few more days to rest and unwind, then we can meet here.”

You ate your dinner udon in silence amongst the chaotic pile of broken dreams, surrounded by shattered glass, forgotten rose stems, and spilled tears.

---------------

Madara arrived at your house at your invitation, pausing outside to mentally rehearse what he wanted to tell you. He was determined to resolve your differences and reenter each other’s lives.

You opened the door for him. His frustration with the situation was ever-present, but his previous vexation at your actions dissolved upon laying eyes on you for the first time in so long. There you were, dressed comfortably in your pajamas, tiny in comparison to his size. You looked slightly tired and your eyes were mildly swollen, but your gaze was focused on him.

Your mind went blank the moment you heard the knock. Greeting him softly, you blinked at the large plant in his hand. It was a pot of phalaenopsis, or a moth orchid, the most common type of commercial orchid available because it can be tricked into flowering year-round. It was nothing special or exotic compared to your collection, but the gift Madara bore was white. White orchids were a symbol of sincerity. Madara was normally meticulous, but you wondered if he knew that or if the colour was merely a fluke. Your breath hitched when you caught a glimpse at the bundle in his other arm.

It was a dramatic bouquet filled with tulips, lilies of the valley, peonies, and carnations… all flowers of apology. Tulips were perennials that flowered year after year and represented new beginnings and peace, but these tulips were also in red to emphasize it was safe for you to trust Madara. White peonies represented shame for how he acted and a desire to right wrongs, and carnations not in pink, but red, expressed an aching heart and unyielding affection. There was a cut stem of giant cymbidium orchids within the bundle. Cymbidiums could mean many nice things, one of those being pure love.

This was no fluke. You stared at the bouquet to ensure you weren’t seeing things or getting your floral trivia incorrect. Madara was indeed expressing his great regret and a sincere desire to mend wrongs in a nonverbal way which was more natural to him. You swayed when you raised your shocked eyes to meet his. His expression was simultaneously grave, yet hopeful.

You invited Madara inside and closed the door behind him.

He stood by the entrance, not doing anything to remove his dress shoes or jacket. Instead, he watched you, waiting solemnly for you to take his offerings.

It was already late March and spring was quickly approaching, the biting chill of winter not nearly as harsh as the last time you met. Will this be a mistake? New beginnings. With a shaky breath, you accepted the white potted orchid and bouquet from Madara. The plant enthusiast in you wordlessly filled a spare vase with water and arranged the gorgeous bouquet. Once properly organized, it puffed up in a pretty display of red and white –delicate, bell-like lilies surrounded large fluffy flowers, the arrangement dotted with elegant tulips and a strip of pinkish-orange cymbidiums down the middle. Your chest clenched when you contemplated the deep meaning behind its beauty. What Madara wanted to tell you.

Madara continued to stand near the door as he silently observed you tread around your home. “Why are you apologizing so excessively?” You asked, gesturing at the array of quality blooms. “You are not at fault for anything.”

Madara hesitated, aware the minutes ahead will bring him to a position that will make him too vulnerable for comfort. He frowned. Your disposition was too polite, too formal with him. You wouldn’t even look at him. Neither did you truly invite him inside and offer him refreshments like the model hostess you were the last time he came over. It was like you were expecting him to state what he needed and leave.

He resented your aloofness and his part in bringing about this change in your demeanor around him. When it came to his emotions and those softer feelings you evoked, speaking candidly was difficult for Madara. He did not relish exposing himself, but this was a conversation that needed to happen. And if it would help you understand just how much you meant to him…

Madara had thought of what to say over the last two days, but upon seeing you, it was like his preparations vanished into nothingness. Not wanting you to ask him to leave, he needed to find his words again quickly.

“That is not true. There are many assertions I delivered poorly. I should never have been harsh to you, even if the sentiment was honest and that part I will not retract.” It was so like Madara to be painfully blunt even when he was trying to express remorse, it was almost comedic.

“Which part was that?” You asked wearily. Your heart seized, not ready to bear Madara’s gut-wrenching judgment again, but also knowing you and him needed to speak, that avoidance was no longer an option. You glanced again at Madara’s bouquet.

“That your sense of inferiority was unbecoming. I should never have spoken to you in such a way. For that, and the other words when I drove you home, I apologize. I…didn’t want to cause you pain. However, I maintain that that feeling of yours is misplaced and unnecessary. I would not have pursued if I thought you inadequate. We are equals if we are to be together.” He fixed you with a level stare which you returned with uncertainty.

You mulled over his words, remembering your realization at the end of the last confrontation with Madara at his penthouse, before he pulled you into his arms and let you weep. Madara wanted you for you.

You allowed Madara inside, bringing him to be seated at the same couch where he first realized the depth of his feelings for you. You awkwardly pulled out a chair from the adjacent dining table, but didn’t venture closer.

“Don’t you see we are from completely different worlds? Worlds that were never meant to collide if it wasn’t for the stupid dating site. What future is there for us? We aren’t meant to be together.”

Clenching his fists, Madara’s face stayed serene. He sighed, running a hand through his mane.

“Initially, it was Izuna’s bright idea to join that website on my behalf, but I only agreed to such an obscene plan because I saw you. There was no other woman I desired seeing. It was a coincidence that our paths crossed again after so many years, so even if I found the concept of that site distasteful, if there was the possibility to properly court you, I would utilize such a platform.” Madara paused, noting his tension and consciously ordering his hands to open.

“I was on that blasted site to find you. Our relationship was never of the sort suggested by the dating site that brought us back together.” He gritted out. He stood and came over, hand reaching for your face, the need to touch you again driving him to insanity. To his relief, you allowed his touch and made no attempts to stop him.

“Whatever future you desire, we can create together. I want to be with you,” he continued.

Madara stalled briefly, then kneeled before you and took your hands in his, the determination in his eyes unwavering.

“I am not a man of pretty silver-tongued words. You should know that.” Your eyes started to water as you acknowledged Madara’s statement. “Months ago, you said you liked me. Does that still hold true?” He asked.

A relationship took effort from both ends. You remembered every sweet moment you created together and the way Madara always tried for you. You recalled his fierce defence of you from that other woman. And his terrible words in the car as he drove you home, but also how he endeavored to make contact again to work things out while you fled.

You blinked at him to try stopping the tears that threatened to fall, trembling in his hands. Knowing he appreciated honesty, you replied, “Of course. I never stopped.”

Madara let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. His expression completely transformed and a brilliant smile lit up his face. Looking at your hands, he stroked your palms. “Y/N, I will tell you this once: you are exactly who I’ve been searching for all these years. And there is nothing in this lifetime that keeps us apart.” He lifted his gaze back to yours, his face now closer. “I promise I will always take care of you, if you'll let me. You will want for nothing,” he vowed.

“I…trust you…” you rasped, still trying to wrap your head around how someone like Madara would want to be with a regular person like you.

Madara’s entire being rocked with your confession. How he needed to hear those words. “I won’t let you down.”

“Why are you so good to me?”

There was no need for Madara to reply. The answer was in his eyes. You knew. You must have known some time ago that he loved you. You merely didn’t know how to respond to the intensity of his devotion.

“I’m sorry too. I’m sorry for ignoring you all this time even when you tried to make amends before going on your trip,” you whispered.

He leaned in with his head angled up to press his lips to yours.

“Move in with me, Y/N. I'm serious. I was serious from the beginning. Share your life with me."

You made a pained noise and reached for him, hands entwining behind his neck to bring him closer. Your foreheads touched. You too will try harder with Madara. For him, you’ll be better than you are. Instead of giving up now, you will give yourselves another chance to speak each other’s language and understand one another.

“I like bouquets, but next time, don’t buy me cut orchids. Cutting their flowers is a travesty knowing how long it takes to nurture and grow them.” You sniffed, but smiled against his lips.

“Your wish is my command.” He glanced at your collection of exotic plants and tried to entice you with your hobby. “If you enjoy greenery this much, you can plant whatever you like if you move into my main residence with me and Izuna. We can have a lawn full of cherry blossom trees and build a greenhouse, hire gardeners to assist you. Whatever you want.”

“Madara? That might be the most attractive thing you said to me all day.”

---------------

“Stay the night?” Now that Madara was here, you didn’t want him to leave, as if you were afraid you would have to wait another lifetime to see him again.

Madara agreed readily, raising a sophisticated brow when you suggested he take your bedroom while you slept on the sofa bed in the other bedroom. “Just trying to be a good hostess,” you explained, grinning bashfully.

“I would feel your hospitality more deeply if my hostess didn’t disappear,” he teased. You giggled, grabbing his hand and leading him to your room, as relieved as Madara that your relationship remained intact. That not everything was lost and you both fell back into your prior dynamic without the strain with relative ease.

He settled next to you and pulled the sheets up. At first, you lay side by side with some distance remaining between you. Screw it. You missed Madara and he missed you. That much was clear after tonight.

You shimmied up to him and he wrapped an arm around your waist. Bringing his lips to yours, he nipped and prodded, entering your mouth as soon as access was granted.

You were breathless when you separated. “I missed you. I miss this,” you murmured against his ear sleepily.

“Hn,” he grunted in agreement.

Already back to his silent ways. You smiled broadly in the dark.

“Um…are you sweating?”

“Go to sleep,” came the gruff answer.

There was no ignoring the growing damp cold. Realization dawned on you –Madara was always warm. He must be broiling under your linens. Your mouth fell open. “D-do you normally sleep naked? If you’re hot, you…can take off your clothes if you want.” Your wording sounded horrible! Cringing in dismay, you thought about what else you could do for him.

“I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

“There’s no sense in having you suffer this way. You’ll make me a bad hostess.” He was much too conscientious. And in your mind, Madara was already adequately hot. No need to cause him to melt.

Fabric rustled and you felt a breeze touch your face as Madara discarded his clothing somewhere in your room before he returned to you.

His length pushed into your stomach. You knew Madara possessed an athletic muscular build, but being pressed against his bare body was an experience that made you heat up with desire and embarrassment. It wasn’t unpleasant at all.

The interesting, but welcome, turn of events leading to this moment tonight made Madara smile warmly and hold you closer.

Madara’s self-control was unworldly. You basked silently in each other’s presence, secure in the knowledge you still belonged to one another. Slowly, you relaxed into his embrace, your mind slipping into the realm of dreams. There was no funny business to be had tonight.

---------------

Madara invited you to his main house on a day Izuna was not in residence. He had plans for you today; plans he didn’t need his overzealous brother around for.

Gaping in wonder, you turned in a circle. Every new perspective granted ornate wonders. If you thought the ballroom and Madara’s penthouse were extravagant, this manor went well beyond what those venues offered. It was modern in style, but possessed an old world charm that was difficult to describe. Coffered ceilings dropped down to meet carved pillars and paneled walls. Antique Japanese wooden furniture and furs sat on luxury stone or hardwood floors. The choices were tasteful and nothing was overdone.

Madara brought you around the mansion for a tour. After multiple sitting rooms, waiting rooms, offices, guest rooms, saunas, and pools, your head spun as you were led down yet another corridor. Servants who came across you and Madara bowed in deference.

“I am going to get lost here,” you whined. Your entire condo was smaller than one of his closets.

“You will find your way around quickly, I’m sure.” You were sure you would as well if you didn’t want to be the subject of so many curious glances.

Madara made sure you were treated like a queen. You spent the rest of the day with him, curled against him on a velvet sofa while watching an assortment of movies in the home theater and gorging yourself on meals that must have been prepared by a Michelin star chef in the dining room. You washed and soaked in a scented bath that was fit for a goddess. You played foosball together, but of course he didn’t let you win easily.

The door shut and locked behind Madara. You knew why he brought you to his bedroom tonight. You felt nervous, but you too wanted to see this through. This was a long time coming.

---------------

“I love you Madara.”

He looked upon you lovingly, glad to finally be together. It must have been the potency of his love for you that had him undone.

He fixed you with his piercing gaze. “I love you more,” he confessed.

The sun crested the horizon in your life again.

You were enchanted by the intensity of his expression. Madara was fire. His body was warm as always, his love and grace living things that kept the fire bright.

Madara was like the burning sun that lit up the skies and illuminated the world. But for you, he was more akin to a warming fire than a searing bonfire. You did have another home.

Home was wherever Madara was.

Instead of cutting your story together short, you couldn’t wait to turn that page to continue onto the next chapter of your life with him.

---------------

Dance music sounded deafeningly as lights blared in the salsa bar. You were on another date with Madara, but this one was special. Izuna and Jasna joined you and Madara in this group date. When you mentioned you had never been to a salsa bar and Jasna also expressed her interest, Madara suggested she come along. Izuna invited himself. He was a natural, a social setting being Izuna’s innate habitat and Jasna was already at ease conversing with him. You both cackled and mocked Izuna for something he said before sashaying to the dance floor.

Izuna and Madara shared a look as they watched you and your friend dance with abandon, guffawing like hyenas while singing along to the song. The curve of your eyebrows furrowed at a comment Jasna made, then your cheeks pulled up and dimpled as you laughed at your own joke.

*“When marimba rhythms start to play Dance with me, make me sway Like a lazy ocean hugs the shore Hold me close, sway me more”

“Like a flower bending in the breeze Bend with me, sway with ease When we dance, you have a way with me Stay with me, sway with me”

Your rhythm was correct, even if your steps were wrong for the kinds of dance this song demanded. You and Jasna made up for it with childish enthusiasm. You twirled each other and Jasna dipped you down to the beat. You were so silly, so dazzling. Madara laughed in earnest with Izuna, your light blinding in the darkness of the room.

“Other dancers may be on the floor Dear, but my eyes will see only you Only you have that magic technique When we sway, I go weak”

“I can hear the sounds of violins Long before it begins Make me thrill as only you know how Sway me smooth, sway me now”

There was no one else he wanted to spend his life with. He would do anything it took to keep you happy. Madara sauntered up to you, the crowd parting before him. Your eyes met. The power behind his stare was like he had you hypnotized with his gaze, but that was of course impossible. Your heart filled with warmth at the sight of him. Others may not see him for who he truly was, but for you, loving Madara was as natural as breathing.

His next words would forever etch themselves into your soul.

"Dance with me."

~End~

---------------

Notes:

I am incredibly proud of myself for finishing this story! First fanfic I’ve written in well over a decade! I hope you found the ending believable and satisfactory. The premise of this story was simple from the beginning. One theme I wanted to highlight in this story was good relationships where the partners do not communicate their love the same way and the difficulties that can arise. When you were with Madara, whether that was cooking for him and lavishing him with attention, or spending quality time together, that was when he felt your affection most. Whereas for her, those things were important, but she was indeed feeling inferior with this man who was larger than life. She also needed the words to confirm Madara’s feelings at a time when she was ready for the conversation. As we know, Madara is more a man of action than words, until he is pushed to speak his deepest thoughts.

While there are many unhealthy relationships with glaring red flags that should be promptly cut off and discarded, I sincerely believe there are many people too willing to hastily throw away what they have before even attempting to fix what’s there. Getting into a relationship isn’t the destination, but only the beginning. Maintaining the relationship is the difficult journey requiring hard work from both sides and an ongoing process. “Journey before Destination,” my friends.

Yes Madara can be so petty (and a STUBBORN hypocrite) until his heart told him he couldn’t stay away any longer. His cold shoulder backfired hard on him 😆

Writing Madara in his different moods (the spectrum ranging from romantic, to awkward, silly, angry, frustrated, regretful, horny, and completely, utterly elated and in love) was challenging and I hope I did him justice. The goal was to have him still behave like Madara even when he was feeling fluffier.

I hope you enjoyed the journey between Madara and his nurse over the course of these past weeks! What a great month I had bringing them to life! 💖

*The lyrics at the end of the fic is of course from the legendary song “Sway.” The version in my mind is sung by Michael Buble.

Hellsing Ultimate (2006)

Benefits Package St. Valentine's Special Part 2 (Alucard x Fem Reader)

Please see Part I for overall notes; this is sensual/Reader being looked after; blood/biting mention, but there is nothing sexual (sorry!). Part II takes place at an as-yet-unspecified time after Part I.

Your life was routine as it could be, given that you worked for a woman who casually used the world's most fearsome monster as a weapon. You woke up--sometimes in your bed, sometimes where you had crashed after another late night at work--worked your way through whatever Sir Integra needed from you, ate your simple meals, and then worked well into the night attending to all the small things that were always getting postponed to take care of the types of crises the Hellsing Organization got called on to make go away.

You rubbed your hands together and yawned. Probably best to stop soon; this was detail work and best not done when you were this tired. And, as your stomach unceremoniously reminded you, hungry.

You realized that--

"You haven't eaten dinner yet, little human."

You still jumped whenever Alucard manifested himself, but you generally didn't shriek anymore. "You're right, I should go to the kit--"

"No," Alucard said, offering you a hand as you got out of your chair. You were surprised to see he was just wearing his suit. He looked much more...formal without his duster. As always, he was devastatingly beautiful, red eyes and lustrous hair, just the perfect length--slightly unruly, but not overly long.

"It's too late for the kitchens," he said, in a strangely--and seductively--commanding tone. "I have prepared something already."

"That's very kind, thank you."

Alucard offered you a strong arm and your fingers slid over the fine wool of his suit. You were not a tiny thing, but you felt it as he guided you down the halls. He was not so casual or modern as to touch the small of your back or to intertwine fingers; no, in these moments, whatever of the Old Aristocrat, the boy who had been part of a class that saw itself as separate and superior and demanded expressions of that superiority through the flawless performance of prescribed ritual, manifested itself. He walked in march time, gaze always straight ahead, and it was fascinating to see this vestige of court drill still embedded him after all this time.

He opened the door to one of the dining rooms, where the table was appointed with a lace tablecloth, candlesticks, fine dining china, a variety of elaborate ice-packed serving trays, and tools. Laid over one chair was something made of fine-looking, semi-translucent fabrics.

Alucard had taken hold of your shoulders and was rubbing circles with his thumbs as he leaned down and whispered in his deep, plush voice, "Your clothes must be uncomfortable after such a long day. Perhaps those would be more pleasurable."

The part of you that had developed a million different defense mechanisms to shield the soft, romantic core of your heart almost laughed at the absurdity of it all. What ancient and forgotten wardrobe had he found this--goodness, it was an honest-to-God 1930s peignoir and negligee set--garment in? Some inner voice stopped you though, told you that, strange as it might seem, laughing would deeply wound him.

"Let me change," you said. "It's so thoughtful of you--I am sure it will be so much more comfortable."

You availed yourself of an attached cloakroom and grumbled when you realized how right Alucard was: it felt divine to shuck off your skirt suit. It fit fine, but any outfit with waistbands and buttons and pantyhose was going to feel tiresome after a 12+ hour workday. The cotton of the nightgown was incredibly soft and you actually felt beautiful when you saw how it showed hints of your lingerie underneath and showed off your décolletage. The silk of the robe caressed and soothed in all the ways that nylons never could.

Alucard met you in the doorway, first smothering your hand in kisses, and then once again offering his arm so he could escort you to the table. The candles were lit and the table was set with smoked salmon and a variety of caviars on ice. A flute of champagne was already bubbling away. He pulled out your chair for you and then took a seat to your left. You began plucking plump looking pieces of smoked salmon and digging into the caviar vessels with a spoon (a proper mother-of-pearl spoon, of couse). The grey-golden pearls and the iridescent streaks in the spoon glistened in the candlelight.

It was so good, the contrast of the fatty fish and the salty, briny caviar further cut by the dry, sparkling champagne. The fine, flimsy fabric allowed you to feel the intricate wood carving in the chair, the details in the upholstery's brocade, the depth of the pile of the carpet. This was incredibly relaxing, and you marveled at the vampire's ability to know how badly you had needed this.

Alucard watched you devour the caviar with an inscrutable look. He regarded his own goblet with a bit of resignation. You locked eyes with him and smiled very big to try and convey how appreciative you were.

"Sometimes, I miss the ceremony of feasting."

"Then feast from me."

The declaration surprised you both. "You freely offer this?" he asked. You nodded firmly, adding a verbal, "Yes, I do."

He reached out and took your hand, pulling you across his lap. You presented your neck to him, and here he did not hesitate. You gasped at the intrusion into you neck and whimpered as he drank: it was pain and pleasure and strange euphoria for both of you.

When he lifted his head up and took a deep breath of satisfaction, you lifted your own head up to kiss him, but he gently put a gloved finger to your lips and took a fine linen napkin off the table, blotting the blood that had been trickling down your neck, just before it stained your gown.

As he held the ruined napkin aloft, he chuckled. "Master will be so irritated," he said, boyish amusement in his eyes.

He insisted you eat a bit more to regain some strength and to be sure you were truly sated. When you could eat no more, you stood up and walked to his chair to ask to dance with you, but, as you opened your mouth to ask, you yawned.

He took you in his arms, eyes taking in your breasts, which were pressed into him, before he spoke. "Time to sleep, my dear."

You were about to protest, when you were taken by a sudden swoon of exhaustion. Alucard was staring at you intently.

"You allowed me to drink, and after such a long day, little human. We will dance another time." You opened your mouth again, not wanting this night to end, but he stopped you.

"I said, time to sleep, little human."

You began to drift off as though under a spell, but you knew Alucard was carrying you toward the bedroom where you usually slept when you worked late. In the bedroom, there was a dresser with a great mirror over it across from the bed.

The last thing you saw before you succumbed to slumber was a vision of yourself in the mirror, wrapped in diaphanous ivory, your body limp in the arms of a tall, well-built, dark-haired man who was gently lowering you into a soft bed. You were the Sleeping Beauty of your silliest fantasies that had been stoked by Disney films and fever-dream nineteenth century canvases. You hoped that the smile you felt in your heart had made it to your lips for Alucard to see.

When you awoke the next morning, not to an alarm, but to the gentle glow of the morning sun through the sheer drape, you could see in the giant mirror that your hair was rather attractively messy and the cotton nightgown, whisper-soft against your skin, enveloped you like a cloud. The silk and lace peignoir was arrayed at the foot of the bed as though it were staged for a photoshoot

Alucard had left your keys, pocketbook, and calendar on the nightstand. You used the bookmark to open your datebook, and without thinking, flipped to the next page to see what you had on for today.

You smiled softly and your eyes misted when you saw that today was February 15th.

Madara vs Kunoichi/Medics

Did Alive!Madara take it easy when fighting kunoichi and medics back in the day?

I think he would have, even if I'm sure it can be assumed he has killed some of both groups before, when all everyone did during the Warring States Era was fight day in and day out. It was a much more cut throat period and surely more underhanded (strategic) tactics such as going after medics would have been employed.

Edo Madara derisively asked Ohnoki what adult would "go all out against mere children." Granted the Kage group he fought included 2 female "children" who he also beat the crap out of, but those two were different from the average kunoichi. One was Senju Tsunade, who was a Senju and a medic AND a Kage. But it was for her offense of being a Senju directly related to Hashirama that made Madara specifically say he'd kill her first. It had nothing to do with her status as a medic or a woman. In fact, Madara went so far as to say her healing capabilities were negligible against him.

That went for all other medics in the Shinobi Alliance too. They were so insignificant they were not even worth going after, at least until he decided to perform large AOE jutsus and squash everyone. But at that point, it wasn't like he was going after medics OR women in particular. Madara tended to just deal with whoever showed up against him. So if a kunoichi or medic attacked him, then he'd fight back.

The other notable kunoichi we saw him fighting in that battle was Mei, who was of course still a Kage. Besides Tsunade, I don't think he specifically had it out for any of them, even Ohnoki. Edo Madara had a point to make while he was spanking the Kage, to test the abilities of the current generation of Kage, then to show them know how far they were beneath him when he had seen enough. He didn't even bother killing them off definitively.

Madara doesn't enjoy beating up those weaker than him. During the 4th Ninja War, from his introduction fighting the Shinobi Alliance to his fight against the 5 Kage, even when he was going against the world with Obito and the Juubi...he just looked bored and/or disdainful. It wasn't until Hashirama's appearance that he showed true excitement. He never targeted any women (except Tsunade and Mei, for reasons as discussed) in his fights unless it was a large area attack meant to end everyone. He didn't target any nameless medics either despite acknowledging medics normally get taken out first. I vaguely recall him not even bothering with Sakura as well until he needed his Rinnegan back and she attacked him while being a 'diversion.'

As we see from the dynamics between 3-person squads in Konoha, women are often heavily protected in Naruto. Uchiha women were definitely also protected since they married within their clan and there were only so many Uchiha women to ensure the continuity of the bloodline. I like to believe the kinder part of Alive!Madara (which we know exists) extended this sentiment of cherishing women to those outside of his clan as well, which might have included mercy in battle.

What do you think?

Yo I’m a sucker for this trope in fics, movies, show etc. every time a pairing are getting intimate and one of them caresses their partner’s face and their partner just goes like…

IT JUST MAKES MY HEART GO LIKE

You know how Madara's susano'o has two faces? So he can see behind him so no one can stab him in the back anymore? Like Hashirama did? Doesn't it make you want to cry?