Impossibility (Alucard x Fem Reader)
Notes: not for minors; hints of possessive Alucard; fem reader; this happens not long after Sir Integra has passed
POV: Your aged parents have just died and you are back in your childhood home to take care of their remaining possessions. Feeling unsettled, you decide to go for a walk.
Night had fallen, and you knew you would not be able to sleep in this place, knowing your parents would never be there again. So you walked. You walked toward the stone ruins of an old church and village center that had been abandoned well before the Great War.
In life, your parents had barred you from wandering these ruins or approaching the Hellsing Manor just beyond. And you had obeyed. But now—now, you were a disobedient daughter, a blasphemous daughter. Your parents were barely in their graves, and here you were, wandering amid crumbling walls and remnants of lanes, and pillars that now stood alone.
Sometimes, life actually does function as though it were a novel, with irony happening almost too neatly, at just the right moment. So it was this night, for, just as you were about to sit on a pile of stones and laugh at the fact that your parents had warned you against this harmless little place, gunshots rang out.
You did not really want to run toward the gunshots, but you had medical training, and someone could be hurt. But, by the time you turned around the corner of the old church, it was silent. A stranger clad in crimson was the only man standing in a sea of--well, they sort of looked like humans, but the way their bodies had broken, the discharges coming out...it didn't look right.
The stranger had seen you because of course he had. You had not exactly done a good job of concealing yourself.
“Oh,” he said in a voice so deep it vibrated through your body, tickling something in you that you hadn’t known existed until that very moment. He began to walk toward you. “What is this? A sweet little bunny lost among these mangy dogs?”
You felt as though the breath had been knocked out of you for a moment: the dark-haired man seemed impossible. Impossibly tall, impossibly lithe of limb, impossibly agile. But, he also appeared to be bleeding, though, strangely enough, his wounds appeared smaller with every step, which was just...couldn't be right. You shook your head, trying to come to your senses.
“I am [name], and I have some medical training. Please, let me help you.”
You were about to reach out to him when he began to laugh. It too was low and made your insides coil. “Sweet. Very sweet, [name]. However, I assure you, I can suffer no lasting harm.” He was silent for a moment. “You should not be here. As you have seen, this place is haunted by low and dark things. These are ghouls. If you don’t believe me, look closer.” He picked up one of the grotesque things so you could see it better. It would have been nicer if he hadn’t.
“I—I will go, but are you sure you aren’t hurt too badly? I don’t want to—
You gasped. It took a lot to tear your eyes away from the stranger, but the approaching swarm coming up behind him was sufficient.
“Ah,” he said, chuckling again. “Playtime is not over for tonight.” Instead of dealing with the new threat right away, his eyebrows flashed above the rim of his peculiar glasses as though he had just had the most wonderful idea.
“[Name], is it your desire that I kill these creatures?”
What did he expect you to say? You nodded yes.
He laughed again. “Say it. Tell me.”
“Kill them, please, they frighten me! I want you to kill them.”
He took a deep, satisfied breath. “Perfect. You did that perfect. As you say, [name].”
He turned and his guns began firing, kicking back like cannons. How his wrists did not shatter, you did not know. You also didn’t understand his fighting technique at all. He made no attempt to protect himself, so, of course, he took an awful wound right away. Damn him, he was going to get you both killed! You moved forward to try and see if you could aid him in some way.
“No! Stay back!” he shouted, and he pushed you away, but with such impossible force that it sent you flying back into the partial wall of the old church. At any other time you might have stopped to ask yourself how the fuck he had done that and what was he, anyway, but you were surrounded by ghouls and something was now very wrong with your left leg.
You were sure that he glanced back at you for a moment, and you were sure that he was distressed, but he did not abandon his mission.
While neither minstrel nor troubadour had ever conceived of a knight such as this man before you, even he could not be everywhere at once. And thus you found yourself nearly face-to-face with one of the ghouls. You tried to move, but that was hopeless. Still, if you were about to go down, you weren’t going to do it quietly, so you picked up what appeared to be a shard of glass. You hoped it was somehow from one of the church’s old windows and that it retained some holy protective power.
But, just as you were about to strike, one of his bullets did it for you.
You looked up. He no longer wore his glasses, and your [color] eyes met his, which were pinkish-red. You closed your eyes and shook your head, but when you opened them again, they were still that same color. Oh dear, how badly were you hurt?
He knelt down with courtly grace, gently clasping your hands in his own and resting them on your breasts. You felt a twinge of shame as you realized that tickling, twisting sensation was back, even as you were bathing in pain.
“Please, [name], I beg you to forgive my monstrousness. I forget how my full strength affects you all.”
He lifted your hand up, continuing to stroke it, while his other grazed your cheek, which burned under the touch of his white leather gloves. Even in your diminished state, you clearly perceived the sorrow in his countenance. He mumbled, as though he was looking to and speaking not to you, but to someone unseen. “You humans are so delicate, so fragile—need to be cherished for the short time you are here.”
He was quiet for a moment, and then he fixed his eyes on you again. He leaned over so that his lips were a hair’s breath from yours. His hair grazed your neck, and you could take in the delicacy and angularity of his face. Impossibly elegant. Impossibly handsome.
He pulled back, just slightly, and drew your hand to his lips, barely brushing your knuckles with a kiss.
“You tried to care for me,” he said, as though he couldn’t understand it. “You wanted to care for me.” He looked at you again, and then took a breath, as though he had resolved something to his satisfaction.
Sweeping you off the ground, he began to carry you away. “I will see that you are fully healed, and then—“ he paused for a moment. “Then, I will see you are properly protected.”
As you drifted toward unconsciousness, you became dimly aware that he was taking you up the road to the forbidden, foreboding wall of the manor. As you fully surrendered your head, letting it loll on his impossibly broad shoulder, you would have sworn that his hair—or was it something else? how could it be something else?—had somehow taken on a life of its own, turned into tendrils, was wrapping you in protective, inescapable darkness…
But surely that is just your overwhelmed mind, said a voice in your head that, for some reason, didn’t sound like yours, isn’t it—darling?
