alusion (because the world needed it)

for who you are

after.... months....... of nothing............ i am Back
i still love them okay byeEE
category: oneshot
word count:2222

Alucard could easily boil himself down, what he was, in three indisputable facts:

He was a Demon Hunter.

He became a Demon Hunter because of his past.

He hated and despised demons.

Listing them was easy, knowing them was easy. They were facts, and they'd never change. Well, until they were, until they were changed. Like what 'fact' number four had been: he was alone in this world, and his only friend was solitude. Then Gusion--beautiful, stubborn Gusion--and completely fucked that fact over, spun his world upside-down, and was now in the process of becoming something Alucard could only describe as family, and most certainly not in a platonic way. Leave it to Gusion, to tear down his walls, slip past his guard, and worm his way into his heart. Well, almost all of them. All but one, really. His gauntlet.

His demonized arm.

Alucard almost hated it more than he hated demons.

It had been given to him during his captivity, his torture, his humiliation, all done by the hands of demons. It branded him, marked him, forced him to always remember what he went through, what he lost, who did it to him, and what caused it. Lastly, it marked him as something close to them. Similar.

His arm was vile.

His arm was putrid.

His arm was disgusting.

Alucard hated his arm and, with it, he hated himself too.

The gauntlet protected it from being seen, to prevent prying eyes from seeing the sickening sight.

How ironic it was, to have a part of him be so closely attached to him.

Always a constant reminder, always a constant pain from having it spread, always--always controlling it. He shouldn't be able to control it, but he did, he had control over something demonic, and it disgusted him, made him want to vomit, especially even more that it was his, it was his arm, and he could use it, control it, stop the spread of it on his body, he controlled it. The thought of that, knowing that, at times it brought bile into the back of his throat. The only reason he hadn't amputated it was because he needed a second arm, needed it for his proficiency, his killing, his slaughtering of demons. He hated that, too, how he needed it.

Looking at it was worse.

He refused to take off the gauntlet outside if necessity, and, even then, avoided it as much as he could. Showering served as a daily reminder, Alucard being unable to shower without taking of the metal gauntlet, lest water get trapped inside of the damned thing. In a way, the gauntlet was only a reminder of his arm, and if it didn't protect those around him from seeing his arm, Alucard didn't doubt that he'd start to hate the gauntlet as well.

His arm was something only he now knew, a weight he alone carried, forced upon himself to suffer alone, lest he hear the hate, see the pity, the distrust of those around him. What sort of Demon Hunter had a demonic arm? What sort of symbol, what sort of hero, warrior, protector had a part of the enemy so deeply engraved within them?

Not even Granger knew what was underneath his gauntlet. Alucard couldn't even bring himself to tell Granger. He was thankful for the brooding male to accept that and stay silent about that, the same towards Gusion.

Gusion.

Fuck.

Was it wrong for Alucard, to be scared?