the main thing he felt differed them both is that alucard new his limts. he knew the time and place for everything but he chose to rebel. dragan lived for pushing past them, it brought heat to his cooling veins every time he could garner fear or a gasp. he had to crave it, and in turn he had to earn his fear, earn his respect. alucard had been born with it. the empire was a full package made specifically for their fathers first born son. heâd have pure blood running through his veins like every jeup to ever live in their direct bloodline, but dragan did not. it dug into his skin, screeched like nails on a chalkboarding knowing that his brother had thrown it away. all of that respect that came with simply existing tossed to the ashes and in what? his grief?
dragan hadnât known grief. it didnât meriander around his brain and his heart. it didnât squeeze at his strings or drag him around hoping for a better day. his fatherâs death lead him to want to rejoice. he stood next to his siblings, staring up into the moselium and felt nothing, cared for nothing but to be king of the night bloods and it was what he had become. what they had bred and raised him to believe and he had finally mastered it but it meant nothing if it hadnât been meant for him. had his father given alucard and syphaâs mother another child would he simply be a nobody?
the glint in alucardâs golden eyes had told dragan that heâd realized he hadnât been pulling his punches. this wasnât a sparring match, the dragon was filled with rage. everything that alucard said had every ounce of truth in it and it only boiled the motlen blood in him more. reign had entered the forfront of his mind, and reign had wanted his only competition dead. but the night blood king had not accounted for the actuality of draganâs situation, he was not the strongest. he never was.
he clawed at alucardâs hands as they closed around his neck, it was mostly for show. heâd accepted his fate the moment flaxen irisâ flashed in his direction. heâd die here by his older brothers hand, and he was okay with that. his feet kicked and scrambled for the floor as he tried to punch and swat at the elderâs arms, hoping he could break the grip of his grasp. his lungs burned for air and the world around him had slowly begun to dim. tears trickled from his eyes as his anger grew with nothing to show for it. he had lost.Â
in a quick wave it all came rushing back, paired with the thud of his body against the wall. he let himself fall, sliding down its smooth expanse to settle on the floor in a heap of his own dispair. his body needed time to catch up, start healing before he passed out and once it had he simply stood to his feet, though still wobbly. it pissed him off that the eldest jeup boy was simply settled in his chair at his desk, in his home. barely bruised aside from the broken shnas and a few bruises. for a moment he just stared at him before reaching down to pick up the discarded towels that had once lined his pristinely set up bar. they were damp in some places, probably a whiskey or a burbon heâd knocked over in the scuffle, and without a word he began to dab his nose, reaching for the joint his brother had helped himself too to hit himself. as a trade he offered the towel.Â
âfuck you.â dragan said again, less bite to his tone. he spit on the ground once more as a curtesy, riding at least a little bit of his blood from his taste buds before placing the joint to his lips, settling on the floor next to his chair and leaning his tired body against it. his lungs were burning as he exhaled allowing the marijuana smoke to waft into the room, the tension settling.
A dark chuckle slipped past his bloodied lips as Dragan finally spoke. âYeah, yeah yeah. Fuck me because Iâm always the fucking bad guy, right? Iâm the one that sent you out to be murdered. Iâm the one that constantly disregards your safety and puts you into situations in which you may never go home to the people waiting for you.â The pureblood snorted as he shook his head. âBut then again, youâd actually need to have someone waiting at home for you to feel anything. Like it pisses you off so much that I have people that care about me that want to spend their time with me and not so that they can gain anything from me.â
Alucard straightened up in the chair. âYou know, we used to be best friends. I know I was a dick when I left but I wasnât the only one that changed. So, you canât keep putting all of this on me. My fucking mother died. And Itâs a shitty thing to say but youâll never know how it feels to go through that. Yeah, you lost dad too but we both know that none of us took that too hard.â He scoffed. He grabbed another pre roll, decided to just let Dragan keep the one heâd passed to him. Alucard had thought long and hard about how he feels about his brother. Most days, he irritated him and he wanted to black both his eyes. But it was everyday that heâd still kill to protect him. He loved him in his own fucked up way.Â
âSypha is gonna kick our asses. I think thatâs the ugly ass table she really liked.â He chuckled as he lit the blunt and took a long drag. Leaning back, the smoke released into the air in perfect rings. âHow much you want to bet that sheâs already trying to figure out what we broke?â
