#Adrian asks

[memurfevur-archive]

adrian if you could meet your ancestor what would you say to her? :0

"Oh, um, I don't know. I guess thank her? The public doesn't know the real story of her life, her pain, and the sacrifices she made. I got to read it all from a journal she left behind. I wouldn't want to dive into traumas unprompted, but I definitely would like to let her know that she's appreciated, and reading about her life helped me get through mine. It made me become who I am, and who I want to be."

[l1qu1dsm00th]

Y'all give me characters so I can fill this out on my opinions about them

[jeysbvck]

I'm so sorry for your loss, shan. Sending lots of hugs <3

thank you adrian, it means so much to me❤️

[thewritetofreespeech]

Can I request the Castlevania boys reaction to their s/o wearing lingerie?

Alucard

Embarrassed but tries to act like he isn’t.

By this point in their relationship Alucard has seen them naked. Yet somehow this is more…scandalous.

He tries to go to sleep like normal but the vision of them is still in his mind. Urging him to touch.

Trevor

He is definitely a ‘that’s real pretty baby, now take it off’ kind of guy.

Lingerie is great. He appreciates it like any other man, although he thinks it’s a bit unnecessary.

Trevor also hates how complicated it is sometimes. All those finicky laces get on his nerves, so he eventually just rips it.

Hector

Taken aback but quick to correct and be flattered by their effort.

Hector knows this is for him. Something so thin and skimpy certainly doesn’t look comfortable, nor practical.

He would take great care to appreciate not only them but the outfit. Careful to remove it and have it saved for later.

Ritcher

Turns immediately red.

Especially with some of the French lingerie available, it leaves little to the imagine, or too much for fantasy.

Flustered, Ritcher would probably put his foot in his mouth about how impractical it is to sleep in or try to compliment them by saying they don’t need it because they are beautiful but instead saying “what’s the point in that” or something.

[pininghermit]

A Tale of Caution

Request: @queenondeezmatatas OOH I MISS ALU SO MYCH AS WELL💓I did the the wheel and got Power Play 👀A fem!reader and subby alu please? Hihihihihi

AN: I missed writing Alucard soo much!! It feels awesome to see you in my inbox. Okay so this turned out to be more of a hurt/comfort sub/dom thingy. But it's so sweet. I hope you like it 🥰because I had a lot fun and feels writing this.

Tropesvania Event- feel free to request

Genre: hurt/comfort

Pairing(s): Adrian Tepes x fem Reader

Summary: Power-play- fem reader

“He will not.” You cross your arms, huffing at the Belmont. “Adrian will not go anywhere.” Holding his hand tightly in yours, you look into his eyes, only for Alucard to avoid your gaze.

To be honest, you had never liked the Belmont couple. They were no better than the bastards who had done this to Alucard.

What kind of friends left a grieving soul to rot in the grave of his wretched past? What kind of friends ignored the trembling in his hands, the shadows in his golden eyes, and the cracks in his composure?

They had all failed him. Left him to fend for himself. Let the savior of their world crumble like the castle he wandered.

You despised them all. But mostly, you despised yourself for not finding him sooner.

For all the nights he begged for pain, sobbed for penance, for what he believed he had made you into.

To Adrian, you were his penance. A shadow of the demons of his past. That was what he needed. A force he could fight, a torment he could endure.

This cursed world was why the dhampir you loved more than anything would never be able to love you the same way. To him, you were his nightmare, his doom, a trial sent to test his strength.

But you had passed the point of return long ago. Love was a crippling addiction, and you were nothing if not an absolute slave to its whims.

So, you became exactly what Adrian desired. Combining all the rotten parts of yourself, you gave him what he needed. Acts his former lovers had made him endure, this time, with the control resting firmly in his hands.

Brittle ropes, gentle knots, whispered reassurances, kisses, and tender caresses. You refused to let his pain exist unaccompanied by pleasure.

And somehow, after weeks of tearful protests and self-loathing, Adrian began to accept it. His body learned, his senses yielded, his spirit softened under your whispered praise.

You were damn proud of that.

Until he came. The Belmont.

He barged in, shattering one of your stolen moments in the west wing of the castle. Right as Adrian had allowed himself to surrender, to relax in your arms for a fleeting moment of pleasure.

Perched on top of him, locked in a searing kiss, the slamming of the door was like a clap of thunder.

Adrian leapt up instinctively, his panicked stance shielding you. His sword appeared in his trembling hand, ready to strike the intruder.

It was Belmont.

He came for a simple reason—a quest, a call from some obscure, faraway town burning under the chaos of the Fae. A plea for Adrian, the savior, the hero.

Absolutely not.

Adrian would not go. If the world burned, so be it. It was no concern of yours or his.

He had given enough. Lost enough. There was no part of him left to sacrifice for others. Adrian wasn’t their savior anymore. He was barely holding himself together.

Gripping his hand in yours, you stood in front of him, placing yourself between Adrian and Belmont. Your hatred for the man blazed, unrestrained, raw and unfiltered.

“My love will not go,” you said firmly, voice low and trembling with fury. “He is no savior. I will not allow it.”

For the first time, tears of frustration welled in your eyes, blurring your vision. Why him? Gods, why him? “Leave him be!” You shoved Belmont hard, your voice shaking as you fought to steady it. “Some good you’ve done,” you spat.

Why had this man come now, when things were finally getting better? Why did Adrian have to be taken from you the moment he’d started to gather himself? Why must the world steal him away just as you’d found him again?

You lunged toward Belmont, fists clenched, ready to drive him out with whatever strength you had left. But before you could reach him, a hand caught your arm.

Adrian pulled you back gently, turning you to face him. For the first time that day, he met your eyes.

“I won’t go,” he whispered. His voice was calm, steady—the same tone you had used to comfort him through countless nightmares. “I won’t go anywhere.”

His words echoed softly in the room, but to you, they roared louder than any promise.

A chuckle escaped your lips, broken by an ill-hidden sob. You pulled him into a tight embrace, your fingers tangling in his hair as you clung to him. He wasn’t their savior. He was yours.

And that was all that mattered.

[brodorokihousuke]

HD versions of the official doodles from the AJAA Japanese booklet, created painstakingly by yours truly.

Certainly wasn't expecting to see Adrian Andrews and Lotta Heart while nosing around! I can appreciate the callbacks in the jurors, as well as the other art in general...

Source + a version of Apollo without the body under the cut.

I have a translated version here.

[gh0stsp1d3r]

The way this would be Adrian 😂

IM CRYING THIS SO IS HIM 😭 ITS HIM DOWN TO HIS CORE. Loved this too much I had to write sum

He’s stumbling into the house, hands reaching for the wall. You hear him laughing and saying bye before he shuts the door, the rest of the group walking away.

He’s ignoring you as he walks into the room, you looking up from your book with raised eyebrows. He’s struggling to get his clothes off, and you have to suppress a laugh from escaping.

“You good, adri?” You asked him, him shrugging his shoulders and mumbling out a “im fine,” as he slips into his sweatpants.

Then he turns, simply standing and staring at you. You’re staring back, both of you looking at each other, you in confusion.

“Are you coming to bed… or are you just gonna stand there all night?” You ask him after a little, he makes a face of disgust, shaking his head quickly.

“No thanks. I mean, no offense, im sure you’re a lovely person, but I have a girlfriend so….” He slurred out. “Can I have a pillow, though?”

You giggled, finding the whole thing cute. You reached to the side, grabbing and handing him it along with a blanket on the end of the bed.

“Thanks.” He murmured, putting it down onto the floor, and before you could even protest and tell him to at least sleep on the couch, he was knocked out.

You didn’t have anything else to do other than pull your phone out and take a picture of it all. he would be so confused in the morning.

[alucarddaily]

Honduran white bats remind me of Alucard

Instead of Alucard gracefully floating out of his coffin in season one, Trevor and Sypha open the lid to see this staring up at them:

[pilot-boi]

As per the last ask you answered, you gotta draw Pyrrha and Adrian.

SHE WOULDVE BEEN SUCH A GOOD AUNT

[snowonhuronstreet]

I think with both of them as engineers we need a bit of history. They are so academic rivals coded. Maybe Charles is the one that basically lives on the library, always with his notebooks. But max just is a bit effortless with his work. Maybe they both applied to intern under newey and obviously max got it and Charles is still bitter about it even though he got his placement with Ferrari even before he graduated.

“I know what I want — nothing but the best.

I know what I'm capable of — getting Newey’s internship was never a surprise to me.

What I didn't know was who I had to defeat to get that opportunity — him.”

“My mind was always set on Ferrari the moment I saw rosso corsa on a car. But Newey was Newey, I had to try. I mean... who wouldn't?

I had my placement at Ferrari set anyways, so losing out on Newey’s didn't hurt as much... until I found out who was the one who got the my internship — him.”

(them being academic rivals just feels sooo right in this universe!!! thank you for your brilliant mind kind stranger 😭🫶)

[memurfevur-archive]

adrian is so cute im gonna squish his cheeks bwuhbwuhbwahbwah

"ovo>> uh, thank5?"

[halflifebutawesome]

MAY 16, 200-

[askadrianalucardtepes]

"So, I met my father today. He was... Quite pleasant, actually. Only mentioned he'd meet me in hell once!"

[OOC] Guess who met Graham McTavish today? It was SO COOL GUYS. And he was so nice!! 11/10 experience. I even got posted on his instagram, I'm still reeling from that.

[thewritetofreespeech]

Could I request Alucard getting overstimulated by his s/o to the point he's whimpering and teary-eyed?

His lungs burned as he tried to clutch air into them. Alternating between gasping pants and clinching his jaw so tight he thought his teeth might crack.

How long had they been doing this for? Hours? Days? Centuries? Alucard felt it difficult to keep track of time. Keep track of anything other than trying to get air in his lungs, his lover’s wonderful cruel touches, and the need to cum.

“Aww…is it getting too hard my love?” Their sweet voice called to him. A finger tipping his chin up to crane his neck off the bed, which he instantly follows. A willing puppet to their whims. “I mean, I know your cock is already too hard. So red and swollen.” He gasped when their other hand drifted over his erection. Hips lifting to get just a little more touch that he needed to cum. But he was denied. “It looks to vibrant against your beautiful, white skin.”

“….please….” Alucard can barely choke out the words. He had actually been strangled, so he could honestly say that their skillful torment had left him strangled for words.

“Ooo…you beg so beautifully too. My sweet love. The son of the all powerful vampire lord Dracula at the quaking mercy of a little human. What would your father think?”

His fangs bare in a hiss, possibly a subconscious flash at the remark or from another barely their touch on his inner thigh near his balls. “….please…”

“You’re so beautiful when you cry too.” He hadn’t even noticed he was crying until they leaned in to lick a single tear from his cheek. Frustration, pain, or just squeezing them so tightly, he wasn’t sure what caused them. He was sure that elation was the cause of them after they told him, “ok. You can cum now.” It was like a cord snapped inside him as he came ropes of cum all over himself and the bed. Not unassisted by the fact that his back bent off the bed like he was possessed.

Alucard fell back to the bed when he was finished, then fell back into himself. “Are you alright?”

“Yes, I’m fine.” His voice was a little hoarse. Probably from earlier when he was moaning & crying out. Fighting against it before he relented and just let them do what they wanted with him. Submitted so he could have the opportunity for release.

A cool rag drifted over his chest and arms, and Alucard lulled his head over to their lap that was already near it. “You seem to be needing this more than usual.” He had no comment on their remark. Mostly because it was hard to argue when they were right. “Are you sure you’re alright?”

“Yes, I’m fine.” He repeated and they dropped it. Letting him fall asleep as they finished cleaning him up, then crawled into bed after him. Maybe it was the exhaustion, he thought as he drifted off. Why he kept asking for this. If he was too distracted by orgasm to think, then too tired to think after, then maybe that was the reason. Or maybe he was just starting to like it more.

Either way, he would keep asking as long as they would provide. They seemed to have no qualms about doing this so far. So, he was safe. For now.

[oneknightstand-if]

Who would win in a knife fight? Serial Killer MC or Adrian. Merlin is the spectator just to look pretty. *Pets Adrian on the head* At first I thought Adrian would be a happy good boy, but now he is just a man with depression.

Bloodlusted Adrian takes down Serial Killer MC, and it's not even close at this point. But maybe by the end of the game...

However, Adrian is never bloodlusted (especially not towards MC, as p!ssy as some versions make him be), so in actuality, Serial Killer MC shivs him in under five seconds flat.

Meanwhile, Merlin is giving a lecture about how these fights to the death are dumb and you should feel dumb and also stop with the beheading games already!

[pininghermit]

Shattered Armor

Request: @mairablue Hi 💞 Are you still taking requests for spin the wheel event about Adrian? I got the prompt, "He fell first". Can you please write a story with the prompt? Thank you!

AN: Hi friend, thanks for requesting! Please do excuse my own inner angst for this one but this was so cathartic to write.

Genre: He fell first

Pairing(s): Adrian Tepes x female Reader

Summary:Long ago Adrian had walked away from your world. World that never slept. Run by meetings, contracts, profits, grind. Adrian had left it for his mother’s cafe. To the world that smelled of roasted coffee and Mediterranean sandwiches. A glimpse of himself is perhaps what attracts him to you. Like a moth to flame, his heart follows.

Adrian remembers your coffee order as if it were etched into his mind.

Grande, half-decaf, oat milk latte with two pumps of hazelnut, one pump of vanilla, extra foam, and a light sprinkle of cinnamon on top. Exactly 135 degrees.

It was etched there from the first time you walked into his cafe. Typing away on your phone, a Bluetooth headset snug in your ear, you barely glanced at him as you rattled off your intricate order.

You had the air of someone important, busy, and detached. A person who lived in a world that never stopped spinning. Adrian had immediately dubbed you a corporate asshole in his mind.

That’s what he thought as he made your coffee the first time.

He resisted the urge to roll his eyes at your request, even as he worked to make it perfect. But when you tipped fifty dollars with a casual shrug and moved on without looking back, Adrian had to pause.

Who was he to judge?

When he brought the coffee to your table, he’d planned to offer you a free muffin as a gesture of goodwill after that mountainous tip. But as he approached, his words faltered.

Gone was the polished, confident figure in an expensive suit who had walked in just moments earlier. Instead, you looked small, as though the weight of the world had folded you in on yourself.

You were slumped back in your chair, staring blankly out the window. The person who’d walked in moments before had vanished, replaced by someone far more vulnerable.

Your shoulders were hunched, your hands limp in your lap, and your eyes, distant and red-rimmed, spoke of a weariness that felt all too familiar.

Adrian had frozen, caught off guard by the rawness of your expression.

He knew that look.

It was the same one he used to see in the reflection of office windows late at night. Back when his days were filled with meetings, contracts, and expectations. Back when the weight of his father’s company pressed down on his chest, even in the rare moments of stillness.

World was harsh to all. But it made itself harsher for women. It forged the might of iron to shape them into the form that it deemed acceptable.   

Long ago Adrian had walked away from your world. World that never slept. Run by meetings, contracts, profits, grind. Adrian had left it for his mother’s cafe. To the world that smelled of roasted coffee and Mediterranean sandwiches. A glimpse of himself is perhaps what attracts him to you. Like a moth to flame, his heart follows.

Without a word, Adrian swapped the muffin for a sandwich. Sugar wouldn’t help someone who looked like they were barely holding it together. He set the plate down quietly, careful not to disturb you, and slipped away before you could respond.

Yet he saw it, the way you glanced down at the sandwich, brows furrowed in confusion, before hesitantly picking it up. Your movements were slow, deliberate, like someone unaccustomed to acts of care. Adrian had watched from a distance as you chewed, your expression softening ever so slightly.

You come during the quiet hours now, always slipping in like you’re sneaking moments away from something relentless. Adrian watches as you sit by the window, eyes tracing the slow crawl of traffic. He notices the way your shoulders loosen as the minutes pass, how the tension drains from your body in the comfort of the cafe’s stillness.

He doesn’t ask questions. Instead, he keeps leaving sandwiches by your coffee. Most of the time, you don’t finish them. He often finds the leftovers in the bin or in your hands as you leave, your fingers brushing crumbs from your lap.

Adrian doesn’t know why you linger in his mind. Maybe it’s the reflection of himself he sees in you, the person he once was, drowning in a world that demanded too much. Maybe it’s the quiet grief that clings to you, invisible to everyone else but glaring to him.

What he does know is that every time you walk out the door, holding a sandwich you’ll probably forget to eat, something inside him twists in ways he thought he’d left behind.

And so he keeps watching, keeps waiting. Because in the stillness of the café, he’s found something he never expected: a tie to someone who reminds him of what it’s like to need saving.

Patrick Len sent a meeting invite.

The notification flashes on your phone just as you’re about to place your usual order. The familiar chime of the Slack app makes your stomach turn, and for a fleeting moment, you imagine hurling the damned device off Mount Everest.

You suppress a groan, the simmering frustration bubbling beneath your skin. You’d just told Patrick about your lunch break, a rare and sacred 30 minutes of freedom. Yet here you are again, accepting the last-minute invite with the same resigned flick of your thumb.

As you place your order without even looking up, your mind replays the mechanics of your daily grind. The way your gaze always seems glued to your phone, your head perpetually bowed as if in servitude to the towering skyscrapers of the corporate hub that looms over your life. Every day, they press down on you, making it harder to breathe.

This time, you put your phone on silent with a little more force than usual, slamming it onto the table and fighting back the prickling sensation behind your eyes. You will not cry. Not until the handsome barista brings your coffee, at least.

By now, Adrian has probably witnessed a dozen of your near-breakdowns. Would one more really be that surprising?

There’s something about this cafe, though something that makes it impossible to hold back the cracks in your armor. It’s far enough from the looming heights of your office, just a 15-minute drive that feels like a lifetime away. Here, you don’t have to sit under the shadow of your desk, with its endless agenda waiting to devour your soul.

Here, you can breathe, if only for a moment.

You glance out the window at children skipping home from school, their laughter floating into the street. Middle-aged women huddle together, their grocery bags heavy but their conversations light. Dogs prance by with their owners, tails wagging, paws pattering. And then there’s Adrian, the barista who brings you the best sandwiches you’ve ever had, always with a smile that feels unearned.

In this tiny pocket of the world, no one is watching for your cracks. No one is calculating the sincerity of your smile or judging the perfect precision of your project briefs.

It’s liberating and miserable all at once. Liberating to step away from the chaos, but miserable to know how fleeting it is, how high the price is for chasing your so-called dream.

A silly dream, stubborn and relentless, the kind you can’t quite let go of no matter how much it costs you.

This cafe has become your refuge, the only place you allow yourself to slip from the relentless mold of perfection. A place where you let the cracks widen, if only a little, as you sit and let the world drift by.

Yet, this cafe is where you dare to let go of your shattered armor. And allow your nurse Joy (yes Pokemon Go had some great gems here) to allow you some healing with the most amazing hummus dressings.   

The $50 tips? Excessive, even by your standards. But you leave them anyway, for Adrian. For the barista whose eyes follow you with a softness you can’t quite understand, like a puppy waiting for a reason to stay close.

And maybe, just maybe, that’s why you keep coming back.