#adrian tepes imagines

[mellowkryptonitecloud]

Oh my God!!! I completely forgot about this series! I'm so glad there's another part!!! I can't wait for more, I love it soo much!!!!!❤️❤️❤️

Loving your work! If I may request a thing, we got Lisa, we got Vlad, can we get an Alucard too???? Have an amazing day!

Ask: Loving your work! If I may request a thing, we got Lisa, we got Vlad, can we get an Alucard too???? Have an amazing day! 

Ask: could you please continue modern reader with lisa and maibe some alucard x reader in there as well

A/N: I keep re-reading the first two parts just because they make me so happy thinking about what might’ve been. Of course, now that I know Lisa and Vlad end up together and are okay- I feel less awful rewatching S1. (That’s a lie, I have to skip that scene every time! 😭)

Fire Cannot Kill A Dragon (Part 3) 

In a flash, you, the good doctor, and the literal fucking Dracula appeared on the stone steps of what you assumed must’ve been their castle home. 

‘Holy fucking shit, this place is fucking huge!’ You couldn't believe what you were seeing. Standing before you was a colossal grotesque-looking castle. Extra towers and additions were maddeningly constructed, stemming from random points. The entire thing looked a holy mess of brick and mortar- a shrine to all that was powerful and wicked. You shuddered just thinking about the kind of beings who must have walked the halls of a structure so largely horrifying.  

Straining your neck back to get a good look, you found yourself wobbling out of the teleportation group hug you were just sandwiched in. 

“Are you alright?” The good doctor, Lisa, asked. 

You guffawed. “Am I, alright? Me?” You looked back and forth between her and the massive castle. Shaking your head in utter disbelief, you answered, “Oh yeah, I’m just peachy. Never better.�� 

Dracula paid your sarcasm no mind, clearly having more important things to tend to. Gently, he scooped up his wife before walking towards the immense entrance doors. Much to your continued amazement, the giant doors swung open automatically, as if by a motion sensor, but you knew that couldn't be right. This was like medieval times, they wouldn't have fucking motion sensors and automatic doors just yet. 

You scurried after the two of them, being forced to take extra quick steps to keep up with Dracula’s rather large gait. 

If the outside of the castle was noteworthy, then the inside was incredible. A giant red velvet throne sat in the middle of a central grand staircase. A lavish red carpet with gold trim and marble stone floor work was illuminated with what looked very similar to electric lights. In fact, despite the spectacular architecture, the whole place seemed relatively modern. But that was another impossibility, right? 

“Wow,” you spun around, dazed. “When you said, castle, you weren’t kidding.” 

“I told you,” Lisa answered, calling from somewhere behind her husband’s broad back. 

“So, now what?” You asked, following the two of them up the grand steps. 

“Now you can wait here.” Dracula’s powerful voice reverberated around the otherwise empty throne room. 

Lisa placed a hand on her husband’s chest. “Vlad! She’s injured as well, she needs to come with us.” 

You could hear the broad man grumble but argue nothing further. 

Following the two of them, you walked for what seemed like ages before arriving in a brightly lit laboratory. Once inside the room, you could see there were wooden benches and tables covered in glass vials of varying shapes and sizes and open books strewn across every other available surface. You had no clue what the vials contained, but everything seemed important. And nestled in the farthest corner of the room was a series of cots. 

The giant man that was Dracula appeared to levitate as he wove through the crowded tables before arriving at the nearest cot and placing his wife on the bed. Once she was settled, Lisa gestured for you to come and join her. 

Hesitantly, you walked over to where she was seated, grimacing at an up-close view of her blistering feet. “I uh, know you said you're a doctor, but those look pretty bad.” 

Lisa crossed her left leg, lifting her foot up to get a proper view. She hissed, glancing up at your horrified expression. “They’ll look worse in a couple of days,” she said, before turning her attention to Vlad. 

“My love.” Dracula bent over to kiss his wife on the head, before returning to his imposing full height. “I swear to you, I will do whatever is necessary to make you well. You will not know this pain for long. Whatever you wish for, I will get.” 

Lisa smiled, reaching for his hand. “Always so dramatic.” She said, pressing her soft lips to his clawed fingers. “I can heal this by human medicine alone. I’ve treated patients with worse burns before.” 

“Yes,” Vlad agreed, “But this time is different.” 

Lisa raised her left brow. “Oh? And how is that?” 

“Those stupid, little, puerile human lives were of no consequence- not to me, not to the world. But you…” Dracula stopped mid-sentence, once again dropping down to his wife’s height. “The rest of the world could burn, rot away like the selfish, useless beings they are, and none of it would matter, as long as you were safe in my arms.” 

Lisa pulled her husband’s large hand close to her cheek. “Please,” she begged, “Don’t let this undo all your hard work. I know, somewhere, deep down, you know it’s only because they don’t know any better. You can’t punish them for that. At least for now, please iubirea mea.” 

For what must’ve been the tenth time in the last half-hour, you stood there silently, feeling like the awkward third man out. You spent a moment picking at your fingers before taking in a breath and bravely cutting through the silence.

“So what exactly do you need?” Your words seemed to bring both parties' focus back to the present. 

“I’ll need some honey, my jar of willow bark as well as my willow tincture,” Lisa started. “A cut of aloe vera, and fresh goat's milk. Oh, and the good bandages- the fine linen ones from Egypt. And Vlad, take (Y/N) with you.” 

“Oh no,” you raised your hands in protest. “I don't want to get in the way of anybody or anything. I mean, you probably know the castle like the back of your hand- after all, you are Dracula,” you gestured to the giant vampire before you. “And I’d just get lost, so I should probably just stay here with you,” you finished, speaking to Lisa. 

“On the contrary,” Lisa countered, “I think it’s a perfect opportunity for the two of you to get to know each other. After all, if what my husband said about you is true, I can’t think of anyone better qualified to find you a way home.” 

‘She’s kinda got a point,’ you tilted your head to the side and shrugged your shoulders. “Okay, fine. I guess I’ll just go with your husband then. Dracula, I mean Vlad, uh, I mean Mr. Doctor Tepes.” 

Lisa pursed her lips to stifle her laugh while her husband rolled his eyes. 

“But if he eats me,” you whispered to Lisa before following Vlad out of the room, “It’s all your fault.” 

“Are you coming, silly little human?” Dracula’s contemning voice called expectantly from the hall. 

Speed-walking, you catch up to him just as he begins to ascend yet another staircase. 

“It’s uh (Y/N),” you said, not expecting much of a reaction. 

Dracula paused, causing you to crash right into his enormous rock-solid vampire back. 

‘Shit!’ You lept backward, holding your now smushed nose. ‘Was the guy made of fucking metal or something?’ 

“On second thought,” your voice sounded super nasally, “‘Silly little human’ is fine by me.” 

Dracula turned to face you, slowly, menacingly. At least that's how it felt to you. You supposed there wasn’t much he could do to not appear menacing, even if he tried. 

“Fine then, (Y/N),” he started. 

You shuddered at the sound of your own name. 

“Be useful and fetch the goat’s milk. Go back down the way we came. On the first floor instead of going right, go left. There’s a kitchen off the main hall. A little past that, there’s a door to the outside where two Bezoar goats are tied.” 

You nodded furiously, determined not to spite the supernatural man any further before speed walking to the staircase. 

A few moments later you were once again back on what Dracula referred to as ‘the first floor’, even if that made zero sense to you because as you recalled, you went up like two-and-a-half stairs just to get there in the first place, but whatever. You shrugged your shoulders.  

Traversing down the rather long hallway on your quest for the kitchen, you found yourself wondering if sticking around in this time period might be so bad after all. I mean to be fair, you weren't in some godforsaken village, surrounded by peasants covered in shit and burlap, no! You were in a literal frickin’ castle with the actual frickin’ Dracula as your host. 

‘Things could be worse,’ you reminded yourself. ‘I mean- hey!’ Coming upon the kitchen, you nearly jumped for joy. “Finally!” 

You slowed your pace, and kept walking, on the lookout for that exit Dracula mentioned. You found the dramatic door discreetly nestled in an equally elegant wall. You were impressed. It was becoming more and more clear to you that vampires certainly had an eye for the dramatic. 

Pushing through the heavy door, you were pleasantly surprised to find yourself standing on a tidied veranda where two goats stood happily munching on a bale of hay. 

‘Well, that’s convenient.’ You walked over to where the goats were tied. “Um, hi,” you waved. 

The goats said nothing. Not that you expected them to say anything, but maybe, at least, make some sort of goat noise in response. 

You tapped one on the back. “Excuse me, can I go get some milk, is that okay?” 

The goat continued munching. 

“Alright,” you slowly bent over, picking up one of the empty metal buckets that had been put off to the side. “So, I’m just gonna grab this guy here. And just come on down here.” You slowly kneeled next to one of the goats, peeking under them. You frowned, not exactly confident in your knowledge of goat anatomy. 

Taking a calming breath, you cast your apprehensions aside. Lisa was counting on you. And you really didn't want to give Dracula any more reason to hate you.

‘Okay, just find an udder and squeeze.’ 

Was that right? You had no idea. 

The goats didn’t seem to mind what you were doing however, so you continued on until you had gotten what you hoped was enough for whatever the doctor had in mind. 

“Alright then,” you stood, taking care to pat both of the goats. “Um, good job, er, thank you?” 

Again, the goats gave your presence no response. They merely stood there, continuing to much on their hay. 

Huffing, you and the bucket made your way back inside. ‘Don’t know why I fucking bother.’ 

Back inside the castle, you began the arduous trek back up to the laboratory. 

You were across from the laboratory entrance when you caught something white out of the corner of your eye. You assumed it was yet another grand tapestry you had missed on your initial walk-up, so you turned to get a better look, not expecting much. 

Boy, were you wrong. 

‘Holy fucking shit, that’s a wolf!’ 

A rather large and beastly-looking white wolf stood not ten feet from both you and the laboratory door. Its amber eyes regarded you with a glint of somewhat hostile curiosity. Not that it mattered to you. You were already so the hell outta there. 

Making a mad dash for it, you sprinted into the laboratory and slammed the doors shut behind you. The resounding noise called both Lisa's and Dracula’s attention over to you immediately. 

“Okay, so no one panic, but there is a wild animal in the hallway.” 

A very concerned Lisa and a very unamused Vlad shared a look. 

“You brought the goat with you?” She asked. “I doubt those were my husband’s instructions but that’s certainly not a reason to panic.” 

Overall, Dracula paid your outburst no mind. He merely went back to sorting supplies on the cot next to his wife. 

“Not a goat!” You whispered harshly. 

Lisa rolled her head to the side in sudden realization. Her worried expression melted away into a knowing smile. “Adrian,” she said to Vlad. 

“Mhm,” Dracula nodded, handing his wife a cleaning cloth. “The boy did always know how to make an entrance.” 

Lisa smirked, playfully poking her husband. “He gets that from you.” 

You put your head in your hands, frustratedly pulling the skin down as you ran your hands down your face. “Hold on, hold on… Let me get this straight. You,” you pointed to Lisa, “Are a doctor and you’re married to Dracula, aka you.” You then pointed at him. “And you said you had a son-” 

“Adrian,” Lisa interrupted. 

“Right, right. Adrian, who,” you pointed at the still closed door, “Is a werewolf?!” 

Dracula shook his head, disappointedly. “He’s half vampire, not half werewolf.” He handed his wife a small glass vial, invariably turning his attention back to her. “I thought you said she was rather clever for a human.” 

You rolled your eyes. “Look, all I know is that behind this door is a giant scary…” You swung open the lab door to demonstrate your point, only to come face to face with the most beautiful man you’ve ever seen.

Squeaking in shock, you slammed the door shut once again. 

“Could you please,” Dracula hissed out, “Stop slamming the door?” 

Inwardly you cringed. “Sorry,” you apologized sheepishly. 

“Excuse me,” a suave voice spoke from behind the door. “But do you not wish for me to enter?” 

“Adrian, darling! Of course, you can enter,” Lisa called to her son from where she lay resting on the cot. “(Y/N)’s just a little frightened that’s all.” 

You backed up, opening the door and allowing the actual freaking Adonis-looking figure before you to enter. 

God was he gorgeous. Like an elf, but in real life. He was tall and slender, but you could see the strength of his muscles from the strip of bare cleavage, left exposed by his loose white shirt and open black coat. His hair was the color of sunshine, so similar to his Mother’s. And his slender eyes reminded you of Dracula’s small but strong piercing ones. 

Walking past you, the stranger, well this Adrian, paid you little mind. Much like the goats and his Father, he didn’t even acknowledge you or say hello. 

‘Seriously?,’ you thought, ‘Is there something wrong with the men in this family?’ 

“Mother…” This Adrian fellow fell to his knees at the foot of Lisa’s cot. You watched his upper body begin to shake with sobs. 

Once again, you stood there awkwardly, silently watching the emotional scene unfold before you. 

As his son and wife continued their embrace, Dracula walked over to collect the bucket from you. 

“I uh, hope that’s enough.” You said. 

The great vampire nodded. “It will suffice for now.” He then headed over to a nearby table, where a stack of fresh linen bandages waited. A long-clawed finger beckoned you over. “Here,” he handed you several bandages, “Soak these in there.” 

“Uh, sure.” You started methodically adding dry bandages to the bucket, soaking them, and wringing them out so that they were saturated but wouldn’t drip. Every couple of bandages or so, you stopped to check up on the other two in the room. 

By the time you had finished dipping the bandages, the crying seemed to be over. 

‘Thank god.’ 

Once you finished, Dracula brought most of the linens back over to his wife. 

“Adrian,” Lisa wiped away the remainder of her tears with a sleeve of her Speakers robe. “Could you help (Y/N), while your Father continues helping me? She’s been burned too.” 

“Oh no,” you shook your head in protest. “I’m fine really.” But with the thought now in your head, it was impossible to ignore the growing pain in your feet. “Ow, shit.” Defeated, you grimaced, the reality of your wounds finally starting to sink in. 

Moving slowly, you removed your robe before taking a seat on the edge of one of the tables. Without the heavy fabric on the way you were able to cross your leg and bring your foot up, you frowned at the sight and smell of melted pleather. ‘Ugh. Well, that’s attractive.’

“Allow me,” slender hands appeared before you and began unlacing your boots. 

You looked up to find the impossibly gorgeous Adrian Tepes standings before you, now sans coat, seemingly ready to get down to the business of helping you. 

“Actually, there’s a zipper.” You said, turning your foot the other way to unzip your boot. “The laces are just for show.” 

Adrian nodded. “Fascinating.” 

“Yeah, I’m guessing those don’t show up until later.” 

Curious, Adrian looked over at his father. 

Dracula just shook his head. “(Y/N) claims to be from the future.” 

Adrian turned back to you, regarding you more skeptically. 

“The future or an alternate universe,” you supplied. “Not really sure which one yet.” 

“Future or not, you should allow me to remove those boots. There’s a good chance they’ve melded to your skin.” 

“What? No way,” you shook your head and proceeded to rip your boot off. Immediately, you felt a searing pain rip across the bottom of your foot. 

“Motherfucker!” You yelled, the pain so sudden and unexpected, you no longer cared about impressing your current company. 

Adrian, grabbed a sharp blade from the collection of items on the table next to you, seemingly indifferent to your new choice of language. “Told you.” 

“Wait, wait, wait! That doesn’t mean you have to cut my foot off.” You began scooching away from him. 

“This is to cut your other shoe off.” 

“Oh.” You stopped trying to escape. “Well, that makes more sense.” 

“Hmm,” Adrian hummed, getting started on carefully cutting away your other boot. “Your burns are less severe than my Mother’s, but they will still need cleaning and treatment.” 

You sucked in a deep breath as a particularly painful piece of the boot came off your skin. “Okay,” you managed to gasp out. “That’s fine.” 

“I want to thank you,” he continued. “For saving my Mother’s life.” 

“Oh, it was nothing,” you shrugged off his gratitude. “Really, I just did what any good person would’ve done.” 

“You did more,” Adrian took one of your hands in his. “Much more. Possibly more than you’ll ever know,” he glanced over at his Father. “The world owes you a great debt.” 

You half-laughed. “Oh, I don’t know about that.” 

“Perhaps. But at the very least, I, we, owe you a debt.” 

“A debt sounds like too much…” You argued. 

“Well,” Adrian thought for a moment, “How about a favor?” 

You nodded, slowly, coming around to the idea. “I could accept a favor.” 

“It’s a deal then,” Adrian held his hand outstretched for you to shake. 

You shook his hand before clicking your tongue and raising one of your burnt feet. “Do you think I could use that favor to try and keep my feet from turning necrotic and falling off?” 

The glamorous man that was Adrian grinned. “I should think so.” 

You smiled right back at him. “Then I would like that, I think.” 

He nodded, reaching for a dry bandage. “I think I’d, I mean we, would like that too.” 

┈

A/N: Do you notice how each installation in this series gets about 1k longer??? There should be a word for that. Also, kind of thinking up part 4, like maybe Adrian’s still worried about his dad’s plans because Dracula invites his generals to the castle so Adrian and (Y/N) set out to find a hunter & a scholar just in case they need to save Wallachia??? Not sure. Let me know. 

Translations: iubirea mea = my love 

Recipe for Lisa’s Burn Treatment: Honey (found in eastern Europe), tannins from Weeping Willow bark & tea (also found in eastern Europe), Aloe Vera (from Oman in northeastern Africa, which is southwest of Romania, and a port of trade as it’s by the Persian Gulf), and milk-soaked bandages made of fine linen (from Egypt). Remember- the castle’s a giant traveling machine. Sources for this Mostly Historically Accurate Burn Treatments (which is probably still horribly inaccurate but oh well): [x], [x], [x]

[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.

[omenics]

Calming down Alucard during a breakdown. Having him comfortably snuggled against reader's chest while a warm quilt cover them both, and she just rubs his back and lets him cry on her :(((((

𝐈 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐓𝐎 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔.

› ..a lovers comfort. — I LOVE YOU SM TYSM FOR THIS!! also so sorry its so short anon </3

Perhaps your touch was not enough to calm him, but you held him nonetheless. Your arms cradled his head to your chest, chin upon his head as a heavy quilt lay upon your bodies. He was cold, terribly so, but the heat of your supple flesh gave him comfort.

His tears stained your nightgown, seeping through to your breast. His arms held you tight, wrapped around your waist as his shoulders shook. A hand was entangled in his hair, the back of his head cradled by your palm. Your other hand rest between his scapulas, rubbing a soft, tender touch into his skin.

“Shhh.” You murmured, pressing a long kiss to his crown.

The weather weeped with him, rain pelting on the windows of the castle, thunder booming to echo his soft gasps. The sky lit a few times, illuminating a stormy blue sky. You knew he would apologize a thousand times the next morrow, asking for forgiveness that he did not need. He was a silly, silly man sometimes. He asked for your pardons of silly things, apologizing for ruining your nightdress with his tears, apologizing for his vulnerabilities.

But none of that made you hate him. None of that made you love him any less.

When he craved your comfort, you gave it to him. When he needed your touch, you gave it to him. When he wanted anything, you were there to offer it to him. For a thousand years he could be selfish, asking for your undivided attention, for your constant comfort, for your tender touches; and you would deliver. No words were needed to comfort his tears, only your warm, soft touches. Through his cooler temperature, your fingers sent heaps of warmth through his body, full of a lovers comfort.

[smallestapplin]

Since Dracula is a vampire basically dead he’s cold, and Lisa was human making her warm, that Alucard being a mix of the two is anemic and despite being warmer than a vampire, he’s colder than a human and likes to wrap up in his cape cause it’s cozy.

But this also means that when it comes to you he naturally gravitates to you.

When sleeping in bed you two could start off on your own sides, but you’ll always wake up to him curled around you and legs tangled with yours.

But on the flip side, he gets a laugh watching you jump when he surprises you with a cold hand under your shirt.

Or you crying out he’s “too damn cold! Heat thief!”

It brings him such joy to hear it ringing throughout your shared home.

you’re his warmth, his blanket, his warm home to come back to.

-

🔞NSFW BELOW🔞

-

Though he does love making you tremble as his cold hands slide down your sides, holding your heated skin.

Or enjoying having you in his lap, your back against his chest and your legs spread, just for him to slowly bring a hand down and make you jolt, gasping from the cold touch of his hand on your sex.

[dragongirlpoet]

Dark Signs

Part II

<Read Part I here>

Alucard x female reader

Synopsis: You asked Alucard for a favour. Now you have to be careful what you wished for. (3.5k words) "To be born a dhampir is to be born a monster" - Vampire Hunter D

TW: Dark fantasy, horror & gore elements, blood, SMUT (Alucard is feral in this one) Explicit 🔞

Here's hoping you'll enjoy this too! Sorry it took longer than expected, I was unwell and didn't want to put out a story I wasn't proud of. Thank you for reading!

Also to @skychaser777 hope you can sleep after this 😉

The hollow stone walls echoed my shaky breaths, caving them in, the thumping of my heart violent in my ears. My skin was pricked with goosebumps, foreboding dire dwellings. 

“Baby, what’s wrong?” Absurd question, considering everything was inherently far from right. 

There had only been one instance where I felt unsafe with Adrian. 

Located in the underbelly of Wallachia was a forgotten catacomb, a labyrinth where the dead and undead alike convened. I had been extracting bile from slaughtered night creatures, told to render powerful salves when mixed with mint, myrrh and…other herbs. 

Body sticky with sweat and hands grimy from reaching into revolting guts, I was almost to my fifth vial when a guttural growl stopped me dead in my tracks. 

From the marrows of a tunnel, a numbing cold, laced with strangled gnawing, reverberated through the passageways.

Every fibre of my being told me to run, alas I had all but the impudence of a child. Unsheathing my iron dagger, ensorcelled to wound even the most vile, I treaded warily towards my impending doom.  

The sight that awaited me was sickening. Crouched over bodies upon bodies of night creatures was a pallid, mangled man? His face was buried in their carcasses, marring at their flesh, lapping at their blood. 

Before I could take another breath, the man turned, face smeared with ravaged viscera and foul, curdled blood. He had hair like the purest wisps of wheat and eyes like dark, desecrated graves. 

I choked back a gasp.

“You foolish, foolish girl. You are not prepared for the evil that lurks here, feeds here..” his bellow was deafening, diabolical. Blood spilled from his fangs, splaying his torso tainted with innards and rotten flesh.

“Wh..who are…you?” I paced backwards as he stalked towards me.

“You don’t know who I am? Most fascinating…” he offered a smile so sinister, as if he had stumbled upon the most naive of fools he was soon to devour.

“I am the sun…rain…the darkness. I am sin made flesh and I am whom you should most fear. I am Alucard, son of Vlad Dracula Tepes.”

A loud “smash” rattled through the room as I retreated into our wooden dresser, knocking over a prized hourglass Alucard so often used to practise his script. The pair of glowering molten eyes trailed me — never blinking, burning caverns into my soul. 

I shifted my gaze downwards to avoid stepping into glass, but that was regrettably the least of my worries. Lifting my stare, those eyes were gone — quick as spectres passing through dimensions. 

Our chamber fell into a boundless black, and my human sight could not adjust acutely enough to the darkness. I flailed my arms about willing to grasp onto anything that could give me some bearing. Anxiety crept through me like poison ivy ensnaring a forsaken home. 

“Adrian? Stop this please! This isn’t funny.” The volatile rhythm of my heart suddenly became too loud, too unbearable. 

No amount of breaths could repress my violent trembling. A faint flicker from the corner caught my eye — Alucard’s heirloom sword. If his magical estoc was there…he is still in the room with me. 

The hairs on my arms shot up, little by little.

Out of nowhere, forceful, ice cold hands prised around my throat, yanking me out of my state of terror. From behind, Alucard, voice grave like a thousand infernal souls, growled into my ear, 

“Do you understand the gravity of what you’re asking?”

Whether it was fear or the vice-like grip around my neck, I couldn’t speak.

“Answer me.” 

He clamped tighter.

”Ye…yesss,” I wasn’t telling a lie. 

“Then let’s finish what we started, shall we?”

One minute I was in Alucard’s death grip, the next I was shoved, hard, into the stone wall, my face chafing against the abrasive mortar. I winced at the pain.

“You’re hurting me, Adrian!” 

Behind, he tightened his grip on my wrists, binding them into the small of my back. 

“Am I? Ohh…but you like danger, don’t you?...His other hand reached down to unfasten his pants, his erect cock sliding out… “You are drawn to the darkness, just as I am.” 

He trailed the words up and down my neck, pausing ever so subtly to savour the scent of blood in my veins. 

A small bead of sweat started trickling down my face…no, no, it was blood — from my collision with the wall.

Alucard went eerily still again. I felt a shift in his countenance, like a malevolent cloud obliterating sunshine. 

He was hungry.

With one knee, he forced my legs apart and hauled my nightdress up, my backside fully exposed. I could feel the tip of his length against my rear — throbbing, impatient. He snaked his hands all over my naked body, grabbing at my breasts, digging into my thighs. 

The scent of my blood set his every carnal need aflame. 

Adrian had always been prudent — he would excuse himself at the slightest scent of my exposed blood, isolating himself in the castle dungeons for hours, as if he deserved it. Deserved to be punished for his beastly urges, deserved to be condemned for being born a monster. 

Every blood-month I had would send him away for days — “I don’t want to hurt you. You’ve seen what I become when I feed… I’ll just be hunting, it’d be just a few days, and your cycle would end when I’m back,” he would say with a smile. A sad smile.

And I was utterly tired and heartbroken that my Adrian, so kind and full of love, would admonish himself, rip his spirit to shreds, for a fate that had been unfairly handed to him. I was going to end this, tonight.

Alucard nuzzled his face into my hair, taking in all my smells, heaving. His body was unyielding against mine — elegant marble against bewitching velvet. I could hear his vampiric heartbeat ringing in his ears, drowning out all sense of reason. He was an animal in heat. 

“You know I cannot control myself around you. And you know what your blood does to me… Do you know how long I haven’t fed?” 

His writhing cock was brandishing my cunt, starving for my hole.

“Do you know I think about what it’s like to have your blood in my veins? How much I want it, need it, desire it. 

How much I want my blood in you. And you ask this of me, tonight, when I’m sitting at the precipice of hunger and lust…”

There was a sharp intake of breath. 

“Hmmm you don’t know what’s coming for you. Once I do this there’s no turning back. 

Do you know how long I’ve been holding out for you? To be better for you. And now you ask this of me…”

At that he yanked at my hair, forcing my head to fall back. The red trace on my cheeks bowed complete to his mercy. 

Staring defiantly into his eyes, I said, “Do it, Adrian. I want you to.” 

Danger, danger.

A devious smile tugged at his lips. Alucard skimmed my neck with his mouth, bruising it with reckless kisses and parlous nips. He moved precariously to suck at the aquamarine veins running down my breasts, licking slow circles about my nipples. He was a wolf dallying with his food. 

A true vampire, hedonistic even in the slightest of pursuits, moving inevitably to the blood trail. He had waited so long for this. 

Alucard pushed his lips delicately into my face, afraid of spilling even the smallest of drops. My blood was a sacred river, a bath of worship he would praise forever. Shaking, he ravened the scarlet off my face, sucking at the open cut, willing for more. 

He was a mixture of muffled moans and enthralled ecstacy.

It was exhaultant. I adored being able to give Adrian what he most craved. 

Drinking in more than necessary, the whites of his eyes were no longer — entire sockets now overtaken with crepuscular crypts darker than the blood moon that hung outside.

Alucard’s cock twitched beneath me, length growing harder and bigger by the second. Grunting, he pumped his sex and slid it against my pussy. I was light-headed with anticipation, but he had merely fondled my folds, prodding at my entrance, testing to see how wet I was.

Perhaps he had been right. Perhaps a dissolute part of me yearned for the darkness, but what I’d wanted most of all was to know that I had years, centuries — immortality, to be with Adrian. 

Head over my shoulder with eyes like lacquered obsidians, he interlaced his fingers with mine, bringing them down to press at my clit. Flagging off from my most sensitive spot, he traced them up my body, slowly, torturously. 

“I wonder…” fingers caressing my abdomen… “how far up…” I gasped as he adjusted them higher… “my cock will go when I’m deep inside you…” Alas settling on a spot above my navel.

A sacred river spawned between my legs. 

Incapable of restraint any longer, I reached back to stroke his shaft, thumb stimulating his tip until his pre-load creamed my fingers. I lathered his fluids, relishing in the feel of his hallowed flesh tethered to my hands. 

“Fuuuck.” Alucard bristled against my touch, face buried in my neck. Below, he was thrusting at my entrance, not yet entering, readying me for his carnal devotion. 

”Adrian please, I need you. I want you inside…”  

His last thread of resolve snapped. He rammed his boner into me from behind, stretching me, engulfing me. My tender walls were a haven to his brutal thrusts, welcoming him in. Cock barely to his hilt, he spread my bottocks apart, plunging his engorged member in. 

“Ahh…ahh…” I whimpered, hands braced on the wall. 

“How are you still so tight…” he hissed, enraged he couldn’t yet feel all of me.

My fingers weaved into his hair, tugging as I leaned further back into him. This feral urge, I craved it. It was scarce enough to satiate the searing lust in me, so I ground impiously against his length like the unholy girl he wanted me to be. 

Tonight, he was to have his way. He was the nefarious overlord and I was but a malleable zealot. My hips were firmly held down by his hands — he wanted to control my rhythm. I was, afterall, his submissive little prey. 

Alucard forced his cum-stained fingers into my mouth, swirling them about the insides of my cheeks, wresting in and out of my plush lips. I licked at them greedily, suckling on his taste. He was so deft — hands and length penetrating me in a lyrical sync, sating me above and below.

I gagged when he stuck his fingers further down, my throat wedging tight. Tears rimmed my eyes but I continued hollowing my cheeks, head bobbing. “Such a good girl…” praising as he brushed hair off my face. I was to appear immaculate while being fucked indecent.

Hypnotised by his bulge assaulting my hole, I bit sinfully on his index, tearing his skin. He pulled out from my mouth, eyes transfixed on the blot of blood. 

“You’re being a naughty little lamb tonight…” His smile was insidious, like a serpent suffocating its meal.

My vampire smothered his blood over my parted lips. My tongue grazed over it, wiping it clean like I was the one writhing in blood lust. What I did had Alucard under a powerful spell. He plummeted his smug into me, our kisses heedless, crashing into each other in depraved lust. 

We sucked and bit them swollen, both of us unrestrained and shameless of our monstrous love. Under, he continued hammering his heat into me, hand pushing my cunt back to swallow more of him.

Alucard was never one to trifle with a perfect opportunity. Hands at his favourite spot, he rubbed his digits forcefully at all the places his cock didn’t already fill. My knees buckled at once from overstimulation. 

“Stay.” He landed a firm smack onto my soaking sex… “Still.”

“Or I won’t let you cum.” An order.

He bent me over, my backside raised to allow him easy entry. I compelled my wobbly legs to stand, muscles quivering at my bones.

“Good. Hands on the wall.” 

Like his obedient little lamb, I hoisted my arms on the cold stone, squeezing taut around my feral wolf.

I was begging, moaning his name, my being in complete disarray.

Content with how tight I was clenching around his shaft, Alucard drove his erection mercilessly into me, pounding so hard I was lifted off the ground. 

I cried out in pleasure and pain. “Adrian! Adrian please…”

“You like it when I’m rough with you, baby? You want me to turn you, and fucking you senseless comes with it,” he spat in between thrusts, dragging hair away from my ears to ascertain I could hear him loud and clear. 

I was so deliciously filled my lewdness spilled out onto my legs. Paths of sweet nectar trickled down my trembling thighs, glazing his girth with my wicked desire. 

I was so close.

Smelling my arousal and imminent climax, Alucard slammed faster into me, his own pace losing cadence. 

We were so close. 

He had everything timed perfectly. Just as he had countless times before — night creatures and wild animals — all unsuspecting pawns to his blood thirst. He was adept at hiding his deplorable little secret, but I knew better. 

Fangs fully exposed, he grazed them masterfully over my neck, humming at my veins and arteries. Quite like a skilled chef discerning food, he was choosing which would taste most exquisite. My scarlet vessels were pulsing in tempo with my heartbeat — palpitating, quivering, waiting.

“Are you frightened? I can feel your terror in my bones…” villainy laced his snarl like a wolf finally rid of sheep’s clothing. 

I had to inhale gulps of air to articulate my words, “No….” But what I said or what I thought mattered no longer. Gone was Adrian — human, moral, benign. A bestial, debased monster, instead, all consumed him. 

Soulless eyes searched me once more, as if to forewarn me about my perilous decision, as if the human in him was straining to break free of his chains to stop this atrocity.

There was no turning back now.

I offered my neck to him, reckless, bloodstreams on full display. At last, with Alucard’s throbbing cock still stuffed full inside, I felt the firestorm in my core and the crushing torrent soon overcame me. 

My release tonight felt different — cathartic. I was once again the delicate driftwood being dragged underwater — careless, aimless, going where the current took me. My limbs fell limp at my sides, my spirit devoid of vigour. And I knew why. 

Alucard’s fangs were buried in my neck, drinking my blood as if a divine offering. When did he bite me? I felt no pain, only a rapture so heavenly I ached for more. 

And so drink he did. Rivers of blood coated his lips, crimson tributaries surging down his throat. He sucked and lapped at my vital spark, clawing at my body so arduously as if I was the most cherished jewel of immeasurable value. 

Like a vampire deprived of debauchery, he drank me in like sweet sin. He had no beginning and no end. And rightfully so. I was profoundly proud of my Adrian. At long last, he no longer had to be ashamed of who he was. He was liberated. He was free. 

My racing heart was now a supine hum. I lay naked — pliant and frozen in his arms. The sleepy swell of the ocean lulled me into the black nothingness. I was rising and falling, so in harmony with the current.

Above, hazy sunbeams fractioned the waves like sparkling diamond necklaces. Beneath, the sombre abyss tugged at my essence, diffusing all manner of light. The ominous depth, though a macabre embrace, was one so full of promise. It was beckoning to me, calling my name — stay, stay, stay…

—

I awoke to a pall of infinite blackness. 

I had been dreaming. There were shadows — silhouettes, of people I couldn’t quite make out. They were whispering, a sonnet of hurried voices, as if going somewhere, but nowhere at the same time. Then there was a lambent flame — the colour of pale amber, always in the distance but never near. Always tailing, always watching…

Where was I? 

I could see nothing, hear nothing. I shifted slightly, and my shoulders were met by cool textile — silk? As more of my senses reconciled, I felt the mattress below me, a satiny divan not reminiscent of my bed. Muted was the air, hollow was the roof, and

…algid was my skin. 

I was in a coffin.  

Panic coiled through the ridges of my ribs, puncturing my heart like lethal thorns. I clawed and pounded at the wood…was I buried alive?

Alas, like the caves of hell being vaquished by divine light, the casket slid open, and I clambered onto a sprawling granite floor. I was heaving, frantic to take in air, clamouring at my chest as if ghostly hands were crushing my heart, splintering my valves. 

Where was Adrian?

A succession of torches adorned the upper vaults, the mellow ebb of light suddenly becoming glaring to my eyes, as if I had been staring directly at the sun. I could make out the phosphorescent ripples and saffron hues that wreathed the flames. 

The air smelled vaguely of mildew and crumbling concrete, while the scampering of rodents in between masonry thundered in my ears. I could hear them squeaking, the sounds of their bones compressing while they squeezed through cracks and crevices. 

I could hear their heartbeats — tiny surges of blood in their capillaries. 

Such fragile little things, I wonder what they’d feel when they’re crushed by the force of my teeth. If they’d feel pain, if any at all, as I drain them dry…

I was so, so hungry. 

My awareness had heightened ten-fold, the anarchy of it all confounding whatever human that was left in me. The sensation of everything all at once was too much to bear and I covered my ears to drown out the distress. 

Futile efforts indeed. 

“Adrian? Adrian…” My voice hoarse from wheezing.

Was this what he had to endure? Being so akin with the presence of entirety, enough to render one insane. Was this why he had been so loath to turn me?

I hauled myself off the ground, bidding my legs to what looked to be a door. Scarce a blink had passed than I was face to face with a metal threshold — intricate lineations etched faintly onto the frame. 

“Willing blood of the Raven Maiden,” — Enochian, words of ancient bygone, but Adrian and I had been avid philologists.

I didn’t concern myself with whether the translation had in fact referred to my blood, but I sank my fangs — a lurid extension — into my wrist and smeared them over the threshold. 

The magicked portal transported me to a bed chamber, a former bed chamber, now resembling the crux of a dense forest.

Creepers cleaved through stone, while poison vines slivered across furniture. Rich moss clung to the bed frame, eating away at the tulle canopy, embedding itself into rotted linen.

That chaise…it was ours. 

Horror flooded my senses as I glanced furtively around. 

Our armoire, our settee, our desk. 

Strewn across the floor, some shredded by tree roots dissecting the wooden panelling, lay stacks of disintegrating parchment like remnants of forgotten lore.

Vampiric speed overtaking, my eyes scanned the moth-eaten pages over. 

“Come back to me.”

“Come back to me.”

“Come back to me.”

I choked on my tears. 

“To be born a dhampir is to be born a monster.”

They fell like glass, shattering on the ink, eroding the paper more.

How long had I been asleep for?

“No, no, no…”  I wept into the emptiness, anguish imprisoning my lungs, blocking off air. In spite of being undead, I had a heart, and it bled — it bled crimson, pain and grief. It bled with all the words I wished I could take back. 

It bled with all the ache that I might never see Adrian again. 

I scoured the castle. Every tower, every room, every dungeon, each a shell of its former mirth. The scenes ran parallel  — overgrown foliage, wrecked furnishings, pillars atrophied by decay. Our home had been eaten away by the curse of time. There was no sign of life, no essence of Adrian. 

With a threshing hole in my heart, I raced past the lattice of abandon toward the main doors. As the iron portcullis lifted, I recoiled at the hell that awaited me. 

There, in the blistering winter, impaled upon rows and rows of stakes, dangled festering corpses of night creatures…and humans. 

What have I done?

Part I

[ruiniel]

Sorry you’re sick! 💕 if I’m too late no worries, & no worries if this isn’t a good suggestion (been feeling very uncreative recently)

But any fluffy hc’s of Adrian with a reader who’s really affectionate?

(😭cuz I just wanna give him a hug)

You're never too late 🖤 thank you for this, needed something soft...

(these are all SFW and might add more to the post as ideas come, or make a follow up post. If you or anyone want a NSFW version of any of these, just pop into my ask box!)

◈ If you pad into a room and find him slumped in his chair, unresponsive as he sometimes gets, your first impulse is to leave him be, trying to give him space. Still, it comes difficult to just turn and leave. Minutes later you'll hear knocking at the door of your chambers; he'll be standing there, with his shoulder propped against the door frame and a gaze filled with silent longing. If you hug him then and there, he'll respond with no hesitation, mumbling the question in your hair: why did you leave? He'll apologize for his states, and smile when you say it's nothing, because who can keep their inner struggles bottled up all of the time? There is no need for masks between you.

◈ Sitting in bed together, Adrian sprawled on his back with his head resting in your lap, telling you how warm and good you feel, that you're his home. He'll sigh, content, lashes fluttering lazily as you play with his disheveled hair, as you lean to place shallow kisses on his lips from time to time, just because you can. Some are soft nibbles, others are nips and licks and you do this until his eyes glitter with pleasure and his skin is blushed down to his scarred chest. No words, just you and him, sharing each other's warmth.

◈ Mornings are early or late, depending on what you each have to work on, but you often awaken with his arm around your waist, his nose nuzzling the nape of your neck. If you move, you're getting dragged right back into him, tighter than before, with whispers of 'A few more minutes...'

◈ He cooks for you when he can. He loves it, finds the process soothing, and thinks fondly of your little praises once you savor the meal together. You're usually there, asking questions, dropping the flour, hugging him when he least expects it. He wouldn't trade such moments for the world.

◈ You sometimes have a glass of wine too many; usually it's an occasion, one where you both had plans which, of course, never happen since now Adrian's carrying you up to bed, himself tipsy and listening to all those little nothings you share in a slurred voice, rubbing your cheek against his chest. Sometimes those words make him blush and clear his throat. He's patiently tucking you in, even with you tugging clumsily at the lacing of his shirt, dragging him down for a kiss and arching your body into him. 'Tomorrow, dear. Tomorrow, I promise,' he'll say, red as a beet and with half a mind to give in to your drunken request, before disentangling himself from your weak grasp and pulling a blanket playfully over your head. He does return, later, however, snuggling beside you when you're fast asleep.

◈ When his past returns to haunt, he'll sometimes have nightmares, straining up so suddenly you'll wake from your own slumber. If you sit up in bed and call his name, he'll turn to stare at you with a gaze so lost your heart will ache in your chest. At a silent invitation, your arms extended towards him, he'll curl up to you. He'll hug your middle, press his face into your side, clinging to you until the ghosts fade.

◈ Sitting by the bath basin wrapped in nothing but a towel, washing his hair. You enjoy it and so does he, you're attuned by now to the soft moans that leave his throat as you massage careful circles along his scalp. He marvels at how good you are, how tension dissipates from him at your touch. And you love lathering those dark gold strands, running soapy fingers down his skin, over the muscles rippling beneath. Sometimes, he'll turn to look at you in a way that quickens your heart and next you know you're being lifted and placed snugly in his lap in the bath, skin slippery against his, his long hands traveling up and down your back until you fall against his chest, purring, he says, like a kitten.

◈ That's what he calls you, by the way. You're his kitten and he's your wolf, and some of the most thrilling words you'll ever hear from him will be when his eyes are glazed over and his stare is languorous as he lounges in an armchair. His voice, a meld of need and demand. 'Come here, kitten.' He leaves you breathless when he acts that way, and you always go, loving the way black swallows the gold in his irises the closer you are.

[aiizenn]

men who constantly send you money so you can get your nails and lashes done. of course it’s for your own benefit, but also for his. it turns him on—they’re perfect for giving head. his cock hardens when he feels your hand around him with beautifully done nails. not too long and not too short, just the perfect size to feel them with your grip. you give his tip kitty licks as your other hand makes its way to his abdomen, feeling his tense muscles.

“that’s it, such good little slut.” dirty praises leaving his lips. “eyes up princess” and you listened. your doe eyes decorated with lashes, every blink made you look more innocent and desperate. “so pretty f’me, on your knees, with my cock in your mouth, yeah” every word making you want more, so you take in his length and start bobbing your head. both hands on each side of his hips, as you deep throat him. his large hands gripping your hair and pulling you in. your throat aching from the roughness, your breath is limited but that doesn’t stop him. “keep lookin’ at me” your eyes flutter as you make contact with him once again. the lashes adorning your eyes that were filled with tears.

he hisses when he feels your nails on his hips; tagged with the gagging sound that echoed the room. his length pulses in your mouth as his climax reaches, small curses fall from his mouth when he pulls you in one last time. there is a loud ‘pop’ sound when he removes himself from you and releases his hot creamy cum on your face. tapping his cock on your lips to open wide and drink every drop. his strong grip picks you from the floor and throws you onto the bed. “you sucked me dry, sweetheart. now it’s my turn.” he growls as he buries his head in your needy cunt. your pretty nails playing with his hair for more, like a good little slut.

༊ * · ˚ shunsui, urahara, renji, gin, toji, nanami, geto, gintoki, hijikata, eren, reiner, kishibe, kakashi, million knives, adrian tepes, uzui

[sweeteaahunbun]

Don't you just... want to admire Adrian as he smile? With his fangs showing, carefree as he laughs, the softness in his sharp gaze...

He looks at you with a questioning face that makes you turn away or else your heart may escape from your chest.

He ask you what's wrong and you simply tells him.

"Your smile... it's beautiful..."

He gives you a soft smile. A tender one...

"You're beautiful too."

[nocturn-warrior]

Fall onto him like a pillow

Alucard x reader

Summary: Alucard feels sad and you decide to chill him up

Rating: fluff, smut, angst

Warnings: oral (male receiving), mentions of traumas, feeding (in a non kinky way), body worship (male receiving), kinda sub Alucard, reader's gender is not specified but i wrote this thinking about a female

This fic was inspired by @kundool 's adorable fanart

sorry if it has a bad writting, i literally lost all my progress because tumblr didn't save it and posted the incomplete fanfic.

It was a normal fall grey sort of day. You and Alucard had bought some groceries at the village. Even though the villagers insisted in giving their products freely to you two after all you and your friends have done for them, Alucard felt it was not fair to simply accept the groceries they put they worked so hard during the year. So Alucard and you would always bring them old itens that were only accumulating mold and memories.

All was well, so far. He greeted the old ladies, played with the orphans who became your children at heart and happilly chose the groceries in the wooden boxes.

But comming back home as you were sniffling a wild rose you have picked from a bush and rambling about funny events and gossips the old ladies have told you during your brief statement, you noticed Alucard stood stoic and silent, just answering your words with quick chuckles, not continuing the conversation and keeping his head bowed down

Usually he would connect your thoughts with his, adding something quirky or an accid comment about the situation, but not today.

"Adrian? Is everything alright?"

You ask, slowing your pace and making him look at you. He takes some seconds to answer a languid "yes, i am just mentally tired". He wasn't alright, you knew. You don't insist, though. Just follow your way towards the castle, trying to pull a true smile from his face but the results are the same.

The wide doors of the castle open as you two approach and close once you are inside. Alucard's behavior is more of the same; he helps you to place the groceries at the kitchen, but remains silent. A deep breath leaves his mouth before he turns towards the door.

"I am going to read a bit, my dear."

Although you wanted to comfort him, respecting Alucard's alone moments was something you tried your best to do. He isn't a child, after all. But you can't resist to the urge of comforting your lover.

"Adrian, here..."

You say, placing the wild rose you've collected behind his ear. You caress his chin:

"If you need me, i am here, alright?"

He smiles understandably before desappearing in the dark hallways of your home way to your chambers.

The hours pass by. You distract yourself sewing some torn spots in your clothes you don't even notice sun is starting to set. You must have dozed off.

Immediatly, your mind goes to Alucard. You fear his isolation was a form of asking for your comfort amd you just left him alone with his thoughts.

Quickly climbing up the almost infinite stairs, you reach your bedroom and before you could even thump your finger onto the door, you hear that unmistakable sniffling you've heard so many times before.

He hated when you saw him like that, no matter if you have already done it one million times. But you had to comfort him.

The dhampir who was knealing down in front of the bed, face buried in the plush cushion, has a little jumpscare when you sudden open the door and quickly wipes away the tears with the loose silk of his shirt. As if a simple motion could hide he was crying for hours.

"Aw, Adrian my love..."

You rush to him, knealing down by his side and placing caressing his back softly as he tries to put himself together. Adrian didn't know why exactly he was crying so no words could possibly leave his throat. It was only a deep, rooted feeling of dispair and grief.

All he did was turn to you, swallowing his tears before they could drown him. In moments like these, all he craved was your touch. You open your arms to him and Adrian quickly attaches himself onto your body, head resting against your chest as he sniffles looking at an empty spot of the room.

While caressing his back in soothing motions like a mother calming down a sobbing baby, you have an idea of how you could calm him down: cooking his favorite treat; strawberry muffins filled with jam, and a nice cup of chamomille tea.

You wait until he has completly calmed down so you could pull off from the hug and prepare the little surprise for your lover.

"You wet all my shirt with your tears, my love. Do you have a water dam behind those pretty eyes of yours?"

You joke to make sure he is completly fine and you can feel the vibrations of his chuckling as he is still with his head against your bosom. Slowly you pull off and tilt up his chin:

"Take some bath, my love. Dress a comfortable nightgown, get cozy in bed and wait for me. I will prepare something that will chill you up"

Curiously, Alucard nods his head, looking at you with those dewy amber eyes which long lashes are glued due to the tears. He already imagines what you are going to do and he would love to help you with the baking, but you insist for him to rest.

You want to spoil him that night in every way possible.

Alucard takes some minutes to put himself together looking at a spot in the room and envying it's emptiness. He wishes he could rest his mind just for a second, forget all of those thoughts that crushed him. But following your sweet order, the dhampir heads to the bathing room. He fills up the tub with huge buckets and relaxes in it.

All the while you are preparing the dough of the muffins, looking in an old book of recipes that belonged to Lisa. Your lover and you always look for an advice in this tome, cooking together is one of your favorite activities.

Fourty minutes later, Alucard is already settled nicely on bed. His hair is wet and loose, he wears his usual white nightgown and hugs your pillow, sniffling it to pretend this is your body. That way, tears wouldn't come back.

Checking out the muffins, you smile widely seeing they are already baked, and with a cooking glove, you pick up the sweet treats. The scent was so good Alucard could feel it from your room.

You place the small cakes in a plate. Four of them: two for you, two for Alucard. And while you wait for them to cool up a bit, you prepare the chamomille tea.

The door delicatedly opens and Alucard's eyes light up seeing you enter holding the plate. If he was crying you couldn't tell, but some little sniffles leave his nose before he sits up properly.

In the moment he smoothly moves, you can see your lover is not wearing underwears, which causes tingles in your groin, but you try to focus on pampering him with you cooking.

"Here"

You sit by his side, brushing his hair behind his ear and placing the plate on top of a pillow. Slowly, you cut a piece of the muffin, the hot strawberry jam drips from it, and takes a forkful towards Alucard's mouth.

The man softly hums, his eyes squinting together adorably as he appreciates the bite. You clean the jam from the corner of his lips and lick it from your finger.

"Do you like it?"

Alucard nods, his expression is no longer miserable as the one he had hours before, though his face is still puffy from crying.

"Thank you for doing these things to me even when i don't deserve"

He says with a sad smile. You hate to see Adrian put himself down like this. It took you so much time to make him forgive himself and perceive his own qualities that every breakdown felt like it all was starting again. Once he swallowed the bite, you gently shove another forkful into his mouth.

“You deserve this and so much more.”

You smile, seeing his cute surprised expression. Leaning your head onto his shoulder, you watch Alucard grab the book he was reading before you arrived and the two of you share the muffins while reading out loud, switching the narrator from page to page.

Alucard gives the delicious muffin a last bite and finishes drinking the chamomile tea. Leaving a pleased relaxed sigh, he leaves the empty cup and the book over the nightstand. Your heart instantly flutters, seeing how your love appreciated your little spoiling.

Through the thin silk of his nightshirt, you could see the pink tone of his cock. You itched to, instead of attaching your lips onto the strawberry treat, suck on his shaft until his so much sweeter seed spilled into your mouth. You wanted to drive him mad with pleasure.

“How do you feel now?”

You ask, finishing your tea. He was visibly feeling better now, though his face was still puffy from the previous crying and his eyes were still red. The dhampir chuckles, softly patting his toned abdomen:

“Full.”

“Show me, then.”

You grin and Adrian knows exactly your game, but he plays is obliviously, slowly rising up the nightshirt and showing his almost imperceptibly distended torso along with that pretty thin waist of his and of course, his pink flushed cock which head rested on the plush bed.

God, you wanted to worship every inch of his body: from his collar, his chest, to his godly abs. how could a being be so magnificently, ethereally beautiful? Alucard looked like the incarnation of Apollo and you wanted to praise that body of his so hard, you couldn’t contain your arousal now.

Your fingers traced around his nipples, travelling down to his stomach. Alucard's heartbeat increased as you felt onto him like a pillow, pinned him down on the bed and started kissing from his neck to down his bellybutton, touching and praising every inch of his skin.

Stopping in there, you looked down at his blushy face, eyes begging for you to slid lower and lower. But you wanted to hear the words coming from his sweet lips:

"Love, please"

He whimpers and you smirk, scooting down until you are knealing but your higher body is over his groin, his cock juts on your chest, hard and urging to be sucked.

When he felt the heat of your mouth meeting his cock, Adrian gripped onto the she sheets. His golden hair was spread on the bed like sunlight in a lake. You begin slowly, twirling your tongue around the pink head as your hand caressed his balls.

Then, with half of the length into your mouth, you sucked it vigorously, making beautiful moans come from Alucard's throat. He is seeing heaven and squirms to the sight of it.

You hold his hips on the bed as he squirms in pleasure and feels the dash of seed climbing up his urethra, the movements you make are sensual but passionated, and all the while you look into his eyes.

His warm sperm fills up your taste buds as Alucard leaves one last but sluttiest moan. You release his cock with an audible popping sound, sitting up on bed and peering down at him with a smirk.

Just seeing your beloved in a trance of pleasure makes you wet. He is receiving the treatment he deserves. A tear of pleasure slids down his cheek as his chest rises and falls.

Putting himself together, Alucard sits up in a swift, smooth motion. He smiles gidly at you, dressing his nightwear again.

You reach out to cup his heated cheeks, they were no longer red because of crying, but because of love. You place a wet kiss on his skin, his long eyelashes flutter like the wings of a butterfly.

Adrian then snuggles onto your bosom as your back rests on the soft pillows against the bedframe. Your hand sinks under his hair, massaging his scalp in soothing, delicated movements as he relaxes to your touch, blushing at your praises.

That way, you two fall asleep for that night. And when sadness knocks on his door, you are willing to pamper him again, no matter in what way it is.

[dontcallmetreffy]

I might be reading too much into this, but the way Alucard presented his sword to the enemy vampires very much reminded me of what Trevor said regarding geometric shapes and how the cross causes confusion and panic. I’m choosing to believe Trevor offered this tidbit of knowledge to his dhampir travel companion (as historians will call them) to better help Alucard take down the remnant forces of evil.

[shattersstar]

bound

pairing: vampire x reader

summary: He supposed this was his true home, not the house he had kept himself locked in, but the wooden box with your picture in it. Dutifully kept under his pillow, bringing you to the land of dreams with him—if he could dream. It was a bitter punishment for the life he lived, the transgression—sin—he supposed would be held against the two of you. For how he wanted you more than anything, how he would tear whole cities to shreds at your behest and let the hunters who lurked in your town meet his fangs if you so desired. It was gluttony, to take eternal life and still want more.

warning: horror-ish elements, blood mention., religious undertones (aka general vampire themes/concepts)

a/n: i have so much to say about this lil piece of writing omg okay, i wrote this back in May i believe around the time i was reading we have always lived in the castle and it Shows. its lowkey fantasy which is not like anything i write but the horror-ish vibes r pretty consistent with my original stuff. it is heavily inspired by a lot of the vampire media ive consumed too though even if its not based on one particular character. i have been thinking about it since i wrote it and while im a bit ehhh about posting something original i quite literally have nothing else to share and as i said before y’all keeping i’d still eat the fruit in my notifs is so :)))) so this is a thank you to y’all and a Step back into writing for me hopefully. ramble aside enjoy ! feedback and comments r always appreciated

—

It had rained, no—poured, stormed, hailed, cried, screamed. It had swept in during the day, white noise to him as he slept, while it greeted you during breakfast. The clouds wept over the lands in what felt like divine punishment. It was as if nature or something higher than that was against him, accosting or trying to stop him. As he stood at the edge of the great forest, rain pelting the top of his head he assumed there was nothing greater than nature. Not even him. There was nothing higher nor more humbling. God could spite someone, but nature enacted it. It flooded your sleepy town and even sleepier forest and he was on the other side. Confined to his home until the storm cleared and the sun rose.

He would not be graced with your presence yet again and he tried to ignore the call to change you, to have his fangs pierce your skin and his blood run across your tongue. He gritted his teeth, reminding himself of the hurt it brought and he would never cause that for his love. His dearest who lived on the other side of the forest he was unable to cross. His icy glare moved along the border, not even noticing the rain drenching his billowing black cloak anymore. Somewhere in the forest a branch snapped and animals chattered.

He would live for eternity, he could wait for you. It was his resolution before heading back to his home in the woods and trying not to be angry, to let fury run through his long dead veins and restart his stilled heart. If anything—anyone—could, he knew it was you.

He followed the path compacted over the years of those travelling to stare at his home, humans daring each other to go near it, but never following through when the windows shuddered and a figure moved past one of them like a ghost. Times had changed, but people were as superstitious as ever. They saw his decayed and rotted home and prescribed evil to it. It was overrun with vines, leaves would not grow on them. Even in spring. They stayed black, and gnarled, tightening their hold in his house each season. Thorns protruding from some of the thicker vines, protecting him it seemed. You had noted that, staring at his wondrous home with bright eyes.

It was in a clearing in the forest, grey stone withered away and swallowed by nature. It still stood strong, the outside a grotesque picture that did not reflect the inside. Oil lamps and lighting fixtures alike lit the space from the inside out. It warmed the walls, revealing the deep brown wood panelling that made up the older parts of the house. The stairs were still the original wood, a grand staircase that greeted no one, but him and you these days.

Many of the rooms upstairs had been closed off, sheets gently placed over the old furniture and doors closed forever. He had no need for such space, other vampires stopped visiting when hunters started lingering in your town. You had told him of your many encounters, most were smart enough to stay out the forest, but they still killed many of his kind. Finding them in their carriages amongst the cars rolling down the freshly paved roads. Horses killed along with whoever dwelled inside. They saw themselves as vigilantes, but you had told him most of your town considered them a nuisance. Urban men thinking they can save the more rural lands that bordered their great cities. Cities that forgot the magic that once thrived in places like the forest.

“Their thinking of building a highway through it, connecting us to other towns or one of the bigger cities.” You had explained one day, sitting in his lap and letting him hold you. He hummed, long fingers curling into the fabric of your sweater. You placed your warm hand over his and leaned further into his chest. He asked you to let him hold you and you had obliged like always.

He kept those memories in mind, the soft questions he would extend your way and how you listened so dutifully. May I hold you? Will you lay with me? Come walk through the cellar? Can I drink your—

His fist slammed against his dinning room table, nearly snapping it in two as a crack ran jagged through the centre of the chestnut coloured wood. His fangs were out, nails morphed into claws dug into his skin and blood dripped into the crack. He stared at it, muscles in his face twitching as he waited for it to end. Waited for the creature in him to return to laying dormant and his own clear, sound mind to return. Though he supposed it was never very clear or sound anymore, not when you had burrowed inside of him and promised to never leave. And as if his thoughts beckoned you themselves, the old telephone in his study rang. It’s shrill scream echoed through the quiet house, though the ring was discordant, snapping in two halfway through its loop and screeching a pitch higher. The noise made his pointed ears twitch and with a swoop of his cloak he was in his study. He answered it on the normal ring, cutting it off right before it went off tone.

He held the phone to his ear, but waited to speak. “Hello?” You asked, your voice soft and worried. You’d never called him before—truthfully he had no idea this phone even worked.

“Hello my love.” He returned, and you breathed out a happy sigh.

“Oh my god, hi! I found this number in some old directory—phone book thing,” You explained with an airy giddiness that he wished to share, “I wasn’t sure if it was going to work, but…” You trailed off and he was smiling fondly into the receiver.

“I have missed you.”

“I miss you too, I hate this weather I can never get through the forest when its so rainy.”

“I know.”

“Maybe they should build a highway through it, I could hitchhike my way to see you.” You laughed, but he turned somber. Industrialization finally touching the sacred land of the forest didn’t sit right within him. It may be the great divider that kept him away from you, but it was his home. A highway felt like you were asking to be swept away, to a new town or bigger city that he could not adventure too. He could ask you to stay—he knew you’d oblige—but it was not his place to keep you here. “Is your phone one of those spin, dial ones?” You asked suddenly, breaking through the tension he hadn’t meant to create.

“A rotary phone?” He corrected with a ghost of a grin, “Yes it is.”

“I want to see it when I come over again.”

“And so you will.” It was quiet again and he hadn’t noticed the tears running down his face. He didn’t know he was able to cry anymore.

“I love you.” You whispered, holding your cellphone close, likely curled up in bed and staring out your window at the rain and the forest beyond it.

“I love you dearest.” His voice did not betray the sadness building in him. “Sleep beloved, I will see you soon.”

“Yes, I’m gonna come see you and your rotary phone.” You laughed, forced and watery.

“Soon.”

“Soon.” You repeated, and hung up. He kept the black phone, laced with intricate gold details, to his ear for a moment longer. He had heard your voice at least and could sleep. He moved through his home, snuffing out candles and flicking off switches before finding the one room without windows. A coffin laid on the floor, dark brown and glistening with the finish that had been applied centuries ago.

He supposed this was his true home, not the house he had kept himself locked in, but the wooden box with your picture in it. Dutifully kept under his pillow, bringing you to the land of dreams with him—if he could dream. It was a bitter punishment for the life he lived, the transgression—sin—he supposed would be held against the two of you. For how he wanted you more than anything, how he would tear whole cities to shreds at your behest and let the hunters who lurked in your town meet his fangs if you so desired.

It was gluttony, to take eternal life and still want more.

Though it was hard to think of such evil things when looking at your face, he had taken the photo while you were on the roof. Wind had wiped your clothes into a frenzy and you laughed as the night sky twinkled behind you. He had taken it and was surprised when you’d given it to him only a few days later. He had kept up with modern technology as well as he could, but there was always something so magical about photographs to him. He collected hundreds over his life time, faces he knew and others he didn’t. Organized neatly into a collection of books, which he’d let you look through on occasion. He showed you photos from the many lives he’s lived, something about them bringing warmth rushing to your face.

He was always so devastatingly beautiful, regal and hypnotic across all eras. Yet, he couldn’t focus on the kind words that bubbled from your lips as the rushing of the blood under your skin nearly shattered something inside of him. His fangs threatened to meet your skin, but with calculated focus he reigned in his hunger. It was hard at first—you were the only human he had been around in decades—but he did it for love.

Everything he did was for love, it was his reason for existence it seemed. You had other reasons for your claim to life, but to him? You were all he had, the only reason to not let the sun engulf him or let a hunter kill him. He could not break your heart until you broke his. He let that thought dwell in his mind as sleep overtook him just as the sun rose and the rain ended. Its incessant pitter patter had ceased and he somehow dreamt of you standing golden in the forest and beckoning him closer.

He woke up to your face—maybe it wasn’t a dream—as you crouched next to his coffin. Maybe he had finally died and you were welcoming him to where God decided to send him. If you were there it couldn’t be hell. Could it be?

“My love—“ Your hand pressed to his chest, keeping him still. “It’s still daytime, sleep okay?” You whispered, hand moving to his jaw and cradling his face in your palm for a moment. “I’ll be back in a sec okay, I just need to change.” He nodded against you, kissing your hand before you let him reside in darkness. He had caught a glimpse of your pants caked in mud and could smell the blood from your skinned palms. Despite the slick terrain it seemed you ventured through the forest to see him. It made his chest shudder and for a moment he thought you had actually restarted his heart.

It was only a few minutes later when you were carefully opening his coffin again, now dawning a loose fitting silk shirt that made his red eyes alight with something wild. You had cleaned your scrapes and mud off your skin, smelling faintly of rain water and the lavender soap you gifted him. You stepped over him, nestling against his side and letting him enclose the two of you. One of his arms wrapped around your shoulders as your head rested on his chest, knuckles grazing over your hair while you stretched an arm across his torso. Your legs intertwined with his long ones and you let out a breathy sigh.

“Are you hurt?” He asked, and while you likely couldn’t see as thing, he could see you perfectly. You shook your head no against his chest, yawning into the fabric of his shirt.

“I just wanted to see you.” You murmured, chin resting in his chest as you made hit best attempt at eye contact in the blackness. “I saw the dining room table, are you okay?” You asked, somehow staring through him in the darkness. He offered his hand instead of finding the words in his throat, slowly unravelling his fist to reveal a mark free palm. He wasn’t sure you understand what he meant or if your eyes adjusted enough yet, until you carefully closed it once again, kissing his knuckles and placed your hand over his. You both were silent for a moment, until you looked up at him again and breathed, “You’re all I want.”

“And you’re all I have.” He held you closer, watching a grin pull at the corner of your lips. He was sure it was that devotion, obsession even, with you that would bring about his downfall. Centuries old and all powerful, but reduced to nothing without you. His strength and knowledge meant nothing if he didn’t have you to share it with.

And you could not stand your stagnant life in a town full of people who wished his kind dead. You chose a trek through the forest during the twilight hours of the morning to see him, bringing him soft kisses and silk under his hands as you let your mouth meet his. You kissed him with all the exhaustion and lethargy wrapped up in the two of you, molasses slow kisses that were just as sweet. It was how you fell asleep, lips to his neck and head tucked under his chin before your warm breathed puffed across his pale skin. He fell asleep not long after, engulfing you in his embrace, his cloak draping over your frame as he decided home was where you asked him to be.

[honest-moth-of-silver-grove]

hc for adrian having a girlfriend or s/o prior to his mother's death. they're human and maybe her apprentince or something. and the church takes her too, but before they can burn her at the stake, dracula shows up and rescues her because he knows lisa was fond of her. during adrians and draculas fight maybe she interbenes at a critical moments so drac doesnt kill him and alucard gets away but she's now a prisoner of dracula w/n his castle. and maybe she befriends the generals?

A/N: Aw, man. Sometimes I wonder if Lisa did have an apprentice, that maybe Dracula wouldn’t be as anti-human as he ended up being, or if she could start to turn him to see the error of his ways sometime before Alucard and Dracula end up in Adrian’s childhood bedroom. 

Apologies for the delays in updates. But my brain went WILD with this request so it’s a long one, I hope that makes up for the less frequent posting. Anyway, I hope you enjoy these somewhat bittersweet (then depressing then bittersweet again) headcanons! (Also this is unbeta-ed and prob grammatically messy as hell, so read at your own expense lol.) 

Word Count: 6.2k 

TW: Canon Typical Descriptions of Graphic Violence; Brief Mentions of Sexual Violence; Canon Death; Descriptions of Torture (the church is high-key fucked up here)  

Adrian W/ A Human S/O Reader (Who’s Also Lisa’s Apprentice, Prior to Her Death):   

━━━━━ ❂ ━━━━━   

The Beginning:   

Okay, so let’s get one thing straight… FIRST OF ALL, Lisa would adore you!!! Like, you make her baby boy happy and you’re smart??? What else is there to it? And then to top it all off, you’re super sweet and kind and interested in learning about medicine and the world around you!   

Lisa meets you once over dinner and she’s already planning the wedding in her head.   

Adrian is smitten, because of course he is, but in an adorable, somewhat restrained way. He doesn't have a lot (ahem, ANY) experience in this department, so he’s hesitant to take things forward with you, mainly because he doesn’t want to scare you off or make you suspicious about what he is. (It’s hard to make out with someone when you have two big vampire fangs in the front.)   

Adrian is young, like you. So, on top of all the complications, he feels no need to rush things. Sure, he’s heard a few whispers here and there about Dracula having a son, a son who according to rumors and gossiping villagers is to rise as the antithesis of Dracula. It’s all silly superstition, but it does stay fixed in the back of his mind. What would this future legacy mean for his relationship with you? And, should it ever come to pass, would you even be a part of it?   

That’s neither here nor there though, and in the meantime, the two of you simply enjoy the talking phase. You get to learn more about each other's interests, and beliefs, but mostly, you spend time in proximity to one another— you remain busy attending to his mother, learning all you can about healing while he, just a table over, spends his time rereading one of his many favorite tomes.   

I honestly don’t see you meeting Dracula until you and Adrian are like a fully committed couple. I’m pretty sure you would have to have been Lisa’s apprentice for a while and/or lived with the Tepes in their Lupu cottage for months before Lisa finally breaks through Dracula’s protests and makes him officially meet you.   

I don’t think that meeting would happen in Lupu either. No, I imagine it would have to take place at Dracula’s castle, just in case you were to freak out, you’d have no way of escaping and telling any others.   

I can almost see your reaction being similar to Lisa’s upon first entering the castle, especially if Adrian is already at your side. Don’t get me wrong, I’m sure Dracula is terrifying, but there’s also a giant telescope in the next room calling your name so….   

Much to Adrian’s relief, this newfound information doesn’t make you frightened of him at all, if anything, it simply reignites your fascination with him. You throw rapid-fire questions at him: If he's part vampire, how come you’ve seen him eating human food? Does he need both food and blood to satisfy each of his halves? If he needs blood, he could take some of yours you know…   

Your penchant for learning softens Dracula a little. For a brief time, he wonders if, perhaps, it was as Lisa said, that the humans could change, that humanity was changing for the better.   

He sits across from you at their grand dinner table, watching you intensely as you and Adrian talk about the recent literature you’ve read. You’d no doubt feel Dracula’s all-powerful gaze on you, making you turn to him and… Wait, did you just smile?!   

You’ve got guts, Dracula will give you that.   

Knowing the family secret, you can’t exactly break up with Adrian, nor do you have any desire to. I wonder if Dracula would have rings made for the two of you, maybe commission a new family portrait or two.   

You stay with Lisa in Lupu during Dracula's travels. Adrian is around, although he's always off between the castle and their cottage, so you never feel entirely alone or vulnerable. Your life is perfect! It’s better than you could have ever imagined!   

That is, until…   

━━━━━ ● ━━━━━   

The During:   

When the Church comes to take Lisa, you beg them to see reason. You cry and scream, hell, you even try to fight your way out at one point, only for both you and Dr. Tepes to be overpowered by the Church’s henchman.   

The two of you are taken, violently, to Targoviste, where you’re thrown into dark, damp cells with little to no light. Freezing, you huddle together for warmth, each trying your best to reassure the other, that all will turn out well. Adrian was still around, right? He’ll have to come home to find you missing, he’ll come and rescue you. And Dracula was due to return soon, correct? Surely, they’ll come. Surely, they’ll stop this madness.   

It’s a few days later, after hours of interrogation and brutal torture that you realize with a heavy heart, that no one is coming to rescue you. And what’s worse, that these so-called men of the cloth cannot and will not listen to reason. You’re starved and beaten, your hair is sliced off so close to your skin, that they take bits of your scalp with it in some places. And despite initially being imprisoned with Lisa, you find yourself being separated from her for longer periods.   

The men try everything to get you to turn on her. They tell you if you recant her wicked ways now, say she used her evil magic to trick you, your sentencing will be easier. You could still live— they dangle betrayal in front of you as a last lifeline. You don’t take it of course. You love Mrs. Tepes, and you know she’s no witch. You muster what little might you have left, spitting at the men as you tell them to go to hell. You swear she’s innocent, that she knows nothing. Hell, at one point, you find yourself confessing to having manipulated her! You don’t think they buy it though, if the poor doctor’s screams from down the hall are anything to go by.   

The night they light the pyre, the night of Lisa’s murder, you’re sick on more than one occasion. You scream your throat raw, begging them to burn you first! That she was innocent! That you corrupted her! That it was all your doing! But to no avail.   

In a scene that could only rival the Crucifixion of Christ himself, you look up through tear-soaked eyes to see Lisa, enshrouded in flames, begging Dracula to show mercy on her killers, to forgive them, that they know not what they do. “I know it's not your fault,” she cries out, “But, if you can hear me, they don't know what they're doing! Be better than them. Please!”   

You sob and wail, watching as your would-be mother-in-law is burned alive. You scream out for someone, anyone! To please help you, save you! With Lisa’s last words echoing in your mind, you can’t help but fear Adrian’s and his Father’s reactions, should they find you both killed.

Oh, gods…   

You don’t know what makes you feel sicker… The barbaric display you’re witnessing now or the hypothetical one that threatens to wipe out all living people in Wallachia once Dracula learns of what’s happened. You need not wait long for an answer.   

In a fury of fire and grandeur, Dracula’s head appears, molded in flame, demanding to know what has happened to his wife. You cry out to him, apologizing profusely, saying you begged them to burn you first! You scream out how they refused to see reason, they killed her for helping! Injudiciously, in your indignant anger, you plead with Dracula to release his fury on the priests who did this, to send them to hell to be tortured for eternity for this unforgivable transgression!   

With the silent fury of a gathering storm, Dracula’s fiery visage speaks calmly as his anger grows concertedly less. "I give you one year Wallachians,” he finally decides. “You have one year to make your peace and remove any marks you have made upon the land. One year, and I'll wipe all human life from the land of Wallachia. You took that which I love, so I will take from you everything you have and everything you have ever been. One year."   

No sooner than he spits out the words, a coil of fire bursts from his image, winding itself around your body. The guards surrounding you gasp and flee, avoiding the coil’s tail as it whips back and forth, hoisting you into the air.   

The fiery coil burns your skin, and the smell of even more burnt flesh makes you gag. If you had any bile left over at all, you’re certain it’d come up yet again. The pain is like a thousand stinging nettles and boiling water constricting your arms and midriff all at once. Your vision grows blurry as you feel your body move through the air, your nostrils taking in one last wretched breath of sulfur and smoke.   

━━━━━ ◉ ━━━━━   

The After — Part One:   

When you awake you find yourself laid, practically bare, a heap on the floor within Dracula’s castle— the evil Lord himself only feet away, raging over his magic well— as shards of his magic mirror whip around him at incredible speeds. Your head is pounding, it feels as if it might explode, and your arms… Fuck.   

Where the supernatural coil grabbed you, your skin was red and raw, small pockets of blisters already beginning to form. Your arms tremble uncontrollably as you try to move them, the pain that’s consuming your nerves is far too intense to hold them steady as you sit up into an upright position.   

It doesn’t feel real; nothing feels real. It feels like a nightmare. It had all been perfect, everything was perfect— you all were happy! How did it turn into such horror so fast?   

Shakily, you rise to your feet and clutch the remains of your clothes to your chest in an attempt to preserve your modesty, although it’s more of a subconscious act on your part. Everything feels like it’s moving in slow motion, yourself included. It’s like the air is heavier here somehow, its weight filling your lungs and weighing you down.   

A loud noise shocks you back to the present, nearly making you stumble over in fright. At least you would have, had Adrian not used his superspeed to catch you before you fell. One of his gloved hands grasps your left arm directly over the burn, causing you to let out a hiss. His rectangular eyes look wider than you’ve ever seen as he releases his grip, looking over your battered form.   

“(Y/N) ...” Adrian says, his voice serious and quiet, barely a whisper.   

You shake your head furiously, unable to trust your ability to speak without breaking. Upon Adrian’s gentle insistence, you feel your mouth opening, and the words slipping out, scraping against the back of your reddened throat as they exit your frail body.   

“They killed her, Adrian…” you whisper, your voice quivering. “I, we tried to stop them, they just wouldn’t listen!” Somehow, your eyes begin to water again, despite your earlier certainty that your body had no water nor tears left in it at all.   

“Once she realized they wouldn't listen to reason, she lied and told them I was innocent. She told them she had manipulated me, that I was just a child, that I didn’t know what I was doing, that she never got the chance to teach me!” A feeling of guilt consumes you as you speak the words aloud, and soon enough, your body is once again plagued by uncontrollable sobs.   

Adrian listens intently to your words, his brows furrowed. You watch through teary eyes as a range of emotions flash across his face: anger, hurt, pain, sorrow, and finally… acceptance. Your beloved hardens his gaze, choking down whatever grief he may be feeling. At the present, Adrian knows, there are more pressing matters at hand.   

You follow Adrian’s steely gaze back, seeing his Father where he is bent over his summoning circle, cursing in a language that is foreign to you before he switches back to Romanian.   

“One year! It will take me one year to summon an army from the guts of Hell itself!” Dracula proclaims, promising to enact vengeance for the death of his love.   

“No.” Adrian counters, slipping out of your grasp.   

“Adrian,” you whisper, warningly. “Don’t—”   

“What do you mean, ‘no’? That woman was the only reason on Earth for me to tolerate human life!”  Dracula retaliates, enraged his son could even conceive of such lenience.   

“Then find the one who did the deed,” Alucard proposes. “If you set loose an army of the night on Wallachia, you cannot undo it, and many thousands of people just as innocent as her will suffer and die.”   

“There are no innocents! Not anymore! Any one of them could have stood up and said, ‘No, we won't behave like animals anymore.’"   

“(Y/N) did.” Adrian points out. “She tried to take all the blame, in an attempt to save Mother’s life.”   

Dracula looks over at you with blood-red eyes, contempt clear on his face. “And yet,” he snarls, “Here she stands, and my Wife, your Mother does not!” He hisses the last word, livid that out of the two of you, you were the one who survived.   

With large, fearful eyes, you watch as Adrian closes the gap between him and his Father.   

“I won't let you do it. I grieve with you, but I won't let you commit genocide.”   

“Adrian,” you warn again.   

The next bit happened all so quickly.   

Faster than you could blink, you watch, helpless, frozen in horror as Adrian charges his father, his longsword drawn. Despite their vampiric speed being unrecognizable to the untrained human eye, you swear you watch the scene unfold in slow motion. Adrian charges first, but Dracula, roaring in a fit of rage, counters faster— his Father’s elongated claws slash diagonally across Adrian’s chest, before his fist pauses, still embedded deep within your lover’s gut.   

You don’t have time to think before you act. To you, Adrian has the abilities of a god, but to his Father… It was clear there’d be no match. You have no clue how you got your hands on it, no idea as to how you even managed a successful hit, but the next thing you know, a triangular shard of magic mirror is impaled in Great Lord Dracula’s back, put there by your very hand.   

Too terrified to even breathe, the only sound you can hear beyond your racing pulse is a wet, gory squelch as Dracula retracts his claws from Adrian’s body. You hear the spray of blood before you see it, a rush of bright red blood gushes onto the marble floor between Dracula and his son.   

Standing at his impressive full height, Dracula turns ever so slowly, ever so menacingly, to face you. His pupils are that of a blood moon, his sclera so bloodshot they practically look as black as night. In that second, you know you’ve fucked up.   

You cower as Dracula raises one hand to you, instinctively shielding your neck from his nasty bloodied talons. With surprisingly repressed strength, Dracula backhands you, the force sending you flying backward, smashing into the base of one of the curved bookshelves lining the walls of his summoning room.   

With his focus still on you, Dracula stalks toward you. Knowing it’s now or never, you scream at Adrian to flee. “Run!” The words rip out of your raw throat, sounding like an eleventh commandment.   

You see Adrian, previously stunned by his Father’s disregard for his life, holding together the gaping wound across his chest. He has no time to even spare you, his beloved, a last look before evaporating into clouds, his cloud of bloodied mist bolting for the door, fleeing as fast as his injured state would allow him.   

Dracula only turns to watch as his son, his very possibly fatally wounded son, flees the confines of his castle. For a moment it is silent— only the sound of both yours and Dracula’s heaving breaths echo across the chamber.   

Clenching his clawed fingers into a fist, Dracula says nothing as he too makes his way to the castle doors, leaving your bruised and broken body alone in the dark.   

━━━━━ ❍ ━━━━━   

The After — Part Two:   

Somehow, Christ only knows, you find your way to one of Lisa’s old labs and do a half-assed job of patching yourself up. You find your burns and dislocated shoulder to be the most painful of injuries.    

Thankfully, Lisa had taught you enough about setting a patient’s shoulder that you managed to smash it into an adjacent wall, popping your joint back in yourself. The burns you wrap in honey and milk-soaked linen gauze, wincing every time the bandages brush against your skin. It’s awful work, slow work too, but you must have managed it alright because you find yourself patched up and passed out in one of the castle’s kitchens a few hours (or days? had it been days?) after that.   

You eat raw vegetables and berries— nothing that requires cooking. Lord knows you couldn't prepare anything successfully now even if you were to try. Eating your foraged meal in silence you debate your next steps. Do you go back home? Would your family even welcome you home after your long and unexplained absence? And if they, along with all the humans in Wallachia were ultimately to be driven from the land, did it matter anyway?   

‘Oh god,’ you think. You have to warn them, have to make them flee before a year is up. But where would you go? Where could you go? Greater Styria was a possibility, although it was not by any means an easy journey, and the climate there was much colder than your folks were used to here. You shakily rise to your feet and set out to find a map within one of the Castle’s many libraries.   

After a good night’s rest, you find your mindset with a newfound determination: you will go home. You were going to get your family on the move and then… Then, you’d come back here.   

You knew, in all likelihood, that returning to Dracula’s castle after the fact entailed certain death. But you also knew, things would get worse if he were to be left alone.   

Dracula may not have ever loved you for a daughter-in-law. Hell, he may not have ever loved anyone aside from Mrs. Tepes, but you promised her while huddling together that first night in those dingy cells that no matter what happened, should either of you get out alive, you would not leave Adrian and Vlad. “They need humans, (Y/N),” Lisa coughed into your ear. “And most importantly, humanity needs them.”   

Dracula would resent your company, he would want to be rid of you. But you could not be rid of him, not after what Lisa had asked of you.   

‘Besides,’ you thought, ‘Nobody should have to grieve alone.’   

The journey back home to your parents is majorly uneventful. Sure, it was touch and go for a while, your body was exhausted after the ordeal you endured, and your wounds had gotten infected once or twice. Thankfully, you had the mind to pack with you any potential treatments you might need.   

It felt good to be home, to be amongst family again. You couldn’t stop crying and hugging everyone when you first arrived. You kept the details to a minimum but made it clear they needed to be the hell out of Wallachia before a year. You told them you had found an apprenticeship, that the woman was kind to you, but while in Targoviste, you saw the burning of a witch, and soon after the face of Satan himself appeared in flames, threatening the crowd. It caused a panic, you see, and you had gotten trampled in the process.   

You didn’t bother to explain that the woman you were learning under was this so-called witch and that this Satanic figure was her husband. Nor did you tell them of your half-inhuman partner. You knew had you told the family the whole truth, they might have cast you out as a devil worshiper and a liar and choose not to heed your words.   

Your warnings spread through your extended family like how ivy creeps up a stone wall. A fair part of your relatives in the country believed you enough to agree to uproot their lives and settle outside of Wallachia: some settled on Syria, others had decided on Greece, Egypt, or Rome. The more skeptical ones who hemmed and hawed over the validity of your claims agreed to move into the countryside, a decent distance from any major Wallachian city or village.   

When you were certain they’d heed your words, you told them you could not stay with them, your Mother wept for three straight days and your Father could do little to console her. As much as it broke your family’s heart, you knew that your need to return to Castlevania was larger than yours. You weren't just doing it for your family, you were doing it for every family across the land. You couldn't be selfish. Mrs. Tepes was the most selfless woman you had met, and she taught you well. If you meant what you said to her when you first met, that you wanted to help people, you would need to buck up and accept the consequences of that.   

Your journey back to the castle was much more melancholy than your journey home. You could almost feel the whispers of the tortured souls Dracula had slain before blowing cold air into your ears, begging you to turn back. Nevertheless, you continued. You entered Castlevania to find you were alone, however, that would not be the case for long.   

Months later you had fallen into somewhat of a predictable routine within the castle and its new occupants. Dracula had recruited two humans to serve as his war planners— men by the names of Hector and Isaac, respectively. You appreciate the levity Hector, and his undead pets bring, and you admire the intelligence and loyalty Isaac has. You just wish they weren’t going along with Dracula’s plan.   

You tread carefully as you find the time to express to each of his Generals that you wish they wouldn’t go through with this plan. You explain humans are not the kind of species to give in to subjugation, they will revolt eventually. You suggest the vampires come up with some sort of tit-for-tat system with the humans instead like, for example, promised blood servants would equal vampiric protection for that territory.  

It’s safe to say no one is impressed with your centrist ideals, so eventually stop taking part in the conversation. You silently hang around Hector, and just listen with a sorrowful expression, satisfied with knowing that if you can’t change the Generals' minds, you can, at the very least, make them somewhat uncomfortable.  

When Carmilla arrives, you’re immediately put off by her little display of insolence. Unlike yours, her dissent doesn’t seem to come from a place of concern. You make a mental note to keep an eye on her.  

It’s during the General's next argument that you receive a ray of hope: “We are quite certain that Alucard sleeps at Gresit.”  

You feel your body grow lighter.  

“So, that means,” you speak aloud to yourself more so to anyone else, “Adrian is alive?”  

You’re met with a handful of annoyed glares from the other vampires as Isaac continues: “And that there was recently a Belmont there.”  

Upon hearing Carmilla berate the others for not sending night creatures to the ancestral Belmont home, your smile falls and your improved mood falters. These Belmonts were famous monster hunters, famous enough to frighten your current vampire company. That means, if there was a Belmont in Gresit, at the same time as Adrian, as Alucard, whatever the hell he’s going by these days, it could prove disastrous for your love. For all you know, he’s still recovering from the wounds dealt to him by his Father. And if this Belmont, this monster hunter strikes first and asks questions later, he may accidentally kill the only living vampire in existence who stands against the very nature of this war.  

‘How ironic,’ you think solemnly. Just as fast as the universe gives you hope, it rips it away once more.  

You excuse yourself, and make your way towards Hector’s forge, aiming to distract your distraught mind with some cute reanimated pets.  

Shortly thereafter, Hector joins you. He asks if you truly did not know Dracula’s son was still alive. You shake your head ‘no’, telling him how you had prayed every past night to any God who would listen, that they would send their holy armies and angels to guard him, but no, you had mostly just feared he was dead.  

You spend the rest of the night talking to Hector about Alucard, Adrian as you knew him. How smart he was, how much the two of you used to laugh, and how much he looked just like his Mother.  

“Perhaps that’s why,” Hector supposes, “Dracula could no longer bear to see him.”  

You say perchance he’s right, conveniently leaving out the part where the Father and Son duo almost fought to the death right in front of you.  

The conversation with Hector reignites something within you. You feel as if you had been praying all this time for an answer, and this was it. Alucard was alive, and so was Belmont. You understand now what needs to be done.  

Your lover must once again fight his Father, and this time, he must win.  

Your silent observations allow you to learn of Carmilla’s scheme fairly early on, as well as Godbrand’s demise at the hands of Isaac, yet all that time, you say nothing. You keep your mouth shut and your eyes down. If Carmilla divides Dracula’s army and court, she will inevitably make it easier for Alucard and Belmont to destroy him.  

The Generals, and even Dracula himself, believe you are mourning the loss of your love for the second time, as his demise will be inevitable the moment he meets his Father and his armies— or at least, that’s what they assume.  

When Carmilla has Hector send special night creatures to the remains of the Belmont home, you attach a letter around one of the creature's necks, hoping your love will notice it, and if he doesn’t, you pray he instinctively outwits the traps that await for him within his Father’s castle.  

━━━━━ ❂ ━━━━━   

Beginning Again:   

The night Dracula chooses to move the Castle to Braila, you manage to speak with him one last time.  

You bring him some tea, even though you know he won’t drink it, and you tell him, for what must be the hundredth time, how sorry you are about all that’s happened. You apologize for not being able to do more to save his wife. You tell him that if you could do it all over again if you were given a choice between who they should burn first, you’d demand it be you.  

Dracula turns away from the fire to look at you upon hearing those words.  

“She was fond of you, you know.” He says, sounding far away as if lost in a distant memory. “She was overjoyed at the thought of gaining a daughter”  

You nodded along a hurt smile on your face. “It was my honor.” Gathering your courage you continued: “Even though it didn’t work out, I want you to know I loved your wife very much… And,” you kept going. “I love your son very much.”  

Dracula said nothing. He simply turned his attention back to the flames within his study’s fireplace.  

“It’s not too late, you know,” you prod gently. “If Adrian is alive, he could still come back, we could still be a family-”  

“No!” Dracula’s low growl sent shivers down your spine.  

For a moment you feared he would rise to attack you or perhaps berate you further, but no such action came. Instead, the former Great Lord Dracula’s shoulders deflated back to their hunched position, as he fell silent once again.  

Quietly, you made your way back to your room, shutting and locking the door behind you. If you had any tears left at all, you would have shed them throughout the night. Instead, you merely lay awake, staring at the ceiling, wondering if there would even be a tomorrow to awaken to.  

Pleased to still be alive at this point, but feeling increasingly suffocated by this overwhelming sense of doom, you spend the next day cooped up in your room, on your knees, the rosary in your hand, whispering prayers of safety for your loved one. You couldn't explain it, but at the time, you felt compelled to recite prayer after prayer and reveal all the fears and worries in your heart.  

You speak out to Death, to God, to all the angels and saints, and beg them to grant Adrian safe passage as he completes his task of saving humanity— it’s something his Mother would have wanted after all.  

Amidst your fervent prayers, you feel the Castle shake and creak, but you soon realize something is off: it keeps jerking from side to side, several times, way too many to be a case of a single relocation. Your heart races, and in the pit of your gut, you know this is it:

The Alucard has come.  

Your love has come back for you.  

You scramble behind the door, poised with a wooden stake in hand (just in case, you never know), and wait.  

And wait.  

And wait.  

Following a crescendo of metallic crashes and screaming, you hear more crashes, this time lesser in intensity and they’re accompanied by the distinct scent of fire, sulfur, and burnt flesh.  

It terrifies you, bringing such horrible memories of your almost demise to the surface. You look down at the burn scars on your arms and feel physically ill. Every time you shut your eyes to blink, you see the corpse of Ms. Tepes, burning alive right before you as if no time has passed at all, as if you’re trapped in the permanent hell of that memory.  

The overwhelming ornery atmosphere in the castle only grows, seeming to suddenly flood your nostrils and every pore.  

You watch in shock and horror as thousands of soot-colored transparent ghouls burst through your doorway, the shock of the impact sending you reeling into the bed. Tortured faces of all shapes and sizes circle you menacingly, before bursting through your room’s glass window, vanishing just as fast as they came.  

Within an instant you feel… lighter, freer almost. It’s as if something major has changed, but you don’t know what.  

Timidly, stake still in hand, you make your way down the castle corridors. Unfortunately, you have to take several detours, your regular route being cut off by giant holes in the architecture. A good portion of the castle looks like it had been hit with cannon fire.  

You sincerely hope that whatever caused that damage is no longer rampaging around these halls, lest you stumble upon them yourself.  

By the time you reach the throne room, the sun is just peeking out from behind the horizon. The sight of it flowing freely into the castle interior lifts your spirits with hope. Sunlight means no vampires. No vampires means…

You follow the originating path of the sun’s beams, finding three figures illustrated against the sunrise. One of them is a burly-looking man, with a large frame and broad shoulders. Another is a woman, at least, you’re fairly certain they’re a woman, with curly hair, dressed in flowing blue robes. And the third is….  

You don’t even need a second glance to know who the third person is.  

Crying out his name, you run towards your long-lost lover, almost losing your footing over all the debris covering the floor. But just as he would before, and just as he always would, your lover, Adrian, catches you before you can fall.  

The two of you cling to each other for dear life, just silently sobbing, feeling grateful to be in one another’s embrace. You’re not sure how long the two of you stay intertwined like that, you just know however long it was, it could never be enough to make up for how much you missed him this past year.  

“Adrian,” you clutch his coat, “I thought you were dead! I thought he had killed you! I was so worried.”  

“He almost did,” the strange broad-shoulder man reveals in a teasing fashion. You watch as the robed woman elbows him in the gut.  

“Alucard,” Adrian says, regaining your attention as he grasps your hands in his. “I am Alucard now.”  

You look into his golden eyes, sensing while this is still very much the body of the man you loved, this Alucard before you, is not the same person that your Adrian was. After all this time, it feels like quite the loss, and yet, you cannot fault him for it. You are unaware of the journey he’s been on, of the sacrifices he’s had to make. God knows your character must have changed as well, living amongst a vampire court and necromancers for just under a year.  

You back away from your love, temporarily ignoring his concerned expression.  

“Hello Alucard,” you say, extending a hand, “My name is (Y/N). And I’d very much like to share a drink with you if you’d let me.”  

“Don’ know about Alucard,” the broad man mumbles, gripping his side in pain, “But I’d very much like a drink. Or five.”  

“Trevor!” The robed woman scolds.  

“What?”  

You smile at the three of them, feeling beyond blessed that your love has found such wonderful new friends.  

When you had first fallen for Adrian, you assumed your family would consist solely of him, his mother, and his father, that you’d spend the rest of your days learning medicine in a little cottage nestled in Lupu. That simple life was to be yours. But now, it’s all changed. And Alucard is all that remains of that family you once loved.  

You gaze out into the forest beyond the castle grounds, closing your eyes and sighing as you feel the morning’s sun on your face.  

Yes, it was true Mrs. and Mr. Tepes were gone.

It was true that the old Adrian could never come back.

But if you had to choose a new life, a life here amongst a gorgeous castle, with your former lover and his two new friends, well… you doubted you could pick a better one than that.  

A/N 2.0: WHY DID THIS TAKE ME SO LOOOONG? Who knows? Anyway, it’s here now. And hey— did you pay close attention to the symbols in the dividers? Go ahead and look back if you didn’t, just a silly little fun symbolism storytelling. Oh, also, I will finally be updating The Queue List to reflect all the asks I’ve since answered and posted to not confuse people checking on the status of their ask/new readers.

If you liked reading this, please REBLOG! Likes are great but reblogs spread my work much further. 

If you really, really liked reading this, Consider Buying Me a Coffee <3. 

[thewritetofreespeech]

Could I request Alucard/Adrian with a s/o who's a polymath (she's a writer, an inventor, a spokeswoman, a scientist, etc.)?

"I don't know how you stand being with them." Alucard turned to look at Trevor. Confused by his unwarranted incredulous thought. "How can you stand being with someone so...perfect?"

The dhampir shrugged. "They aren't perfect."

"Damn near." Trevor countered. "I mean, I get it. Sypha is way smarter than me. But to have them be better at everything than you? That just sounds rough."

"There are bowls of fruit that are smarter than you Belmont." Alucard retorted. "And, they aren't better at everything."

"Name one thing."

"Dinner is ready!"

As if on cue, [Y/N] came into the room with a big smile and a big pot. Trevor saw Alucard straighten his shoulders. Steeling himself, in a way, and he couldn't understand why. Then, when the pot of what he assumed was .....soup?...was sat down in front of him, he could understand why. "Good gods...."

"Thank you darling. Could you get us some napkins please?"

"Sure!" [Y/N] beamed at Alucard before flittering off to get some. After dishing out the 'soup' of course.

"What the hell's even is this? Is that a fish head?!"

"They said something about making a roast earlier." Trevor's head whipped around as they watched the half-vampire poke at some manner of vegetable with a stoic look. Particularly stoic given that it looked like it could bite back. "I guess it went awry."

"I can't eat this. I don't think I could survive it."

"Hmmm.... it's a possibility. I've had a few close calls. Your human constitution may not make it."

"How did this even happen?? I mean...they can nearly do alchemy and handle your science magic. They make medicine! How can they fuck up a soup??"

"Ours is not to question why."

Trevor rubbed his face. Partly out of frustration. Partly to hide the look of it and smell. "You're not really going to eat this are you? I mean...you guys are messing with me, right."

"I can assure you they are not."

"And you're really going to eat this? Like, seriously?" Alucard picked up his spoon and seemed intent to do just that. "Why??"

"Because they try."

Trevor was surprised by the comment. Then he felt like a real heel. Someone had gone through all the work of making him food and he was complaining about it. How quickly he forgot about those days of hunger outside their company. They tried. He should at least try what they made in return.

Picking up his spoon as well, Trevor looked at the bowl and said a little prayer to all the saints he could remember. "It helps if you don't look directly at it." Alucard commented. Before they both tucked in and hoped (prayed) for the best.

[omenics]

Hello! I think your Carmilla writing was really nice and was wondering if you could do a request for Alucard, where the reader was also there to help beat his father but stayed behind with him for support etc., a soft romantic relationship would be lovely.

Thank you and don't feel pressured to write this.

𝐒𝐎𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐔𝐃𝐄.

› ..tender moments with your beloved. — sorry this took so long! but here it is. written with fem reader in mind, but written as gn. lmk if i missed anything/used gendered terms for reader!

“It’s late.”

“Vampires don’t need to sleep.” His voice was quiet. Soft. The fire roared beside him, but your night clothes were thin, and even with the flames you shivered.

“You are not a full vampire,” you stated. “You can enjoy the simple luxuries that sleep offers. Come to bed.”

Your final words came close to a plea, a beg, to which he sighed at. He could not refuse such a simple offer, especially not from you as you stood in the doorway, arms crossed as you watched him carefully. He would not hurt you, you knew this, but you watched him. You watched his slight movements and twitches, watched his chest rise and fall with shallow breaths. God, he was perfect. Even in the tranquil time of twelve o’clock with dishevelled hair and tired eyes, he was perfect.

He was silent for a while, wood crackling to fill the void.

“Okay,” he said, and he stood. The book in his pale hands shut, and his gaze lingered on the fireplace before he turned to you. His frame was illuminated in an orange light, twinkled with gold that pronounced his blond hair, and his features.

A smile played at your lips, corners twitching up as you moved towards him, taking his pale hands in yours. They were cold, or colder than most. But they were still steady, and you held them with a familiar touch. Your thumbs swiped across the back of his hands, caressing the pale skin as your eyes darted up to his. “Good.” You said, smiling. “Come, the bed had gotten cold. I will need someone to warm me,” you joked, and he let out a breath. A soft smile, different to your coy grin made its way to his face before he shook his head at you.

“Ah, I see.” Adrian mused. “You only wish for me to be a bedwarmer. How hurt am I.” You chuckled at his words, laugh quiet. Your shoulders shook slightly, and your grin grew.

“Precisely. Now come, my love. Join me.” And he did, leaving the hearth of the fire and into a cold, cold bed waiting minute by minute to be warmed by two lovesick idiots.

[smallestapplin]

I will die on the hill that Dracula and Alucard can purr.

They don’t do it very often, and majority have never heard such things come from either of them.

It’s something they only do when they are truly safe, happy, content, and pleased.

And often do it subconsciously without even realizing it.

Dracula has a very deep low purr, it rumbles loudly and often if you’re on his chest cuddling him, you will shake to the frequency of his purrs.

He sounds more like a content dragon.

-

-

Alucard’s purr isn’t as deep, and it’s nearly mute, it’s incredibly soft sounding but it rumbles his chest, and he won’t notice he’s doing it unless you point it out.

He rejects his monstrous side, so if you mention it please ease his worries and tell him how much you love it.

He only purrs when it’s just you two, not wanting others to see him so vulnerable.

But he more purrs in the morning when he wakes up to you.

what the two vampires do have in common is how they will lean towards you, chasing your affection with their purrs for your ears only.

Greedy for your touch, greedy for your love they wish to drown in it all, and can’t help but give their own affection in return.

To cuddle you, to hold you, to kiss you with their purrs only growing in volume.

[dragongirlpoet]

The Sleeping Soldier

(Alucard inspired one shot — Alucard x reader)

❤️ Adrian reads you a love letter ❤️

Hello love,

In the decrepit chasm of despair, often I found myself wholly unable to see the light. Any prospect of joy — laughter, has evaded me. To the darkness I had pledged my soul subservient.

It had been days or months…perhaps a century? I’m not sure. Although you must pardon me, my…grief…has rendered my memory quite unreliable.

Yet somehow, somehow, amid my sombre solitude, you — a divine dream, as if descended from the heavens itself, showed up at my door. You had offered me daffodils when I was a lone willow in a wuthering storm. “I’ll tend to your dying garden. I’ll mend the castle. I’ll tame the anarchy in your heart”, you had uttered, words soft as a soothing kiss.

And it was in that promise that I alas, witnessed the brilliance of stars that hung in the beauty of night. Immortality is now an incandescent, glowing ray of hope — burning bridges of my past burdens that were tethered to me like a rope. You are the lifeblood of light to my destitute of doom.

You…have I said too much? You really must forgive my incessant rambling. I…it was a long time ago since I’d felt this happy. Just one more. I promise. You are the sun in which my world rotates — the very essence of light to my withered being. My beloved, I had not known true love till now. I love you.

#ilovehimsomuch

More Alucard stories -> Dark Signs