Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Trevor Belmont, Sypha Belnades, and Adrian Tepes stand around inside a now dilapidated house in Gresit the morning after meeting the Alucard below the city. They discuss plans to search the Belmont hold below Trevor’s family home when Trevor sighs. 

“I know another person who can help us defeat Dracula.” Says, Trevor with a confident, shit-eating grin.

Sypha and Alucard perk up at Trevor’s words and look at him in curiosity.

“Who is it, Trevor?” Asks Sypha.

Trevor shifts slightly and leans against the wall, “I don’t want to put her in this situation, but she’s the only other person I can think of.”

At the moment, you had just finished your lunch and begun cleaning the dishes, humming a bit to yourself. You lived in a small, wooden, cottage in the countryside half day from Gresit, not afraid of the monsters that linger nearby. You lived humbly, which was very different from how you were raised as a child. You enjoyed your life as it was right now, despite the looming threat of night creatures and human genocide. You were trained to fight monsters from a young age, so the idea of fighting didn’t scare you much.

You trained, ate, studied, and lived alone for the most part. Part of you loathed living alone. Once you turned fifteen, your brother left you to roam and do his own thing, four years ago now that you think about it. Your older brother did try to visit occasionally, but his visits were always very short-lived. He was usually wasted, but you didn’t care. Human interaction was human interaction after all.

Speaking of your brother, you heard a loud knock at the door. 

‘knock-n-knock-n-knock’

 Five knocks in a specific rhythm, which made you smile. 

Your brother came to visit! Human interaction? Hooray!

“Coming!” 

You dry your hands off since you were washing your dishes in a small metal basin and walk to the door. 

“Trevor! It’s about time you-” You speak as you open the door and are surprised to see your brother accompanied by two other people. A speaker woman and a… You feel the hairs on your neck stand up. You can’t mistake this feeling you’ve felt many times before. You’ve come across many vampires in your life but didn’t expect to see one at your door or your brother to bring one to you. There had to be an explanation right? This man didn’t seem to have purplish skin like most vampires… He was quite handsome. Maybe he was a half-vampire? But you had never seen one of those before.

Trevor begins to walk inside, giving you practically no explanation, “You two, this is my little half-sister, Y/N Belmont.”

The two strangers walk inside your home and the tall blonde shut the door behind him. 

‘He was able to come inside on his own… He has to be a dhampir.’ You think to yourself. 

The speaker woman gasps and moves to shake your hand, “Little sister? I had no idea! I thought Trevor was the last of his family?”

You smile awkwardly, “I’ve kept to myself for most of my life. Trevor just seems to get into trouble wherever he goes.”

The woman seems to chuckle at your words and Trevor rolls his eyes.

“I’m Sypha Belnades. You seem a bit more pleasant to converse with than your dancing bear of a brother.”

While you giggle at her comment, Trevor grumbles from behind you. It sounds like he’s rummaging around for a snack or something in the pantry.

The tall blonde walks up to you and nods at you with a stoic expression, not making any motions to touch you, “Hello, little Belmont. My name is Adrian Tepes, also known as Alucard. I am the son of Vlad Dracula Tepes.”

He said it so casually, his long introduction was something you had to wrap your head around. Is this man the son of Dracula? You can’t help but look at him in shock as the wheels turn in your head. You knew that the whole reason for Dracula’s genocide of humans was because of the death of his human wife. So Alucard is their son? Why is he with Trevor? Why did Trevor bring him here?!

You have all these thoughts swirling in your head when you hear Trevor approach you with loud footsteps. 

You turn to look at your brother with questioning eyes he knew all too well, “I’m going to need a bit of an explanation, Trevor.”

Trevor gives you a half smile and pats your back, “We need your help in killing Dracula.”

You feel your eye twitch a bit at this statement, “Trevor… Did you get punched too hard or…”

Trevor places his other hand on your other shoulder, looking into your eyes with a serious and uncharacteristic sober gaze. Just by this look alone you know he is telling you the complete truth. 

“Y/N, I’m serious about this. I think we might have a chance. If we don’t do this, then who will?”

Your eyes are wide at his statement. You never thought you would ever hear your older brother speak like this again. He used to pretend to be the hero all the time when you were children, but that was until both of your worlds seemed to crumble, that dream fading away. If anyone else asked you to throw your life away, you would have easily said no. However, seeing your older brother filled with determination seemed to shove your usual rational thoughts to the side.

You feel your eyes water a bit and you smile, “You’re right. It might be a death wish, but I’ll help you. Siblings need to stick together right?”

You sniffle a bit, but get a whiff of your unwashed brother, and suddenly the touching brother-and-sister moment is ruined. 

“Trevor… When was the last time you had a bath?”

After this mission is explained to you, you get ready in your bedroom, changing out of your normal attire and into an outfit fit for a proper Belmont. You put on a tan tunic and a brown leather vest over your top with ties in the front. You opted to wear your comfortable tan pants for this mission. You much preferred fighting with pants rather than a skirt. What if you caught on fire? That would be dreadful. You put on your boots and tie your leather bracers on your arms. 

You gather a couple more things into a bag, holster your mithril sword, and whip on your hip. It felt strange dressing like this again after so long, but a part of you missed it in a way.

You come out of your room and soon enough, the four of you are off, riding in a covered wagon led by Trevor to return to your family home. You were conflicted about seeing that place again. You did have some good memories there, but it wasn’t the peachy childhood that other children had in those social classes.

You sit in the back of the covered wagon with Alucard since Trevor and Sypha took the seats at the front of the wagon. You sit near the back of the wagon, looking out onto the horizon, the sun still in the sky. You hadn’t been on a journey like this in quite a long time and it felt great. Sure, you didn’t enjoy the act of fighting monsters in itself, but the act of helping people by defeating said monsters was fulfilling.

You feel a pair of eyes staring at you from behind, turning to look at the dhampir, “If you stare at me like that, you might burn a hole into me.”

Alucard’s eyes widen a bit at your words and he looks away from you, scratching his neck, “Ah, sorry.”

You look at him for a second and turn your body away from the back of the wagon and towards Alucard. Your Belmont ancestors would curse you for befriending a “creature of the night,” but you didn’t care. You couldn’t help but feel drawn to Alucard a bit. Was it his broodiness? His personality? His dangerous nature? Or his handsome looks? How about all of the above?

“Play a game with me.” You suddenly say, which then causes Alucard to raise a curious eyebrow at your request.

“Oh come on. We’re stuck back here together, might as well have some fun, right?” 

Alucard gives you a slight smile and gives a curt nod, “Very well. Ladies first?”

You grin at him mischievously, “Oh? Do we have a gentleman here?”

You think for a moment as to what your first question is and an idea finally comes into mind, “What is… Your favorite food? Blood doesn’t count.” You tease him a bit and this causes him to smile more.

“Starting with the deep questions, aren't we?” Alucard chuckles a bit, “I would say any chicken recipe. Especially with some vegetables on the side.”

You tilt your head, “Fair, your turn now.”

Alucard seems to think to himself for a second before he looks at you, “Trevor said that you were his half-sister when introducing you…”

You look at him in surprise due to the personal nature of his first question and then sigh, looking at the wooden floor of the wagon, “We have different mothers, but it's more complicated than just that…”

Alucard looks like he feels slightly guilty for asking you this question straight out of the gate, “I was just curious. If it is a sensitive topic, then we can move on.”

You sigh, still looking at the floor, "I am... half elf and half human, Alucard… And don't ask me how my father bed an elf. I don’t really want to know how…" 

You look up at Alucard and give him a half smile, seeing a look of shock on his sharp features. 

You let out a soft laugh and continued to speak, “That's all I'm telling you now… I can’t go giving you my entire backstory now, can I?”

His shocked look turns into a small smile. He was relieved he didn’t offend his new friend with his questions, but now he had many more to ask, “I suppose you’re right, Y/N.”

A couple of hours pass and you begin to recognize the landscape around you more and more as the sun begins to descend from its place in the sky. 

It was pretty quiet, apart from the sound of hooves clopping down the pathway and your quiet conversation with Alucard until your brother spoke.

“There. That's my tree. I used to play in that tree. We're nearly at the house.”

You can’t help but laugh quietly at his words, “You used to make me play in that tree with you all the time.”

Alucard looks at you with a small smile on his face, while Trevor continues to reminisce on his long-lost childhood.

Soon enough, you arrive at the ruins of your childhood home. You jump out of the wagon and land on the ground hidden by the overgrowth of grass. You hear Sypha asking Trevor questions, but you seem to dissociate a bit. You hear the three members of your party chuckle, but you don’t quite catch what they’re saying. 

It was easy to see that the ruins seemed to have a strong effect on Trevor. It reminded him of a time when his entire family was alive and strong, and it was a simpler time. However, when it came to your thoughts on the Belmont family, your family. You couldn’t help but remember the pain you felt for the majority of your childhood.

You didn’t realize that you were zoning out until you felt a hand on your shoulder. You fully expected to turn around and see Trevor, but your eyes were met with a special pair of intense golden eyes. 

You looked a bit surprised at Alucard’s silent comforting gesture but gave him a small smile, “I'm fine, thanks.”

He simply nodded and retracted his hand. 

The two of you heard the shuffling around of rocks and turned to see Trevor moving some rocks around, “I think this is it.”

You and Alucard walk over to Trevor and you recognize the metal door on the ground as the door to the hold. You had only gone, more like snuck, into the hold once and that was to steal a couple of books and your sword for your research as a child. You vaguely remember one of your older cousins helping you sneak down there and smile to yourself. 

“Your hidden entrance looks like a hearthstone,” Says Alucard with a monotone voice, which causes Trevor to grumble and sigh.

“Just help me clear it.”

You move to start clearing the rocks, but suddenly Alucard gets to work, throwing the large rocks behind him like they were nothing. This causes you, Trevor, and Sypha to stand on the side and just watch. You can’t help but be impressed at his strength, the dhampir putting your older brother to shame. 

As the rubble flies past your face you can't help but think a few impure thoughts to yourself, 'I want him to throw me around like that.'

You quickly snap out of your horny trance when you realize rocks weren't being hurtled in nearly every direction. You feel a bit embarrassed thinking such things about your new friend and have a twinge of pink on your cheeks. You had hoped no one would notice and pry you for answers.

"Congratulations. You have just discovered a big piece of stone." Says Alucard in a soft monotone voice.

For a moment the other three members of your group try to open it and mumble amongst themselves when you decide to chime in, "It's a magic door."

Trevor turns to look at you with a tinge of surprise on his face, "How do you know? Father never let you down into the hold."

You smirk in defiance, "Cousin Jean snuck me down there and I saw it open. I was very young so I can't remember the exact incantation, unfortunately."

Due to your elven heritage, you were able to wield magic as well. You were a bit sad that you never officially learned how to open the door, but your cousin was nice enough to sneak you in once.

Trevor turns back to the door as Sypha continues to examine the door and the runes engraved into it.

“Well, I guess the special trick was passed down the generations like the way we Speakers transmit knowledge.”

She brushes the lettering again as she speaks, “Your parents knew the trick, but didn't know where it came from or what it really was.”

Sypha says to stand back, so you and the two men oblige as she chants and places her fingertips against the cool metal door. Blue light begins to ripple over the door and seemingly transforms into a bird, feathers dispersing into the air around the group as it disappears. 

"Open sesame." She says with a playful smile on her face.

You look on at Sypha in shock as she accomplishes her task of opening the door. You had only ever seen someone use magic, besides yourself, one other time and that was to open the door to the hold when you snuck inside.

You snap back into it at the realization that everyone else is now descending into the hold except for you. You've been incredibly distracted since you got here and it was starting to bother you. You had been away from this place for so long and it still affected you.

While walking down the stone steps and into the grand staircase of the Belmont hold, you were not stunned by its opulence like the other three. Yes, it was impressive, but you were sick of your family name following you around like some sort of phantom. You were so happy to put it all behind you when the Belmonts were excommunicated by the church. You were walking behind the rest of the group, walking a bit slower than them as well. You felt a pair of eyes on you and looked up to see Alucard staring at you with his rich, sunkissed eyes. 

You tune back into Trevor's ramblings about the lineage of the Belmont family and give Alucard a small smile of reassurance. 

You knew that he could tell something was wrong with you, which is something your older brother certainly did not pick up on. 

He returned your smile by giving a nod with a flat expression, turning back forward to walk ahead.

Finally, when your group reaches the hold door, Trevor opens it, revealing the vast knowledge that your ancestors had built upon for hundreds of years. 

It was quite an impressive collection, you had to admit. However, when conducting research on your elven heritage as a child, you hardly found anything in the collection. The collection is vast with books, tomes, skeletons, artifacts, and weapons, however, it did seem a bit much. Did they have to collect this much? One of your ancestors probably found some fossilized cyclops dung and stashed it away down here. You giggle silently to yourself, following your brother’s lead.

"The memory of our family.." Says Trevor as he walks down the stairs, "All that's left of us." 

His eyes have a sense of melancholy in them as he brushes a hardened hand along the staircase's railing. You place a hand on your brother’s shoulder from behind in an attempt to comfort him, giving him a small smile when he turns to look at you and he returns the sentiment. No matter how much you disliked your family title, you and Trevor were the remnants of a legendary, but also nearly dead, bloodline.

“Is it organized? Is there a way to find things?” Asks Sypha, an inquisitive look on her face and a glimmer in her eye as she looks at the two Belmonts.

Alucard speaks up, his cool and sarcastic tone filling the air, “I imagine one sacrifices a chicken, and divines the location of the book you want from the intestines. Maybe the Belmonts have a crystal ball in here you could ask.”

As Alucard walks past Trevor, he gives him a side-eye. You still stand behind your brother, trying not to laugh at Alucard’s cynical words, since it would probably make Trevor angrier that you were encouraging the dhampir. Alucard’s eye flickers over to you for a split second and he sees your amusement. You swore you could almost see a smile, but it was gone as quickly as it came.

“Shut up,” Trevor growls, annoyed with the dhampir’s antics.

Alucard continued to walk down the stone steps, continuing his verbal assault on the Belmont family. While his insults were technically geared toward both of you, you could sense he was mainly directing his words to Trevor. 

Trevor just held his tongue during the assault and sighed, pushing past Alucard, “There's an index on the lectern at the bottom.” 

When reaching the bottom, Trevor turned to his right, Sypha following closely behind, and Alucard to the left. Absent-mindedly, you follow behind Alucard, not caring if he wants the company or not. He turns his head to the left to glance behind him and notices you have chosen to follow him, a small smile forming on his thin lips. He looks forward again, a soft “hmph” coming from him as he continues walking.

You couldn’t help but stare at him as he walked in front of you. As cocky and as condescending as he was, he was beautiful. You internally cursed yourself for your attraction to him. The irony of a monster hunter falling for a half-vampire was just too crushing. The way he would silently check up on you when you were quieter than usual and how he kindly spoke to you on the wagon. You hypothesized he hid his concern and kindness with a wall of sarcasm and skepticism, your thoughts essentially being confirmed with every interaction with him. 

You couldn’t help but crush on the brooding prince of vampires. Was it because he caught your eye? Or was it because you could count the number of men you’ve talked to consistently in the past nine years on one hand? Only time will tell at this point. 

You continued to follow Alucard, noticing he seemed to be drawn to a large cabinet with skulls inside. As you approached the glass case with him, you took notice of how most of the objects on the shelves around us looked to be placed haphazardly. Whoever kept this place organized back in the day had some explaining to do. 

“What was your Leon Belmont doing in Wallachia?” Asks Sypha from a distance. 

Alucard stops and stares at the glass case and you stand beside him. You quickly realize that the skulls are vampire skulls and you can’t help but notice a slight tension building in Alucard.

“Hunting Dracula,” Alucard says softly, a blank look on his face.

You want to say something to him, but nothing you can think of could probably lighten the mood. 

I mean, what is there to say? ‘Sorry, my family killed a bunch of vampires, kept their skulls, and put them on display! Don't worry, we won’t do it to you though!’

You look around for a second, wanting to do something besides follow Alucard around like a lost puppy. You hear someone rummaging around and you follow the noise, seeing Trevor drag a chest from one of the aisles of bookshelves and sit it in the clearing of the hold. The chest is quite gaudy, a royal red color lined with gold metal, and a lion latch to boot. It’s quite the ugly box to keep something valuable in.

You snicker, stepping closer to your older brother, “Already making a mess huh?”

Trevor crouches on the ground and looks at you with a grin on his face, pulling out a small dagger to break the lock on the chest.

“Y/N! I think you’re gonna want to see this.”

You stand next to your brother as he attempts to break the lock and he succeeds, the chest pulses in a goldish-greenish light upon the feat. He slowly lifts the latch and then the lid, revealing the legendary weapon you two only learned about from stories as children. 

Trevor lets out a small breath in awe and takes the weapon in his hands, the chains of the Morning Star whip, clinking softly in the echoey room.

“Beautiful,” He says, while you raise an eyebrow in disappointment. 

After hearing about the whip as a child, you didn’t imagine it to be so… clunky

“What on Earth is that ugly thing?” Sypha prods, earning a giggle from you.

“I second Sypha.”

Trevor just seems to ignore the women and stands up, clenching the handle and chain of the whip in his hands, “ I don't believe they hid it. It's the Morning Star!”

You put your hands on your hips, playfully squinting at Trevor, “Well if you get a legendary weapon, where’s mine at?”

Trevor grins and begins wrapping up the chain of his new weapon, “You already have your weird forest magic and that weird elf sword, so as your older brother this belongs to me.”

You laugh softly and shake your head, “It’s all yours buddy.”

You were completely fine with him claiming ownership of the whip. It was a bit too awkward and flashy for your tastes but seemed to fit Trevor just fine. You turn and walk away from Trevor, seeing that Alucard is still staring at the case of vampire skulls. You pick up on the last bits of Sypha and Alucard’s conversation, eavesdropping if you will. You peek around the corner of a bookcase, not wanting to intrude, but also being very intrusive.

“You’re not even a little bit impressed?” Sypha implored, looking back at the moody blonde.

“It's like a museum dedicated to the extermination of my people, so no. Not thrilled.”

Alucard then turned to step away from the display case and you quickly turned down an aisle to look like you were actively investigating. 

You couldn’t blame him for his attitude. While he didn’t agree with the actions of his people, he still is half-vampire. You clear your head and now think about the next best course of action. 

‘We need to find everything possible to get an edge on Dracula… Can we even do it in time?’ You think to yourself.

After Alucard’s verbal disdain for the vampire skulls in the display cabinet, the four of you split up to investigate the massive Belmont family hold. You only vaguely remembered the first time you entered the hold, being only seven or eight when you snuck in. You only came to the hold to research more about elves, disappointed when there wasn’t much content at all. However, you did steal an elf-made sword from a shelf and had no regrets. You carried the mithril sword on your hilt and fought with it always. The lightness of the blade complimented your agility and fighting style. It just felt natural, unlike normal man-made weapons. 

You remember that you were here to find some ultimate weapon to stop Dracula, but you still had the urge to look for anything on elves. 

Upon having these thoughts, an old voice seemed to echo from the depths of your consciousness, “Your first thought is your training, Y/N. We’ll discuss elves when you’re older.”

Since you could read, your father forbade you to learn about the elves. Those words still made you angry, even nine years after Gabriel Belmont’s death.

While yes, you did love your father, there were certainly some unresolved issues that have gone untreated in your mind. 

You hear a faint bit of laughter from the other side of the hold and your slightly pointed ears seem to perk a bit at the realization. You slowly follow the sounds of your comrades talking, book in hand. You’ve lived on your own since you were fifteen so you were used to being alone, but part of you wanted to be a part of their banter and conversation. It was nice finally having a group of people to talk to and not just your brother when he was drunk and had nowhere else to go.

When you get closer, you can now clearly pick up on the conversation. 

“It was a magic mirror,” Says Sypha in an annoyed, matter-of-fact tone.

“Also known as distance mirrors,” Chimes in Alucard.

He steps closer to the mirror, gently stroking the stone runes on the side. You can’t help but think of an innuendo while watching this unfold but try to push the thought back to the recesses of your mind.

“Some of them even allow matter to pass through them, but…”

Alucard lets out a soft hum as he thinks, now seemingly disappointed, “No. No, this is a simple

remote viewing mirror.”

Alucard turned to look at Trevor, “A little of the activating language is chipped. A few of the runes need re-cutting, but workable.”

A small smirk appears on Alucard’s lips and a slight venom in his tone, “You have the most fascinating family junkyard, Belmont.”

You can almost see your brother getting wound up by this comment, sticking his finger in Alucard’s face, “You are a cockwart, Alucard.”

You can’t help but snicker at the petty altercation as Sypha drags Trevor away to scold him. Alucard looks at you and the smugness seems to disappear from his lips, a small twinkle in his eye.

“My family probably kept more than they should have. I did find the pinky toe of a goblin back in section four.”

Alucard lets out a soft chuckle at your words, “Even the little Belmont agrees with me.”

Chapter Text

Not too long after discovering the distance mirror, Sypha approached you, wanting to converse with you. You realized you hadn’t had a one-on-one conversation with her and welcomed the idea. 

She seemed very interested in knowing your abilities since you were half-elf after all. You were wondering if she overheard your conversation with Alucard on the wagon or if Trevor told her. You didn’t care much though, she had a right to know as your teammate.

“I’ve only heard very little about elves passed down from the other speakers. I thought they were just a myth!”

You laugh a bit at her curiosity, finding it charming, “I honestly don’t know much myself. My father was against me learning much about elves, but that didn’t stop me from digging around.”

You smile and begin to move your hands, both of them cupping together as if you were holding a bowl. Your hands move in a spherical motion and a small, bright, pulsating ball of light appears. You hold it out to her and she looks to be in awe of the display, the concentration of light reflecting in her ocean-blue eyes.

“I’ve never seen anything like this before, Y/N.” 

Sypha reaches out to touch it but hesitates, her eyes flitting up to yours, “Can I…?”

You nod, your eyes reassuring, “It won’t hurt you. Lumonancy is a magic mainly used by elves. In its basic form, it can only wound creatures weak to sunlight, so you’re fine”

Sypha then touches the ball of light, her fingers poking into the substanceless orb. 

A small gasp of surprise escaped her lips, “It feels warm and fuzzy… I can’t believe this!”

You hear heavy footsteps approaching and the both of you look ahead and see Trevor with a proud grin on his lips, “If you think that’s impressive, Sypha, then you should see what else my little sister can do.”

You blush a bit and your hands fall to your sides, the orb quickly disappearing. 

You look at Trevor in annoyance, feeling embarrassed by his verbal encouragement. You knew he only said it to poke fun at you. He just looks at you smugly with his hands placed firmly on his hips. You groan and roll your eyes, causing him to laugh and Sypha can’t help but snicker at your brotherly and sisterly bickering. You feel as if another pair of eyes are watching you closely. You turn your head in that direction but see no one there.

Shortly after Trevor came along, Trevor and Sypha walked off together and you stayed behind. You could tell your brother was taking a liking to her. It was easy to see since he had been so guarded for so long. He had to be, to protect you and himself. 

You sigh at the thought and walk in the opposite direction, trying to find anything on how to beat Dracula or anything that catches your attention. After walking down one of the dusty aisles, you find a small, skinny book that catches your eye and sits on a bookshelf. You slowly pull it out and open it up, to your amusement, you find quite a few funny little drawings in it. 

You giggle softly to yourself, flipping through a few pages. You found that the text was written in a language you didn’t understand, but the illustrations were caricatures of many different kinds of ghouls and other monsters.

“And what are you looking at, Little Belmont?”

You hear a familiar voice, curious, and teasing in nature. You turn around and your eyes meet with those of your new dhampir friend. 

You smile at Alucard and move closer to his side, showing him the pictures in the book, “I think this may be a book for children or something… See! That’s supposed to be a werewolf.”

You point a finger at the small illustration of a monster hunter with a whip, fighting a crudely-depicted, furry werewolf. Alucard chuckles at your discovery, most likely cooking up a new quip to use on you.

“Children's books in the Belmont Hold? Why am I not surprised?”

You essentially ignore him, flipping through a couple more pages, and you feel your eyes light up, “Ah hah!”

You point to another simple drawing. This character had purplish skin, red eyes, claws, and huge exaggerated fangs. 

You hold it up to Alucard with a mischievous grin, ”According to this book, this is what you’re supposed to look like.”

Alucard raises an eyebrow and takes the book from you. When looking at the pages, he tries not to show any amusement, but you see the corner of his lip quirked up into a smile. 

He finally lets out a small snicker, “Am I not terrifying enough for you?”

You grin and shake your head, closing the book, “You’re more friend-shaped,” You motion to him with your hands, making a body shape, as you say this to him.

Alucard looked like he tried not to laugh, but failed. Seeing Alucard give a soft laugh and a smile at your stupid joke warmed your heart. He only seemed to exude misery and sarcasm. It only took a glance to see how gloomy he was, and he had every right to be.

“You’re quite the character aren’t you, Little Belmont? Are you sure you’re related to Trevor?”

You chuckle at his words, amused by his nickname of choice, and set the book back on the shelf, “Well, we are half-siblings… His mother hated me and was a real piece of work.”

You grumbled that last bit and Alucard tilted his head in curiosity. 

You give him a half smile and shrug your shoulders, “It’s a long story. I wouldn’t want to bore the prince of vampires.”

Alucard gives you a smug smile and leans his back against the bookshelf, “A good prince doesn’t mind giving his subjects some of his time.”

You scoff and roll your eyes, you walk past him and motion for him to follow you. If your memory serves you well, there was a small table and chairs in this direction, and you were correct! You and Alucard come across a dusty, yet high-grade wooden table surrounded by a couple of scattered wooden chairs to match. When you approach the table, you see a forgotten stack of books, some open as if someone’s study session was cut short a long time ago.

You grab a chair that was toppled over on its side and set the old thing back on its legs. You cautiously sit down on the chair, Alucard doing the same.

“I bet these chairs are older than my grandfather was.”

Alucard chuckles lightly at your statement as the two of you settle your weight on the chairs, surprised to find out that they actually could hold your weight. You let out a breath in relief and look down at the table at the many books and half-finished notes left behind.

“You’re right regarding the notion that my ancestors are hoarders, but it is an impressive collection in a way. You can’t deny that.”

You elbow Alucard in his arm and he rolls his eyes, a small smile still on his lips, “I suppose it has some redeemable crumbs littered here and there...”

You feel a small smile on your lips as you lean back in your chair, “I wish I could just peek at your father’s collection. I remember hearing all about it from my father when I was younger.”

Ever since you were small, you hoped that maybe one day you could just peek at Dracula’s collection of knowledge. Surely he would have more information on the elves than the morsels the Belmont hold had, but that was a pipe dream of course. 

Alucard glanced at you and looked away, “I have no doubt he has some of the knowledge you seek, but I believe that all of his knowledge started the culmination of his insanity.”

He was probably right. A lone man with immortality surrounded by nearly infinite knowledge is bound to lose his mind at some point. The loss of one of the only people he cared for was just the trigger that set it off.

Alucard turns his head, looking at you with his enchanting golden eyes, “Do you think we’ll survive long enough for you to browse his collection?”

He asks this with a small smug smile, your heart fluttering a bit in your chest. God, he was even more beautiful up close. His long, wavy hair spilled down his shoulders like spun gold, his fair skin nearly flawless despite the scar on his chest. You liked the scar though as it seemed to only add character… And trauma of course.

“Speaking things into existence might help our chances right?”

You give him a small smile and he makes a small ‘hmph’ noise, “Is that an elven ideology? Along with tight leggings, singing, and talking to animals?”

You felt pink bloom across your cheeks at his remark.

‘This man is such a tease!’ You think to yourself, ‘Oh how I want to put that pretty face in his place.’

You cross your arms, trying to regain your composure in this battle of words, “I can’t say I’ve talked to animals, but have you tried garlic bread?”

Alucard tried to stifle his laughter with his hand but failed. He thoroughly enjoyed this back-and-forth banter with you, which is something he has not had in all of his years of living. He was taking a liking to you so fast that it almost alarmed him. He wanted to know more about you, having gotten his curious nature from his late mother. Never in all of his days did he think that he would ever become this close with a monster hunter, let alone a Belmont.

Little did he know, you felt the same way. It had been a long time since you last had a good laugh with another person. You couldn’t even remember the last time you were this easygoing around Trevor before he came to you earlier in the day. The only times you would get to see your older brother would be when he would stumble up to your home with his breath reeking of alcohol, needing somewhere to stay, and quickly leaving the next morning. It hurt you deeply. You were completely devoted to helping your older brother as he did with you when you were younger, but for years it seemed he wanted next to nothing to do with you. Was he ashamed?

Talking with Alucard in this way truly did make you happy, even if he was quite the prick. And he was a half-vampire and Dracula’s son to top it all off. Your father would have died twice if he knew what his children were up to. 

You let out a soft sigh, looking at Alucard with a smile, “Thank you for talking with me like this, Alucard.”

Alucard tilts his head as he looks at you, a pleasant look of surprise on his face, “Why are you thanking me?” 

You feel nervous at the thought of sharing your feelings with him, never really ever opening up to anyone before. It was almost embarrassing. 

You look down at your lap, unable to look him in the eye, “Well, I can’t say I have ever felt this comfortable around someone. It’s… Nice.”

Alucard could have easily quipped up some witty response to your honesty, but he didn’t. He could sense how genuine you were and he didn’t want to admit that it made his heart feel all warm and fluttery inside. 

The two of you were more alike than Alucard wanted to admit. Both of you were half-human, mixed with different supernatural beings, but still similar nonetheless. Did he feel just as out of place as you did? Unable to find a sense of belonging?

“It is nice, Y/N,” He manages to say, a slight pink hue rising to his cheeks.

Your head spun to look at Alucard in record speed, taken aback by Alucard’s uncharacteristically sweet response. And his now rosy cheeks?! God, he was so cute!

Now it was your turn to blush, feeling a heat rise to the surface of your cheeks, “I’m glad you feel that way.”

Why did you feel so shy around him? I mean you have had little social interaction over the past ten years, but this felt different somehow. In the quiet moment, you hear the echoes of Trevor and Sypha speaking somewhere else amongst the bookshelves. 

You clear your throat a bit, “So um… How was your childhood?”

You ask this question meaning for it to be an icebreaker, but then realize that the question might not have been the best. Did you seriously just ask the son of Dracula how his childhood was? You think back to all of the horrifying things your family had taught you about the King of Vampires. I mean, if he fell in love with a human he couldn’t have been that bad, right?

“Interesting question,” Alucard chuckles and your eyes dart away, feeling stupid for asking.

“My childhood was, surprisingly quite the happy one…" Alucard continues, "My mother was an amazing woman and my father... He had his faults, but he cared.”

You look down at his pale and slender hands as they rest in his lap, occupying themselves by gently thumbing the fabric of his black pants. 

What do you say to that? I mean, if his mother was the person who brought the good out of Dracula, then she probably was a great mother as well. If only the church wasn’t so stupid, only seeming to make mistake after mistake.

“What was yours like?” He asks in response.

You hum for a moment, thinking to yourself after Alucard asked you the same question, “Well, my father and stepmother pretended out in public that I wasn’t half-elf and that I was Trevor’s full sibling.”

Alucard raises an eyebrow at your explanation, seeming like he was curious to learn more so you continued.

“My stepmother hated me for being the product of my father’s affair and treated me poorly. Regarding my father, I think he loved me, but I’m not sure…”

Alucard’s gaze was precise as he watched you continue to speak.

“I’ve always felt that he kept me around because of my elf heritage. Like he wanted to mold me into either a monster killing machine or into some shiny pawn to sell off to some rich man.”

Alucard was quiet for a moment, not entirely expecting the summary you gave him of your life before the Belmont’s reputation collapsed. If Y/N and Trevor’s father were still around today, what would their life be like? What would happen to Y/N if the Belmonts hadn’t been excommunicated? The idea of you being married to some old, rich pervert was disgusting to him and you being a killing machine would have been such a waste. He quickly came to the recognition that it seemed as if he had the most steady childhood out of the four on their team. He was curious as to whether Trevor had known about your sorrows as a child. Was he a good big brother to you? Surely he was in your corner, right? These thoughts came to mind for him. In his eyes, you deserved the best.

“Did your brother know about how your stepmother treated you?” Alucard asks, a look of serious concern on his face.

You were surprised at how much the dhampir was invested in your story. You thought he would simply blow you off like he seemed to do with Trevor, but he was different when it came to you. You wondered why and he honestly wondered himself.

“He did,“ You look down at your lap and sigh, slowly rubbing your hands together.

You feel an anxiousness brew in your stomach at the thought of your brother. He told his mother to stop, and she did, but only when Trevor was around. His plea didn’t stop the physical and emotional toll she inflicted upon you when he was gone, up until her death.

You feel a pressure on your knee and turn to Alucard, seeing his dark, gloved hand resting on your knee, “I’m sorry. I won’t press any more… Thank you for sharing.”

Why was he being so nice to you? Was he going to treat you like a little sister? The thought of Alucard sending you into the friend zone was almost haunting, you can’t even handle the thought.

“I… I’ve never met anyone like you, Alucard,” The words slipped out of your mouth unconsciously.

‘Shit!’

It was true, you weren’t lying. You felt such a connection with him. It was such a shame that your chance of surviving the fight with Dracula was most likely very small. 

You watch as his eyes golden eyes widen upon hearing your words, pink dusting his pale cheeks, “Oh… Erm… I could say the same about you, Y/N.”

Why were the two of you so incredibly awkward?

After taking a short break, everyone decided to get back to looking for any relevant clues to slow down or kill Dracula. After some time looking, you see Trevor sitting on the floor, surrounded by dusty old books while messing with a sword and sheath. With your sensitive hearing, you could hear Alucard and Sypha talking in the distance, only hearing bits and pieces of the conversation.

You walk towards Trevor, scooting a book over so you can sit next to him. You hadn’t talked to him very much this whole trip, Alucard managing to steal your attention and seemingly your heart as well. You could say the same about Trevor and Sypha, but you had no room to complain.

You sit down next to him, looking at him curiously, “I see you’re taking our mission very seriously.”

Trevor froze and then peered over his shoulder at you, giving you a side eye upon hearing your chiding. He quickly sheathed the sword and turned to look at you, setting the sword on the ground at his side.

“Listen, little girl. This is gonna need some magic bullshit type stuff and I am not your guy. Maybe you should look a bit more. Why don’t you go ask your woodland friends or something?”

You crossed your arms, feigning offense to your brother’s remark, “Okay I hear you, maybe go shove one of those weapons you found up your ass.” 

Trevor lets out a snort-like laugh at your remark and shakes his head.

“I am concerned you enjoy him too much,” You heard Alucard say to Sypha from the second floor, your ears twitching at the dhampir’s soft, yet concerned voice.

You look at Trevor, seeing him absent-mindedly fiddle with the pages of some old book. You were sure that he couldn’t hear and you were tempted to eavesdrop on the conversation going on above you. 

“And what is that supposed to mean?” You hear Sypha retort back

“He is unreliable, emotionally damaged, and apparently very distracting to you while you should be focused on the task at hand.”

He was certainly referring to Trevor and you were starting to feel a bit annoyed. You liked Alucard, but hearing him trash on your brother was starting to get on your nerves. Maybe Trevor deserved the teasing, but at some points, you were going to defend him.

“Oh. Am I not working hard enough? I could say the same thing about you with her you know.”

You felt as if your heart dropped at Sypha’s comeback, ‘What did she mean by that?’ 

“Don’t try to spin this on me. You know it’s different than that–”

Nope. You shake your head, trying to close off your hearing the best you could. It wasn’t your business and frankly, you didn’t want to hear anything you didn’t want to hear. Your attention refocused on Trevor, messing with the pages of a book and accidentally tearing out the corner of a page.

You feel a smile creep along the corner of your lips at his disregard for books and the like, your gaze shifting upward when he turns his body in your direction. His eyes were stern yet warm when he looked upon his sister’s face. 

“You really didn’t have to do this, Y/N. I honestly hoped you would have said no,” He looks away from you, scratching the back of his head awkwardly.

“Trevor,” You started, looking at him with slight annoyance, “Did you think I would let you do this without me?”

What kind of person would you be if your brother came to you for help to kill one of the strongest monsters in history and you said no? He surely would have come if you had been the one to ask him. At least you had hoped so.

Trevor chuckled a bit, looking back at you with a smile, “You’ve always helped me pick up my broken pieces, haven’t you?”

You feel your heart pang at his choice of words. You were startled, was he that self-aware of his treatment towards you? You had prepared yourself long ago that you and Trevor would have a rather parasitic relationship since he had the emotional intelligence of a walnut, or so you thought.

All you can do is stare at him, unable to find the words to speak when Sypha calls out to Trevor and yourself from one of the higher levels of the hold.

Trevor stands up, letting out a few grunts, and turns to Sypha, “What?”

“I have something,” She replies, a bright smile on her lips

“Uh, when I say "what," that doesn't mean I would like to ask even more questions."

Sypha’s smile quickly turns into a scowl, “Would you please– Oh, you are the most annoying, just stop.”

Trevor sighs and helps you up to your feet, “We’re coming up.”

As you follow Trevor up the stairs, you listen to Sypha explaining her findings, but soon find yourself distracted when you spot the back of a particular blonde dhampir peering over the balcony at Sypha from the floor above you. God, you were already feeling yourself going head over heels for this man and you had only met him today. Were you that deprived of social interaction to be smitten over a man you just met? Yes, yes you were.

“Right. So you can't attack it if it just jumps somewhere else,” Says Trevor from in front of you, snapping you out of your boy-crazy thoughts.

You mentally scold yourself for thinking of such childish things right now, especially when you were on a mission as important as this one.

“Yes. So some clever Belmont eventually formulated most of a locking spell. A method to catch the castle and lock it down to a single location so that it can be invaded.”

‘A spell to catch the castle?’

You had no idea how a spell like that existed, but to be fair, there was a lot you didn’t know about when it came to magic. You were only developed in the magic skills you were certain you could wield.

“Most of?”

Alucard asked in his velvety voice, looking at Sypha in curiosity.

“I can finish the final clauses of it myself. It's all based on Adamical structures,” Sypha replies, watching as you and Trevor approach her to listen to her findings.

“You keep saying that word,” Mumbles Alucard as he makes his way down the ladder, hearing the creaking sounds of wood from behind you. You’re not looking at him, but you can hear his slight irritation at the fact that he’s unknowledgeable on this particular topic.

“Adamic is the original human language. The one spoken by Adam and Eve in the Garden of Eden. The one that was split into all other languages at the Tower of Babel by God

to prevent human cooperation,” Educates Sypha, reminding you vaguely of something you were forced to learn as a child.

“Is that how you understand that story?”

Alucard’s voice is now behind you, feeling him walk closer to the three of you and stopping at your side. It took everything in you not to look at him and combust, you had to get these feelings under control fast. Or at least something to distract you.

“Oh, yes. The Speakers are the enemy of God. We live in cooperation and hide our stories inside ourselves so he cannot strike them down in jealousy.”

You could feel the confusion and intrigue in the air around you and the two men at her words, not necessarily understanding the rationalities of the Speaker’s religious nature.

Suddenly, a rumbling is heard and felt throughout the hold, the four of you looking up to the ceiling as dust seems to trickle down from the ceilings and settle itself on its new home. 

Another more powerful rumble surges throughout the hold, glassing clinking, and crashing down onto the ground.

Sypha turns back to the group with a stern expression, “See? God hates me.”

More rumbling, glass breaking and the sounds of chains can be heard as the depths of the hold are currently being ratted on from above. You suddenly hear the faint growls and roars from what you knew to be night creatures, the reality of this situation completely sinking in.

“That's probably not God,” Alucard mumbled a matter-of-fact tone in his voice.

Chapter Text

The hold seemed to rumble more and more as the four of you gathered on the first floor in an attempt to formulate a plan. Whatever visitors were upon you were certainly not going to let you prepare, so the time to act was now.

“Can we get that magic mirror working?” Asks Trevor, walking closer to Sypha as she looks through multiple books trying to figure out how she’s going to complete the locking spell.

You looked up to the ceiling, listening closely to the growing sounds of rumbling throughout the hold. You had already assumed that you would have to fight, hoping to show off a bit of your fighting style to your new love interest in the back of your mind. 

You pat yourself down, making sure your mithril blade hangs against your hip and your other smaller knife rests against your outer thigh. You also felt your whip resting on the back of your hip, hoping you wouldn’t have to use it as it reminded you of your father.

“I know some Chaldaic. I know how to operate a distance mirror. Which shall I do?”

Alucard looks to Trevor and takes a step forward, so you decide to step in, trying to separate the two. Why were they always puffing their chests up to one another? Was it really so hard for men to get along? Trevor certainly needed the push after living a shell of a life for so many years, but you didn’t want to stand by and let him get bullied. He would intervene for you.

You stand next to Trevor with a forced smile, “Trevor and I will defend the hold just fine, right Trevor?”

You elbow Trevor in the ribs as you speak, causing him to grunt a bit, “Uh, yeah, right, Y/N.”

The underground bunker continues to shake more violently, debris scattering across the floor as whatever creature beats on it from above.

Alucard turns to you, his expression softening as he meets your determined eyes, his heart-melting gaze encouraging you to speak, “You should focus on finding the castle and Sypha should work on the trapping spell. Trevor and I have your backs, I swear it.”

Alucard acknowledges you with a nod and turns away from you. As he turns away you notice him bite the index finger of his glove, pulling it off swiftly with his perfect teeth. You quickly turn away, unable to hide the burning in your cheeks. He had to have done that on purpose. What normal person does something like that? He had to know he was attractive… There was no way…

You feel a firm hand on your shoulder, knowing instantly it was your brother, Trevor.

“We do this together. Just like old times?”

You turn to look at him, annoyed by his smug smile, but return his smile nonetheless, “Yeah… Together.”

Trevor nods and lets you go, turning to Sypha and speaking to her as you quickly head up the rickety wooden stairs. He quickly follows suit, running up a separate flight of the ancient steps as the rumbling increases and causes more and more damage to the underground bunker. As you run you hear a clinking noise, looking over and spotting Trevor using his newly equipped whip to swing up onto one of the bridges. It looked as if he was showing off… Until a particular hit to the door of the hold caused him to topple off the side of the railing and quickly grab onto the wood to catch himself.

You couldn’t help but snicker, taking your time walking over to him as he hung to the rail like laundry on a wire. You lean over, holding your hand out to him to help pull him up.

“Need some help, show off?”

Trevor grumbles before taking your hand, pulling him up back onto the solid wood. The two of you run up the remaining steps until you arrive at the small wooden door of the hold.

You look at the door and take a deep breath, exhaling as you prepare yourself, “Trevor, you ready for–”

You look to your right, seeing Trevor digging around in the rubble of a bookshelf before running back to you with an old wooden plank. You can’t help but look at him in confusion as to what is going on in his dusty brain, but you humor him, watching him with a judgemental gaze. You take a few steps back, wanting to observe his brilliance at work as he presses the plank against the sturdy wooden door. The door was beautiful, with intricate metalwork in the shape of the Belmont crest adorning it, simply watching as its last male heir thoughtlessly pressed and rotated a shoddy plank against it. Meanwhile, the loud banging and crumbling of the sanctum had ceased, which probably meant whatever was trying to break in had ultimately succeeded. Yet here was your older brother, the pride of the Belmont clan.

It was quite funny, your father’s disappointment from beyond the grave was almost palpable. Trevor then knelt to the ground, propping up the abused plank against the door, and watched as it slowly slid off, hitting the ground with a thump. 

Trevor pauses before he looks at you, unable to contain your smug smile at his interesting idea. 

He simply sighs and shakes his head before standing up, and pushing open the door, “Don’t bring this up to anyone.”

The siblings jog into the grandiose staircase, ready to defend the last gaudy piece of their heritage left in this world. 

You follow Trevor up the staircase and he glances back at you, “How many do you sense up there?” 

Due to your heightened senses, it was easier to sense when enemies with hostile intent were around. Every living creature has some kind of aura, able to differentiate from those with higher levels of thinking to less, comparatively. Thus, you were able to sense peaceful entities and those with malicious intent.

“I sense five. One’s a pretty big guy,” You respond with a smirk, “You want him?”

Before Trevor could respond, one louder boom knocked the two of you off balance, causing the two of you to look up and watch the subsequent staircases collapse like splinters above you.

“Yep, he’s all yours,” You say, grabbing your whip from your hip and darting out of the monster’s trajectory.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” Your brother mutters under his breath as the large minotaur-like night creature descends upon the two Belmonts. 

When the creature lands, the wooden staircase bends and breaks under its weight, causing the two of you to lose footing. You and Trevor use your whips to catch yourselves, tying around debris still attached to the wall as the night creature finally lands on steady footing. As Trevor focused on the larger monster, you looked above, searching for any other beings attempting to slip past a larger distraction.

As your keen eyes analyze your surroundings while you swing from your whip, you spot a creature jumping down to another level of the staircase. It was somewhat humanoid in fashion with bandages fashioned around its eyes and head with a large spear. 

You use momentum to swing up to another level, feet planting on a piece of the staircase that had not been broken. You hold out your hand, forming a spear of light and hurling it at the creature, which narrowly misses and causes its head to snap in your direction.

“Shit.”

As Trevor and the minotaur descend to the lowest floor of the staircase, the blindfolded night creature lunges at you with its spear pointed in your direction. In quick response, you pull out your blade, the mithril metal gleaming in the light. You parry the blow and offer a few of your own. You’re faster than the monster anticipates, slicing into its arms and torso as it cries out in pain. 

There’s a loud thud that comes from below when Trevor defeats the giant minotaur, large pools of hot blood spewing across the floor. The bandaged creature flees from you and charges at Trevor from above.

You charge after it, jumping down and using your whip to wrap around its ankle and swinging it into the stone wall with all your might. You land in the large puddle of minotaur blood as the night creature slams into the wall with a loud crash, blood splattering all over your pants and boots. 

‘Dammit, I just bought these a few months ago.’

You glance at Trevor to make sure he’s okay and he does the same, the Belmonts share a nod in affirmation before refocusing on the fight. The duo look up and watch as multiple furry and winged night creatures climb down the deep dilapidated staircase. You’d gladly take these creatures over a horde of vampires any day, but this wasn’t any less frustrating.

The creature you slammed into the wall charges at the two of you from the side, swinging its crude staff at Trevor who parries the strike. As the two exchange blows, your gaze switches to the creatures from above when a low roar echoes through the bloodied chamber.

A small dragon-like creature makes an effort to descend upon you, its belly swelling in a bright orange inferno, “A firedrake. Are you fucking serious?” You mutter to yourself as you form a bright, golden long bow in your hands, stretching the stiff bowstring as a single sparkling arrow manifests in the arrow rest.

“This is gonna get messy!” You shout to Trevor as you release the arrow. 

Your aim is true, striking the firedrake in its belly as it shrieks in pain and swells up like the sun in preparation to explode. 

“Y/N!”

You glance at Trevor with wide eyes, his arms wrap around you to shield you from the blow as he nearly tackles you to the floor. The explosion surges down and envelops the two of you, the white-hot sting of heat makes your skin tingle as the force shoots you and Trevor backward. 

The Belmonts fly straight back into the hold, Trevor’s grip around your body iron-clad as the two of you land with a couple of grunts.

“You okay?!” You shout louder than you probably meant to, your ears still ringing from the explosion.

Before Trevor could answer, the bandaged night creature charged at the brother and sister. He quickly pushes you out of the way, ready to finish his fight with the ugly thing and you roll back onto your feet.

As Trevor is preoccupied with his own battle, a movement from the doorway catches your attention. A winged-crow-like night creature with a bird skull head flies toward you, its body is humanoid and adorned with feathers on its head, wings, and body.

You form a few daggers of light between your fingers and hurl them at the creature. The bird dodges all but one, lodging itself in the monster’s bicep. 

It shrieks in pain before ramming into you head-on, colliding into your torso. You instinctively wrap your arms around his neck to hold onto the creature as it breaks through the balcony railing and flies further into the hold. You feel your legs dangling, too scared to look down. Your arms squeeze tightly around the bird’s throat and it rams into another railing, allowing you to settle on another wooden balcony.

You quickly let go of its neck and roll away from the creature to create some distance. You didn’t know what exactly this mutant crow could do and you didn’t want to find out. You notice Trevor dealing with the other night creature, a large bat of sorts. Surely he could handle his own, so you focused on your own battle.

After throwing a few more light daggers, the crow blew them right back toward you with a massive gust of wind with its wings. You barely dodge, the blade of one scarcely kissing your shoulder. You come closer, exchanging a few blows and strikes, but none seem to land. With a quick thought, you jump back and decide to throw a few more light daggers, running low to the ground as the night creature blows them away with its wings. You use this chance to spear your sword into the bird’s head, killing it instantly.

Your relief is cut short, however, when you hear the roar of the other night creature paired with a loud thud. Trevor was fighting it… Did he need help?! You quickly pull your sword from the dead beast's head and follow the direction of the commotion. You watch as the large bat-like creature escapes from Trevor and runs off the side of an overhang and towards Sypha and Alucard. 

You feel your stomach nearly drop to your feet, panic settling in. You jump from the balcony railing, pushing off with as much force as you can. You create a short bow this time, an arrow manifests in the arrow rest and shoots the beast in the head. Simultaneously, you watch as the red hot bulb of Trevor’s Morningstar whip slams against its body, causing the monster to explode in a mixture of red and gold. The force of the explosion makes you lose control of your fall midair and you roll across the hard floor, slamming into a bookcase. A few books topple off the shelves, divebombing on top of you and flipping open across the stone floor.

It certainly wasn’t your most elegant moment, feeling yourself more embarrassed that Alucard probably saw that than anything. With a few grunts of discomfort, you stand up and put yourself together. You watch Sypha as she pulls the castle, bright blue streaks of light swirling through the air. In the distance mirror, the eclectic castle sputters in resistance until it finally changes location. The ground seems to rumble in response, nearly causing you to stumble again.

After the rumble seems to subside, you hear Sypha give a pleased, but exasperated sigh, “I did it!”

Alucard is frozen, staring at the mirror before slowly turning to his magical companion, “Where did you land the castle, Sypha?” 

Alucard asks this with a look of disbelief and a patronizing venom to his tone, to which, Sypha smiles and claps her hands together, “Right on top of us!”

You can’t help but feel a pang of nervousness in your stomach, the idea of fighting the real Dracula is finally coming to fruition in your mind. This was the goal of your ancestors before you, adrenaline surging throughout your body at the sight of his castle in the mirror.

After a moment of being lost in your thoughts, your doubt is shadowed by the man in front of you. 

Alucard steps toward you, his face seems analytical as his intense eyes roam over your form. You felt self-conscious, feeling as if you were about to receive a verbal barrage, but that never came.

“Y/N? Are you alright? You took a nasty fall.”

Oh! So he was inspecting you to check for any injuries, only causing your heart to thump harder in your chest.

You feel yourself nod like an idiot in response, “I’m doing great, actually. Never been better.”

You scold yourself in your head at your overly excited response. You’re about to fight Dracula, not pick flowers and sing songs with him.

Alucard gives you a small smile, a small hum coming from his throat, “Thank you, for all you did.”

It took everything to respond normally, “You too, but things are just beginning, aren’t they?”

He nods in affirmation and the three of you head back to the entrance of the hold, meeting back up with Trevor in the hall with the decimated staircase. 

“The staircase is a wreck,” Trevor says nonchalantly, the remains of the giant minotaur not too far away from him as he begins to walk around.

“We're not getting up there without ropes. Start looking,” He continues, leaning over to pick up his sword that had been lost earlier due to the fire drake blast. 

You look around for a second, an idea popping into your mind, before dismissing it. You contained a power called chlorokinesis, the ability to control plant life, and contemplated summoning vines down here to help… But that would rip up the foundation of the hold and could potentially crush the lot of you, so you didn’t bring it up.

“Damn,” Trevor says again after a moment, “This is gonna be hard.”

After Trevor’s obvious observation, Sypha motions with her hands, creating a circle of ice underneath the quartet, “We don’t need ropes.”

The ice pedestal slowly begins to rise and she gestures a few more times, “Here we go.”

The ice begins to elevate at a slightly faster and steady rate, while you try to remain as still as possible to not slip and embarrass yourself.

“Very impressive,” praising Sypha quietly, you give her a nod and allow her to concentrate. 

As the ride continues, the tension is palpable. When taking a glance at everyone’s faces, it’s easy to see just how high-stakes this mission is. This inevitable fight with Dracula is on the verge of its breaking point.

As the four finally reach the top, the blood moon illuminates over the land, casting its crimson hue upon you and your crew. After all of you have hopped off the ice pillar, Sypha uses her magic to pull it out of the ground and launches it some few meters away. The crash and crunch of ice sends a shiver down your spine and rumble beneath your feet.

When Sypha notices the group questions her action, causing her to shrug, “Well, I didn't want to leave it in there to melt and ruin all your beautiful books.”

Alucard chuffs, lifting his leg and looking at the sopping ground in disdain, “It seems damp enough out here as it is.”

While the group is more distracted, your eyes are fixated on Dracula’s castle. The gravity-defying towers only add to its mystery.

“Father had always wanted to see it for himself…” You whisper to yourself before you turn to look at Sypha, “You actually did it.”

Sypha looks at the castle in awe, her blue gaze fixed, “Yes, but… Seeing it is something else entirely.”

With a grin, the speaker turns to Trevor, “I’m pretty good, right?”

To which, Trevor responds, “You’re the best.”

Could Trevor at least drop the flirting until after the crazed vampire lord was defeated? Your gaze switches from the castle to Alucard, taking a few steps closer to him.

“How are you feeling?” you ask, his gaze fixed on the castle before them.

“Not great, but let's put an end to it anyway,” Alucard replies, looking at you with a determined golden gaze.

You nod in affirmation, the group following Alucard as he leads the way to the castle, stinking of death and destruction.

Chapter Text

When closer to the castle, signs of fighting could be heard within the legendary structure. The four of you hurry inside, the sounds of swords clashing turn into silence, and steel rings and echoes throughout the massive hall.

Vampires. Their eyes flicker to you and the others, instantly recognizing Alucard. When sensing their aura, you could feel their intense bloodlust, itching to hack and slash or sink their teeth into the four of you.

Trevor pulls out the Morningstar whip, getting into position, “I terrify them, Sypha disorients them, Y/N supports, and Alucard goes over the top and we support him.”

“Roger,” You affirm, mithril blade in hand, your fingers twitching.

“Yes,” Sypha replies with her hands up and ready.

Alucard then raises his sword horizontally, the floating blade unsheathes itself as it swishes into position, pointing at the horde of vampires while hovering by the side of his head.

As cool as he looked, you had to concentrate.

“Begin,” He says coldly, signaling the time to rush in.

The vampires quit fighting amongst themselves, finally united over a common enemy, and speed toward you. Trevor springs ahead, flinging the bulb of his whip into a vampire, exploding it, and displacing many vampires in turn. You create daggers out of light between your fingers, tossing them at downed vampires with extreme precision. You count four, hitting them in the heart or the head, causing them to burst into a small puff of gray and gold dust.

After, you summon a bow, manifesting arrows in the quiver. You shoot at multiple enemies, some striking true while others are deflected by swords or talons. Before you could delve deeper into the castle, Sypha summons a firewall, curling around in front of your group and separating you from the vampires ahead. Quickly, Alucard dashes ahead, jumping through the flames and sprouting out the other side. To your surprise, he takes the form of a white wolf, barreling forward and clamping his teeth on the forearm of an armored vampire. You had no idea he could transform, your eyes widening when he flung the vampire into a nearby pillar. 

You knew that vampires could turn into wolves, but dhampirs too? You learn something new every day. Your father would probably scold you for not knowing if he was here.

While Alucard pushes up front, the Belmonts and Sypha support him from behind. Trevor readies his whip, Sypha creates multiple ice spikes, and you keep your bow of light out. Instead of using one arrow this time, you summon three at a time. Sypha soon dispels the firewall, allowing the trio to attack freely. Sypha sends her icicles hurtling toward the vampires, some striking their targets while other vampires evade and make a break for the speaker. 

Trevor and you share a look, opting to defend the magic specialist in the party, deciding to dismiss your bow of light. One vampire approaches you from the left, dressed in a mustard and red tunic with flowing pants to match. He wields two broadswords, so you compensate by drawing your mithril blade and creating a matching sword of light in the other.

He swings first and you counter, blades colliding and metal ringing. He’s quick, swinging both swords at you with several single swings. You use both blades at first to block the succession of swings, with a sleight of hand, your light sword turns into a spear. You dig it into his stomach, causing the vampire to freeze, and then groan in pain as you twist the blade up. He coughs up dark blood onto the front of your tunic and vest and explodes into dust. You grimace at the vampire blood covering your front, but ignore it for now. 

A boom sounds as Trevor finishes another vampire, but you tear your attention back to another vampire charging at you. She flashes her claws at you, swiping at you a few times with a growl. As much as you hated killing sentient beings, it was either you or her. That blood-lusting look in her eye wasn’t helping her case much either. Using your mithril sword, you block her attacks, the force of her strength nearly knocking you off your feet. 

Gritting your teeth, you dig your heel into the stone flooring, bending your knees and jumping into the air with a twist. With a quick slash of your elven blade, the vampire is beheaded. When landing, you stab her in the chest for good measure and flick off the blood from your sword.

You quickly turn at the sound of groaning, seeing Alucard against the wall cornered by three other vampires. Sypha quickly freezes the vampiress that had turned into smoke while you quickly sheath your blade and create a long bow of light in your fingertips. You quickly take your stance, shooting an arrow that blinds the other two vampires temporarily. Trevor is quickly launched by Sypha towards the male vampire by a pillar of ice. Trevor’s whip wraps around the enemy’s ankles before slamming him down while Alucard beheaded the female vampire. When the male vampire is down, Sypha wastes no time, her deadly palm firmly grasps his head and sends the creature into a deathly inferno.

Just as your team recuperated when the last vampire was finished, it was time to head deeper into the castle before it was too late. You, Trevor, and Sypha follow Alucard as he quickly leads the way through the castle. Alucard was sure his father was in his study and the others had no reason to disagree with him. You couldn’t help but peek at your surroundings, distracted from your mission since you and Trevor were the first Belmonts in Castle Dracula. 

When reaching the study, Alucard motions for the group to hang back while he first speaks with his father. The Belmonts and Sypha lean against the wall as Alucard steps into the doorway and two paces into the room. The three of you eavesdrop on the conversation.

“Father,” Alucard says with strain, hurt, and disdain in his voice.

“Son,” Dracula says coldly, his blood-red eyes steely.

Dracula’s aura was like nothing you had ever experienced before. You weren’t even looking at him and you felt as if you were going to fall to your knees. The intention of killing the entire human race stunk and permeated throughout the castle, but it overwhelmed your senses here

“Your war is over.”

“Because you say so?” Dracula replies, a lick of sarcasm in his tone.

Alucard doesn’t miss a beat, his voice is soft yet strong, “It ends… In the name of my mother.”

“It endures in the name of your mother,” Dracula retorted, tone growing increasingly angry.

“I told you before, I won't let you do it,” He continues, his voice soft when speaking to his father, “I grieve with you… But I won't let you commit genocide.”

There was a slight pause before Dracula spoke again, “You couldn't stop me before.”

“I was alone before,” Alucard speaks, his voice stern.

You, Trevor, and Sypha came out of the shadows, standing by Alucard’s side firmly. You had finally laid eyes on Dracula, the man feared throughout Belmont history. He was tall, his stern, handsome features and long dark hair only added to his allure, making him all the more dangerous.

Sypha lifts her hand and Trevor grips his whip and sword, ready to strike if needed. You do the same by holding your blade at the ready, feeling doubt gnawing at your stomach. Alucard raises his sword beside his head, gripping it tightly with two gloved hands before he rushes at his father. His speed is nearly faster than you could blink, seeing Dracula cornered into the wall with a loud thud and rumble. With the force, multiple books and paintings tumble down from walls and bookcases, clattering down onto the floor.

You, Trevor, and Sypha enter the room further, closing in around Dracula, but giving Alucard space as he visibly struggles to keep his father at bay. Dracula simply held the tip of his son’s blade with his fingertips, walking forward as if Alucard’s strength meant nothing. The Belmonts and Sypha hang back, taking steps backward as Dracula withstands the attack. When Alucard manages to get his sword free, he slashes quickly, but his attempts are futile. Dracula dodges in a wink, only pausing to catch Alucard by his wrist and beating him across the face with the back of his hand. You watch with wide eyes as the blonde’s head crashes into the burning coals of the fireplace, the metal grate bending at the force of his fall. You couldn’t help but see the pain in his expression, anger surging through your body. 

You’re the first to charge at Dracula, light on your feet as you strike multiple times with your mithril sword. You thought it would help that the metal was lightweight and give Alucard time to recover, but no dice. He repels your attacks and sends you stumbling backward while Trevor darts forward to support. Dracula’s gaze flickers to Trevor in an instant, his heels digging into the ground before launching himself at your shocked brother. You watch as they barrel through the door and into the hall in a blur. 

You and Sypha follow with Alucard behind you. The speaker sprays fire at Dracula from behind, your eyes drifting to see Trevor coughing up blood on the floor. Dracula hides behind his billowing black cape from the flames. While the old vampire was preoccupied with being roasted, you rushed to help Trevor up.

“Speaker Magician,” Dracula growls with disdain, trudging through the flames and swiping at her hand to subdue the flames. 

Sypha tries to block his attack with a slab of ice, but the sheer force of his blow sends her flying backward and his claw-like nails slash her bicep.

“Sypha!!” Trevor calls out, charging at the vampire.

Your brother tugs on Dracula’s cape, causing the vampire to face him. Trevor hit him in the face a handful of times, but Dracula didn’t budge once.

With a smug look, Dracula looked down at the monster hunter, “You must be one of the Belmonts.”

With that, Dracula lands a gut punch on Trevor that lifts him off the ground then grabs him by the neck. Your brother tries to pull away while Dracula lifts an arm, sharp fingernails pointed at his throat.

“You two will be the last of your line,” He continues, sending a chill down your spine.

You quickly use your powers to create a bow in your hands, an arrow manifesting in the bow rest, “No!”

You let the arrow fly, and it strikes Dracula in the left shoulder, he doesn’t flinch at the force at first, but his brow furrows as it begins to char his skin

His eyes flicker to you, his lips turned into a scowl, “And you–”

He’s interrupted when Alucard’s long sword easily sinks through his arm and wrist on the opposite arm before he can pull out the arrow. Dracula winces as Sypha slides underneath his arms to blast fire in his face. The vampire grunts, releasing Trevor’s neck begrudgingly as the other two hold him at bay. 

You take a deep breath with your arms outstretched on either side. The bow in your hand fizzles away as a rumbling can be heard fast approaching. Using your chlorokinesis, vines erupt from stone flooring, pushing through the layers of the castle as if they were nothing. The vines snugly wrap around Dracula’s ankles and calves, catching him by surprise. You probably ripped a bunch of holes in the castle by summoning them, but it was that or nothing. He’s essentially held there until Sypha is strained by her fire blast. You watch as it flickers out and is followed by a nearly lethal backhand that sends her headfirst into the hallway wall.

Your vines held steadfast but that was until Alucard was flung backward, hitting the wall before collapsing onto the ground. Dracula’s violent gaze is now on you, using the force of a kick to free one of his legs. Before The vampire could get away fully, Trevor attempts an attack but is kneed in the stomach by his free leg. In a flash he’s in front of you, figure dark and imposing. You can’t react before he grabs you by the throat, lifting you off the ground.

“Abomination, you’ll die first…”

With little effort, he swings you up with one hand and slams your body down onto the cold stone flooring. The chokeslam by Dracula makes the marble crack and break around you. Nearly breaking into the flooring and sending you down to the floor below the skirmish. 

Your eyes once on Dracula, fade to black, feeling your mind adrift as a fog lingers in. You think you could hear your brother calling your name, but all falls to silence.

That was when you felt the heat from the flames licking at your heels, running as fast as your little legs could take you. You follow your big brother and a few of the servants, trying to keep up with the adults as they usher you down the staircases. One hand holds onto your doll and the other curled around Trevor’s fingers.

The heat worsened as it crept into the house like the monsters you were taught to destroy. You wanted to cry from fear, your little heart hardly able to keep up with all that was happening, but your brother stayed strong. You would do the same. 

While the adults closed the door to the hold with a pretty blue spell, they told you to go down the stairs to see your father. The grandiose staircase was so dark and long, a large pit in your stomach. You had snuck here before, but this was different. 

Trevor would guide you to the hold, nearly dragging you to the bottom floor to reunite with your father and stepmother. When the floor came into view, you could see your parents talking with a handful of panicked butlers and maids. Your father’s back was turned until he heard the small footsteps, spinning quickly to look at his two children. He would hurry to them, checking them once over for injuries only to find they were dusted with soot and ash. 

When he spoke to you and your brother, you couldn’t hear anything, your ears ringing and muffling his words. He would pull Trevor aside first, speaking to your brother with a stern and determined expression. Trevor would nod to his father without a word, his face stoic like a boy who was forced to become a man in an instant. 

After your father’s words with Trevor, he looks to his youngest child, his daughter. He’s crouched low, his hand holding onto yours as he looks into your eyes. He speaks, but you cannot listen, even if you try. His eyes are soft, his expression unlike any face you had seen him make before. Gabriel Belmont’s words would go unheard, his last exchange with his daughter forgotten in the expanse of this traumatic moment.

“Y/N…”

A different voice echoes softly from somewhere, but not from Gabriel’s lips. You look around in an attempt to find the speaker. 

“Y/N… Y/N! Wake up!”

Your eyes flicker open, feeling warm tears slide down your cheeks. Your vision is blurry, as Trevor leans over your body, his hand firmly shaking your shoulder. You had never seen him so troubled, frantically trying to make sure his sister was okay.

“Oh God, Y/N…” Trevor says with relief, slowly helping you sit up from your body-sized hole in the stone floor. 

You groan, feeling your head pounding and burning in pain, your hand lifting to rub your temple and finding wet blood staining the side of your face. 

“You’ve been out for a few minutes. We need to rejoin with Sypha and help Alucard,” Trevor says, his eyes trained on you, “But only come if you can.”

It was hard to listen to Trevor when you couldn’t help but think of your dream. It felt so real, like something you had experienced before, but that was impossible. You didn’t remember anything from the night the church burned your house and killed your parents, right?

“Y/N?” Trevor asks, catching your attention from your thoughtful daze.

You shake your head, “Yeah, yeah… Let’s go,” You say before getting up from the floor with a groan.

Your head pounded, your gait staggering as you recompose yourself. Trevor helped you walk for a few paces before you were steady, your eyes fixed on your brother. 

Trevor may remember that night. You could ask him if you and the others somehow survive this altercation with the legendary Dracula. He’ll either remember or think you were crazy for thinking up some fake memory.

You shake your head, trying to think straight as you and Trevor begin to run, soon catching up with Sypha and finding Alucard. When entering the small bedroom, you look on in shock, seeing a withered Dracula reaching out towards his son. The vampire’s flesh looked as if it was melting off the bone, hair thinning and falling out. 

Alucard seemed frozen as he looked at the zombification of his father, Trevor moving in quickly to slice off the walking corpse’s head. With the slice, a puff of black smoke erupts from the exposed neck, blood splattering on the floor and the head plopping onto the floor. 

“Step back… Let me finish this,” Sypha says sternly, holding her hands up with a determined expression.

Alucard hesitantly takes a couple of steps backward, a rueful and distant look in his golden eyes. His hand rests against one of the bedposts, hand on the wood with a trembling grip.

Sypha’s fire encircled Dracula’s corpse, enveloping it in red-hot flames that made you recoil. You take a step back, feeling your heart race with that same feeling of fear from your dream. That was before black smoke began to billow from the charred remains, howling with faces of evil and anguish within. 

The smoke began to fill the room, oppressive, causing your allies to cover their faces. You form a small ball of light in your hand, releasing it into the air. It expands and radiates a golden glow, which causes the smoke to flee and break through the bedroom window, and escape into the night.

Your group looks at you as the smoke dissipates, the orb disappearing when you stagger. Your brain feels as if it’s about to burst, struggling to breathe from the pain. Trevor would grab your arm, holding you steady as you reoriented.

“Is… Is that it?” Sypha asks, looking at you and Trevor.

“Alucard? Did we do it?” Trevor would ask, continuing the line of questioning and his gaze on the back of Alucard.

Alucard would look at the burn spot on the rug where his father’s corpse was burned, a wedding ring left abandoned where Dracula was felled.

“We did…” Alucard said quietly, his gaze unmoving, “I… Killed my father.”

Trevor would cross his arms, leaning against the doorway, “You ended a war on humankind. Don't get weepy about it.”

Giving Trevor a silent glare, you walk over to Alucard, your movements uncoordinated due to your head injury.

You place a gentle hand on the dhampir’s shoulder, “Your sacrifice helped save countless lives, but you can still mourn your father.”

He doesn’t flinch away from your touch, but he doesn’t turn to look at you, “He died a long time ago.”

The group silently walks down the steps of the castle and you can’t help but observe the many vampire corpses from the previous fight. It felt as if that fight was forever ago, now officially the longest night of your life. 

You notice Trevor and Sypha walking ahead, so you hang back to walk with Alucard. His gaze lingers over you, noting the blood on the side of your cheek.

“Are you alright?” He asks quietly, the hint of a smile on his lips.

You give him a small nod, your fingers twitch when brushing against his, “Dizzy… But I feel… I feel good,” You say, your hand moving to interlock with his.

Alucard returns the gesture, your fingers lacing together as you walk. Besides the persistent throbbing in your head, you felt hopeful for the future. If you could survive a run-in with Dracula, then you felt as if you could take on the whole world. The group was beaten and bruised, but contentment washed over like a calming wave after a storm.

Chapter Text

You stood in the hallway, where an hour earlier, a fierce battle had raged. Now, only the scorch marks and crumbled stone bore witness to the legendary fight that decided humanity's fate. Taking a steadying breath, you raised your arms, flexing your fingers, your eyes tracing the vines you had summoned during the chaos.

You remembered Trevor’s words, “You should probably fix those before you leave or Alucard will be cleaning that up for days… In fact, maybe you should leave them,” He had said with a chuckle before leaving you to it.

It could take Alucard a while to dig out the vines and dispose of them when it only took mere minutes to send the vines back with your abilities. You watch as the vines unfurl and regress into the holes in the marble and guide them back outside the castle with surgical precision. When the vines were through, the breath you were holding escaped you, feeling your head pound from the injury you sustained earlier, a bandage now wrapped around your head.

Absentmindedly rubbing the back of your head, your eyes drifted to the large hole in the floor where you'd been slammed. Trevor’s words replayed in your mind.

“..Fix those before you leave,” You mumble to yourself before Sypha’s distant voice brings you to attention.

You follow the sound of the speaker’s voice, taking the stairs before entering the large castle foyer through a side door. You spot Trevor and Sypha quickly, Trevor noticing you and giving you a small smile at the sight of his sister recovering well. Your eyes flicker to the main door of the castle that remains wide open, sunlight shining through the doors and greenery visible just outside.

Sypha looks to you and Trevor now as you walk toward them, “What do you think he's going to do now?” She asks before she’s interrupted.

“I had a plan, you know,” Alucard speaks from atop the stairs deeper within the foyer. 

The three of you turned as he descended the steps, dressed only in a white long-sleeve tunic. You almost flushed at the sight—he looked effortlessly striking, even in his simplest clothes.

“I was going to go back to Gresit, return to my vault, go back to sleep,” He continues.

“But?” Trevor asks with a hand on his hip.

“If I leave the castle here… All his work is inside it. His libraries, his materials, his knowledge. What happens to all that if the structure is abandoned?” He asks, reaching the end of the stairs, at the same level as the three of you.

He looks to the ground,” I can't just leave it here. It'd be nothing, but a grave to be robbed.”

He pauses a moment more, looking up at his comrades, “So, let it be my grave.”

Before you could open your mouth to protest, Trevor beat you to the punch.

“No.”

“No?” Alucard asks, cocking his head as he looks at the eldest Belmont in curiosity.

“No. We can't move this thing. Sypha broke it,” Trevor says bluntly, gesturing to Sypha.

“I did not,” Sypha defends herself, crossing her arms and looking to you for support.

“You really did,” You respond, giving her a half smile and a shrug.

“I do not break things!” Sypha stressed, certain to maintain her innocence in the fact.

“So, we're all agreed she broke it?” Trevor asks before Alucard nods.

“Oh, yes,” Affirms the dhampir.

“So it's staying right here, forever, right on top of the Belmont Hold,” He says, gesturing to the door leading outside of the castle.

“Which is now also open to the world. Up here, your father's collected knowledge,” Trevor droned, waving his hand around at the expanse of the castle.

“Down there, the collected knowledge of your mother's people and our family,” Trevor explains, motioning to his sister.

“As above, so below. Both halves of you, Alucard.”

“I’m listening,” Alucard says, a somewhat of an annoyed tone in his voice.

You placed your hands on your hips, ready for your brother to get to the point.

Trevor stalked over to Alucard with a grin, slapping his hand atop the dhampir’s shoulder, “Behold, you sulky, half-vampire bastard,” He said, motioning to the outside of the castle once more.

“If my lovely sister agrees with my decision, I bequeath you the Belmont Hold. Make that and the castle your home, not your grave. Be its last defender,” Trevor explained, pulling away from the other male and giving him a bow.

You raised an eyebrow, a little surprised at how quickly Trevor offered up the Hold. Annoyed at his disregard for you, but not concerned, you knew Alucard’s hands would be good ones.

Both men looked at you—Trevor with a sheepish grin and Alucard with a softer, more questioning gaze.

You shrug and cross your arms, “Sure. Why not.”

Alucard’s eyes widen a hint of shock, looking at the two siblings with uncertainty, “You two are giving me your home?”

Stepping closer with a smile, you place a gentle hand on his shoulder “It's yours. Our childhood home and your childhood home. I’m sure you could make something out of it and I could think of no one better to take it.”

A flash of hesitance was in Alucard’s eyes until he gave you a small nod and a faint smile.

While Trevor and Sypha decided to go on a walk together, you wandered around the ruins of your old home. You had asked to speak with Trevor, but he was insistent on the fact he walked with Sypha first. You reluctantly agreed, telling him to meet you by the ruins of the Belmont estate when he was finished. 

The rising sun cast a soft purple and golden glow across the familiar stonework. Hands stuffed in your pockets, you kicked at the scattered rubble, feeling a familiar sense of being sidelined. Trevor had always been distant. Missing birthdays, and if he did show up, it was usually with alcohol on his breath.

You sighed and perched on a large stone, staring at the ruins, lost in thought about your future. You could follow Trevor wherever he decided to go, as he seemed to be turning over a new leaf. Or you could return to your small, quiet cabin. Then there was the option of staying at the castle with Alucard.

You felt your face get hot at the thought. Surely not. Staying with Alucard probably wasn’t an option, however, nearly dying at the hand of Dracula has shifted your perspective on things.

“Hey!” Trevor called out from behind you, causing you to turn around and spot your brother jogging toward you.

He waved and you reciprocated, slowing down his jog to a walk when he reached you.

“How are ya feeling?” Your brother asks, gesturing to your head.

Your hand lifts to rub your nape, “Ah, it should heal by tomorrow or the next. I’m not worried about it.”

Due to your special heritage, you had an increased healing factor that you noticed from a very young age. Compared to Trevor, your scratches from childhood skirmishes always seemed to disappear quicker than his own.

You’re quiet for a moment, looking out at the rubble and Trevor does the same.

He sighs, “Y/N if this is about me giving the house to Alucard–”

You interrupt him, closing your eyes for a moment and shaking your head, “No. No, it's not that, Trevor… When I was knocked out, I don’t know how long I was out, but I had a dream.”

You turn to him again, his piercing blue eyes firmly on you as you speak, “And it was more like a memory. The night of the fire.”

Trevor’s eyes widen at your words, but he nods in understanding, urging you to continue.

“When the maids took us down into the hold the see father… I-I couldn’t hear what he was saying, but he was talking to me and you… Do you remember what he said that night?”

Trevor crossed his arms, his blue eyes fixed on you, a seriousness settling over him. “He told me to keep you safe and to be strong. That was his final request.”

Trevor looked to the side, your eyes trained on your brother as if the next few words would be crucial and that there was more to the story.

“The way he looked at me… He was desperate,” Trevor added quietly. “Like he needed me to listen to him, just that one time.”

You remembered your brother as a child, carefree and rebellious, always getting away with things. Then the fire came, and his world, like yours, was burned to ash.

Feeling a surge of emotion, you walked over and hugged him tightly. “Thank you, Trevor,” you whispered as he hugged you back.

Trevor’s account only brought you more questions than answers, but his help would suffice for now.

“Well, on a lighter note,” Trevor starts as he pulls away to look you in the eye, “Sypha is coming with us for a while before she travels back home to her caravan. It’ll do you some good to have a female friend, right?”

You forced a smile, not wanting to dampen his good spirits as he playfully patted your shoulder. “Yeah, it’ll be fun,” you lied, the smile not quite reaching your eyes.

Once Trevor left, you found yourself alone again, standing in the ruins. Traveling with Trevor and Sypha might not be the exciting adventure he imagined for you. Being the third wheel to their budding romance was hardly appealing.

Lost in thought, you wandered back into Dracula’s castle, your feet guiding you through the grand, empty halls. Eventually, you found yourself in a strange room, a lab, it seemed, filled with remnants of experiments long forgotten. Most of the tools and such were unfamiliar to you, tapping at a broken bottle and stiffening when a voice is heard from behind you.

“How’s your head? Are you feeling alright?” Alucard’s voice came, smooth and quiet, causing you to turn around. 

He stood in the doorway, his expression unreadable yet softened with concern.

You nod, “It’s better that Dracula got me rather than Trevor or Sypha… I’m durable. I promise.”

Alucard hummed in agreement, his arms folded behind his back as he stepped further into the room, his golden eyes never leaving yours. “You should get some rest like the others before you leave this afternoon,” he said, his voice gentle but firm.

His concern was touching, but the weight of uncertainty still lingered heavily on your shoulders. 

You rubbed your forehead with your palm and sighed, “Trevor is so sure that I tag along with him and Sypha wherever they go… But I… I don’t think I want to.”

Alucard raised an eyebrow but remained silent, allowing you to speak your mind.

“After nearly dying just hours ago… it’s made me think about my life. I’ve always followed what Trevor or my father said, how I should handle myself, or what my next steps should be. But now… I feel like it’s time I make those decisions for myself.”

You paused, your words hanging in the air between you. Alucard watched you intently, the faintest trace of a smile playing on his lips. 

“And what do you want?” he asked quietly, his voice filled with genuine curiosity.

You glanced around the room before your gaze settled back on him, “I don’t know yet. I just know I’m tired of living the life others want for me.”

Alucard steps closer, one of his hands lifting to rest on your shoulder, mimicking the gesture you used on him in the grand foyer of the castle, “And I am sure you will make the right choice, Little Belmont.”

He says before pulling away and giving you a nod before leaving you to your own devices. He left you alone with your thoughts, not aiming to sway you one way or the other, which caused your heart to flutter in response.

And so, roughly two hours later, you were helping Trevor load up the last of the supplies onto the wagon. The sun was higher now, casting warm light over the scene, but your mind was elsewhere, your heart heavier than you expected. You overheard Sypha talking to Alucard in the distance, their voices were soft, and you tried to catch a few words, but your attention quickly shifted as the bags Trevor had tossed onto the wagon slipped off.

You grumble at your brother, picking up one of the bags and tossing it up with ease, “Trevor! You’re going to bruise the fruit!”

He laughed, shrugging as he stacked another bag, "Ah, they'll survive. It’s not like we’re selling them at the market.”

The chuckles from Sypha and Alucard catch your attention, making you flustered.

“Well, maybe I’ll have just enough trouble,” Sypha teases Alucard as she walks towards the wagon.

“Just enough,” Alucard echoed quietly, his eyes flickering to you as he followed Sypha from behind.

Alucard's golden eyes flicked to yours, and in that glance, it felt as though he was trying to say something, something he couldn’t quite put into words. It was as if he was urging you to decide for yourself, without pressure or expectations.

Trevor, oblivious to the exchange, threw an arm around your shoulder, pulling you close, "Belmonts together again, huh? We’re going to take down some monsters or what?"

His grin was wide and easy, but his words weighed on you. He looked at you like it was a done deal as if you had already chosen to follow him and Sypha. After all, you were a Belmont. You always had been.

You gave him an awkward smile, pulling away slightly, feeling the tension settle in your chest, "I... I think I'm going to stay here. Help Alucard protect the castle."

The smile faded from Trevor’s face, replaced by shock. 

"Wait—what?" he stammered, his arm dropping from your shoulder, "You're staying here? With him?"

Alucard blinked, visibly startled by your words, his golden eyes widening in surprise, “If you are sure, of course.”

The dhampir was sure that he would be in solitude, his atonement, but you choosing to stay with him? That was something he hadn’t dared to hope for.

You nod, looking at the two men, “Anyone would go mad alone in this castle… And I would also like to use Dracula’s research, to find out how to find the elves. Maybe I could finally see my mother if she’s out there.”

He sighed in defeat, giving you a crooked smile, though his eyes still held that glimmer of disbelief, “Fine... I’ll allow it.”

Trevor pulled you into a tight, almost desperate embrace, his chin resting on the top of your head, "Be safe, alright?"

You closed your eyes, hugging him back just as tightly, feeling the weight of years of battles, losses, and love between you. "You too. Love you."

With a final squeeze and a look in your eyes, he let you go, hopping up onto the wagon. 

Sypha, ever the optimist, clasped your hands with a wide smile, "I hope your research goes well! We’ll come back to visit, don’t worry."

You gave her a grateful nod, your smile warming as Alucard helped her up onto the wagon. Trevor, however, wasn’t done yet.

He turned in his seat, narrowing his eyes at the dhampir standing beside you.
"And Alucard?" he called, raising a finger, "Don’t you dare touch my little sister... or I’ll revoke the Belmont Hold."

Your face flushed with annoyance. "Trevor!"

Trevor would chuckle before lifting a hand and waving to Alucard, to which the dhampir would flip Trevor off with a shit-eating grin.

“Ah, fuck you…” Trevor says with a smile before ushering the horse to move forward.

You stood in silence as you watched them disappear from view, a strange pang twisting in your chest. You knew you’d see them again, but still, the separation felt final in a way you hadn’t expected. The castle suddenly seemed larger, its empty halls waiting.

Alucard stepped closer to you, his presence gentle but grounding as he placed a hand on your arm, “Are you alright?”

You glanced at him, taking a deep breath before giving a small nod, "Yeah… I’ll be fine. Watching him leave… Just feels different this time."

With one last look at the road, you stood beside Alucard, the soft spring breeze brushing past, gently tugging at your hair. The distant wagon carrying Trevor and Sypha was now nothing more than a memory fading into the horizon. Turning away from that view, your eyes met Alucard's, his golden gaze soft and steady. Behind him loomed the castle, its shadow casting over the ruins of the Belmont estate.

"I'm going to check a few things out at the hold. Don't wait up on me," you said, offering him a small smile before stepping away and heading toward the ruins.

Alucard returned your smile, feeling a weight lifted off his chest. He watched you walk away, the breeze playing with your hair. He was at ease, finally able to breathe.

"Take your time," he called out, watching you go. The sight of you leaving put a small seed of worry in his mind. What would he do if something happened to you? He shook away the thought. You were a Belmont, after all.

While Alucard returned to the castle, you took the stone steps down into the hold, looking down at the demolished staircase leading down below. You groan in frustration, forgetting that the night creatures destroyed it and you were too tired to make a vine staircase. Mumbling, you slink back into the castle, your plans foiled temporarily until you could get some sleep.

Wandering the quiet halls, you searched for a bedroom that wasn’t in complete disrepair. The grand structure, while still magnificent, was a haunting reminder of the battles it had seen. But before you could settle anywhere, a faint noise caught your attention.

A cry.

You paused, straining to listen. It was soft, barely audible, but unmistakably the sound of someone weeping. Curiosity and concern pulled you forward as you followed the sound down the corridor. Was it possible? Was Alucard crying?

You found the sobs coming from Dracula’s office, where you had just been earlier that day. Peeking inside, your heart clenched at the sight that awaited you. Alucard sat in his father’s chair, his head bowed, shoulders shaking as he cried. Tears streamed down his face, unchecked, his fingers gripping the front of his hair as if trying to hold himself together. The pain in his sobs was raw, a torrent of grief and loneliness spilling out in the quiet room.

Without thinking, you rushed to his side, crouching in front of him. Seeing Alucard like this, the man who had faced so much and endured unimaginable loss, broke something in you. You reached out, placing a hand on his knee, trying to offer whatever comfort you could.

"Alucard...Alucard it’s okay," You whispered, your voice filled with empathy.

He flinched at your touch, startled, but when his red, puffy tear-streaked eyes met yours, he didn’t pull away. Instead, he leaned into your presence, as though your mere being was an anchor in the storm of his emotions.

"It's not," Alucard managed to whisper, his voice hoarse, "I... I never know how to feel. And now, I feel too much."

He shakes his head, his hands now trying to cover his face, “I'm sorry," he choked out, his voice thick with sorrow. "I didn’t want you to see me like this."

You pull his damp hands from his face, taking them in yours gently and forcing him to look at you, “Never apologize…”

He lets out another choked sob, holding your hands tight, “I killed my father… My mother is dead. I have no one, nothing.”

“No, Alucard,” You whisper, your thumbs rubbing the tops of his hands as you hold them, “I'm here. I won't leave you. I won't go away."

For a long moment, he stared at you through the tears, as if trying to comprehend your words. 

His grip on your hands tightened, and he let out a shaky breath, "What would I do without you?" he whispered, his voice fragile, "I’m afraid of what I would become alone. What would happen to me."

You smiled softly, your legs shifting as you stood, though you kept holding his hands, "You won’t have to find out."

Alucard stood as well, rising to meet you. The quiet between you was heavy, but not uncomfortable. It was filled with the unspoken understanding that in this moment, you were each other’s lifeline.

"Thank you," Alucard murmured, his voice soft and sincere, "For being here, Y/N. I didn’t expect… I didn’t expect this."

You smiled at him, your eyes meeting his with a sense of quiet resolve. "You can always talk to me, Alucard. Anytime."

And then, without hesitation, you pulled him into a hug. Your arms gently wrapped around his waist, your cheek resting against his chest as his arms slowly circled your back in return. The moment was tender and intimate, and your heart fluttered despite your attempts to push those thoughts aside. His warmth, the solidness of his presence, comforted you in ways you hadn’t expected.

For a long time, you stayed like that, holding onto each other as the weight of everything fell away. In that quiet room, amidst the shadows of the castle, you found a shared solace, a bond forged in grief, and in the promise of not facing the future alone.

As you pulled away slightly, Alucard’s golden eyes met yours, "You don’t have to stay just for me," he whispered, though his voice held a trace of something else. Hope, maybe, "But I’m glad you’re here."

You smiled, your fingers lingering on his arms, "I’m staying because I want to, Alucard. For you… and for me."

And as the shadows of the castle wrapped around you both, there was a sense of quiet certainty. Whatever came next, you would face it together.

Chapter Text

From an early age, you knew you were different. Not just from your brother, but from all the other children you played with. You were faster, sharper, and always the one winning races to the frustration of your peers. What started as childhood fun quickly turned into something far more serious when your father began to notice.

That was when your training began.

It wasn’t tradition to teach the women of the family the ways of monster hunting and fighting, but Gabriel Belmont made an executive decision. Due to your special heritage, it would be a waste to squander your potential and merely marry you off to strengthen connections or to hush the tensions the family had garnered with the church.

With you, your father thought Dracula could finally be found, tracked down, and killed… At least that’s what you thought his ultimate goal was. That would explain the countless hours of training with your brother.

You remember when Gabriel first interrogated you, asking if you had noticed any special abilities and pushing you to the limits at just six years old. When your body finally gave out, it was Trevor who caught you, his arms steadying you while his voice cried in protest. It was one of the rare moments your brother openly defied your father.

That instance didn’t stop the grueling training you would do for the next three or four years with your older brother until your father died in the fire that consumed your home. Your brother then became your teacher when it came to fighting shortly after. Today, while you had grown to appreciate the skills you’d honed under your father’s strict eye, you could never quite forgive him for reducing you to a living tool, a trump card in the Belmonts’ eternal war against the undead. Meanwhile, Trevor had only taught you what he knew so you could protect yourself.

Now, those memories felt like a lifetime ago. You wandered the shadowy halls of Dracula’s castle in the quiet hours of early morning, the weight of the past pressing faintly on your mind. Alucard gave you a small tour the day before shortly after Trevor and Sypha’s departure, and showed you to a room available to sleep in.

The bed wasn’t in the best shape, but that didn’t stop you from sleeping just about a full day. When you arose from your deep and nearly disorienting sleep, you felt the urge to stretch your bones and enjoy the cool weather.

As you finally found your way out of the castle and into the forest beyond, a faint headache pulsed at your temples. You rubbed at the spot absently, where a bandage had wrapped your head the day before. The wound was mainly healed, but the ache lingered, along with a tightness in your neck. You ignored it, focusing instead on the crispness of the air and the comforting familiarity of the woods you grew up playing in.

The forest had always been your sanctuary, even as a child. You could feel it welcoming you now, the subtle energy of the trees thrumming in your chest like a warm greeting. You weren’t sure if it was your imagination or something deeper, but it felt as if the forest remembered you just as you remembered it.

You plucked an apple from a nearby tree, the juicy sweetness of it your makeshift breakfast as you continued your stroll. Your eyes soon fell upon a small, familiar structure nestled among the trees: a crumbling stone building, its walls long since reduced to rubble, leaving only the sturdy archway of its entrance intact.

Approaching it, you ran your fingers over the worn surface of the stone, the texture rough and cool beneath your touch. A faint smile tugged at your lips as a childhood memory surfaced. Maid Faira, the old woman who had looked after you and Trevor, had once told you and your brother that this ruin was the secret lair of Leon Belmont himself. Trevor, ever so gullible, had believed her wholeheartedly, spending hours imagining the grand battles and schemes that might have taken place here. You, on the other hand, had been more skeptical. If Leon Belmont had any connection to this place, it was probably where he stashed his mistresses.

You snort at the thought, finding yourself funny as your hand pulls away from the stone as you take the last bite of your apple. Instead of throwing the apple core to the side, you crouch down low to the ground, using your hands to dig a small hole in the dirt.

While you didn’t have a mystical connection to animals, you had always felt a deep gratitude toward the plants and the forest itself. Returning the apple core to the earth felt like a small offering, a way to honor the trees that had sustained you. Gently, you set the core into the ground, brushing the dirt over it in soft handfuls.

You were nearly finished when you felt a shift in the energy around you, a faint yet familiar presence approaching rapidly. An embarrassed flush bloomed across your cheeks.

Looking up, you saw Alucard walking toward you, his golden hair catching the morning light, an intrigued smile playing at his lips. He carried a woven wicker basket at his side, half-filled with an assortment of herbs, berries, and fish wrapped in a cloth.

Before he could make any snarky remark, you stood quickly and dusted your hands off, rubbing your palms together. “I ate an apple and buried the core,” you muttered defensively, your gaze meeting his. “Don’t think I just play in the dirt for fun.”

The dhampir’s smile deepened, and a soft chuckle escaped him, the sound warm and unguarded. “I didn’t think you did, but you do have a way of surprising me, little Belmont.”

His amber eyes lingered on you, studying you with a quiet intensity that made your cheeks flush even more. The silence between you hung heavy, as though there were something unsaid.

Then he broke it with a gentle, almost boyish tone. “I was out gathering ingredients for breakfast,” he said, lifting the basket slightly for emphasis. “But I’m glad I stumbled upon you. Would you like to join me?”

You hesitated, tilting your head at him, “For the cooking or the eating?”

He smirked, stepping closer until he was barely an arm's length away. “Both,” he replied simply. “Unless you’re afraid you might enjoy my cooking too much.”

You laughed softly, shaking your head. “Fine,” you relented, brushing some stray dirt from your trousers. “But I expect you to share your foraging wisdom. If you let me pick a poisonous berry, it’s on you.”

His laughter was quiet, but it lit up his face, and the weight of his usual stoicism temporarily lifted. “I think I can manage that.”

The two of you walked back toward the castle together, the morning sun filtering through the trees, casting dappled patterns on the forest floor. Alucard shared tidbits about the herbs and berries he’d picked, and you found yourself relaxing in his company, the tension between you giving way to something warmer, more comfortable.

When Alucard led you to the kitchen, it was easy to see its rough shape on closer inspection. The counters were filthy, covered in dust and stains. Some dark red stains even looked like old blood. The black and white tile was dirty and scuffed by the heels of uncaring vampires no doubt.

"Ah… Maybe we should clean up a bit first before even thinking about cooking anything," you said, scanning the room for a cloth or rag.

As you rummaged through a few drawers, you caught sight of the large stove. Its design was unfamiliar, with side compartments and burners that looked nothing like the small stove back in your cabin. You wiped it with the rag you found, revealing a bit of its original gleam beneath the dirt.

Alucard’s soft chuckle pulled your attention. He stepped closer, holding out his hand for the rag. "Allow me to handle the stove," he offered, setting his basket of ingredients on the counter. His tone carried quiet confidence as if this task came naturally to him.

You handed him the cloth without hesitation, suppressing a small flush of embarrassment. It only made sense—this was his home, after all. He likely knew every corner of it better than anyone. While he worked on cleaning the stove, you busied yourself with exploring the cupboards, hoping to find something usable.

When you pulled open one of the smaller cabinets, a faint herbal aroma wafted out. Inside the jar, you discover a blend of dried herbs and spices stored in small, intricately labeled jars. Taking one jar out, you popped it open and inhaled deeply. The scent was earthy and comforting, a mix of chamomile, mint, and something floral you couldn’t quite place.

“You found something?” Alucard asked from across the room, glancing over his shoulder as he wiped the stove’s surface.

"Tea, I think," you said, holding up the jar for him to see. "It smells incredible."

Alucard set the rag aside and walked over, taking the jar from your hands to inspect it. His expression softened as he read the label, a hint of nostalgia crossing his face. "This was one of my mother’s blends. She used to make it when...Times were simpler." He paused, his gaze lowering as if caught in a memory.

The emotion that flickered across his face tugged at your heart. Without thinking, you placed your hands over his, cradling the small jar together. "Let me make you some tea," you said gently, offering a soft smile. “If you’ll get the coals for the stove.”

For a moment, he seemed caught off guard by your kindness, but then he nodded, his lips curving into a faint, appreciative smile. "Of course," he replied, his tone warmer now.

As Alucard moved to retrieve the coals, you set the jar aside and began searching for a kettle. You eventually found one, a shiny copper metal, and rinsed it in the large basin with one of the buckets of fresh water. Alucard returned, carrying a small container of coals, his movements deliberate and careful as he prepared the stove.

The two of you worked together in companionable silence, a rhythm naturally forming between you. Once the kettle was set on the now-clean stove and the water began to heat, you couldn’t help but glance at him. There was something about seeing Alucard in this domestic setting, his usual stoic demeanor softened, that made your chest tighten.

“What else did your mother use to make?” you asked softly, hoping to draw him out of his lingering sadness.

Alucard placed some fish fillets on the stove with some crushed berries and various other ingredients, the hot pan causing the meat and berries to hiss and sizzle. He hesitated for a moment, then looked at you with a faint smile.

"She had a way of making even the simplest meals feel special," he said, his voice tinged with nostalgia. "But it was the little things... like this tea, or the way she’d hum while doing her research. She found joy in the mundane tasks… And loved ordinary people.”

The kettle began to whistle, breaking the Alucard’s reflection of his mother. You poured the water over the tea leaves, the scent filling the air as you let it steep. Handing him the first cup, you said, "Then let’s make this a moment she would’ve enjoyed—a little joy in the ordinary."

He took the cup, his fingers brushing yours again as he held it. "Thank you," he said softly, his golden eyes meeting yours. "For reminding me of that."

You nodded, motioning for Alucard to take the first sip as you blew on the surface of your cup, watching the steam curl into the air. He hesitated briefly, his golden eyes flickering between you and the tea as if savoring the moment before lifting the cup to his lips.

Taking a careful sip, Alucard closed his eyes, a subtle hum of approval escaping him. "It's exactly as I remember," he said, his voice low and contemplative. "She always said this blend was meant to soothe the mind."

You smiled at his reaction, finally tasting the tea yourself. The earthy, floral flavors filled your senses, spreading warmth through you like a gentle embrace. Setting the cup down, you glanced at him with a soft, teasing smile, “Are you feeling soothed, Alucard?”

A chuckle escaped him as he tilted his head slightly, his eyes narrowing at you, “I think I might be, though I suspect that has more to do with the company than the tea.”

The warmth in your chest deepened at his words, but you played it off with a light laugh, turning your attention to the basket of fruit he had gathered. “Flatterer,” you muttered, moving to inspect the contents.

While Alucard finished his tea and continued cooking the fish he had brought in earlier, you busied yourself with washing the fruit. The cold water running over your hands helped ground you as you worked, slicing into the ripe pieces with precision.

Occasionally, you glanced over at Alucard. His gaze was focused, and the set of his jaw was locked firmly as he worked. It was hard not to admire his quiet grace in even the simplest of tasks, making your heart flip in the process.

The smell of the freshly prepared ingredients filled the kitchen, blending with the fading aroma of tea. You placed the sliced fruit into a wooden bowl, arranging it neatly before setting it on the table. "The fruit’s ready," you said, wiping your hands on a nearby cloth.

Alucard looked up from his work, a hint of a smile playing on his lips. “Perfect timing. The fish will be ready soon.”

The tension between you lingered in the air like an unspoken promise. As you stepped closer to set the fruit on the dining table, you felt his golden gaze follow your movements, the faintest flicker of something unguarded in his expression.

“Do you always work so gracefully?” you teased lightly, leaning slightly against the table as you watched him sear the fish on the stove.

He raised an eyebrow, smirking faintly as he wiped his hands on a clean cloth, “Grace is a fortunate byproduct, not the goal. You’re the one with precision,” he remarked, nodding to the neatly arranged fruit in the bowl, “I doubt I could make fruit look so... inviting.”

The subtle compliment reddened your cheeks, though you pretended not to notice. “Well, you’re not doing so bad yourself, Alucard.”

He gave a quiet laugh, the sound was softer than you’d expected, sending a gentle shiver through you. Silence fell between you again, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. Instead, it felt like the two of you were carefully circling something fragile that neither of you was ready to name.

The two of you ate in comfortable silence. You couldn’t remember the last time you had eaten fish for breakfast, but you didn’t complain. It’s not like you had the time for a run to the market in the nearest town.

He took a sip of his tea, savoring the warmth and flavor, before turning his attention to you. "I hope the fish meets your expectations," he said, voice devoid of his usual sarcasm and a spike of nervousness as if seeking approval.

Since your mouth was currently full, you gave him a nod before swallowing, “Oh it’s delicious. I suppose you really can cook.”

Alucard only chuckles and shakes his head from side to side in response. You smiled at his reaction, savoring the seasonings of the fish as the quiet between you settled into something intimate. The tension lingered, unspoken but unmistakable, like a thread pulling you closer to him.

Alucard set his teacup down carefully, his golden eyes lingering on you for a moment longer than usual. His gaze held a depth that made your heart ache, as though he were wrestling with something. Finally, he broke the silence, his voice quieter than before.

“There’s… something I would like to share with you,” he began, fingers idly brushing the rim of his cup. His usual composed demeanor seemed to falter, revealing a hint of vulnerability.

You tilted your head, curiosity piqued, “What is it?”

He hesitated, as though weighing the significance of his words. “Adrian,” he said softly, almost as if testing the name on his tongue. “That was the name my mother gave me. Before I became Alucard to the Wallachians.”

The sincerity in his tone struck you, and you couldn’t help but feel the weight of the moment. His choice to share something so personal wasn’t lost on you.

“Adrian,” you repeated gently, letting the name roll off your tongue.

It felt softer, warmer than the stoic “Alucard” he presented to the world.

He nodded, his gaze never leaving yours. “I’ve… rarely shared that with anyone. But I wanted you to know. You’ve shown me kindness, and understanding. And I—” He stopped himself, the words caught in his throat, but the sentiment hung in the air between you.

You felt your breath hitch, your heart pounding at the vulnerability he was offering. “Thank you for telling me,” you said, your voice low but earnest. “It means a lot that you’d trust me with something so important.”

A small, almost shy smile tugged at his lips. For a moment, you saw not the poised and guarded Alucard, but Adrian, someone yearning for connection, for a sense of belonging.

The silence that followed wasn’t uncomfortable but electric, as though the moment could shift at any second. Unable to help yourself, you reached across the table, your hand lightly brushing his. His fingers flinched at first but didn’t pull away. Instead, he turned his hand to lightly clasp yours, the warmth of his touch grounding you.

“I’m glad I’m here,” you said softly, meeting his eyes.

His smile deepened, and he gave your hand a gentle squeeze. “So am I.”

After finishing your meals, the two of you split. You would clean up the kitchen while Alucard entertained the thought of inspecting the Belmont hold. The damage the entrance had taken from the night creatures was extensive. You were surprised he was inclined to check out the old dusty thing but didn’t pry. After a deep clean that had taken you longer than you thought, you decide to see what Alucard was up to in the hold.

Curious about Alucard’s progress, you ventured out to find him. The midday sun was warm on your skin as you made your way toward the ruins of the Belmont estate. You could still remember its grandeur. Its towering walls, the imposing towers, and the promising futures held for its charges. Now, it was little more than rubble, surviving only in fragments.

When reaching the entrance of the Belmont hold, now a gaping hole in the ground, you notice a large pile of wood logs that had been stacked up and set to the side. The scent of freshly cut lumber was unmistakable to your nose, knowing that this was Alucard’s doing.

To your dismay, he wasn’t in the vicinity, and his aura also couldn’t be located by your senses. Since the man could fly, you were going to try to work up the courage to ask him to fly you down there. The thought of his dexterous and strong hands holding you against his chest sent a fluttering storm through your stomach.

With no sign of him, you summoned a vine from the ground, its bright green tendril snaking down into the hold until it reached the bottom. Wrapping your arm and leg securely around the vine, you slid down slowly, taking in the ruined staircase as you descended.

The large portrait of Leon Belmont still hung prominently on the wall, untouched by time or destruction. His piercing blue eyes seemed to follow you, a reminder of the legacy you carried.

Would he have celebrated your triumph against Dracula? Or would your half-human heritage have tarnished his vision of victory? The questions lingered as you touched the ground, the silent ruins of your ancestors whispering stories of the past.

You step out of the stairwell and onto the balcony overlooking the Belmont Hold, your hands gripping the smooth wooden handrail as your gaze sweeps across the vast trove below. The sight fills you with a mix of emotions. Pride, nostalgia, and a lingering sadness.

“Are you proud of me, Father?” you murmur, your voice soft, more a question to the air than a genuine inquiry. Your fingers tighten against the rail, searching for an answer you know will never come.

A sigh escapes your lips as you look around. The hold bore the scars of the recent battle; broken banisters, collapsed shelves, shattered glass. Yet, it wasn’t beyond repair. With some effort and the right tools, you could see it restored to something resembling its former glory.

Determined, you descend the staircase into the depths of the hold, surveying the damage more closely. Without tools, there’s only so much you can do, but you set to work regardless. You right fallen shelves, dust off ancient artifacts, and reorganize scattered items.

Among the relics, you find a few curious objects: jars of immobilizing slime with faded labels, a small hand mirror specifically designed to reflect the gaze of medusae and basilisks, enchanted handcuffs meant to nullify a captive’s powers, a bottle labeled "Sunlight in Liquid Form," and a tiny ring of invisibility that barely fits the tip of your pinky.

You chuckle softly, slipping the ring on and watching as your fingertip disappears. “Useless,” you mutter, pulling it off and setting it back on the shelf with a metallic clink.

Time passes quickly as you lose yourself in the hold’s treasures, but the growl of your stomach snaps you back to reality. Placing a final artifact back in its spot, you glance around, satisfied with the modest progress you’ve made.

Heading back to the stairwell, you stop in front of the vine you summoned earlier, the green tendril awaiting your return. Just as you’re about to climb, a sound above catches your attention, movement on the ground’s surface.

You pause, tilting your head to listen. The faint shuffle of boots and the creak of wood make you relax slightly. It had to be Alucard, likely bringing more wood back for repairs.

“Alucard?” you call out tentatively, your voice echoing faintly up the stairwell.

Instead of a verbal response, a familiar figure leans into view above, his golden hair catching the light as he peers over the edge. Alucard’s gaze meets yours, and a small smirk tugs at his lips.

“I thought I’d find you down here,” his voice calls down to you, laced with amusement.

You place a hand on your hip, shaking your head with a smile. “A Belmont in the Belmont Hold doesn’t sound like much of a surprise.”

He chuckles softly, then steps off the ledge with a grace that takes your breath away. With his dhampiric powers, he descends slowly, his long coat billowing faintly as he lands lightly in front of you, his movements otherworldly.

“You shouldn’t have to climb that vine again,” he says, his tone light but sincere. “Allow me to take you back up.”

You blink, caught off guard by the offer. “Fly me back up? You’d really do that?”

He steps closer, offering a hand to you. His golden eyes gleam with a mixture of warmth and mischief. “It would be far easier for me than for you to climb. Besides,” he adds with a faint smirk, “I’d hardly let you strain yourself when I’m here.”

His words send a flutter through your chest, but you try to play it off. You place your hand in his, feeling the strength in his grip as he pulls you gently toward him.

“Hold on,” he instructs, wrapping one arm securely around your waist. The closeness makes your heart skip a beat, but before you can dwell on it, he lifts off the ground with effortless strength.

The world blurs as he ascends with you in his arms, the cool air rushing past. You hold on tightly, your pulse quickening, though not out of fear. There’s a strange comfort in being so close to him, his steady presence making the height feel insignificant.

He smelled like cedar, like the wood from the trees he had cut down earlier. The feel of his body against yours causes your stomach to flip. You really did end up getting what you wanted in the end.

As you near the surface, you glance up at him, finding his expression calm and focused. For a moment, you can’t help but admire him, the quiet power he carries, the elegance in every movement.

He lands softly on the ground above, setting you down gently before stepping back. “There. Far less effort than climbing, wouldn’t you agree?”

You let out a breathless laugh, smoothing your clothes. “I suppose I’ll give you that. Thank you, Adrian.”

His name on your lips makes him pause briefly, his gaze softening. “Anytime,” he replies quietly, his voice almost a whisper.

Chapter Text

The days passed in a steady rhythm, each one blending seamlessly into the next. To some, routine might have felt dull or stifling, but with Alucard, it was comforting. It gave you a sense of stability, a quiet assurance that you were exactly where you were meant to be.

Mornings began with breakfast, usually something simple made from foraged ingredients or preserved supplies. Afterward, the two of you would venture out to gather food and materials, ensuring the castle remained stocked with necessities. The afternoons were spent on repairs, both in the castle and within the Belmont Hold.

One of the biggest improvements had been the pulley system you and Alucard built, a mechanism designed to lower and raise you both into the depths of the hold with ease. Alucard had designed it himself, using counterweights, ropes, and gears to balance the lift’s movement. He had tried to explain the mechanics to you, his voice patient yet amused as you struggled to grasp the finer details. In the end, you had simply shrugged and accepted your role as part of the muscle that helped assemble his creation.

It had been just over a week since you arrived at Castle Dracula—no, Castle Alucard. Or was it Castle Alucard and… Y/N? The thought crept into your mind before you could stop it, sending a sudden flush of heat to your cheeks. It made everything feel more real, more tangible in a way that sent your heart into an uneasy rhythm.

Shaking off the thought, you approached the lift, the wooden platform dipping slightly beneath your weight as you stepped onto it. Crouching down, you untied the thick rope anchoring it to the surface, feeling the gentle lurch as the lift began its slow descent. You hummed softly to yourself, the quiet tune filling the stillness of the underground passage.

You didn’t bother lowering the safety rail. Alucard was always insistent about using it, but since he wasn’t here to scold you, you ignored it. The lift creaked as it lowered into the depths, the counterweight rock rising smoothly to the surface, just as Alucard had designed.

When the platform reached the bottom with a soft thud, you stepped off, securing the latch bolted to the floor. The metal clicked into place as you locked it down, ensuring the lift wouldn’t move until someone used it again. Satisfied, you dusted off your hands and turned toward the hold.

Repairs were nearly complete. The damage from the battle nearly two weeks ago had been manageable, and between you and Alucard, the space was beginning to feel less like a ruined relic and more like a functioning archive once again. Now, all that remained was reorganizing the displaced artifacts and texts, ensuring everything was back in its rightful place.

You moved through the vast underground chamber with ease, your fingers trailing along the spines of ancient tomes as you scanned the shelves. But there was another reason you had chosen to be down here today.

Trevor had once told you stories when you were little. Rumors of a secret study hidden somewhere within the Belmont Hold, a place filled with knowledge far beyond what was stored in the open archives. You had always thought it was just a story, a bit of exaggerated family lore meant to keep a young Belmont curious.

But what if it wasn’t?

Growing up, you had always wondered where your father would disappear for hours at a time. He had always been a man of many secrets, and maybe, just maybe, uncovering this lost study would bring you closer to answers. Answers about the Belmonts. About the elves. About your mother.

Keeping the thought tucked away for now, you focused on the task at hand, sorting through the last of the displaced artifacts. As you worked, you couldn’t help but wonder why some of the more questionable objects had been carefully cataloged and preserved by the Belmonts who had come before you. What purpose had they seen in keeping them?

You had long since stumbled across the infamous box of penis spells that Sypha had mentioned weeks before, feeling a deep sense of revulsion at the thought of one of your forefathers entertaining such a thing. What practical use could a book like that have possibly served? You shuddered at the implications and shoved it onto the top shelf where it belonged, preferably never to be touched again.

Then there was also that jar of cyclops dung that you had found. Why? Just why? You couldn’t even begin to rationalize the reason behind that one. Maybe it had some strange alchemical properties? Or maybe one of your ancestors had just been a collector of the grotesque. That theory seemed even more plausible when you picked up a glass container, finding yourself staring at a pickled vampire head suspended in that brown, murky liquid.

“Okay, definitely a collector of the grotesque,” you muttered under your breath, setting the head back down with a grimace and nudging the jar just slightly so its cloudy glare wasn’t facing you directly.

As you moved through the dimly lit chamber, you found your gaze wandering to the stone walls more frequently, curiosity getting the better of you. If the hidden study was real, it had to be concealed somewhere within these depths. And if Belmonts were anything, they were predictable in their love for secrets and secret compartments.

Still, despite the oddities, your mind wandered back to the real reason you were down here. Your eyes kept flicking to the walls, to the shelves, the very structure of the hold itself. You had casually tested a few theories. Pulling on old books by the spine, pressing at stones that looked just a little too smooth. If there was a secret door, you were going to find it.

And if Alucard found you yanking random books off the shelves like a lunatic, he was never going to let you live it down.

That was when you felt it, a familiar presence just a few shelves away. A warmth that curled around you even through the cool air of the hold.

“Are you just going to stand there and watch me?” you asked, not bothering to turn around.

A soft chuckle broke the quiet, followed by the gentle sound of footsteps as he approached. “I was rather enjoying the sight of you searching for something you aren’t even sure exists.”

You sighed, finally facing him. “You think it’s just a myth?”

Alucard crossed his arms, golden eyes glinting with quiet amusement. “From what you’ve mentioned, I think Belmonts have a habit of turning every old room into a grand mystery.”

You huffed, placing a hand on your hip. “And yet, here you are, watching me do it.”

His smirk deepened slightly, and he stepped closer, his hand nearly brushing against yours, “That’s because you make even foolish endeavors look rather—” His gaze flickered downward as if searching for the right word, before returning to meet your eyes. “—charming.”

You felt heat creep up your neck, but rolled your eyes nonetheless. “Flattery isn’t going to stop me from looking.”

He hummed, tilting his head. “Then allow me to make a suggestion.” He extended a hand toward the farthest wall. “If there is a hidden entrance, it wouldn’t be in plain sight.”

You followed his gaze, eyes narrowing slightly. If there was a hidden entrance, it wouldn’t be something as obvious as pulling a book. No, the Belmonts were smarter than that.

“You also didn’t use the safety rail,” Alucard mentioned, his voice taking on a more chiding tone. 

You suck in a breath and then sigh, not even bothering to defend yourself, easily conceding to the blonde, “Yeah, I should’ve. Sorry about that.”

You didn’t see the need for it, in all honesty. The two of you were the only ones who used the lift, and Alucard could fly for god’s sake. But you told yourself he only cared for your safety, which made you even more flustered on the inside.

Alucard approached slowly, his expression soft as he took your hand in his. “I just worry,” he admitted, giving your fingers a gentle squeeze. Then, after a beat, his lips quirk into something more playful. “By the way, there’s something in the castle that I found. I’d like to show you.”

You arched a brow, curiosity piqued. “That depends. Is it more cyclops dung?”

A breath of laughter escaped him. “I promise, it’s far more interesting than that.”

He didn’t elaborate, only tugged your hand lightly, leading you back toward the lift. Whatever he had found, he was eager to show you. And knowing Alucard, it was bound to be something worth seeing.

He had released your hand when approaching the lift, allowing you to step on before untying the latch that held it to the floor. Just as the lift began to rise, Alucard stepped on and shut the safety latch behind him, but not without a sassy side glance at you.

As the lift creaked and ascended, you kept sneaking glances at Alucard, trying to piece together what had him so intrigued. He was composed as always, but there was something in the way his fingers tapped absently against the wooden rail of the lift, an unconscious tell that he was deep in thought.

“So, are you going to tell me what this mystery thing is, or do I have to keep guessing?” you asked, leaning slightly against the railing.

Alucard smirked, golden eyes flickering to you. “It’s something my father built.”

That certainly caught your attention. You straightened, brows raising in realization. “I forgot the man was an inventor before he tried to commit human genocide.”

Alucard looked to this side, hiding his expression, “Surprising, isn’t it? He was more than… The man you knew. My mother had a way of drawing out different sides of him. He built it for her.”

The lift reached the top, and the warmth of the sun was satisfying on your skin..Alucard opened the latch, stepping off first before offering you a hand. You took it without thinking, his grip cool and steady as he helped you up. He didn’t release your hand right away, thumb brushing against the back of it for the briefest moment before he finally let go.

He led you back into the castle, taking you to a part of it you hadn’t explored much. The air felt different here, lighter, almost. It lacked the heavy, oppressive feeling that some of the grander halls carried. It was warm in a way that had nothing to do with temperature.

“This was my mother’s study,” Alucard said, his voice quieter now. He pushed open the heavy wooden doors, revealing a room that was untouched by time. It was smaller than you expected but filled with warmth. Bookshelves lined the walls, overflowing with texts on medicine, science, and languages. A large desk sat near the center, still adorned with aged parchment and an inkwell long dried.

But what caught your attention was the strange contraption sitting on a nearby table.

You blinked. “What… is that?”

Alucard glanced at you, amusement flickering in his expression. “It’s a phonograph.”

You stared at him, waiting for further explanation, the words holding no meaning to you.

He sighed, shaking his head. “It plays music.”

Your eyes widened slightly, stepping closer to inspect it. “You mean, like a bard in a box?”

That startled a laugh out of him, a rare, genuine sound that made your heart do an embarrassing little flip. “Something like that.”

He moved to the phonograph, carefully winding the crank before setting the needle in place. A faint crackle filled the room, and then, music. A soft melody drifted through the air, filling the space with the sounds of a lute, flutes, and other instruments you recognized.

You watched the machine, transfixed. “That’s… incredible.”

Alucard turned to you then, hesitation clear in his features. He shifted, glancing at the floor, then back at you, his fingers twitching slightly at his sides. “Would you… dance with me?”

Your head whipped towards him in an instant, breath caught in your throat. You and Alucard had never done anything like this before, never breached the boundary of what was spoken and unspoken between you.

You hesitated, not out of reluctance, but out of sheer nervousness. “—um… I don’t really know how.”

Alucard smiled then, soft and reassuring. He extended a hand toward you, golden eyes warm. “Then let me teach you.”

Alucard’s grip was gentle yet firm as he guided you closer, his touch light but grounding.

To distract yourself, you spout off the first thing in your mind, “How does this thing work?”

His golden eyes flickered with amusement at your question, though there was an unmistakable warmth behind them.

“The phonograph works by using a needle to trace the grooves on a rotating cylinder,” he explained, his voice smooth, though there was a slight hitch in his breath as your hand settled on his shoulder. “As the cylinder spins, the vibrations are amplified through the horn, producing sound.”

You nodded, though your focus was barely on his words. His hand rested on your waist, the pressure just enough to make your breath falter as you slowly swayed with him in the center of the room. He was being careful, deliberate, as if he felt the same way you were feeling.

“So… It's magic,” you teased, attempting to cover your nervousness with humor.

Alucard huffed a quiet laugh, his fingers tightening ever so slightly against the fabric of your clothing. “If that makes it easier to understand, then yes, magic.”

The music swelled, filling the study with its soft tune, as Alucard began to move. He guided you with slow, measured steps, his movements effortless, as if he had done this countless times before. You, on the other hand, were painfully aware of how clumsy your feet felt, how your body seemed to move just half a second too late.

“You’re tense,” he murmured, tilting his head slightly as he observed you. “Relax. Just follow my lead.”

Easy for him to say. His presence alone had you feeling like a string pulled too tight.

Still, you forced yourself to loosen up, allowing him to guide you through the unfamiliar steps. After a few moments, the movements became easier, more natural. You could feel the subtle strength in the way he held you, how effortlessly he supported you, ensuring you never misstepped.

“Where did you learn to dance?” you asked, your voice quieter than before.

His expression softened. “My mother taught me when I was young.”

You swallowed, suddenly feeling the weight of what this meant to him. This wasn’t just a dance. This was a piece of his past, of his mother, of a world that had been lost.

And now, he was sharing it with you.

Alucard’s fingers curled slightly at your waist, his other hand steady in yours as he guided you with effortless grace. The music became little more than a distant hum, drowned out by the steady pounding of your heart. Your steps, once hesitant, now flowed in perfect rhythm with his lighter, more natural, as if you had been meant to dance with him all along.

“I’ve never felt…” Your voice was barely above a whisper, the words catching in your throat as you met his gaze. “I’ve never felt this comfortable with anyone before.”

Something flickered in his golden eyes. His grip shifted, his fingers pressing just a little more firmly against your waist as if to steady himself, as if your words had unraveled something in him.

Neither of you had ever truly belonged anywhere. Half-human, half something else, bound by the blood of creatures you never asked to be part of. You had spent your life searching for a place to fit, and yet, here, in his arms, it felt like you finally had.

Alucard’s lips parted slightly, as if he wanted to say something, but instead, he lifted your hand and spun you beneath his arm, the movement fluid and seamless. The scene of Lisa’s office was a blur as he spun you once on your heel, the candlelight cast warm shadows that danced along with you.

When he pulled you back in, his hand found your waist once more, this time firmer, holding you closer than before. His breath was warm against your temple, his golden hair brushing against your cheek as he murmured, “Neither have I.”

The words sent a shiver down your spine.

Your hands clung to him instinctively, your heart thudding against your ribs as realization settled between you. This was more than a dance. More than lingering glances and hesitant touches.

The admission lingered between you, heavy yet delicate, like the final note of a song waiting to fade.

Alucard didn’t let go. If anything, his grip only tightened, his fingers now pressing more firmly against the small of your back as if afraid you might slip away. 

Your breath hitched as he tilted his head ever so slightly, his yellowed eyes searching yours for something, permission, perhaps, or simply reassurance that this was real. That you were real.

The phonograph crackled, the record’s melody drifting into silence as it finished playing, yet neither of you moved.

Then, hesitantly, almost cautiously, Alucard lifted a hand from your waist, brushing a loose strand of hair away from your face. His touch was featherlight, reverent, as though he wasn’t sure if he was allowed to do this. To touch, to want, to have.

“Is this… alright?” His voice was quiet, uncertain in a way you had never heard him sound before.

You nodded, your throat too tight for words, but that was all he needed.

Alucard exhaled, almost as if he had been holding his breath, before lowering his forehead to rest gently against yours. His fingers traced slow, deliberate patterns along your back through your blouse, as if committing the feel of you to memory.

A quiet laugh, breathless and uncertain, escaped you. “I didn’t think a dance would end like this.”

Alucard let out a soft hum, his lips curving into the faintest of smiles. His thumb brushed absently over your knuckles, and then, with a final moment of hesitation, he lifted his gaze, golden eyes dark with something unreadable. His hand leaves yours to tilt your chin ever so slightly, just enough to close the remaining space between you.

And then, finally—finally, he kissed you.

The kiss was slow, deliberate, almost as if he was afraid you might vanish the moment his lips touched yours. But you didn’t. You leaned in, your fingers tightening against the fabric of his tunic as warmth spread from your chest to every inch of your body. It wasn’t desperate, nor hurried, it was a quiet, unspoken promise.

Alucard pulled back only slightly, just enough for his forehead to rest against yours once more. His breath was unsteady, golden eyes half-lidded as he searched your face for any sign of regret, of doubt. But there was none. Only you, looking at him like he was something worth holding on to.

A small smile curved at his lips, and he finally spoke, voice barely above a whisper. "I've wanted to do that for quite some time."

Your heart skipped, your grip on his shirt tightening slightly. "Me too," you admitted, barely recognizing the sound of your voice. “It… It doesn’t have to be the last time.”

His expression softened, his hand trailing slowly from your back down to your wrist before he finally, reluctantly, stepped back, though not far. As if any distance between you now felt foreign.

"There’s something else," he murmured, his tone shifting to something more thoughtful. "Something I wanted to tell you tonight."

You tilted your head, still caught in the moment. "What is it?"

Alucard hesitated, as if weighing his words, before he finally exhaled. "My mother’s study… This room, all of it, I want you to have it."

You blinked, taking a moment to process what he had just said. "What?"

A small, almost sheepish smile touched his lips. "You spend so much time between the hold and the castle, and I know you love discovering things, learning, working with your hands… This place, it's filled with everything she left behind, and I can think of no one more suited to make use of it than you."

You looked around, truly seeing the room in a different light. It was warm, filled with Lisa's presence, so unlike the rest of Dracula’s castle. The books, the desk, the carefully arranged notes, it was a place of knowledge, of healing. And now… he was giving it to you.

"Adrian…" Your throat tightened, emotions rushing too quickly for you to put them into words. "Are you sure?"

His fingers brushed against yours again, grounding, steady. "I am."

For a moment, you couldn't say anything. The weight of his gift, of his trust, settled deep within your chest. He had given you a piece of himself, something that had once belonged to the most important person in his life. And now, he was letting you in.

You swallowed past the lump in your throat, squeezing his hand before whispering, "Thank you."

Alucard smiled, his thumb brushing gently over the back of your hand. "Come. I’ll show you everything she left behind."

Chapter Text

The afternoon sun hung low in the sky, casting golden hues across the ruined stones and overgrown paths of the old Belmont grounds. You walked slowly, the silence only broken by the gentle rustling of leaves, the twigs crunching under your boots, and the distant caw of birds. The skeleton of your childhood home stood as a quiet monument to a life that no longer was, charred beams, broken stone, and memory clinging to every surface. But the tree just left of the estate still stood tall. Gnarled, worn, but impossibly alive. Your breath caught softly at the sight. It had weathered storms, fire, and time itself, just like you.

It was just as you remembered it, the bark worn smooth in places where you used to climb, the roots still spreading out like an open hand. It regarded you with a kind warmth, welcoming you back to a place where you had felt joy all those years ago. A smile tugged at your lips as you approached, crouching low by its base. You had a feeling… a gut memory.

You dug into the earth with trembling fingers, the damp soil giving way with each stroke until your knuckles tapped something solid. You stilled. Carefully, reverently, you unearthed the small wooden box tucked beneath the roots. The corners were softened by time, but it remained intact. Dusting it off, your heart fluttered as you opened the lid.

Opening it, you found a few small trinkets, two hand-stitched dolls, a wooden toy sword, and a few colorful stones that once seemed magical in your eyes. And then… your old diary. The cover was cracked and faded, the pages inside stained and curled with age.

You sat on the ground, your back against the tree, as you flipped through with a growing smile. Pages filled with doodles and crooked handwriting brought memories flooding back, but one particular entry caught your eye.

“I hope I meet a prince,” You read aloud, “Not just any prince. A handsome one. Tall and kind. He’ll love me so much he’ll want to marry me, and we’ll eat birthday cake forever. I want him to bring me flowers and call me pretty even if I’m not. I hope he finds me before I turn ten.”

There was a rough crayon drawing of your nine-year-old self beside a dashing, if poorly drawn, golden-haired prince. He even had a cape. And a crooked birthday cake in his hand. You looked at the date, realizing your birthday wasn’t too far away.

You groaned softly and clapped the diary shut, cheeks burning as you rested your head against the tree. “God… That’s embarrassing,” you muttered.

And yet, your heart stirred. That prince… the one your younger self had dreamed of, maybe he wasn’t so imaginary after all.

Still, you dusted off the box with a fond smile and carried it back to the castle, your castle now. The towering spires of Dracula’s old keep now belonged to you and Alucard. A strange thought, but a comforting one. You slipped inside, passing through the warm stone corridors until you reached the library. You set the box gently on one of the side tables, deciding to go through it more thoroughly after helping Alucard finish the day’s chores.

After scrubbing down one of the older halls and helping Alucard finish repairs he hadn’t gotten to in the west wing, you wandered into Lisa’s old study, now under your ownership. A space once belonging to a woman known for her wisdom, kindness, and bravery. A space Alucard had gifted to you.

The room still smelled faintly of old parchment and dried herbs. The golden afternoon light filtered through the tall windows, spilling across the stone floor like warm honey. Your gaze drifted to the far corner by the phonograph, the very place where you and Alucard had shared your first kiss two days earlier.

And the second one… in the kitchen, while you were laughing over a burnt dinner attempt.

The third… in the Hold, after you distracted yourself reading an ancient text, and he leaned in without thinking.

The fourth… that quiet, lingering kiss at your bedroom door. A soft goodnight before he left for his room.

They had been new, but not awkward. Sweet, but not rushed. It was like something dormant between you both had finally begun to grow, the blossom longing to bloom.

You let out a small sigh, your eyes drifting to the tall windows. The sun had dipped lower now, its golden light turning amber as it spilled across the stone floor of your study. Shadows had begun to stretch long and slow across the room, and the warmth of the afternoon was giving way to the hush of evening.

It struck you then, you hadn’t seen Alucard in some time. He hadn’t come by during the repairs, nor appeared while you cleaned Lisa’s old study. A smile crept onto your lips at the thought of him. Maybe he was in the library? The memory of where you'd left the wooden box returned to you all at once.

The diary.

Your heart gave a sharp flutter.

You straightened, boot heels skidding the floor as you turned toward the door, your pace quickening through the corridor. The thought of him finding your childhood scribblings, a prince with blonde hair and that damned birthday cake, your desperate nine-year-old hopes, made heat rush to your cheeks.

“Please no,” you begged silently, half-running now. “Please don't let him have read it.”

You reached the library with a breath caught in your throat. The box still sat on the side table, right where you had left it.

But the diary was gone.

Your heart sank. You rifled through the contents; dolls, stones, toy sword, but no cracked, leather-bound journal.

“No, no, no,” you murmured, hands trembling as you clutched the edge of the table. “Gods, please—”

“I was wondering when you'd come looking for this.”

You froze.

His voice was warm. Smooth. Unhurried.

You turned slowly, dread pooling deep in your belly.

There he stood, leaning in the doorway with one hand resting lightly against the frame, the small diary in his other hand. His golden hair was catching the last of the sunlight, casting a soft halo around him, and that maddeningly gentle smile played at his lips.

“You had... a very vivid imagination,” Alucard teased, stepping into the room. 

He flipped open the diary and read, voice teasing in a near-sing-song tone, “‘He’ll love me so much he’ll want to marry me, and we’ll eat birthday cake forever.’”

Your hands flew to your face. “You read it?” you groaned.

“I couldn’t help myself,” he said, coming closer, tone both amused and affectionate. “You left it out in the open, after all. Practically an invitation.”

You wanted to melt into the floor. Or throw yourself into the lake, anything to stop the burn on your face.

Alucard stopped in front of you, closing the diary gently. His eyes, distant, weary in the past, were warm now, full of a quiet fondness. 

“You know,” he murmured, holding the little book between you, “for what it’s worth… your prince in this diary has very good taste.”

You peeked through your fingers, still mortified. “He had a cape, Alucard.”

He chuckled. “I do have one, on occasion. If my coat counts.”

You gave him a flat look, but he only chuckled, a warmth in his features.

You tried to hold onto your embarrassment and annoyance, but it was no use. A laugh slipped through, quiet and helpless.

He tilted his head, his voice dropping softer as he stepped closer, “It was sweet. Innocent. It made me wish I had known you then.”

You lowered your hands at last, watching him with a tender ache blooming in your chest as you shook your head with a quiet laugh, “I was a strange little girl. With dreams I could only believe would come true.”

“I would’ve liked her,” he said simply, placing the diary back onto the table. “But I care for the woman before me now even more so.”

The library fell quiet again, the silence filled with something deep and unspoken. He reached for your hands gently, asking, and you gave them to him without hesitation. His fingers laced through yours, warm and sure.

“Come,” he murmured, “before the sun disappears completely. I want to walk the grounds with you.”

And with your heart still pounding, you went.

He led you gently down the corridor, his hand never once letting go of yours as you passed through the aging stone halls. The last of the light streamed in through narrow windows, dancing across his golden hair, catching on his cheekbones. He looked like something out of a dream, just as your younger self had imagined, though you could never have known how kind his hands would feel, or how steady his presence would become.

But instead of taking you outside, he surprised you by turning into the kitchen.

You blinked. “I thought we were going outside?”

“We are,” he said, his voice low with a trace of nervousness. “But… there’s something I’d like to show you first.”

The kitchen was warm, the hearth still glowing dimly from earlier use. The scent of baked fruit lingered in the air, rich, spiced, and just slightly sweet. Alucard moved toward the long wooden counter where a small cloth had been draped over something.

He hesitated for only a moment before pulling the cloth back.

There, arranged carefully on a worn ceramic plate, were several small tarts. Their crusts were golden and slightly uneven, and each one was filled with combinations of your favorite fruits; dried figs, roasted hazelnuts, a hint of honey, and tart, dark berries. A simple offering, but beautiful in its own right.

“I know it isn’t cake,” he said quickly, glancing sideways at you. “Sugar is rare out here. I couldn’t make anything grand… and I wasn’t sure you’d want me to try. I just remembered what you wrote about birthday cake. And, well. I wanted you to have something sweet.”

You stared at the little tarts, your throat suddenly tight.

He continued, a little more quietly, “They’re not perfect. I’ve never tried this before. But they’re yours.”

You stepped closer, unable to stop the smile that bloomed on your face. The tarts weren’t fancy, no, they were better. Thoughtful, handmade, and filled with care. You could see how much effort he had poured into them, how closely he must have paid attention to what you liked, how hard he tried to make something meaningful.

You looked up at him, your heart full. “They’re perfect.”

A quiet breath of relief left him, and a shy smile touched his lips, rare and soft.

You reached for one of the tarts, taking a bite. The crust flaked just right, the filling warm and rich, and it hit you like a wave, how loved you felt.

“This is the best birthday I’ve ever had,” you said softly, setting the tart back onto its plate.

He may have peeked at your diary against your wishes, but that beat the years of birthdays you had spent alone after Trevor had gone off the deep end. The way your stepmother didn’t acknowledge it in your childhood, but the small gifts from your brother and rare affections from your father had sweetened it just so.

Alucard looked at you with such deep affection in his resplendent eyes, “Happy birthday,” he murmured, his fingers coming up to brush a crumb from your lips and cradle your cheek.

Then, without a word more, he leaned in and kissed you, slow and tender, tasting of warmth and honey and all the things you'd never dared to wish for.

The kiss began soft, gentle, and familiar, like the others you'd shared before. His lips brushed yours with the same careful reverence he always held for you, as though he feared breaking something delicate. You leaned into it easily, tasting the faint sweetness of fruit and honey that lingered between you.

But then, something shifted.

Maybe it was the way you sighed against him, or the way your fingers found the front of his shirt and held on just a little tighter. Maybe it was the way he tilted his head, drawn in by the taste of berries and warmth on your tongue, or the way you opened just slightly beneath him, welcoming more.

The kiss deepened, slow, searching. Not rushed, but no longer innocent. There was heat now, gentle but growing, something long repressed beginning to bloom between you.

Alucard’s other arm eased around your waist, drawing you closer until there was no space between you, until the scent of warm pastry and pine gave way to the racing of your heart and the heat blooming in your chest.

His mouth was warm, his kiss careful but wanting, as if afraid to take too much, but begging not to stop. You answered in kind, your hands finding his shoulders, your body pressing into his as the heat swirled and gathered between you both. His mouth parted against yours, and when your tongues brushed, it sent a jolt straight through you. He tasted like you now, honey and berries, a spark of intoxication and desire in your stomach.

When he finally pulled back, it was with visible reluctance. His golden eyes searched yours, his breath slightly uneven, though a small, teasing smile tugged at his lips.

“You taste like honey,” he murmured, voice low and hot. “And like something I’ll never get enough of.”

Your heart fluttered in your chest, and your cheeks burned, but you didn’t look away.

“Then I suppose you’ll just have to kiss me again,” you whispered.

And oh, the smile that lit his face, half bashful, half adoring.

He kissed you again, a softer, shorter kiss this time, affectionate and warm, like sealing a promise. When he drew away, your fingers gently brushed his chest, your heart still fluttering from the last few moments.

You looked at him through your lashes, then reached for the half-eaten tart you’d left on the plate.

“Want a bite?” you asked, holding it up toward him with a teasing little smile, “It’s really good.”

Alucard raised an eyebrow, his eyes glinting with quiet amusement as he leaned closer, his voice dipping just slightly. “I’ve already tasted it.”

Your breath caught, the words hitting a little deeper than expected, and judging by the smirk tugging at his lips, he knew exactly what he was doing.

Still, he leaned in and took a bite anyway, his lips brushing your fingers as he did. He chewed thoughtfully, a little smile playing at the corners of his mouth.

“Mmm,” he murmured, swallowing. “Still good enough on its own, I suppose.”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help the laugh that escaped you, the warmth and tension between you two wrapping tighter around your chest like a ribbon pulled taut.

“You’re impossible,” you muttered.

“And yet,” he said with a gentle tilt of his head, “You keep feeding me.” 

He says, taking another bite of the tart with a teasing expression.

Later that evening, the castle had grown quiet, save for the distant hum of wind beyond its high windows. Dinner had been a cozy affair, simple, warm food shared between two people growing closer with each passing day. The laughter, the casual brushes of hands, the soft glances exchanged over the rim of cups, all of it lingered in the air like the scent of the herbs still simmering in the hearth.

As you stood by the hall leading to your room, Alucard stepped closer, brushing a lock of hair behind your ear with gentle fingers. “Goodnight, Y/N,” he murmured, pressing a soft, familiar kiss to your lips. It was sweet and slow, like a promise.

“Goodnight,” you whispered back, your fingers trailing against his for just a moment longer before parting.

You retreated to your room, changing into your nightgown and tending to your quiet rituals, brushing out your hair, washing your face in the basin, lighting a small candle by the bedside to give the room a dim glow. The night was peaceful, warm with the events from today, and you slipped beneath the sheets. With soft rustling of fabric, you sigh as your tired body finds rest.

But peace didn’t last.

Sleep came, but it carried with it a cruel weight, the kind you’d come to dread.

It began with the smoke. It always began with smoke.

Heavy, black, and clinging to your lungs. You coughed, stumbled, and found yourself back in that hellish corridor of your childhood home. Flames licked at the tapestries, and the stone walls glowed red with heat. Screams echoed, sharp, panicked, familiar. You turned, shouting for your father.

No answer.

The floor cracked beneath your feet, and suddenly you were running. 

Trevor’s boyish voice rang out from somewhere behind you, urging you to move. “Y/N! Keep going!”

You tripped on splintered wood, heart hammering, breath ragged. Where was he? Where was your father?

You looked back, saw the silhouette in the flames. His face… You couldn’t see it, but you could hear him scream. Was it his pride that made him stay? Did he give himself to the flames? Or… had the church taken him? Killed him?

You didn’t know.

“Fa-Father! I’m s-sorry!” A child’s voice came out of you, your voice that you almost couldn’t recognize anymore

The fire roared around you. You couldn’t breathe. The heat singed your skin, and every sound was too much, the crackling flames, the cries of servants dying, Trevor yelling for you again.

Too loud. Too bright. Too much.

Every nerve in your body screamed with it. Panic clawed up your throat, choking you.

And then—

You shot up in bed with a choked cry, your scream ripping through the quiet night like a blade through silk. Your hands flew to your neck, fingers trembling and grasping at your skin as if trying to tear away the suffocating memory. Your breath came in shallow, ragged gasps, chest heaving. Tears blurred your vision, spilling down your cheeks without restraint.

It was always like this.

That fire. That night. That unbearable sense of helplessness. Every time it came back, it left you drowning.

The door burst open, the sound echoing sharply in the stone room. Alucard was there in an instant, his golden hair disheveled, eyes wide with panic, and sleep shirt slipping from one shoulder. He crossed the room in a breath and was at your side in the next, “Y/N!”

“I’m here, I’m here…” he said, voice low and desperate as he reached for you. “It’s alright. You’re safe. I’ve got you.”

His arms slipped around you with no hesitation, cradling you as you trembled violently against him, your fingers twisting into his nightclothes for something to hold. You could feel your sobs break open fully as he held you to his chest, one hand tangling in your hair, the other gently stroking down your back. The weight of him beside you, the warmth of his body, and the quiet, repetitive motion of his hand brushing your hair were the only things anchoring you to the present.

You weren't used to dealing with these nightmares with someone else. The last time you could remember was when you had lived with Trevor years ago.

Your body trembled in his arms as he held you close, the world around you narrowing to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat and the feel of his hands anchoring you to the present.

“I-It was the fire again,” you whispered, your voice broken and thin, barely audible against the curve of his shoulder. “From the night the estate burned. I was ten… I still hear it. The screaming. The heat... I can feel it on my skin like it’s real.” Your breath hitched. “I saw my father in the flames… just out of reach. He didn’t say anything, he just, he just stood there, burning. I don’t know if he… stayed behind to die, or if the church killed him. I never got to see him again. I never even saw a body.”

Alucard’s hand stilled on your back for a moment before sliding to cup the back of your head. “Y/N,” he murmured, so softly it ached. “I’m so sorry…”

You pressed your face harder into his chest, fingers clinging to the fabric of his nightshirt. “I have this dream all the time. I hate it. It always comes back when I finally start to feel like okay. Like I’m safe.”

His arms tightened protectively around you. “You are safe. Here. With me.”

There was a long pause before he spoke again, quieter now, almost reverent.

“I have them too… nightmares.” He shifted, his chin brushing the crown of your head, “Of my mother. Of the night they took her. I wasn’t there when they burned her. But… I see it in my dreams. I see her on the stake, screaming in agony. Her eyes are always begging me to do something. To move. To save her. And I’m just… frozen. I can’t turn away. I can’t move. I just watch.”

His voice was thick with sorrow, haunted and hollow in the silence that followed. You looked up at him slowly, your face streaked with tears.

“She was kind,” you whispered, your thumb brushing softly over the fabric at his shoulder. “She didn’t deserve that.”

His voice caught in his throat for a moment, and you felt the tremble in his chest where your head rested.

“We both lost everything in a fire,” he murmured. “And we could do nothing to stop it.”

You still look him in the eye, your tear-stained face to look at him, eyes glassy. “Does it ever stop hurting?”

Alucard looked down at you, brushing your damp cheek with his knuckles. “I don’t think the pain goes away,” he said quietly. “But… It’s easier to bear when someone’s there to wake you from it.”

You stared at him for a long, quiet moment. And then your forehead pressed to his chest, your hands loosening their grip only to slide around his back. You breathed him in, warm, alive, here.

“Stay with me tonight?” you asked quietly, your voice still raw.

“I’m not going anywhere,” he said, voice steady now, no hesitation.

He shifted beside you in the bed, laying back and pulling you into his chest once more, cradling your head beneath his chin as his hand found yours beneath the blanket. Fingers intertwined, warm and grounding. You could still feel the echo of the fire, but it no longer burned quite as cruelly. Not with him there.

The night deepened around the stone walls of the castle, but in your room, time seemed to stretch and still, held gently between quiet breaths and the warmth of Alucard’s arms. His presence wrapped around you like a balm, steady and silent, anchoring you with the comforting weight of his embrace.

You didn’t fall asleep right away. Instead, the two of you lay there in the hush, your fingers brushing over the back of his hand, his thumb occasionally stroking across your knuckles. The silence wasn’t uncomfortable, it was full, intimate. A shared stillness between two people who carried pain too old for their years. You could see the way, his golden eyes catch the faint moonlight spilling in through the high window, making your heart thump.

Eventually, your breathing slowed. Your body eased, no longer locked in panic. But your mind drifted, soft, dreamlike.

“Adrian…” you murmured, voice small in the dark.

He hummed a reply, his lips brushing the top of your head. “Mm?”

“I’m sorry I woke you,” you said, voice still hoarse.

“Don’t be,” he replied instantly, brushing his thumb along your bare shoulder revealed by your neckline. “I’d rather be here holding you than sleeping through your pain.”

A beat passed.

“I think in the back of my mind, I was waiting…” you whispered. “For someone to understand. Not try to fix it, ignore it, just… see me. All of it.”

He drew your hand to his lips and kissed your knuckles.

“I see you, Y/N.”

Your breath caught at that. Not because of the words, but because of how easy they came from him, how real they felt. You turned slightly toward him under the covers, propping your chin against his chest.

“I see you too,” you replied, softer than before. “And I care for you more than I know how to say.”

He smiled faintly, brushing a strand of hair from your face.

“Then don’t say it,” he said. “Just stay with me.”

So you did. You leaned up and kissed him, just a brush of lips, tender and lingering. When you pulled away, his gaze followed yours with such gentleness it made your chest ache all over again.

Eventually, the warmth and exhaustion returned to your limbs, the weight of sleep calling you back like a tide.

You drifted off not long after that, your fingers still laced in his, your breathing warm against the hollow of his throat. Alucard remained awake a little longer, holding you protectively, his long locks fanned across the pillow. For once, the castle felt quiet in a way that wasn’t lonely. It felt… right.

And when the dreams returned, this time, they didn’t burn. They shimmered. Shimmered with laughter and golden hair

In the morning, he would still be there beside you, his arm tucked around your waist, your legs tangled together in the sheets. And for the first time in years, you would wake up not with fear, but with peace. With love, even if it hadn’t yet been said out loud.

But maybe soon.

Very soon.

Chapter Text

The following days unfolded with a slow-burning intensity, an undercurrent of desire neither of you dared to express fully, yet neither of you could ignore. Since that nightmare, you had begun sharing the same bed with Alucard, a quiet understanding born out of comfort and safety. But sleeping beside him each night brought with it its kind of temptation, and the longer you remained close beneath warm sheets, the harder it became to pretend restraint was enough.

You both intended to let things unfold naturally, to savor the tenderness and trust between you. But want had a way of slipping in, soft at first, then impossible to deny.

It didn’t take much. The way his arms flexed when he stirred the pot for dinner, the way his hair glinted in the candlelight when he leaned over a book, the gentle way he guided you when you sparred, how he treated a cut on your finger when it would probably be healed by nightfall. Then there were the things you hadn’t meant to see—or hear. A soft noise came through the cracked door of one of the spare bedrooms. Your name shakily left his lips, ragged and low. The flush that followed stayed with you long after. And the book, left open on the back table of the library, its pages filled with sketches of erotic positions… You didn’t need to guess what had inspired that curiosity.

But it wasn’t just you.

He noticed you, too. Every time your blouse slipped lower than it should, revealing the faint swell of your chest. Every time you stretched, laughed, and leaned in close. The way your hips swayed when you walked. Everything about you left a mark on him. You could feel it in his eyes, the tension between his words. His restraint was thinning.

Now, you stood just outside the castle, the grass soft beneath your boots as you circled one another on the field. Sparring had become routine. A way to stay sharp, you told yourselves. But you both knew there was more to it than that.

You cracked your whip against the ground with a sharp snap, your grin playful, challenging.

Alucard moved slowly across from you, golden eyes watching your every movement. His shirt was loose at the collar, wind tugging at his pale hair. That smirk at the edge of his lips, it was amusement, yes… but there was something heavier in it. Something deeper.

The space between you thrummed with tension. Not the kind born of conflict, but the kind that waited, coiled tight, just beneath the skin.

You hadn’t crossed that line yet, but you were dancing closer to it with every breath.

"You think you have what it takes to take down a Belmont?" You tease, forming a sword made out of light energy in your hand. The sword was warm in your fingertips, thrumming with energy begging to be released. 

Alucard’s brows arched, amused by your boldness, but there was a glint in his eye, equal parts challenge and something far more heated.

He tilted his head, that golden hair catching the light as he stepped closer into your circle, boots silent against the grass. “Is that what you think this is?” he asked, his voice like silk dragged through honey. “I’m not here to take you down, Y/N…”

He summoned his sword to float from its sheath, a soft hum of magic, the edge catching the sunlight like a shard of moonlight. The air between you shimmered faintly with the pulse of your powers.

“…I’m here to test just how long you can hold out.”

His smirk widened, the playful provocation slipping beneath your skin like a blade with no edge. Tension, already thick, twisted tighter. You could feel the weight of his stare drifting from your eyes to your parted lips, then lower to the way your stance shifted, ready, but not defensive. Waiting.

You twirled the hilt of your glowing blade with a cocky smile, feigning confidence despite the sudden spike in your pulse. “Careful, Adrian,” you warned, your voice teasing, “Flirting in the middle of battle might get you hurt.”

He stepped forward, slow and deliberate as he held out his hand, his sword slipping into his grip. “Then I’ll just have to take the hit.”

And with that, the duel began, your blades clashing with a bright crack as both of you rushed forward with incredible speed, magic crackling through the air. But this wasn’t just sparring anymore. This was foreplay in the guise of battle. Every strike, every dodge, every near-miss carried more than adrenaline.

It carried anticipation.

The sparring intensified, your blades humming with energy as they met in a dazzling burst of light and force. You moved quickly, a blur of muscle and magic, your whip tossed and forgotten in favor of the glowing blade in your hands. Alucard matched you step for step, his movements precise and fluid, like a trained dancer.

You ducked a swing, spun low, and swept your leg at his feet, but he perceived it. In a blink, he pivoted around your attack, floating in the air, and grabbed your wrist mid-swing, and used your momentum to pull you off balance. The world tilted sharply.

You let out a surprised gasp as you hit the ground, soft grass cushioning your fall, but before you could even move, Alucard was already on top of you. His hand pinned your wrist gently against the earth, his chest brushing against yours as he hovered just above with his knees digging into the earth, strands of his golden hair falling like silk around your face.

For a moment, everything stopped.

His golden eyes were locked on yours, gaze intense, hungry, and impossibly soft all at once.

“You know…” he said, his voice low, reverent, “Your eyes… they glow when you use your magic.”

Your breath caught.

“They do?” you asked, stunned by the revelation. No one had ever told you that before.

He nodded, his thumb brushing faintly across your cheek. “Like starlight caught in a storm. It’s beautiful.”

The words lingered in the air, heavy with more than just admiration.

Neither of you moved, his body warm above yours, his face just inches from your own. You could feel every heartbeat, every shallow breath between you. One of his knees had settled between your thighs, and the closeness was overwhelming in the best possible way.

Your voice came out quieter than you expected. “You’re not playing fair… You flew.”

He smiled, the kind of smile that made your chest ache. “Neither are you… I can hardly think straight, just looking at you.”

And before either of you could talk yourselves out of it, his lips captured yours in a kiss that was anything but soft.

Alucard’s lips moved hungrily against yours, his body pressing just slightly heavier against you. You felt his hand slide to the side of your face, cradling it so gently, like you were something fragile and sacred. Your own fingers had tangled in the collar of his shirt, pulling him closer when the kiss deepened. Hotter, more desperate.

And then your breath caught. A soft, involuntary moan escaped your throat.

That single sound changed everything.

Alucard stilled above you. His lips paused against yours, and the tension between you fractured into something different, uncertain, flickering. He hesitated, pulling back only slightly. His eyes searched yours, and for a moment, you saw the raw want still lingering there. His cheeks were flushed pink, lips parted as if still tasting you.

But then his expression faltered.

“I—” he breathed, glancing away. His hand pulled from your cheek, shifting to push himself up. “Y/N, I… I shouldn’t.”

Your heart fluttered in confusion as he sat back on his knees beside you, brushing his hair behind his ear in a nervous motion. “I just remembered,” he said, fumbling quickly for words, “We… we’re low on parsnips. I should go gather a few before the sun sets. For stew. Tonight.”

You blinked, breath still catching in your chest as the warmth of his body faded from above you. “Adrian…?”

He stood quickly, brushing off his trousers and not quite meeting your eyes. “I won’t be long. Just around the stream bend,” he added. “There are wild carrots there, too. Maybe leeks.”

You sat up slowly, brushing grass from your tunic, suddenly aware of the wild beating of your heart and the drying kiss still tingling on your lips.

“Okay…” you murmured, trying to steady your voice as he walked a bit too briskly toward the treeline.

As soon as he was gone, the stillness settled around you like fog.

And that’s when the thoughts crept in.

Did I do something wrong?
Did I scare him off?
Gods… was my breath awful?
Was that too much? Too soon?

You pulled your knees to your chest, hugging them close, the sting of embarrassment beginning to rise. The memory of the kiss should’ve warmed you, but instead, it left you feeling small and unsure.

He’d wanted it. You were sure of that. You felt it in every way his body reacted. But now? You didn’t know what to make of his sudden retreat. You’d never been through this kind of moment before. There were no rules, no guide, just your racing heart and the lingering doubt.

You let out a long sigh and lay back in the grass, covering your face with your arm as the clouds above drifted slowly by. Maybe he just needed time. Maybe you did too.

Still… it didn’t stop the ache of not knowing what he was thinking.

You stayed there for a long time in the grass, watching the clouds drift above you in lazy silence, their edges glowing faintly with the deep gold of late afternoon. You should have gone after him, asked him what was wrong, told him what you were feeling, but the words stuck behind your teeth like stones. You were ready, weren’t you? Ready to love him the way lovers do. Not just in gentle touches and sweet kisses, but in the way your body longed to know his.

You wanted to give that part of yourself to him, not out of obligation or impulse, but because he was the one. You knew it as surely as you knew your own name. You loved him—God, you loved him. So much that it stole the breath from your lungs and made your chest ache like a wound that wouldn’t heal.

But telling him? That was harder. Because once it was said, it would be real. And real things could break.

The wind whispered against your cheek, soft as a sigh. You closed your eyes for a moment, heart heavy with the weight of what hadn’t been spoken, of everything you didn’t know how to do.

Would he still want you when you told him the truth? You were afraid? That you didn’t know what to do next?

Eventually, you sat up with a tired breath, brushing bits of grass from your clothes. The sun was beginning its descent now, the gold deepening to amber as long shadows crept over the landscape. You had stared at the sky for too long, waiting for a sign that never came.

So you stood, stretching stiff limbs, and quietly made your way back inside the castle. The stone walls felt cooler now, the fading warmth of the day retreating into memory. Your boots echoed softly against the floors as you walked through the halls, but the silence pressed in differently now.

The halls of the castle stretched long and empty as you wandered, each footstep echoing faintly against the ancient stone. Your thoughts drifted to Trevor, as they often did when your emotions stirred too deeply. Gods, what would he say if he saw you now? Pining, uncertain, so painfully vulnerable over a man who wasn’t even fully human, but neither were you.

He’d probably tease you at first. Call you a lovesick pup or some ridiculous nickname to rile you up. But behind the jokes, you knew he’d worry. He always did, in his gruff way. Especially after everything with your father… after the fire… after he left.

You’d grown so used to people leaving that part of you couldn’t help but wonder… What if Adrian does too? What if this tenderness, this closeness, was only a moment before the silence?

That thought alone made your chest twist. You hated feeling like this. Scared. Open. But more than anything, you hated how much you loved him. How completely, how hopelessly. He was the first person who made you feel seen, not as a Belmont, not as a burden, but as yourself. 

You weren’t paying attention to where your feet had taken you until you looked up and realized the heavy wooden door had creaked open. You hesitated at the threshold.

This was no ordinary room.

You stepped inside quietly.

The space was dim and still, the air tinged with dust and something faintly metallic—ash, perhaps. The ceiling curved overhead like a dome, painted with constellations that still shimmered softly, starlight caught forever in paint. But your eyes were drawn not to the heavens, but to the floor.

The purple rug in the center of the room was charred at the edges, the burn spiraling out from the place where Dracula had fallen. You knew what had happened here; this was where Alucard had ended it. Where he had driven a stake through the father who once held him. The father who nearly destroyed the world.

Your heart clenched.

Near the edge of the burned rug, on a burnt hole in the fabric, sat a glint of metal. Dracula’s wedding ring. Untouched. Unmoved. Left exactly where it had fallen.

You crossed the room slowly, your footsteps soft against the wooden floor. There was debris scattered in the corners, shattered glass, splinters, a broken chair, but it was nothing time couldn’t fix. What couldn’t be repaired was the pain that had taken root here.

You stood at the center of the singed rug and looked down, imagining it all: the struggle, the heartbreak, the silence that must have followed. A father and son torn apart by grief, by rage, by love twisted too far.

Alucard had ended it.

You swallowed against the lump in your throat. For all Dracula had done, everything you had fought against, the nearly fatal blow you’d suffered in that last battle, you still felt a deep ache for him. For both of them. For what had been lost in this room.

In the middle of Alucard’s childhood bedroom, was where a family had truly ended.

This wasn’t just where Dracula had died.

This was where Alucard had suffered one of the greatest wounds of his life.

You sank slowly to the floor beside the rug, your hand brushing gently against a patch of the singed fabric. The burnt threads curled slightly beneath your fingers. Your gaze lifted to the wedding ring still resting against the floor. A simple golden band, nothing ornate. Worn, but not forgotten, yet still missing its pair.

Your voice came out barely above a whisper. “I’m sorry.”

Sorry for what had to be done. Sorry for how it ended. Sorry that love alone hadn’t been enough to stop it.

As you sat there, in the silence of grief and memory, your heart ached, not just for yourself, or Alucard, or even for the little boy who had grown up in this very room. For the man who had once been a father, and for the tragedy that turned him into a monster.

Tears welled in your eyes before you could stop them. They came slowly at first, then faster, hot streaks down your cheeks as you knelt beside the singed rug, your breath catching in your throat.

You weren’t just crying for Alucard.

You were crying for your father, too.

For the man who raised you in the shadow of the Belmont name, strict and proud and painfully distant. For the man who taught you to hunt monsters, but never once said he was proud of you, only showing you affection at a second thought. For the man who’d died in the fire that stole your home, and maybe… Maybe chose to burn rather than run.

Twisted love. That was what you carried for him.

Love tangled in duty. Disdain rooted in disappointment.

And Trevor. God, Trevor. He was all you had left of that bloodline. And he was off somewhere with Sypha, probably slaying monsters and being an idiot with the buzz of liquor in his brain. You missed him. You resented him. You loved him. And you were so tired of feeling alone, even when you weren’t.

Your fingers tightened on the rug as you tried to will the tears to stop, but they kept coming. It was the quiet that did it, you thought. The silence in this room wasn’t empty, but full. Full of grief. Of memory. Of something too heavy for words. You brought your knees up and rested your arms across them, lowering your forehead as your shoulders trembled. A soft sob escaped your lips before you could swallow it down, and then another. You hated crying like this. Hated the vulnerability of it. But sitting here, in this place where Alucard had lost everything, it was too much to hold in.

You pressed your palms to your eyes, trying to stop the tears, but they came anyway, hot and aching. For Alucard. For his loss. Your loss. For the fear clinging to your ribs like vines. For the love building inside you, overwhelming and terrifying in equal measure.

It wasn’t just this room. Not just the heaviness of what had happened here. It was everything. The silence. The hesitation. The feeling that maybe you were too much. Or not enough.

You’d come so close to giving yourself to him earlier. The way his lips had moved against yours, the way he shuddered at your touch. You wanted him desperately, but when he pulled away and left for the woods, it was like all the fear you thought you’d buried had come roaring back.

Maybe he didn’t want you like that. Maybe he was just being kind.

Your chest gave a soft hitch as you hugged your arms tighter around yourself. What if he leaves, too? Like Trevor? Like your father? Everyone you loved had a way of disappearing. 

You didn’t hear the door open, only the soft creak of its hinges and the quiet footsteps behind you.

He didn’t say anything at first.

Just like you hadn’t, that day you found him broken and crumpled in the shadow of his father’s study weeks ago. You had only sat with him then, offering presence in place of answers.

Now, it was his turn.

Alucard knelt beside you, his golden hair falling forward slightly, tousled by the wind from his woodland journey outside. He reached out slowly, as if unsure if you’d pull away, but you didn’t. His hand pressed gently to your back.

“Y/N,” he said softly, voice barely a whisper.

You turned toward him, your eyes shimmering with tears, your chest rising with the ragged pull of breath. You didn’t know how to explain it, not all at once. So you didn’t try. You just whispered, “It’s so much. All of it. This room, you, everything you and I have been through.”

He nodded, wordless but understanding.

“I don’t know how to be what you need,” you choked, your voice breaking. “I’m scared you’ll leave. That I’m not enough. Trevor left. My father died. Everyone I love ends up gone. And now we’re... we’re close, and I don’t know how to be with you, Adrian. I don’t know how to not be afraid of losing you.”

You looked away, wiping hastily at your cheeks. “You pulled away earlier, and I thought… I thought maybe you didn’t want me like I wanted you. Or maybe I did something wrong, and I—” You faltered, unable to finish.

Alucard’s expression was stricken, his brows drawing together as he cupped your face gently between both hands. “Y/N,” he said again, more firmly this time. “I pulled away because I didn’t want to rush you. Not because I don’t want you. I do. God, I do. But I don’t want to if you’re not absolutely sure.”

You blinked up at him, tears still slipping down your cheeks, your lip trembling. His thumbs brushed them away gently, reverently.

“I was afraid, too,” he confessed, voice low and aching. “Afraid I’d ruin this. That I’d hurt you. I’ve never… I’ve never done this before. Not any of it.”

A pause as he looked at the scorches on the floor. Then he looked at you again, eyes full of softness, sorrow, and love.

“I don’t want to just be your first,” he said, voice quiet but steady. “I want to be your only. I want to earn that.”

You let out a shaky breath, and with it came a soft, broken laugh as you touched his hand that was on your cheek. “You already have.”

The silence between you was thick but no longer heavy. You leaned into him, resting your forehead against his, and he exhaled slowly, the tension in his frame melting into your closeness.

The air between you both settled like stardust, fragile and glowing in the fading evening light that filtered through the broken window. You leaned into Alucard’s touch, your forehead pressed against his, feeling his breath ghost across your skin. His hands were still on your cheeks, thumbs brushing gently over the damp trails your tears had left behind, his golden eyes searching yours as if afraid to blink and miss a single heartbeat of this moment.

You swallowed the lump in your throat, but your voice was still small and trembling when you finally spoke, “I love you, Adrian.”

The words slipped out like a secret, gentle, aching, scared, but once they were free, you knew they were true. You had never said those words to anyone before. Not like this. Not with your entire soul trembling on the line. But you said them anyway.

“I love you,” you repeated, firmer this time. “I’ve been holding it in, too afraid to say it, but I can’t keep pretending that I don’t feel it. I love you, Adrian. I love you so much it hurts.”

For a moment, he was still. His breath caught in his throat, eyes wide, stunned, but not in fear. In awe.

Then he pulled you into him, arms wrapping around you so tightly, so protectively, that it felt like the pieces of your heart finally found a place to rest. He buried his face into the crook of your neck, his voice a breathless whisper against your skin.

“I love you, too,” he said, the words reverent. “I’ve been waiting for the right time… but I’ve loved you longer than I’ve known how to say it.”

You clung to each other like the world might fall apart if you let go.

And just beyond the tangle of limbs and confessions, the scorched rug remained. The singed mark at its center, the place where Dracula had burned, still lingered, but it no longer felt like a wound. It felt like a memorial.

A single ring glinted faintly, Dracula’s wedding band, long since untouched. It lay in solemn witness, not to a death, but to something being born.
Love. Slow, shy, imperfect… but real.

A small breeze stirred through the broken window, brushing your hair as you remained wrapped in each other’s arms. There was no urgency in this embrace. No pressure. No fear of what would come next. Just the comfort of knowing that you weren’t alone in your grief, in your hope, in your love.

You were seen. Chosen. Held.

And this time, you knew he wouldn’t leave.

Chapter Text

Dinner was quiet yet warm, a stark contrast to the storm of emotions you had just weathered together. Alucard prepared a stew from what he’d gathered earlier in the day, the earthy sweetness of the parsnips mingling with tender cuts of meat, carrots, and herbs he’d clipped from the forgotten garden that clung stubbornly to the edges of the old Belmont grounds. The broth was rich, fragrant with thyme and garlic, a simple meal that wrapped itself around your bones and reminded you of a campfire. He ladled it carefully into bowls, the steam curling between you as you sat across from each other at the dark paneled kitchen table.

You hadn’t realized how hungry you were until the first spoonful touched your tongue, warmth flooding your chest. Alucard ate with a kind of quiet grace, his long fingers cradling the spoon, his golden eyes lifting now and then to meet yours in the candlelight.

After the bowls were empty, after the warmth of the stew had eased into your limbs, the two of you drifted to the library. The room smelled faintly of old parchment and polished wood, candles flickering in sconces across the stone walls. You sank into one of the velvet couches, its cushions swallowing you into comfort, and Alucard joined you, settling close enough that the brush of his thigh against yours sent little sparks darting up your spine.

You leaned into him naturally, your head finding the space against his shoulder as though it had always belonged there. A book on elven architecture rested in your hands, its pages intricate with sketches of spires and arches, while his was some dense tome bound in cracked leather that sat open in his lap. His arm draped along the back of the couch, his hand resting lightly on your thigh, innocent at first, comforting.

But your closeness, your warmth pressed against his side, your scent, soft, grounding, intoxicating, was undoing him. His fingers flexed minutely against your thigh, and he shifted in his seat, the sofa creaking faintly beneath his weight. He tried to focus on the words swimming on the page before him, but his body betrayed him, heat stirring low and insistent, his trousers tightening with a hunger that made his chest ache.

Alucard adjusted slightly, angling his hips away as though it would help, but the truth was inescapable: the desire for you was insatiable, clawing at the edges of his restraint. And with you pressed so close, obliviously absorbed in your book, every breath, every heartbeat made it harder to keep that restraint at all.

“Tell me, Y/N,” he murmured, his voice dipping into something huskier than he intended, “What do you think about elven architecture? Is it as fascinating as I’ve heard?”

He was trying, desperate, to redirect himself, to keep the moment grounded in something safe. Yet his eyes betrayed him, flickering down to where the moonlight kissed your collarbone, to the soft rise of your chest beneath the loose neckline of your tunic. The sight stole his breath, every inch of him warring between restraint and longing.

His hand stayed on your leg, thumb sweeping slow, unconscious circles into your thigh. He told himself it was nothing, an innocent caress. But deep inside, it was everything. He wanted you, all of you, in a way that bordered on unbearable. And knowing you wanted him, too, only sharpened the hunger until it felt like fire in his veins.

You tilted your head, still nestled against his shoulder, and set your book aside. Your lips curved into a small, wistful smile. “I wish I could see it,” you whispered, your voice soft in the hush of the library. “Rather than just reading. I hardly know anything of my elven heritage.”

Alucard’s heart ached at the melancholy in your voice. He wanted nothing more than to help you uncover that part of yourself, to see your wonder awaken as you touched the roots of your lineage.

“We can find a way,” he promised, his hand sliding higher to your hip, tracing delicate shapes through the fabric of your trousers. “There may be artifacts here, or old texts forgotten in the castle’s vaults. Pieces of your heritage waiting to be found.”

His touch lingered, heat rising between you, and his voice dropped lower. “But for now,” he whispered, his lips brushing the shell of your ear, “Let me distract you with something else.”

You shivered, breath catching as he turned to face you fully. His other hand rose to cradle your cheek, fingers gentle, reverent. His lips hovered just above yours, a fragile space holding the tension of all that had gone unsaid.

Your eyes flicked to his mouth, then up to meet his gaze, a soft smile curving your lips. Slowly, you leaned in, closing the distance. The kiss bloomed warm and certain, deepening as you pressed closer, your hands coming to rest against his chest. Beneath your fingers, his linen tunic shifted with the rise and fall of his breath, and you felt the steady thunder of his heartbeat pounding through.

Alucard’s heart leapt as you leaned in, your lips brushing against his in a kiss that stole the air from his lungs. The moment they met, soft, warm, and trembling with need, it was as if a spark ignited deep inside him, spreading fast, threatening to consume you both. He kissed you back with quiet urgency, his hands moving over yours where they rested against his chest, holding them there as though grounding himself in the reality of your touch.

As your kiss deepened, his restraint faltered. Slowly, carefully, he shifted, guiding you back against the velvet cushions until you lay beneath him. His knees bracketed your hips, the weight of his body pressing close, but not crushing, protective, reverent. His lips claimed yours again, deeper this time, and you gasped softly when his tongue brushed against yours, the intimacy startling yet intoxicating.

His hands trembled as they explored, following the curve of your waist, pausing at the gentle swell of your hips before sweeping upward. Each touch was hesitant, almost questioning, as though he needed your permission with every motion. His fingers skimmed along your collarbone, lingering in awe of the delicate lines of your body.

The heat between you was unbearable. He felt his erection pressing against you, insistent, shamefully obvious. But even so, through his flushed embarrassment, he forced himself to be slow and gentle because this mattered. Because you mattered.

Breaking the kiss, Alucard lowered his lips to your jaw, then your throat, tracing a tender, unhurried path. Each kiss left your skin tingling, your soft sighs and quiet moans making his heart race even faster. His golden hair brushed against your cheek as he moved lower, and without thinking, your fingers tangled in his silken strands, holding him close.

“Adrian…” your voice wavered, breathless, your cheeks flushed with heat. You tightened your grip in his hair, pulling him back just enough to meet your eyes. “Wh-what are you doing?”

Your question trembled with innocence, not resistance, but curiosity and uncertainty, the same uncertainty mirrored in his own flushed face.

Alucard froze, every muscle in his body going taut at the tremor in your voice. His breath caught as he lifted his head, golden eyes searching yours, the desire there now tangled with worry. Slowly, he drew back just enough to see your face clearly, his hand brushing tenderly along your cheek.

“My apologies, Y/N,” he murmured, voice quiet, almost pained. “I let myself get carried away. I never wanted to make you uneasy.”

He shifted, easing himself upright but still close, unwilling to sever the warmth of your nearness entirely. His heart thundered in his chest, torn between the memory of your kiss and the gnawing fear that he had pushed too far.

“We don’t have to do anything you’re not ready for,” he added gently, his tone steady, soothing. “We can take this as slowly as you need. I only want you to feel safe with me.”

But even as he said it, his gaze betrayed him. It flicked down to your lips, lingering there, remembering the softness, the taste of you. The hunger still burned low and constant, but he forced it back, focusing instead on the delicate rise and fall of your breath, on the warmth of your skin beneath his fingertips.

You pushed yourself upright as well, eyes wide and glistening. Your fingers twisted in your lap, nervous and uncertain. “W-wait,” you stammered, your cheeks flaming. “It’s not that I don’t want to. I do. I just… I-I don’t know how to…” Your voice faltered, dropping to a whisper. “How to have sex.”

The words hung in the air between you, raw in their honesty. You weren’t naïve; you knew what the word meant, what the basics entailed, but not the intimacy of it. Not the mechanics, not the tenderness or vulnerability it demanded. No one had ever told you. Not your parents, taken too soon. Not Trevor, who had been too wrapped up in drink and his own mistakes.

You shifted, embarrassed, the admission heavy on your tongue. But it was the truth, and you could only pray Alucard wouldn’t think less of you for it.

Alucard studied you for a long moment, the faint blush staining your cheeks, the nervous gleam in your eyes. His chest ached, seeing the innocence you carried, the fragility beneath the strength you typically showed. How could he fault you for not knowing? He, too, had never known intimacy like this.

Yet as he looked at you, heart pounding, he realized that your shared inexperience was not a weakness. It was a gift, a chance to discover one another slowly, to stumble, to learn, to grow together.

“We can learn together,” he said at last, his voice gentle, almost reverent. “It may be unfamiliar, but that only makes it ours. Something special between us, untouched by anyone else.”

He reached for your hand, his fingers weaving through yours with tentative care. “If you’ll allow me,” he promised softly, “I’ll be patient. Kind. I’ll cherish you, Y/N, and show you that this… this can be beautiful. That your pleasure will matter as much as mine.”

His heart swelled at the thought of exploring this with you, not as a fleeting indulgence, but as a vow of love, set fire to his chest. Slowly, reverently, he bent and pressed a kiss to your forehead as the wheels turned in your head. It was chaste, but brimming with affection, a seal of his intent.

“What do you say?” he whispered, his breath brushing your skin. “Shall we take this step?”

You nodded, shy but certain, lifting your gaze to him with a look that stole his breath. “I’m ready… just tell me what I need to do.”

Alucard exhaled shakily, the tension in him breaking into a tender smile. His eyes flicked briefly to the velvet couch beneath you, then back to your face. “Not here,” he murmured with a faint, almost embarrassed laugh.

“Perhaps,” he murmured, brushing a lock of hair from your face, “it would be best if we began somewhere more… comfortable.” His thumb stroked gently along your cheek. “The bed, Y/N. Where I can hold you properly.”

You felt heat rise in your cheeks, but you didn’t disagree. As his fingers laced more securely with yours, he helped you rise from the couch, the weight of the moment settling between you like a fragile promise.

With each step toward your bedroom, your heart pounded harder. You had fought monsters, faced fire, survived grief, but this… this was different. This was giving him not just your body, but your heart, your trust, your everything.

“We’ll take it slow,” Alucard promised, his voice a low murmur against the hush of the hall you walked in. He pressed a kiss to your temple, feather-light yet grounding, his breath warm against your skin. “And we’ll stop at any time if either of us wishes. Do you understand?”

You nodded, though your heart was already hammering so loudly in your chest that you wondered if he could hear it. Every step you took toward the bedroom seemed to echo with meaning, with finality. It wasn’t just stone floors beneath your boots; it was the sound of crossing a threshold you’d never return from.

Inside, the room felt different tonight. Warmer, fuller, as if the castle itself was holding its breath. The flicker of candlelight painted soft gold across the carved headboard, across the drapery that framed the bed like a sacred place.

Alucard guided you gently, his touch steady on your arms, until you sat at the edge of the bed. The mattress dipped beneath you, your palms flattening against the quilt for balance as your eyes darted up to meet his. He stood tall before you, his hands resting lightly on your shoulders, his gaze both tender and intent.

“Before we begin,” he said softly, every word deliberate, as though he feared they might shatter if spoken too quickly, “I want you to know that you are cherished. Your body, your heart, your very being… all of it is precious to me.”

The confession nearly undid you. No one had ever spoken of you that way, not your father, not Trevor. Not anyone. Something inside you trembled, and tears threatened at the corners of your eyes, though you blinked them back, desperate not to ruin this moment with your weakness.

He leaned in, lips brushing yours in a slow, reverent kiss, the kind that made you feel like something rare and holy. When he drew back, the absence of his mouth left your skin tingling. 

“Now,” he whispered, his voice velvet-smooth, “Let’s start by getting comfortable. Would you like me to help you undress?”

Your throat felt tight, but you nodded, hands lifting with hesitant determination to the buttons of your brown vest. They were simple fastenings, you’d undone them countless times before, but now, under his gaze, they felt impossibly complicated. Your fingers fumbled, catching awkwardly against the thread, until a nervous giggle escaped your lips.

“Ah… sorry,” you muttered, cheeks warm with a blush that crept toward your ears. You dared a glance upward and found his golden eyes steady on you, softened with patience, not judgment.

“It’s alright,” he murmured, his hands joining yours. He began unfastening the lower buttons of your vest with graceful precision, his long fingers careful not to brush more of your skin than necessary.

You watched him, marveling at the gentleness in someone who held such power. Normally, you were fluid and confident, precise with a whip in your hand and sure-footed in battle. But with Alucard, or Adrian, you would rather find yourself flustered, unsteady in a way that felt both terrifying and exhilarating.

With careful, deliberate movements, Alucard began to undo the worn brass buttons of your vest. His long fingers worked deftly and gently as he worked. As the vest fell open, he spread it apart, revealing the simple white blouse underneath. He noticed how it clung to your figure, making his mouth dry at the sight.

"You're beautiful, Y/N," he murmured, his eyes drinking in the sight of you, "Absolutely stunning." Alucard's hands moved to the ties of your blouse, his fingers brushing against the soft skin of your chest as he worked. He took his time, savoring each new patch of flesh that was revealed. 

You kicked off your boots as he worked, face painted red with flush. You shrug your blouse off when he has finished untying it, slightly tousling your hair in the process. This revealed the fabric bandeau that secured your breasts in place. No man had ever seen your breasts before, and the thought of Alucard seeing you so bare sent your heart into a frenzy.

Alucard paused, his fingers hovering just above the fabric bandeau that secured your chest. He could see the rapid rise and fall of your chest, the blush spreading across your cheeks. His own breath caught in his throat, the reality of the moment hitting him.

With the utmost care, Alucard slowly untied the bandeau, letting it fall away. He drank in the sight of your bare bosom, his heart swelling with desire and affection.

"You are exquisite," he breathed, his hands gently cupping your breasts. "So soft, so perfect..."

Alucard leaned down, his lips brushing against one rosy nipple. He flicked his tongue over it, feeling your sharp intake of breath. Encouraged, he continued his ministrations, alternating between your breasts, lavishing each with attention.

His shy hands roamed your body, learning the contours of your ribs, the dip of your waist, the flare of your hips. Alucard reveled in the feel of your skin beneath his fingertips, the way you trembled with each caress.

You bit your lip at the feeling of his tongue and feathery soft lips across your chest, stifling the gasp that nearly escaped your throat. His fingers caressing the daintiest skin of your body made you shiver, parts of your body that scarcely saw the sun, let alone a man’s touch.

"Yeah... That feels good," You whisper, encouraging him verbally as if he couldn’t tell by your body’s involuntary reactions.

Alucard continued his gentle explorations, his lips and tongue painting a path of fire across your skin. His hands slid down your sides, fingers skimming over your hips before coming to rest at the waistband of your trousers. Alucard hesitated.

"Y/N," he murmured, his golden eyes meeting yours. "May I remove these? I promise to be gentle."

At your nod, Alucard carefully peeled the brown fabric trousers down your legs, revealing the simple cotton briefs beneath. He marveled at the smoothness of your skin, the delicate curve of your thighs. He found scars he had not seen before, freckles and moles that made you infinitely special in his gaze.

He sat on the ground in front of you as he guided the fabric down past your ankles and heels, your eyes pinned to his form as he worked carefully. Unable to resist, he leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to the inside of your knee where a scar lingered. His fingers trailed upward, ghosting over the sensitive skin of your inner thighs, stopping just short of your core.

"You are a vision, my love," he breathed, his voice husky with desire. "A goddess in the flesh."

Alucard's hands came to rest on your hips as he moved to stand to his feet, thumbs rubbing soothing circles into the soft flesh. He drank in the sight of you sitting on the bed, spread out before him like an offering, trusting and vulnerable.

You shudder at the touch, shifting on the bed so you were leaning towards him with a grin on your lips. "Your turn... I'm not going to be the only naked one here." You tease before your fingers move to the hem of his thin white tunic, slowly pulling it up.

Alucard grinned at your boldness, raising his arms and allowing you to pull his tunic over his head. His trim, muscular chest was revealed, the long pink scar by his father’s hand standing out starkly against his pale skin.

Your fingers traced the scar gently, causing him to shudder and suck a breath of air through his teeth. "Does it hurt?" You asked softly, pulling your hand back as you looked into his eyes. 

You were scared that you had hurt him until his hand covered yours, bringing it to his chest. "No," Alucard assured you, "It's just a reminder of the past. Of the pain and loss that brought me to you."

You smile at him, trying to hold back your tears at his words, fingers gently rubbing against the tight pink flesh of his scar.

You lean in carefully, pressing soft kisses against the scar. "You've fought so hard, so fiercely... You've truly done so much." You whisper against his skin, looking up at him with an affectionate green glint in your eye.

Alucard sighs breathily as your lips brush against his scar, your tender touch igniting a fire within him. He closed his eyes as if he was savoring the feel of the warmth of your breath, the softness of your lips.

“I could not have done it alone…” He starts, his eyes opening as his whispers curled around you, “You gave me the strength to confront my past, to reclaim my future."

Alucard's hands moved to cup your face, his thumbs brushing over your cheeks. "You have given me a reason to live, to hope, to love again."

He leaned in, capturing your lips in a searing kiss. His tongue delved into your mouth, exploring, claiming, cherishing. It was as if Alucard had poured all of his passion, his gratitude, his devotion into that kiss, hoping you could feel the depth of his emotions.

You felt it, conveying your reciprocation by returning his fiery kiss as your fingers slide down his chest and rub against his sides. Your body relaxed against him, the soft tissue of your breasts pressing against his chest.

Alucard’s hands slid down your back, fingers splaying across the small of your back, pulling you closer. He broke the kiss, trailing his lustful lips down your jaw, your neck, pausing to nip at the sensitive spot just below your ear. You shivered in his arms, a soft moan escaping your lips.

"Y/N," he breathed against the skin of your neck, his voice rough with need. "You drive me mad with wanting you."

His fingers found the hem of your briefs, teasing the fabric with feather-light touches. "May I remove these?" he asked, his golden eyes dark with lust as he moved to stare at you directly.

“Yes,” You whispered, leaning back on the bed to allow him to pull off the hindering fabric. 

You eye him, feeling nervous but excited for what was to come. Alucard gently tugged your panties down your legs, revealing the most intimate parts of your body. His eyes were glued to you. Your skin glowed in the candlelight, almost like you were an angel sent down for him to cherish and adore.

You saw his eyes flicker as he looked at your naked body, his gaze turning up to your face. His expression was soft, yet firm.

"I will do my best to please you, to bring you joy and satisfaction. But I may make mistakes, and if I do, I beg your forgiveness in advance." Alucard's cheeks flushed at the admission, a rare show of vulnerability from the usually stoic dhampir. 

Alucard leaned in, crawling over you on the bed and pressing a soft kiss to your lips, a promise of things to come.

You return his gentle kiss, pulling away with a smile on your lips, "You do not have to apologize... Both of us seem to be learning how to live now that we have the time to." Your hand lifts to caress his hair, looking into his eyes sweetly.

You remembered back to the few times you pleasured yourself, a small flush on your cheeks at the shy thought, "I... I think I may know where you can start, though."

Alucard leaned into your caress, "Together, then," he murmured, his voice low and husky. "We will learn and grow, experience all the joys and pleasures this life has to offer."

"Show me," he breathed, his hands sliding down your sides to rest on your hips. "Guide me, my love. I am yours to command."

You take his hand, guiding it slowly down your stomach and over your womanhood, "Here…," you whisper, your breath hitching slightly when his fingers gently rub against your damp slit. 

"I'm sure you're familiar with the anatomy... But I shall remind you," You guide his fingers upward, his fingers now pressing against your clitoris. You suck a breath of air through your teeth, your face heating up in slight embarrassment.

"It's beautiful," he whispered, his voice reverent. "You are beautiful.”

Slowly, tentatively, he began to move his fingers, applying gentle pressure in a circular motion, following your lead and advice.

"Is this okay?" he asked, his golden eyes seeking yours. "Am I doing this right?"

You nod, a gasp escaping your lips before you could answer. All the times you had touched yourself could never compare to this. His touch alone almost had you careening over the edge, feeling hot and a familiar coil growing tighter in your stomach.

"Y-yes... Not too hard... Just... Like that," You breathed, your hand moving to rub against his thigh, your fingers touching the fabric of his trousers.

Alucard kept up the gentle circling motions with his fingers, seemingly satisfied at the soft gasps and moans that fell from your lips.

Emboldened by your pleasure, Alucard leaned down, capturing one rosy nipple in his mouth. He flicked his tongue over the sensitive peak, drawing out a sharp cry from you. His free hand roamed your body as his other hand continued to stimulate you between your legs.

You could feel Alucard lightly grinding against your hand on his pants, seeking more of your touch. He groaned around your nipple, the sound vibrating through your body.

Your eyes flutter as you succumb to the stimulation, feeling his tongue laving over the pebbled bud of your nipple. You didn't expect that, your core burning hotter and hotter. You could feel yourself getting close to your orgasm already. Your hips buck against his hand, the sensations almost too intense for you to handle. "Wh-When I get like this I-I..."

With a gasp, you hit your high unexpectedly quickly, orgasm pulling moans and whines from you, "A-Adrian! Mmh!"

Your body tensed and relaxed, soft breaths leaving your lips. He kittenishly licked your nipple, fingers gently working you through overstimulation. As your orgasm subsided, he released your nipple with a soft pop, sitting back to admire the beautiful sight of you in the aftermath of ecstasy. Your chest heaved, skin flushed and gleaming with a light sheen of sweat. 

"You are stunning," Alucard murmured, his voice gravely in sound, "Watching you come undone, hearing my name on your lips... it is the greatest gift I could ever receive."

He leaned in, pressing soft kisses to your tender neck, collarbone, and jaw. His hands roamed your body, soothing and caressing, basking in the warmth of your skin.

"And now," he whispered against your ear, his breath hot on your sensitive flesh, "I believe you know what happens next?"

Alucard's golden eyes met yours, filled with love and hunger. 

You catch your breath, giving him a soft nod as you prop yourself up on the bed, watching him step back off the bed and unbuckle his belt, "I've... Never exploded like that before... The feeling was almost unbearable... Ah, in a good way, of course." You say with a shy smile, feeling a bit abashed at the simplicity of your words.

Alucard’s nimble fingers worked to pull his belt from the belt straps of his pants. His eyes never leaving yours, as if he was drinking you in like the finest wine he had tasted.

"I am honored to be the first to give you such pleasure," he murmured, his voice low and husky, "And I intend to be the only one."

Alucard soon undid the buttons and laces on his lower half, letting his trousers and undergarments fall to the floor, revealing his arousal. Alucard's face flushed slightly at the exposure, his usual stoicism giving way to vulnerability.

He was of a sizable length and girth, your face feeling hot at the sight of your first penis. Protruding from a small thatch of golden curls, it was a pretty pink color, the head a throbbing, rosy color.

"I have never... shared myself with another like this," he admitted, his golden eyes meeting yours. "I am trusting you with my heart, my body, my very being…."

He settled back onto the bed, pulling you into his arms, naked skin pressed together, electric and warm. Alucard's hand found your hip, his fingers tracing idle patterns on your soft flesh, “...And I would have it no other way.”

The dhampir pressed a gentle kiss to your temple before resting his forehead against yours, his breath mingling with yours. "Are you ready?" he whispered, his voice thick with anticipation, but his eyes were full of affection.

Pushing down your nervous doubts, you press a kiss to Alucard's cheek, hand coming up to stroke his hair and trail down his smooth chest, "I wouldn't want to do this with anyone else."

"Nor I," he whispered, his golden eyes dark with desire and an all-consuming love, "You are my heart, my soul, my everything."

Alucard shifted, positioning himself between your thighs and his hands propping himself up on either side of you.. He slowly, carefully began to press forward, the head of his member nudging against your entrance.

"Tell me if I hurt you," he murmured, his voice strained with the effort of holding back, of going slow. "I want this to be perfect for you."

After you took a breath, your hand lifted to rest against his shoulder, squeezing it. Alucard gave you a gentle thrust of his hips, pushing the tip of his cock forward and breaching you.

"Y-Y/N," he breathed, his forehead falling to rest against yours as your breath hitched at the intrusion.

Alucard began to move, his hips rocking in a slow, irregular rhythm. You watched his handsome face as he concentrated. Alucard’s eyebrows were furrowed, lashes fanned over his cheeks as he closed his eyes. Lips parted as quiet groans left his lips, showing the tips of his fangs. 

You could tell it was hard for him to stay focused; the effect you had on him was almost too much. Despite the slight pain from him stretching you, you felt your ego boosted at the sight of his struggle to keep it together.

"You feel incredible," he panted, his hands curling into the bedsheets. "So warm... So perfect."

Alucard was careful with his movements, your arms curling around his shoulders and fingers digging into his back. "Mnh... Keep... G-Going..."

Alucard let out a breathy groan as he nodded, beginning to move with more purpose, his hips rocking against yours in a steady rhythm.

"I'll be gentle, I promise," he murmured, his voice strained with the effort of restraining himself, "Let me know if it's too much."

He leaned down, capturing your lips in a searing kiss. It was clumsy and desperate, a reflection of his inexperience and his overwhelming desire, but it also nearly made your chest burst with a lovely ache.

Lost in the haze of pleasure, Alucard let himself get carried away, his thrusts becoming harder, faster, more urgent. Your encouraging moans and the way you wrapped your legs around his waist seemed to spur him on. He buried his face in the crook of your neck, inhaling your scent, tasting your skin.

"Y/N," he gasped, his voice ragged. "You feel incredible. I... I think I'm close."

He angled his hips, seeking that perfect spot inside you. His fingernails grew sharp, only knowing this because of the loud rip of the bedsheets.

"I love you," he breathed, his heart swelling with emotion. "I love you, Y/N."

You gaze at him with half-lidded eyes as he is on the verge of his climax, your heart fluttering at the sight of your lover unraveling before you. You saw the light sheen of sweat on his brow, his mouth agape as he groaned with pleasure. His eyes, golden as the sun, focused on you.

"Mmh... I-I love you too- A-Adrian!"

With success, Alucard hit that special spot deep inside you again... And again, causing your back to bow off the bed. You had no idea what that spot was that made you see stars, only knowing that it caused your body to squirm and your legs to shake.

Your orgasm hit hard, feeling yourself squeeze and ripple around Alucard’s shaft, causing him to lose all sense of restraint. With a guttural cry of your name, he thrust deep, his member pulsing as he reached his own peak.

Hot, thick fluid spilled from him, painting your insides with his essence. But as his mind registered the intensity of it, a flicker of panic surfaced. Pulling out quickly, he aimed his release at your lower belly, some of it splattering onto your skin.

"Y/N, I..." he began, his voice strained with a mix of post-orgasmic bliss and concern. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to..."

He trailed off, unsure of how to finish that thought as he sat back on the bed, staring at you for a moment with a sea of conflicting emotions on his face. You, on the other hand, were unbothered. Your head lifts from the mattress to look at him, confused at his apology.

"I'm sorry," he repeated, his voice barely above a whisper. "I didn't mean to be so clumsy, so... inexperienced."

He shifted on the bed, running a hand through his hair with his other rubbing against your ankle, his golden eyes wide and vulnerable. "Will you... Will you hate me now? Think less of me?"

You look at him in near shock, your post-orgasm bliss erased at the sight of your lover filled with unnecessary shame. You swore you could see the beginnings of tears in the corner of his eyes.

You move to sit up, eyes darting to the cum on your abdomen to Alucard, "Do I hate you? Are you insane? I've been covered in worse things. Goblin guts, werewolf piss... I could go on truly," you wave your hand around, and smile on your lips, “I love you, Adrian, and that will never change.”

You could see the wheels turning in Alucard’s brain as he processed your response, a genuine grin spreading across his face.

"Goblin guts and werewolf piss, hmm?" he mused, his golden eyes twinkling with amusement. "I suppose that puts things into perspective."

He relaxed back onto the bed, pulling you close to his side. His arms wrapped around you, holding you tight against his chest. Alucard nuzzled into your hair, inhaling your scent, the musk of their lovemaking mingling with your natural aroma.

"Thank you," he murmured against your head, his voice thick with emotion. "For being so understanding, so... you."

Alucard pressed a soft kiss to your temple, then your cheek, then your lips. Each one was gentle, filled with affection and gratitude. He savored the closeness, the intimacy of being entwined with you

"I love you, Y/N," he whispered, his hand tracing idle patterns on your back. "More than I ever thought possible. You've given me a gift today, one I will treasure forever."

He tilted your chin up, his golden eyes meeting yours, "I may be a novice at this," he admitted, a slight blush coloring his pale cheeks, "but I am yours, heart and soul. And I promise to learn, to be better."

Alucard kissed you again, slow and deep, pouring all his love into the gesture. When he pulled back, his forehead nuzzled against your jaw, snuggling in close to your warmth.

"You're not the only novice here... We'll learn together. What we like and different things for us to try." You whisper, your hand coming up to card through his soft hair.

"What do you say to a bath together and changing these sheets?"