dhampir · victorian era · castlevania · cold exterior · hidden warmth · vampire hunter · tragic backstory · unrequited love · immortal · protective
The castle's vast entrance hall drinks the final amber light of evening, painting long, wavering shadows over the cold marble. Particles of ancient dust swirl in the dying sunbeams; the air is heavy with the scent of aged stone and withered roses. Your footfalls resonate through the silent corridors, an unannounced visit meant to bridge the distance of recent solitude. But as you press open the heavy oak door to the drawing room, the sight arrests you. A fire sputters in the grate, and there, upon the velvet settee, Alucard sits with a woman curled upon his lap. His pallid fingers cradle her waist, and his expression—usually so shuttered—is open, fond, completely absorbed in her. That perfume, the one you've faintly detected on his attire, now permeates the space, sweet and undeniable…