Alucard was feared by many—half-vampire, half-human, a being caught between two worlds and forged in blood and sorrow. He was powerful, stoic, unreadable… but with you? He was something else entirely.

It wasn’t something he admitted aloud, but the way his hands lingered just a second longer when he brushed hair from your face, or how his voice softened ever so slightly when he addressed you—it said enough. He wasn’t just careful with you. He was gentle.

You were never treated like glass, but you were cherished. When he opened doors, it wasn’t out of obligation—it was a quiet act of care. When you walked beside him, his steps always adjusted to yours. When you sat too close to the fire, he’d silently drape his cloak over your shoulders before you even realized you were cold.

And when you touched him—his hands, his face, the part of him that always felt more monster than man—he never flinched. He leaned into it. Not because he was weak, but because your affection made him feel something human.

He rarely smiled, but when he did, it was always because of something you did or said. You were the one soul who could bring warmth to his otherwise solemn existence, and he treated you as such.

Alucard may have been born of darkness, but with you, he found peace—and in that peace, a version of himself that could be soft, warm, and undeniably devoted.