[The worst part is that waking doesn't happen. Not immediately. There is still a tiny bat squirming around in the blanket burrito he's been wrapped in.
In dreams, the next breath is agony, and Carmilla pauses before she says more. She's terribly close to Alucard after all, and he may yet find strength to try and press the piece of silver sticking our of himself against her skin.
But for now that isn't happening, and there's something new to taunt with. It is remarkable that you can manage this much physical pain. I imagine that you'll struggle much more when your pets finally die and you realize how foolish you were not to turn them, just as your father did.
They're words that stop Alucard cold, and Carmilla tuts softly. And it isn't as if the opportunity hasn't presented itself time and again. You've been feeding from the Belmont, after all. One slip of your teeth and you don't need to worry about wretch human life spans. Or is it because you don't actually know how the process works?
There's a wretched moment as Carmilla leans in. As teeth tear into Alucard's neck, perhaps making a point, perhaps making things come to a close, and it doesn't matter. He jolts awake suddenly, the tiny bat no longer on Trevor's chest but Alucard's normal form.
He's wild eyed and trying to sit upright. He's not home. Shit, this isn't home at all, this is her homeland, no wonder the dreams....]
[ He’s trying to unwrap the tiny blanket. Maybe it’s too tight. Maybe it’s keeping him from breathing. Or maybe just too hot. He finally manages to get hold of it and then there’s the sudden impact of the thing on his chest weighing significantly more. It’s hardly a weight that he cannot handle (oh, he has handled it many times before), but it’s still a lot when it’s unexpected. It takes a moment to catch his breath. ]
[Holding still absolutely isn't happening. Not immediately, not until Alucard's sat up in bed, all the blankets now draped around his shoulder, and then realized that he's...
...he's fine. He knows where he is, he doesn't need to have his hand on his throat in order to protect it.]
No. [He breathes out. He can still speak.] Just a dream.
[ He reaches up blindly for Alucard, pawing at air until his hands fall against him and then navigating them to his sides so he can lift him and deposit him between Sypha and himself. Sypha, with her uncanny ability to know when she is needed, attaches to his back immediately, even in her sleep. Trevor strokes a hand through Alucard’s hair. ]
[This isn't their bed, so it isn't made to comfortably accommodate three. But that's fine. Being almost too close feels right. It is needed, that much he knows, and out of instinct the vampire buries his head against Trevor's shoulder. (It does not register that that is where he has been feeding from. Not right now.)
He shakes his head no, then realizes that it's hard to see the gesture in the dark.]
[ He just makes a noise of understanding at first, pulling all of them in closer so they don’t risk either Sypha or himself falling out of the bed. Alucard’s hair brushes against his neck and his heart beats twice as fast, but he manages not to react in any other way. It’s progress. ]
People who never existed really have no right causing so many fucking problems.
No, they don't. But we are where she was never from. Perhaps...
[It's bull. That isn't why Carmilla is back and the vampire knows it. She only ever appears to torment the vampire for his own worst thoughts now, the selfish horrible things that his father would do in another life, or that any other decent vampire would do without hesitation.
Alucard doesn't even realize his hair has brushed against Trevor's neck.]
Doesn't matter. She was there. Sewed my mouth shut.
[ He remembers the sewing, the long gouges down Alucard’s legs, laced through with that foreign twine like a boot might be. It’s enough to cut through his own shortness of breath and the distant sound of cracking.
Even his fucking trauma agrees that Alucard is more important. Awkwardly, because they are working with limited space, he brings a thumb up to Alucard’s lips, brushing it across them. ]
Nothing there. [ And then, because he’s a shit and doesn’t have any reason to believe that not being a shit would help, he smirks. Tries to, at least. It’s badly acted. ] But I could check more thoroughly, if you like.
[There's a part of the vampire that's mortified that they're at this place again. This trauma's not as important as Trevor's, the one that they're still working through. Carmilla, Carmilla is done and dusted. Ancient history by their standards, and yet...
...it's comforting, being together like this. Squished in, warm flesh brushing over his lip. There's a soft noise, faint.]
I think that'd be for the best. Kissing a bat is harder.
[ That’s all the encouragement he needs, so he leans it closer. It’s only a quick kiss - he really, really does not want to risk making Carmilla into a sex thing - but it’s a kiss nonetheless. A real one, not one of the many many tiny kisses to the forehead his bat form has been receiving from Sypha. ]
She never existed. Even if she did, we’d never let her touch you again. You know that, right?
[He murmurs it after the kiss, and this time the vampire's far too in his own head to realize he's pressed his head up against Trevor's neck entirely.]
[ He can hear the cracking now, his breath coming quick and shallow. He can ignore it. He can endure it. Alucard needs him, and he can endure near enough anything if there's a reason for it.
He's been thinking about that a lot lately. About why the feeding seems easier than anything else. It's because there's a purpose to it. Because even if Alucard doesn't need the blood, it's something he can give. And that- feels better than anything else could feel bad.
This is easier still. He endure, and he can curl his arms around Alucard and Sypha both, pulling all of them tightly around their vampire. A wall of adoration (a wall of fragile, short-lived humans) between him and anything that could come close. ]
[It's a loaded sentence. It's knowing that had the matter of the estate gone a different way, there would have been such a benefit to Alucard. That even now, every feeding, there's a terrible tiny part of him that is selfish that wants to keep them both forever.
He presses against Trevor. That selfish part of the vampire wins out right now, for all that he can hear those shallow breaths, he doesn't move at all.]
[ He can hear the cracking. They're talking about turning and he can hear the cracking. But he can endure. Alucard needs him, and he can endure. He turns his head, kissing at whatever he can reach. ]
We found you, even when you made yourself fucking impossible to find. Someone else will, too. People fall down holes all the time.
[Alucard's not sure where his arms are. (Pinned to his sides.) He moves one, so that it's tight around Trevor. So that his fingers can move up and down Trevor's spine, counting vertebrae to try and center himself.]
Won't be you both. And I'm not allowed in holes anymore, remember? Those were the terms of the Hold's custody.
You’re allowed in the hold. Maybe someone will fall down there.
[ He’s always been quick to melt into hands along his spine, and despite everything now is no exception. It helps a little. Keeps him grounded. ]
You can look forward to it. A husband who doesn’t have any fucking baggage. A wife who never breaks anything. [ He shouldn’t joke. He knows he shouldn’t joke, and he sighs and sinks against Alucard’s hand on his back. ] They won’t be is, but they’ll love you. How could they fucking not?
[Trevor's reaction is only encouragement to keep going. To keep counting what Alucard brushes against, because that's helping to weather this moment as well.
There's a petulant response. The who cares, it isn't you and that's all I want, the part that Carmilla encourages. There's the part that knows that Trevor is right in some regard (it will be 300 years. Her name will be Maria, and she'll be from one of those distant Belmont branches.)
Then there is the quiet realization of where his head has buried itself, and the slight recoil (because fully recoiling is not possible, the vampire is too held in place.)]
[ Sypha stirs at that, making a small, exhausted noise of confusion. ]
‘s the nightmares again. Nothing that needs burning.
[ In her sleep, mostly, she makes a noiseof sympathy and buries her face in Alucard’s hair, moving one and to his hip, and then she’s dead to the world once again. Trevor sighs, shaking his head.. ]
It’s fine. Easier, when I have other shit to worry about.
Hope you like getting paws shoved in weird places.
[It's a straight forward process, but still.]
These will ease up once we're home. [Carmilla is, after all, well excised from the castle.
But there is a lingering matter, and Alucard has to be daring approach it. He moves the other hand, not the one on Trevor's spine, and rests it on the spot where his own fangs have met flesh.]
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cryptsleeper) wrote2018-11-10 11:26 pm
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In dreams, the next breath is agony, and Carmilla pauses before she says more. She's terribly close to Alucard after all, and he may yet find strength to try and press the piece of silver sticking our of himself against her skin.
But for now that isn't happening, and there's something new to taunt with. It is remarkable that you can manage this much physical pain. I imagine that you'll struggle much more when your pets finally die and you realize how foolish you were not to turn them, just as your father did.
They're words that stop Alucard cold, and Carmilla tuts softly. And it isn't as if the opportunity hasn't presented itself time and again. You've been feeding from the Belmont, after all. One slip of your teeth and you don't need to worry about wretch human life spans. Or is it because you don't actually know how the process works?
There's a wretched moment as Carmilla leans in. As teeth tear into Alucard's neck, perhaps making a point, perhaps making things come to a close, and it doesn't matter. He jolts awake suddenly, the tiny bat no longer on Trevor's chest but Alucard's normal form.
He's wild eyed and trying to sit upright. He's not home. Shit, this isn't home at all, this is her homeland, no wonder the dreams....]
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[ He’s trying to unwrap the tiny blanket. Maybe it’s too tight. Maybe it’s keeping him from breathing. Or maybe just too hot. He finally manages to get hold of it and then there’s the sudden impact of the thing on his chest weighing significantly more. It’s hardly a weight that he cannot handle (oh, he has handled it many times before), but it’s still a lot when it’s unexpected. It takes a moment to catch his breath. ]
Shit. We weren’t suffocating you, were we?
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...he's fine. He knows where he is, he doesn't need to have his hand on his throat in order to protect it.]
No. [He breathes out. He can still speak.] Just a dream.
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[ He reaches up blindly for Alucard, pawing at air until his hands fall against him and then navigating them to his sides so he can lift him and deposit him between Sypha and himself. Sypha, with her uncanny ability to know when she is needed, attaches to his back immediately, even in her sleep. Trevor strokes a hand through Alucard’s hair. ]
Something you have to talk about?
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He shakes his head no, then realizes that it's hard to see the gesture in the dark.]
She came back.
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People who never existed really have no right causing so many fucking problems.
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[It's bull. That isn't why Carmilla is back and the vampire knows it. She only ever appears to torment the vampire for his own worst thoughts now, the selfish horrible things that his father would do in another life, or that any other decent vampire would do without hesitation.
Alucard doesn't even realize his hair has brushed against Trevor's neck.]
Doesn't matter. She was there. Sewed my mouth shut.
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[ He remembers the sewing, the long gouges down Alucard’s legs, laced through with that foreign twine like a boot might be. It’s enough to cut through his own shortness of breath and the distant sound of cracking.
Even his fucking trauma agrees that Alucard is more important. Awkwardly, because they are working with limited space, he brings a thumb up to Alucard’s lips, brushing it across them. ]
Nothing there. [ And then, because he’s a shit and doesn’t have any reason to believe that not being a shit would help, he smirks. Tries to, at least. It’s badly acted. ] But I could check more thoroughly, if you like.
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...it's comforting, being together like this. Squished in, warm flesh brushing over his lip. There's a soft noise, faint.]
I think that'd be for the best. Kissing a bat is harder.
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She never existed. Even if she did, we’d never let her touch you again. You know that, right?
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[He murmurs it after the kiss, and this time the vampire's far too in his own head to realize he's pressed his head up against Trevor's neck entirely.]
She voices everything a vampire ought to do.
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He's been thinking about that a lot lately. About why the feeding seems easier than anything else. It's because there's a purpose to it. Because even if Alucard doesn't need the blood, it's something he can give. And that- feels better than anything else could feel bad.
This is easier still. He endure, and he can curl his arms around Alucard and Sypha both, pulling all of them tightly around their vampire. A wall of adoration (a wall of fragile, short-lived humans) between him and anything that could come close. ]
What ought a vampire do?
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[It's a loaded sentence. It's knowing that had the matter of the estate gone a different way, there would have been such a benefit to Alucard. That even now, every feeding, there's a terrible tiny part of him that is selfish that wants to keep them both forever.
He presses against Trevor. That selfish part of the vampire wins out right now, for all that he can hear those shallow breaths, he doesn't move at all.]
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We found you, even when you made yourself fucking impossible to find. Someone else will, too. People fall down holes all the time.
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Won't be you both. And I'm not allowed in holes anymore, remember? Those were the terms of the Hold's custody.
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[ He’s always been quick to melt into hands along his spine, and despite everything now is no exception. It helps a little. Keeps him grounded. ]
You can look forward to it. A husband who doesn’t have any fucking baggage. A wife who never breaks anything. [ He shouldn’t joke. He knows he shouldn’t joke, and he sighs and sinks against Alucard’s hand on his back. ] They won’t be is, but they’ll love you. How could they fucking not?
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There's a petulant response. The who cares, it isn't you and that's all I want, the part that Carmilla encourages. There's the part that knows that Trevor is right in some regard (it will be 300 years. Her name will be Maria, and she'll be from one of those distant Belmont branches.)
Then there is the quiet realization of where his head has buried itself, and the slight recoil (because fully recoiling is not possible, the vampire is too held in place.)]
--!
I didn't mean to rest there--
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‘s the nightmares again. Nothing that needs burning.
[ In her sleep, mostly, she makes a noiseof sympathy and buries her face in Alucard’s hair, moving one and to his hip, and then she’s dead to the world once again. Trevor sighs, shaking his head.. ]
It’s fine. Easier, when I have other shit to worry about.
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...So...the solution is ultimately to worry you till it's no longer a thought at all?
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[ He laughs, and now that Alucard's backed away just a little he can reach to kiss him again. ]
Just find some crisis or another for me to take care of, and I'll be fine.
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Any particular requests?
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[ He doesn't quite laugh, but it's in his voice. He knows how bullshit it is that the only way to turn this off is to be worried for someone else. ]
Hard to think of anything that I don't already know we can fix.
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[There's a near laugh in the vampire's voice when he says it.]
In the mean time, I think that if I'm to get any sleep tonight, I'll need to be a wolf instead of a bat.
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[ Because Sypha's attached. And Trevor has no plans to let go, either. Sorry, vampire. You're stuck. ]
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[It's a straight forward process, but still.]
These will ease up once we're home. [Carmilla is, after all, well excised from the castle.
But there is a lingering matter, and Alucard has to be daring approach it. He moves the other hand, not the one on Trevor's spine, and rests it on the spot where his own fangs have met flesh.]
Is any of this helping?
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