cryptsleeper | 20s AU Post

20s AU Post

Current Carmilla plot outline
--Post-fire, Carmilla and Mr. Peanut team up mostly to use each other. Carmilla's spent the past several months (since November, it is now February 1925) networking, and it's clear to her that Alucard's not suited for the position and that the other two are the obvious weakness. Mr Peanut needs something back, so this is perfect on her end. Mr Peanut can only imagine the joys of vampire blood in his work, and he'd like an army of vampires for his own ends.
--Shit stirring from Mr Peanut (all of March?)
--Mr Peanut also begins to sell mis Miracle Serum, which has vampire blood in it.
--Gang is very much trying to murder Mr Peanut during this.
--Start of April, vampire gets a call from one of the blood bank contacts that 3 patients have come in and are displaying some bizarre signs. Investigation yields the fact that they're in process of turning, and they've all taken the same serum.
--Additional investigation reveals O FUCK IT MR PEANUT
--Meanwhile Carmilla's been made aware of a familiar she didn't sire, so she knows something's up. Big fight with Mr. Peanut and thus Mr. Peanut is left depowered
--Gang commits a murder
--Carmilla's well sured up on her contacts now, and it's time for open rebellion (mid-April)
--In a more subtle attempt to let Alucard just step aside, she cuts the breaks on demon car and shows up to gloat/suggest he not pull a dad and go to deal with his grief quietly while she runs the city. The how he wants to do it is up to him (black widow joke goes here.) Treffy and Sypha walk in.
--1 week of straight up rebellion; feedings, no help from allies, need to do damage control instead of fight carmilla, every dracula rule is
--MEANWHILE IN GRAVITY FALLS, triangle shows Vlad what's up to try and psyche him out, somehow this finalyl snaps Vlad out of his depression and he heads home
--Just in time for Alucard and Carmilla to be tearing each other to bits in one of the bayous, it's not going well
--Vlad coming in means the king of vampires is accosted by a belmont with a pair of blessed knitting needles and a speaker with a fucking gun and he's just like what the shit happened to the world while i was gone
--Wards around the fight means that only demon car can break the wards, everyone has to pile in.
--Carmilla gets her ass kicked AND SENT TO THE JUSTICE DIMENSION

THEN THERE WERE FAERIES.
--Prior to all of this the vampire and Sypha have done a shit ton of research on how to get their Belmont back
--Sypha has also been practicing debating with dad, which leaves everyone Very Tired.
--When Trevor is actually snatched up (1 year after marriage, it takes fae effort. Taking Arn's shape fails, so it's a lot more kidnapping by force), Sypha and Alucard go into Faerie
--But they're playing this as politics, not as heroes rescuing their damsel, so that means the faeries are just "wait what now excuse u?"
--There are 3 gates and 3 trials (the particulars we're still bullshitting.) Each is asked to sacrifice 3 things. (Alucard: voice, his titles as bestowed upon by his father and his people, i forget the third; Sypha: her human form (she's a birb), fuck what were the other two)
--They enter the court at the end of the third trial. After LITERALLY ALL THE TITLES Sypha declares she Speaks for Trevor Belmont
--Claim debate over Trevor, turns out that the rules are in Sypha's favor.
--But that means debating to leave Fae without giving up what they've chosen.
--Sypha lawyers it all out, Alucard is a safety deposit and hangs out with Fae!Trevor
--In the end, safe passage out of Faerie consists of Sypha giving up her memory of the necromancer (billed as a great mage she studied under), the vampire gives up his immortality, and Trevor is replaced with Carmilla (dad was aware of this option and OK with it), but Trevor has his ability to swear taken. He now soundslike a rubber ducky when he tries
--Everyone gets home okay, except for the AU of this AU where the gang fails, but Trevor's on their doorstep like a bat out of Hell because time doesn't work right and he's been in Hell for a WHILE.

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I needed you to be human for an hour out of every day.

[It was worse than when Trevor first took up residence in the castle, all salt and vinegar, making it impossible to be comfortable. This was with the knowledge of how incredibly warm and wonderful and peaceful the house could be, how Trevor could care and make that fact known in his own ways. Just as Alucard did. Just as Sypha did.

He wanted comfort from a brick wall. Reassurance. Some other way to express every fear that was inside of him, seeking ways to get out. And now fear comes in words, cracking and sticking in his throat.]

I don't want this to be added to the cost of this horrible thing.

We were both of us willing to die, and yet this is too much?

[ There’s something in his tone, at least. Something that isn’t anger. Amusement, maybe, and not the nasty, grim kind that he falls back on when he’s afraid. He offers Alucard his hand, all marked on the palm but still his hand. ]

You have fucked up priorities, vampire.

What's the point of success if it tears everything assunder? Better to fail then.

[In another world, one older and in such different circumstances, those words might ring out differently. Such as it is, Alucard just gives up holding back the tears that have been threatening to escape for a time. He misses the shift in tone. Misses the offered hand, because everything's gone blurry.

(Also, his hands? Covered in fish.)]

They are fine. There is simply a heart in two hands and one is fading.

[ Spoken like someone who is absolutely not a Belmont. He waits, sighs, and lets his hand fall to his side again. ]

Sometimes, this is what- shit, you probably know how the sentence goes by now.

[ This is what victory looks like. Tears and fish and rejected attempts at reconciliation and everything broken beyond repair. ]

I hate those words.

[They've been overused now. They ring too hollow for this moment.]

You don’t have to like them for them to be true.

[ He doesn’t try again. Not offering his hand, anyway. Alucard doesn’t want that, and he doesn’t care for the rejection. ]

Whatever becomes of us, it was worth it.

The meaning is dulled with overuse.

[Alucard turns the faucet on to fill the silence. Washes his hands because they're still covered in fish smell and there's enough sense of him to be aware he's been standing over the sink with raw fish on his hands for far too long.]

I never apologized for marring your palms, did I?

Never asked you to.

[ Kind of hoped he wouldn’t notice, in fact. Because that little detail of the spell seemed like something too likely to dissuade Alucard from doing what was needed. ]

Didn’t think you knew.

[Alucard wipes his hands on the nearby dishtowel, careful and possibly buying himself time.]

Wasn't the right time to say anything. [Under any other circumstances, it would have because he hurt Trevor. The stupid bugfuck fear for Sypha was the only thing that convinced him of compromising himself.

Finally, Alucard turns back to Trevor, his face pale pink and splotchy. He barely can pick his arm up right now, but he gestures to the hand all the same.]

May I?

My fucking magic. Consequences of it are on me, not you.

[ And he reaches out to take Alucard’s hand, cautious and delicate. ]

[That's a nice lie to have handy. Blaming the magic instead of their personalities and how they handle crisis. Trevor who's been trained for it and whose fae nature makes it easier to put nose to grind stone and power through. Adrian who lived too comfortable and spoiled a life (princeling) where real terror and tradgey never struck, leaving him with precious few coping mechanisms.

Alucard takes the hand like it's glass. He's barely putting any pressure there, like this is too delicate and overwhelming a task. (It is.) He guides the hand up to his lips, and the kiss he presses over the injury is just as light and barely there.]

[ And it’s no different than it was before all of this. Soft and careful, as if he were made of spun sugar rather than flesh and spite lanced through with magic. Everything that Adrian had been before. ]

...I’m going to touch your face. [ He says it flatly, the same way he warned Alucard about moving him about with the spell. And then he does so, free hand stroking over Alucard’s cheek and temple before combing upward into his hair. ]

[The flat tone is a near terror, but that fades just as soon as Trevor's hands ghosts over his cheek. He needed this a week ago. Just for a moment. Just to be reassured in all the ways that steel and grit and sheer furious purpose weren't.

It's not quite normal, but it is close enough. Enough for Alucard to close his eyes and simply let this happen, the hand still so gently latched onto Trevor's guiding it downwards to Alucard's hip.]

[ He still loves him. He still loves him so much. Guided, his hand comes to rest on Alucard’s hip. The other strokes through his hair, settling on his back and oulling him close. ]

My monster. My Alucard. My Adrian.

[ All of the things he is, none of them matter half so much as mine.]

[Being so close means that Trevor can and will feel the flinch at that second word. Monster. Stings like princeling does. Maybe even worse, is the vampire is forced to admit it. One thing he can protest that he isn't. The other is impossible to deny.

But mine. That counts for a lot, and he doesn't do much more than focus on being held, on having an impossibly comforting hand on his back after this.]

[ He does feel the flinch. And perhaps he ought to care about that more, but- It’s true. And he needs to remember it, even if Alucard doesn’t. He can’t go denying what he is, because that would be as horrible as denying that he is a Belmont or Sypha a Speaker.

If he can’t love him as he is, then he can’t love him at all. ]

‘m here. I’m here. [ It’s what he’s been saying to calm Sypha when she needs it. ] Whatever the fuck we both end up being, I’m here. Your Belmont.

[ His human. His fairy knight. His shield. His Trevor. ]

...Oh. You're still stuck, aren't you.

[Telling her the truth, she means, which he can probably guess. She draws in a breath and lets it out again in one of those full-body sighs she keeps doing lately, the ones that seem to release more air than she ever drew in, like she's finding it somewhere inside her and shoving it out, and making it take her tension along with it.]

Do you want me to fix it, so that you can speak as you want to again?

Don't really mind.

[ Another kiss to the top of her head. He'd have to let go of her to reach anywhere else. ]

I needed this. To ask you about the gun. I'd have found a way to avoid it, otherwise. And I don't need it anymore, but if you do-

-not like I can avoid telling you anything anymore anyway, right? Doesn't make all that much difference either way.

[ And for once, he doesn't really sound like that's a complaint. As far as he's concerned, he still got the best deal. ]

[Time in the fae realm was a thing of legend. Step through a portal, then out, and it'll be a hundred years. The three of them, they've been here for what seems like a week and yet there has only been one meal served (dinner, made to be elaborate, because last meals and Alucard used a lot of self control to not react to it.) So it tracks that it must still only be the 31st, and Sypha has been negotiating for such a long time.

With Sypha there (she is queen of words, of particulars, of knowing how to argue and dip into legend to back everything up), Alucard could do nothing else but stay with Trevor. Curl up around him, protective and possessive and ready to snarl and destroy anything that comes near. Face buried in Trevor's back pressing kisses there whenever he can. They've been through this once before, back before his father was in the city, back when Carmilla was still a threat, back when the ordeal hoisted upon them chose Sypha as a victim. (It should be over after all of this. They've each had their trials. Sypha and that fucking necromancer. Alucard and the city. Now Trevor and the fae.) The snarling possessiveness has been tempered with a two year reprieve from acting as regent, but the instinct remains.

Other instincts remain too. With time fluxuating around them, there is the other hunger, the one usually kept at bay by the fridge's blood compartment. Drinking from fae is what got the Belmonts into this mess in the first place. Alucard also can't imagine a worse violating of hospitality.

He dozes every so often. He's doing it now, using the Belmont as a mattress, covering him as best as he can. Trevor's still too wide for it to be done by Alucard alone, but he's trying his best. He's also realizing there's a metallic smell in the air, and in the dozy, dreamlike state he's in, instinct has more sway. Alucard perks, blinking away the sleepiness.]

[ He had been waiting for them, at the place that the compass led, difficult to recognize even when the funeral shroud (thin silk, sewn in beautiful patterns with silver thread that meant that Sypha had to be the one to pull it away) was pulled back. Because he's different, in this place. All scarless, with silver-blue eyes reflecting light like a cat's. Not paler, not quite, but with magic shimmering under his skin and catching light. Breathing comes more easily. Everything looks and sounds sharper to him, more real. Even silence has a weight to it. It's a little like being in church, and isn't that kind of a fucked up thought?

The prison is what one might metaphorically call a gilded cage. It's only metaphorical instead of literal because the intricate, swirling bars of it are silver and not gold. There is no furniture, but it's comfortable, the floor lined with cushions and silk blankets and soft furs from creatures he's certain don't really exist. He isn't sure what he was expecting, when this finally happened. It wasn't so much colour, so much brightness, to be washed in perfumed water and wrapped in silk and beads and fed figs and honey and wine.

(The door of it isn't even locked. But he can't leave. He's been told not to. And the orders of the fae hold truer even than Sypha's.)

And he's forgetting. This place seems so sharp. So colourful. So real. The time before it seems soft and dreamlike, and even with Alucard lying on top of him, even knowing that somewhere beyond that open door that he can't pass there is someone fighting for him-

-he's biting his lip again. Drawing blood, this time. ]

Her name. [ He whispers when Alucard stirs. His voice is so heavy, so weary, so defeated. ] The speaker, did she have a name?

[The change in their husband had been more than enough to throw Sypha and Alucard for a loop. (They got a year and a day with him, if this all goes to hell. Not enough time, but probably more than he ever expected. It isn't a compromise but it's...ugh. That stupid fucking motto. Alucard always wondered why the Belmont coat of arms didn't have that phrase on it.) Magic wasn't for Belmonts except when it was, and then it was a specific brand of it. Not intent. Something that could become intent though, when channeled.

It's still strange now, however long it's been. Alucard doesn't like it, doesn't like the lack of scars that he knows so well, the way light hits Trevor's eyes and make it clear he isn't exactly human. (That is Alcard's job.) How easy it is for him to get out, out but to have free will denied to him.

Alucard lifts his head, following the smell.

Trevor. Just Trevor. Being stupid and biting so hard he's drawing blood. His mind elsewhere, this place shifting reality far too much for Alucard's liking. That question, that alone makes him want to demand how dare this place make anything from the past twenty some years of Trevor's life be anything but real.

Anger isn't helpful. Alucard just reaches down and takes Trevor's right hand. Brings it up, so that they can both look at it. At the wedding ring, because fuck that still has to carry weight.]

Sypha. Your wife. Ours.

[ His right hand lifts without resistance, and he tilts his head to look at the ring there.

Oh. He thinks he remembers that ring. They tried to remove it from him, didn't they, when they bathed him. None of them could so much as touch it. ]

Sypha. Syyyyphaaaaa. [ He says, dragging out the syllables, testing the word with his mouth to see how it feels. Correct. Correct is how it feels. She must have been nice. She must have been wonderful. The third time he says it the floaty tone is gone from his voice, replaced with intent. ] Sypha.

[ ('I want to Speak for Trevor Belmont.' He remembers that.)

He turns his hand, as if expecting to see something on his palm. There's nothing there. Was there ever anything there? 'Ours' he'd said, and Trevor stares at Alucard like he's a puzzle he's trying to solve. ]

[He hates it. Hates the way Trevor has to even test her name. Has to say it thrice to stir up anything at all, and the tone isn't much better. But this is an endurance trial as much as the last time was, and he has grown. He isn't a hissing and spitting thing backed into a corner. He's still terrifed of course, but Sypha's here. Sypha's doing the work, the kind of work she was born for.

And he's here. Here bound up with Trevor, and that's terrible too. The same configuration as before. She's still alone, like before. But all the power is in her hands now, and vaguely Alucard wonders what happens if you take off a fae's teeth with a firearm.

Alucard doesn't move much from his current position. He only stretches up so he can kiss Trevor's jaw.]

Legally she has more claim now than they do. You'll be home soon.

[ There's a pleasantness to all of this. A kindness. An absence that he knew held something dark, something that gentle hands have cut out from inside his heart.

(There was never a war. There was never a family home in ruins. There was never a city or a tragic murder or an empty throne or an usurper. There has only ever been this place, this cage of intricate silver vines and flowers, all silk and sunlight and the smell of jasmine and berries on a romanian summer evening.)

But for everything that he doesn't miss, there's an absence that aches. He stares at the ring, at the way it's actually two rings wound around each other and locked together, one copper in colour and one gold. And that's somehow a mystery he doesn't have the answer to, just as surely the man on his chest is. ]

'm married. [ He protests, when Alucard kisses him. ]

You're married to me too, Trevor.

[Alucard's words are soft. Only hinting at fear, fear of being forgotten. His hand comes up and rests atop Trevor's. Same ring, the gold darker through some magic. The same inscription if Alucard bothered to take either off, but he won't. Not now, not when it might help the fae's case against them both. (Against Sypha, really. She's the one on the paper work, after all.) His trace over the part of Trevor's ring that is gold, hoping to bring that point home.]

To us both. A year and a day, then with us for many months before that. Loved her first of course, but that's easy to do.

[Which is why she's easier to remember as well, of that much he's certain.]

You've only been here less than a day.

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Page 61 of 141

20s AU Post

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