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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[The vampire's still. The vampire's not clinging to the Belmont but it's starting to become that. The vampire's aware of defeat far more now than at any point in all of this. Getting here, suffering the trials, even suffering the fae court, it was still a way to ignore the passage of time. Even before being in Faerie they had been cautious to not treat this as anything but something that could be overcome. The confidence game, faking it until they made it.

This is poking holes into that game, into that lie of triumph that helps power through the fear. Alucard knows he'll teeter on the edge of control if he fails. (Sypha can't hold him back. He can't ask that of her, to shoulder his feelings along with hers.)

He can't say no to any of this. It's a last request if there ever was one, and when Alucard speaks again, his voice is barely audible. He's not looking at Trevor though, not yet.]

Okay.

Claws, or teeth?

[ He strokes the back of Alucard's hand, looking- regretful, maybe. A little. ]

No better options, I'm afraid. Can't do harm to myself, you know how this shit goes.

You're ignoring the question of where, you know.

[That defines which method for the vampire.

[ He turns over his hand. His right. ]

You fucked it up when we first met, right? May as well bring this shit full circle.

Other one. In case...

[In case they get halfway through this and need Trevor to fight just as much as the other two.]

Appreciate that you think I'll be any use at all in any 'in case' sort of situation.

[ He won't. He's already rendered nonviolent. They end up fighting fairies, the best he can do is plug his ears so he can't hear any further orders. He takes his right hand away from Alucard's anyway, replacing it with his left. ]

But you're humouring me, so I may as well return the favour.

It's our intent. So it will be.

[That's as much magic as Alucard's ever had, that of intent. He's used it stupidly and recklessly before, and this situation demands it be applied like a surgeon's scalpel. But intent can power him through for now.

There's a thumb rubbing a soft circle on the pulse point now. Hardly on purpose, but it's a heads up all the same.]

You need to tell me the minute it gets uncomfortable. Yank my hair. Hard.

[ The skin is delicate. Moth's wings truly is an accurate sort of way to describe it , all soft, microscopically tiny, slightly iridescent scales. He relaxes, still more than he was relaxed before, smiling. ]

You couldn't maybe pick a signal that I won't be doing in happier circumstances, once we're out of here?

Punch my shoulder then. And have fabric in your hand the minute I pull away.

[Once we're out of here. Those are good words to hear. Alucard lingers on those as he decides how best to do this. Trevor's hand may be in his, but the question of how much the Belmont is comfortable with seeing any of this lingers in the air.

With Trevor on his lap, he can only bend so far before he's at risk of dislodging the Belmont. He goes as far as he can, and the hand is brought up the rest of the way. Carefully turned over, aware of how thin and delicate the skin is. Alucard thinks not of things with wings, but of slide samples from his mother's medical work, all paper thin slices of organ and tissue that lets light pass through it for easier examination.

He bites, teeth sinking into flesh and finding vein. It's careful and measured, even if the part of him that is hunger demands he move it along. That part of him springs forward as blood flows, demanding he take, take, take for the love of whatever god's out there. Starving doesn't help anyone.

Alucard is careful though. The hand not supporting Trevor's taps out a careful beat, and what that really is is a way to measure how much he's taken. Under normal circumstances, he would consider a pint acceptable. This is not normal circumstances. They need Trevor to be able to move or fight or do just about anything. It has to be half a pint.

It'll cover five days. More than enough.]

[ It's a little like everything else here, a little pain leaving him tired and light-headed with everything at the eyes of his vision a little softer. But it's also Alucard, and so in all of that there's nothing to be afraid of. Selfishly, he almost wishes Alucard would allow himself to ask this of him normally. He hasn't been afraid in a long time, and there's something comforting about knowing in such a real, literal way that he's part of the second most precious thing on the earth.

But he already asks so much. Like Sypha and the gun, it's maybe one step too far. And that had been necessary.

(His blood is human, but too sweet. All figs and honey and wine, sunlight and stained glass, brightly coloured silks floating in summer breezes. But his ownership is still in dispute. No matter how much he tastes of this place, until it's decided one way or the other, he doesn't count as fairy food. There's magic in it, practically singing in Alucard's head, but so little that he can actually do with it.)

He takes one of the silks, a sturdy-feeling one, one that isn't vital to the layer of soft cloth between Alucard and the silver floor. ]

Adrian. [ He squeezes Alucard's shoulder softly. He'll punch if he has to, but he's fairly certain that this'll be enough. ]

[Alucard is already pulling away when his name is uttered. He's taken enough, he knows exactly how much. His mouth pulls away, and Alucard is very careful not to dribble. He's an adult vampire for Christ's sake, he knows how to not dribble.

More than that, he knows how to deal with this next part. Before even motioning for the fabric he has his hand applying pressure to the bite, firm and aware that it will take several minutes to stop the blood flow. He learned this kind of thing from his father who insisted that it be learned. There would be days where blood could not come in bags and he would not have his son starve for want of knowledge.

His free hand wipes away the little bit of blood on his lips, and Alucard's tongue runs over his teeth to clean off anything that still clings. The matter of taste didn't enter his mind as he latched to Trevor's wrist, mostly because hunger wasn't the same as taste. Now though, now he picks up on the nuances. Those kinds of things are always there to those who care to consider it, revelations about diet and health and all of that, and what is truly within Trevor is a debate over what defines Trevor Belmont? The sweetness is too cloying, the rest normal human blood all iron and Alucard's own cooking. He knows which one he prefers, which is a thought he will never speak out loud.

Alucard lifts his head up slowly. The magic in the blood requires some kind of equilibrium to be found, and that means careful movements. As he does so, the sweep of golden hair gets in the way, and he has to brush it back. There's no look of satisfaction on his face as he turns to Trevor, there's the slightest look of relief, coupled with ruddier cheeks.]

Cloth, please.

Here.

[ He has to take his hand from Alucard's shoulder to do it (he doesn't really want to. The contact feels correct for this situation) but he hands the cloth over. Hands it over and returns his hand to Alucard's shoulder.

The relief is enough. More than enough. It's not guilt, or regret, or anything like those. It's positive, even. That's more than he could have hoped. ]

Thanks. For humouring me.

[Alucard's careful as he removes his hand from the wound. (It's two small puncture marks, but still a wound. Some blood does come out as his fingers leave, but it's quickly covered by the fabric. Fabric that gets tied tightly around Trevor's wrist, and Alucard's hand returns there to keep applying pressure.]

I can't say I see how any of that was humoring you.

[But it solves a minor problem. One that means more time to keep arguing that this man cannot claimed by any fae. That the contracts of the human world carry more weight, especially now that there are no Belmonts in Europe.

Alucard has no idea where Sypha is in her defenses now. All he knows is that before there's a final agreement, she has promised to consult with him.]

Oh, you don't think there was a time when you would have pulled that 'no, I am too good and noble for this! I will not take blood from you even if it's a good idea!' bullshit?

[ He leans against Alucard again. He'd stopped, when he was taking the blood. It's comfortable, and the conversation and the dull ache in his wrist is doing a decent job at keeping him present. ]

Thanks for sparing me that. I know how much you hate this shit.

[How dare you call him out like this???]

Trevor, this is possibly the only time I would not...[He groans.] Say essentially those exact words, although not in that tone.

[Having Trevor leaning against him again takes most of the fight out of the vampire. He's not happy, but at least Trevor knows how much of a line this is for him.]

I...appreciate that acknowledgement.

It would absolutely be in that tone.

[ It would be and you know it, vampire. ]

You won't have to do it again. But- remember that it's not you taking something from us. It's us using what we are to help someone we love. No different from when you float up to get books for her. [ His free hand falls on top of Alucard's, over his wrist. ] It's something that we can give to you, because we want to give you all we can.

It would not.

[Stop. Calling. Him. Out.

Quiet isn't really an option right now. In other circumstances, that's what the vampire would want after something like this, just a few moments for it. He can't, and so his free hand finds it's way to Trevor's hair and it begins to simply play with it. Stroke whatever's in reach, ignoring Trevor's too light weight.

He presses his head to the side of Trevor's.]

It'll always be more complicated than that for me. But you already know that. [He can't be quiet. Not allowed, not when it means Trevor will start to forget again.] Besides, you give all I'd ever ask and then some. Both of you. Constantly.

[This is sounding too sentimental. Too...too against what would otherwise be a Belmont in the hardest workmode he's ever been in. That's the better spirit to be in, to still be thinking about how to fight any of this.]

[ All he has left is sentiment. Orders can stop anything else. Don't leave. Don't fight. Don't do harm to oneself. Don't plot against us. He can't be ordered not to feel. The forgetting stops the sentiment, but with Alucard here it's slower. Easier to reverse. ]

We would give more. So much more. [ He hopes he can still appreciate times like this when this is over. In an objective sense, the warm breeze, the sunlight, the birdsong and soft chimes as he lays against Alucard, one hand stroking his hair and keeping him safe and grounded - all of it is wonderful. If he can go home after all of this, he hopes it isn't ruined. ] It's- nice. To know that part of me is inside you.

[ A pause. ] ...I could phrase that better.

-you're perfect. The second most perfect thing there is. I want to be part of you in every way I possibly can be.

You could have, but then you'd rob me of the opportunity to say that I like when other parts of you are in me much more.

[And he doesn't quite laugh, but it's close enough. That'll be high on the list of things to do with Trevor when they're out of this disaster zone, after eat themselves stupid and sleep. Alucard's sure he'll have to give some kind of explanation to his father of what happened (and what has been sacrificed in exchange for the Belmont), but the other things are much more important.

He kisses what he can of Trevor's forehead. Kisses so that while Trevor's talking, he's grounded in affection.]

You've managed it, you ass. Only took this much happening to get there, I suppose.

Soon. [ He chuckles. It's too warm to pull any of the blankets or furs around them (It's always too warm. Here. Back home. Everywhere.) but he can lift his arm, the one with the bound wrist, up to lean his hand on Alucard's shoulder and keep the cut raised above his heart. He can move the other arm around his back, so it's an awkward sort of embrace. Once the bleeding stops, they can return to the way they were, Alucard a pleasant weight against him and only the silver floor to worry itself about his too-light weight. ] Soon, with any luck.

[ And he tilts his head upward suddenly, to catch one of those kisses on his lips. ]

I did. Eat shit, I won.

You'll need to give me a dinner order, so I can get started the second we're in the door.

[Food is the absolute first priority when they're home. He and Sypha will be starved, and who knows what fun and terrible transformations Trevor will endure as he's fully their Trevor again. What to eat upon returning home is Trevor's call. Something else to ground him.

Alucard tries to fuss when Trevor moves his other hand, but there's no point. The elevation is right, and this is closer anyway. Close is the only thing that he cares about in the end, has been since he was the one to enter this cage. (It had been no surprise to the court that Alucard offered to do this when it was clear Sypha and himself were there to just get down to business.)

There's no time to tsk at Trevor, to offer a smartass remark of do you really feel like tasting your own blood? The kiss happens, and he withdraws too quickly. But there's a better opportunity for it.]

I will eat your blood once. Your shit? Never.

[Alucard was asleep when it happened. Curled up in his wolf form, in front of the fire, tucked in under himself and finally appreciating what good the fur of the form could really do when the weather was cold and wet and snowy. He was content. Sleepy. Very much unaware that he was ensconced in a construction project.

Which is all to say that there's a pillow fort around the not-currently-a-vampire, someone's draped a blanket over the wolf too, and there is an immediate confused and very loud whine from the direction of said wolf.

Who is obscured from view by the pillow fort.

And it definitely smells like Trevor at the moment, so he at least knows who the guilty party is.]

[ It's the old phrase, isn't it? When the vampire's away, the Belmont and the Speaker will get drunk on illegally obtained unconsecrated communion wine.

Or something like that. It probably goes like that.

Alucard is away for the evening, on business with Theodora. And Trevor is only half-listening to Sypha's radio show. He can't say he finds it that interesting, and he can't help but wonder if it's the way that the stories are told that catches her heard twice as much as the stories themselves. He's never asked if her caravan has access to a radio - it'd be a priority, but those things aren't cheap.

He gets up shortly before the end of it and returns as it draws to a close with two bottles of wine. Which would probably be a more romantic gesture if he didn't also show up with a pair of mugs instead of wine glasses. Also if he didn't immediately say- ]

-You want to get fucked up and complain about our father in law?

[ So maybe Alucard didn't sleep well last night. And maybe they can't actually give Dracula the talking to that he deserves for being the source of that. But they can get really drunk and complain about him while his son isn't here to defend him. ]

[Sypha, for her part, is at least somewhat used to colder environments. Not the way that Trevor is, six pairs of socks and a big heavy coat feeling like home to him, but the Speakers have traveled across the mountains before. They've been in the north, on occasion, when winter came. Granted, they've largely learned to migrate south when the colder months come for precisely that reason, but sometimes they stay. It wouldn't be proper to abandon the frozen north and those who might need their aid for several months out of the year, just because of a little frost.

So Sypha, the little furnace that could, has been indulgent with both the boys when it comes to the cold, but with Alucard especially, for how little he's used to the chill and the damp. In this case, she's been indulgent in two ways: with Trevor in letting him erect his pillow fort around the wolf in their midst without tattling, and now with Alucard by sitting nearby to wait for him to wake up.]

[There is a second whine, and then it is replaced by a far more familiar and infinitely more annoyed (and baffled) voice.]

What has been built around me?

[Not about to sit up, as Alucard is aware that even the peaked point of the fort above his head is easily moved, he remains sprawled on the floor. Belly pressed down on it, his head now poking out of the fort entirely.

He turns his head, and there's one of them. Alucard shakes his head, hair a right mess from sleeping so curled up.]

And how much did you help?

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20s AU Post

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