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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Hmm!

[A good question. A very good question, in fact, and one that she would probably be better at answering if she weren't starting to get tipsy. But even despite tipsiness, a little willpower goes a long way, and goodness knows Sypha is nothing if not good at willpower.]

I think...youuuuu...would not give me the telling of me that —

[Wait. Words went haywire somewhere in there, and she makes a face.]

Wait, no. Biting me! I think that you would not give me biting me, either. Because neither of you will.

Right. Yeah, yeah. Careful, and all.

[ He's... pretty sure that's what she means? He's not unaffected by the wine himself. Less than Sypha, certainly, and in different ways. Some words come easier, others become more difficult, and a flush is beginning to start at his ears and spread forward into his face.

And he considers it. It might have been an easier thing to ask before the incident, perhaps, when the sight of bruises or red marks on her generally only meant that she'd been dancing too hard after a little too much to drink again. ]

Mmn.

[ It's not unappealing. It's just- coloured by horrible things, right now. ]

You have to- not tell me to. But tell me that you want me to. And maybe put down the wine a moment.

[ They're in so much trouble if they spill it on the couch. ]

Hmmm.

[She thinks about it a minute, contemplating him, and then the glass, and then the couch, and then the both of them together. She thinks about it, and about her mug, and then she carefully sets the mug onto the table and even remembers to put a coaster underneath it so as not to ruin the finish.

She thinks about it, and then she gets up off the couch and moves around so that she's standing in front of Trevor, facing him, and then leans forward and lightly pushes him back by the shoulders as she climbs up onto him and finds a comfortable seat on his knees, straddling his lap with her own bent legs on either side.]

Sometimes I wonder if you know how much I trust you with me. My Trevor, so careful with me. You could tell me to jump and I would move without question, even if to do it would seem to mean a fall. Because you would never let me fall.

[She leans forward, softly kissing his cheek.]

I want...I want to feel your bite. I want to know how it feels. Please?

[ Oh.

Well.

It's almost impressive, how he's been with the both of them now for the better part of half a year and she still manages to catch him off guard like this. He wraps his arms around her waist, pulling her in close to his chest. So soft. So delicate. So warm. And so, so very careful with her request's wording, to make sure that whether he does it or not it's his own decision.

(And it is his own decision, entirely, but how could he ever say no to her?)

Nuzzling against her neck, he pulls the collar of her dress to one side with his mouth. Less out of any attempt to be appealing, more because doing so with his hands would mean not having his arms around her waist. And that would be wrong. He plants a light kiss at the space between neck and collarbone that he's revealed. ]

Here? [ He asks, speaking against her skin, and he doesn't sound entirely certain. ] Here is- traditional.

Oh, a traditionalist.

[She shouldn't tease, not when she can tell even through her tipsy haze that he's nervous, but it's sort of funny and so she can't help but giggle a little at it. The hands that used to be resting on his shoulders turn inward, following the line of his shoulderblades across to his neck, and then shift around and up to bury in the hair at the nape of his neck, cradling the back of his head in both her hands.]

Trevor, please...

[She knows, vaguely, that she has to be careful. No demands, no orders. But maybe she can wind him up a little like this, instead, and make him feel better about it.

So she keens a little instead, warm and rich in the back of her throat, and squirms in his arms only just enough that he'll be able to feel her moving, and thus feel her all the more as a result of it.]

That feels good, please...

About this? Of course. Why would you expect anything less?

[ He's a Belmont, being a traditionalist about vampire-adjacent things is what he does. He kisses again, briefly, before cautiously allowing his teeth to graze against the skin.

And when there's no resistance to that, he kisses again more aggressively this time. Is he putting this off because he's nervous about it? Absolutely. ]

Hit me or something if it's too much.

[ And he finally, finally bites down. Very softly at first, slowly increasing the pressure of it. ]

[He's close enough, she muses a little dizzily, that he can probably hear her heart beating faster in her chest; all things considered, perhaps he can even feel its cadence close to where his lips are pressed. She's as nervous as he is, on some level, or maybe it's just that she's nervous by osmosis, but she rakes her fingers through his hair the more he warms up to the idea until finally, finally, there's teeth.

His mouth is blunt and human, with no accompanying pinch of razor fang that she would anticipate out of Alucard's; his teeth aren't made for that sort of work, however much he might be doing an imitation of it now. But it turns out to be...oddly nice, despite the sting, and at first she can't quite place why, until she considers the fact that the next time she looks in the mirror there'll be the memory of his teeth left over on her skin, and seeing it will be like telling a story entirely in and of itself, a flashbulb recollection of precisely this moment — the strength in his thighs beneath her, the steady power of his arms wrapping her up.

That's what does her in, ultimately, and she makes a noise as soft as his bite as she tugs lightly on his hair, encouraging even as her own arms keep him gathered in close to her chest like a vision of some goddess accepting a penitent's prayer.]

[ There's only so far he's willing to go, and so when the skin starts resisting his attempts to bite down harder he stops, holding the pressure for a moment. Breath comes out of his nose uncomfortably warm. All of this is uncomfortably warm, from her skin to the late winter evening to the flush of his ears. Everything is always uncomfortably warm.

But it's nice, her sweet and warm above him, gathering him up against her.

He releases the bite only a little less slowly than he bit down. ]

Anything.

[ He murmurs against her chest before kissing over the mark. ]

I stand corrected. ...Or sit. Sit corrected.

[It's unusually hard to catch her breath, somehow, even though she really hasn't done anything that should leave her short of it. Even after his mouth releases her, she can still feel the toe-curling sting radiating heat beneath her skin, and she has to take a minute to focus on it, to examine it and quantify it and really appreciate it.

(She'll spend an hour in front of the mirror later, she knows, looking at it. The shape, the color, the wealth of memories attached to it. She'll remember holding him to her, how thick his hair had felt woven through her fingers. She'll remember how low the register of his voice dipped when he breathed that word at her, anything, and the sweetness of the kisses that followed.)

It must be hard to kiss her, she thinks dazedly, with the rise and fall of her chest being as ragged as it is right now. One hand stays holding the back of his head while the other brushes back around to his ear, fingertips tracing the shell gone hot and red with flush before following it down to his stubbly jaw.]

...So.

[So.]

What now?

Hm.

[ He lets Sypha's hand on his jaw guide his head upward slightly, looking up at her as if she's the only thing worth looking at. His lips hang open slightly, eyes moving across her face, focusing on all the details one after the other rather than on the whole. And then, swallowing, he moves a hand from her waist, bringing it up to the topmost closed button of his shirt and rectifying that situation, pushing the collar to one side. and giving what's meant to be a smirk but comes off as a little too sincere. ]

Anything?

Hmmm.

[Her blue eyes are sharp and alight with mischief as she watches him look at her, lets him drink her down before letting her gaze be drawn to the motion of his hand and the implication inherent in what it does.]

I am not much of a traditionalist.

[But she puts a hand on his shoulder anyway, pressing him back a little more firmly into the back of the couch, and slides so that it's easier for her to bend down and reach him — still something of a feat, given the way she's sitting on him, but none too impossible so long as she's careful not to lose her balance and topple off of him.

Once he's been sufficiently pushed, her fingers of the same hand trace down to dip below his opened collar, finding the place that's the mirror of where he'd bitten her and tracing a light circle against it.]

Here?

There, yeah.

[ His hand returns to her, combing his fingers through her hair softly before moving back to where it was, and he holds her sides to take her weight just in case she does lose her balance. He's slowly fading into that soft, heavy-eyed state that tie with the two of them tends to reduce him to. ]

'f you like I'll tell you how you do, compared to vampires.

[ Not that any vampire bits he has received have ever been great, but- ]

Should I pretend to be one, for best comparison?

[She giggles softly, then pulls her lips back slightly and approximates a hiss that she must've heard at some party or another, for how technically tonally accurate it is albeit losing quite a bit coming out of a mouth with a distinct lack of actual fangs as a threat to back it up.]

Ooooo, Trevor Belmont of the house of Belmont, I am going to suck your blooooood.

[Who's been hitting the shitty vampire romance novels lately? THIS GUY.]

And perhaps some other things, too.

[So she says, almost like an afterthought, as she bends down and nuzzles her nose against his collarbone slowly enough that he can track the movement easily, and not be startled by it.]

[ He cackles at that, bending his head down to watch her movement and kiss the top of her head. ]

Can honestly say none of them ever said that second part.

[ The bloooooood part, though, that happened. ]

Just a moment.

[ He reaches back for one of Alucard's coats draped over the back of the couch, pulling it away and wrapping it about Sypha's shoulders. ]

-better. You have to have a cape.

Mm!

[She laughs, delighted, at the sudden drape of cloth over her shoulders, and reaches back to one-handed try to flip up the collar so that it sits raised around the back of her head, more in the style of a cloak than of a coat.]

Ooooo, Trevor Belmont, I'll suck you dry before you can whip me.

[She stops short, brow furrowing, as her face assumes a quizzical expression.]

...That really does sound like one of those terrible novels, doesn't it?

Oh my, oh no! Whatever shall I do?

[ His frightened maiden voice is terrible. He's trying very hard not to laugh throughout it and breaks by the end, holding tightly to his tiny vampire so that he doesn't knock her to the side with the force of it. ]

Shit, it really does. [ He leans up to kiss her. ] You should tell stories, you know. Sounds like you'd be good at it.

[ Trevor Belmont, stater of the obvious, deduces that speakers are good at telling stories. ]

[Good job, Trevor, you did it, you correctly identified one of her professional life skills. His laughter is absolutely infectious, though, and she has to take a moment out from being kissed so that the giggling has a chance to get free before she moves back in again to resume it.]

Keep doing that voice. I like it.

[It's HORRIBLE. This time, when her hand goes to the hair at the back of his head, it's a little less gentle, and doesn't so much stroke as twist a handful of his hair between her fingers, using it as leverage to get him to bare more of his throat and arch up his chest to make it easier for her to get to.]

Time to feel my bite, Trevor Belmont.

[Like him, she starts slow, kissing first where she intends to put her mark so that he can feel it coming, then gradually adding teeth. At first it's only a scrape; the next time, they catch and release; the next, they catch and hold, adding pressure until she can feel how the edges of her teeth are starting to make marks in his skin.]

Oh no! Oh noooooooo-!

[ He stops only when she grabs his hair, and his head follows her hand with only enough resistance to keep the sensation of it being tugged. The flush never quite left his face but it still manages to return the a vengeance, and the laughter comes slower, more breathless. ]

Woe is me, at the mercy of the great and terrible Sypha! Whatever will happen to me-?

[ This time, he’s cut off by the third bite, by the sting of it combined with the knowledge that it’s coming from the last person who would ever hurt anyone. It’s the dissonance there that gets to him, making it feel like this situation must be perfectly under control, that nothing could possibly happen unless Sypha willed it. ]

[It's actually sort of fun to bite him, she discovers, less because the act of biting itself really does anything for her, and more just because she likes the reactions she gets when she does it. She can feel his heart beating, and the heat simmering beneath his skin, and if it weren't for the addition of all their laughing to keep things light and bubbly, she could easily see how this might turn deep and passionate in a hurry.

They both have their scars, she knows. Trevor has so many more than she does, but she's not free of them either. Maybe there's something to the idea of putting a mark on him for reasons other than hurt and danger — one he wanted, amidst laughter. One that made his pulse race like this.

It's on her second pass over that notion that she realizes that yes, that is what she finds most enticing about the prospect. She's going to see her bruise in the morning and remember immediately how Trevor put it there, but tomorrow he's going to see hers too, and remember who he belongs to.

Now that is a very nice thought.]

You'll be mine forever, is what will happen.

[She mumbles, making sure the mark of her teeth will last before drawing back a little and running her tongue over it, soothing where the bite had once been sharp.]

[ He notices the problem here when he can't break character to make a comment about being hers. Which is a funny enough dire situation to be in that he can't bring himself to complain. He can talk this time, at least, so he can just ask her to revoke the command once this is done. ]

Alas! How terrible a fate, to be claimed by the cutest vampire! What sorrow!

[ And he removes a hand from her waist, tilting her head up to kiss her before grinning, lifting her up to deposit her onto the couch next to him. ]

I must flee!

[ And he's off, Not Running Very Quickly for reasons that include wanting to be caught and not wanting to slip from running around in his socks. ]

[That...is not what's supposed to happen here, actually, and he catches her by such surprise that she actually doesn't even think to protest a bit until he's placed her on the couch and gotten up to flee, because that's how long it takes for her admittedly hazy thoughts to catch up with precisely what it is he's done.

(...In fairness, she gets hung up a little bit on how easily he just catches hold of her and moves her like it's nothing, how it makes her altogether too conscious of just how wide and steady his hands are when he wraps them around her, and so for a few seconds she's a very cute vampire vanquished by a Belmont in an utterly novel way, defeated by the cunning strategy of being kind of turned on at the effortless way he's able to manhandle her.)

But then he's fleeing — or, well. "Fleeing" — and it occurs to her that a vampire would not let her prey elude her so easily, and so she wriggles off the couch and onto her feet and deftly avoids crashing into the coffee table where their wine has been abandoned in favor of scooting off after him.]

Youuuu will never escape the call of the darkness!

[She says, a little too loudly, with her hands raised and held in vaguely claw-like shapes as she follows him.]

The teeth of the night! The claim of the...me!

How? How can I escape the terrible call of the Sypha?

[ In hindsight, perhaps dashing back toward the bedroom would be more appropriate, but he's already picked a direction and so he's running toward the front of the castle, toward the front doors. He won't go as far as the office. Even now, not getting this silliness mixed up with work is important.

Which does mean that he runs out of space to run. He backs up against the door to the front area of the castle, looking around in what looks convincingly enough (maybe) like an attempt to find an escape route but is absolutely trying to figure out whether to run back in the other direction or let Sypha catch him. ]

How terrible! Isn't there any way out?

There is not!

[So she calls triumphantly, pleased to see that Trevor has paused at the end of a long stretch of advantageously hardwood floor, which also means that she can dramatically get a solid quasi-running start and slide the rest of the way after him such that her makeshift cape produces a fairly nice billowing effect from the pace.

It's only slightly ludicrous, the idea of her actually managing to back him up against the door and pin him there in terms of strength and body frame alone, but really, what part of this isn't ludicrous anymore, all things considered.]

I have you now, Belmont. I had my taste of you once; now I see you are far too delicious to let go of.

[So she says, as she puts her weight into bending him back against the door, mouth already seeking out his throat with her teeth slightly bared for theatrical effect.]

[Alucard went out not in the car, but in the usual dramatic vampire way, which was to say he figured out one of his father's spells for traveling like lightning, and it's good when he doesn't feel like driving. He liked it much better than fire, which was how his father projected his authority to the world, even if was exhausting.

The vampire lands on the front step with a final flash of light, and that signals just as Sypha gets Trevor back against the door.

It also means that the vampire opens the door just a moment later, reeking of ozone and the usual bit of char that he has whenever he travels like this, he is treated to the goddamn weirdest sight he's seen in a while. Trevor's underneath Sypha, Sypha's got her mouth on or near or something involved with Trevor's throat, and the whole damn thing looks like a disaster pile. Sypha also seems to have one of his coats on as a cape, and...

...and he just stares.]

What the fuck.

[ So his yelp of surprise when the door gives way behind him and he tumbles backward comes out as a girlish squeal, which just makes him wish he were a little drunker so he wouldn't be quite so embarrassed about it. He falls into Alucard's chest, and fortunately even exhausted he's probably able to take both of their weight easily.

And he grins up at Alucard. ]

What misfortune! What dreadful luck! How ill fated I, trapped between the great and terrible Sypha and her most trusted ally?

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