#quincey time travel au | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

kouvei · 1 year

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So the Vampire Polycula AU has officially become my NaNo project. The first chapter has ended up being very long so this is all I have coherently done so far.

Jonathan Harker awoke crying. The fangs at his neck still sank deep, lips caressing his neck as blood forcefully exited his veins, and a metallic taste in his mouth as blood was forced in. He couldn’t make sense of time since he felt the sharp bite, just a nonlinear mess of anguish and useless struggling. He thought he could see Jack sometimes, and Quincey, but it all blurred in his mind.

The room was dark, but he could see fine, even though all he could muster up the strength for was turning his head slightly to the side. Cold permeated his bones like the chill of the grave, and his tired muscles found the strength to shiver.

Moving seemed a foreign idea. After what could’ve been mere minutes or hours of fighting, he was almost convinced if he even lifted his hand he’d feel the grip of a clawed hand on his wrist, nails digging into his skin as lips met his neck once more.

As if the thought alone summoned the action, a hand wrapped around his. He recoiled, hand flying away even as he knew he couldn’t fight, as he tried to withdraw into himself, put what little distance he could between them.

A hand touched the side of his face, thumb running down his temple and a soft shushing accompanied the gesture as its originator found the strength to push off the ground and meet his gaze.

Mina’s eyes were tired, her face haggard and pale with stress and fear, hair loose, unwashed, and tangled. He didn’t question why she was here, just lifted his head to kiss her. A defeated kiss, an apology kiss, a desperate kiss, a last kiss, he didn’t know. It certainly felt like all of the above.

She pulled herself up just a little more then nearly collapsed on top of him, wrapping her arms around him, not pulling away for a second. He couldn’t feel his lungs burning, even as he knew he hadn’t come up for air in a long time. It was his no longer restrained sobs that eventually broke the embrace. Tears fell cold and fast, mouth twisting into an expression of agony as he bowed his head, crying into her shoulder. It didn’t take long until he heard his dear Mina’s cries join his.

Time flowed like molasses, trickling onward as if a river of honey as tears gave way to exhaustion, to quiet defeat. They failed, they all failed. A short travel delay and one second. One second was all it took to cut the difference between ending this nightmare and letting it grow, fester, and continue. One second too slow, one second too late. His knife was at his throat, Quincey’s hovered over his heart. Then they weren’t. Then all blurred.

He didn’t know where he was, he didn’t know why he yet lived. He didn’t know why Mina was here. He didn’t know what became of Quincey, Jack, Arthur, or Professor Van Helsing. He wasn’t sure if he had the strength to investigate. He wasn’t sure if he had the strength to apologize to Mina for failing her, even though he screamed his regrets with his fingers playing with and untangling her hair, and she denied his apologies with her thumb moving in circles about his temples.

Their silent vigil gave way to sudden vigilance as they heard a sharp inhale, followed by hyperventilating. Mina pushed herself up first and helped Jonathan as he tried to join her, even though neither could do much more than just lift their heads and upper bodies toward the noise. Jonathan’s fear both gave way and increased as he saw Jack Seward, eyes wide with terror and horror, frantically grasping at his chest as his breaths came shallow and quick. In the dark room, his eyes reflected what little light there was, much like a cat’s. Or, and the thought came unbidden and sent shivers wracking his body, like those scarlet eyes of the Count.

He heard a sharp thud from the other side of the room, followed by a muttering of, “Dagummit!” and pushed himself up, strength slowly beginning to return. Quincey Morris was trying to force himself up off the floor by his forearms, having fallen off the stone slab he had been lying on. “Jack! You alright?”

“Q- Quincey?” Jack’s voice was shaky, and he was clearly struggling to get over even the two syllables in the Texan’s name.

“Right here, partner.” A forced smile made its way onto his face, but he was unable to keep it up for longer than a second, as Jonathan watched his expression morph into a pained grimace.

“Don’t push yourself,” Mina warned. Her voice sang like gospel in Jonathan’s ears, a promise that everything wasn’t as hopeless as he believed.

“Madame Mina!” Quincey apparently thought so as well, turning his head toward her voice, eyes brighter than they were a second ago, until the implications caught up with his brain and his expression turned to angry defeat. “Damn it, damn him!”

“Quincey, Mina.” Jack’s voice shook with fear.

“Right here, Jack!” Quincey called back, trying to drag himself along the cobblestone floor. “We’re here, give me two shakes and I’ll get over to you.”

“Quincey, I can’t hear my heartbeat.”

Quincey froze in his efforts and Jonathan heard silence. Nothing thudded in his ears, Mina’s pulse did not thrum under his fingers, and Quincey’s fingers feeling across his own chest and neck did nothing to stop the growing look of horror in the American’s eyes.

Jonathan opened his mouth just enough to run his tongue across his upper teeth, where it caught on the sharp fangs where his regular human canines once sat. He covered his mouth, thoughts racing, tears renewing in utter despair.

He was prepared to follow Mina if she fell to Dracula’s corruption, if the curse of vampirism had taken her whole. Her lips draining the last of his lifeforce would have been a welcome parting from his soul. He had not been prepared, not been willing to be taken by the Count. Never by him.

But the fangs in his mouth, the silence in his ears when his heart should be racing, the chill of death in his bones, the flashes of a predatory smile in his scattered memories, on the few instances that those lips weren’t ripping away everything in him, revealed reality, no matter how much he wanted to deny it.

The other three seemed to have come to the same realization: Mina with quiet grief and acceptance, Quincey with numb horror, Jack with a piercing scream.

The sound finally spurred some semblance of strength in his atrophied limbs and he found the strength to sit up, bracing Mina as she rested against him. Quincey seemed to have found even more strength, as he dashed over to Jack, grabbing him into a desperate hug while Jack screamed and cried into his chest.

After what felt like ages, Jack’s screaming subsided and Mina swung her legs off the stone slab. She swayed on her feet and Jonathan grabbed her by the shoulder to steady her, but she regained her balance soon enough, offering a hand to him, one he took gladly. Standing felt unnatural, as if he had just walked out of his own grave. He chose not to think about the accuracy of that statement.

Quincey’s eyes burned with hatred as he held Jack close to his chest, sitting on the stone altar. “Aristocratic undead bastard,” he snarled, fingers interlaced with Jack’s hair.

“Where’s Arthur? And the professor?” Mina asked.

“...present.”

They whipped their heads around to see Arthur Holmwood leaning against a pillar, eyes void of light and life, expression blank. He, more than anyone, looked like a dead man walking. Quincey’s expression shifted from righteous anger to anguish as he saw Arthur, and he held out one hand to him, the other arm occupied with holding Jack. Arthur stumbled forward, as if in a trance, then collapsed against Quincey. No tears fell from his eyes, and he barely reacted to the embrace Quincey pulled him into.

Mina sat down on the same slab as the other three, with Jonathan joining her as his legs started to give out again. “...do you feel normal?”

Jack shook his head, Quincey shot her a questioning gaze, and Arthur didn’t react. Jonathan’s first thought was that nothing in him felt anywhere close to normal, then the true extent of her question caught up to him and he nearly let out a sob of relief. “I… I still love you. I love all of you, I don’t want to kill, I don’t want—” The words choked in his throat. This. I don’t want this.

Quincey’s eyes lit up and a smile made its way onto his lips. “Still got our souls?” Jack shot a glance at them, the realization apparently calming him somewhat.

Arthur did not react, but whispered, as if not aware of his words, “Then why didn’t Lucy have hers?”

No one knew what to say to that. After a long era of silence, Jack finally spoke up. “Where’s Professor Van Helsing?”

Jonathan glanced around the room. It appeared to be a basement room, with several slabs of stone that seemed to serve as morgue slabs laid in two rows. Stone pillars erupted from the ground, all of a gothic design, from cobblestone floor to arched stone ceiling. The air was damp and cold around them, which had overtime saturated the unlit torches set in sconces on the walls, making the wood wet and porous. Despite there being absolutely no discernible source of light, he could see all of this as if it was just a dim room, and could see no trace of the doctor.

“Maybe he escaped?” Quincey suggested.

“Or Dracula didn’t want him,” Arthur muttered. “Or thought him to be too much trouble.”

“Come on, Art, don’t go inviting more misery than we’ve already got,” Quincey chastised, running his fingers through Arthur’s strawberry red locks. “The rest of us are here, we’re—” He was clearly about to say either “alive” or “not dead” but thought better of the idea. “We’re together, and that’s something.”

Jonathan leaned against the slab to steady himself and felt the holster of his knife bump against the stone. He felt for it, surprised to still have it, and was even more surprised when his fingers closed around the hilt of his kukri knife. He withdrew it, to make sure he wasn’t hallucinating, that it was really here. The other four stared at it as he did so, shock written on their faces. Quincey was the first to act, taking a hand off Jack and feeling around until he withdrew his own bowie knife, sheathed it again, then withdrew his Colt revolver, checked to see if it was loaded, and placed it back in its holster.

“Is that a mistake, or is he just playing with us?” Mina mused, checking her own revolver before stowing it away.

“Oh, it’s going to be a mistake,” Quincey promised. She gave him a slightly chastizing look but it was undermined by the smile playing at the corners of her mouth.

Jack felt around in his pockets and pulled out a scalpel. He started fiddling with it, as Jonathan had noticed him doing on more than one occasion, most notably when he was thinking or worrying. Even though watching him play with a blade in their current situation was worrying, it did seem to calm him down somewhat. Arthur still seemed dead to the world, even as Quincey pulled him closer. Without really thinking about it, Jonathan stumbled over to them and sat beside Arthur, holding his hand. Mina joined them, sitting beside Jack and leaning against his shoulder.

A loud bang made them all jump, causing Jack to slice his finger with the tip of the scalpel. Red blood dripped from the wound and he brought it up to his mouth, then realized what he had just done and jerked away in horror at the taste of blood, despite the action being a common one from when they were human— God, was that a terrible thought! When they were human!

The same bang sounded again, causing Jonathan to pull out his kukri knife. With a shared look, he, Mina, and Quincey rose. “Stay here, we’ll check it out,” Quincey ordered. Arthur grabbed his sleeve for a few seconds, before letting go. “Don’t do anything stupid,” he whispered, his voice flat yet still pleading.

“You mean like going after a centuries-old bloodsucker?” Quincey quipped. Arthur gave him a look. “I will do something less stupid than that,” he promised, stepping forward and pressing a kiss on Arthur’s forehead. The act made Arthur freeze, his eyes widening, and even as his expression remained dead with despair Jonathan could see tears starting to form in his eyes.

Jack stood up shakily, trying to brace himself against the wall. “We shouldn’t split up,” he argued.

“You okay to walk?” Quincey asked.

He let out a desperate laugh. “Are any of us?”

That was an excellent point. Jonathan himself still didn’t feel too steady on his feet, and Mina had her hand against the wall to keep her balance. In a fight, they were not winning.

Another bang sounded and Arthur stood up, steadying himself on Quincey’s shoulder. The Texan opened his mouth, but Mina cut in. “Come on, we don’t want to get surprised. Besides, considering what happened when we split up last time…”

Quincey’s hand went to his neck, drawing Jonathan’s attention to sharp puncture marks in his neck. “Well, how about y’all stand back? Madam Mina and I have our pieces if we need to keep some distance.” Mina nodded and that seemed to everyone to be an acceptable plan so, with that in mind, they stumbled toward the noise, following the wall for stability.

Their smaller room opened into a larger one, with hallways like catacombs leading off in different directions. In the center lay a door, large and locked tight, and in front of it stood a man holding a shovel and trying to break the lock off. He had bright red hair, strong build, and was of medium height, with a broad chest and shoulders. A pair of spectacles poked out of his breast pocket along with a rosary.

Jack lost his balance, stumbling before catching himself, although after catching his expression, Jonathan got the impression that it was more out of shock than stiffness or weakness. The man didn’t seem to notice them, despite Jack making a decent amount of noise when he caught himself, and raised the shovel again, making it collide with the lock once again. Jonathan noticed a splash of blood against the metal, and realized he recognized that shovel, not that he needed more confirmation of where they were.

Quincey glanced at the others, looking for some indication of what to do. Jack’s expression was what he ended up latching onto as it was the only one with something besides uncertainty. He looked scared, but slightly relieved, like a child approaching their parent’s room in the dark after a nightmare, and took a few shaky steps forward. “Professor?”

The resemblance suddenly struck Jonathan and he covered his mouth in shock and horror. The man in front of them was some thirty or so years younger than Professor Van Helsing, but Jonathan had seen for himself how much younger Dracula had become once properly fed. He had to imagine being turned, having vampiric blood forced into you, had to have a similar effect.

Jack’s voice caused Van Helsing to stop and turn at last, apparently just noticing them. He opened his mouth to say something, then processed Jack’s expression, and dropped the shovel, closing the distance between them and letting Jack pull him into a hug.

“It will be—” He stopped suddenly, voice actually shaking. “It will be alright. Good boy. Brave boy.”

Quincey and Mina holstered their guns and Jonathan realized his kukri was halfway out of its sheath, his hand on the grip. While rectifying that, he asked, “Have you been awake for long?”

Van Helsing shook his head, looking defeated. “Not long. I awoke and saw the rest of you asleep. I… wasn’t sure how you’d wake.” They knew what he meant by his tone: he didn’t know if they’d become soulless monsters.

Jack hugged him tighter, enough that the professor reacted to the increase in pressure by letting out a sharp breath. Quincey ran his fingers through his hair. “Any luck with that?” he asked, gesturing to the shovel.

“Very little, but it’s the best tool here for it,” Van Helsing replied. “Perhaps there’s another exit deeper in, I haven’t yet gone that far from you.”

“This is the only one I know of,” Jonathan muttered, the constant chill in his bones somehow growing colder.

“So you do recognize it?” Van Helsing pressed. “The monster’s castle?” At Jonathan’s nod, he hissed in a breath. “Then the above will be just as inhospitable. Likely more.”

“And if there is another way out, Dracula would have already accounted for that,” Arthur muttered.

“A very good chance of it, yes,” Van Helsing agreed. “The monster has us trapped like hamsters.”

“I can’t feel him in my head anymore.” Mina crossed her arms and scrunched up her nose in thought. “But… it’s not as if the feeling’s completely gone.”

Quincey appeared deep in thought for a second, waited, then shrugged. “Well, I can’t feel what he’s feeling if he is in my head, so I reckon either he ain’t in there or he fixed that little bug.”

“What makes you think that?” Arthur murmured, his voice still flat.

“Because I reckon he’d take offense to being called a bitch.”

That finally got a reaction out of Arthur, as he choked on empty air, staring at Quincey like he was a madman, not that everyone else wasn’t having similar reactions. Finally, Van Helsing burst out laughing.

“Bravo, friend Quincey! Bravo!”

“I am begging you not to say that to his face,” Jack pleaded.

“If it wouldn’t get you killed, I’d beg you to say that to his face,” Jonathan countered with a desperate, bitter laugh.

Quincey rubbed his neck, fingers lingering on sharp fang marks. “Reckon he wouldn’t go to all this trouble just to off any of us for good right off the bat.” He paused. “Pun not intended but greatly appreciated.”

“No, he wouldn’t,” Jonathan muttered. “He’ll want to toy with us, keep us under his control, play his mind games, make this into a living hell.”

“Assuming he doesn’t have other plans in mind,” Mina added.

A solemn air descended upon them once again. Quincey braced himself against the wall, wobbling slightly, then sank to the floor. Mina rushed to his side, kneeling beside him but he waved her off. “Just a little faint, Madam Mina,” he assured her, smiling weakly. “I’ll be right as rain in a moment.”

“Don’t strain yourself,” she scolded, sitting beside him. “You’ll need your strength, we all will.”

Van Helsing pulled away from Jack’s embrace at her words and looked him over, placing both hands on his shoulders. “Friend John, how are you feeling?”

Jack put his face in one hand, shaking his head. “I don’t know.”

Van Helsing sighed and cupped his face. “Deep breaths, friend John, deep breaths.” He offered up a sad smile. “If anything, it is a blessing you’re ill at ease. If you felt nothing, or even glee at this fate…” He trailed off, the words catching in his throat.

The locked door behind them suddenly slammed open. Van Helsing didn’t hesitate in pushing Jack behind him as he turned to face the monster, while Quincey and Mina leapt to their feet.

Dracula just smiled, eyes scanning over each of them in turn. A sick glee gleamed in those red eyes, one which only increased Van Helsing stepped forward, further putting himself between the vampire and the rest of the group. Jonathan unsheathed his kukri, trying to be subtle about it, even as he knew it was a long shot, if even possible, to fell him with it now.

“My good doctor, what a pleasure to finally have a proper meeting.” Van Helsing, to his credit, stood firm and said nothing, glowering at the Count. Dracula, nevertheless, looked over his shoulder, eyes boring into Jonathan’s. “Are you happy to be back, my friend?”

#dracula #dracula bad ending #vampire polycula #dracula daily #jonathan harker #mina harker #quincey morris

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fezwearingjellybananas · 8 months

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I'm writing Flash (TV) fic and reading Dracula Daily and so here's a Flash Dracula AU that I'm not going to write:

(Warnings: Major Character Death, Child Death, Bad Doctoring. It's a Dracula AU)

Casting:

1. Kamilla Hwang as Mina Murray

Our opening character, currently holidaying in [Whitby] with a dear, dear friend of her fiancé who should be joining them any day now, but he doesn't seem to be sending any letters...

2. Caitlin Snow as Lucy Westenra

Wanted a nice relaxing time at the seaside really getting to know her bestie's new fiancée and thinking about her own upcoming wedding, but her mother is clearly trying to hide something and her own fiancé's father is ill and her best friend appears to be missing and now she appears to have fallen back into her old sleepwalking ways...

3. Cisco Ramon as Jonathan Harker

Kamilla's fiancé and recently made a full solicitor. This will be an easy first job they told him. Travel overseas, get some signatures on this paperwork, he'll be home in no time.

He has been having The Worst Month

4. Ronnie Raymond as Arthur Holmward

Caitlin's fiancé. Loves her so much. Would be with her but his dad's not been doing so well

5. Julian Albert as Quincey Morris

Adventurer. Ronnie's old bud. Also in love with Caitlin but just really, really happy for his friends. Down to shoot a bat.

6. Hunter Zoloman as Jack Seward

There's got to be a twist somewhere, right? He's the head of an asylum. He should not be in charge, really, especially not with that one patient he's dubbed his 'favourite'. Also in love with Caitlin. Bitter she did not choose him. But there's an idea for how to change their fates...

7. Iris West as Abraham Van Helsing

Not a doctor but a journalist, Iris has ended up studying local legends and mythic creatures ever since the loss of her daughter and the rapid decline in her husband's health. She's something of a vampire expert- not that she believes in them, but understanding might give her a way to help her husband. She did not expect it to actually be practical knowledge, but then she hears from Zoloman about the state of his friend Caitlin and maybe there's some truth to the tales after all

8. Barry Allen as Renfield

The latest patient admitted to Zoloman's asylum and his latest source of fascination, Barry is convinced his mother was not murdered by his father but by some monstrous creature she managed to save eleven-year-old Barry from, but one he could not save his own daughter from, and Barry has sworn revenge. Probably has some pet spiders. He gets lonely. Doing some dubious science in his cell. Also gets bored and really, really wants to kill this one guy.

9. Eddie Thawne as Patrick Hennessey

Actually takes good care of everyone in the asylum. Feels bad for Barry. Hopefully someone will promote him when Zoloman winds up dead. Knows a little more than he's letting on

10. And, of course, Eobard Thawne as Dracula

A massive dick

Notes:

We get the reveals as Kamilla does- so what happened to Cisco at Castle Thawne when she reads Cisco's journal, what happened to Caitlin when she gets to read the notes, ect.

This includes the reveal Hunter Zoloman is the one working for Thawne

He's the one who lets Thawne into the asylum to go after Cisco- who was left behind out of concern for his mental health

Luckily Eddie had the bright idea to enlist Barry's help when he figured out what was going on

Zoloman had to bright idea to think Thawne would a) make him immortal and b) make Caitlin immortal and c) this would mean she'd pick him instead of Ronnie

Only Iris knows what this mysterious new "Killer Frost" wandering the nights is and stops her before she can kill anyone, with help from Ronnie and Julian

Barry does fight Thawne and gets very injured for his troubles. This means he's left behind with Eddie when the gang go on a "let's track down Eobard Thawne and murder him" quest, but he does live (it seems unfair for Iris to lose Nora and Barry)

Zoloman's like super dead though. Eobard kills him so he doesn't let any secrets slip not realising Zoloman went and recorded everything in his diary.

Caitlin's dead too. Sorry. Maybe she can be a ghost

Everyone gets a go at stabbing Eobard Thawne

#it's not got a lot of thought put into it #i'm not going to write anything i just had an idea that got stuck in my head #so now it is here written down and not in my head #and now back to gone in a flash #dc tv universe #dc #look i wrote a thing #ish #*

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