noooo wait that last reblog got me really emotional over me and clancy....because sniffles!
we always planned to run away together! we talked about it endlessly in DEMA, holding hands in one of our bedrooms whispering what we though the world outside would be like. Seeing the sky for the first time.
And we DID oh. We ran and it was so beautiful and wonderful and terrible but we were TOGETHER and I thought we always would be...then he becomes a Bishop ohhh tears up
waking up in the morning with Nova, and she traces her fingers on my bare back while waiting for me to wake up. just admiring the shape and bumps and scars I have.....she kisses my neck and my shoulders and whispers how much she loves me....and when i wake up and try to kind of mumble a good morning she giggles and snuggles me harder
For Kit, uncomfortable is an understatement when it comes to describing the first 24 hours of her new vampirism. It comes with a lot of hardships. Growing pains, however, is something she didn't expect.
Pairing: Damon Salvatore x Self Insert (Kit) (Established relationship - Post vampirism)
Word count: 2,129
Author's note: Made this post yesterday and it's been rattling around in my head since... So I wrote about it. This came out way longer than I originally planned oops! Vampire biology is soooo interesting to me, and I feel like TVD didn't go into the full potential. A lot of the stuff in here is based on HCs I have, so it isn't totally canon-compliant. There are no canon spoilers within this story, however it does take place around mid-S5 in the canon timeline!
Divider credit.
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The first twenty four hours of being dead were, frankly, absolute bullshit.
Kit sat slumped on a stool at the kitchen island, the side of her face pressed flat against the cool, dark granite. The kitchen used to be a quiet solace for her. Now, to her newly turned senses, everything was loud. The hum of the fridge sounded like a generator running directly against her skull. The overhead light was buzzing as if a swarm of bees were circling her head.
The noise wasn't the worst part. The newly burning thirst wasn't even the worst part right now. The worst part was her mouth.
A dull, relentless throbbing radiated through her upper gums, settling right behind her incisors. It felt tight and swollen, like her teeth were too big for her jaw and were actively fighting for space. She groaned, pressing the heel of her hand against her mouth. She tried to rub the ache away through her teeth. It didn't help. Nothing helped.
Footsteps echoed from down the hall, getting closer. They sounded like gunshots to her sensitive hearing.
Damon leaned against the kitchen doorframe. His arms were crossed over his chest, taking in her slumped, pathetic posture. A slow, obnoxious smirk tipped the corner of his mouth. "Buyer's remorse already?"
Kit squeezed her eyes shut. "Shut up."
Her voice came out muffled against her hand. She sounded whiny. She hated it. A day into eternity and she was already complaining. She felt pathetic.
Damon pushed off the doorframe and closed the distance between them. "Not exactly the glorious transition into immortality that you pictured, huh? I did warn you."
"I didn't think my teeth would hurt," she grumbled, finally lifting her head from the counter. She glared at him, pulling her hand away from her jaw. "My mouth hurts, Damon. Like, really bad."
The flush on her round cheeks betrayed her embarrassment. She was supposed to be adjusting, taking this in stride. Instead she was pouting over a damn toothache.
Damon's smirk softened into something a little less teasing and more genuine. He stepped into her personal space, hands finding her waist. His fingers dug into her soft hips. Without a word of warning, he hoisted her up.
Kit gasped, grabbing his shoulders to steady herself as he lifted her off of the stool and sat her squarely on the edge of the kitchen counter. He stepped between her legs, crowding her in. Kit wrapped her legs around his narrow waist, her ankles locking. Despite feeling like a stranger in her own body, Damon still felt familiar. Safe. It was grounding.
She pouted at him. "Don't laugh at me."
"I'm not laughing at you." He wasn't, but his blue eyes were dancing with amusement. He rested his hands lightly on her thighs, his thumbs rubbing small circles. "You'll get used to it. Give it a few days. Your teeth are literally rearranging themselves right now."
"Rearranging?" Kit frowned, the ache pulsing in time with her heartbeat. "Gross."
Damon shrugged, nonchalant. "Your fangs need somewhere to sit when they're not out. Takes a couple days for the tissue to move around and make room." He tilted his head, his gaze dropping to her lips. "Let me see."
Kit shook her head, pressing her lips together tightly. "No."
"Kit."
"I look stupid," she mumbled, her face burning hotter. Her emotions were completely haywire today.
Damon signed, an exaggerated, long sound. He moved his hand up from her thigh, his long fingers cupping her jaw. His thumb rested just below her lower lip.
"Please?" he said.
She held out for another second, her stubborn streak warring with her innate desire to give in to him. she grumbled something unintelligible, letting her jaw drop open.
"Atta girl," he murmured.
Damon tilted her head back slightly, catching the overhead kitchen light. Kit felt absurd, like she was at a dentists appointment. She sat perfectly still as his eyes darted over her upper gums, his expression turning clinical for a brief second.
"Looks fine to me," he hummed. "Exactly what a baby vamp's mouth should look like."
"Doesn't feel fine," she said, though it was mostly garbled since his fingers were in her mouth.
"I know."
Then, without any warning, his thumb and index finger pressed firmly against her upper gumline, right above her incisors. The pressure was immense.
Kit gasped. The reaction was entirely involuntary. A heavy, dark rush of adrenaline spiked down her spine. A sickeningly yet satisfying, visceral shhhhk echoed loudly inside of her skull as her fangs tore cleanly through her gums, her incisors and canines dropping down to their full, lethal length. The sensitive skin directly under her eyes tightened, burning hot as the dark, intricate web of veins pulsed forcefully to the surface. He pupils blew wide, swallowing the color of her irises. Every muscle in her body went rigid.
She stared at Damon, horrified.
Damon let out a low, deeply appreciative whistle, pulling his fingers back from her mouth slightly.
"Glad to know that still works," he teased.
Kit scowled at him, the veins under her eyes fading, though her fangs remained firmly in place. She felt thoroughly exposed. "You're an asshole," she hissed. Her teeth felt massive and foreign in her mouth, completely altering the shape of her words. She had a bit of a lisp.
"I've been called worse. By you, in fact," he dismissed easily, his amusement only growing.
He shifted his thumb, lightly tracing over the smooth, flat edge of one of her fangs. The point was razor sharp. He dragged the pad of his thumb gently along the tip, testing the edge of it against his own skin.
Kit squirmed, her legs tightening around his waist. The sensation was bizarre. Her fangs were hyper-sensitive, deeply connected to a raw nerve cluster she still hadn't gotten used to. It didn't hurt, really, it just felt like too much input.
"They look good on you," he said softly. The teasing edge was gone from his voice completely and was replaced by something darker, heavier.
Kit felt her face burn even hotter. A flare of defensive defiance sparked in her chest. As his thumb rested on the tip of her fang, she bit down just enough to catch the meat of his digit between her teeth. A playful warning.
Damon didn't flinch. Instead, he chuckled, pulling his thumb free. A small bead of crimson welled up on the skin.
"Feisty," he teased, his eyes practically dancing. "Careful, sweetheart. You don't know how to use those things yet."
Kit huffed angrily, folding her arms over her chest and turning her head away. She decided she was done with this exhibition. She went to pull the fangs back, to retract them. She focused on the physical sensation, the way Damon had explained to her yesterday. It was supposed to be just like flexing a muscle.
Nothing happened.
She furrowed her brows, trying again. Her eyes squeezed shut as she concentrated hard on her jaw. Go away.
The sharp tips remained firmly pressed against her lower lip.
Damon watched her struggle. He leaned in slowly, his face inches from hers. "Having trouble?" he asked, his voice a mocking whisper.
Kit's stomach dropped. A sudden, sharp spike of panic hit her chest. It wasn't like her usual anxiety, the slow, creeping feeling she was used to as a human. This was different. It hit her fast, and it was overwhelming, tearing through her.
She looked at Damon, her eyes frantic. She tried to pull them back again. They wouldn't budge.
"Damon," she managed to say, her voice catching. "They won't go back."
Damon's amused expression faltered slightly. He met her wide, panicked eyes. "You're trying too hard. Just relax your jaw."
"I am relaxing!" Her breathing hitched, her chest rising and falling too fast. She was not relaxing. She was getting worse. "They're stuck. Why are they stuck? Oh my god, what if they're stuck like this forever?"
Hearing herself speak only made it worse, her voice not sounding like itself. Her thoughts spiraled instantly. She was going to be stuck looking like this. She wouldn't be able to talk right ever again. She was going to accidentally bite her own tongue off. She sheer volume of her emotions felt like they were suffocating her, pressing down on her lungs until she couldn't pull a full breath in.
Her hands flew up, covering her mouth in horror. She tried to pull away from him, a desperate urge to run and hide.
"Hey," Damon caught her wrists. He didn't let her pull back. "Quit it."
"They're stuck!" she repeated, her voice muffled by her hand. The veins under her eyes flared up again, her new instincts realizing that flight was not a possibility, so fight was the next option.
"They're not stuck, sweetheart, you're just spinning out," he said flatly, pulling her hands down and pinning them flat against his chest. "Stop overthinking it. You're working yourself up."
"I can't—"
"Yes, you can."
His voice remained firm. He wasn't teasing her anymore, realizing it probably wasn't helping with her panic. He kept one hand firmly over hers, trapping them against the solid wall of his chest. His other hand moved to the back of her neck. His fingers slipped under her short brown hair. He pulled her forward slightly, forcing her to lean into him.
"Focus," he ordered. "Drop your shoulders."
Kit shuddered, but she did what he said. The tension in her shoulders melted just a fraction.
"Good girl. Now stop trying to force it." His thumb stroked the skin at the base of her skull. It was a slow, repetitive motion. He kept his eyes locked on hers, giving her an anchor in the middle of the storm in her brain. "Just relax. Focus on me."
She squeezed her eyes shut again, focusing entirely on Damon. The feeling of his hands on her. The heat of his body pressing into her. The heavy, steady beat of his heart under her palms, and how his chest expanded with each breath. She tried to match him, breathing deeply.
The frantic, vibrating energy in her limbs began to dissipate. The overwhelming terror drained away, leaving her exhausted.
The dull ache in her gums shifted. The sharp pressure vanished, replaced once again by the throbbing ache she had woken up with this morning.
She opened her eyes. Damon was watching her intensely. He let out a soft breath, his thumb brushing her jawline.
"There you go," he said softly.
Kit slumped forward, her forehead dropping heavily against his shoulder. All the fight went out of her. She felt stupid. Damon was so experienced, and yet here he was needing to deal with a vampire who didn't even know how to use her own teeth.
"I hate this," she whispered into his shirt. "I feel crazy."
"You're newly turned," Damon stated, his arms coming around her properly now. He wrapped her in his arms, holding her close, his chin resting against the top of her head. "Everything is sort of out of whack right now. It'll level out. Promise."
She turned her face into his neck, breathing in his scent. It was stronger now, but still familiar. She tightened her arms and legs around him, clinging to him. "Sorry I freaked out…" She mumbled into his skin.
Damon's hand rubbed along her back. "Don't apologize. It's only day one. You're allowed to be a little crazy on day one."
Kit scoffed weakly, pulling back to look at him. "Only on day one?"
"Maybe day two." He smirked, reaching up to brush a stray piece of hair out of her eyes. His expression softened, the arrogance bleeding away into quiet devotion. "You're doing fine, sweet girl. Mouth still hurt?"
"Yeah." She frowned.
"Want a blood bag? It'll help take your mind off the pain."
She considered it for a moment. She already fed last night, but more blood this morning couldn't hurt. Plus, she was a little thirsty…
She nodded slowly. "Okay."
"Okay." Damon didn't immediately let her go. He leaned in, pressing a firm, lingering kiss to her forehead. "I love you. Even when you're whiny."
Kit rolled her eyes, but a small smile finally broke through. "I love you too. Jerk."
He chuckled, giving her hips one last squeeze before stepping back. He turned towards the fridge to get her a blood bag.
Kit watched him, a warm feeling filling her chest. She knew this wasn't going to be easy, but Damon was here to help her through it. He was going to take care of her. She'll be okay as long as he was around.
For the first time all morning, the kitchen didn't seem quite so overwhelmingly loud.
