THIRST. @guiltfed - Tumblr Blog

It had been a long time since she heard his voice, let alone felt him. A century old shiver ran up Katherine's spine at the contact and there it was: that flutter in her chest. She looked up at him, a veil of innocence over the lustful gaze she wanted to give him. "Stefan." she breathed. She was pretending but so much of this was real. She reveled in the warmth of his breath against her hair, and then all of it came crashing down in a twist of her gut. He thought he was someone else. With a slow breath, Katherine turned to him, allowing her body to press into his. For a moment, she just looked at him. His dark hair, those green eyes. She allowed herself a simple second to feel, to enjoy the way he was looking at her. Just like he used to. Elena better enjoy the two of them, after all they would have never blinked at her twice if she weren't wearing Katherine's face. "Run away? From you?" she smiled at the irony. "Never." Katherine put her hand on his face, tracing his plush lower lip with her thumb and then she went in for a kiss.

guiltfed

the awareness washes over him with all the grace of a car crash. it begins with the scent of her — so familiar in an entirely different way to elena that it makes his head spin, practically a dizzy spell, the very same that used to cling to his sheets, to his clothes. it's the way her body molds too perfectly against his with this confident, practiced ease, remorseless about any potential voyeurs in the crowd. it's the enjoyment dancing in her eyes, it's the too-sweet lilt in her voice he always fell so hard for, it's the exact way she holds his face (just like she used to), touches his mouth (just like she used to), tilts her head just so as she leans in. as she leans in.

stefan snaps into action. there are too many people around and who knows how many eyes on them, so he doesn't physically throw her against the closest wall the way his instincts yearn to. instead his fingers dig into her hair and pull, twists her lips off course from their destination, delivers his so close to her ear they nearly brush. raw emotion lowers his voice into something close to a snarl. "katherine."

#piercedfury #GOODBYYYYYYYE

piercedfury

The Carnival, what a perfect setting for a bunch of clowns. Mystic Falls had barely changed, they were still up to the same small town routine and it bored her to death. Tonight was important though, and she wasn't about to leave with out getting what she wanted.

Katherine's hair was its natural dark brown and pin straight, not a look she enjoyed but she had to play the part. Elena this, Elena that--her face hurt from the fake smiles she had been giving out. She was ready to be done, but there was work to do. Stefan and Damon were smart, she needed to rile them up if she was going to pull anything off under her noses. If she had it her way, Elena would have been dead as a doorknob already, but she needed the little brat for Klaus' ceremony. And she would be damned if she wasted an opportunity like this. The idea of not having to look over her shoulder at every scratch on the walls...the freedom--she could practically taste it. Sweeter than any blood.

With a tiny little sigh, Katherine plucked at her giant cloud of cotton candy and surveyed the crowd. Who to play with next?

guiltfed

"i was starting to think you ran away." the tease is accompanied by his hand finding her hip, sliding across to settle at the small of her back as he moves to stand beside her. won't give too much of it away, but she'd almost genuinely made him nervous. being unable to find her in this crowd, with everything that's been happening lately, all the death, all the untrustworthy faces in town at this point... it's all stefan can do just to keep elena close, keep her safe. (feels a little like he's to blame for introducing these dangers into her life, anyway.)

he leans in a hair closer, lips quirking at her snack before his gaze finally flicks to meet hers. "are you sharing that, or are you going to make me work for it?"

#piercedfury #i'm sickened

melancholiias

the length of their romance did not align with its intensity. after years of being in a gentle lull with matt, dating stefan was like diving into the deep end. elena had already been in a free fall; even after the gilbert's car had hit the water, she had been unable to rid herself of the feeling that comes with an unexpected plummet. her life had been entirely in flux, unstable and chaos brimmed. then, stefan had come to town.

in all honesty, he hadn't made her life any less chaotic. between his callous brother and the ex-girlfriend who shockingly resembled elena, things were more complicated then ever. she'd never imagined a world of vampires and fangs and stakes— let alone in the sleepy town of mystic falls. stefan's supernatural status was a hurdle, but not one elena thought to be impossible. she loved him. somehow, in the middle of her mess, she had found time to find a love that she hadn't expected. it terrified her, but fear was nothing new these days. besides, there wasn't only fear. there was a sense of familiarity and belonging that had allowed her space to figure out who she was in the aftermath of losing everything she knew. elena wasn't the same person she had been, the same daughter her parents had known. a part of her mourned the fact that they'd never meet the new her, and she hoped one day she could be someone they'd be proud of. in quiet moments like these, she almost felt like she was on the path to becoming that girl again.

as the movie doned on, elena couldn't help but chuckle slightly as she shrugged a shoulder. "i mean, based on your taste in music...." she teased back. levity almost felt wrong in the wake of everything they'd been through. stefan's recent struggles had not been cast from elena's mind. if anything, she was all too aware of them. their date almost felt like an exercise in playing pretend, but they had to start somewhere. he could beat this. they were stronger than the thirst that scratched his throat...right?

pushing the thought from her mind, elena nodded solemnly and held up a pinkie. "no laughing. and mine? what if i told you i was too indecisive? like, i have a favorite movie to watch with caroline, one i'd watch with my mom. like, we used to watch romeo & juliet together. the old one with leonardo dicaprio? i loved how sad it was. i wanted to write something moving like that." back then, sadness was something that existed on screen. it wasn't lived, wasn't inhabited. it didn't color her days.

guiltfed

"wow. what did my taste in music ever do to you?" he curls a pinkie carefully around hers, though. lets that simple touch linger. this is where his smile appears the most effortlessly. in this room, with this girl, right now. it feels important to soak it in, to not let himself forget it. with the way damon looks at her, with the past always dwelling in the back of his mind, with the constant dangers lately... it can be too easy to forget. he wants to savor this.

"romeo and juliet was great, i can't blame you. that'd be a really good answer if i wasn't slightly worried about how much you love sad things. blink twice if i need to rescue you from a marley and me dvd." he only releases her pinkie so he can lift a finger, gently run it over her head, guide her hair out of the way without any hurry. presses a soft tap, tap against her temple. murmurs, "do me a favor and don't stop writing. there's plenty of moving thoughts in here; you'll find the words eventually."

maybe it's a little ridiculous how invested he's come to be in all the smallest things about elena gilbert. but he loves her, right down to those nonsensical details. the way her favorite movie changes based on who she's spending time with, the way she poses a pinkie swear with perfect sincerity like it's second nature, every tiny mannerism when she speaks, when she laughs, when she sighs. he's bursting at the seams with it. and it's more than enough to make him finally admit, "my favorite's the notebook."

#melancholiias

are you still in love with katherine?

"i don't want to be." his pause is heavy, inflected with a century of regret. "i found out who she really is. what she's capable of. and i learned what something real feels like." elena is everything katherine sold herself as, and everything katherine could never manage to truly be. the contrast is vital, urgent, impossible to ignore. but... is it ever simple to overcome your first love, much less one who made you? will he ever really be able to shake the comparison, to be able to see elena entirely on her own, as she is, without katherine's shadow looming in the background? that's the uncertainty. the part he'd rather not think about. "whatever part of me does still love her is at least smart enough now not to do anything about it."

#anon night.#stefan muttering to himself in his bedroom at 3am vibes

Does it make you feel better? Pointing the finger at Damon. Meanwhile, you have an entire cemetery to answer to...

"it's never made me feel better. i know what i've done. i know i have everything to answer for. but damon's still burning down the world around him half the time; he's still trying to become the monster i used to be. i can't turn a blind eye to that. i can't ignore anyone going down that road." he just wishes he knew how to do something meaningful about it. how to let go of the resentment, the betrayal, the everything between them and learn how to resolve this the right way.

if there's anyone who can get through to damon, to the man who used to write letters to a little brother back in very simple, very human days who'd have done anything to have him home again, it isn't stefan. he's already found that out the hard way.

#anon night.

for anon night !

stefan salvatore. tyler lockwood. bonnie bennett. scott mccall.

#anon night.#stay safe stay sane xoxo

melancholiias

@guiltfed

casual. simple. laid back. it was a series of words that elena had not heard for a long time. nothing was simple, casual was a thing of the past— and laid back? all but unheard of now. but still, they tried. there was popcorn, there was soda. there was a movie on that elena found she couldn't bring herself to fully pay attention to. instead, her eyes kept sliding over to take in stefan's profile where he sat beside her on the couch. having their shoulders touch felt reassuring. anchoring, even. for a moment, elena almost felt like it was okay to exhale.

finally dropping the pretense of focusing, she turned to stefan. "i don't think i've ever asked. do you have a favorite movie?"

guiltfed

it feels good. or at least as close to it as stefan can get, under the circumstances, after everything. the pleasant hum of the movie he's only half listening to and the steady rhythm of elena's heart. the smell of her shampoo, of her. the warmth of her shoulder where it rests against his, even more of a comfort than it is a temptation today. that's the thing about elena, isn't it? where so many others might make his hunger loud, might get his thoughts racing, she usually manages to quiet it all down with no effort at all. the lighthouse in the fog.

it's almost enough to distract the low, nagging voice in the back of his mind: should she even be alone with you anymore?

when she finally turns to him (and he sees it coming, notices all her little glances from his peripheral, her similar lack of attention) the corner of his mouth flicks upward, his body shifting slightly to mimic her. "you're expecting something a few decades old, right?" it's a tease, lightly performed as he considers the question. "i'll tell you on two conditions. one, you can't laugh at me. and two, you have to tell me yours first."

#melancholiias #BABIES...

bourbonblooded

@guiltfed

When Damon was human he thought vampirism was the key to everything. In a lot of ways, he hadn't been entirely wrong. Strength, power, influence over others, and most seductive of all: walking free of the chains that bound the rest of humanity. He couldn’t remember the last time he labored for money, he didn't answer to any government, he killed whoever he wanted when he wanted, and none of these things were of any consequence to him. Ever.

But, as it turns out, immortality is a bigger bitch than hindsight. There were just some things even eternity can't outrun. Rather, turned your ghosts into solid stone, built to last the sands of time for as long as your body did. Every where he stepped, all of Damon’s faults and fears lingered in his shadow, nibbling little chunks out of him like open mouthed fish at the edge of a creek. The thing is, Damon already hated himself in his human life. His father had been very skilled at making him believe there was something inherently wrong with him, so, for Damon--the transition into a monster was never much of a fall from grace at all. Rather, slipping into a form that finally fit.

As usual, Damon and Stefan could not have been more opposite in this.

Where Damon felt at home with a sharp set of teeth and the monster in the mirror, his brother was desperate to file them off: enough to crucify and bleed himself dry, if only someone would tell him he was good. Whatever that word means. Damon had spent years chewing on it. He knew he wasn’t good, not in the sense that most people meant it, but he knew this was about choices. Sometimes he chose to make the right ones, but most of the time he didn’t see any point in bothering—especially when there was often no good deed gone unpunished. Who was he trying to prove himself to anyway? An invisible judge, jury, and executioner ? God ? please. If the bible had any truth to it there would be a vampire out there old enough to tell it. And, even then, he really wasn’t sure he’d care.

He supposed that was what was so annoying about Stefan’s martyrdom, running to confess each and every sin. There was no hell to go to, so he would build one right here on earth to blister in for all of eternity. And that would have been fine, except he wanted Damon to take his hand and stand atop the pyre with him, only to condemned him when he didn’t. Damon didn’t know what it was about Stefan that made him a ripper, and he wouldn’t pretend to understand the kind of bloodlust he struggled with, but he would not hate himself further just to prove he was worthy being loved.

If Stefan wanted to resent him for that, fine. They had plenty of other reasons to hate each other, far be it from Damon to pick and choose which ones made the list now.

Sitting in the living room, Damon was reading an old Gilbert journal. Whatever went down with the Gilbert watch and the Lockwood's left him with a lot of questions regarding the entire bloodline. He wanted to see if there were any buried secrets he missed over the years. As the fire crackled, the scent of it mingled with his lit cigar, wafting over the room. The sound of Stefans footsteps echoed down the hall well before he emerged in the entryway.

"Ugh." Damon groaned softly as he entered his peripheral. With out looking up from the journal, he turned the page and said, "I can feel you brooding."

guiltfed

vampirism has never been half as glamorous as katherine fought so hard to make them believe. it's a pair of shackles locked into place around his wrists before he'd ever even realized what was truly happening. how it could change someone for the worse. this isn't power, it's weakness. it's having your life wrung out of human connection and stretched out into a long, cold eternity ahead of you, suddenly devoid of any real meaning. driven only by an endless loop of thirst, of the deaths of virtually everyone else around you, of addiction so monstrous it distorts your very soul. if you still even possess one at the end of the day.

naturally, damon doesn't get it. why would he? where stefan lost his soul unwillingly, where it was stripped from him somewhere along the way, damon simply traded his in the first chance he got. to show for it? a good time. all the time. and the very worst of it is that a small part of stefan's still hopeless enough to want to dig his fingers into damon's chest, find the heart that used to care, pull it out. if only just to prove to them both that it's still in there.

not right now, though. lately he's facing a little worse than the empty space where his brother used to be.

he slows to a stop near where damon sits. flicks a glance at the journal in his hands, if only to be certain that damon isn't reading his again. that particular ploy for attention is getting old. "impressive. that means you're noticing more than just yourself today." which he's self aware enough to understand is confirming exactly what damon just said, but he can't bother with the denial today. another few steps guide him to the bottle on the end table, where he can at least pour himself a drink that might take the edge off what scratches, scratches, scratches at the back of his throat, a familiar dog waiting to be let back inside. "find anything?"