Disclaimer: At this point, all I don't own is the characters. Pfft. Maureen (Red) belongs to my bb JackieOh, though!
Holy shit it's been like 300+ years! I'm so sorry guys! Those following the tumblr know I had to take a break because of medication, which then spiraled into me getting sick. I'm so sorry! I also really struggled with coming up with a "first date", I had no intentions of writing it, BUT YOU ASKED SO I SHALL DELIVER.
A MEGA HUGE SHOUTOUT TO JASMINE AND MY BB 1LLU510N! THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR THE COVERS! I LOVE THEM! (Current cover was made by 1llu510n!)
I also wrote the majority of this fic listening to Shake Tramp. I'm pretty sure Marianas Trench is now one of my favorite songs. Thank you for the suggestion VampireSa5m1993!
Friday, October 8th
First Date & Bad Music
Tap, tap, tap, tappity-tap-tap.
Damon's head tilted a fraction to the right, blue eyes sliding over Clarissa as she continued to run her fingertips across the dashboard almost absentmindedly, slender fingers moving fluidly, seamlessly, as though she were in front of a piano.
Tap, tap, tap, tap-ta-ta-tap-tapity-tap-tap, tap.
His lips curved into a grin, finally catching onto which piece she was subconsciously playing. Robert Schumann's Kreisleriana Op. 16, Ausserst bewegt. He wondered how antsy she was now that he banned all and any supernatural related talk. He didn't want to hear about what Katherine might be up to, or if the Lockwoods were a bunch of prissy werewolves. He wanted the focus to remain on him, otherwise this entire date would quickly go up in a puff of smoke and he wouldn't even be an afterthought.
"Why gym teacher?" Clarissa's eyes swirled around to meet his, the light of the quickly fading sun creeping across the seat, draping her in an orange glow. It lit her curious blue-gray eyes up, making them gleam like two pieces of sea glass more than ever.
The tips of his fingers ached, the desire to reach out, to touch her, began to burn hungrily.
"What can I say…?" Damon drawled out lazily, a charming grin easily forming across his face. "Where you go, I go." Zero reaction. Not even a light dusting of pink across her cheeks. Disappointing but not unsurprising. She wasn't buying it, so Damon decided to try again. Tired of keeping his hands to himself, he lightly trailed his fingertips up her soft arm, seeking the calming relief only touching Clarissa provided. "I loathe the fact that my brother gets to see you all day. I'm jealous."
It wasn't exactly all bullshit.
A large part of him was there strictly because of her.
And getting to tease the hell out of Clarissa was a bonus.
Her earlier sheer flabbergasted, sputtering, reaction, cheeks swamped with bright red, mouth agape, unable to make a single fucking coherent sentence, had him smug as hell. A feeling that lingered throughout the entire day. He loved causing her to literally fall over herself at the mere sound of his voice, her body immediately and loudly reacting to him. It made him feel less like an idiot for losing his breath upon seeing her, pathetically trying to come up with something suave to say. It left him feeling a little hazy with how extreme her reactions were just over seeing him, the warmth spreading through him quickly.
It was one of his specialties, getting Clarissa to flush. When he began to catch on that it was an impressive feat, it ignited a dark rapacious glee within him. Only he could do this to the haughty Little Miss Clarissa, who held herself above such things, who would be damned to let anyone hold any kind of power over her emotionally and sexually. He easily had her a quivering mess with a single look. With a flash of fangs, a dark chuckle, and merely ghosting his fingertips across her feverish flesh, he had the proud, haughtily indifferent, Clarissa completely surrendering herself to him. He loved ripping her control to shreds, he loved that she couldn't hide it from him, or anyone else. It drove him crazy how loudly she expressed her affections, how she clearly wanted, needed, him like he did her.
Damon's thoughts tilted as a knowing look flickered across her face, gray-blue eyes glinting as a grin tugged slowly across her lips. Damon figured she'd see right through him. Sometimes he felt like he was a book written in many different languages that only Clarissa was able to read.
"Fiiiine," she puffed out, amusement playing across her face, her smile growing. "Keep your Damon Dickery plots."
Damon's fingers continued moving upward slowly, relishing in her. He still felt a little giddy over the fact that she was actually, happily, his. He was still reeling over how easy it was to be in her company, how easily she understood, accepted and wanted him. If he didn't tell her something it was fine, she trusted him. His palm skated across her cheek, his fingers sinking in her hair, and Clarissa sighed, leaning into his touch, as though she physically could not restrain herself from doing so.
It shot a pulse of thrill through Damon, his heart beating just a little bit faster. He had to tear his eyes from her, refocusing on the road, as she nuzzled into his skin. He lightly thumbed her earlobe.
"Accept my romantic reasons, Clarissa," he purred cockily, turning to her again to openly smirk, smugly pleased as her gaze flickered down to his mouth. The familiar th-thump of her heart causing his smirk to grow. His fangs were starting to ache, craving to sink into her flesh. He wanted to feel everything she was feeling, wanted her to consume him. "Mmm, I forget, you love my vampire dickery. I guess if I tell you the terrible shit I'm up to, you'd sooner be romanced by that than this date I have planned."
He listened as her heart skipped a few beats as she struggled on her own breath. "I—" she began but Damon wasn't really in the mood for her sputtering denials. He knew she was reacting to his choice of a certain word that apparently had her running in the opposite direction.
"Volunteering to help out the school looks good," he murmured in a low voice, his fingers gently brushing across her neck, soothing her. He could feel her pulse humming under the pad of his thumb. "I'm doing my part to help out this wonderful town I live in."
Clarissa's gaze pinned him with a rapidly growing mischievous understanding, excitement brimming brightly in her eyes, a dark smile curling across her pretty mouth. She easily read between the lines and leaned closer, the familiar smell of her apple shampoo and a sweetness that lingered around her wafting over him. He wanted to bite her, wanted to taste her.
"You're going to infiltrate the secret vampire hating council," Clarissa said breathlessly as he withdrew his hand from her teasing flesh.
He needed to keep both hands on the steering wheel, he was seconds away from pulling her into his lap and kissing her with every ounce of desire in his fucking body. He wanted her moaning his name, wanted her fingers digging into him as he sank his fangs into her pretty little neck. He wanted to kiss her senselessly, wanted her to kiss him back just as passionately.
"Mmmhmm." But he couldn't do that now. Not yet. So instead he pushed the demanding ache aside and smirked, as though he wasn't already half crazy for her. "I am a Founding family, after all, and with Zach out of the way, they're one Salvatore short." And then he was going to kill them. One by one. Over a stretch of time. All made to look like accidental deaths. "Plus I'm the only one supplying the vervain."
A wide grin sprinted across Clarissa's gleeful face, her glowing adoring gaze filled with an excited mischief that was making it harder and harder to concentrate on driving. Clarissa's mood had always bounced off his, but since learning his little hummingbird wasn't so human and had the ability to Glamour, Damon had a quiet suspicion that she was also able to influence his mood. Not that he was complaining, he liked following her into her moods, especially when everything just felt so good.
"Oh my God, this is brilliant! You're brilliant!" Clarissa gushed, warming him instantly. He could live off her praise. She was leaning into his space, fingers dancing across his arm excitedly. "I want in."
A dark, wicked, grin flew across his lips as he tilted his blue eyes toward his little birdhouse who so gleefully was ready to conspire to do ungodly things with him. Fuck it. Grabbing the back of her neck, he pulled her face to his, kissing her hungrily. Clarissa's heartbeat urged him on, her kiss addictively sweet.
This was going to be romantic, damn it.
Pulling her lower lip into his mouth, he nibbled lightly, his fangs sliding out, and she moaned softly.
A romantic date.
Not seduce Clarissa by talking about vampire dickery related things which leads to ravishing her in his car like some hormonal teenage boy. Why the hell was it so hard to control himself when it came to her?
She jerked back suddenly much to his frustration, eyes wide, cheeks red. "You can't kiss and drive!" Clarissa paused, eyes roaming across his face, as he growled lowly under his breath, shifting, trying to cool himself down. "Gettin' a little veiny eyed, huh?"
"You're the one conditioning me," he shot back playfully, tossing her a fanged smirk that sent her heart in a fit. "Fangs are romantic for Little Miss Disney."
He slowed the car to the stop which instantly redirected her attention to the window, her retort swallowed by her obvious curious confusion. Damon smothered his growing amusement, watching her eye the surrounding trees and the obvious lack of any kind of restaurant. Damon had unintentionally distracted her from realizing he'd driven off the road, following a dirt path to a small field. His amusement, however, was quickly becoming short lived, replaced by an awkward nervousness that twisted in his gut. Not giving her the opportunity to turn around and spout out something sarcastic, he flitted to her side of the car, pulling open the door and, with a charming grin, offering her a hand.
He hoped to fuck she couldn't tell how nervous he was.
Th-thump, th-thump.
She was nervous, too, and peered up at him with her suddenly shy adoring blue-gray eyes. Lightly, she placed her hand in his and he curled his fingers, easily pulling her from the car. Clarissa came from a world, a lifestyle, where his gentlemanly acts were expected. Damon knew if he were anyone else, she'd hardly notice and would feel offended if the doors weren't held open or if she wasn't offered help in and out of vehicles. But it was special when he did it and it made his heart scatter inside his chest when she smiled shyly, eyes bright with admiring appreciation. As though she had never experienced such treatment, as though each time he behaved so, it was for the first time and she was deeply, pleasantly, surprised and shyly flattered. He was determined to top her old lifestyle, and one-upping was one of his specialties.
Clarissa's eyes tilted away, observing the cluster of trees that surrounded them, fairy lights hanging on low branches.
"If you're wondering if I brought you out here because I plan to kill a bear with my bare hands and cook it," Damon began playfully, moving toward the trunk of the car. "Then you're correct."
"You better skin it with your teeth," she played along cheerfully, gliding to his side, a grin across her face. "I've always wanted a fur coat."
He stuffed the folded blanket into her arms. "I promised you that I'd show you a whole new world," he said as she stumbled a bit, shifting the blanket awkwardly and staring down at it in confusion. He wondered if Clarissa even knew what a picnic was. "There's your magic carpet, princess." He plucked the basket up, smirking at the utter confusion on her face. "We're having a romantic picnic under the stars."
He let Clarissa pick the spot in the clearing where they'd set up, and he wasn't at all surprised when she took ten minutes deciding which spot would be perfect.
Pain in his freakin' ass.
He couldn't keep from rolling his eyes. "It's all the same. Just throw the blanket down and sit your ass down."
"Be romantic at me, and romantically, happily, put up with my indecisiveness." Clarissa sang back, brandishing a finger airily as she eyed a spot on the ground. He snatched her finger, yanking playfully. "I'm not sure why you had me get cute if we're just going to sit on the ground."
Oh lord.
"You should be dressing to impress me constantly." Damon shot back with a smirk, tilting his head haughtily and squinting at her. By now it was mostly dark, but the area around them was pleasantly lit by the glowing fairy lights in a way that was comfortable, but didn't take away from the starlight.
Clarissa was most definitely shifting into Everett mode with the look she was giving him. This is what he had been wanting to avoid. It's why he'd opted for doing something that wouldn't involve a fancy place. Not that anywhere close by had the kind of restaurants that held an inkling to the sort she dined in as an Everett. He flicked her nose and ripped the blanket from her arms.
"You'd be impressed if I walked around in a pillow sack," Clarissa informed him as he shifted the basket under one arm, opening the blanket. "I'm sexy in everything." Mmhm.
He spread the Angel blanket (which was a fucking bitch to find online) out on the ground and Clarissa's attention immediately shifted, her lips springing into an amused, giddy, smile.
"There you go," Damon said idly, as though bored, despite his fluttering heartbeat. He was becoming nervous again. He nodded toward the life sized image of Angel on the blanket. "I'm sure you've always wanted to sit on his face."
He was pleased by the revolution that flew across her face, nose scrunching up. "The only face I'm sitting on is yours!"
Fucking.
Of all the damn things that would come out of her mouth, it was that. Damon's fingers twitched on the basket, eyes sliding down to her as she glowered at the blanket, and he wondered if she understood what she said. Clarissa had a tendency to say things without thinking about them, and he wasn't that sure how knowledgeable she was of the sexual world.
"How could you even say that? Angel looks like Stefan!"
Damon frowned and turned his head back to the blanket. Squinting, he stepped back a little. Amusement sprang hotly, he suddenly could see it. "No matter how hard I try, Stefan just finds way to involve himself in my life."
"It's not gay if it's in a three-way!" Clarissa quipped happily and Damon shoved her forward, irritated.
She shrieked as she flailed forward, landing rather roughly on the ground and rolling onto her back, propping herself up on her elbows and looking up at him. He wondered if she knew how inviting she looked as she patted the spot next to her.
"There's enough room on Stefan for the both of us, D," she called in a low voice, a teasing smirk on her face.
"We are not calling Angel Stefan," Damon huffed, gracefully plopping down next to her, settling the basket down on his other side. Clarissa leaned her face on his arm, grinning up at him.
"At the Founder's party, you said Stefan was the angel in this story, so you started it." She batted her eyelashes up at him causing his stomach to twist and tug with nerves. It seemed impossible, but Clarissa became more and more beautiful every time he looked at her.
"You remember that?" He hardly remembered that, it was just so insignificant.
"I remember everything you say, D." Clarissa told him softly, earnestly, and Damon let her tug him down with her. He tilted so he leaning over her slightly, propping himself up on one elbow. Her hair was spread out like a dark halo, her hands sliding under his jacket and moving slowly across his chest. Her blue-gray eyes moved across his face. "Damon…" she began, hesitantly.
"Hmmm?" He knew she was on the verge of bringing up something serious, it was there in the way she was looking at him. He brushed a few strands of hair from her face, caressing her cheek with the pad of his thumb, in hopes to relax her and coax her into talking.
Clarissa's heart fluttered to his touch, her gaze warm. "I think I'd be alright trying it out—having a three-way. With another girl. Or one of your meals."
Damon released a puff of a chuckle, amused, dragging his hand across her stomach slowly. "We're not even having sex yet and you're bringing up threesomes with other people…?" Insecurity slammed into him—what if she hadn't been saying that for his benefit but her own…? He went still, staring back down at her seriously as she peered up at him, watching his expression carefully, a frown marring her face. "Is that something… you would want to do?"
The idea of it made him sick, but if Clarissa wanted to explore the sexual side of life—had he really believed that she would be satisfied with only being with him…? He didn't know if he would be able to give her that.
Her soft fingers trailed across his jaw slowly, tearing him from his nauseating thoughts. "I would try it for you." Her words were a wave of relief, unfreezing his insides, and Damon nuzzled into her palm. "You know I'm only Damon-sexual."
"I'm selfish," he murmured, brushing his mouth across her palm. "I don't want to share you with anyone, Clarissa." He trailed his mouth slowly across her skin, planting small kisses as he made his way down her wrist.
"Damon," she breathed as he continued kissing up her arm, his own name sounding so fucking good coming from her mouth. "I don't… I don't want to change you…" she sounded dazed, clearly having trouble thinking clearly. Damon's lips twitched into a smug smirk against her skin. "I mean—wild vampire sex… it's your thing, and I… I don't want to share you either, but I could—every now and then—threesomes are—I read somewhere that it's actually very…"
Damon sat up, easily pulling her up with him and tugging her onto his lap horizontally. Clarissa gasped in surprise, her fingers splayed across his chest, legs draped across his and hanging off his thigh. He dipped his head, kissing her neck with growing hunger. She tilted her head, giving him better access, a soft sigh of pleasure falling from her lips.
"I didn't even look at another woman for nearly fifty years," he muttered into her skin, trying to keep his fangs from sliding out. Her heart loudly fluttered and he nearly swore. Biting her right now would send everything spiraling, especially with his sense of control nearly gone at this point. "And that was with Katherine locked away in a tomb. You're in front of me. If you're worried I might get bored, I won't." He lightly nipped her flesh with blunt teeth causing her to moan deliciously. "Consider me strictly Clary-sexual."
He tilted his head up as a delighted smile sprinted across her face. Smirking, pleased with himself, he curled an arm around her back, drawing her closer to his chest. His little birdhouse nestled closer as he dragged the basket toward them.
"I've never done this before," she commented on lightly, leaning her head against his, their cheeks touching.
Called it.
"That's because you're a poor sheltered rich girl and I'm a big bad vampire about to blow your mind." Damon told her pleasantly. "I can open your eyes. Take you wonder by wonder. Over, sideways, and under on this magic carpet ride. A whole new wooorld," he flipped open the lid to the basket and retrieved the McDonalds bag. "Five star happy meals! Just for you."
Her mouth fell open in surprise and Damon realized he had actually done it—he'd shocked her into a dumbfounded silence. One that he hoped was good. It was the only thing he could do. One up the past by taking her on a date she'd never experienced before, all the while making it as romantic and as cheesy as hell.
"Mmm," he wasn't done either. "And for drinks, blood for me, Pepsi for you," he continued with a smirk, pulling out two Winnie the Pooh sippy cups.
Clarissa's snort of amusement rapidly fell into full blown laughter and she was tilting away from him as her body shook with her hysterics. Clutching her stomach, she flipped backwards with a thawmp. It was so gratifying making her laugh. Like everything surrounding Clarissa, her laughter was bright, wild, and so happy.
"Classy as fuck, D." Clarissa grinned widely up at him. "Drinking blood out of a sippy cup, oh my God."
Smirking impishly, he leaned over her, tapping her nose. "Mmmhm. The blood belongs to the couple who are responsible for the lights hanging on the trees," he said, gesturing to the fairy lights. "I crashed their date, murdered them in cold blood for the idea, and will now dine on their blood as I romance you."
Amused laughter spilled out as threw her arms around his neck, pulling him down with her. Grinning, Damon nuzzled into the crook of her neck, blissfully enjoying the way she nestled in his arms, her fingers sliding through his hair. It might've been minutes, it could've been hours, time didn't seem to exist anymore when Damon was with her. He was simply so content in laying there with her, listening to her heartbeat, to every breath she took, as she stroked his hair.
"The stars here are so beautiful," Clarissa murmured quietly, awe lacing her tone and Damon shifted so he could see her face. "I think it's the only thing I like about living up here. I remember the first time I saw the night sky outside of the city. I think I might've been six, we were at Barbados."
Damon rolled onto his back, turning his gaze from her wistful pretty face to the dark sky littered with dimly glowing stars. Her hand slid into his, their fingers intertwining.
"It's where I fell in love with the ocean. I stayed exclusively on the beach and the locals there took to watching after me all day. They would make me these baskets out of coconut leaves." Clarissa's voice was soft, a sad happiness lit in her murmur and Damon's gaze slid toward her, watching her relive the memory. "That first night… The moon never looked so beautiful and white and round—and the stars. It was so beautiful, so magical, I never wanted to look away. It was pure love, looking at that sky. For a long time, nothing could ever compare to it, nothing could ever take my breath away like that, or have me so completely enthralled. When I'd play the piano, it's always what I'd think about. If I ever believed in anything, it was that sky and the vast beauty. It's my second favorite memory."
There wasn't a doubt in his mind, Damon knew he was going to take her back to Barbados. He wanted to be the one to give that piece of happiness back to her, craved to be a part of that new, favorite, memory. Though… if that was her second favorite memory…
"What is your first favorite memory?" He wondered softly. Whatever it was, he would top it. Clarissa tilted her head, eyes dragging from the sky, meeting his with such an intensity that he nearly forgot how to breathe, swept up in the way she lit everything up inside him with a single fond look. Her pretty mouth blossomed into a gentle smile.
"You."
It was cheesy and overly romantic and cliché and Damon knew she meant it. His heart stopped inside his chest—he was her favorite memory…? Her favorite. Damon tried to swallow, his nerves a mess inside him. He had fucking butterflies. Warm happiness spread across his chest and through every inch of him as Clarissa's adoring blue-gray gaze cherished him.
"You're my night sky. Dark and endlessly beautiful. You steal my breath away, you leave me in awe. I want to look at you forever." She spoke so sweetly, so passionately, looking at him like that, he nearly couldn't take it. "Everything about you embodies the night sky and the sea. I'm the safest, the happiness, near you. You're my favorite everything."
He found that he could only openly gape at her, so struck by her words that he couldn't even think. Red burst across her cheeks and she tilted her eyes away, back toward the sky. God, he just needed her eyes on him, needed her to look at him, needed to be swept up in her. He rolled over, hovering over Clarissa. Gently looping his fingers under her chin, Damon guided her head back toward him. Clarissa's gaze was a vast pool of swimming gray and blue, spilling over him, dragging him in. The world around him faded away into a nothingness, only Clarissa existed, mattered. She looked at him like he was the whole world.
Her heart pattered nervously and his matched her beat.
"You're so beautiful, I nearly can't stand it." Damon murmured softly, stroking her jawline with his thumb. Red drenched her cheeks at the affectionate that coated his quiet voice, and Damon couldn't keep himself at bay. "I'll take you to every damn place on this planet, wherever you want to go, we'll go. We can see the sky from every angle."
Clarissa's gaze tangled with his as her shyness ebbed away. A tiny smile bloomed across her stunning face that made his pulse leap. "Damon," she caressed every letter of his name so sweetly, adoringly, he felt light headed. "I'm the happiest just by being here with you. Even if we put glow-in-the-dark stars on the ceiling, it'd be the same thing to me. Nothing compares to you."
Damon ran his thumb across her lower lip and, unable to help himself, he bent his head, kissing her deeply. He kissed her long, and slow, exploring, mapping every inch of her sweet mouth with his tongue and committing it to memory. Clarissa tilted into him, arms winding around his neck. Her body fit to his comfortably and he drew her closer, curling an arm around her waist, as her tongue gently glided over his. She tasted so fucking good. Her fluttering heart danced against his chest, the sound twirling around him.
He was sinking into her, this impossible happiness consuming and sweet. Every second longer he spent in her company, the deeper this euphoric bliss grew inside of him. Clarissa poured every part of herself into each slow, long, kiss, her touches soft and adoring. Every inch of her was his and every inch of him was hers, they were so completely one another's that Damon was bursting brightly.
He pulled back just enough so that their foreheads still touched, and Clarissa drew his breath in, as though she was actually breathing him in. It was a little habit she had when kissing him, and it caused his lips to spring upward. Leaning forward, he brushed his lips against hers in a quick, soft, kiss and rolled back onto his back, pulling her with him. She snuggled against his chest, curling up happily.
"You should've seen the stars back in eighteen hundreds," he murmured, running his fingers through her soft hair. She tilted her head up, looking at him. "Stef and I used to stargaze a lot when we were both younger. Mother was still alive, then, too. She liked to picnic under the starlight. It was one of the last times we were all together and happy." He paused briefly. "My father had told Stef and I… That the great Kings of the past were up there, watching over us."
He watched as confusion made its way across her face, a frown on her lips. She furrowed her eyebrow, tilting to look at him more. Realization flashed and she sat up and swatting his chest, grinning. "Way to turn the serious, touching, moment about your family into Lion King!"
He merely smirked lazily back at her.
"Mm, no, this is when I kiss you goodnight and leave," Damon informed his little birdhouse as she peered up at him questioningly, hand on the doorknob. It was nine thirty.
But he wanted to keep it appropriate first date themed, even if the idea of cutting the night short by not going inside with her irritated the shit out of him. Clarissa clearly shared his thought, frowning, and looking so good in his leather jacket. Smirking, he tucked a piece of hair behind her hair and cupped her face in his hands, dipping his head, seeking her sweet little mouth. Clarissa leaned into him, lifting herself on the tips of her toes, curling her fingers in the fabric of his shirt.
She pouted when he stepped back, breaking the kiss, and immediately there was a lingering need to appease her. Brat was trying to Glamour him. He was starting to pick up on the difference between his wanting to give her the whole damn world, and when she influenced that. It was like fingertips pressing into his skin, warm and urgent.
"Don't be greedy." Damon teased and she scoffed. "I'll see you tomorrow, sweetcheeks."
It was stupid how difficult it was to force himself to leave, especially when she was looking at him the way she was. Her fingers curled around his hand, instantly stopping any movement and he tilted his questioning gaze toward her.
"Thank you," she smiled softly, wrapping her arms around him. "I… really liked the date."
She was going to kill him if she continued making his heart jolt like this, fuck.
"Ooh, lucky me, sounds like this is going to lead up to a second date," Damon said playfully, trying to slow his heart down. "We can picnic under the stars on the beach of Barbados."
She laughed, arms dropping from around him, only to stop when her eyes met his. He must've been staring at her too seriously, too affectionately, because her breath caught.
"You can wear that sexy itsy-bitsy bikini," he continued, smirking, as her eyes widened.
"We're not going to Barbados as a second date." If Clarissa thought she could tell him where he could or couldn't take her, she was going to be in for a surprise. He merely smirked darkly and she sputtered as he slunk off the porch. "Damon," she hissed after him. "I'm friggin' serious!"
His laughter was her only response.
"WILD THING! YOU MAKE MY HEART SING! YOU MAKE EVERYTHIN'… GROOVY! WILD THIIIING!"
Stefan released a sigh as the next song started up, blaring through the entire boarding house loud enough that the walls rattled. He was pretty sure it was The Troggs, too, a band Stefan never really enjoyed. All night, music from the late fifties to mid-sixties had been blaring. All night. Green eyes flickered toward the digital alarm clock across the room. It was one in the morning. What was Damon doing…? It was a good thing Zach "went on vacation suddenly" (was buried somewhere in Mystic Falls), otherwise he was sure this would drive his poor nephew into snapping. Only the dead knew peace from Damon's madness.
With another sigh, he put down the book he'd been reading and decided to go find his brother. It didn't take very long, all he had to do was follow the sound of Damon belting along to the music.
"But I wanna knooow fooooor suuuureee!" Damon's sang along happily, his voice becoming louder as Stefan followed the winding hallway. "So come on and hold me tiiiiight! You move me!"
Damon was clearly sober, up a fifty foot ladder in the middle of the hallway, swaying his hips as he fiddled with something on the ceiling.
"How many vampires does it take to change a light bulb?" Stefan wondered sarcastically, gaining Damon's attention just as—oh lord, the Everly Brothers' Till I Kissed You began playing. It was as though his brother had complied the worst love songs from that decade and decided to torture Stefan with them.
"Ha ha. Very funny. I'm gluing glow-and-the-dark stars to the ceiling," Damon answered back with a scoff, as though that was a perfectly normal thing to do at one in the morning. Or in general. Stefan furrowed his brow, confused.
"You couldn't find better music to do that to?" Stefan felt like he'd stumbled into some kind of Twilight Zone. Had it only been a few short weeks ago that they could hardly be in the same room as one another, let alone speak civilly? And now, all at once, they were on their way to being brothers again.
"What's wrong with The Everly Brothers?" Damon demanded with a huff. "I think their music is very relatable."
As if on cue, the second part of the chorus kicked up with: "You. Don't. Reaaal-izeee what you do to meeee! And I didn't realize what a kiss could beeee! Mmmm, ya got a waaay 'bout ya! Now I can't live without ya! Never knew what I missed 'til I kissed ya!"
Stefan wasn't sure which was more nauseating, a smitten Damon or Damon pretending he had no humanity. "If Big Bopper starts playing, I'm smashing the stereo."
"I'm sorry, should I be listening to Bob Dylan mumble on while playing the same flat tune on his guitar? Maybe if I listen hard enough, I'll be able to understand what the hell he's saying—"
Stefan's foot accidentally kicked in the leg of the ladder. He watched in amusement as the entire thing swayed, Damon swearing loudly as he fell in a blur of dark colors, hitting the ground with a sickening THAWK. Biting back a grin, Stefan tilted his head to peer down at Damon, who was moaning in pain, rolling across the floor.
"You okay?" His attempt to sound concerned failed and Damon's blue eyes squinted back up at him, face crinkled in pain.
"What the hell was that for?" Damon demanded in a groan, rubbing the back of his head.
Shifting a shoulder upward into a casual shrug, Stefan offered his brother a hand. "You're an asshole."
Blue met green and the two brothers stared awkwardly at one another, silently assessing the other for a full minute until Damon's gaze fell down to Stefan's offered hand briefly. Tilting his gaze back up to meet Stefan's, Damon's lips tugged upward into a smirk and he leaned forward, firmly taking the offered hand.
As Stefan helped Damon back to his feet, Damon chimed with a playful, "Next time I'll remember to be more sensitive about your shitty music, baby bro. But you know the rules, no rough housing inside."
Sunday, October 10th
Girl Talk & Mentally Scarring Younger Brothers
Emily's grimoire and talisman lay forgotten as the two best friends sat on the bed. Elena had her knees to her chest, Bonnie sitting cross legged next to her, a sympathetic look on her face.
"It's like it doesn't even matter to Clare…" Elena continued, blinking back a few tears that had formed again and Bonnie felt her heart twist for her best friend. "I know that we're in the middle of all this… this crazy stuff with vampires and… whatever I am and whatever she is—but… we're adopted." Elena's dark eyes squeezed shut as she pushed her hair back.
Bonnie's head was still spinning from everything Elena had just told her, and it was obvious that a lot of tension had rolled off her now that Bonnie was in the know. It was still difficult to picture the two Salvatore brothers as vampires, even more so, the continued proof that Bonnie was a witch. Something, which, she had been trying to deny despite her and Gram's serious talk and the terrifying evidence.
But right now, none of that supernatural stuff mattered. Right now, her best friend was struggling with coming to terms with being adopted. Bonnie knew that Clare had a tendency to land bombshells on people without thinking much of the consequences, however she couldn't help but agree with Clare's firm stance of not giving a damn.
"You're still Elena Gilbert, Jeremy is still your little brother, and they are and always will be your parents," Bonnie said firmly, bumping her shoulder with Elena's. "Nothing has changed." Elena still looked gloomy and opened her mouth, but Bonnie cut her off. "They were going to tell you. And put yourself in Jenna's shoes, how is she supposed to tell you that right after they died? Clare isn't caring because she's being spastic, she's not caring because there is nothing to care about."
Elena's lips tugged down into a pouty frown and she cast Bonnie a look, but there was a spark of relief in her dark eyes. Maybe all she needed was to hear it from someone sensible. "You're my best friend, you're supposed to agree with me."
"I'm your best friend, I'm supposed to talk smack about Stefan dating you after dating someone who looks exactly like you." Bonnie shot back, giving Elena a look. Elena snorted. "How the hell am I supposed to be catty and say she's ugly? When she comes out of that tomb, she's going to look like shit. There. I feel better."
Elena laughed and the two moved onto less serious topics.
Stefan had never regretted anything more in his entire existence than this very moment when he had made the horrific decision to enter the kitchen. He froze at the scene that was laid out before him.
Clare was wearing—he wasn't really sure what she was wearing, it was some kind little girl's sailor dress with lots of frills and lace and looked like it belonged in a strange porno rather than on her! And Damon—Damon was wearing some sort of lacey black collar with a large bell attached and… were those… clip on kitty ears? In his mess of dark hair were kitty ears!
Blue eyes snapped in his direction, widening almost comically. "Stef—"
Clare tugged sharply on what appeared to look like a leather leash, drawing Damon's face closer to hers, reclaiming his gaze. Damon's head was tilted slightly, blue eyes smoldering, his stance so submissive he was nearly unrecognizable.
Stefan was freaked out beyond belief, he just stumbled into a scene he would never be able to unsee.
"I didn't say you could speak." Clare said in a low, commanding, voice, and Stefan watched in disgusted horror as the two locked in a stare laced with such heavy sexual tension that he nearly threw up in his mouth. "I'm going to have to punish you, Kitten."
Stefan bolted from the kitchen. He was going to need years and years of intense therapy before ever feeling somewhat normal ever again.
Monday, October 11th
Vervain Coffee & Bronies & Werewolf Experts
"What are you doing?" Jeremy asked with a yawn, leaning against the island as Clare bounced around the kitchen, the pot of coffee in hand. If she was going to drink coffee, Jeremy wanted to know now so he could walk to school, rather be subjected to the spastic madness that would surely ensure being stuck in a car with her.
He loved his sister, he really did, but that didn't mean he could handle her all the time.
"Making a cup of coffee for Alaric." His sister replied happily, pouring the coffee into a large styrofoam cup. Jeremy opened his mouth, shocked, just as Elena, who was watching in amusement, shook her head.
"No, he's not here, if that's what you're thinking," Elena informed him, raising her mug to her lips. Then what the hell was she making him coffee for if he wasn't even here…?
She was going to bring it to him?
"You're sucking up to the history teacher?" Jeremy wondered with a frown, puzzled. Since when did Clare give a damn about that sort of stuff? Especially since she could Glamour?
"It's 'from Jenna'." Elena explained using air quotes. Oh jeez.
"You're really set on getting them together, huh?" Jeremy and Elena shared a look. Once Clare got something in her mind, it was difficult to deter her.
"They're her OTP." Elena shrugged and Jeremy shook his head.
"You can't ship people in real life, that's weird."
Clare pulled out a vial, scoffing, not looking at either of them. "If he thinks it's from Jenna, he's more likely to drink it. Plus I'm gonna Glamour him into wanting to."
"So you're poisoning him?" Elena asked, confused, as Clare dumped the clear liquid into the coffee, stirring it.
"That's vervain." Jeremy realized, feeling a lot more awake suddenly. "You're spiking his coffee with vervain? Why? He's not a vampire, C."
Clare raised the coffee up in front of her, as though inspecting her work, amusement loud on her face. "We're protecting him."
"Against what?" What the hell was Clare talking about? Protecting him? They hardly knew him!
"Damon?" Elena guessed.
"From all vampires." Clare said happily.
Jeremy and Elena glanced at each other with the same knowing look, a silent mutual agreement to keep an eye on Clare passing between them. When it came to Alaric, Clare got a little… funny. Jeremy had never seen her instantly take to someone like she did with Alaric. Which was actually really weird. Especially since he smacked her in the face with a door. Accident or not, she normally would've taken offense to that. And with the whole supernatural world coming into play, Jeremy knew for a damn fact that she would be hesitant about Alaric rather than so accepting. Trust no one, that's what she had said.
"Do you feel like you have to make him a part of our lives because he was… married to our birth mom?" Elena stumbled over the question awkwardly and Clare finally glanced over to them, staring at Elena oddly.
"That woman has nothing to do with our life, Laney." Clare stated flatly, irritation flashing across her face. "Don't even consider her our birth mom. She's just Isobel. Okaaay! Let's get going, I wanna give Alaric the coffee before class starts!"
"But why?" Jeremy pressed, eyeing Clare as she impatiently shifted her weight between her feet. They were standing some feet away from the entrance of the school, Elena having gone off to find Stefan.
"I don't know," Clare muttered back distractedly. "Because we have to."
Because we have to? That was her reason for wanting to protect Alaric?
"Why?"
She threw him an aggravated look, opening her mouth to snap something out, when she brightened suddenly. "A-Ric!"
Said history teacher was just passing them by and slowed to a stop, grinning warmly. Jeremy had to admit the guy seemed alright, but that didn't mean he suddenly wanted him as his new father figure or anything.
"Morning, Gilberts." Alaric greeted sleepily.
"Jenna made you coffee," Clare gushed happily, presenting the cup to him and he shot her a look, taking it from her.
"What did I say about trying to set me up with your aunt? It's weird." Alaric wasn't buying her shit and Jeremy released a laugh, amused.
"I said the same thing." Jeremy said and Alaric shook his head, grinning, as Clare scoffed.
"Thanks, though." Alaric raised the cup as though to toast them. He took a sip, made a face, and gave Clare another look. "If this is going to become habit, not that I'm encouraging it, I like my coffee black."
"Okie-dokie." Clare deadpanned. "Just remember, a coffee a day keeps the bloodsuckers away." What the hell! She was telling him?
Alaric faltered just slightly, a look of consideration passing across his face as he turned to glance back at them. The very moment he stepped through the doors, Jeremy punched his sister on the arm.
"Ouch, J!" She whined unhappily, rubbing the spot he struck. She was being dramatic, he didn't even hit her that hard. "What was that for?"
"You know what that was for!"
Anna: going to the midnight release?
Jeremy's lips twitched upward into a grin at the text and replied: dunno mybe. you p-ordered uncharted?
It had been… God, six months? Maybe a little bit longer? Since Jeremy had gone to a midnight release for a game. That was something he and dad would do, and Jeremy wasn't sure if he wanted to continue the tradition. …But seeing Anna would be kind of cool.
Jeremy released a (totally dignified and manly) shriek upon entering his room and finding two vampires already inside. Damon was idly spinning in his computer chair and Stefan was sitting on the floor, playing on his xbox. The confused, irritated, shock flooded over the initial jolting surprise and Jeremy shut the door, frowning.
"What are you guys doing here?"
"We're waiting for you to play with us, Jerbear." Damon intoned sarcastically, swirling the chair to face him, looking bored. "It's not polite to invite us over and ignore us all day. We're your vampires."
What the hell was Damon talking about?
"I didn't invite you over." Jeremy pointed out, dropping his bag to the floor and Damon gasped, placing a hand over his chest. "Clare's researching?" What could she possibly be researching? Werewolves? The Lockwoods?
The blue eyed vampire scoffed. "Why are you so against us hanging out?" That meant yes. "Where have you been?" He added in a demand, as though Jeremy being out was the biggest offense.
"I was at my friend's house." Jeremy said with a shrug, throwing himself down on the bed, bouncing a little. He glanced over to Stefan who appeared to be oblivious to everything but Gears of War.
"You have friends?" Damon asked, sounding honestly surprised, and Jeremy rolled his eyes. Dick.
He had about three friends left after—well, after the whole drug saga of his life. Three friends who were willing to understand and forgive all the shit he had put them through. They just so happened to be his… nerdiest three friends.
"So I get why you're here," Jeremy said, choosing to ignore Damon's rude ass comment. "Cockblocked by information has to suck, but I don't get why he's here."
Damon waved a hand about airily. "Stef needs some male bonding. He's only been in the company of girls for the last hundred and forty-five years. He needs to man up a little, be less of a sensitive pushover."
"Keep telling him that, kitten." Stefan deadpanned and Jeremy watched with growing interest as Damon flushed. An angry pink hue spread across his cheeks and he squinted his blue eyes angrily.
"Stefan has an addictive personality." Damon switched the subject and Jeremy's eyebrows rose as the vampire flat out refused to look in the younger Salvatore's direction. "That's why he's in here, playing the video games. Addicted. It's a problem. He may go on killing sprees if he doesn't get to play some xbox every day."
Stefan paused the game and tilted his eyes toward Damon who growled threateningly. With a smirk, Stefan turned to Jeremy. "You should ask Damon the weird things he likes to dress up as in his spare time."
"You weren't supposed to see that." Damon snapped. "That was private."
Jeremy snorted. "If you tell me you're secretly a brony, I'm going to throw myself out the window." Jeremy wasn't kidding either. "My friend just came out of the stable to me."
Stefan and Damon both stared at him like he was nuts, Stefan's eyebrows furrowed as Damon outright made a face.
"What the hell are you talking about?" The eldest vampire demanded irritably.
"Brony?" Stefan repeated the name, confused. Oh God.
"Google it." Jeremy suggested with a smirk. Damon held his stare for a solid thirty seconds before he dropped his legs from resting on top of the computer tower and swirled the chair around. Stefan was hovering over his shoulder instantly.
Google Images was about to taint them with more darkness than a hundred and forty-five years of being vampires.
Neither vampire said anything after a stretch of silence so Jeremy decided to elaborate.
"There's this cartoon for little girls called My Little Pony. Bronies are guys who love the ponies and usually dress up like them." Or something. Honestly, Jeremy wasn't too clear as it was. But he promised to support his friend as long as he didn't tell Jeremy any of the details.
"What?" Damon and Stefan turned around, staring at Jeremy with various incredulous looks of horror and confusion. They glanced at each other and then turned back to the computer, fighting over the keyboard.
"The world is going to hell," Stefan was saying as Damon smacked his hands away.
"Yes, and I'm so glad you made us immortal, Stef, really, thanks for that. I'm glad I get to see Bronies." Damon agreed with mock cheerfulness. "I can't wait to see what the horrible future holds if this is the present!"
"It can't be worse than what you were doing." Stefan shot back.
"I'm googling it! Let's see! Let's see what they'd wear!"
Jeremy hopped off the bed, he needed to see this. Eventually Stefan had wrestled the keyboard from Damon and the three of them leaned closer to the computer screen. Stefan had found something called Rainbow Dash footie pajamas for grown men. It was blue with a rainbow tail, a hood with cartoon eyes and a rainbow mane.
"I…" Damon was, for the first time (that Jeremy had witnessed), completely and utterly speechless, his mouth falling open.
"Well…" Jeremy cleared his throat. "Some people take this… Uh, really seriously."
"Is this a sexual thing?" Stefan tilted his head, staring in bewilderment. "Are they… sexually attracted to little girl ponies?"
"I would assume that's why it's called coming out of the stable, but I don't know. I don't think my friend is into it in a sexual way." If he was, Jeremy really, seriously, didn't want to know. Not because he was against bronies, but because he didn't want to hear about anyone's sexual fetishes.
"Should we buy it?" Stefan asked quietly causing Damon and Jeremy to snap their heads toward him. The younger vampire smirked, green eyes lit with a playful mischief. "Cat, pony, they're the same thing, right?"
A growl erupted from Damon's throat and Jeremy wondered how the hell the cat thing got passed onto Damon. Stefan had been the butt of the cat jokes between them last Friday. But Jeremy didn't want to know, and so didn't ask.
"I think you'd rock the look, Stefan." Jeremy didn't know why he felt the need to have Damon's back, and the words were out of his mouth before he could even think about them.
Damon's lips twitched into a smirk and Jeremy knew, somehow, he was going to regret even saying anything. He was dealing with two obviously very bored vampires.
"Whoever can get Clary to react consciously wins." Damon said with a smirk, after a few minutes of the two shooting insults back and forth at each other. "And the loser wears the PJs, in public, for an hour."
"Fine. Rules?" Stefan agreed flatly.
Yeah. These vampires were in serious need for a life. But Jeremy was kind of bored too, and life was becoming more and more entertaining.
"We don't touch her laptop or physically move her."
Stefan had no idea what he just signed up for, he had no idea what Clare was like when she was researching.
He followed the two vampires into his sister's room, debating whether or not if he should bring a snack. This was going to take a while.
Clare was sitting cross legged on her bed, back against the headboard, hair up in a messy bun. Poe was sitting next to her, a bowl of sunflower seeds in front of him. Damon shot the bird an odd look.
"Yeah, he sticks around even when you're not controlling him." Jeremy informed him.
"She needs a real pet." It was a good thing that Clare wasn't around to hear him say that, because Jeremy was sure if she did, this time tomorrow every animal considered to be a 'pet' would be in this house.
Jeremy didn't trust Damon to be able to deny Clare for a long stretch of time. "Good luck." He said to the two vampires, plopping down on the stool in front of the vanity.
"Clare," Stefan leaned closer to the oblivious girl. "I'm going to eat Poe."
No reaction.
"Claryberry!" Damon bounced up onto the bed, jumping around. Clare tilted over slightly only to right herself. "Clary, Clary, Clary!"
No reaction.
"Oh God!" Stefan cried as a brown owl came bursting into the room. Jeremy guessed controlling animals wasn't a strictly-Damon talent. "They delivered Bonnie's letter from Hogwarts to the wrong house!"
No reaction.
"OUCH DAMON YOU PSYCHO!" Jeremy burst out angrily, smacking the vampire away from him. "You weren't supposed to actually bite me!"
"It had to be believable," Damon rolled his eyes like Jeremy was overreacting! He wasn't overreacting! Jeremy threw him an angry look, pushing down his shirt to look at the bite mark on his shoulder.
"Gross!"
"You're not even bleeding."
"Clare, your freakin' boyfriend bit me! I'm pretty sure that's sexua—"
"Oh, Jerbear!" Damon pounced, tackling Jeremy to the ground with a loud THUD. "I can't contain my feelings!"
"Stefan, get him off me!"
No reaction from Clare.
"Look, Clare!" Stefan leaned into her space, a cupcake in hand. "It's a—"
The oblivious girl snatched the offered cupcake from his hand so quickly it was almost inhuman and stuffed the entire thing, wrapper included, into her mouth. Stefan cringed as she pulled the half chewed, wet, wrapper from her mouth and tossed it to the side of her bed carelessly.
"Clary…" Damon began seriously. "This just got Defan."
Stefan snapped his head around to Damon as Jeremy raised his eyebrows. This just got…? Damon, smirking, turned on his heels, throwing Stefan into a hug. The younger Salvatore flailed and the two crashed loudly into the dresser.
"Damon!"
"It's more than brotherly love! I can't keep my tortured soul from loving you in a twisted, perverted, way, Stefan! I've tried! But I cannot resist you!"
Jeremy lost control and broke out laughing as Stefan, face twisted in disgust, attempted to shove Damon from him.
Clare was oblivious as ever.
Clare's closet doors burst open and Stefan strutted out dramatically, tossing a scarf over his shoulder. "You're right, Clare, I am gay."
No reaction.
"We'll bang, okay?" Damon said loudly, pulling his shirt off and placing his hands on his hips as though presenting himself.
No reaction.
"Clare, do you want a puppy?" Stefan asked with forced enthusiasm.
No reaction.
"Look, Clary!" Damon demanded, juggling knives.
No reaction.
"What are they doing?" Elena wondered, standing next to the very amused Jeremy, the two of them watching Damon and Stefan make fools out of themselves.
"Trying to get Clare to respond." Jeremy explained with a smirk. "They're in a bet. The loser has to dress up like a brony."
Elena opened her mouth and then closed it, clearly deciding it was best if she didn't know what a brony was. Instead she walked over to Clare and sat down next to her, dark eyes tilting toward the screen.
"Researching what?" Elena asked and Clare's gaze unfocused a bit before she turned her head toward Elena with a small shrug.
What the hell?
"Werewolves and whether or not the gene can be passed onto offspring and if the curse has to be triggered." Clare explained happily and Elena grinned in triumph. Clare turned back to the computer.
"How'd you know to do that?" Jeremy was kind of impressed.
"Well fuck." Damon muttered, eyeing Elena as Stefan groaned.
"We're twins," Elena said with a smirk, sliding off the bed. "When Clare gets like this, she's still kind of listening. She picks up keywords, and she loves talking about whatever she's doing." Elena made her way toward the door and turned, grinning. "Now you both have to dress like bronies. Have fun." She was obviously still upset at Stefan for keeping the Katherine thing from her.
Damon and Stefan watched Elena go, both looking flabbergasted, and Jeremy pulled his phone out to read Anna's text.
Anna: might show up if you're going (:
Jeremy grinned, glancing up to the two vampires. "We'll check out the mall for the PJs. I have to pick up Uncharted 2 at midnight anyway."
Damon threw him a dark look. "I'm not a taxi service."
Not two minutes later, Jeremy was sitting in the passenger seat. He knew Damon and Stefan were still a little rocky with their brotherly relationship, but it made him feel kind of cool sitting in the front while Stefan sat in the back. Made him feel like he was on equal ground with Damon.
"What's with all the candy?" Stefan wondered as Jeremy played with the radio, searching for something good to listen to. "There's three giant bags of skittles back here."
"It's kay, I'm dating a Fae." Damon dismissed, leaning across Jeremy to open the glove compartment, where he retrieved one of the many packages of pixie sticks. Jeez.
"I think you just want some Rainbow Dash in your mouth." Jeremy quipped as Queen hummed from the speakers, watching as Damon tilted his head back and downed an entire red pixie stick.
"Taste the rainbow, Damon." Stefan smirked and Jeremy lifted his fist, tapping his knuckles against Stefan's. Damon rolled his eyes and tore open the next pixie stick.
"To quote, shut your whore mouth Steffy, or I'll kill us." Damon threatened but it was difficult to take the vampire seriously, especially with the pink pixie stick hanging out of his mouth.
"Daaaamon, just killed a man," Stefan sang along teasingly to Queen.
"Put his mouth by his head," Jeremy added, playing along, the two of them smirking at an annoyed Damon. "Sank his fangs in, now he's dead!"
"Damoooon! Life had just begun! But now he's gone and thrown it aaaalll awaaaay! Daaaamooon!"
"Oooh!"
"Didn't mean to make you cry! If he's not back again this time tomorroooow…"
"You two should be professional singers," Damon shot sarcastically. "Duet together, tour the country."
"Carry on, carry on!" Jeremy and Stefan chimed. "As if nothing really matters!"
Hot Topic wasn't what it used to be, or maybe Jeremy just remembered it differently from when he was younger and a friend dared him to go inside. He remembered it being a dark, strange, place with scary teens dressed in chains and dyed mohawks, while a demonic voice screeched from hidden speakers. Now there was nothing scary or dark about the brightly lit store that sold overpriced merch and whatever cartoon character was in these days. Pokémon was apparently really cool again.
"What about this?" Stefan joked, holding up a brightly colored rainbow tutu to Damon's waist. Jeremy figured it might've been three inches long and if worn would leave nothing to the imagination. "I think you'd look really good."
Jeremy snorted.
The blue eyed vampire tilted his head in mock consideration, looking down at the tutu, popping a few skittles into his mouth. "Mmm. I look good in everything." Sure.
"I think you should wear it with the hoodie." Jeremy suggested with a grin, nodding toward the light blue hoodie with large cartoon eyes on the front. "Since you're Rainbow Dash."
"Taste the rainbow, become the rainbow." Stefan deadpanned.
"The skittle-brony jokes are getting stale." Damon scoffed, tearing the tutu from Stefan's hand.
"Nope, I think they're still funny as hell," Jeremy said with a grin, laughing as Damon lightly punched him on the arm.
"Neither one of you are going to be laughing when I wear the tutu and I'm sexy as hell." Damon was such an arrogant dick. Jeremy and Stefan exchanged amused glances as the older vampire tore the hoodie off the rake and cringed. "It has wings!" He flipped the hood up which had a bright rainbow mane and ears, his face scrunching up with displeasure. After a moment, he sent Jeremy and Stefan (both of who were sniggering) leveled glares. "I'm still going to look better than you."
As Damon stomped off to the cashier, Stefan turned to Jeremy, "Now Damon will be a glorious winged pony. What he always wanted."
"I don't think those wings can support his ego." Jeremy grinned.
"I can hear you assholes," Damon called across the store. "These wings will support me and my dreams, unlike you shitheads!"
"You need to flip the hood up," Stefan said as Damon zipped up the hoodie, looking more like a cat that just crawled out of a pool than anything. Jeremy tugged on the blue wings in the back and the older vampire turned, slapping his hands away.
"Get in the tutu." Jeremy demanded with a smirk. Damon shot him a look but there was a spark of amusement in his blue gaze. Acting as though it was the biggest hassle, he sighed and pulled the tutu out of the Hot Topic bag which he then slammed against Jeremy's chest. "Dick."
"Feeling shy?" Stefan asked as Damon wiggled the tutu up his legs.
"As much as I know you two are dying to see my junk, I don't think Clary would appreciate it if I pranced around with everything out on full display." Damon retorted sarcastically and Jeremy burst out laughing, unable to keep himself at bay, seeing Damon standing there with the tutu around his waist, wearing that ridiculous hoodie.
While it was true that Damon could pull the look off better than anyone else, the fact that this was a vampire, who had no issue with even killing Clare, made it a lot funnier to him. Stefan was soon laughing with him and their amusement bounced off each other's until Jeremy actually had to sit down from laughing so hard and Stefan was bent over.
Instead of becoming offended, Damon merely smirked darkly at them.
"Gonna tear your throat out," Damon said cheerfully, flashing a wicked grin at Jeremy, before disappearing behind the large candy stand. "Drink all your blood."
"I'm just saying," Jeremy shrugged a shoulder, completely unaffected by the threat. "I think you're developing a problem."
"Stef, try the Redbull." Damon said happily as he snatched a few packets of sour patch kids from the shelf. "Too bad you're doing the animal diet. Redbull and blood is such a kick."
Stefan raised his eyebrows. "When did you—wait, never mind. I don't want to know. I thought you weren't feeding from humans anymore." Other than Clare.
"This was before when we went to New York." Because that made it so much better. "It was Claryberry's idea." It was remarkable how proud Damon sounded. Jeremy was sure if Clare turned into a vampire and went on a killing spree, Damon would pat her on the head saying 'my adorable fairy vampire, doing cute little killing sprees!'
"Of course it was," Jeremy and Stefan sighed at the same time.
"But seriously… You might want to slow down with the sugary stuff, it'd suck if your fangs got a cavity. I don't think any dentist will want to help you out." Jeremy said, half teasing.
"Who cares about free will when Damon can compel?" Stefan brought up sarcastically and Damon rolled his eyes.
"I'm not going to get cavities."
Unfortunately for Stefan, the Rainbow Dash footie pajamas were right in the front of Spencer's.
"Do you think he's picking at the wall with a spoon, trying to tunnel his way out of the bathroom to make his escape?" Jeremy wondered, the two of them leaning against the wall outside of the restrooms, causing Damon to snort.
"Stef, hurry your ass up." Damon demanded lightly, popping a few sour patch kids into his mouth. He offered the bag to Jeremy who shook his head, refusing. "He just called us dicks."
"Tough love, Stefan." Jeremy shrugged, watching the same three giggling girls walk by. It was odd, because not only had they been eyeing Damon but they were eyeing him too.
Damon was either so far used to being ogled at that he didn't notice anymore, or he honestly just didn't care. But it was new for Jeremy, and he couldn't help but feel a little pleased by it. By their fourth time passing by, the prettiest of the three, a blonde with freckles, decided to venture over, her giggling friends loud a few feet away.
This literally had never happened to Jeremy.
How was he supposed to act?
Act cool.
Whatever that meant.
"Um," the girl said with a giggle, gaining Damon's attention. He smirked down at her, his entire demeanor immediately becoming flirty. Jeremy wondered if he would ever be able to look that cool. "We like your tutu."
Damon slung an arm over Jeremy's shoulders, tugging him closer. "Thanks, my boyfriend just got it for me."
What the hell? Jeremy snapped his head around to give Damon a look, annoyed. What the hell was Damon doing?
"Awww!" The girls giggled as the blonde's smile softened.
"You guys are so cute," the girl gushed and Damon nuzzled into Jeremy's neck. Goddamn it. "How long have you been together?"
"We're not together!" Jeremy insisted with a growl.
"Time is meaningless when we're together." Damon stated passionately, sounding like he really meant it and Jeremy attempted to wiggle away from the obviously unstable vampire. The sugar had clearly gone to his head. "Our love is forever and endless!"
"Damon!"
As soon as the giggling girls walked away, cooing and waving, Damon released Jeremy who flailed backwards, face pink and annoyed. The vampire merely smirked at him.
"I know you're taken, but you didn't have to make me seem gay!" Jeremy huffed, straightening his shirt.
"Mm, I was under the impression you had a thing for Hot Gamer Girl." Damon shrugged a shoulder, disinterested, as he popped a few more sour patch kids into his mouth. Hot Gamer—? Jeremy sputtered.
"Clare told you about Anna?" Of course she did! "I hardly know her! Clare has to stop shipping people, it's weird!"
Damon smirked. "I'm writing a fanfic. Besides," he raised—was that… was that his cellphone? When did Damon get a hold of his cellphone? "Can't wait to see you later Anna. Smiley face. Mmmhm, I know why you're really here."
Jeremy snatched the phone from the smirking vampire, cheeks warm. "We text a little, so what?"
"So there's a hot girl your age who likes what you like." Damon raised his eyebrows. "Do something about it. Don't be a dick. If you're not interested, make it clear. 'Cause you text her like you 'dig' her."
Jeremy shoved his phone back into his pocket, not knowing what to say. Damon tended to spout out advice randomly and sometimes Jeremy didn't know how to take it, or how to handle it. Sometimes it made him miss his Dad a little, and other times… it made him feel kind of good. Kind of important. Like someone gave a damn about him.
"Do I really have to walk around like this?" Stefan's voice cut in and Jeremy turned just as Damon choked on his sour patch kids.
Stefan looked hilarious in the footie pajamas. Like an oversized baby.
Jeremy fell backwards into the wall as his laughter consumed him, Damon over his choking fit and laughing just as loudly. The two of them slid down the wall.
"This stays between us." Stefan said lowly. "We take it to our graves."
"Yeah us and everybody else in the mall!" Jeremy howled with laughter.
"We're going to kill all the witnesses." Stefan said firmly. "Nobody leaves the mall alive."
Jeremy had agreed if Stefan treated them to Johnny Rockets he could take the footie pajamas off afterwards. It wasn't that he was selling out, they had agreed only an hour, and he was seriously hungry.
"And what would you like, sweetie?" The waitress asked Stefan kindly causing Jeremy to erupt into laughter again. Stefan smiled sarcastically.
"A rocket single with a coke." He paused. "And… cheese fries."
"Can we get a giant plate of cheese fries?" Jeremy asked as he calmed down and the waitress blinked, a frown on her face. He guessed she realized Stefan was just an asshole in a suit and not special needs.
"Of course." The waitress said with a smile, turning her eyes toward Damon. "And for you?"
"Just a strawberry milkshake, doll," Damon's grin was flirty and Stefan turned his head to give his brother a look as the waitress pranced away.
"A milkshake? Really?" Stefan arched a single eyebrow, but Jeremy couldn't take him seriously wearing what he was.
Damon clearly had a sugar addiction problem. Maybe it was a Salvatore trait to become easily addicted to things.
The older vampire shifted a shoulder upward, pulling out a bag of M&M's that Stefan snatched from him and tossed across the table at Jeremy. "My Claryberry devours excessive amounts of sugar."
As if that explained his addiction.
"I'm pretty sure she's consumed more sugar than the worst you and I have ever been combined when it comes to draining people of blood." Damon stated seriously with an eye roll when he noticed the way Jeremy and Stefan were staring at him. "What can I say? She tastes a lot like sweets, I'm kinda hooked."
…But Jeremy kind of got the feeling that Damon was just eating so much sugary crap because he missed her. Jeremy didn't know why it always threw him for a moment when Damon openly expressed his fondness for Clare. His entire attitude and demeanor changed, shifted. Damon was loudly, proudly, in love, or whatever, with Clare, he wanted the whole world to know that they belonged to each other. Jeremy might've been a little bit jealous.
If he could have just a fraction of what they had with someone, he'd be happy. It was different with Stefan and Elena, they had this old soul love going on, this quiet romance where they were just happy, surrounded by a blanket of fuzzy feelings and warmth. When Jeremy looked at them, they just seemed to belong together, like they were soulmates of many, many lifetimes over and they were finally back together.
But Damon and Clare… They were like the grand finale of fireworks that was never going to end, each rocket igniting another. They clearly cherished every second they spent in each other's company, like at any moment it would be their last. Sometimes Jeremy got the impression that they were holding their breathes until they were together again.
He wanted that.
He wanted to be that passionate about someone, wanted them to be just as passionate in return.
Stefan's groan tugged Jeremy's from his thoughts. "Do not turn her," he was saying. "Damon, I'm serious."
"If you turn Clare, you have to turn me too." Jeremy said immediately and realized, with slight surprise, that he was sort of serious. Hey, if his sister was going to live forever, then Jeremy should live forever too.
Damon snorted as the waitress returned with a large plate of cheese fries. "I don't have to do jackshit." Jeremy raised his eyebrows back at that vampire.
Clare would want him immortal. And Damon couldn't say no to Clare. He could scoff all he wanted, but he was turning Jeremy.
"Nobody is turning anyone." Stefan said flatly, shaking his head, as he munched on a few fries.
"You're turning me. You have to. Family sticks together, and it's what Clare would want." Jeremy said smugly as Damon scowled back at him. "How horrible is the transition? Am I going to have to miss school due to my inability to control my bloodlust?"
"You're not being turned." Stefan repeated with a frown. "It's not happening."
"Aw, c'mon, Steffy," Damon grinned sarcastically, nudging his brother with an elbow. "Haven't you always wanted a kid brother and sister?" Jeremy's eyebrows shot up as Stefan rolled his eyes.
"Are you saying you're going to marry my sister?" Jeremy had wanted to make Damon uncomfortable. Instead the vampire smirked haughtily.
"He's talking out of his ass," Stefan flicked a fry at Damon who batted it away, offended. "He's at that stage where he's writing 'C + D 5-EVER' in hearts on his notebooks."
Jeremy snorted with laughter as his phone went off. Of course it was Clare. To be nice (though both vampires would've been able to hear her just fine), Jeremy put the phone on speaker and set it down on the table.
"What's up, C?"
"Hey the guys you game with are from California, right?" Clare sounded half distracted and at the sound of her voice, Jeremy watched Damon's entire attention immediately shift toward his phone. Jeremy made an agreeing noise. "Can you ask if they live anywhere near Hawkins University? Apparently one of the leading experts on werewolf mythology and lore is a professor there."
"You're going to have strangers do your research for you?" Damon asked with a tsk.
"Damon!" Clare gushed happily and said vampire smirked, blue eyes lighting a shade. "And of course I am. Obviously."
"C, I'm not going to ask them that. That's kind of crazy. Just because they're from California doesn't mean they live anywhere near the school… And I'm not going to ask them to drive there either." Jeremy was such a weenie, but I kind of expected that from him.
Which is why I was in his room, logging into his skype with the intent to ask myself. "Whoops, too late," I said happily, grinning as I spotted the familiar gamertag, ZombieSpasm, as the display name.
"Clare," if Jeremy thought he could warn me away, he had another thing coming. This was important.
I typed a quick message: EMERGENCY and then clicked the video chat button. Bitch better answer. "Hey, it's no big deal, I'll just Glamour him into doing my dark bidding."
"I don't think it works that way," Stefan was there too?
"Yeah, it's not like compulsion. I'm pretty sure you have to be in person, as you influence the emotions." Damon agreed. I tilted my head toward my phone, which was sitting by the keyboard. Inconvenient.
"Then get your cute little vampire ass over here."
"He can't. Neither can Stefan." Jeremy informed me pleasantly. "Neither of them want you to see them dressed like this." That immediately caught my attention. How were they dressed…? "I'm sworn to secrecy."
I stared at my phone wistfully. It was strange, feeling both pleased and pouty. Pleased because I liked that Jeremy was socializing and making friends with the murderous undead, pouty because I was missing out on what I was sure was hilarious.
"Whoa, who are you?"
I glanced up from the phone to a pale boy who looked to be around Jeremy's age, short dark hair, adorable moles and long eyelashes which framed light brown eyes that peered back at me through skype. Next to him was a boy who looked like a nicer version of Tyler.
"It's me. Jeremy." I deadpanned and the Tyler look alike squinted, leaning closer.
"I'm not sure how to break this to you," the pale kid said. "But you're a girl."
"I was wondering what those bumps on my chest were," I said as though thoughtful, grabbing my boobs. "I thought it was cancer."
"I thought you said this call was an emergency," the Tyler look alike said to the pale boy who flailed his arms dramatically in some kind of spastic, twitchy, shrug.
"It is. I need to ask you something—" I began, pleasantly.
The pale kid pointed at me unhappily. "I already had my friend find that address for you, okay? I don't want to see another strip show!"
Oh my God. This is who Damon stripped to?
"Is he talking about Slater?" Stefan wondered. "You actually stripped for that?"
"Yeah. Zombie's girlfriend's aunt said it'd be a fair trade," Jeremy said as pale boy, Zombie (it was cute how they called each other by their gamertags), choked on spit, eyes growing wide.
"Wha-? N-no! We're not d-dating! We're friends!" He feverishly denied, shaking his head, cheeks red and blotchy. His Tyler look alike raised his eyebrows as though to say 'really?'
"Can… can you ask if they got the right address?" A shy, girlish, voice off screen asked shyly, stealing Zombie's attention. Probably his girlfriend.
"Yup. Thanks. He's dead now. We killed him." I grinned merrily.
"You killed Slater?!" Stefan hissed angrily.
"Staked him right in the chest." Damon said happily.
"Dude, you can't say that shit out loud. Zombie's dad is a cop!"
Whoops.
Zombie and his friend were eyeing me oddly. Well—Zombie was making a face while his friend looked annoyed.
"So… are you guys like… hunters?" Zombies asked. "Like is this a part of your roleplay game?"
"No, we're just murderers," Damon chimed and I waved my hand about airily, dismissing his comment. "Ouch! Stef, what did I say about rough housing?"
"Okay, here's what I need to know. Is there a Hawkins University by you?" A twitch of recognition from Zombie's end was all I needed and I beamed. "I need to get into contact with a Professor Eleanor Black."
"Oh!" The girl off screen cried suddenly, stumbling forward in a mess of red hair. She nearly crashed into Zombie who flailed out of his seat in surprise, but she paid him no mind, cheeks flushing as she pushed her old fashioned black glasses up the bridge of her nose. "That's my Nona!"
"It's a small world after all," Jeremy began to sing only to swear loudly as I assumed Damon (or Stefan) smacked him.
I grinned widely at the pretty red haired girl, bouncing in my seat excitedly. "Really?" This was beyond perfect. It was almost creepy that Jeremy was gamer friends with the guy's girlfriend whose grandmommy was the exact person I needed to speak with.
"What would you like to know? I'm presuming you're interested in supernatural folklore…?" The girl cut right to the chase, I liked it. She sat straighter in the computer chair as Zombie leaning against the desk next to her. "I'm certain I can answer any questions of yours, it's my specialty."
I wanted to know how much she knew. Drumming my fingertips over the desk, I leaned closer to the screen, lowering my voice. "What do you know of the moonstone?" The girl's hazel eyes peered sharply into mine, an almost knowing look in them. As if she knew I was testing her.
"I'm going to the bathroom," the Tyler look alike said with a sigh, standing. Rude. "When I get back, I really want to get started on our project, okay? Enough with the MMO stuff."
Zombie was quick to take the seat he had abandoned.
"The moonstone," Red, as I was now calling her, repeated, as though to clarify what I had said. I nodded. "It can break the moon-and-sun curse with the blood of a werewolf, vampire and the Petrova doppelgänger. The ritual was only attempted once, from my knowledge, in 1492."
Okay, so maybe I was a little impressed. Red knew her shit.
"Whoa. Whoa, whoa, whoa. Wait," her boyfriend looked between us, holding his hands out as though he needed to physically stop our conversation. "What is this? What curse?"
"The moon-and-sun curse. If vampires break the curse, they can walk in daylight," Red began to explain, tilting her head toward her boyfriend who blinked rapidly.
"Vampires are—are real?"
"And if a werewolf breaks the curse, he can transform at will, or not at all if he so chooses." I grinned as Zombie choked, his fingers twitching nervously.
"Wa-wait! You're—you're saying that—that this curse can… can make it so Sc—so that werewolves don't have to be werewolves anymore?!" He sputtered, jolting out of his chair and swirling his head around to Red. "Why didn't you tell me!"
Red held his stare evenly. "Nobody knows where the moonstone is, or if the Petrova doppelgänger is even around. It wasn't relevant." She pushed her glasses up the bridge of her nose, turning back to me calmly. "I also didn't take you for a murderer. That's what the ritual calls for. Sacrifices."
"Yeah, Twitchy," I bobbed my head with a teasing grin as he sank in his seat. I decided to rename him. "Sheesh."
Twitchy sulked in his seat while Red smiled faintly. "Now that you're done testing my knowledge," ooh, she was totally calling me out on it too. "What do you really want to know?"
I leaned back in the computer chair, lazily. "Can werewolves pass their genes onto their offspring? And if so, is the curse triggered by something? Or do they just one day become?"
"Why don't you read Harry Potter?" Twitchy offered sarcastically but I pointedly ignored him.
"Can I ask why the interest?" Red asked quietly, her gaze slightly guarded. Interesting.
"I'm going to be frank with you, Red, I need to know. I need to know. I can't explain myself," because who the hell knew who she was, and if I told her I was certain the moonstone was in Mystic Falls and Katherine wasn't—well… that was dangerous. Especially if I was right about someone they knew was a werewolf, given Twitchy's reactions and the guarded look Red was giving me. Who knew where anyone's loyalties were when it came to supernatural things. "What if I tell you something about the moonstone, if you answer my two questions?"
There was something about Red that I really liked. I saw a sliver of myself in her. Maybe it was the flicker of understanding when I told her I needed to know, maybe it was the obvious love for research. I kind of respected the girl. I saw the same yearning to know glow in her gaze.
"The werewolf gene is genetic, yes. Your second question would depend on which branch of werewolves the child—person—is from." She began in her smooth, soft, voice while Twitchy gaped at her, like he couldn't believe she was telling me this. "In 1318 two different werewolf head families, the Kiaakt and the T'ski broke a part, which are now the only two surviving lines. In 1334, the Kiaakt had pleaded with a powerful witch to suppress the curse, as they had longed for a more... normal life. But everything in nature has a balance, and so if the curse is triggered, they have zero control during full moons and their transformations are one of the most painful. If it's genetic, he or she would have to become a murderer for the curse to be triggered. They're the only werewolves that turn into actual wolves." She paused and turned around, as though to look at someone. She turned back around and smiled apologetically. "The second branch of werewolves, the T'ski family, can transform even if it isn't during the full moon or even at night—usually because of heightened emotions, like rage. They don't turn into wolves, usually, as the gene has learned control, even if it's passed on through a bite."
Twitchy was staring at Red admiringly, as though deeply impressed. She quelled the once insatiable fire that had blazed so obsessively within me. She knew her shit. Like she really knew her shit and I couldn't help but feel... respect. And maybe even a little giddy. I grinned at her warmly, letting the information roll through me. There was so much more to research now, but I had a base, and I craved to know even more. But this was enough. Now I knew it was possible, Tyler might've been a werewolf. The Lockwoods all might've been werewolves, and that might've been the reason Katherinehad come to Mystic Falls in the first place.
I could turn the computer off right now, I could lie and not live up to my end of the bargain. But the spark to know was in her gaze, and I realized I couldn't deny her.
I leaned closer again. "Don't repeat what I'm about to tell you." I said quickly and her hazel eyes locked with mine. She leaned closer to the screen as well. "I mean it. Tell no one. The moon-and-sun curse is a lie. It's a front for something else entirely, something I don't yet know. Vampires do not need to break the curse to walk in daylight, there are… other means to achieve that. Elijah and Klaus Mikaelson. Those names are tied to the rumors and they're the ones who will literally stop at nothing to get their hands on the moonstone. It's personal for them."
"Clary what the fuck?" Damon snapped and I nearly forgot they were still on the other line. With the serious moment now broken, I beamed at the screen.
"Okay, bye! Don't get killed by knowing so much shit, kay!" I waved, logging off of Jeremy's skype. "It was a fair trade, D. She's like me. She lives for the knowledge."
"We don't know who the fuck that is or who she knows." Damon growled. "You don't tell people that shit!"
"Guess we're going to California. Time to murder again." Jeremy chimed sarcastically.
Drama queens.
"Bring me home something to eat." I requested pleasantly.
"You get dick." Damon said with a huff, and my phone let me know the call had immediately ended. I grinned.
Damon had somehow managed to talk them into going to Macy's as he wanted to 'check something out'. Honestly, Jeremy was certain all Damon wanted to do was keep Stefan in the footie pajamas for as long as possible. Which was whatever, he wasn't complaining. Stefan, on the other hand, was growing impatient. He debated on just leaving, and wasn't so sure why he was even allowing himself to be dragged around wearing this ridiculous thing. …Or why he was actually (kind of maybe) enjoying himself. It didn't make sense.
Disinterestedly, Jeremy stared at the overly fluffy hot pink pillow. With a sudden grin, he picked up the pillow and turned around, intent on smacking Stefan in the face with it—only to bounce backwards, his heart jumping into his throat. Alaric stood a few feet away, staring back at him with raised eyebrows.
Oh shit.
"Uh, hey," Jeremy was fumbling, and Stefan, who picked up on his heart rate, turned around only to stiffen upon seeing Alaric. "Weird to see you outside of class…" he attempted to joke while trying to think up something to say to quickly (but not rudely) excuse them.
"I don't… want to know." Alaric said good-naturedly, amused. He grinned at the two of them, shaking his head. Stefan had seemed like such a quiet, loner type. Alaric wasn't sure why he was wearing—whatever that was. "Please, just don't explain. I'm going to pretend I never saw this."
They looked so horrified to have been caught out and about like that too. Stefan's green eyes were wide and his cheeks were rapidly growing red as he shifted in obvious discomfort. "It—it was a bet! I don't actually walk around like this!" He insisted hurriedly and Alaric opened his mouth, to assure him it was fine.
"Do you think she'll like these?" Damon wondered, slinking in front of Jeremy and Stefan, with a package of yellow bed sheets in hand. He was tired of hopping into bed with Minnie Mouse, and these would go along with Clarissa's walls. He paused as Jeremy and Stefan grimaced.
What the hell was that about?
He rose his eyebrows, blue eyes shifting between the two of them. He turned around, facing some jackass. Was he the reason for the discomfort? Because Damon had no problem telling him to screw off.
The moment Alaric and the dark haired guy made eye contact, Alaric knew who he was. A chill swept through him—Isobel's murderer was standing two feet away from him. Her murderer. Here. In front of him. For a wild moment, he thought about lunging—he had a stake hidden on him, he could do it. Instead, Alaric smiled with mock friendliness. A moment later, he registered the choice of clothing, and felt a flicker of confusion fill him. A tutu? And that hoodie…
This is who killed his Isobel? He was an idiot.
"Well, it was great seeing you, but we have to go," Stefan said pleasantly as Damon clearly picked up on Alaric's mood change. Damon tilted his head to glance between Stefan and Jeremy, their unease obvious, before he turned back around to Alaric with slightly narrowed blue eyes.
"Please excuse my rude little brother," Damon said with a charming grin and Alaric was taken aback for a moment. Brother? Than that meant Stefan was… "I'm Damon Salvatore."
"Alaric Saltzman," Alaric's smile looked pretty friendly and he might've passed it off for such if his gaze hadn't darkened. He offered a hand. "I'm their history teacher."
Of course this was Alaric, and of fucking course Damon would meet him (officially) wearing a tutu. This was not how Damon wanted their first meeting to go, he was a scary vampire damn it. Brushing aside the slight annoyance that prickled, Damon smiled mockingly, taking his hand.
"Do you, uh, normally go out dressed like this?" Alaric asked with hostile friendliness, his smile becoming pointed, his playful joke filled with malice. Damon's mocking smile turned sarcastic and it was like watching a train wreck, Jeremy couldn't look away.
Stefan thought they were more like two queen bee girls, obviously hating on each other while acting like best friends. He'd rather this than a fight in the middle of Macy's, though.
"Jer won a bet," Damon said with mock warmth and Jeremy winced. "What can I say?"
Alaric's gaze slid toward Jeremy and he was relieved the stare wasn't accusing. "Oh? You three are close, then?" Alaric wasn't sure what to make of this. Stefan had seemed like a decent kid, and what did that mean for Jeremy? Was he in trouble…? But why would two vampires dress up like this…?
"Mmhm, extremely." Damon stepped closer to Jeremy and Alaric's eyes narrowed a fraction, his smile becoming more cold. Stefan knew what was about to come flying out of his mouth next and buried his face in his palms. "I'm dating his sister, Clary."
The temperature surrounding them literally dropped. Stefan lifted his head, exchanging a look with Jeremy. Alaric's smile grew darker and he was flat out glaring now.
"Aren't you a little too old to be dating Rissy?" Alaric asked lightly and it pissed Damon off.
"What are you, her father?" Damon threw back tauntingly and the two locked in a stare.
"Well," Jeremy coughed loudly. "We have to go. Like—now. So…"
Stefan snatched Damon's arm, pulling. "See you tomorrow, Mr. Saltzman." Please don't bring stakes to school.
"It was good meeting you, Ric." Damon said pleasantly, his grin turning feral. "Good luck with whole teaching history thing. That subject is my least favorite, I have a terrible habit of repeating it."
The threat was so clear and so sinister that Jeremy froze, his breath catching in his throat. Without looking back at the history teacher, he quickly followed after the two vampires. It was a little sickening how true that was, as Damon had already repeated history by killing Clare. A few times.
But he trusted Damon.
He trusted Damon more than the majority of the people he knew.
"Dude, you need to—" Jeremy began and Damon cut it off with a scoff.
"He wants to stake me in the heart, I don't have to be polite to him." Damon said with an eye roll, clearly agitated, and Jeremy shook his head.
"I was going to say you need to keep an eye on him. Clare… gets really weird about him." Both vampires turned to look at him. "Like it might be… supernatural." Jeremy was weirded out enough by the whole thing to be a little worried. "I mean, he shows up out of the blue? And Clare just likes him for no reason? She's spiking his coffee with vervain and when I question her, she gets angry and says we have to protect him."
Damon and Stefan both narrowed their eyes, Stefan thoughtful, Damon angry. The darker haired vampire glanced over his shoulder, but Alaric was gone.
It was almost one in the morning when Damon crept into Clarissa's bedroom. They'd just got back from the mall and Jeremy had talked Stefan into playing his new game with him all night. Who needed sleep? If Jeremy was bummed Hot Gamer Girl bailed, he didn't show it and Damon was still irritated by Teacher to push the matter.
Clarissa was surprisingly fast asleep and Damon's gaze swept across her face, feeling warmed by the sight of her. Unable to deny himself, he crawled into the bed. She snuggled closer, seeking his warmth, seeking him and he buried his face in the crook of her neck, breathing her in. Little by little the irritation fell away, her skin on his bringing a rush of relief, calming him.
"Mmm," Clarissa was stirring awake, her arms curling around his neck. "You brought me the D." Her voice was husky with sleep and Damon's lips lifted into a smirk. He pressed his mouth to her neck, planting an open mouth kiss on her flesh, right where her pulse fluttered.
Her sigh of pleasure hummed though him as continued trailing his mouth up her neck. Clarissa pulled him closer, her arms moving down his back only to pause, tugging on one of the wings on the hoodie.
"I'm wearing Rainbow Dash," Damon mumbled, lightly tugging on her earlobe with blunt teeth. Her soft moan made his fangs throb with hunger, his hand greedily sliding up her side, fingers pulsing with the need to touch her skin. He was trying to keep himself in check, he was kissing her neck for a reason.
But the way she moaned, and the way she tasted, and the way she felt against him—Damon was having trouble thinking, a haze of lust clouding his thoughts. She made him want her so damn bad.
"Who…?" Clarissa was breathless and Damon captured her mouth with his, at the end of his restraint. He needed to taste her now. Her fingers sank into his hair as he swept his tongue into her sweet mouth, her moan sparking a heat that washed over him as her fingers tightened.
She pulled his face closer to hers, sucking on his tongue with sudden fervor. Knew it. Damon smirked and let her push him back, flipping their positions as she rolled on top of him, straddling his waist. There was something about Clarissa taking control that turned Damon on so bad. His pulse jumped excitedly as she hungrily explored his mouth, her tongue sliding over his, commanding and dominating. Her warm fingers gripped his face, like she couldn't get enough of him, like she needed him closer. It dragged a groan out of him. His fangs ached and throbbed, and he grasped her hip, guiding her movement so she was slowly grinding into him. Fuck.
"Damon," she panted between messy, urgent, kisses. His name was soaked with hunger and he growled, fingers tightening on her hip, pressing her harder against him. She gasped and it sent him wild. He wanted to tear more sounds from her. "You taste—so good." Her eyes were bright in the darkness, her hair hanging off one shoulder, creating a curtain of black silk. He wanted to slam her down on the bed, wanted to grab her hair, wanted to touch her, wanted to make her feel so damn good.
"I've been eating nothing but sugar," he informed her, smirking, feeling a little crazy with the way her heart fluttered.
She grabbed his face, pulling him into another demanding kiss. He was losing control, fast. He needed to slow it down, otherwise when he bit her, her lust would take control and his plan would be long forgotten. Damon sat up, pulling her lower in his lap, her legs on either side of him. He gently grasped her chin between his thumb and index finger, caressing her skin as he slowed the kiss down.
"I'm addicted. It's a crisis." He quoted back at her, his voice low, and Clarissa's bright gaze was both adoring and hungry. His fangs slid out as his control flickered and he slowly dragged his thumb across her bottom lip.
Clarissa was so obviously his at this point, he could do anything with her. That thought did nothing for his self-control. He drew her face closer to his, tilting her head, her heartbeat dancing loudly as his mouth softly met her neck. He brushed his mouth down her throat lightly and her hands crept up his chest and over his shoulders, as she continued making soft noises of pleasure that drove him wild. Gently, slowly, he sank his fangs into her flesh and her fingers curled as she drew in a sharp breath, shivering.
Her blood was sweet in his mouth to the point where he nearly moaned and then it was pure Clarissa. Everywhere her blood delightedly bounced off of inside of him lit up brightly. Her sweet, adoring, affection flouncing about, happily leading him into a burningly bright, blissful, euphoria. Damon was melting, a mess of giddiness, as he was so very much happily lost within her. Lost in her vast, endless, bright glee. Lost in the pure affection she held for him. He felt so whole once her heart was dancing happily, warmly, in his chest again, like it was meant to be there. Like they were meant to be connected.
Damon was endlessly in awe of his birdhouse, endlessly breathless with how much she adored him and how deep her feelings ran. He liked being able to feel her slowly and happily falling for him the way he was for her. His lips tingled against her skin, her blood singing at the contact. Waves of her desire spilled into his, tangling, and Damon withdrew his fangs to kiss the spot he'd bitten into. He couldn't let himself be swept up right now.
"Clarissa," he murmured, nuzzling affectionately into her, trying to keep himself from flipping her over onto the bed and kissing her. Her fingers were weaving through his hair, happiness dancing at the sound of her name. But he needed to know what was going on inside of his hummingbird when it came to Teacher. "I bumped into Alaric today."
Delight. Pure delight. It was warm and sunny, almost mimicking the way she felt whenever he brought up Jeremy, but it was different. He could feel her mystified confusion over it brimming under the surface, and there was a slight need to be delighted. Damon's fingers tightened around her hips.
"He's a pretty cool guy," she said happily, voice filled with admiration that irritated Damon. His irritation wasn't enough to drown out his rising unease. Something was influencing her feelings about Alaric and he wanted to know why. "I hope you guys don't try to kill each other."
Damon ran the pad of his thumb across her collarbone, enjoying the affectionate glee that rose up at his touch and the way her blood happily twirled at the contact. "And if I did kill him?"
Miffed irritation. Confusion. Sorrow. More confusion. And a hiss of protectiveness flared up within her. Clarissa was fumbling, he could feel the confusion dominating everything else she was feeling—torn between siding with him, and the strange demand that swirled inside of her. Damon bit the inside of his cheek as it spilled into him.
"I—I don't… We have to protect him."
His gaze locked with hers.
"Damon, we have to protect him," even as she said it, firmly, he felt her frustrated confusion grow and it pissed the hell out of him. He hated whatever this was—if she had felt that way about Alaric herself, fine, he'd respect it (mostly), but it wasn't her.
"Who is 'we'?" He wondered quietly and she blinked, her confusion growing. "You said we have to protect him. Who is we and what are we protecting him from?"
Clarissa blinked again, her stunned surprise blazing through him. "I… I don't know, we just have to." Unease shifted through her and she sat back, the need to distance herself, as though it'd help her think clearly, loud.
"Why?" He didn't fucking like that she was feeling uneasy, he didn't fucking like that something—Alaric? Fairies?—could make her feel a certain way.
"Because we fucking have to, okay?" She snapped, her confusion turning to anger quickly, blue-gray eyes flashing at him. The hell did she have to take this out on him for?
This need was seeping into him, he realized, because he found himself promising. "Fine." He huffed, wanting to unwind her, to chase away the irritation, to soothe away the frightened confusion. He smirked at her playfully. "The shit I do for you, I swear…" but most of all, he just wanted her to be happy. And until he could figure out what this was, and how to break it, he would appease her.
Her awkward, confused, relief was his relief. This instantly fell into an impish glee that suddenly bounced through him from her and she wrapped her arms around his neck. His eyebrows rose slowly as he gazed at her curiously, a mischievous grin sneaking across her lips.
"Stay the night."
It wasn't a request.
And even if it was, it would be impossible to refuse her. Not when she looked at him like that, not when it was already difficult as hell to keep his hands off her. There was a quieter part of him that knew, even if she didn't want him spending the nights with her, he'd secretly do it anyway. The idea that there was something they couldn't see, that could be in her room at any given time, left him feeling anxious. And pissed. But mostly anxious. He would be damned if he let anything happen to Clarissa.
Smirking, Damon shoved her from his lap, gracefully gliding from the bed. Clarissa rolled onto her side, peering up at him, and Damon would be lying if he said he didn't make a show of pulling off this damned hoodie, or went a little extra slow when undoing his belt. Maybe he liked the way her gaze was locked onto him, maybe he liked the way her heart skipped inside his chest, maybe he liked the way her awe and desire coursed through him. It rolled through him in lazy waves and his smirk grew, making her heart beat faster.
"I'm not a piece of meat for you to ogle and objectify with your eyes, Clary," he teased playfully, kicking his jeans across the room.
"Yes you are. You're a gym teacher. Now cuddle me." Clarissa chimed back in a playful demand and Damon snorted as his want to do whatever the hell she wanted grew.
"You don't have to Glamour me, princess," he told her, crawling into the bed, easily scooping her into his arms and drawing her closer. Clarissa curled around him, nuzzling her face into his chest, her delight spiking his.
"I don't know how to turn it off," sleep traced her words and hung around her, making him feel suddenly tired when he had been wide awake before. Son of a dick. "I think it happens by itself when I really want something."
Damon slid his fingers through her hair, feeling pleased. "Maybe we should send you to fairy bootcamp."
"Nnnhm, I want to be bestowed with gifts forever. Strangers should feel the need to make me king."
Damon smirked. Brat.
Wednesday, October 13th
That was the third person Stefan had never seen before who had mentioned something cat related to him. Right out of the blue. Smiling at him like he was supposed to be in on the inside joke. Puzzled, Stefan frowned, watching the kid walk away from him. What was surprised kitty?
Thursday, October 14th
The whole about-to-say-something-and-then-not thing was really driving me up a wall. I hated that. Especially since it was all over Alaric's face. He even opened his mouth only to close it. It was before classes, so it was just us in the classroom.
"Whatever you want to say, just say it." It was best to be completely direct when it came to this kind of thing. Alaric didn't even seem fazed by how blunt I was being, in fact he looked like he was just waiting around for me to finally confront him.
Damn it, Isobel. Why are we so alike? I liked throwing people.
Alaric leaned against his desk, casually. I kind of got the impression that's how Alaric worked, acted pretty calm and casual when he was uncomfortable. "I, uh, bumped into Damon." He picked up his coffee, staring down at it, and I stared back at him.
Why was this so awkward?
Oh right.
He thinks Damon killed his wife.
And I look like her.
Thanks, Damon.
He tilted his head slightly, looking sideways at me, slowly turning the coffee in his hands. "Your aunt doesn't really like you dating an older guy…"
We weren't dating! We were just… Special friends. That were exclusive. To each other. I shifted, a combination of strange feelings growing. Giddy that Alaric was talking to Jenna (maybe he was lying), pleasantly surprised that Alaric cared (of course he cared, I look like Isobel! He probably only sees Isobel!), and guilty because for some bizarre reason I cared about what he thought.
"She's willing to give him a chance." I grinned at him teasingly, trying to keep it light. Alaric's gaze met mine.
We stood in silence for a few seconds, Alaric clearly debating on what to say next. Finally, he said seriously, "If he ever does something you don't like, or hurts you in any kind of way, let me know." Oh my God.
"Teach history by daylight, become a masked vigilante by moonlight, huh?" If I ever spotted Alaric swinging from rooftops dressed like Batman, my life would forever be complete and I could die happy. A grin twitched across his face.
"It's actually a requirement of all history teachers." Alaric joked back, taking a sip of the coffee I made. He made a face. "You're… uh, maybe have Elena make this instead?"
Rude.
"Keep drinking it, jerk. I'm leaving." I huffed, skipping towards the door.
"Don't be late for class again," Alaric reminded, glancing up toward the clock. "It starts in three minutes."
I merely grinned at him before making my way to James' locker to meet up with Caroline. She was a pain in the ass and could've met me by the door, since Alaric's class was on the way to James' locker, but noooo. Whatever.
CAN I JUST EXPLAIN TO YOU A THING REAL QUICK, OKAY. THE BRONIES THING CAN'T BE ALL PINNED ON ME!
OKAY.
This is all Carleigh's fault. It was like 2AM, and I don't know what the fuck was happening, but I'm pretty sure we were both on drugs. Or maybe a little manic, I dunno! She looks up at me after doing a line of pixie sticks, "Slater was a Brony." Followed by. "You know Slater ships Derpy and Dr Whooves." and "We'd taint Damon with more darkness than 150 years of being a vampire"
I'M 1000000% DONE WITH LIFE.
But then thegrandtootah, melissalzn, cheesecakeluver7, vampfuckerysquared, sunpixie2000, and my bb Jackieoh LIKE THE IDEA. AND ENCOURAGED IT. SO THEY ARE TO BLAME JUST AS MUCH. OKAY GUYS.
Also, a few of you asked about Derek Hale being mentioned in the Fae Guide-I'M SO SORRY THAT WAS A JOKE!
Q: Teen Wolf?
You DO NOT need to know anything about Teen Wolf! However, there will be a crossover happening with JackieOh which will involve TVD things, rather than Teen Wolf things. You should swing by JackieOh's Perch to get to know Maureen!
Gah.
I don't actually have time to answer questions like normally-I was supposed to leave like three minutes ago. Shit.
ASJFBHJFAF BUT ANYWAY! THANK YOU SO SO SO SO SO SO FRIGGIN MUCH FOR ALL THE REVIEWS! HOLY SHIT. GUYS. WE BROKE 700! I SERIOUSLY LOVE YOU GUYS. I feel like we need to celebrate. You guys are the BEST! Your kind words and love and support and encouragement seriously mean the world to me! I hope you enjoyed the chapter and I hope I can continue making you all happy. I WRITE FOR YOU. THIS IS YOUR STORY!