#misanthropesolo

[deadmisanthrope]

#MisanthropeSolo - Rêve Noir

Rêve Noir - Domenico Sigalas

https://youtu.be/KEwP2fA7PGY

As I open the closet that hadn't been opened for over a century, the dark wooden doors creak as the old brass hinges turn, the smell of the past strikes me, and along with it all those memories I thought were long gone, bleached out, faded, not recalled ever since.

Inside the massive cabinet, hidden from time itself and now exposed to me for the first time in a long time, well-known items, once dear to me, like my father's pocket watch - a precious gem, not because it was his, but because I liked it, liked the sound of it, liked the weight in my hand and how it ticked constantly, always reliable if there was someone who wound it up every once in a while -, my mother's music box, which was meant to go to Stefan after she had passed away, but I selfishly kept it for myself. Stefan had his memories of her. The untainted memories of a child, too young to see what was going on behind closed doors in the world of adults. But I knew. I had seen. I had heard. Witnessed. And I still remember vividly.

Carefully I lift the box from the shelf, leaving a dark square where the wood wasn't exposed to the decay of the past century, blow the dust from the casket and slowly turn the key-shaped screw at the backside to wind up the mechanism. A strange melancholia, like a heavy blanket encloses me as the melody reaches my ear, and I open the marquetry adorned lid, as I always used to as a child to watch the comb-shaped piece of metal struck by the small pins on the barrel, turning inside the box, slowly and constantly.

Placing the music box back on the shelf while its strangely soothing song fills the room with not just the mere tune but with a certain atmosphere I hadn't felt in a long time but which still comes naturally to me, my eyes roam further through the shelves inside the closet, to explore the long lost treasures of a distant life that once was mine.

On another board, a couple of books I used to read. I was far too young to understand the deeper meaning of the words when I started to read Baudelaire, but I already appreciated the way he painted pictures of a world I had yet to explore by only using words. Words we all knew. Words we all used. And yet he managed to use them in a way I never experienced before. I even had an original copy from france which I used to learn french autodidactic. With moderate success, to say the least. Next to it a copy of Dante's "la Commedia", an anthology of Poe, well-thumbed, and other books, some of them prosaic novellas, but my predilection was clearly for poetries. Of course my father had other plans for his eldest son than letting him waste time with literature, music, poetry and other unprofitable arts. But I still cherished it as a hobby.

Furthermore, a photograph of Katherine, hidden in another book, but now partly revealed to me; I apparently had to hurry to put it back the last time I took it out, but were too sloppy to hide it properly, so a corner of the photograph became yellow over the years, decades, centuries. I hid it not only from Stefan, but from everyone. Even from her. I used to look at it every once in a while. Sometimes, when I wrote, I liked to place it on the desk next to me, so a part of her was always present and inspired me with more than just her obvious beauty. I also took it out to say her good night, whenever she was too exhausted, too tired to meet me. Of course I was always polite and decent; bid her farewell at  the door to her room when she asked me to, but was yet bold enough to steal a kiss at any given opportunity. Back then I was sure she secretly liked it.

Not much is left of the clothes that were stored in the closet. Generations of moths had feasted on the now mere rags, covered in dust - materialized time - but I can still recall most of the familar attire. The characteristic gray of the confederate army uniform. One of the many chapters in my life I'd like to erase, rip out of the book and burn the pages. After I had returned from the battlefield - deserted, they called it; looking out for myself and do what was reasonable is what I called it, and still do - it had become almost impossible to get into my father's good graces. I came back as an even greater disappointment to him and a shame to my family. The nightmares haunted me for a long time, and sometimes still do. Support for returning soldiers were an alien concept back then, and even when I look at it today, people still have no idea what horrors you have to face; things no human being should ever witness, and yet I think that a species capable of such bestiality deserves just that.

Besides the uniform there are several other pieces, beyond recognition, gone forever. But a surprisingly well preserved sleeve that stands out between the rotting cloths catches my attention.

And as I run my fingers casually along the fabric, take out what appears to be a tailcoat, fragments of the past flare up in my mind. Voices. Laughter. People whose names I don't recall. Music. Dancing. But not me.

I can see myself standing a little aside, right after I had finished a light conversation with a friend of the family, George Lockwood, more to distract myself than actually listening to him. Father would have appreciated to see me being more involved, more interested in the founding family's business. Politics. What an ineffably prosaic sort of pastime. Nothing more it was to me, back those days. And why should I care about the fate of Mystic Falls... when all I cared about... was in the center of the room, dressed in a blue gown and drawing everyone's attention, clinging to my brother's arm as he led her through the crowd, swaggering like a peacock in courtship.

She had chosen him to accompany her on the founders ball. I shouldn't be too worried about my little brother's affection for her, rather should be thankful that he kept her company while I was away, spending days at a confederate army camp just outside Richmond and helping to defend the south. Because it was just that, right? Just a harmless infatuation. But I couldn't help feeling a light sting at the scenery playing out right in front of me. Little did I know about the importance of the founders council in my future life; I just learned about the actual existence of vampires and that my beloved Katherine was one of them, which is why I low-key wished, hoped, that it would have been me who would have had the joy, the honor of being her escort for the dance.

Because of the secret we shared and the trust she put in me by telling me the truth, there was no doubt, that she appreciated my company. Still I remember vividly how we used to spend numerous afternoons wandering in the garden of my family's estate or simply roamed through the village until we reached the Fell's property with the town's church.

And now she seemed to have chosen my brother over me. Him, who whenever the topic of vampires was mentioned, shuddered with fear and disgust. He needs more convincing, I thought back then. She is just making an effort to show him that there is truly no difference between us, I tried to reassure myself. A fool I was. No compulsion needed. Just the feeling that someone cared about my point of view was enough.

From this day on, my courting became bolder. More apparent and obvious for everyone around us. I strolled through town with her, accompanied her when she visited her friend Pearl and made sure everyone saw us. I wanted this to be the image people would memorize. Not the dance at the founder's ball. And she welcomed the additional attention and my interest in her way of living. An inquisitive student I was, eager and hungry for knowledge. I wanted to learn everything and - once she would deem me ready - become one of hers and be with her forever. At night I snuck out of the house to join her in the woods where she showed me to lie in wait. Where she showed me how to bait, how to feed, how to kill...

And the more time I spent with her, the more I diverged from father and my brother; we grew apart, even cold. My brother and I, inseparable all summer, long before she stepped into the picture, rarely talked anymore. Whenever we exchanged words, it led to arguing, no matter how trivial the conversation started out. Especially since he was insistent in persuading father regarding his views on vampires. He even wanted to educate the town council and thought he could sway them. It was his naiveté that eventually led to the events that marked a turning point in our lives: The night of September 25th, 1864.  

Another item veiled by shadows and dust at the bottom of the closet, now brought to light by removing the tailcoat from the hanging rail diverts my attention from the melancholic retrospection of having to share her and - once the object is identified - shoves me right into another, direful memory. Carelessly I place the hook of the coathanger back on the rail, uncaring for possible creases that - over time - might ruin the well-preserved fabric forever and crouch in front of the ancient furniture to reach for what I now realize is not neatly placed on one of the shelving for a reason.

I remember, I felt cold. Cold to the point that every fiber of my body hurt and refused to move or even shift its position. I also remember the smell of damp leaves and poached up soil. There was no sound at first and I felt like floating but at the same time under heavy pressure. Like the air itself was closing and tightening around me. It was a curious feeling and while my subconsciousness began to wrap around it and explore it, I suddenly gasped for air, realizing that I haven't been breathing for quite some time. My body, now finally being able to move, jolts into a sitting position and panic filled me when more impressions kept crashing down on me. Voices, yelling men and screaming women, but far away and even more distant, smoke. And being as cold as the peaty ground I even thought I could feel the warmth of a fire that must have been at least a mile away. I took a quick look around and found myself alone, absent of any company that my foggy memory insisted on. As I looked over my shoulder, I noticed ruts in the ground that led away from my place and... towards the church. Towards the screams and the smoke.

Katherine! It shot through my head and an ice cold fist clutched at my heart. And I jumped to my feet. And I ran. I ran faster than ever before. Perhaps faster than humanly possible.

When I reached the church, I found it blazing fiercely and I quailed. Several carriages waited in the courtyard and those few people who stood outside, armed with whatever they could find, were cheering at the fire, raising their arms with joy, rejoicing. Closer to my own position I rather heard than saw poor little Anna weeping for her mother, eyes red and watery with tears fixed on the conflagration. And instead of giving each other  solace, we both just watched in horror, too afraid to leave the cover of the trees, for we might have been thrown into the burning church as well, if we got caught.

Long after dawn and long after the sun reached and transcended its zenith, when the people of Mystic Falls were sure that all vampires were perished in the fire and left to probably celebrate, I dared to leave the shadows and slowly approached what was left of the former largest building in town. Most of the stone walls had come down and beneath them I could still feel the heat coming from embers that refused to stop licking at the remains of wooden beams. As I slid my feet through the ashes and took the few steps that used to lead to the door, which was now nothing but a stone arch leading to nothing but debris, I felt the heat burning my skin. But it didn't matter. It was nothing compared to excruciating pain she must have felt. And to feel close to her for one last time, as if torturing myself would have lessened her own torment, I endured it for a while.

Slowly I rise from my knees and carefully store the muzzle - too large and peculiar in shape to be made for anything else than a human head - on one of the boards, pulling out the book next to it and part its pages to look at her picture once more; this time I make sure to fully conceal the precious keepsake to preserve it from further decay. And as I do, the soothing melody of the music box slows, further and further, and stops, rendering the room’s atmosphere to the former clotted silence.

Unaffected by any outside influences remains my own memory, unattached to any token that might not stand the test of time. It will always be there, treasured, for eternity. Long after the closet's content and the wood itself has turned to dust.

The old brass hinges creak again as I slowly push the wooden doors shut and seal those items, memories and stories - those and many more - inside, to be found again in the future, by myself or - who knows - by someone else.

~end of solo~

#tvd #the vampire diaries #The Vampire Diaries RP #damon salvatore #damon #stefan salvatore #stefan #katherine pierce #katherine #datherine #1864 #fanfic #solo #shortstory #misanthropesolo #misanthrope

[deadmisanthrope]

#MisanthropeSolo - Time moves in circles

I wake to a sunrise that promises a first glimpse on an early spring. The place I am staying at has a vast window facade facing south-east, giving a great view on the city below and allowing the light to flood the room. I've got some plans today that require blending in with the people down there. Some appointments. Some strings to pull that allow me to keep the comforts of my current life. It's funny how times changed.

Slipping out of bed to approach the window of this 47th floor suite, watching the fuss in the streets, a sudden thought strikes me out of the blue.

I think of her and wonder how long it's been since we walked seperate ways again. Years. Decades, perhaps.

I wonder where she is. What she's doing. If she forgot why we parted in the first place, like me. Maybe there was an argument that seemed too severe to solve back then. Caused by two stubborn individuals spending too much time together. Expectations. Disappointments. So eventually we needed some space.

But no matter how hard I try, I can't remember any grudge I might be holding. If anything, the memory of her brings a small smile to my face.

The transparent weather forecast on the window next to my simpering reflection predicts mild temperatures with a small chance of afternoon showers. But there is another promise in the air. It is the way the clouds seem to glow. How everything seems to be just a little brighter, just a little lighter. How life itself seems less of a sting today.

Who knows? Today might be the day. Maybe we will spot each other in the streets. Maybe it will start with a private message the device around my wrist will notify me of. Maybe she will suddenly appear. Out of nowhere. Like she did in the past. And none of us will know what to do or say. Maybe we won't see each other for another few days or weeks before one of us makes a second approach.

We'll be just like strangers again, until the walls fall once more.

It will take some time before I can admit that I missed her. And maybe she will say the exact same thing. And maybe something new, something beautiful is born from this honesty. And another circle begins. Maybe this time it will be forever. Maybe this time it will be right.

But...

Maybe we will part again. Just like before. And the world will rearrange and move on into something unpredictable. And we will change as well, evolve into people we never thought we could be. Until we meet again and another circle starts. But I know that one thing will never change. I love her now. And I know I will love her then.

Yes. Today might be that one fateful day that starts a new circle. And my reflection in the window smiles softly.

#datherine #future #damon #katherine #damon salvatore #katherine pierce #misanthropesolo #misanthrope #deadmisanthrope #solo #fanfic #tvd #the vampire diaries #the vampire diaires rp #tvdrp

[deadmisanthrope]

#MisanthropeSolo - One breath

I needed a night out. A long walk. Some fresh air to clear my mind. The last two days brought more chaos into my life than the entire last century. Something weird had happened over night. I no longer recognize the face in the mirror. Of all the things I've ever done in my long life, nothing ever caused a feeling like this. I feel... lost. And I needed to prove myself that I'm still me.

It didn't take long, before I found my first willing victim. Willing, more or less.

As usual and without even thinking twice I used the trick Katherine taught me lifetimes ago. I lay on the road, staring at the countless stars in the sky, waiting for the first car to come across. The poor idiot almost saw me too late, hit the breaks and directed his car into a tree. Seconds later, the door flung open and he instantly started yelling at me.

"What the hell man? What're you doing in the middle of the road?"

Perfect. Right what I need tonight.

I sit up and push myself off the ground, slowly stumble towards him.

"Are you drunk, dude?" the man asks, obviously disgusted by my appearance. Yes, it's late at night and I'm drunk. Write a letter and send it to someone who cares.

"Yep~" I respond. The amused timbre in my voice only seems to enrage my victim more. Good. Rage is good. Rage is delicious.

Pulling a pocket flask from my jacket, I continue. "She will be disappointed, I guess" The amusement fades and is replaced by a tone of disgust. I'm erratic. I don't trust myself anymore. The usual calmness I feel when I'm on the hunt is gone.

The guy takes a step back while I proceed to get closer. Fear. I can taste it in the air. Oozing from every pore. Sweet and bitter.

With increased speed I catch up on the other man, easily compelling him. "Stop. Stand still." And he does, but the fear in his eyes stays.

"Why do they always run?" I say more to myself, lifting the small bottle to my lips, taking a healthy swallow.

"Vampires feed on humans. That's a fact and no one can change that. Not you." I motion at him, the flask still in hand. "Not me. And certainly not her."

He starts to tremble with fear at the mention of vampires. Tear dwelling in his eyes. But I don't pay attention. Grabbing him by the collar of his jacket, I shake him a bit.

"It's in my nature. It's who I am." Staring into his eyes for a while, like I'm expecting an answer. But of course there is none. He is too busy keeping himself from peeing his pants. I let go of his jacket, brushing my hand over its collar to fix it, saying quietly "But of course a human wouldn't understand.

Why I love her, you ask? I've been wondering that myself, you know?"

Slowly I walk up and down in front of him, while he is still unable to move. Except for the fearful shaking.

"The truth is, she drives me crazy. And not always in a good way. It's like everything I do, everything I am suddenly isn't good enough. I mean, how can she even love /me/? She was so much better with my brother."

The man struggles for a steady voice, but fails when he speaks "Please let me go. I won't call the police or anything."

But I ignore him, turn back towards him, brows furrowed, acting like I didn't hear him.

"But when she's not with me, I feel even worse. Because... it's all pointless. My entire existence revolves around feeding. And when I'm bored or upset, I kill people."

Lowering my voice as I step closer, my face only inches away from his, and I grab his collar again.

"And right now, I'm /very/ upset. What will I do? Hm? Speak!"

I snap at him and he begins to stammer.

"I don't know man, please don't kill me..." is the only think I can hear before he trails off into gibberish.

"Didn't you hear what I just said? I said I kill people, when I'm upset. And right now I'm upset, because of /her/. So isn't this also partly /her/ fault?"

There's nothing more but whimpering coming from the man and I let go of him, turning around, staring aimlessly into the darkness.

"I can't be me, when I'm with her. Because of all the things I do that make me who I am. But when I'm with her..."

I shake my head and look back at him, now snuffling, my voice low to keep it steady, tears burning in my eyes.

"...I can't control myself. So what do you think what's best? Being with her and denying what I am because I love her, but repeatedly losing control? Or being without her, merely existing from day to day..."

For a moment I go silent and all I can hear is the man's accelerated heartbeat. I take a deep breath, exhaling heavily, my voice clear, steady and calm again when I address my victim once more.

"But that's not a decision I'll make tonight."

Silence. One last breath. The air is still and all I can hear is his heartbeat. One last breath. My mind is sharp, clear and cold as ice. Everything moves in slow motion.

One last breath. One last heartbeat. A wide, cold grin reveals pointy fangs. My victim doesn't get a chance to scream. His last breath on this world will be gone and forgotten before his body hits the ground only several steps away from where his car hit the tree.

Liz will cover my story. Everything looks like just another car accident. Everything is how it's supposed to be.

Silence. My eyes close for a moment and I take a deep breath, chill air filling my lungs.

Everything is how it's supposed to be.

I am who I'm supposed to be.

I am me.

#tvd #the vampire diaries #damon #damon salvatore #misanthropesolo #deadmisanthrope #misanthrope #OneShot

[deadmisanthrope]

#MisanthropeSolo - My Hunger

I'm tired of her before it's even started. I should be excited, thrilled; the way her body arches when I run my fingertips over her soft skin. But I'm hardly paying attention to the lithe naked frame stretching out in my bed, moaning my name ever so softly. She's just another sorority girl. I won't even remember her name. Nor will she remember mine, or anything about our nonrecurring encounter. She's a means to an end, for a hunger that can't be sated; hasn't been sated for so long, that I doubt it ever will. It became a constant unrest of mind, always leaving me searching, craving for the next kick, like a drug addict. But the longer I live, the harder it is to believe that this drug exists. I stopped searching for it a while ago. This girl? Just a habit. It's what I do, what I'm good at. And it's at  my whim whether she gets to live another day in this cold world or not.

Her clenching flesh drawing me in and her pleas for more leave me unaffected. Not even her screams and whimpers as sharp fangs tear her throat open at the top of my ecstasis can change that. And when the rush subsides, the silence returns. I don't tolerate the liveless body spread out next to me for too long. Carelessly I shove her off the sheet; her body drops to the floor with a thud. It wasn't real. It never is. No matter what those girls believe, when that dark and handsome stranger approaches them. No matter the words they hear; and I know quite a few. It's all lies. I know what  they want to hear, but in return they give me nothing. They don't fill they void, soothe the pain or silence the demons that taunt me every day, every night, for the rest of eternity.

A thought lights up the numbing darkness. A faint source in the distance. And since my mind is blissfully blank moments after the climax, I entertain this delusion and let my thoughts roam. They bring me back to that day in Atlanta. Usually a familiar place, nothing special about it. But this day was indeed special. She was there. And it gave this place a whole new meaning. What started out as some sort of revenge - I admit that much - turned into a pleasant memory I'll cherish for quite some time. Maybe forever. Despite my initial motive and the outcome of said day, I enjoyed it. I enjoyed myself. And I enjoyed her company. I didn't compel her, because I wanted to push her limits. She needed to let go of a few things and I know my brother would have never been able to cause that change of mind. I had no idea what this might turn into...

While I think of it, alone in my quiet room, not even another heartbeat next to mine, the voices hush for a moment. The void is no longer empty and all-consuming. The hunger... waits, listens, changes its direction. There is a hint of... a feeble light shining in the dark. Something. And it banishes the shadows, exposing a small part of what is not meant to be exposed. And what I see, feel, remember, it hurts. But for nothing in the world I want this glimmer of light to be gone. The longer I think of it, the further I reach inside to get a hold on it, trying to cling to it and draw it up to the surface, the more it hurts.

I shake my head no abstractedly. An unintended movement, causing the pillow beneath my head to rustle quietly. And in a flash the thought is gone. But not quite. It is still lingering in the back. Just the pain... is gone. Drawing a deep breath to focus back on what's real, I begin to wonder what this moment of weakness was about. She's my brother's girl, but that's not even the point. My intentions are clear and as soon as I'd get into that tomb I'd be gone. Screw my brother and his little human girlfriend. Even though, for a human she is quite alright. I could indeed find a few of Katherine's character traits in her. And even more. Maybe she isn't the worst company in the world. Maybe her compassion is indeed sincere and not just a sham to get information. Her joy in Atlanta seemed sincere to me. Fatigue is weighing down on me and my eyes fall shut. Maybe I start to understand this feeling. What we had in Atlanta was real. She wasn't compelled to enjoy herself and my company. All of it she did willingly. And for the first time this insatiable hunger abated. I felt almost at ease. Content. Something all the pleasurable, but compelled company never did. For one day I didn't feel alone.

~end of solo~

#tvd #the vampire diaries #damon salvatore #fanfic #solo #deadmisanthrope #misanthropesolo #OneShot

[deadmisanthrope]

#MisanthropeSolo - If a tree falls...

...ɪɴ ᴀ ꜰᴏʀᴇꜱᴛ ᴀɴᴅ ɴᴏ ᴏɴᴇ ɪꜱ ᴀʀᴏᴜɴᴅ ᴛᴏ ʜᴇᴀʀ ɪᴛ, ᴅᴏᴇꜱ ɪᴛ ᴍᴀᴋᴇ ᴀ ꜱᴏᴜɴᴅ?

As much as I wanted to kill the woman who ruined my life - mine and Stefan's - the moment Jeremy barged in to stop us, exclaiming his sister's name and that she'll die along with her Doppelgänger, the urge died. I failed. I hesitated. I promised I wouldn't at any cost, but I did. But so did Stefan. He wouldn't want to hurt Elena either. That's no news at all, though, right? Even though they were on another one of their offs with their constant on-and-off relationship, my brother was still in love with this girl. Of course he wouldn't do anything to harm her, even if it means to spare Katherine. But why did I? Why did I care? A question I've been asking myself countless times before. And there will be more.

The night passed and the bitch got dealt with. I must admit it felt good to lock her up in the place she was supposed to be all along. And I didn't fall for her pleas and empty phrases. But nonetheless, I needed a stiff drink after that night. I've spent it analyzing the recent events and my own motives. Ever since that kiss on the porch, ever since I've lost my temper and killed Jeremy, she's been nothing but cold towards me. But I wouldn't accept that our friendship was gone forever. At this point I'd gladly have her around me to tell me how my ways are... questionable. At this point I'd take every shocked gasp from her throat, every whispered contradiction from her lips and every judging look from her eyes, just to have back whatever I ruined.

The next day should be even worse. Stefan called from school, telling me that Elena's been missing since the masquerade ball. Katherine's words were still ringing in my ears, and I blamed myself for what happened. And Stefan gladly did the same. Yes, maybe I could have done something to prevent it. Something. Anything. But I'd surely do anything to fix it.

With a little help of the town witch and Elena's mostly useless brother we located the spot where she's been brought. Anything was better than asking Katherine for help. On our way there Stefan couldn't help but question my motives. Which never fails to amuse me, since it was him who overstepped boundaries by falling in love with his brother's girl first. But unlike him, I would never proceed. I promised myself that I would leave this decision to her alone. But Stefan's nagging inquiries reminded me of my place in this. Reminded me of my failure.

Of course Stefan rode in like the white knight he is. But it was me who impaled the bad guy and put all this to an end. It was me. And after this guy was dealt with, I was about to go after the woman... when I heard her voice from upstairs. I froze in motion; the joy of seeing her alive and well was overwhelming. But what was even more overwhelming was the expression on her face. She was relieved, happy. Her face seemed to say "He saved me." And for the short moment, when she descended the stairs, I was sure she'd forgive me. She'd fall into my arms and I could again tell her how sorry I was. And she'd forgive me and everything would go back to normal. The gasps, the whispers, the looks. But also the laughs and smiles. The joking and teasing. A second later I felt right like that guy pinned to the door behind me. It weren't my arms she fell into. It wasn't me who picked her up in a tight embrace, happy beyond words that she's safe. Of course it wasn't me. It would never be me.

Another night with friend bourbon and me would follow. But my brother had other plans. Apparently he got a taste over this road trip bonding thing and chose this night to catch up, trying to settle our quarrels. He had /the nerve/ to apopgize for turning me. He had the nerve to play this all through, being the good brother when all I wanted to do was rip his throat out for no apparent reason. But there was a reason, wasn't it? And this reason was safe and sound at home, with her family where she belongs. And as hard as it was to admit, Stefan was right. If we were fighting over Elena, we wouldn't be able to keep her safe.

The drive to her house was all in a blur. I didn't even know what to say, didn't even know why I decided to see her. But I had to. After all this I just had to see her. Just once. I wondered if I should try to make amends once more. But would she listen? I've prepared a dozen speeches in my head, only to discard them all. Because nothing wasn't even remotely suitable. Maybe I should just leave her necklace on her desk and disappear again. Yes, that would be the right thing to do. But when did I ever do the right thing? I wanted to storm into her house and hug and kiss her. I wanted throw at her face what I've been doing to safe her because I was worried sick. I wanted to tell her that I promised to keep her safe, but that I can only do that if she lets me back in. A part of me wanted her to see me for who I am, and more important, see Stefan for who he really is. But Saint Stefan is always the Golden Boy, isn't he? All thoughts put to waste. Because... if we're fighting over her...

I sat in her room, trying to calm my troubled mind while I listened to the running water coming from the bathroom next door. She was probably changing for sleep. A few minutes more to find the right words to say. To make the right choice, or...

"Cute PJs." is how I draw her attention as she walks in. What a lame opening. But that's just lame old me, isn't it? Always pulling a joke at the most inappropriate timing. She doesn't seem fully appalled, because she doesn't kick me out yet. I'd take that second chance and use it wisely. I slowly approach and produce her necklace. And there's that expression of gratitude and relief on her face again. A weaker version of it, but this time it's all mine. I can#t do this. I can't go on like this. And before I know what I'm doing, I pull my hand back, and the necklace with it.

"I just have to say something." I start to explain hesitantly, still not sure if what I'm doing is right. But if it's so wrong, why does every fiber of my body want this?

"What I'm about to say is probably the most selfish thing I've ever said in my life." I know it's wrong. But it feels right. Right in this moment. And if I don't get it out now, there will never come another chance like this again.

"I just have to say it once. You just need to hear it." And as I close the gap between us and look into her eyes, I see a hint of fear. It's when I know I made the wrong choice. But there's no turning back now. And I dive deep into those eyes, knowing it will probably the last time. To tell her all the things she won't remember. Not because she needs to know them. But because I need to say them.

"I love you, Elena."

I would have waited for a reaction. Another shocked gasp from her throat, another whispered contradiction from her lips, another judging look from her eyes. But she's already gone, under my compulsion, while I pour my heart out to her. "And it's because I love you that... I can't be selfish with you. And why you can't know this. I don't deserve you. But my brother does." I lean in to bring my lips to her forehead, inhaling the scent of her hair as I let the kiss linger for a while, closing my eyes to engrave this memory deep into my mind to hopefully last forever. When I pull back, I gently cup her face. A face that is now slightly clouded with confusion that is trying to fight its way past the compulsion and to the surface. But I can't let that happen. It would change everything forever and would make it impossible for me to protect her. I can't risk another fight between Stefan and me.

"God, I wish you didn't have to forget this. But you do."

One last second spent looking into her eyes, brushing my thumb along the soft skin of her cheek and then... I'm gone. She won't remember anything. Ignorance is a bliss indeed. Stefan would never find out as well. I wish I could say my mind is at ease after my confession. But I'm far from salvation. Together Stefan and I would take care of the current threat. And Elena would be safe again. Eventually Stefan and Elena would find their way back to each other. And she would find her way back to partly hating, but mostly ignoring my existence. I should feel accomplished for doing the right thing. But I don't. I didn't do it for my brother. I did it for her. To keep her safe. At any cost.

~ end of solo ~

#tvd #the vampire diaries #fanfic #damon salvatore #elena gilbert #damon #elena #delena #misanthrope #misanthropesolo #OneShot

[deadmisanthrope]

#MisanthropeSolo - Forever (Mini-Solo)

Forever. People use it to describe a long time period. Usually exaggerated, like the time you spent to wait for something you're anticipating. Forever can be the time between two heartbeats, before she says yes. Forever can be the time you wait until she comes back home. But my forever isn't measurable. My forever goes on and on. Forever. My forever is on hold whenever she's around. And my forever will start ticking again, sooner or later. When her forever is over.

She says she'll stay with me forever, like she knew how it feels, what it means. Forever. But all I can think of is how I will spent forever without her by my side. Then I always tell myself, we still have time. We still have plenty of years to spend. Decades even. And I'll always be with her. I'll watch her living her life, achieving her goals and grow old. I'll watch her going through time, while I'm stuck in the moment.

I will be with her. And she will be with me. Always. But not forever.

#tvd #the vampire diaries #delena #misanthropesolo #deadmisanthrope #OneShot

[deadmisanthrope]

#MisanthropeSolo - Time is relative

"That's how life works, Damon. You are born, you live, you die. But it's up to you how you choose to live your life to make it worth it and not wasted."

And just like that she disappears in the bathroom, closing the door behind her while I remain standing in the middle of her room. What began as a casual visit when I brought her coffee turned into another lesson from her. She does that unintentionally, I'm sure. And I hate how a mere sentence from this girl leaves me with uncertainty about what used to be an adamant truth for decades. I never understood how she clings to life like this. Especially with a new threat knocking at her door every week. Vampires, werewolves, hybrids. (Oh my.) She barely survived when Klaus tried to sacrifice her. Turning her into a vampire would have been the best way to keep her from getting killed. But she acted like I signed her death sentence myself when all I did was trying to save her. Even if that would mean she'd hate me forever.

My eyes drop to my hands as I rub my palms together, exhaling a light breath. What is it about being human that she is willing to die for it? It's the ultimate antithesis. Why does she accept death willingly, rather than sticking around for her loved ones? But as a vampire. I look around in her room, like the answer to that question would be hidden somewhere in this assemblage of normalcy.

Her bed which she had left only moments ago is still unmade, and I'd probably still feel the remnant warmth of her body if I'd place my hand on the mattress. Golden rays of sunlight fall through the windows and draw rectangular patterns on the bed and on the wooden floor, causing the slowly moving dust in the air to glisten like snowflakes. Life itself is breathing in this room, it seems. The trophies on the shelf to my left, a testimony of her career as a cheerleader, pictures of friends and her school books on the desk to my right. It all tells the story of a life that's still evolving, changing, blooming. At any moment everything can change in the blink of an eye. And doesn't true freedom lie in the unpredictability of the next moment? My steps in the silence echo like gunshots as I walk over to her desk and pick up a notebook, thumbing throught the pages filled with her neat handwriting. I don't bother to read any of it, but I'm sure it's of importance to her. Another stepstone on the way to a bright future.

But there is also death. Impermanence. When I drop the notebook onto a pile of books and turn my face to look around further, I spot a picture stuck to the mirror above her dresser. I've seen this pictures several times before, but paid no attention to them. But now I take the time, and a closer look. Again the noise of my own steps disturb the peace in this still life that is her room when I approach the mirror and pluck the photograph from the mirror's frame. It shows her with her parents. She looks a lot younger, but this is probably because she's smiling. Even her eyes smile. And I'm not sure if I've ever seen her like this. Genuinely happy and carefree. A picture taken long before death stepped into her life. But yet she keeps it here, to see it every day and be remembered of her loss. Why? Because she learned to accept death as a part of her life. She knows that her life can end at any time. Which is why she makes the best of every single day. Which is why she wants to achieve her goals. And cherishes every single day. Even the bad ones.

When I put the picture back in its place, my gaze falls onto my own reflection. A face that hasn't changed in a century and a half. Neither time nor weather or experiences left any mark on it. Like nothing of it ever happened. And there is no one left to tell about it, except me. No one to share these memories with. Just like they were all just a dream, arisen from my own imagination. When time is of no matter, nothing else is. Nothing I did or do is of importance. My entire existence is of no meaning for anyone else, but me.

The lines a deep frown draws on my forehead while I examine my mirror image will be gone as soon as my expression changes and my face will shift back to the one of the 25 years old guy I've been for the last 150 years. When life has no expiration date, it forfeits its value. Is this why I try to convince her that a life as a vampire is so much better than hers? To convince myself? Or am I really that selfish that I want her to turn and be with me to give my own experience a meaning by sharing the memories with her that are yet to come? Cold, blue eyes stare silently back at me and give me all the confirmation I need. The room feels cold and dead now without her presence, like frozen in time, and I swallow dryly while my own reflection stares back at me grimly.

It's like all colors flood back into the room when the door that leads to the bathroom opens and she returns. She. The incarnate life. And her light dispels the darkness that filled my head.

"Okay. I'm ready." she says airily, wearing a smile which is almost as genuine and careless as the one on the picture. Almost. Because eventually and inevitably time heals all wounds. But when time is of no relevance, it does not exist. And this is why its curing is lost to me. I give a smile in return. Almost just as genuine. Almost. And I follow her out of the room and down the stairs to spend the day with her. Not to make my brother's eternity a little more miserable. But to make my own a little less pointless. She is my metronome. My object of movement, a bypassing train while I remain stationary, like Einstein would put it. Time has a measure, a value again. With her around, time and all the things that make time important return to my life. I cherish the time we share. I feel time moving slower when she is gone. Time heals old wounds. And I count the hours until we meet again. She brought time back into my life. I know that time with her will always be limited. And I don't want to waste a single moment.

~end of solo~

#tvd #the vampire diaries #damon salvatore #elena gilbert #damon #elena #delena #solo #misanthropesolo #fanfic #OneShot

[deadmisanthrope]

Little Infinity - Caroline’s and Stefan’s wedding

|| When @OfMonterey and @APlusNeurotic asked me to officiate their wedding, I felt deeply honored. This is what the three of us wrote during the wedding ceremony.||

Damon: [I step in front of the bride and groom, clear my throat and look at the people that have arrived when I begin.]

We are gathered here today to witness the joining of these two epic love birds in official matrimony.

[Making a brief pause and glancing at Stefan and Caroline for just a moment.]

Eternity is a time span none of us can fully fathom, no matter how long we've been wandering on this world. And it is all the more amazing if two people find each other and know their bond of love is strong enough to last just as long.

[I turn to Stefan.]

Brother, I've been waiting a ridiculous amount of years to stand right here with you and the woman you love. [And with a smirk I add.] You better don't screw up.

[Turning to Caroline now, giving a smile.]

Caroline... your mother would be very proud today. You've grown up to this amazing woman, taking the next step in life. We all wish she could be here today, but I'm sure, Liz is watching right now with a big smile on her face. [I look up and murmur in melancholy.] And judging me.

[Looking back to the two in front of me, I continue.] You'll start off the day just two people in love and end it as husband and wife. Live happy forever as lovers, friends and family. Because without family, eternity is just an awfully lot of time to go through.

[Again I pause and first turn to my brother.]

Stefan Salvatore, do you take this lovely woman to be your lawfully wedded wife, to have and to hold in health and obsessional neuroses, in good times and woe, for richer or poorer, keeping yourself solely unto her for as long as you both shall live? If so, answer loud and clear "I do".

Stefan: Needless to say, Stefan's a little choked up. He's lived on this earth for 171 years, and never before has he been this happy about. . . anything, really. As soon as his worn green eyes set on his beautiful bride, though. . . It's like he's absolutely crippled with joy. His eyes even get a little watery, and his hand trembles slightly.

The words of his brother are just as beautiful as Caroline. He knew this was something he could depend on his brother to do without regrets. The words make him smile brighter than he ever has before, and though he's listening to Damon, his eyes never move from the love of his life. A small laughter leaves him when jokes are made, his heart aches a little at the mention of the sheriff, but it basically all freezes at the question, to which he answers with a confident, "I do."

Damon: [I then turn to Caroline.]

Caroline Forbes, do you take this man to be your lawfully wedded husband, to have and to hold in health and... ripperism, good times and woe, for richer or poorer, keeping yourself solely unto him for as long as you both shall live? If so, answer "I do".

Caroline: Her eyes shine with emotion still, between the mention of her mother and the expression on Stefan's face. Caroline had been dreaming about this very moment for so long and here she was, about to say the words that she fought so hard for, and for so long. Her eyes drift to @DeadMisanthrope, she smiles and nods as she meets @OfMonterey's gaze once more. "I do."

Damon: [My gaze roams over the crowd of people.]

If there be anyone present mistakenly who has a reason why these two may not be legally wed, let them speak so I can rip their heart out so they forever hold their peace.

[I wait for a moment, but not too long before I proceed.]

I believe, the bride and groom have prepared their wedding vows and may bring them forward now.

Stefan: For a moment there, Stefan does nothing at all, too in awe of Caroline's beauty and too ecstatic that she said 'I do' to realize that it's his turn to speak yet again. After a few moments, a surprised expression is shown on him, and he chuckles nervously.

"Vows. Right. My turn. Sorry."

A small blush even fills his cheeks, something that's become rather rare for Stefan. Squeezing @APlusNeurotic's hands, he licks his lips and starts.

"Caroline, the first time I talked to you, I lied to you. My first words to you were an absolute lie, and I think about that. . . A lot. I told you we were never going to happen, but here we are. At the alter. About to start our forever together. You not only became my friend, but you've become so much more. My conscience. My sounding board. My reason to keep up and keep trying. And now. . . You're going to be my wife. You. . . You told me once. . . during our dance at prom. . . that I would fall madly in love without even realizing it. And that's what happened. Day by day, bit by bit. . ."

His voice starts to lower to a quiet tone, happy tears shining in his eyes.

"Year by year. With you."

Caroline: For a moment, she's lost in her own head, hung on the words as he speaks them and like Stefan, misses the sign that it's her turn. Her hands squeeze his tighter and she takes a deep breath in, meeting her misty eyes with his. "This isn't a June wedding but... I can forgive you for that one." She laughs to chase the impending tears away. "Stefan, you have no idea how much I love you and have loved you. I've always known that it would somehow be you. Deep down, I just knew and you've become someone in my life that I refuse to be without." She pauses and looks down but just for a second. "When I lost my mom...I thought I'd lost everything. My family, the one person who'd love me unconditionally but...I didn't. I have everything I need in you. We're a family...and I will love you forever."

Damon: Tuxedo man. The rings, please. [I say towards @SuaveHonor with a weary smile, knowing we'd have a conversation about respect. And while he steps closer to hand them to Caroline and Stefan, I explain.]

These rings are a full and eternal circle. A symbol for your promise of everlasting love, loyalty and commitment.

Elijah: A frown flickered upon his face for a moment before he let out a chuckle, carefully holding out the rings as he made his way towards the couple, stopping as he waited patiently for them to take the rings.

He and Damon would talk later.

Stefan: Stefan chuckles lightly and grins at Elijah before looking down at the ring in his hand, eyes glancing up to @APlusNeurotic.

He's shaking nervously.

"With this ring. . . I thee wed."

Did he say that right? Everything's all blurry. Even so, he prepares to put the ring on her.

Caroline: Caroline watches the ring slide onto her finger with a wistful expression on her face. Taking Stefan's ring, then, mouthing a thank you to Elijah as she slips the silver band on her groom's trembling hand. "With this ring, I thee wed."

Damon: [After they exchanged the rings, I say.]

By the authority recently vested in me by the Commonwealth of Virginia I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss the bride now, little brother.

#tvd #The Vampire Diaries RP #the vampire diaries #steroline #wedding #misanthrope #misanthropesolo

[deadmisanthrope]

#MisanthropeSolo - Revamped

At first, it was silent. Like the world held its breath while everything around moved in slow motion. Like you watch a car accident slowly unfolding. And even though you are fully aware, all you can do is stand rooted to the ground and watch the inevitable happening. You hear, but you don’t realize. Your mind refuses to process.

Until it eventually sinks in. And the impact is loud.

And loud it became. Like all thoughts were screaming in my head at once. The whys and the hows. The whats and the ifs. Denying reality. I was angry with the universe and myself. A blind rage blazed inside of me, consuming every clear thought. And when I couldn’t find anyone else to blame, I blamed myself for what happened. Wasn’t it always my fault in the end?

I blamed myself for being unable to change. Change for the better. Change for /her/. I changed before, so what would it matter? I changed, gradually, to the person I was now. I wasn’t happy with all of those changes; some changes were harder than others, but it brought me closer to what I wanted. Really wanted. More than anything else. Closer to her. Closer to the person she would want to be with. And isn’t there always a price to pay? I was ready to pay every price. So I thought…

But …maybe the price was too high. Maybe I already changed too many times. Who was I changing to? What had I become? I had lost myself in the process.

It all felt too familiar. All the efforts I made were for nothing. It would never be me, no matter how hard I’d try. No one would “risk” to choose me. Stefan called me a liability once. And I guess he was right.

Calm. Blissful tranquility. A deep breath, eyes closed and focusing on the quiet center inside of you. That’s all it takes to shut it all out. I open my eyes and feel crystal clear now. Am I happy? I don’t need happy. I regained my peace of mind. Like a vast field of fresh fallen snow at dawn, untouched, no sound but a white noise partly swallowed by the icy blanket. The second when every single emotion leaves your system feels amazing. A freedom beyond description.

I am crystal clear. I am myself again. I am a vampire. And I’m hungry.

#tvd #the vampire diaries #damon #damon salvatore #solo #short story #MisanthropeSolo #Delena #OneShot

[deadmisanthrope]

#MisanthropeSolo - Hurt

Never would I admit that despite the things she said and despite the time she didn’t come back, I still love her. ʏᴏᴜ ᴄᴏᴜʟᴅ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ɪᴛ ᴀʟʟ. Never would I tell her what I’ve been through. How I tried to move on. How I tried to forget her. What I’ve done to gain information about how to open the tomb. There was nothing I wouldn’t have done. ᴍʏ ᴇᴍᴘɪʀᴇ ᴏғ ᴅɪʀᴛ. She tossed it aside like I never meant anything to her. She rubbed into my face how she never cared to come back. ɪ ᴡɪʟʟ ʟᴇᴛ ʏᴏᴜ ᴅᴏᴡɴ. She won’t get another chance to hurt me. I will hate her with every fiber of my body. I will make her even more miserable than she made me. I will make her regret getting on my bad side. I will show her what she’s missing. ɪ ᴡɪʟʟ ᴍᴀᴋᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ʜᴜʀᴛ. But before anything else, I will hide the incuable part of me that will always love her.

#tvd #the vampire diaries #damon salvatore #katherine pierce #datherine #solo #fanfic #short story #deadmisanthrope #misanthropesolo #OneShot

[deadmisanthrope]

#MisanthropeSolo Series "The long Road Home"

#Datherine

Part I (Introduction)

https://deadmisanthrope.tumblr.com/post/140396942135/solo-the-long-road-home-part-i-introduction

Part II (Denial)

https://deadmisanthrope.tumblr.com/post/142862576270/solo-the-long-road-home-part-ii-denial

Part III (Anger)

https://deadmisanthrope.tumblr.com/post/142901867970/solo-the-long-road-home-part-iii-anger

Part IV (Bargaining)

https://deadmisanthrope.tumblr.com/post/143171235465/solo-the-long-road-home-part-iv-bargaining

Part V (Depression)

https://deadmisanthrope.tumblr.com/post/143628916750/solo-the-long-road-home-part-v-depression

Part VI (Acceptance)

https://deadmisanthrope.tumblr.com/post/144938216365/solo-the-long-road-home-part-vi-acceptance

Purgatory / Hotel California (The long Road Home part VII)

https://deadmisanthrope.tumblr.com/post/149940585985/misanthropesolo-purgatoryhotel-california-the

The Arrival (The Long Road Home Part VIII)

https://deadmisanthrope.tumblr.com/post/178814734895/misanthropesolo-the-arrival-a-long-road-home

Limbo (The Long Road Home Part IX)

https://deadmisanthrope.tumblr.com/post/178816785480/misanthropesolo-limbo-the-long-road-home-part

#tvd #the vampire diaries #damon #damon salvatore #katherine #katherine pierce #datherine #DeadMisanthrope #MisanthropeSolo #short story #fanfic

[deadmisanthrope]

#MisanthropeSolo - About Women and Growing Up

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AUSClzutsRY 

Cat Stevens - Father & Son (instrumental)

I think every man would agree that the first woman in his life is his mother. It’s an unconditional love. But it’s also the most painful.

I started early to discover that there are other women. And that one day I would look at them differently. It was the way father sometimes used to speak of them that gave me the idea, there must be more than the obvious differences between boys and girls. Men and women. I was still very young; Stefan was still a baby; and the only comment I earned from Giuseppe regarding men and women, babies and sex was that I’d know it when it was time to have my own family. Mother always looked sad and averted her eyes and I remember I started to think that it was something bad. And if it made mother sad, I didn’t want to do it. I wanted to stay with my mother. The silly thoughts of a seven years old boy.

I grew older and noticed, the girls did, too. They developed a certain interest in me. And I appreciated that. Noticing a certain attraction myself I started to enjoy their company. More than I enjoyed spending time with the boys at my age. And since it seemed to make father proud - I still didn’t understand why - I didn’t even mind the other boys mocking me about it. They asked me if I would start to wear dresses soon. I was ten, and I already knew it wasn’t about that.

Two more years passed and I grew to the girl’s favorite. They flocked together and started to giggle and whisper in my presence. Some of them already asked me to dance with them once they are old enough to be allowed to. Of course I had my favorites as well. But I’d never tell them. One of them was Alice. She stuck out with her red hair and her alabaster skin. That father would never accept her, since her family wasn’t wealthy, I didn’t understand at that point. I simply enjoyed being young. The world lay at my feet, and I wanted it all.

Short termed was my emotional high, when a boy of my age - Benjamin, the youngest of brothers - raised a claim regarding Alice as well. I was too young to understand how someone can /claim/ another human being. Unlike Benjamin I had no older brothers who could tell me the things adults wouldn’t want to talk about. So I suggested that he should “claim” someone else, because I wouldn’t let her down.

By the end of the day I found myself behind a barn outside town. Thrown into a haystack after Benjamin and one of his older brothers had grown tired of beating the crap out of me. The wounds on my face had stopped bleeding and the blood on my shirt had dried on my way home. Mother was in shock. Father laughed. It was a loud, terrifying sound. And when he stepped closer, I expected him to continue Benjamin’s work. But he patted my shoulder. It hurt, but I smiled, which hurt even more.

“That’s my boy.” he said.

I’ve never felt so happy before, and I actually felt like crying. Not because of the pain. Father never said this before and I didn’t know what I did to earn his approval, but I surely didn’t question it. He turned to mother, speaking about having a drink with me, having a talk, finding out who she is and talk to her parents. Apparently he knew more than I thought. But it was a small town after all. And to me father had always been some sort of omniscient. At least at the age of twelve.

I didn’t get a drink that night. Probably because mother disagreed. It didn’t happen often that she vetoed father. But father and I had said talk. Not that night, but years later. Suddenly he was no longer proud. Suddenly he no longer approved how well I got along with the girls in town. He spoke about responsibilities and obligations. I didn’t care. Everyone in town seemed to like me. Everyone except him. Some of the men and women started to address me as “Young Mr. Salvatore” which was more acceptance than I got from my own father. It was only days since the last time he beat me, because he thought I took his bourbon. He didn’t remember that it was him who drank the whole bottle the night before. And how could he? He was too drunk to even stand. During our conversation - which wasn’t exactly a conversation since he spoke mostly while I only listened - he talked about growing up and that he wanted to send me to the army once I’m old enough. “The army turns boys into men.” he said and that they hopefully could teach me some manners. …and that it was because of me that mother felt so sick recently. Which cut deep. I was 15 and understood a lot more, but I still wondered if it was because of me that mother was pale and weak sometimes. She tried to hide it, but of course I knew her better. But how sick she really was, I didn’t know back then.

Not only to please father, but mostly for mother I stayed away from the girls for a while to fulfill the obligations father gave me. But mother didn’t seem to recover. One day when father had sent me to Dr. Gilbert to pick up mother’s medicine I noticed the look of pity on his face. He asked me about my mother and we spoke. Eventually I asked him about the medicine and he hesitated but stated, that it was only to ease the pain and the cough. That I understood. I was probably pale when I returned home since Stefan asked me if I wasn’t feeling well. I didn’t tell him. I just found out that mother would die. That nothing in this world lasts forever. And girls were the last thing on my mind.

The inevitable happened. And of course everyone expected me to write the eulogy for her. I wanted to ask her for help, like I would have always done, and no matter what, she would have given me sound advice. But in her last days I didn’t want to burdern her with my grief. The rare occasions I managed to sneak into her room to spend time with her, I rather spoke to her about positive things only. Mostly about Stefan, because no matter how hard I tried to be strong for her, I could not think of ever being happy again without her.

The day of the funeral came closer and closer, and everyone kept talking about the eulogy and that it surely would be beautiful. And still I had not written a single word. The morning before the funeral I still had nothing. “It’s an important speech.” Stefan reminded me, and disappointing him was even worse than disappointing mother or anyone else. So after we got dressed, I left the house under the pretext that I would pick up mother’s favorite flowers and meet father and Stefan later. I did not. I fact I went to the local bar, which was rather empty this early. I needed a quiet and dark place to write. A place that didn’t scream “funeral” at me. I brought a few sheets of paper, ink and a fountain pen with me, but the ink dried on the nib before I could use it.

“You’re the older Salvatore brother, right?” suddenly a voice spoke next to me while a hand set down a sweating tumbler with bourbon on the table. I looked at her and recognized her as one of the girls that sometimes worked here. Alice’s younger sister Hellen. Not very decent for a girl, but everyone knew about the reputation of the owner’s daughters. The bar’s owner only had two daughters, and at least one of them would sooner or later take over business anyway. So he never promised them a great future. Which was sad actually.

“Yes.” I simply said, now eying the drink in front of me, the familiar smell of alcohol burning in my nose.

“Shouldn’t you be at the funeral, then?” Her tone was light, innocent, and I was sure she didn’t mean any ill. When I didn’t answer, but only tapped the back of the pen on the blank paper, she inched closer and pointed at the glass in front of me. “Maybe a drink might help.” Now she sounded like she was daring me. Like I wouldn’t drink it. Like I couldn’t take a drink that strong. I was dealing with my mother’s death and suddenly anything that would numb the pain sounded like a good idea. Surely writing would be much easier with a little …detachment.

Hellen gladly served me another drink. And another. And another. But I only felt worse. I started rambling about my mother’s death soon, and Hellen patiently listened. All of these thoughts suddenly just blurted out of me. Most of them didn’t make any sense to anyone except me, and maybe mother. She always seemed to understand what was going on on my mind. Even when I denied it. I think I kept talking for at least an hour; talking and drinking; spoke about the things she taught me and how I looked up to her. I said so many thing and nothing of it seemed to be good enough to write it down in the eulogy.

“There’s more in the storeroom. I took father’s key.” she lilted the last words and slowly retrieved a key from her cleavage, which both caught my attention. She wasn’t much younger than Alice - maybe two years - but their resemblance was remarkable. She took a few hesitant steps backwards, holding up the key, wiggling it like a bait. And I was hooked. I slid off my chair, managed to steady my staggering legs and followed her as she lured me into the back, suddenly remembering my father’s words of elucidation. And to my own surprise he turned out to be right. I knew.

It wasn’t amazing. It wasn’t mind blowing. It wasn’t even worth remembering. I was drunk and she was looking for something to gloat about amongst her friends. And even worse: It was the day of my mother’s funeral. I disappointed not only her by screwing this loose girl in the back of a bar; I also let down Stefan and everyone else at the funeral. And neither for the first, nor for the last time I wished that it was me in that coffin instead of her. I felt drunk and awfully sober at the same time, didn’t even bother to say anything before my departure. I just grabbed a bottle from the rack and let my still shaking legs carry me to the graveyard.

The funeral was over and I wandered towards the fresh grave underneath the pines. Stefan was still standing there, looking down to the dark soil piled up. And at first he didn’t even lift his head when I stopped right in front of it. I could see he had kept his promise. He didn’t cry at the funeral. But when he eventually looked at me and blamed me for not being around and missing my speech, his eyes filled with tears that soon ran down his face.

Today I think that this day marked a turning point in our lives. We both left the common path and picked each our own. I had disappointed him. And not for the last time. That day he chose his own way, not necessarily leading away from me, but keeping a short distance. Like two trails going into the same direction. For now. Me on the other hand, I had made my bed. My path would always lead to selfish decisions, destruction and disappointment. While Stefan would be just on the other side, close enough to watch me fail and let me know what a disgrace I am.

Hellen might have been the first. But now that the door was opened, and mistakes were made, the second step wasn’t that hard anymore. And now that mother was gone, I actually had the time to tend to the girls again. And I was thankful for every single distraction I could get.

They say the first time is special and changes your life forever. It did. But not in a way I thought it would. Just like growing up doesn’t mean to achieve more rights. It only means that everything you do entails consequences. Which was another reason why I decided not to grow up for a while longer and have fun instead. Fun with the girls. Fun with the booze. Fun with my brother. Despite father’s plans. I’d follow my own mind.

~ end of solo ~

#tvd #the vampire diaries #damon #damon salvatore #stefan #stefan salvatore #giuseppe salvatore #lily #lily salvatore #books #1858 #funeral #eulogy #deadmisanthrope #misanthropesolo #OneShot

[deadmisanthrope]

#MisanthropeSolo - An eye for an eye

I couldn't believe the striking resemblance when I first met her. Unable to move or say anything else, but her name — not /her/ name, as I was just about to learn — I just stared blankly. Stared until I noticed the girl's confusion and embarrassment. I apologized, asked her name, and made her forget we met. I had some business in town and wouldn't waste my time with a little human girl, no matter how she looks.

It took a while before I bothered to check on the Boarding House. I knew Zach still lived there. But he wasn't alone. My brother was back in town. But I surely didn't need /him/ to know that I was here as well. He would only foil my plans. But I got a little curious. Why was he here exactly? I knew he returned every once in a while, visiting Zach, and mother's grave, but this time, he stayed longer than usual. So I did a little stalking. I stalked the stalker, so to speak. And when I found out who my brother was stalking... I was amused at first. He was looking for a copy, while I tried to get back the original. Sure. Why not?

But it left a bitter aftertaste. He came here, to finally get what he wanted. He found this girl that looked exactly like her. Why else would he want to be with her?

A lot happened in the past 145 years. We reached out, but failed to make up. It seemed like we just can't get along. But the idea of making his life an eternity of misery — just like I promised — was long gone. Was. Until this day. The day I saw him back at High School, acting like a human school boy once again, only to pine over this ... human copy.

I won't let this happen. He took mine, I'll take his. There is no way I'd let him start over with someone who looks exactly like her.

~end of solo ~

#tvd #the vampire diaries #damon #damon salvatore #elena #elena gilbert #stefan #stefan salvatore #katherine #katherine pierce #deadmisanthrope #misanthrope #misanthropesolo #fanfic #short story #POV #OneShot

[deadmisanthrope]

#MisanthropeSolo - Brother’s Keeper

There was never a second of hesitation. Which surprised even myself. Since none of this is my business, is it? No one ever cared for me. Not after I turned. Not when I merely survived on a minimum ration of blood for decades in order to keep a low profile after leaving Mystic Falls... and my brother. Not even after I escaped years of torture and needed someone to show me who I was.

No one ever stood up for me. So why should I? Every single person in this town made sure that I cannot trust them. Everyone betrayed me. So why should I care? I wouldn't say it was my fault. But it surely wasn't hers either. She didn't know. And neither did I.

It all began with a little sip. Doesn't it always start that way? Just a drop. A sip. And another one. And another one. I admit, I was worried when I found Stefan cowering in a corner, empty blood bags scattered around him on the floor, blood dripping from his chin, fear in his eyes. And shame, because I caught him. In fact I've never seen him drinking from a blood bag before. I had expected him to be a little edgy. He had been off human blood for decades, and getting back to it all of a sudden, might have gotten him a bit... overexcited. I had expected that, too. Hence I wasn't /that/ worried about him. He'd be fine. In fact, I was glad that he seemed to finally embrace his existence. And at first I saw him thriving. He was no longer the brooding bunny eater. And I even felt a little proud as his older brother. His mood was extraordinary good. He even talked back when I teased him. This was how I imagined it to be ever since. The Salvatore brothers on good terms, indulging our true nature. Almost too perfect. And then, things changed. Reports about robberies at the blood bank and the hospital. I first suspected the tomb vampires. That was before I found Stefan's secret stash in the basement. How could I argue against it? Because it was me who kept telling him to stop this self scourging and get off the animal blood. Of course there was nothing I could have said to him that would make me at least somewhat credible. But I wouldn't leave him this time. I would stand by him and find a way to get him onto the rails again. With the town council alarmed and aware and Mystic Fall's favorite son John Gilbert knowing about Stefan and me, we were running out of time and options. Thanks to... unfortunate circumstances Lexi was out of the picture. So I had to make the next best pick: Elena. She already suspected that there was something strange about my brother's recent behaviour. But who am I to tell her, right? Again, to a certain degree I approved of Stefan's new self. But he started to lose control. And that's the last thing we needed. So, I told Elena about Stefan's extra-curricular activities of large-scale theft. Which only peeked in his sudden abscondence from the Founder's Hall. Right before the dance. Well, this was only one poorly picked moment in a row of bad timings Stefan happened to gain a habit for. But there was never a second of hesitation. It wasn't her fault. Right now, Stefan was out of my reach. So all I could do for him is to take care of Elena.

"What are we gonna do?" she wispered when the dance began. Of course she wanted to do this with my brother instead. Well, I couldn't provide her that. Only the next best thing, so I thought. Me. "Right now, we just have to get through this." I whispered back, wishing I could make this less awful for her. But the show must go on, right?

The couples are lined up. The dance starts. And I try to recall the steps. I remember when we learned this dance back in 1864 for the first Founders Ball. I still know them by heart, because I practiced very hard... only that it was Stefan who got to dance with Katherine. I can't help finding a certain hilarity in dancing with my brother's girl 145 years after he danced with mine. The thought causes a corner of my lips to lift. And without intending it, I cause her to smile, too. And I can tell, she relaxes. The awkwardness of the situation, the urge to run for the hills — and not just because she wants to find Stefan — fades.

The dance proceeds. I wrap an arm around her, holding her close. Carefully, like I would hold a bird. Too much pressure, and I would crush it, too little and it would just fly away. Elena, however, does no longer seem like she wants to be somewhere else. Maybe I managed to make this not the worst day of her life. Actually I intent to substitute my brother the best I can. And by the look on her face, the soft smile that is slowly showing, I dare do conclude, that I'm doing good. The way she follows my every movement — fluid, professional — the way her hair wavers around her shoulders... and there's something about the look on her face. Something that makes her look almost like... I know she's not Katherine. But for a moment I wonder if this is how it would have been. If it would have been me. For a moment, everything and everyone around us becomes indistinct as I'm taken back in time. A certain... "youth"... creeps over me, when my past self takes the lead of a dance that happened a century and a half ago. Only, that it never happened. But in this very moment, it did. It does. It feels like writing a distant memory. Rewriting history. Like fate decided that it made a mistake and eventually grants me this one moment...

The dance comes to an end and we get back in line. I notice the other couples around us doing the same, and the people around staring in awe, putting their glasses aside to get ready to applaud. I'm back. The memory fades and makes way for the things at hand. We managed to get through this. And she seemed to enjoy it. I did good. I'm rather proud of myself. Now I would head out and find Stefan and find a way to fix him so he could be with his girl again. Yes. Good job, Damon. You can be proud. Doing the right thing feels... "great".

~ end of solo ~

#tvd #damon #damon salvatore #elena #elena gilbert #katherine #katherine pierce #stefan #Stefan Salvatore #defan #delena #datherine #deadmisanthrope #MisanthropeSolo #the vampire diaries #OneShot

[deadmisanthrope]

#MisanthropeSolo - Tempus fugit

«... мy aғғecтιonѕ and wιѕнeѕ ғor yoυ нave noт cнanged, вυт one word ғroм yoυ wιll ѕιlence мe ғorever. ιғ, нowever, yoυr ғeelιngѕ нave cнanged, ι wιll нave тo тell yoυ, yoυ нave вewιтcнed мe вody and ѕoυl and ι love, love, love yoυ and never wιѕн тo вe parтed ғroм yoυ ғroм тнιѕ day on...»

I slam the book shut and put it down on the small table next to my seat, an annoyed frown settling on my face. Enough of this for now. Every single word seems to mock me, and even more so due to her absence. With a heavy sigh I push myself to a stand and approach the crystal bottle to find some distraction in the amber liquid.

Trust. Something that doesn't come easy to me. And yet I find myself putting my trust into something fickle and unpredictable. Even allow myself to hope. Where did this levity come from? Was it the light in her eyes? The curve of her smile? Has she already such a hold on me? I toss the drink back, aim to pour myself another one, but hesitate. Or is it me? Am I putting myself in a situation of suspense and uncertainty because it's the only thing I know? The familiarity of hurt. Clinging to the prospect of an ideal that might never come true.

I put the bottle down again, refrain from having another drink. This would end now. I can't rely on other people. The only person I can count on is me. It's always been me. Aside from occasional company, of course. You can't be alone all the time. Those girls I compelled not to scream when I fed on them and compelled again when I had enough of their company.

I grab the book from the table and head upstairs to leave it on Stefan's desk. This idea of ...happiness. Even more delightful, because it's limited. Temporary. Perishable. It's a lie. There is nothing precious or special about finiteness. Forever. For eternity. That's what people swear to each other. This infatuation, affection, this... attraction to life and mortality. It's a disease. A lie. It's temporary. And will be over soon.

Tempus Fugit

~ end of solo ~

#tvd #the vampire diaries #damon #damon salvatore #elena #elena gilbert #delena #deadmisanthrope #misanthrope #misanthropesolo #tempus fugit #amors manet #OneShot

[deadmisanthrope]

#MisanthropeSolo - Takeout (mini solo)

Brunette is my flavor of the day. And not by chance. I picked her with intent, since she looks like a certain doppelgänger that happened to stumble into my life not too long ago. I ran into her when I left the grill after some daytime drinking and listening to the whispered rumors about the deceased mayor's role at the last Founder's Day. She was just as surprised as me, but I seized the welcomed snack. Being new to town I volunteered to show her round, concealing my selfish motive behind a charming demeanor. When we reached the woods, we got a little closer. I tried a few things. Like I was talking to... "her". I told her things about me, I would never tell anyone. Especially not a random stranger. I guess after a few minutes she realized that this wasn't about her and she began to feel uncomfortable around this strange guy that poured out his heart. Her steps faltered and mine stopped. She didn't even get to scream before I tore her throat open and drained her body. I made it look messy on purpose, so people would think it was just another animal attack. But in fact it was an experiment. A failed one. I wasn't content with the things I said. With how I said them. I had to do better /if/ I ever chose to tell her.

#tvd #the vampire diaries #solo #fanfic #short story #damon #damon salvatore #Misanthrope #MisanthropeSolo #OneShot