G U Y S. Quit following this blog and sending asks. It’s an archive and nothing more. If you want to follow me or send asks, my new blog url is mercurialcrow.

I actually never said it is cause I don’t think Steferine is better than Datherine LOL; I DO however think Stelena is better than Delena and should have been end game (I’ll be forever salty and bitter about that). ANYWAY, back to the question. 

Datherine, which is toxic in itself, is not as off the deep end as Steferine is in that department. Stefan was compelled to not be afraid of her, he didn’t REALLY love her since he didn’t even KNOW her and when he finally DID know her, he was disgusted and terrified of the real her (a vampire). Later she tried to come between him and Elena, like a typical stalker, trying to get him back. He’s nothing but a ‘trophy’ to Katherine and I think a distraction as well. ‘If I can’t have you no-one can’ and that’s REALLY fucked up. To me, Steferine is almost as bad as Bonkai, and THAT ship is the WORST in my opinion.

Datherine is not AS toxic but still is in its own right since Katherine just toyed with him and did it so much that he has trust issues because of her. But Damon loved Katherine for who she was, he wasn’t afraid when she revealed what she was and I think she loved him, too, just not as much as she did in her obsession with Stefan. Which could have been the whole destiny fate crap. 

She was tossed into the cell behind Damon, nearly falling into him. Her eyes widened as she looked around the room. What the hell was he doing? She watched silently as Wes pointed to the wall and ceiling, only to have her mouth damn near fall to the floor after he spoke. “Burn in Hell,” Gwen breathed out as he slammed the door shut.

“Oh my god.” Hands moved to run through her hair as she began pacing the room. She couldn’t give Wes the cure…that couldn’t happen. Not when she didn’t have a clue as to what he wanted with it. But she couldn’t let Damon die…not like this. If he died it would be her fault and Gwen knew she couldn’t live with herself if that were to happen to him…even if he was a vampire.

Gwen’s eyes squeezed shut as her hand moved to touch the necklace she had hid from Wes during those four days of her torture. He’d seen it on her of course but some people couldn’t put two and two together very well. Slowly the huntress turned face the vampire, tears beginning to sting her eyes. This would be his choice, not her’s. This quite possibly was going to be the biggest decision of his life and unfortunately he wouldn’t get much time to think about it.

In a few steps she was crouched next to Damon, her hands moving to unhook her necklace. “Sam gave this to me in case I was ever in trouble with a vampire…well I’m in trouble with a vampire right now.” A tear slipped from her eye as she forced a small smile before taking a deep breath and pulling off pendant and opening it, placing it in Damon’s hands. “I can’t give this to him Damon, I can’t and I hope you can understand that.” She stopped as she moved to hold his face in her hands. “But at the same time I can’t let you die like this…I can’t let Wes kill you. I also can’t make you take this…this is your choice and I am so sorry you have to make it right now.”

Her eyes moved to meet the blue ones in front of her. She was terrified. Even if Damon took the cure it didn’t guarantee his safety. Wes could very well snap and just kill them both and then it would have all been for nothing. But there was always that chance, there was even a chance if he was still a vampire but it was smaller then the chance he’d have as a human. “I promise I will do everything I can do to protect you as a vampire or not….do you trust me?”

     — Damon's arms went around Gwen for the moment, steadying the huntress so she didn't stumble and fall as she exchanged those final words with their captor. Meanwhile, the vampire was busy taking in their new surroundings and barely heard it as Wes chuckled darkly and gave Gwen a pointed look, "Exactly. But it won't be me burning." the doctor's gaze slid to Damon and then back to her, letting the realization dawn even further before he turned and left, the door to their new 'cell' swinging shut with a resounding finality. This was it.

The vampire was sitting on the floor looking hopelessly crestfallen, legs splayed out in front of him, hands resting limply in his lap as he stared blankly off into space, wondering what time it was. How much longer he'd have before he burned into a fried crispy critter. He barely felt Gwen coming over and crouching down next to him. She was speaking nonsense, none of it making sense in his delirious state and it was quickly making Damon frown in irritation. "What the hell are you talking about?" he snapped, cerulean hues finally lowering to the vial as the realization hit him like a mack truck. Slowly the frown smoothed from his forehead and his lips parted in dismay, pale gaze lifting to hers, looking for any lie, any JOKE. But he saw none, just her dark tear-filled eyes and the way her bottom lip seemed to tremble when she was trying not to cry. Damon's cerulean hues focused on Gwen's mouth through his dark eyelashes and in response to her question— he leaned forward— closing the empty space between them and kissed her, his lips brushing over hers as a hand lifted to gently cup the brunette's cheek as if she were something fragile he might break.

Damon leaned back after a moment, staring at Gwen from inches away, eyes ping-ponging between her dark gaze. She was so strong and he was proud of her for it. She always called him out on his shit, yet was there for him no matter what despite their mutual threats to each other's lives and constant bickering. When had it become more than friendship? When had he become more than just a vampire? One she'd be willing to give the cure up for in order to save. "You realize if I take it, and he knows he's gonna just extract a vial of my blood and I'll be as good as dead anyway. You do understand that right?" the vampire asked softly yet seriously, cerulean hues becoming sad, features falling. "Are you POSITIVE?" he asked, the hand not on her cheek lifting to curl around the one holding the cure. "Can't turn back after I take it unless you WANT to kill me," he warned with a chuckle, throwing out humor in the face of such danger. Damon logic. Make her laugh so she doesn't think about the fact that you're gonna die.

The former vampire sighed, sounding wounded. "You don't call, you don't write. I'm hurt, Bon-Bon." his hand pressed dramatically to his heart and an overexaggerated pout jutted his bottom lip out as he stared down at her, waiting for her to turn around, “How hard is it to pick up your phone and send a text message? Having too much fun without me?” Then just like that, a full on smile— reserved just for Bonnie Bennett— blossomed on his features and his cerulean hues lit up with such love and affection that the ice that usually filled them when he looked at ANYONE else melted completely as he stared at the witch. Damon wanted to reach for her, pull her up into a hug like they would have shared years ago, but he'd leave the ball in her cart and do something totally unlike himself— wait.

            with  a  sigh ,    katherine  followed  him  out ,    but  never  came  close  enough  during  the  deal  to cause  any  actual  trouble    (   not  that  there  would  have  been  anyway   –––––––       katherine  and  vicki  were   well   acquainted  by  now   ) .        ❛   the  more  you  run ,    the  more  i’m  going  to  chase  you ,   ❜        katherine  called  after  him  with  a  quirked  eyebrow ,    the  chilly  air  doing   WONDERS   to  clear  her  troubled  mind.    not  that  her  statement  would  be  a  surprise  to  him   –––––––       she  had  always  liked  a  good  chase   almost  as  much  as  she  loved   being   chased.        ❛   if  you  actually  want  to  get  rid  of  me ,    it’s  better  to  just  hear  me  out  now  than   attempt   avoiding  me.   ❜        her  voice  never  faltered ,    but  her  gaze  certainly  did.    she  was  all  too  aware  of  the  product  he  held  in  his  pocket.    she  glanced  downward ,    lips  parting  in  anticipation  for  an  event  that  wouldn’t  come.    it  was  so  close ,    so  close ,    and  it  had  been  so  long …    she  forced  her  eyes  back  up  to  damon’s ,    swallowing.    breathe.    focus  on  his  pretty  blue  eyes.    breathe.        ❛   you  know  i’m  right ,   ❜        she  takes  a  step  forward ,    chin  tilted  high ,        ❛   so  what’s  it  going  to  be ,    damon   ?    are  you  going  to  indulge  me  for  a  few  minutes ,    or  would  you  rather  go   all  night  long   ?   ❜        she  emphasized  the  last  few  words  with  a  mischievous  smirk   –––––––       back  when  they  were  dating ,    the  same  phrase  would  have  meant  something   entirely   different.    he   had   been  good  in  bed ,    she’d  give  him  that   –––––––       damon  was  almost  as  addicting  as  the  opium  they  injected.    unfortunately ,    katherine  had  always  been  a   primadonna.    she’d  wanted  it  all ,    and  when  it  came  time  to  make  a  choice ,    she  chose  the  new  toy  over  her  childhood  blanket.    tonight    (   and  other  nights  recently  if  she  was  being  honest   ) ,     however ,    she  was  feeling  nostalgic.    she   missed   him   –––––––       mind  as  well  as  body ,    snark  as  well  as  sex ;    she  just  wanted  to  spend   time   with  him.

     — Damon rolled his eyes as he glanced back at Katherine and her 'threat'. "Yep, never would have imagined in a million years that you'd get tired of playing your games, K.P. How old are you again?" he called back childishly with a teasing smirk, eyebrows raising in response to her quirked expression before he turned away again, this time reaching the Camaro before Katherine's next words reached his ears.

The chilly air did the opposite for him, sure he was awake now, but the NEED for his fix was even louder, withdrawals gnawing at his stomach that was suddenly roiling with nausea. He sighed in frustration and paused midstep with his back facing her, cerulean hues rolling heavenward for otherworldly intervention before he turned back to face her, waiting with the driver's side door now open, leather-clad arms draped over the frame of the window as he stared, deadpanning at the brunette. Finally, Damon chuckled and shook his head, a self-mocking sound. He had never been good at telling her no. And if he was being honest, he missed her. The outcome of tonight would likely lead to drama and more crap that he wouldn't want to deal with tomorrow. But for now, who gave a damn? Not him.

"I need to get the hell out of here. You want to talk, get in the damn car." Damon snapped wearily, arm sweeping out to motion impatiently to the other side of the vehicle. He wouldn't give Katherine a chance to speak further. Either she got it the Camaro and left with him— or he was leaving her ass behind— which was made apparent as he turned without another word and slid in behind the steering wheel, the heavy door closing her off from taunting him any further.

     — Damon sighed and pointedly looked towards the ceiling for other-worldly intervention and assistance in curbing his frustrated irritation at what she had done. It was going to be a long night, especially when he realized a moment before Bonnie JUMPED onto him for a hug that she had finished the ENTIRE damn bottle of Black Magic. Not just a few drinks. But the entire. damn. thing. every drop. "Great," he said drily as he sighed again, his arms sliding around the witch to hoist her higher, KNOWING more than likely she had no plans of letting go anytime soon and the idea of tears leaking from his little redbird's dark eyes just gutted him. "No, you haven't. But you did just now." he smiled faintly at her, affection in the expression as they headed up to his room, Damon's curiosity over this book she left was just too much to bear. "You are NOT keeping any pets in this house," he replied a little too sharply, nudging the bedroom door open with a booted toe and stepping inside, intending to deposit the redhead on the bed.

     — Damon KNEW Katherine was being overdramatic, but he let her have her way without comment, knowing at the very worst she was still in pain from her body mending itself and at the very least was simply being a spoiled baby. Either way, he was catering to her whims just as easily as he had in 1864— it was his fault after all that they had crashed in the first place— and so he continued being as gentle as possible as he carried her down the shoulder of the highway. "Did I say I was sorry?" Damon asked softly with a hint of snark and a bit of a pout after a few silent minutes passed as he walked, heart speeding up just a bit as he became VERY aware of how close Katherine's mouth was to the side of his throat— the pulse point where she used to sink her fangs and take her fill of his blood. He was NOT going to allow her to affect him in ANY way, especially not THAT way. And he was GOOD at hiding it, denying his feelings for her, not allowing her little touches or whispers or other seductive endearments to work at getting beneath his carefully constructed walls that kept her out. Damon was GOOD at rejecting Katherine Pierce— even if he hadn't wanted to and it had been almost painful to do EVERY time he did it in the past.

A few minutes later they had made it to the bed and breakfast. Damon checked in, got the keys to their room and helped Katherine upstairs. Once inside— well, she was unceremoniously deposited dumped on the bed where he dropped down right next to her with a loudly exhaled sigh of relief, cerulean hues focusing on the ceiling for only a moment before they closed. "Shower or do whatever the hell you want to do. I'm gonna nap. Long day tomorrow, gotta get the car towed and find a rental." he murmured, one eye cracking open to glance at the brunette as he smirked. Was she going to try it? Or was she going to flounce off to the bathroom in her typical way to get cleaned up?

     — If Damon had been a cat instead of a vampire his hair would have been standing on end, but he wasn't; yet his demeanor STILL managed to throw out a bristling aura of 'don't touch me!' as Elena came closer, trying to see the wound in his shoulder— which was obviously a werewolf bite. "Like I JUST said, Elena, it's nothing! Will you stop?" he snapped, "Don't touch it!" he hissed, narrowing cerulean hues at her, upper lip curled as he roughly yanked his jacket back up over his shoulders, biting back a wince of pain.

They were supposed to be looking for Stefan and Klaus, NOT worrying about yet ANOTHER werewolf running around Mystic Falls biting vampires. What the hell was he going to do? Stefan couldn't barter for another drought of Klaus's blood. He was screwed. As good as dead. And they were no closer to getting Stefan back either. Damon hazarded a sulky glance towards Elena as he let out a sigh and rolled his eyes, feeling suddenly guilty for snapping at her when all she had wanted to do was help him. But he couldn't do it again. He couldn't let her watch him die. Not when he knew it was certainly going to happen this time. No way around it.

@causeimadick

The room was dark except for the dim glow that came from the television. Home made movies that Samuel had captured of himself and Stefan played along the screen. The dark form of the hybrid sat on the edge of the bed. Those dark eyes locked onto the screen. A half drank bottle of whiskey tightly clutched in his hand. How many times had watched these in one day? If he was being honest with himself, he didn’t know. It was the closest thing he had to his husband after his death. Everything had blurred together after Stefan’s passing and the hybrid had pushed himself away from everyone and everything. All he wanted was to be left alone. The house were THEY have build their life together was now filled with emptiness. This place haunted Samuel and not to mention it was a wreck. The house was almost destroyed after anger claimed Samuel after he came home from the funeral. He hadn’t taken a shower in days. Hell, he hadn’t left the house. What was the point? He had nothing left. Elena had come by on multiple occasions, yet Samuel never bothered to answer the door. The phone had been ripped from the wall. The hybrid was and tired of everyone ASKING him “how was he doing?” The last time he had talked to Elena it hadn’t been pretty. He had lashed out at her in the worst possible way. He didn’t know how to handle the grief. He didn’t know how he was going to keep going without his better half. He brought the the bottle to his lips and took a long drink before tossing it against the wall. The glass shattered, the remaining liquid inside it soaking the cream carpet. It was Stefan who had picked out the carpet, insisted on it. 

As usual Samuel gave in but the hybrid hated it. The whole house was Stefan’s doing, his plans. THIS house was built from ground up for THEM. That dream died the moment Stefan did. He couldn’t stay here, yet he couldn’t leave. How many times had he thought about selling it. He never could go through with it. The pain was always consuming him and nothing seemed to numb what he felt. He shaky breath escaped him as he leaned over toward the table next to the bed. Opening the drawer, laid a black bag and he grabbed it closing the drawer. Inside was a needle, a syringe and small bag of heroin. He pulled the contents out as he pulled out a rubber strap and tied it around his bicep. He had already prepped the heroin and filled it into the syringe.  “Shit..” He cursed under his breath as he felt for a good vein and having trouble.

     — Damon hadn't been lying when he told Stefan that without him it wouldn't be worth it, it wouldn't be the same, it wouldn’t MATTER, even if he had Elena back, he couldn't be happy or feel whole without his baby brother. They had been at odds for years, always blaming each other, never appreciating what they had until it was too late. So many nights Damon had wished he had died alongside Stefan, and now he'd have to spend the next fifty years or more (less if he had his way) without him until he, too, could join him in death. Would there be peace? Or would it be hellfire waiting for him even after Cade was gone and hell was 'shut down'? In his opinion, there was nothing else left worth fighting for. He wanted to be reckless, to chance fate, chance dying and because of that he easily fell into the welcoming numbness of Samuel's coping mechanism— heroin— and when he wasn't doing drugs he was drowning himself in bourbon— despite having become a total lightweight like any normal human.

He had gone between staying at the boarding house alone and sleeping over at Samuel's (when he let him). His brother-in-law becoming the only constant reminder— in a good way— that Stefan was still with them. It was also more convenient when they shot up or needed a fix to be in the same house.

"Awww, you couldn't even wait for me? Bad, Sammy." Damon chuckled as he tsked, tone half playful and half... empty... dead.. a mere shadow of his old self. The former vampire came around the bed to crouch in front of his brother-in-law, having noticed he was having trouble with the needle. "Lay back, buddy. I'll help you." Damon offered in a gentle murmur, reaching to take the syringe full of heroin from Sam's hand.