#survivingpierce

@survivingpierce: ❝ are you trying to get us in trouble? ❞

The roof provided a good observing point at the scene unfolding below them. The blaring of sirens, flashing lights of police vehicles and the ambulance. All this commotion — all for nothing. The man they'd come for would have no use for it.

This was precisely the reason why she avoided cities. Her curse getting the better of her was an inevitability she'd managed to traverse around whenever the time came. But in a city as large as this, this inevitability came with a lot of unwanted attention.

Though in this case, perhaps the attention could be used to their advantage.

❝Right on the contrary,❞ Tatia responded with a laugh; a ridiculously empty sound given the circumstances.

More bodies would follow. This time killed deliberately. Seemingly carelessly. A trail befitting a rogue vampire that went off the rails. All knowing eyes would turn to the city. Hunters and witches would get involved.

The city would be temporarily turned into a battleground. One that any sane vampire would leave behind.

❝By the time trouble comes, we will be long gone.❞ Nikaus' sentries would come looking anyway. Making sure that Katherine didn't choose to lay low and wait it out.

But Tatia will have already left a trail for them to follow. Far away from Barcelona.

❝And once the dust settles, you'll be free to return.❞

It wasn't the push. Nor the hand against his neck. Nor the fury in her eyes. It was the bitter conclusion her poor choice entailed. The unavoidable conclusion. "You are pathetic." Vampires liked to play. Not entirely unlike lions. But Tristan was in no mood to reverse their positions. He was in no mood to have her close at all. His hand reached. Absolute as the emergence of a snowstorm. Throwing her against the wall to the side of them and away from him. "And barely half my age. Petulant brat." A frozen stare reached her in judgement. "Was I too cruel? Too cold? Too honest? It was already pitiful enough when your plan was to collect the ingredients for the same ritual that once demanded your death in that miserable town. To prostrate yourself before Klaus and beg for his mercy. But this? The existence of this cure brings you a real opportunity to be rid of him. To take your revenge. To be free. And you are determined to waste it all away in the name of...What? The promise of love? Is that what you think is going to happen? Can you hear weddings bells? Tell me about your future with him, you ridiculous infant. How bold and brave your bets are for someone renowned for running away. How spectacularly stupid you are for someone so clever. Elijah is going to abandon you the very same heartbeat his brother needs him to. He will never choose you before him. You are not broken enough. You are not enough of a cause. Not enough of a reason. Nor an excuse. Not enough of a disguise for him to hide behind. Not enough of a source or guilt. Not enough of a source of love. Not compared to him. What will you have then, Katherine? Everything you have suffered. Everything I know you have suffered. And you still allow yourself to be this weak." He turned the gelid accusation of those disappointed eyes away from her. "I forgive you for your attack." His voice still reigning in displeased, bitter dissatisfaction. He accommodated the lapels of his suit. He straightened his tie. "There is no point of punishing someone so intent on hanging a rope around her own neck." He began walking towards the door. "When he forsakes you, when he leaves you alone in the dark once again, don't come crawling at my door. Our dealings are over. I cannot help someone who refuses to help herself. And for the sake of history: I was trying to help you. To help us both. Goodbye Katherine. I don't imagine we will see each other again." He did not turn to look at her one last time. "I hope you survive." The door closed behind him.

Send “Oops” for your muse to catch mine in just a towel.

-> damon

Eyebrows arch as he turns to face the intruder, spotting Katherine standing there unmoving. He watches as her eyes trail over his wet form, hair still dripping wet, body still damp from the shower he'd literally just stepped out of.

"What? It's nothing you haven't seen before." Damon comments, tone twinged with just a little bit of amusement, as he moves past her towards his bedroom so that he can get dressed. He expects her to follow, and he doesn't bother trying to ensure that she doesn't.

“Feeling. Knowing emotion. Raw emotion. I think I would kill myself if I ever came to feel something for anyone ever again. You know why? Because turning your feelings — your humanity off is much more better.”

@survivingpierce Tension Liner Prompts

(also hiiiii, thank you for finding me again, i remember we wrote in 2019 🙈)

@survivingpierce omggggg hiii! we sure as shit did.

Damon’s expression tightened, though the reaction was gone almost as quickly as it appeared. He looked away from her, jaw working once before a humorless smile pulled at the corner of his mouth. “Maybe not.” The admission came quieter than she probably expected. He took a slow step closer, studying her with the same wary intensity he always seemed to reserve for her.

“But you don’t get to decide that for me.” His gaze held hers, colder now, even if something less certain lingered underneath it. "You spent a century and a half making sure I wanted exactly what you needed me to want. Every promise, every little look, every conveniently unfinished truth.” Damon gave a soft laugh, shaking his head. “So forgive me if separating what I want from what you put there takes a little time.”

“You ruined a kill I had in line. Of course my face is sour. Go get him back before I ruin that pretty face of yours.”

Damon expects the sting of fangs, the feeling of contentment that washes over him every time she drinks from him. There is something alluring in knowing that he can keep her fed if she needs it. For the most part, however, she does not take as much blood from him as he’d like.  

She finds it elsewhere. Something about that makes him jealous, though he’s aware that those people she feeds from may not make it out alive. He’s different in that way, he knows exactly what she is, and she allows him to live. Allows him to love her in the way she deserves to be loved. 

He will worship her every second of his life if she will allow him to. 

The puncture of fangs never come, but that does not mean he doesn’t relish the feeling of human teeth and tongue. His eyes shut as he releases a breath of contentment, happy to keep his neck arched for her as long as she’d like him to. 

It is only when she tells him she’s not hungry, and gives a possibility of later, does Damon straighten and open his eyes to look at her. He wants to ask her to feed from him regardless, but Katherine is a stubborn woman and he would never make her bite him, as much as he enjoys it. 

Riding? 

She implies something sultry before she clarifies that she means horses, teasing him in the process. “You’re a terrible tease.” Damon says fondly, lips curling into a smile. Riding horses is not the thought he had in mind. 

 It surprises him, women are not often seen riding horses – if ever. How could he ever refuse her, though? Katherine is not like most women and he would never dare to tame that wildfire spirit inside of her that makes her do things such as this. He likes it, finds a certain excitment in the way she behaves. 

“I can ride. Father has a few decent horses.” While it would not go over well with his father, and he’d certainly have hell to pay, it would be worth it to let Katherine ride one of the fine horses that they have in the stables.

“I can sneak into the stables and gather a couple for us. There are fields nearby suitable to ride in, if you don’t want attention on you. Women aren’t often seen riding here.”