big bang! The Fine Art of Poisoning
Oct. 16th, 2010 03:57 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
turnonmyheelsTitle: The Fine Art of Poisoning
Fandom: The Vampire Diaries
Rating: NC-17
Pairings/Characters: Damon/Katherine, Stefan/Katherine, Damon/Stefan, Damon/Katherine/Stefan
Warnings/enticements:: Bloodplay, felching, double-penetration
Word Count: ~11,500
Summary: In the Spring of 1864, Katherine Pierce poses as an orphan to gain entry to the Salvatore estate in Southern Virginia. She captivates the household with her beauty and charm. She has everyone under her thumb with one exception, Stefan Salvatore. Determined to seduce him without using compulsion, Katherine decides to use Stefan's only obvious weakness against him—his brother. Pitting the brothers against each other quickly becomes more than a game, turning into full-on obsession as Damon requires no compulsion and little seduction to corrupt his younger brother. As the triangle shifts and the body count rises, no one will remain unscathed.
Disclaimer: All quotes taken from Jill Tracy’s album Diabolical Streak. This original work of fan fiction is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike 3.0 Unported License
Notes: This would not have been possible without my amazing betas![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
ladycat777 and moosesal thank you so very much. Any remaining mistakes are my own.
Art Post: bycool_rain_kiss here
Bonus Content: Music
May 20, 1864
Dearest Stefan,
I do not know how much longer I will be able to bear this war. Every day I lose another brother. These men could never replace you in my heart, but we share a bond of witnessed atrocities that cannot be underestimated. These burdens I’ve witnessed -- these images and sounds that haunt my dreams and echo endlessly in my heart -- are lightened when shared, and I am grateful to share them with brothers-in-arms who are not you. Every day I thank God that you were too young to join and that Father keeps you safe at home. Imagining you safe and sheltered at home is the only thing that allows me to sleep at night.
I long for the comfort of home; hot water to bathe in, good, filling food on the table, to be away from the constant sounds of men injured and dying, the rumble of canon and rifle fire. To be able to move freely without fear of being shot and killed.
I beg you to turn a deaf ear to the ones who will tell you it is your duty to join. It is your duty to see our family’s slaves freed and provided a living wage if I do not return and the Confederates somehow manage to win. The hypocrisy inherent in killing men to defend the right to own other men is wearing on my soul. Every time I point the barrel of my gun at a man and pull the trigger I feel more and more numb. I fear the hollow empty feeling is a rot that is spreading through my soul.
Surely, there is an honorable way out of this?
There isn’t, of course. There is no honor in killing. No honor in owning men. No honor in desertion. As always, it appears I am destined to be everything I disdain.
My regiment is scheduled for leave soon. I hope that the comforts of home balm my wounds and ease my aching heart.
Until then be well my brother,
Damon
~*~
Even though Damon has asked me not to try and intercede on his behalf, I feel that I must. The tone of his latest letter has worried me greatly. Usually, Damon spins tales of campfires and foolishness he partakes in with other troublemaking "Johnny Rebel's". He's never written of anything more serious than the name of the town from which he posts his mail.
I am afraid that a tremendous horror has befallen him; there is no other reason for his letter to be so utterly out of character. Unless. No -- surely, the war has not broken his spirit? I cannot imagine -- nor would I want to -- life without his winsome nature. Damon is the only source of laughter and high spirits in this family; he has always had a biting edge but I cannot imagine him morose and acrimonious.
I shall endeavor to ask Miss Pierce to try to charm him back to his usual self when he arrives on leave. Surely, between the two of us we can cajole him to a better frame of mind.
Excerpt from Stefan Salvatore's journal dated June 30, 1864
~*~
“I will not.” Giuseppe looks up from his journal and glares at his youngest son. “Do not waste my time asking again.”
“But Father, it’s destroying him. Damon wasn’t meant to be a soldier, he’s not a killer! You know that.” Stefan steps closer to his father’s desk. “I know we can afford to buy him out.”
Giuseppe tosses his quill down, careless of the ink that smears across the wide oak desk. “It’s not about the money, Stefan! It’s about pride. And honor. Our family name will be ruined if we do this. What will the other families think if I buy out my son and theirs are still fighting?”
“Do you really care more for your reputation than you do for your oldest son?”
Giuseppe abruptly stands and pushes away from his desk crossing the room to stare out of the window, back turned to Stefan. Stefan’s hands clench the edge of his Father’s desk and he waits, white knuckled, for his Father to return his attention to him.
The clock on the mantle over the stone fireplace ticks, the only break in the unbearable silence. Stefan counts out the seconds as they turn into minutes, each tick seemingly louder than the one before, with no response from his father.
Stefan resists the urge to sigh, letting his head fall forward instead. It has always been this way between his brother and his father. Neither Damon nor Stefan knows why and neither has ever dared to ask Giuseppe. Stefan yearns for Damon, the weight of his knowing gaze, the quirk of his lips when he smiles, his solid presence by Stefan’s side. Despair fills him, a physical presence churning in his stomach and weighing heavy on his heart. Stefan forces his fingers to relax their grip on the desk and walks to stand beside his father.
The view from his Father’s window is spectacular. Row upon row of tobacco stretches as far as the eye can see to the south. The eastern fields house the grapevines and their arbors, rose bushes dotted among them. Stefan turns his gaze to the western side of the plantation, still heavily forested and filled with game. He can hear the deep bass of the men’s voices chanting as they top the tobacco. The children’s voices floating high and sweet from the wide, shaded porches where they shuck corn and string beans. He can hear but not see the women sing counter melody to the men as they tend the gardens in the northern fields that will keep them all fed during the rapidly approaching winter.
If the men, women, and children laboring under the blistering sun were free, working together for the benefit of all, Stefan cannot imagine anything that he could be more proud of. But as always the sight fills him with shame and revulsion. He cannot believe his father forces his brother to risk his life for this travesty his neighbors call “The Cause.”
Giuseppe exhales loudly, finally breaking the long silence. “Your brother refuses to uphold his responsibilities. He thinks of nothing save his own pleasure and whims. It is time he learned to be a man.”
Stefan stands shoulder to shoulder with his father, the pair of them mirror images from behind. They both clasp their hands behind their backs and do not look at one another, keeping their gazes focused on the fields beyond. “Forcing him to kill for a cause he doesn’t believe in will not teach him responsibility, Father. It will only make him reckless and desperate.”
“Then it’s a good thing I have you to be responsible, isn’t it?” Giuseppe clasps a hand on his shoulder and squeezes tightly. “Why don’t you go and entertain Miss Pierce? Perhaps she will be able to ease your mind. She comes from a good family, Stefan; she would not be a bad match for you.”
Stefan looks askance at his father and steps out of arm’s reach. “Miss Pierce is lovely and spirited to be sure, but until Damon is home safely for good -- not just leave -- I will have no peace.” He strides toward the door, grasps the crystal knob with one hand, and turns back to face his father. “And neither should you.” He gently pulls the door closed behind him and leans heavily against the solid mahogany. He closes his eyes and breathes in and out slowly and deeply, trying to calm himself. Getting angry at his father is as futile as trying to forget his worries with their houseguest.
When he feels he has himself under control he opens his eyes and startles to find Miss Pierce standing in front of him. “I didn’t hear you.”
“No, you didn’t.” She snaps open the pearl-handled fan she carries in the house then flips it closed again and taps it against his chest. “You’re too distracted to notice me at all it seems.” She looks up at him through her eyelashes and purses her lips into a pretty pout.
“Forgive me, Miss Pierce. I am ... concerned about my brother.”
“Dearest Stefan, how many times must I ask you to call me Katherine?” Her arm slides around his, grasping his bicep in her slender hand, she leads him toward the parlor. “Tell me all about your beloved brother’s latest letter. Don’t leave anything out! I do so love to hear our soldier’s accounting of the battles.”
When they reach the front parlor, Katherine’s handmaid is waiting for them with cool glasses of water. When those are dispensed, she stations herself behind them, waving a large, woven fan to combat the heat. “Damon doesn’t write about the battles.”
“No? How strange, I’ve always found men to be eager to speak of war and bloodshed.”
Stefan sips his water and belatedly nods his thanks in Emily’s direction. “Damon doesn’t, no -- we do not believe in this war. He wants to come home, and I want him here.”
“I see.” Katherine tosses her head and smiles in understanding. “And your father disagrees?”
Stefan nods and Katherine taps him on the chest with her fan once again. “Well then, I guess we’ll both have to find a more ... compelling argument for bringing your brother home.”
Stefan can’t help but smile at Miss P-- Katherine’s infectious enthusiasm. “It would have to be most compelling indeed.”
“I’m sure between the two of us we can think of something.” Katherine smiles up at him and winks before bursting into a fit of giggles. “When do you suppose your brother will be home?”
“The letter was dated in May. The mail is so slow and unreliable these days, I suppose he could walk through the door any minute.” Stefan stares into the surface of the water in his glass. “Unless something has happened …”
Katherine takes the glass from his hand and sets it on the side table before taking both of Stefan’s hands in hers and squeezing gently. “Do not speak that way Stefan, I am sure your brother is well and that he is traveling as fast as he can.”
Stefan returns her gesture and meets her steady gaze. “How can you be so confident of his safety? There could be skirmishes, or ambushes. Anything at all could happen. You said yourself that the journey from Atlanta was treacherous and you spent a great deal of time hiding from stragglers.”
“Because my dearest Stefan, I wish to know both you and your brother.” Katherine leans forward to whisper conspiratorially in Stefan’s ear. “And what I want, I always get.”
“Always?” Stefan can’t help but smile at her audacity; it reminds him strongly of Damon’s swagger and bluster.
“Always,” Katherine confirms with a flutter of eyelashes.
“Then I shall rest easier at night.” Stefan kisses the back of both Katherine’s hands. “I hate to leave your charming company, but I have work I must attend to.”
“Please, don’t let me keep you.” Katherine snaps her fan open and flutters it as she watches him walk out the door. After Stefan closes the door behind him Katherine turns to Emily. “Get Pearl. Tell her to send someone who won’t be missed to find Stefan’s precious brother and ensure he arrives home safely and, for god’s sake, quickly. Perhaps a spell wouldn’t be amiss either.”
“Yes, Miss Katherine.”
“Stefan is no fun at all with his mind on Damon all the time.” Katherine pouts. “I’m bored Emily. You know what happens when I get bored.”
“Perhaps you should compel Stefan.”
“No, that would be too easy. I desire a challenge, so I believe I want to do this the old-fashioned way. And besides, I don’t want to interfere with his mind, it is quite Machiavellian.” Katherine leans her head against the back of the settee and closes her eyes with a satisfied smile. “You can’t imagine what sinful thoughts that innocent face hides, Emily. Even I find them quite shocking.”
“I rather doubt that.”
“Yes, well you’d be surprised. Regardless, before the end of the year I will be married to one Salvatore or the other and then I will run this house and we -- all of us -- will run this town.” Katherine opens her eyes and studies her nails. “Now, bring me someone to eat. I’m hungry.”
~*~
I was fully aware that Katherine and Pearl had plans to make Fells Church their home when I led them here. Katherine wanted to find land that had natural power. A land rich with ley lines, pleasing to the eye, and easily defendable. It took years to find the perfect location. I just never imagined she would create so many others like her along the way. Or that they would all converge on the same small community and believe they would not attract attention. I know the town's people are frightened and trying desperately to find a way to save themselves from the "demons" that come out at night. I have heard that Jonathan Gilbert is trying to create devices to help hunt and destroy the vampires. I must find a way to spell these devices so that they work and not arouse Katherine's suspicions while I am at it.
Excerpt from Emily Bennett's Grimoire
“This wasn’t how I pictured my homecoming,” Damon says as he collapses onto the grass gasping for breath from the impromptu game of tag.
“No?” Stefan asks, breathing hard as he flops down beside him. A quick roll onto his side allows him to lean up on his elbow, gazing at his brother.
“Tell me, Mr. Salvatore, how is this different from how you imagined it?” Katherine gathers her skirts together and sits between the brothers.
Damon pulls the woolen Confederate cap off of his head and tosses it aside. “I was positive the first person I saw would be Becky and she would yell at me to get out of my filthy uniform. She’d chase me to the bath and pour scalding water over me and coat me in lye soap from head to toe while she ranted and raved about lice and how skinny I am and clucked her tongue over my scars.”
“Scars?” Stefan sits up and peers at Damon as though he can see through his uniform to the damaged skin beneath.
“Yes, scars dearest brother. They’re quite dashing I assure you.” Damon returns his gaze to Katherine and reaches for her closest hand and kisses the back of it. “Then I’d get dressed and join Stefan and Father in the parlor. You would hug me and be glad that I was home safe and sound, and Father would be quietly disappointed that his feckless son had not yet died honorably in battle.”
“Damon,” Stefan quietly interjects.
“Don’t ‘Damon’ me Stefan, you know it’s true.” Damon shrugs out of his uniform jacket and lies back on the grass, propping up on his elbow, body turned toward Katherine and Stefan. “Instead, Becky hasn’t caught sight of me yet, Father is absent, and we’re entertaining the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen. This is definitely better than anticipated.” He smiles at both of them. “Where is Father? Please tell me I can delay seeing him for some time?”
“He’s at a Council meeting,” Stefan replies, unable to tear his hungry gaze away from his brother. He’s riveted by the minor differences in his appearance -- the leanness of his face, how he favors his left side, the sardonic bitterness to his smile that he’s never seen before. It’s as though his brother has changed in some fundamental way that he cannot begin to grasp.
“Boring,” Damon replies and leaps to his feet. “Do you know what wouldn’t be boring? A swim.” He struggles out of his shoes and pulls his shirt over head before tossing it carelessly on the ground. He heads toward the creek and calls over his shoulder, “Anyone want to join?”
“I’d love to,” Katherine calls out. “Unfortunately, I’m afraid it would scandalize your brother.” She giggles and nudges Stefan. “Go on, you know you want to.”
“Are you sure you’ll be all right?” Stefan asks, eyes still trained on his brother. He knows it isn’t proper to stare in this manner but it’s Damon -- home and exactly the same and yet completely different. He must find this thing that is different and learn it so that no part of his brother will be unfamiliar to him.
“Quite sure,” she affirms. “I’ll be right here when you’re done. Go on now, Stefan. Shoo!” Permission so granted, Stefan clambers to his feet and races off to join Damon.
Katherine watches them as they go. Her sensitive hearing makes it easy to listen long after they’re out of sight. The splashes and happy shouts of two brothers enjoying each other’s company.
They’re both so very easy to read. Neither has any idea at all how to hide their surface thoughts even from a distance. There’s a thread of something not unlike desire running through Stefan. Greedy possessiveness is most likely a better way to define it, but with the right influence it could be turned into something more. Damon for all the appearance of nothing but carefree capriciousness is full of vindictiveness and a lusty hunger that Katherine has rarely seen in a human.
Katherine allows a sweet, high peal of laughter to escape her throat as she listens to the brothers splashing away. Schemes within schemes spin through her mind. Playing one brother against the other has appeal. Drawing them both to her bed, perhaps, one at a time. Drive them mad with jealousy before she allows them to know that it is both of them together that she truly wants -- oh, yes. Katherine lets her fangs drops and runs her tongue over them, secure in the knowledge that no one can see her. That plan has a great deal of appeal.
She could keep them forever.
But more likely only until she’s bored.
“Did you enjoy your evening with my brother?”
It’s possible that if she were human Damon could have snuck up behind her and startled her. Fortunately, she is far from human; she can, however, play the part. She jumps a little and spins to face him, hands clasped to her chest, always playing the innocent for them. “Damon! You scared me.”
“I doubt that.” He steps closer to her, slowly but surely backing her toward the wall. “Did you enjoy dancing with him? I’m sure you did. After all, I taught him everything he knows about dancing, flirting, and the best way to take liberties at a ball. Did he hold you closer to him than society deems polite? I know he took all the waltzes for himself and filled your dance card so that no one else could get close to you. Tell me, Miss Pierce what other small indiscretions Stefan took that I was unable to see.”
“Damon, please.” Katherine pitches her voice high and scared. Damon cups her breasts softly, barely a whisper of touch over the silk of her evening gown, delicately rubbing his thumbs over her nipples. It tickles. She despises being tickled. She resists the urge to grab him by the throat and slam him into the wall. Barely. “You’re frightening me.”
“No, I’m not.” She’s backed flush against the wall now. Damon presses his body against hers and drags his hands from her breasts, digging his fingers into her flesh, tugging her porcelain skin with his nails across her sternum, along the sides of her throat. Katherine forces down an approving hum for the rougher treatment. Finally he places a hand on either side of her head and leans in close enough that she can feel his breath ghosting against her lips. “Unlike Stefan and my father, I’m not naïve to the realities of life. I’ve been in war. I’ve killed. I’ve pillaged. I’ve gladly taken the camp followers -- and anyone else who offered themselves to me. I’ve watched the dead be eaten by scavenging animals. And I’ve seen what comes out at night to ravage the sick, the injured, and the unsuspecting.”
He leans in even closer and traces her bottom lip with his tongue. “I’m not stupid. I know what you are. I’ve seen the bites on the slaves, I know what it means.”
“If you know so much --” In a fraction of a second Katherine reverses their positions, slamming him against the wall and cutting off his airflow with one deceptively small, delicate hand. “Then you know better than to think you can hurt me.”
Damon gasps for breath. Despite that, he still tries to pull her flush against him. Katherine obliges him by stepping closer, humming a little as he thrusts his hips against her. She loosens her grip around his throat when she feels the length of his erection slide over the layers of clothes between them. He opens his mouth and tries to speak but he can’t get enough air to form the words. Katherine releases his neck and drags her nails down the center of his body, nearly cutting through the cotton fabric of his shirt.
Damon coughs raggedly, struggling to get air into his lungs. When he finally catches his breath, he frames her face with both hands and studies her. “I want you and you want me. My leave will be over soon and I don’t want to waste any more time playing these ridiculous coquettish games. I know what you are and I don’t care. ”
“Tell me, then. What am I?” Katherine has him in her grasp now. The heat of his flesh is hot enough to be felt through his trousers. He’s hard and throbbing, hips canting toward her, trying futilely to push further into her grip.
“You’re a vampire.”
“And you’re not afraid.” She squeezes him then. A small smile plays along the corner of her mouth as he groans. “Are you suicidal or merely stupid?”
“I’d rather die by your fangs in my throat than a bullet.” He thrusts against her palm again, blue eyes glittering at her in the darkness of the hallway, not five feet from his father’s door. “I’m not afraid of you, Katherine. If you wanted us dead we would be by now.”
“You’re not wrong.” Katherine lets her fangs drop, feels the veins unfold as they spider web around her eyes. Damon tilts his head to the side, instinctively inviting her bite. She grasps his shirt and rips it open, heedless of the buttons as they fly off and ping along the wooden floor then roll away. She sinks her teeth into his chest, right above his heart. He gasps aloud, head banging back against the wall, unable to stop himself from coming in his pants as she drinks him down.
Damon toys with a lock of her hair as she licks the bite, teasing out every last drop of blood. Perhaps his claim of understanding is true then. When she pulls away and looks up at him he’s smirking at her. “Shall we take this to my bed or yours?”
Katherine steps back, takes him by the hand, and drags him down the hall. “Yours. I despise sleeping on sheets covered in bodily fluids.”
~*~
Damon jerks awake and sits upright in bed, uncertain as to what awakened him. The sheets pool around his thighs and he can’t help but run his fingers over the bite marks and scratches littering his torso before he pulls the covers up to his waist. He looks around the dark room to find Katherine completely naked standing at his bedroom window watching the sky lighten slowly before true sunrise. She is without a doubt the most glorious sight he’s ever seen. One he wants to wake to every morning for as long as he can.
Kicking the sheets aside, he crosses the room to stand behind her. He caresses her shoulders and glides his fingertips down her arms to capture her hands in his. He smiles as she leans into the warmth of his body. He dips his knees as she spreads her legs wide enough for him to slip inside of her. Her head falls back against his chest and he revels in her breathy rumbles as he slowly drags one hand along her hip to her bush of curly dark hair, fingers seeking the bundle of nerves that make her knees weaken.
His thrusts gather speed until he is fucking her as hard as he can. He pushes her against the window for leverage, shifting to the balls of his feet to change the angle slightly. He knows her breasts are pressed against the window, exposed to anyone in the yard. The idea of someone, anyone (Stefan), seeing makes his rhythm falter, a bolt of heat pushing him over the edge. He hisses as she clenches around him, coming hard. Her breath hitches in her throat as he does. She’s not quite there. Just needs a little bit more. Eager, she knocks his hand away from her clitoris, and replaces it with her own.
“Let me,” he says, pulling her hand away. He drops to his knees and turns her around in one fluid motion, holding her against the window and lifting one leg over his shoulder so he can rub his forehead along the wiry hair at the apex of her thighs. He breathes in her scent and licks slowly along her center.
“Damn it, Damon, hurry up.” Katherine is breathless, hungry -- always hungry -- for more.
He sucks her clit and pulls away, puffing a breath of air across it. “Huh-uh.” His tongue traces her folds before dipping inside of her. “Want to taste me in you.” He feels her fingernails dig into his shoulders and thrusts his tongue deeper inside of her, swirling it around and sucking as his tongue slides out. Damon smacks his lips together. “Delicious.” Using both hands, he spreads Katherine wide. She’s still pressed up against the glass and though only her delicate shoulders and long, dark hair will be visible, anyone who glances up will still know exactly what is happening. Damon’s body responds to that, even if he needs time before becoming hard once more, alternating sucks with nibbling at her clit, then fucking her with his tongue until his own bitter flavor is gone and only her honeyed tang remains.
Desperate by now, she grinds against his face as he slides three fingers inside, crooking them just so, rubbing the pads of his fingers in circles. Katherine comes hard, gasping out his name. Damon replaces his fingers with his tongue and licks into her as he eases her down. Eventually, she pushes him away and slides down to her knees beside him. They share laughter along with kisses, the hard length of his cock presses at the juncture of her thighs once again. She pushes him down onto his back and straddles him, slowly lowering herself down until she’s flush against him. Damon groans as she begins slow, lazy figure eights.
“The one thing I don’t understand is how you’re able to walk in the sunlight.” His hands clasp her hips tightly, urging her to move faster but she resists.
“The one thing I don’t understand is how you’re still talking instead of breathless from fucking me.” She arches an eyebrow and giggles as he surges up and flips them over, hooking her legs over his arms, pressing them back toward her chest.
“I’ll show you breathless,” he pants out, pushing her legs even further back as he leans forward and kisses her. Her fangs drop and she bites his lip, coming as his sweet blood floods her mouth. The pain makes him thrust even harder, rough as he pours himself into her. He collapses on top of her and smiles beatifically as Katherine pierces her own finger with a fang, using her blood to heal the bite on his mouth that he won’t be able to hide. He sucks the blood and shivers as he feels it hit his system, potent enough to cause him to harden again already.
Katherine strokes him idly as they lie on the floor and the dawn breeze wafts across their sweaty bodies. She rests her head against Damon’s chest, occasionally re-biting and sucking at the mark she left over his heart. “Tell me what you want.”
“Want from what?”
“From life.”
He’s quiet for a moment, playing with a lock of her hair, winding it around and around his fingers before letting the curl fall and starting all over again. “I want out of the army. I want away from this place, away from my father. I want to spend my life making love to you and making you laugh.”
Katherine smiles against his chest and sighs contentedly. “What about Stefan?”
“What about him?”
“Wouldn’t you miss him? Wouldn’t it be better if we were all together?”
“Better for whom?” Damon chuckles under his breath. “You?”
Katherine closes her eyes as she releases his cock and trails her fingertips down Damon’s side. “Well, I am the only one who matters.”
“I suppose the three of us could be fun for awhile. But Stefan has always talked about family and children, the plans he has for the plantation. He’s far too serious to dedicate his life to fun.”
“I’m sure he could be persuaded.”
“Katherine, you could persuade a snake to grow legs and walk even without your powers of compulsion, but a ménage a trois with anyone, much less his big brother, is the last thing our young and innocent Stefan would ever want.”
Katherine sits up and looks at Damon. “You’re so sure?” Katherine cocks an eyebrow at him.
“I am.”
“You know nothing of his deepest thoughts, but I can hear them. Sometimes I can even see them, Damon. You’d be surprised by Stefan’s true desires.” She leans over and brushes a kiss on the corner of his mouth. “Not to mention, I can manipulate him into doing whatever I want.”
“You’re the one who said you didn’t want to compel him.” Damon rolls over onto his side and leans forward capturing Katherine’s nipple with his teeth. He bites gently and eases Katherine back down to the floor.
“Maybe I changed my mind.” She pouts when Damon releases her nipple only to smile as he turns his attentions to her other breast. “I am entitled to do that you know.” He hums agreement against her flesh and nibbles underneath her breast. “And his feelings for you … they’re deeper, more complex than you can imagine.” She captures his lips with hers, tongues dancing in a deep, dirty kiss. “Not unlike yours for him.”
Damon pulls away from her and meets her gaze squarely. “I want to be with you, Katherine. I want to be like you. If you want to bring Stefan into this for a while, I’m more than willing. I am not unversed in the pleasures men can find in one another -- nor am I blind to his beauty.” One hand slides along the curve of her hip and drags through the slick of her cunt. She’s fucked open, wet as a river stream and eager for more. “You know he’s too much like Father to want to be like you.” He thumbs her clit and slides two fingers inside of her. “He’s enough like me to want you anyway he can get you, but I don’t think he’ll agree to share you.”
Katherine’s breath hitches when Damon replaces his fingers with his cock in one smooth thrust. She laughs softly, saying, “We’ll see about that.”
“Damon!” Stefan bursts into his brother’s room to find Damon shirtless and lying face down on his bed. That stops Stefan in his tracks, mesmerized by the rise and fall of Damon’s shoulders as he breathes. Sunlight streams through the window limning Damon’s muscles and casting an ethereal glow so beautiful that Stefan cannot tear his eyes away. Damon makes a small noise and rolls onto his side. Stefan drinks in the sight, searching for the scars Damon has mentioned that he has yet to see. His gaze travels slowly along the planes of muscle, he sees no scars, only … he steps closer unsure of what he’s seeing. Bite marks, it seems like. There are bite marks scattered all over Damon’s chest.
Bites that he would bet his life match the ones on his own body.
He unconsciously rubs the healing bite directly over his own heart. Crossing the room, he sits beside the still sleeping Damon and traces with gaze along what he’s certain are the outlines of Katherine’s teeth on his brother’s chest. He’s surprised to find he feels no anger, only a strange sense of jealousy that Katherine has known his brother in a way that he has not. Even more strangely, a desire to touch the marks himself.
Stefan shakes his head to clear his thoughts and nudges Damon. “Damon, wake up!”
Damon’s eyes fly open, his hands coming up in a defensive posture before he comes fully awake and realizes who has roused him. “Stefan, what is it?” Damon sits up and reaches for his shirt, sliding his arms into the sleeves but leaving it unbuttoned. “Has something happened to Katherine?”
“No, she’s fine,” Stefan reassures him. He hands Damon an envelope. “Open it.”
The letter is addressed to Damon. It has clearly already been opened and read. “Your utter lack of personal boundaries is showing again, brother.” Damon slides the parchment out of the envelope and reads through it quickly, then once again more slowly. His hands tremble and he swallows thickly. “Is this real?”
“Yes, it is absolutely real.”
“I can’t believe it. How did this happen?”
Stefan looks pointedly at the bite framed by Damon’s open shirt. “I think you know.”
Damon glances down at the bite and back up at Stefan. “I didn’t realize you knew.”
Stefan smiles shyly at Damon and shrugs his shoulders. “Katherine obviously compelled Father to buy out your commission. You’re finally free, Damon.” He stands from the bed and holds out his hand to Damon. “Let’s tell Katherine together. We can celebrate.”
Damon takes his hand and lets Stefan pull him to his feet and into a hard and lingering hug.
~*~
I pray every night that it is not true. I raised my sons -- both of them -- better than to fall in league with Demons. And yet there can be no other explanation for Damon's release from his obligations. It is my signature on the letter, the funds were drawn from my bank. I have no recollection of doing these things; therefore, it must be true that one of these creatures is living under my roof, seducing my son or, God forbid, both of my sons. I cannot believe that I could have been so blind.
Jonathan says his device will be ready soon. I will delay action until I have absolute proof.
Excerpt from Giuseppe Salvatore's journal dated September 13, 1864
~*~
“The townspeople know, Katherine. Frederick fed from a slave filled with vervain last night and has yet to recover. We cannot stay here any longer.”
“Send the others on then, Pearl. I’m not leaving here and neither should you. We’ve bought too much land to lose it now.” Katherine takes her friend’s hands in her own. “Emily says that the lines of power running through this town are what we’ve been looking for for a hundred years. This place is meant to be our home and I’m not going to leave.”
“The risk is too great. We should have never allowed this many of us here. The population of humans is not large enough to sustain us without suspicion.”
“You and I, your Annabelle, and Harper are safe. We walk in the day and no one suspects us. We’ll sacrifice the others if it comes to it. Just a little longer, Pearl. I’ll convince Stefan to marry me and we can add the Salvatore land to what we’ve already bought. Emily will perform the spell and this town will belong to us. We will be safe; I swear to you.”
“You never listen to anyone, Katherine. It’s going to be your downfall.” Pearl pulls her hands out of Katherine’s grasp and stands. “A few more days, a week at the most, and I’m sending the others away. Stop playing games and do your part; or everything we’ve worked for will be destroyed.”
“I thought you’d be happy. Isn’t this what you wanted?”
“I am. It is.”
“Then why, dearest Stefan, are you standing in a dark room staring out the window at the night? I could feel you brooding from Damon’s room.” Katherine steps behind him, wrapping her arms around him.
He stiffens in her arms and sighs. He’s learned that he can no more hide his feelings from her than he can grow wings and fly. “Because you were in Damon’s room and I was here.” The ‘alone’ goes unspoken, but Katherine hears it regardless.
“How many times must I tell you,” she sighs, “that you don’t have to be alone. You can be with us.”
Stefan steps out of the circle of her arms and turns to look at her. “But I can’t. I don’t want to.”
“You’re lying.”
He shakes his head. “I’m not. I don’t mind this” -- he gestures widely with both hands -- “arrangement, where he and I both have you. Yet it seems more like he has you, and I am left with nothing but scraps.”
Katherine laughs, but it peters out awkwardly. “You’re lying to yourself, Stefan,” she says, voice deepening with seduction. “I can see what you try to hide. What you truly want.”
Stefan tightens both hands into fists. “No.”
“Yes,” Katherine hisses. “Oh, yes you are. I’m through playing your little game of denial, Stefan.” She grabs his chin and tilts his head to look him in the eye. Her pupils dilate and Stefan is helpless to pull away and stop her from compelling him. It feels like cold rushing through him, rearranging his insides. “Quit lying and admit your feelings to yourself if no one else, Stefan.”
Stefan sags when she releases him and stumbles across the room to sit on his bed. He shakes his head at her, slumping with dejection. “It’s wrong Katherine. Unnatural.”
“And your point is?” Katherine hoists up her skirts and climbs onto the bed, straddling Stefan. “No rules, Stefan. I don’t believe in them and neither should you.”
“How can it even work?”
“I’m sure you can figure it out for yourself.” Her talented hands deftly unfasten his pants; he lifts up so she can shove the fabric down past his hips. Not all that dejected, then, or that unwilling to face his feelings, if the hardness reaching up to her is any indication. “And if you can’t,” she continues, “I assure you Damon is not inexperienced in the matter.”
A hot surge of jealousy floods through him, taking away his breath as surely as the sudden molten clench of Katherine’s cunt around his cock, sliding up and down, rocking into him fast enough to rattle the bed.
“Feel how wet I am?” she whispers against his mouth between tiny nibbling kisses. “That’s your brother’s seed.” Stefan gasps and bites his lips to stave off his orgasm. “He loves to come inside me and eat it all out; it’s quite the fetish for him.” Stefan tilts his head to the side giving Katherine access to his neck, fucking her harder and harder with each word. “Every morning, when I leave your bed and I slide into his, I straddle his head and rub myself all over his face and he licks up every drop as it slides out. He fucks me with his tongue and sucks out every remnant of you and I that he can.”
Katherine calls out Stefan’s name as she comes around him, then sinks her fangs into his neck. She fucks him faster and harder, lapping at the blood that trails down his throat. His hands yank at her hair, jerking her head back when he floods inside her; his brother’s name a silent whisper on his lips. Katherine cuts her tongue with her fangs and kisses Stefan, clandestinely feeding him her blood.
They lie sandwiched together until his heart rate slows to normal and he starts drifting toward sleep. When she pulls away, however, his hand snakes out to grab her wrist. “Stay here with me.”
“I can’t.” Katherine straightens her clothing and uses a cloth from the washstand to clean herself up. “I promised Damon I’d take him hunting.”
“You promised him what?” Shock sends Stefan up abruptly. “You can’t be serious.” Katherine fluffs her hair into a presentable coif and ignores Stefan’s protests. “Haven’t you fed enough? What are you thinking? You know the townspeople are getting suspicious.”
She kisses him softly, smiling with a fondness that belies what they were doing -- and talking about -- moments before. “Damon says he wants to be turned Stefan, and I’m taking him hunting so he can see what he’s in for. Don’t worry, I’ll keep him safe.” She pats him on the cheek before heading for the door. “I promise I’ll come to your bed in the morning and give you a taste of Damon’s favorite delicacy if you want it.”
“Katherine, don’t! It’s too dangerous.”
She shuts the door behind her, leaving a frustrated and frightened Stefan behind.
“What the hell were you thinking?” Stefan says as he storms into the room, slamming the door closed behind him. “You know how suspicious the town is becoming, how could you risk yourselves like that?”
Damon rolls his eyes and tucks both hands behind his head as he lies on the bed, ankles crossed and feet bare.
“Did she compel you? Is she making you drink her blood?” Stefan paces between Damon’s bedroom door and his bed. “Damon, you can’t want to become a vampire.”
“She’s not compelling me, I love the taste of her blood, and I absolutely without a doubt want to be a vampire.”
“That means you’ll die, Damon; you can’t want that.”
“Don’t tell me what I can and can’t want, Stefan, not when you can’t admit your own desires to yourself.”
Stefan stops midstride toward the door and spins around to face Damon. “Don’t you dare turn this around on me. You wanting to die and become a vampire is not even in the same league as me refusing to have an incestuous affair with my own brother!”
Damon doesn’t seem impressed that Stefan finally gives voice to the words. “What’s so wrong with me wanting to be a vampire? You don’t have any problem with our girlfriend being one.”
“When she gets tired of us, she’s going to leave. Move on to the next town, Damon. You know she will.”
Damon sits up, all trace of careless insouciance disappearing from his posture. “She’s not going to get tired of me, Stefan. She loves me. When she moves on, I’ll be with her. I’ll be like her. You, dear brother, will stay here and be the good little boy Father always wanted you to be.”
Stefan kicks one of the posters of Damon’s bed. “I don’t want you to leave!”
“Why not? Because you love me and I’m your brother? Because you harbor some secret, incestuous desire for me?” Damon stands and grabs Stefan by the arms, shaking him. “Or is it, brother, because you’re jealous that Katherine loves me enough to turn me and not you?” He pulls Stefan closer, until their knees are knocking against each other. “Come on, Stefan. Give me one good reason.”
Stefan responds by grabbing Damon’s shoulders, hands clenched, fingers digging into his flesh. “Because,” he pants, searching Damon’s face for some reaction, some clue to how his words are received, “you’re my brother and I can’t live without you. Don’t you know that every minute you were gone I was in agony? You’re my best friend, Damon. I love you more than anyone or anything in this world. I couldn’t stand my life without you in it.”
Damon releases his hold in favor of a hug. A breath, two, and Stefan’s arms come up to return it, turning his face to the crook of his brother’s neck. The scent -- muggy summer days working under the sun, playing on the river -- is as familiar as the back of his own hand. “I will never completely leave you Stefan; I will always come back for you.”
To that, Stefan makes a small noise. He knows that Katherine is fickle. And his brother could be more corruptible than Stefan dreamed possible. The combination is dangerous.
“Look at me.” Damon pushes Stefan away, “Stefan, look at me.” Damon cups Stefan’s face in his hands and forces his brother to meet his eyes. “Remember when we were kids, how no one could find you when we played hide and seek? You were hidden for so long it got dark and the whole house turned out to search for you, for hours. Who was it who found you sound asleep in the chicken coop and brought you home?”
“You.”
“That’s right. It was me,” Damon says. “I will always find you. I will always come for you. And Stefan, if I’m a vampire I can protect you from the world. I can look out for you in ways that I can’t now.”
“No. No,” Stefan says, shaking his head. “No, Damon you can’t. People will find out, they’ll come after you, you’ll get killed. The town council--”
“They won’t.” Damon rubs his thumb along Stefan’s cheekbone and rests his forehead against his brother’s. “I swear to you.”
“I’ll come with you.” Stefan wraps his hands around Damon’s wrists, implicit threat and promise both.
“You’ll hate it. You’re not the kind of person who can kill others, Stefan.”
Stefan shakes his head again. Damon isn’t either, for all the war has convinced him otherwise. “Don’t. Please.”
“You can’t change my mind. I’m going to do this.”
“When?”
“As soon as Emily makes a ring for me.”
“Soon, then.” Damon’s shoulders rise in a shrug Stefan can feel in his toes. “This isn’t something you can change your mind about! Once it’s done, there’s no going back.”
“I’m fully aware of that, Stefan.”
“Then how can you be so reckless?”
“Why is it you never can be?”
It isn’t meant as a goad. There’s too much amusement, Stefan knows, and bitter certainty that Stefan would never.
Abruptly, Stefan does. He moves lighting fast, faster than he ever thought possible, to crash his mouth into Damon’s. Shock immobilizes them both momentarily, but Stefan doesn’t let go. He wants this. Katherine’s compulsion didn’t put the desire in him, only made him unable to hide from it. Perhaps, too, it makes him brave enough to stay until Damon begins to melt, opening his mouth so the frantic press of lips becomes a true kiss.
Stefan’s heart pounds as he pours all his fear and frustration, all his desperation into the kiss. Damon seems no less driven, an observation that is only partially reassuring, as he pulls Stefan even closer, until their bodies are flush together, straining to somehow be closer still. Damon’s hands slide down Stefan’s back, fingers digging into muscle hard enough to bruise. When he cups Stefan’s ass and grinds the length of his erection against his brother’s, Stefan groans and pulls away from the kiss.
“I can be reckless, Damon.” Stefan steps back away from Damon and heads for the door. He turns the key in the lock, then tosses it on the dresser in defiance, searching Damon’s face for any indication that this is not what he wants. “I just prefer to be cautious.” Tugging his shirt free of his pants, Stefan takes his time unbuttoning it. Carefully.
Provocatively.
“We have matching bites,” Damon says, discarding his own shirt as he eyes the darkened, torn skin above Stefan’s heart.
“I know. I saw yours the other morning.” Stefan traces over the bite on Damon’s chest with his lips. “It took everything I had not to touch it.”
“You should spend less time fighting your instincts.”
“You should spend less time honing yours,” Stefan retorts pulling away. “How does this work?” The first flare of passion had been overwhelming, but now he’s unsure, doesn’t know where to go from here. He isn’t reckless, not really, and he’s uncertain what to do now.
Damon smiles, sharp as Katherine’s teeth. “Don’t worry, Stefan, I’ll show you.” Damon unfastens Stefan’s belt and begins working on the buttons of his trousers.
“Who was it that showed you?”
“It doesn’t matter.”
“It does.” Stefan shivers as Damon ducks his head to brush his lips against the bite on Stefan’s chest.
“Fine, then. Another soldier.”
“Will it hurt?”
“Doesn’t everything worth having, brother?”
When Stefan’s trousers and underwear pool at his feet, he steps out of them and into the circle of Damon’s arms. “I’m going to hate myself in the morning.”
“You won’t. I won’t let you.” Damon drops to his knees and breathes in Stefan’s scent. “Trust me.”
Stefan hisses out a breath at the touch of Damon’s tongue on the head of his cock. “Always.”
Part Two
Fandom: The Vampire Diaries
Rating: NC-17
Pairings/Characters: Damon/Katherine, Stefan/Katherine, Damon/Stefan, Damon/Katherine/Stefan
Warnings/enticements:: Bloodplay, felching, double-penetration
Word Count: ~11,500
Summary: In the Spring of 1864, Katherine Pierce poses as an orphan to gain entry to the Salvatore estate in Southern Virginia. She captivates the household with her beauty and charm. She has everyone under her thumb with one exception, Stefan Salvatore. Determined to seduce him without using compulsion, Katherine decides to use Stefan's only obvious weakness against him—his brother. Pitting the brothers against each other quickly becomes more than a game, turning into full-on obsession as Damon requires no compulsion and little seduction to corrupt his younger brother. As the triangle shifts and the body count rises, no one will remain unscathed.
Disclaimer: All quotes taken from Jill Tracy’s album Diabolical Streak. This original work of fan fiction is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike 3.0 Unported License
Notes: This would not have been possible without my amazing betas
ladycat777 and moosesal thank you so very much. Any remaining mistakes are my own.Art Post: by
cool_rain_kiss hereBonus Content: Music
I want to believe in something
I'm still searching for the truth
I want to believe in something
I've finally found the proof
Jill Tracy, “The Proof”
I'm still searching for the truth
I want to believe in something
I've finally found the proof
Jill Tracy, “The Proof”
May 20, 1864
Dearest Stefan,
I do not know how much longer I will be able to bear this war. Every day I lose another brother. These men could never replace you in my heart, but we share a bond of witnessed atrocities that cannot be underestimated. These burdens I’ve witnessed -- these images and sounds that haunt my dreams and echo endlessly in my heart -- are lightened when shared, and I am grateful to share them with brothers-in-arms who are not you. Every day I thank God that you were too young to join and that Father keeps you safe at home. Imagining you safe and sheltered at home is the only thing that allows me to sleep at night.
I long for the comfort of home; hot water to bathe in, good, filling food on the table, to be away from the constant sounds of men injured and dying, the rumble of canon and rifle fire. To be able to move freely without fear of being shot and killed.
I beg you to turn a deaf ear to the ones who will tell you it is your duty to join. It is your duty to see our family’s slaves freed and provided a living wage if I do not return and the Confederates somehow manage to win. The hypocrisy inherent in killing men to defend the right to own other men is wearing on my soul. Every time I point the barrel of my gun at a man and pull the trigger I feel more and more numb. I fear the hollow empty feeling is a rot that is spreading through my soul.
Surely, there is an honorable way out of this?
There isn’t, of course. There is no honor in killing. No honor in owning men. No honor in desertion. As always, it appears I am destined to be everything I disdain.
My regiment is scheduled for leave soon. I hope that the comforts of home balm my wounds and ease my aching heart.
Until then be well my brother,
Damon
Even though Damon has asked me not to try and intercede on his behalf, I feel that I must. The tone of his latest letter has worried me greatly. Usually, Damon spins tales of campfires and foolishness he partakes in with other troublemaking "Johnny Rebel's". He's never written of anything more serious than the name of the town from which he posts his mail.
I am afraid that a tremendous horror has befallen him; there is no other reason for his letter to be so utterly out of character. Unless. No -- surely, the war has not broken his spirit? I cannot imagine -- nor would I want to -- life without his winsome nature. Damon is the only source of laughter and high spirits in this family; he has always had a biting edge but I cannot imagine him morose and acrimonious.
I shall endeavor to ask Miss Pierce to try to charm him back to his usual self when he arrives on leave. Surely, between the two of us we can cajole him to a better frame of mind.
Excerpt from Stefan Salvatore's journal dated June 30, 1864
July 1, 1864
“I will not.” Giuseppe looks up from his journal and glares at his youngest son. “Do not waste my time asking again.”
“But Father, it’s destroying him. Damon wasn’t meant to be a soldier, he’s not a killer! You know that.” Stefan steps closer to his father’s desk. “I know we can afford to buy him out.”
Giuseppe tosses his quill down, careless of the ink that smears across the wide oak desk. “It’s not about the money, Stefan! It’s about pride. And honor. Our family name will be ruined if we do this. What will the other families think if I buy out my son and theirs are still fighting?”
“Do you really care more for your reputation than you do for your oldest son?”
Giuseppe abruptly stands and pushes away from his desk crossing the room to stare out of the window, back turned to Stefan. Stefan’s hands clench the edge of his Father’s desk and he waits, white knuckled, for his Father to return his attention to him.
The clock on the mantle over the stone fireplace ticks, the only break in the unbearable silence. Stefan counts out the seconds as they turn into minutes, each tick seemingly louder than the one before, with no response from his father.
Stefan resists the urge to sigh, letting his head fall forward instead. It has always been this way between his brother and his father. Neither Damon nor Stefan knows why and neither has ever dared to ask Giuseppe. Stefan yearns for Damon, the weight of his knowing gaze, the quirk of his lips when he smiles, his solid presence by Stefan’s side. Despair fills him, a physical presence churning in his stomach and weighing heavy on his heart. Stefan forces his fingers to relax their grip on the desk and walks to stand beside his father.
The view from his Father’s window is spectacular. Row upon row of tobacco stretches as far as the eye can see to the south. The eastern fields house the grapevines and their arbors, rose bushes dotted among them. Stefan turns his gaze to the western side of the plantation, still heavily forested and filled with game. He can hear the deep bass of the men’s voices chanting as they top the tobacco. The children’s voices floating high and sweet from the wide, shaded porches where they shuck corn and string beans. He can hear but not see the women sing counter melody to the men as they tend the gardens in the northern fields that will keep them all fed during the rapidly approaching winter.
If the men, women, and children laboring under the blistering sun were free, working together for the benefit of all, Stefan cannot imagine anything that he could be more proud of. But as always the sight fills him with shame and revulsion. He cannot believe his father forces his brother to risk his life for this travesty his neighbors call “The Cause.”
Giuseppe exhales loudly, finally breaking the long silence. “Your brother refuses to uphold his responsibilities. He thinks of nothing save his own pleasure and whims. It is time he learned to be a man.”
Stefan stands shoulder to shoulder with his father, the pair of them mirror images from behind. They both clasp their hands behind their backs and do not look at one another, keeping their gazes focused on the fields beyond. “Forcing him to kill for a cause he doesn’t believe in will not teach him responsibility, Father. It will only make him reckless and desperate.”
“Then it’s a good thing I have you to be responsible, isn’t it?” Giuseppe clasps a hand on his shoulder and squeezes tightly. “Why don’t you go and entertain Miss Pierce? Perhaps she will be able to ease your mind. She comes from a good family, Stefan; she would not be a bad match for you.”
Stefan looks askance at his father and steps out of arm’s reach. “Miss Pierce is lovely and spirited to be sure, but until Damon is home safely for good -- not just leave -- I will have no peace.” He strides toward the door, grasps the crystal knob with one hand, and turns back to face his father. “And neither should you.” He gently pulls the door closed behind him and leans heavily against the solid mahogany. He closes his eyes and breathes in and out slowly and deeply, trying to calm himself. Getting angry at his father is as futile as trying to forget his worries with their houseguest.
When he feels he has himself under control he opens his eyes and startles to find Miss Pierce standing in front of him. “I didn’t hear you.”
“No, you didn’t.” She snaps open the pearl-handled fan she carries in the house then flips it closed again and taps it against his chest. “You’re too distracted to notice me at all it seems.” She looks up at him through her eyelashes and purses her lips into a pretty pout.
“Forgive me, Miss Pierce. I am ... concerned about my brother.”
“Dearest Stefan, how many times must I ask you to call me Katherine?” Her arm slides around his, grasping his bicep in her slender hand, she leads him toward the parlor. “Tell me all about your beloved brother’s latest letter. Don’t leave anything out! I do so love to hear our soldier’s accounting of the battles.”
When they reach the front parlor, Katherine’s handmaid is waiting for them with cool glasses of water. When those are dispensed, she stations herself behind them, waving a large, woven fan to combat the heat. “Damon doesn’t write about the battles.”
“No? How strange, I’ve always found men to be eager to speak of war and bloodshed.”
Stefan sips his water and belatedly nods his thanks in Emily’s direction. “Damon doesn’t, no -- we do not believe in this war. He wants to come home, and I want him here.”
“I see.” Katherine tosses her head and smiles in understanding. “And your father disagrees?”
Stefan nods and Katherine taps him on the chest with her fan once again. “Well then, I guess we’ll both have to find a more ... compelling argument for bringing your brother home.”
Stefan can’t help but smile at Miss P-- Katherine’s infectious enthusiasm. “It would have to be most compelling indeed.”
“I’m sure between the two of us we can think of something.” Katherine smiles up at him and winks before bursting into a fit of giggles. “When do you suppose your brother will be home?”
“The letter was dated in May. The mail is so slow and unreliable these days, I suppose he could walk through the door any minute.” Stefan stares into the surface of the water in his glass. “Unless something has happened …”
Katherine takes the glass from his hand and sets it on the side table before taking both of Stefan’s hands in hers and squeezing gently. “Do not speak that way Stefan, I am sure your brother is well and that he is traveling as fast as he can.”
Stefan returns her gesture and meets her steady gaze. “How can you be so confident of his safety? There could be skirmishes, or ambushes. Anything at all could happen. You said yourself that the journey from Atlanta was treacherous and you spent a great deal of time hiding from stragglers.”
“Because my dearest Stefan, I wish to know both you and your brother.” Katherine leans forward to whisper conspiratorially in Stefan’s ear. “And what I want, I always get.”
“Always?” Stefan can’t help but smile at her audacity; it reminds him strongly of Damon’s swagger and bluster.
“Always,” Katherine confirms with a flutter of eyelashes.
“Then I shall rest easier at night.” Stefan kisses the back of both Katherine’s hands. “I hate to leave your charming company, but I have work I must attend to.”
“Please, don’t let me keep you.” Katherine snaps her fan open and flutters it as she watches him walk out the door. After Stefan closes the door behind him Katherine turns to Emily. “Get Pearl. Tell her to send someone who won’t be missed to find Stefan’s precious brother and ensure he arrives home safely and, for god’s sake, quickly. Perhaps a spell wouldn’t be amiss either.”
“Yes, Miss Katherine.”
“Stefan is no fun at all with his mind on Damon all the time.” Katherine pouts. “I’m bored Emily. You know what happens when I get bored.”
“Perhaps you should compel Stefan.”
“No, that would be too easy. I desire a challenge, so I believe I want to do this the old-fashioned way. And besides, I don’t want to interfere with his mind, it is quite Machiavellian.” Katherine leans her head against the back of the settee and closes her eyes with a satisfied smile. “You can’t imagine what sinful thoughts that innocent face hides, Emily. Even I find them quite shocking.”
“I rather doubt that.”
“Yes, well you’d be surprised. Regardless, before the end of the year I will be married to one Salvatore or the other and then I will run this house and we -- all of us -- will run this town.” Katherine opens her eyes and studies her nails. “Now, bring me someone to eat. I’m hungry.”
I was fully aware that Katherine and Pearl had plans to make Fells Church their home when I led them here. Katherine wanted to find land that had natural power. A land rich with ley lines, pleasing to the eye, and easily defendable. It took years to find the perfect location. I just never imagined she would create so many others like her along the way. Or that they would all converge on the same small community and believe they would not attract attention. I know the town's people are frightened and trying desperately to find a way to save themselves from the "demons" that come out at night. I have heard that Jonathan Gilbert is trying to create devices to help hunt and destroy the vampires. I must find a way to spell these devices so that they work and not arouse Katherine's suspicions while I am at it.
Excerpt from Emily Bennett's Grimoire
Baby mind the vultures
They're circling round the bone
Feeding from the idols
They think they can draw blood from a stone
The more the diamond glitters
The more it can deceive
The truth lay in the treasure
Of what we disbelieve
Jill Tracy, “Pulling Your Insides Out”
July 17, 1864
They're circling round the bone
Feeding from the idols
They think they can draw blood from a stone
The more the diamond glitters
The more it can deceive
The truth lay in the treasure
Of what we disbelieve
Jill Tracy, “Pulling Your Insides Out”
July 17, 1864
“This wasn’t how I pictured my homecoming,” Damon says as he collapses onto the grass gasping for breath from the impromptu game of tag.
“No?” Stefan asks, breathing hard as he flops down beside him. A quick roll onto his side allows him to lean up on his elbow, gazing at his brother.
“Tell me, Mr. Salvatore, how is this different from how you imagined it?” Katherine gathers her skirts together and sits between the brothers.
Damon pulls the woolen Confederate cap off of his head and tosses it aside. “I was positive the first person I saw would be Becky and she would yell at me to get out of my filthy uniform. She’d chase me to the bath and pour scalding water over me and coat me in lye soap from head to toe while she ranted and raved about lice and how skinny I am and clucked her tongue over my scars.”
“Scars?” Stefan sits up and peers at Damon as though he can see through his uniform to the damaged skin beneath.
“Yes, scars dearest brother. They’re quite dashing I assure you.” Damon returns his gaze to Katherine and reaches for her closest hand and kisses the back of it. “Then I’d get dressed and join Stefan and Father in the parlor. You would hug me and be glad that I was home safe and sound, and Father would be quietly disappointed that his feckless son had not yet died honorably in battle.”
“Damon,” Stefan quietly interjects.
“Don’t ‘Damon’ me Stefan, you know it’s true.” Damon shrugs out of his uniform jacket and lies back on the grass, propping up on his elbow, body turned toward Katherine and Stefan. “Instead, Becky hasn’t caught sight of me yet, Father is absent, and we’re entertaining the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen. This is definitely better than anticipated.” He smiles at both of them. “Where is Father? Please tell me I can delay seeing him for some time?”
“He’s at a Council meeting,” Stefan replies, unable to tear his hungry gaze away from his brother. He’s riveted by the minor differences in his appearance -- the leanness of his face, how he favors his left side, the sardonic bitterness to his smile that he’s never seen before. It’s as though his brother has changed in some fundamental way that he cannot begin to grasp.
“Boring,” Damon replies and leaps to his feet. “Do you know what wouldn’t be boring? A swim.” He struggles out of his shoes and pulls his shirt over head before tossing it carelessly on the ground. He heads toward the creek and calls over his shoulder, “Anyone want to join?”
“I’d love to,” Katherine calls out. “Unfortunately, I’m afraid it would scandalize your brother.” She giggles and nudges Stefan. “Go on, you know you want to.”
“Are you sure you’ll be all right?” Stefan asks, eyes still trained on his brother. He knows it isn’t proper to stare in this manner but it’s Damon -- home and exactly the same and yet completely different. He must find this thing that is different and learn it so that no part of his brother will be unfamiliar to him.
“Quite sure,” she affirms. “I’ll be right here when you’re done. Go on now, Stefan. Shoo!” Permission so granted, Stefan clambers to his feet and races off to join Damon.
Katherine watches them as they go. Her sensitive hearing makes it easy to listen long after they’re out of sight. The splashes and happy shouts of two brothers enjoying each other’s company.
They’re both so very easy to read. Neither has any idea at all how to hide their surface thoughts even from a distance. There’s a thread of something not unlike desire running through Stefan. Greedy possessiveness is most likely a better way to define it, but with the right influence it could be turned into something more. Damon for all the appearance of nothing but carefree capriciousness is full of vindictiveness and a lusty hunger that Katherine has rarely seen in a human.
Katherine allows a sweet, high peal of laughter to escape her throat as she listens to the brothers splashing away. Schemes within schemes spin through her mind. Playing one brother against the other has appeal. Drawing them both to her bed, perhaps, one at a time. Drive them mad with jealousy before she allows them to know that it is both of them together that she truly wants -- oh, yes. Katherine lets her fangs drops and runs her tongue over them, secure in the knowledge that no one can see her. That plan has a great deal of appeal.
She could keep them forever.
But more likely only until she’s bored.
It's quite an elaborate scheme
The fine art of poisoning
The dose to comatose
Slyly administered
Not for the frail of heart
The vengeful must play their part
A friend to the bitter end
Or so they say
Jill Tracy, “The Fine Art of Poisoning”
August 18, 1864
The fine art of poisoning
The dose to comatose
Slyly administered
Not for the frail of heart
The vengeful must play their part
A friend to the bitter end
Or so they say
Jill Tracy, “The Fine Art of Poisoning”
August 18, 1864
“Did you enjoy your evening with my brother?”
It’s possible that if she were human Damon could have snuck up behind her and startled her. Fortunately, she is far from human; she can, however, play the part. She jumps a little and spins to face him, hands clasped to her chest, always playing the innocent for them. “Damon! You scared me.”
“I doubt that.” He steps closer to her, slowly but surely backing her toward the wall. “Did you enjoy dancing with him? I’m sure you did. After all, I taught him everything he knows about dancing, flirting, and the best way to take liberties at a ball. Did he hold you closer to him than society deems polite? I know he took all the waltzes for himself and filled your dance card so that no one else could get close to you. Tell me, Miss Pierce what other small indiscretions Stefan took that I was unable to see.”
“Damon, please.” Katherine pitches her voice high and scared. Damon cups her breasts softly, barely a whisper of touch over the silk of her evening gown, delicately rubbing his thumbs over her nipples. It tickles. She despises being tickled. She resists the urge to grab him by the throat and slam him into the wall. Barely. “You’re frightening me.”
“No, I’m not.” She’s backed flush against the wall now. Damon presses his body against hers and drags his hands from her breasts, digging his fingers into her flesh, tugging her porcelain skin with his nails across her sternum, along the sides of her throat. Katherine forces down an approving hum for the rougher treatment. Finally he places a hand on either side of her head and leans in close enough that she can feel his breath ghosting against her lips. “Unlike Stefan and my father, I’m not naïve to the realities of life. I’ve been in war. I’ve killed. I’ve pillaged. I’ve gladly taken the camp followers -- and anyone else who offered themselves to me. I’ve watched the dead be eaten by scavenging animals. And I’ve seen what comes out at night to ravage the sick, the injured, and the unsuspecting.”
He leans in even closer and traces her bottom lip with his tongue. “I’m not stupid. I know what you are. I’ve seen the bites on the slaves, I know what it means.”
“If you know so much --” In a fraction of a second Katherine reverses their positions, slamming him against the wall and cutting off his airflow with one deceptively small, delicate hand. “Then you know better than to think you can hurt me.”
Damon gasps for breath. Despite that, he still tries to pull her flush against him. Katherine obliges him by stepping closer, humming a little as he thrusts his hips against her. She loosens her grip around his throat when she feels the length of his erection slide over the layers of clothes between them. He opens his mouth and tries to speak but he can’t get enough air to form the words. Katherine releases his neck and drags her nails down the center of his body, nearly cutting through the cotton fabric of his shirt.
Damon coughs raggedly, struggling to get air into his lungs. When he finally catches his breath, he frames her face with both hands and studies her. “I want you and you want me. My leave will be over soon and I don’t want to waste any more time playing these ridiculous coquettish games. I know what you are and I don’t care. ”
“Tell me, then. What am I?” Katherine has him in her grasp now. The heat of his flesh is hot enough to be felt through his trousers. He’s hard and throbbing, hips canting toward her, trying futilely to push further into her grip.
“You’re a vampire.”
“And you’re not afraid.” She squeezes him then. A small smile plays along the corner of her mouth as he groans. “Are you suicidal or merely stupid?”
“I’d rather die by your fangs in my throat than a bullet.” He thrusts against her palm again, blue eyes glittering at her in the darkness of the hallway, not five feet from his father’s door. “I’m not afraid of you, Katherine. If you wanted us dead we would be by now.”
“You’re not wrong.” Katherine lets her fangs drop, feels the veins unfold as they spider web around her eyes. Damon tilts his head to the side, instinctively inviting her bite. She grasps his shirt and rips it open, heedless of the buttons as they fly off and ping along the wooden floor then roll away. She sinks her teeth into his chest, right above his heart. He gasps aloud, head banging back against the wall, unable to stop himself from coming in his pants as she drinks him down.
Damon toys with a lock of her hair as she licks the bite, teasing out every last drop of blood. Perhaps his claim of understanding is true then. When she pulls away and looks up at him he’s smirking at her. “Shall we take this to my bed or yours?”
Katherine steps back, takes him by the hand, and drags him down the hall. “Yours. I despise sleeping on sheets covered in bodily fluids.”
Damon jerks awake and sits upright in bed, uncertain as to what awakened him. The sheets pool around his thighs and he can’t help but run his fingers over the bite marks and scratches littering his torso before he pulls the covers up to his waist. He looks around the dark room to find Katherine completely naked standing at his bedroom window watching the sky lighten slowly before true sunrise. She is without a doubt the most glorious sight he’s ever seen. One he wants to wake to every morning for as long as he can.
Kicking the sheets aside, he crosses the room to stand behind her. He caresses her shoulders and glides his fingertips down her arms to capture her hands in his. He smiles as she leans into the warmth of his body. He dips his knees as she spreads her legs wide enough for him to slip inside of her. Her head falls back against his chest and he revels in her breathy rumbles as he slowly drags one hand along her hip to her bush of curly dark hair, fingers seeking the bundle of nerves that make her knees weaken.
His thrusts gather speed until he is fucking her as hard as he can. He pushes her against the window for leverage, shifting to the balls of his feet to change the angle slightly. He knows her breasts are pressed against the window, exposed to anyone in the yard. The idea of someone, anyone (Stefan), seeing makes his rhythm falter, a bolt of heat pushing him over the edge. He hisses as she clenches around him, coming hard. Her breath hitches in her throat as he does. She’s not quite there. Just needs a little bit more. Eager, she knocks his hand away from her clitoris, and replaces it with her own.
“Let me,” he says, pulling her hand away. He drops to his knees and turns her around in one fluid motion, holding her against the window and lifting one leg over his shoulder so he can rub his forehead along the wiry hair at the apex of her thighs. He breathes in her scent and licks slowly along her center.
“Damn it, Damon, hurry up.” Katherine is breathless, hungry -- always hungry -- for more.
He sucks her clit and pulls away, puffing a breath of air across it. “Huh-uh.” His tongue traces her folds before dipping inside of her. “Want to taste me in you.” He feels her fingernails dig into his shoulders and thrusts his tongue deeper inside of her, swirling it around and sucking as his tongue slides out. Damon smacks his lips together. “Delicious.” Using both hands, he spreads Katherine wide. She’s still pressed up against the glass and though only her delicate shoulders and long, dark hair will be visible, anyone who glances up will still know exactly what is happening. Damon’s body responds to that, even if he needs time before becoming hard once more, alternating sucks with nibbling at her clit, then fucking her with his tongue until his own bitter flavor is gone and only her honeyed tang remains.
Desperate by now, she grinds against his face as he slides three fingers inside, crooking them just so, rubbing the pads of his fingers in circles. Katherine comes hard, gasping out his name. Damon replaces his fingers with his tongue and licks into her as he eases her down. Eventually, she pushes him away and slides down to her knees beside him. They share laughter along with kisses, the hard length of his cock presses at the juncture of her thighs once again. She pushes him down onto his back and straddles him, slowly lowering herself down until she’s flush against him. Damon groans as she begins slow, lazy figure eights.
“The one thing I don’t understand is how you’re able to walk in the sunlight.” His hands clasp her hips tightly, urging her to move faster but she resists.
“The one thing I don’t understand is how you’re still talking instead of breathless from fucking me.” She arches an eyebrow and giggles as he surges up and flips them over, hooking her legs over his arms, pressing them back toward her chest.
“I’ll show you breathless,” he pants out, pushing her legs even further back as he leans forward and kisses her. Her fangs drop and she bites his lip, coming as his sweet blood floods her mouth. The pain makes him thrust even harder, rough as he pours himself into her. He collapses on top of her and smiles beatifically as Katherine pierces her own finger with a fang, using her blood to heal the bite on his mouth that he won’t be able to hide. He sucks the blood and shivers as he feels it hit his system, potent enough to cause him to harden again already.
Katherine strokes him idly as they lie on the floor and the dawn breeze wafts across their sweaty bodies. She rests her head against Damon’s chest, occasionally re-biting and sucking at the mark she left over his heart. “Tell me what you want.”
“Want from what?”
“From life.”
He’s quiet for a moment, playing with a lock of her hair, winding it around and around his fingers before letting the curl fall and starting all over again. “I want out of the army. I want away from this place, away from my father. I want to spend my life making love to you and making you laugh.”
Katherine smiles against his chest and sighs contentedly. “What about Stefan?”
“What about him?”
“Wouldn’t you miss him? Wouldn’t it be better if we were all together?”
“Better for whom?” Damon chuckles under his breath. “You?”
Katherine closes her eyes as she releases his cock and trails her fingertips down Damon’s side. “Well, I am the only one who matters.”
“I suppose the three of us could be fun for awhile. But Stefan has always talked about family and children, the plans he has for the plantation. He’s far too serious to dedicate his life to fun.”
“I’m sure he could be persuaded.”
“Katherine, you could persuade a snake to grow legs and walk even without your powers of compulsion, but a ménage a trois with anyone, much less his big brother, is the last thing our young and innocent Stefan would ever want.”
Katherine sits up and looks at Damon. “You’re so sure?” Katherine cocks an eyebrow at him.
“I am.”
“You know nothing of his deepest thoughts, but I can hear them. Sometimes I can even see them, Damon. You’d be surprised by Stefan’s true desires.” She leans over and brushes a kiss on the corner of his mouth. “Not to mention, I can manipulate him into doing whatever I want.”
“You’re the one who said you didn’t want to compel him.” Damon rolls over onto his side and leans forward capturing Katherine’s nipple with his teeth. He bites gently and eases Katherine back down to the floor.
“Maybe I changed my mind.” She pouts when Damon releases her nipple only to smile as he turns his attentions to her other breast. “I am entitled to do that you know.” He hums agreement against her flesh and nibbles underneath her breast. “And his feelings for you … they’re deeper, more complex than you can imagine.” She captures his lips with hers, tongues dancing in a deep, dirty kiss. “Not unlike yours for him.”
Damon pulls away from her and meets her gaze squarely. “I want to be with you, Katherine. I want to be like you. If you want to bring Stefan into this for a while, I’m more than willing. I am not unversed in the pleasures men can find in one another -- nor am I blind to his beauty.” One hand slides along the curve of her hip and drags through the slick of her cunt. She’s fucked open, wet as a river stream and eager for more. “You know he’s too much like Father to want to be like you.” He thumbs her clit and slides two fingers inside of her. “He’s enough like me to want you anyway he can get you, but I don’t think he’ll agree to share you.”
Katherine’s breath hitches when Damon replaces his fingers with his cock in one smooth thrust. She laughs softly, saying, “We’ll see about that.”
I hear the creaks in the floorboards
A firmament above
I can chart the course of your star
Like a dirty hand in glove
And I'm lurking in the holes
Creeping cross the corners
Cuddle up so soft and safe
Close your eyes and calculate
Jill Tracy, “Diabolical Streak”
September 13, 1864
A firmament above
I can chart the course of your star
Like a dirty hand in glove
And I'm lurking in the holes
Creeping cross the corners
Cuddle up so soft and safe
Close your eyes and calculate
Jill Tracy, “Diabolical Streak”
September 13, 1864
“Damon!” Stefan bursts into his brother’s room to find Damon shirtless and lying face down on his bed. That stops Stefan in his tracks, mesmerized by the rise and fall of Damon’s shoulders as he breathes. Sunlight streams through the window limning Damon’s muscles and casting an ethereal glow so beautiful that Stefan cannot tear his eyes away. Damon makes a small noise and rolls onto his side. Stefan drinks in the sight, searching for the scars Damon has mentioned that he has yet to see. His gaze travels slowly along the planes of muscle, he sees no scars, only … he steps closer unsure of what he’s seeing. Bite marks, it seems like. There are bite marks scattered all over Damon’s chest.
Bites that he would bet his life match the ones on his own body.
He unconsciously rubs the healing bite directly over his own heart. Crossing the room, he sits beside the still sleeping Damon and traces with gaze along what he’s certain are the outlines of Katherine’s teeth on his brother’s chest. He’s surprised to find he feels no anger, only a strange sense of jealousy that Katherine has known his brother in a way that he has not. Even more strangely, a desire to touch the marks himself.
Stefan shakes his head to clear his thoughts and nudges Damon. “Damon, wake up!”
Damon’s eyes fly open, his hands coming up in a defensive posture before he comes fully awake and realizes who has roused him. “Stefan, what is it?” Damon sits up and reaches for his shirt, sliding his arms into the sleeves but leaving it unbuttoned. “Has something happened to Katherine?”
“No, she’s fine,” Stefan reassures him. He hands Damon an envelope. “Open it.”
The letter is addressed to Damon. It has clearly already been opened and read. “Your utter lack of personal boundaries is showing again, brother.” Damon slides the parchment out of the envelope and reads through it quickly, then once again more slowly. His hands tremble and he swallows thickly. “Is this real?”
“Yes, it is absolutely real.”
“I can’t believe it. How did this happen?”
Stefan looks pointedly at the bite framed by Damon’s open shirt. “I think you know.”
Damon glances down at the bite and back up at Stefan. “I didn’t realize you knew.”
Stefan smiles shyly at Damon and shrugs his shoulders. “Katherine obviously compelled Father to buy out your commission. You’re finally free, Damon.” He stands from the bed and holds out his hand to Damon. “Let’s tell Katherine together. We can celebrate.”
Damon takes his hand and lets Stefan pull him to his feet and into a hard and lingering hug.
I pray every night that it is not true. I raised my sons -- both of them -- better than to fall in league with Demons. And yet there can be no other explanation for Damon's release from his obligations. It is my signature on the letter, the funds were drawn from my bank. I have no recollection of doing these things; therefore, it must be true that one of these creatures is living under my roof, seducing my son or, God forbid, both of my sons. I cannot believe that I could have been so blind.
Jonathan says his device will be ready soon. I will delay action until I have absolute proof.
Excerpt from Giuseppe Salvatore's journal dated September 13, 1864
“The townspeople know, Katherine. Frederick fed from a slave filled with vervain last night and has yet to recover. We cannot stay here any longer.”
“Send the others on then, Pearl. I’m not leaving here and neither should you. We’ve bought too much land to lose it now.” Katherine takes her friend’s hands in her own. “Emily says that the lines of power running through this town are what we’ve been looking for for a hundred years. This place is meant to be our home and I’m not going to leave.”
“The risk is too great. We should have never allowed this many of us here. The population of humans is not large enough to sustain us without suspicion.”
“You and I, your Annabelle, and Harper are safe. We walk in the day and no one suspects us. We’ll sacrifice the others if it comes to it. Just a little longer, Pearl. I’ll convince Stefan to marry me and we can add the Salvatore land to what we’ve already bought. Emily will perform the spell and this town will belong to us. We will be safe; I swear to you.”
“You never listen to anyone, Katherine. It’s going to be your downfall.” Pearl pulls her hands out of Katherine’s grasp and stands. “A few more days, a week at the most, and I’m sending the others away. Stop playing games and do your part; or everything we’ve worked for will be destroyed.”
You're open to interpretation
Like the trap door underneath your tousled throne
And I'm engaged and I'm enraged and I'm enchanted
With this little bit of magic I've been shown
I've searched the holy books and I've dog-eared every page
I've stolen secrets from a sorcerer's own sage
Although a connoisseur of fine legerdemain
I've just one word for you
Extraordinary
Jill Tracy, “Extraordinary"
September 15, 1864
Like the trap door underneath your tousled throne
And I'm engaged and I'm enraged and I'm enchanted
With this little bit of magic I've been shown
I've searched the holy books and I've dog-eared every page
I've stolen secrets from a sorcerer's own sage
Although a connoisseur of fine legerdemain
I've just one word for you
Extraordinary
Jill Tracy, “Extraordinary"
September 15, 1864
“I thought you’d be happy. Isn’t this what you wanted?”
“I am. It is.”
“Then why, dearest Stefan, are you standing in a dark room staring out the window at the night? I could feel you brooding from Damon’s room.” Katherine steps behind him, wrapping her arms around him.
He stiffens in her arms and sighs. He’s learned that he can no more hide his feelings from her than he can grow wings and fly. “Because you were in Damon’s room and I was here.” The ‘alone’ goes unspoken, but Katherine hears it regardless.
“How many times must I tell you,” she sighs, “that you don’t have to be alone. You can be with us.”
Stefan steps out of the circle of her arms and turns to look at her. “But I can’t. I don’t want to.”
“You’re lying.”
He shakes his head. “I’m not. I don’t mind this” -- he gestures widely with both hands -- “arrangement, where he and I both have you. Yet it seems more like he has you, and I am left with nothing but scraps.”
Katherine laughs, but it peters out awkwardly. “You’re lying to yourself, Stefan,” she says, voice deepening with seduction. “I can see what you try to hide. What you truly want.”
Stefan tightens both hands into fists. “No.”
“Yes,” Katherine hisses. “Oh, yes you are. I’m through playing your little game of denial, Stefan.” She grabs his chin and tilts his head to look him in the eye. Her pupils dilate and Stefan is helpless to pull away and stop her from compelling him. It feels like cold rushing through him, rearranging his insides. “Quit lying and admit your feelings to yourself if no one else, Stefan.”
Stefan sags when she releases him and stumbles across the room to sit on his bed. He shakes his head at her, slumping with dejection. “It’s wrong Katherine. Unnatural.”
“And your point is?” Katherine hoists up her skirts and climbs onto the bed, straddling Stefan. “No rules, Stefan. I don’t believe in them and neither should you.”
“How can it even work?”
“I’m sure you can figure it out for yourself.” Her talented hands deftly unfasten his pants; he lifts up so she can shove the fabric down past his hips. Not all that dejected, then, or that unwilling to face his feelings, if the hardness reaching up to her is any indication. “And if you can’t,” she continues, “I assure you Damon is not inexperienced in the matter.”
A hot surge of jealousy floods through him, taking away his breath as surely as the sudden molten clench of Katherine’s cunt around his cock, sliding up and down, rocking into him fast enough to rattle the bed.
“Feel how wet I am?” she whispers against his mouth between tiny nibbling kisses. “That’s your brother’s seed.” Stefan gasps and bites his lips to stave off his orgasm. “He loves to come inside me and eat it all out; it’s quite the fetish for him.” Stefan tilts his head to the side giving Katherine access to his neck, fucking her harder and harder with each word. “Every morning, when I leave your bed and I slide into his, I straddle his head and rub myself all over his face and he licks up every drop as it slides out. He fucks me with his tongue and sucks out every remnant of you and I that he can.”
Katherine calls out Stefan’s name as she comes around him, then sinks her fangs into his neck. She fucks him faster and harder, lapping at the blood that trails down his throat. His hands yank at her hair, jerking her head back when he floods inside her; his brother’s name a silent whisper on his lips. Katherine cuts her tongue with her fangs and kisses Stefan, clandestinely feeding him her blood.
They lie sandwiched together until his heart rate slows to normal and he starts drifting toward sleep. When she pulls away, however, his hand snakes out to grab her wrist. “Stay here with me.”
“I can’t.” Katherine straightens her clothing and uses a cloth from the washstand to clean herself up. “I promised Damon I’d take him hunting.”
“You promised him what?” Shock sends Stefan up abruptly. “You can’t be serious.” Katherine fluffs her hair into a presentable coif and ignores Stefan’s protests. “Haven’t you fed enough? What are you thinking? You know the townspeople are getting suspicious.”
She kisses him softly, smiling with a fondness that belies what they were doing -- and talking about -- moments before. “Damon says he wants to be turned Stefan, and I’m taking him hunting so he can see what he’s in for. Don’t worry, I’ll keep him safe.” She pats him on the cheek before heading for the door. “I promise I’ll come to your bed in the morning and give you a taste of Damon’s favorite delicacy if you want it.”
“Katherine, don’t! It’s too dangerous.”
She shuts the door behind her, leaving a frustrated and frightened Stefan behind.
Oh my dear, you runneth over
With your cup of convoluted wares
The Aftermath is sinking lower
The perfect pales beyond compare
Your garden's rushing to my head now
Your guise will leave no stone unturned
I'm paralyzed by your concoction
Your sleight of hand keeps all my fingers burned
Jill Tracy, “Extraordinary”
September 16, 1864
With your cup of convoluted wares
The Aftermath is sinking lower
The perfect pales beyond compare
Your garden's rushing to my head now
Your guise will leave no stone unturned
I'm paralyzed by your concoction
Your sleight of hand keeps all my fingers burned
Jill Tracy, “Extraordinary”
September 16, 1864
“What the hell were you thinking?” Stefan says as he storms into the room, slamming the door closed behind him. “You know how suspicious the town is becoming, how could you risk yourselves like that?”
Damon rolls his eyes and tucks both hands behind his head as he lies on the bed, ankles crossed and feet bare.
“Did she compel you? Is she making you drink her blood?” Stefan paces between Damon’s bedroom door and his bed. “Damon, you can’t want to become a vampire.”
“She’s not compelling me, I love the taste of her blood, and I absolutely without a doubt want to be a vampire.”
“That means you’ll die, Damon; you can’t want that.”
“Don’t tell me what I can and can’t want, Stefan, not when you can’t admit your own desires to yourself.”
Stefan stops midstride toward the door and spins around to face Damon. “Don’t you dare turn this around on me. You wanting to die and become a vampire is not even in the same league as me refusing to have an incestuous affair with my own brother!”
Damon doesn’t seem impressed that Stefan finally gives voice to the words. “What’s so wrong with me wanting to be a vampire? You don’t have any problem with our girlfriend being one.”
“When she gets tired of us, she’s going to leave. Move on to the next town, Damon. You know she will.”
Damon sits up, all trace of careless insouciance disappearing from his posture. “She’s not going to get tired of me, Stefan. She loves me. When she moves on, I’ll be with her. I’ll be like her. You, dear brother, will stay here and be the good little boy Father always wanted you to be.”
Stefan kicks one of the posters of Damon’s bed. “I don’t want you to leave!”
“Why not? Because you love me and I’m your brother? Because you harbor some secret, incestuous desire for me?” Damon stands and grabs Stefan by the arms, shaking him. “Or is it, brother, because you’re jealous that Katherine loves me enough to turn me and not you?” He pulls Stefan closer, until their knees are knocking against each other. “Come on, Stefan. Give me one good reason.”
Stefan responds by grabbing Damon’s shoulders, hands clenched, fingers digging into his flesh. “Because,” he pants, searching Damon’s face for some reaction, some clue to how his words are received, “you’re my brother and I can’t live without you. Don’t you know that every minute you were gone I was in agony? You’re my best friend, Damon. I love you more than anyone or anything in this world. I couldn’t stand my life without you in it.”
Damon releases his hold in favor of a hug. A breath, two, and Stefan’s arms come up to return it, turning his face to the crook of his brother’s neck. The scent -- muggy summer days working under the sun, playing on the river -- is as familiar as the back of his own hand. “I will never completely leave you Stefan; I will always come back for you.”
To that, Stefan makes a small noise. He knows that Katherine is fickle. And his brother could be more corruptible than Stefan dreamed possible. The combination is dangerous.
“Look at me.” Damon pushes Stefan away, “Stefan, look at me.” Damon cups Stefan’s face in his hands and forces his brother to meet his eyes. “Remember when we were kids, how no one could find you when we played hide and seek? You were hidden for so long it got dark and the whole house turned out to search for you, for hours. Who was it who found you sound asleep in the chicken coop and brought you home?”
“You.”
“That’s right. It was me,” Damon says. “I will always find you. I will always come for you. And Stefan, if I’m a vampire I can protect you from the world. I can look out for you in ways that I can’t now.”
“No. No,” Stefan says, shaking his head. “No, Damon you can’t. People will find out, they’ll come after you, you’ll get killed. The town council--”
“They won’t.” Damon rubs his thumb along Stefan’s cheekbone and rests his forehead against his brother’s. “I swear to you.”
“I’ll come with you.” Stefan wraps his hands around Damon’s wrists, implicit threat and promise both.
“You’ll hate it. You’re not the kind of person who can kill others, Stefan.”
Stefan shakes his head again. Damon isn’t either, for all the war has convinced him otherwise. “Don’t. Please.”
“You can’t change my mind. I’m going to do this.”
“When?”
“As soon as Emily makes a ring for me.”
“Soon, then.” Damon’s shoulders rise in a shrug Stefan can feel in his toes. “This isn’t something you can change your mind about! Once it’s done, there’s no going back.”
“I’m fully aware of that, Stefan.”
“Then how can you be so reckless?”
“Why is it you never can be?”
It isn’t meant as a goad. There’s too much amusement, Stefan knows, and bitter certainty that Stefan would never.
Abruptly, Stefan does. He moves lighting fast, faster than he ever thought possible, to crash his mouth into Damon’s. Shock immobilizes them both momentarily, but Stefan doesn’t let go. He wants this. Katherine’s compulsion didn’t put the desire in him, only made him unable to hide from it. Perhaps, too, it makes him brave enough to stay until Damon begins to melt, opening his mouth so the frantic press of lips becomes a true kiss.
Stefan’s heart pounds as he pours all his fear and frustration, all his desperation into the kiss. Damon seems no less driven, an observation that is only partially reassuring, as he pulls Stefan even closer, until their bodies are flush together, straining to somehow be closer still. Damon’s hands slide down Stefan’s back, fingers digging into muscle hard enough to bruise. When he cups Stefan’s ass and grinds the length of his erection against his brother’s, Stefan groans and pulls away from the kiss.
“I can be reckless, Damon.” Stefan steps back away from Damon and heads for the door. He turns the key in the lock, then tosses it on the dresser in defiance, searching Damon’s face for any indication that this is not what he wants. “I just prefer to be cautious.” Tugging his shirt free of his pants, Stefan takes his time unbuttoning it. Carefully.
Provocatively.
“We have matching bites,” Damon says, discarding his own shirt as he eyes the darkened, torn skin above Stefan’s heart.
“I know. I saw yours the other morning.” Stefan traces over the bite on Damon’s chest with his lips. “It took everything I had not to touch it.”
“You should spend less time fighting your instincts.”
“You should spend less time honing yours,” Stefan retorts pulling away. “How does this work?” The first flare of passion had been overwhelming, but now he’s unsure, doesn’t know where to go from here. He isn’t reckless, not really, and he’s uncertain what to do now.
Damon smiles, sharp as Katherine’s teeth. “Don’t worry, Stefan, I’ll show you.” Damon unfastens Stefan’s belt and begins working on the buttons of his trousers.
“Who was it that showed you?”
“It doesn’t matter.”
“It does.” Stefan shivers as Damon ducks his head to brush his lips against the bite on Stefan’s chest.
“Fine, then. Another soldier.”
“Will it hurt?”
“Doesn’t everything worth having, brother?”
When Stefan’s trousers and underwear pool at his feet, he steps out of them and into the circle of Damon’s arms. “I’m going to hate myself in the morning.”
“You won’t. I won’t let you.” Damon drops to his knees and breathes in Stefan’s scent. “Trust me.”
Stefan hisses out a breath at the touch of Damon’s tongue on the head of his cock. “Always.”
Part Two
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no subject
Date: 2010-10-17 07:38 pm (UTC)You get at the ways it laid the foundation for his being the Damon we see.
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Date: 2010-10-19 03:31 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-02-03 09:41 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-02-03 09:58 pm (UTC)Was he lying and he had deserted? Maybe - but I took his words at face value.
It's possible it was properly addressed in the books, I don't know as I haven't read them.
no subject
Date: 2011-02-03 10:02 pm (UTC)The 'real' Damon Salvatore created by LJ Smith was never a confederate soldier. He was a human in the 15th century. However, he did drop out of university and was a womanizer, gambler type!
no subject
Date: 2011-02-03 09:58 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-02-03 09:58 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-03-29 12:52 pm (UTC)The way you write all three of these characters is amazing. I think you might be the ONLY author who has incorperated Damon's army time into the story, something that is missing everywhere else. Haven't seen it in other fanfiction, or in the books or much of it in the show.
Your boys are so scarred and lonely. Your Katherine so devious and playfull. The words good job kind of fail...
So a question (two, really) can I rec this story (and link to your masterlist) at my own LJ and at a comm I belong to? I'd really like to do that. I'm doing my first 'mature content/nc-17'-ish recpost soon and this SO needs to be in there.
Of course I won't post anything untill after I hear from you. My previous recs are at my LJ if you'd like to see.
no subject
Date: 2011-03-29 01:51 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-03-29 01:54 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-03-29 01:55 pm (UTC)Done!
Date: 2011-03-29 06:13 pm (UTC)