Fic: ...And The Rest Be Sent To Hell
Title: ...And The Rest Be Sent To Hell
Rating: PG
Fandom: The Vampire Diaries
Pairing: Possible implied Damon/Elena...even though I don't particularly ship them.
A/N: I love Damon. Actually, I liked him a lot more last season, but. Just a bit of a character study involving him, I guess.
Title and cut from "Let's Kill Tonight" by Panic! At The Disco.
Rage. Lust. Guilt. Violence. Love.
He can no longer distinguish one from the others, the wires crossed and twisted somewhere in the depths of his mind. He tells himself he loves her, but he’s not sure he remembers what love is. Every tug at his long-dead heartstrings beneath the static noise of forgetting starts to remind him, but then the bodies go limp, cold in his hands and he knows that a monster is all he’ll ever be. Monsters don’t know love. Monsters don’t deserve love.
The faces start to blur, fade into one another, and a hundred years feels like a thousand, an infinite whirlwind of sex and lies and death. It’s not that he’s forgotten his humanity: he remembers envy, blinding hatred with a disturbing clarity, but the rest- the rest is easier buried beneath a mask of numb, unrelenting thirst.
Still, he can’t deny the guilt that creeps into his mind as he paints the town a sickening red. He can see her disappointment (can you forgive me?), his brother’s pain (what have I done?), their soft gazes burning behind his eyelids, electric blue meeting brown with an honesty he can only face in the most restless of dreams.
It’s an inexorable cycle, the emotions battling the addiction, each struggling to overwhelm him first.
He gives into the nightmare of his existence every time.
Razor teeth drip ruby, trails of blood making their way down his neck, his bare chest as the drained carcass drops unceremoniously to the wood floor. Drowning one vice in another, the glass shatters beside the body, a perfect picture of careless destruction. Choking on his laughter through tears, he licks away the rivulets of red that trickle down his fingers as he watches the body burn, dark hair and dead eyes already fading from his mind. The guilt is fleeting, the anger constant, and he slips behind his mask before he can remember love, turning away from the massacre that’s a reflection of his heart.
Rating: PG
Fandom: The Vampire Diaries
Pairing: Possible implied Damon/Elena...even though I don't particularly ship them.
A/N: I love Damon. Actually, I liked him a lot more last season, but. Just a bit of a character study involving him, I guess.
Title and cut from "Let's Kill Tonight" by Panic! At The Disco.
Rage. Lust. Guilt. Violence. Love.
He can no longer distinguish one from the others, the wires crossed and twisted somewhere in the depths of his mind. He tells himself he loves her, but he’s not sure he remembers what love is. Every tug at his long-dead heartstrings beneath the static noise of forgetting starts to remind him, but then the bodies go limp, cold in his hands and he knows that a monster is all he’ll ever be. Monsters don’t know love. Monsters don’t deserve love.
The faces start to blur, fade into one another, and a hundred years feels like a thousand, an infinite whirlwind of sex and lies and death. It’s not that he’s forgotten his humanity: he remembers envy, blinding hatred with a disturbing clarity, but the rest- the rest is easier buried beneath a mask of numb, unrelenting thirst.
Still, he can’t deny the guilt that creeps into his mind as he paints the town a sickening red. He can see her disappointment (can you forgive me?), his brother’s pain (what have I done?), their soft gazes burning behind his eyelids, electric blue meeting brown with an honesty he can only face in the most restless of dreams.
It’s an inexorable cycle, the emotions battling the addiction, each struggling to overwhelm him first.
He gives into the nightmare of his existence every time.
Razor teeth drip ruby, trails of blood making their way down his neck, his bare chest as the drained carcass drops unceremoniously to the wood floor. Drowning one vice in another, the glass shatters beside the body, a perfect picture of careless destruction. Choking on his laughter through tears, he licks away the rivulets of red that trickle down his fingers as he watches the body burn, dark hair and dead eyes already fading from his mind. The guilt is fleeting, the anger constant, and he slips behind his mask before he can remember love, turning away from the massacre that’s a reflection of his heart.