#bonnie realizing her lipstick leaves a stain

[ladylothlorien]

You, Not Appearing

Fandom/Topic: Unnamed Pedro Pascal characters that I have plucked from obscurity to do my bidding

Rating: Teen-ish? 

Word Count: 1,053

Warnings: angst, unhappy ending, a few spicy memories

A/N: This fic is labeled as “I don’t even know what this is” in my Google docs and I stand by that assessment. Something in my brain connected the Fire Meets Gasoline music video with the Hope video (both links courtesy of @dornish-queen​) and thought what if it was the same character in both videos. Un-beta’d but I agonized over it for a long time. Title is a play on You, Appearing by M83 that plays during the Hope video. Credit to gif owner. Happy Valentine’s Day?

It’s been seven days. He knows because he found a tube of her lipstick in his leather travel bag on the first day and he’s been using it to mark each day on the mirror in the tiny bathroom. If not for these Crimson Rose streaks, each day would be interchangeable. Wake up, pick up the phone, ring ring ring ring ring ring, put down the phone, look outside, open the door, (it’s housekeeping asking with increasing annoyance if they can please clean the room; it’s a family of five barreling down the corridor in a swirl of chaotic activity; it’s a bald man sweating through a cheap suit as he keeps his gaze firmly on the ground; it’s no one at all), close the door, repeat, repeat, repeat, make a mark on the mirror, drink until passing out. 

He tries to fill his time with getting dressed up to varying degrees of outrageousness. If someone asked, he’d shrug and say what’s the point of having such glamorous clothes if you never wear them? If she asked, he’d say he’s trying on different personas for the next con, even though he’s not sure what (or when) (or if) the next con will be. Part of him hopes that when he opens the door, she’ll be standing there and she’ll say something like “what on earth are you wearing?” with an affectionate laugh as she glides into the room, instantly filling it with her bright smile and banishing all of the lonely empty corners. Each time he opens the door, he’s disappointed. And no one asks.

He’s rechecked the phone number what feels like a million times (he hasn’t counted because he doesn’t really want to know), but it just rings and rings until he gives up. He counted the rings on the first day, feeling sure that something must end them other than his replacing the receiver. He stopped counting at fifty and hasn’t counted again. Still, his palms are sweaty each time he presses the buttons and sliding them down his thighs has become a part of the ritual to try to calm his nerves as he tries to hold out for as many rings as possible (it only sort of works). He idly wonders if the motel will bill him even if the calls are never picked up. What he wouldn’t give to go to voicemail.

He never really thinks about it, what he did. Sometimes the hot brick pavement outside the motel check-in brings to mind another brick stained red, but he pushes it away with a terse it was self-defense. He pays no mind to the thoughts creeping around this explanation, pricking through it with sharp thorns called unarmed, thief, and murder. Instead he tries to think about those golden days of chasing her around the farmhouse, her laughter turning to moans of pleasure as he dragged his lips across her skin. In these memories, he knows they whispered all sorts of promises and adorations, but he can’t remember the words so it’s like a film reel with indistinct audio. 

He doesn’t know how long to wait. After his confession and the fire, they peeled out of town as fast as they could, the cherry rose satchel safely tucked between them (he called it conspicuous but she said only if you don’t dress the part). She kissed his neck as they drove away: Clyde and his Bonnie, together until whatever end. Two days later, she raced back into the luxurious hotel room they had treated themselves to after going to get ice (oh the plans he had for those ice cubes against her hot skin), telling him in a panic that she thinks she was recognized. There was no calming her down; she started throwing things into her enormous silver weekender bag and he could only match her panicked energy and throw things into his brown leather travel bag too. 

“Maybe we should split up.” She said as they pass a mile marker. He wishes he remembered which one.

“What?!” His breathing was ragged, panic rising up in his throat.

She flinched with the unexpected vehemence of his reaction. “I mean, just for a while. They’ll be looking for us to be together, right? If we’re not together, it’ll make it harder for them to find us.”

What was there to say? It made a certain sense; isn’t that what they always did in those heist films he loved as a kid? Split up until the heat was off and the diamonds (it was always diamonds) could be safely sold. But… “You said we’d never split up.”

She rolled her eyes, but tried to hide it. “I didn’t mean it like that.”

He didn’t say anything. He wishes now he had said something. 

At the next suitably large town, she got on a bus after explaining the plan to him again. He watched her get on the bus (his wouldn’t leave for another 45 minutes) and thought it sounded like a math problem: if bus A is going to Dallas travelling at 60 mph and bus B is going to Indianapolis travelling at 65 mph, then when will they meet in Jacksonville? 

She said he would get to the motel first and to use the agreed upon pseudonym (not Clyde Barrow, for Christsake you can’t use that one it’s too obvious). He did everything she said. Still, sometimes he racks his brain to remember what she said in case he forgot something.

He sits by the pool in his most outrageous outfit yet: a cardinal red suit with a tiger print shirt, his hair slicked back and glistening. It’s an alarm bell of an outfit with no one to hear it, least of all the person it’s intended for (is it for her? still?). He wanders around the motel, unsure of what he’s really looking for. Someone to notice him and remind him he exists? To recognize him and call the police? No one does.

He gave up smoking because she didn’t like the taste on his lips. He wonders if taking it up again will conjure her. 

In the end, it is fourteen. As he is dragging the blood red lipstick across the mirrored surface, it snaps with the force of his realization. 

He doesn’t have the satchel.

[peeterparkr]

limits of desire⤳t.h.||20

chapter 20: the honeymoon.

story summary: you met Tom a night he was trying to sleep with you, it didn’t work and you became best of friends. Wedding bells might be ringing for when you both realize what you really feel.

summary: the one with the silence and the halloween party

pairing: fuckboy!tom holland x best friend!reader

warnings: swearing, alcohol, just a little angsty but not really

word count: 5.7K

song I recommend to listen while reading:

if i could fly-one direction

night changes-one direction

back to you-selena gomez

secrets-one republic

change my mind-one direction

listen to one direction 

previous chapter epilogue series masterlist wanna be tagged?

Silence is such a tricky concept when it comes to love. Silence is a tragedy when two lovers can’t say what they truly want. Comfortable silence sounds ideal when you go past the zone of judgement. Y/N and Tom had always loved the silence between them, when they could spend an afternoon doing nothing, each in their thoughts and no feeling of anxiety or discomfort. That’s the ideal. 

But they had come to the tragedy silence, once which felt like having their voice cut by their own hands. It would be easier had they left things unclear. It’s easier to know someone doesn’t love you back and go separate ways. 

Yet they knew they loved each other. And they knew they were meant to be. So hard to part when you both know you want to be together. But when one’s love is that strong then it won’t matter. 

But it did, didn’t it? 

They didn’t like each other anymore. But they did. However, they had to pretend like they didn’t. Or pretend they were not aware the other existed. 

That was the agreement they had reached, become strangers. But how can one pretend to be a stranger to someone whose lips you can still taste in the corner of your mouth? 

To play pretend they didn’t hear each other’s name whenever the other came up in conversation. To ignore the tickle in their tummy if someone dared to mention the other. 

Because they had to grow, they had to heal and they had to learn. But their absence was too much sometimes. 

Tom and y/n hadn’t talked since. Silence. 

However, they had cheated. They had seen each other, incidentally, but avoided their glances even if they both knew they were staring. Going to places where both knew they’d find each other. That wasn’t considered like breaking a rule, was it?

It had not been planned, but it had been wished. Tom had walked in to their favorite cafe with the only desire to be reminded of her, and it seemed she had thought the same thing. They hadn’t initially seen each other, but as Tom was looking around, he saw her. And he was reminded of a simpler time. 

Y/N with her notebook, a pencil pressed against her lips, her hair tied up as she hovered through her keyboard, and as she stared at an open old book. A half bitten croissant and a lipstick stained coffee mug. So focused on whatever she was doing, like the good old days where he had met her there and she had a paper, or an exam or whatever that her classes were putting up with her now. 

And Tom had felt how his heart had stopped, because it had been a month already. And he had felt like he had just been stabbed right in his chest but healed right away. 

Then she looked up and dropped the pencil, as her eyes landed on him. They stared into each other's eyes and it felt eternal. But Tom quickly cleared his throat and looked away. 

They weren’t ready, and they both knew it. But Tom had dared to look back up again, and she gave him a heart full of sad smiles, Tom gave her a smile back and then chuckled to himself. 

And Tom tried to ignore her but kept glancing at her, and she looked better. 

And it became a routine, one that couldn’t be spoken. Sometimes, they’d incidentally be at the same cafe or at the bakery at the same time on Sundays,  but never look into each other’s eyes and never even dared to speak a word. But they could steal a glance or two, and dedicate a smile. They’d sit across each other, usually, y/n curled up with a book, or writing on her pad or typing. 

Tom would bring in scripts, or just stare at his phone. 

It was their secret. 

That was at the beginning, at least, but then they got busier, and Tom had to leave to film. 

Tom knew she had lost her almost  job at the BBC after the events at the press conference, however a magazine had searched for her. Now she was writing for a fashion magazine in their wedding section, the biggest irony one could think of. 

Tom had read each and every one of her articles, but the first one she’d written. He’d kept in his heart. 

Tom would re-read it again and again, memorizing its words, and he’d read all of them. She’d changed her name on instagram, too. She called herself “The Runaway Bride” that was her section on the magazine. Now her life was ruled completely by the title of it. Tom understood it was better than having the other nicknames they had given her as of when she had rejected him. 

But she was different. She had a blog, she was writing, and she would post poems sometimes. At least that’s what he’d gotten from a quick stroll through her instagram. Nothing too big. 

But Tom eventually stopped looking at it, because they had agreed on that. They were supposed to become strangers. And this wasn't doing this. 

Award season had begun and every time a reporter would stop him, he’d try to imagine that y/n could be there, interviewing him for real, instead of the crazy and silly imaginings they would come up with. He missed her. 

.He wondered if y/n was ready. He probably wasn’.t. Because they had agreed on it, we’ll search for each other when we no longer need each other. And the fact that he still had to search for her meant he needed her. 

And their visits faded away, and that’s when it all started to turn on the lights. He remembered her, for sure, in the details. Like in the mornings when he was drinking his tea and asked himself if he wanted lemon and honey or cream and sugar. Or whenever he was watching Friends, and he’d turn around to quote it with her, and he’d realize that she wasn’t there. Sundays felt different. 

He wondered if it was bad to think about her from time to time, wondering if she was alright. He didn’t understand his heart anymore. But Tom knew, this time was for her the same as when she had left. This was the reflection she needed. 

And she had traveled to Paris, to Milan, and to Prague. Her job, Tom knew. And he had traveled to, press tour, filming. 

And Tom dated. Once, or twice. Actual dates, not one night stands. He had gone out, and played it all. But it was just a way to confirm it more. He loved y/n and there was no one else he wanted to be around. 

And Tom would sometimes sit down and dress up and he’d have nowhere to go, but he knew it was good to wait, because the moment she came back, he’d give her all his love. But he couldn’t help but stare at the clock. 

The months went by and by. And he had hovered over her instagram page and realized it, they’d become strangers. They knew nothing about each other anymore. She had texted him on his birthday, he had texted her on hers. 

Something weird had happened, something nobody had seen coming. Not Y/N and Tom at least. Harrison and Lizzie had started dating. 

But Tom guessed that he had been so selfish and so focused on y/n that he hadn’t seen that Haz and Lizzie had grown closer since Tom and Y/N’s first kiss. They had started texting each other, and seeing each other, trying to solve their friends’ stupid decision. And eventually, they’d hang out with each other with the simple excuse they wanted to see each other. 

Tom would try to ask about y/n but Haz wouldn’t let him. And Lizzie would be hanging out at their place and Tom would try to sneak a question or too, and Lizzie would answer: 

“She’s not ready yet, Tom. Neither are you. But she’s alright.” 

Haz had told him that y/n had gone out in a few dates, too. 

“Haz told you?” Liz asked. “Huh, he shouldn’t have but yes, but… Look, I shouldn’t be telling you this, but they weren’t… Great, she had a good time but there were no second dates if that’s what you’re asking.” 

And sooner or later, it was around Halloween. 10 months without her. But he hadn’t been thinking about that, not for the last few months at least. She did cross his mind every now and then. 

But he didn’t mind it, he was getting ready for a Halloween party that Harrison was throwing. Haz and Liz were going to go as Bonnie and Clyde. 

Tom had decided to go as Hercules, Haz had given him the idea, it could hurt no one, right? 

And he was getting ready, everything was fine.

But Tom was having a good time, the music was great, his friends were there and the games were fun. He was fine. He had had a couple beers. But he was okay, some friends of his were there. And some friends of Liz’ too. He recognized Hannah and Jess whom he hadn’t seen since… the wedding. He felt weird, seeing them. 

But he continued to ignore it, he was okay. And then it happened. Just like every other single time, he felt like the music had suddenly stopped. 

The door had opened and he swore he could listen to the air outside just as the light hit her just in her smile. Her hair seemed shorter, and her cheeks and lips were pink. She was followed by no other than a guy, he looked handsome enough. And Tom shattered right there. He imagined all the scenarios, maybe she had met him at her job, or maybe at the coffee house that one time Tom had not gone to, or maybe in Paris, or Milan or Prague. Was this the second time? Had y/n realized she truly didn’t want to be with him? Had she come to ask him again to be her maid of honour? Had she already married? 

But then as he saw their interaction it seemed to be a mere coincidence, two strangers who had walked in at the same time. Y/N ignored the guy as he walked in saying hello to some of the people already having fun. She stayed there taking off her coat revealing a pink dress, Megara, Tom acknowledged. Tom understood then, why Haz had been so insistent on the Hercules costume. And Tom realized it then that the guy who had walked in was in no way dating y/n. She lifted up her bags and walked over to the table where the drinks were, she took out some bottles and a bag of crisps. 

Tom had zoned out, and his eyes were directed at her and only her. Harry had replaced the empty beer on Tom’s hand with another beer. 

Tom’s eyes widened. 

“Bottoms up, or… offer one to her, maybe?” 

But Tom couldn’t even move. He watched as a tipsy Lizzie had approached y/n and hugged her. 

She seemed nervous. He watched her shake her head and look around the room, playing with her hair. 

“Did… did you know?” Asked Tom. 

Harry chuckled. “Yeah, but they forbid me to give you a heads up,” Harry admitted. “Was it… Are you alright?” 

Tom sipped his beer. “I… I dunno.” 

“That’s why you’ve had a beer in your hand all night, ‘right?” Harry explained. 

“Why…?” 

“I think you’re ready, ain’t you?” Harry asked. “‘Cause she is, at least, Haz told me that she asked if she could come.” 

“She’s ready?” Tom watched her as he saw Lizzie trying to calm her down, too. She hadn’t seen him. 

“Oi, to be in the same room as you, at least,” Harry told him. 

Tom nodded. “Right, but I feel like I shouldn’t… Walk up to her, right? It’s...it’s been a while, what would I even say?” 

“A hello wouldn’t hurt.” 

Tom shook his head. “Not, not...yet.” 

Harry didn’t push it. But Tom avoided y/n, but he saw Haz and Tuwaine talking to her. Even the twins, he guessed they had missed her. And a shy smile was on her. But he noticed something, people weren’t leaning in. She wasn’t whispering. Tom thought about how different things would have been had this party been two years ago, Tom would have made sure to have something to make pink mimosas, and he would be flirting with her, on the couch probably, hugging her as they played something, but he’d end up with someone else. 

But they weren’t talking, they hadn’t even seen each other in the eyes. Probably, Tom guessed, she had seen him and tried to steal a glance. 

Eventually Tom walked to the table where the drinks were. He was pouring some water when he felt someone approach him. 

“What’s someone like you doing in a place like this?” The voice asked. 

Tom went stiff as he turned around. 

She was there, with that smile she had, one he remembered, the sad apologetic one. Tom had to lick his lips as he stared at her. 

“Hi,” Tom finally breathed in. 

“Hi,” she bit her lip.

He didn’t say anything, instead, he just tried to adjust his grip on his red cup of water.  

“I… I know it was a risky move,” Y/N started. “But I…” 

Tom smiled. “No, no… it’s… it’s perfect,” he grinned. “Uh… how, how…” 

“I’m good,” y/n admitted. “What about you? I saw you just came back from filming…” 

“Yeah, yeah,” Tom ran a hand through his hair.

Y/N looked up and down. “Hercules, huh?” 

“Yeah, Haz insisted,” Tom chuckled. “Now I...kind of see why, Megara,”  he grinned as he saw her costume. 

“Nice knees,” she giggled. 

Tom blushed, rolling his eyes. “I’m kind of pulling it off, ain’t I?” Tom grinned. 

“You… actually are,” y/n laughed. “Wonderboy. The hair looks good,” she said, ruffling it a little. “Okay, turn around,” she chuckled as he did, trying to show off. “Yeah, yeah, looks good.” 

“You… you look very beautiful, too,” Tom admitted making her blush. “Can’t believe they set us up, though.” 

Y/N laughed. “Liz asked me about a month ago whom I was dressing up as for Halloween, I told her Meg to shut her up and then she actually bought this.” 

“She did?” Tom chuckled. 

“Yeah, at the end I was going to do a last-minute costume, but she had it,” Y/N rolled her eyes.

Tom gulped. “Oh, so you’ve known about this for a month?” 

“Didn’t know it would be…” Y/N trailed off. “I mean I knew I’d go to a party, but I well—“

Tom wished he had pockets to dig his hands in. “Right,” Tom laughed. 

“I’ve missed you,” she admitted. 

He smiled. “I’ve missed you, too.” And they looked into each other. “Uh… Can I offer you a drink?” Tom asked. 

She grinned. 

“Sure, a beer would be good.” 

Tom looked up for it and then stared at her. “This is weird isn’t it?” 

“I wouldn’t—Kinda, yeah, kinda weird.” 

Tom looked around. “Let’s go outside,” Tom suggested and y/n followed him, 

“We agreed on being strangers,” Tom said as they walked outside, a few other people were there, but they found a spot where they could sit. 

Y/N looked at him. “After all we’ve been through, I can’t pretend I don’t know you, Thomas.”

Tom nodded, they clicked their beer together and then proceeded to take a sip. 

“I mean we could pretend,” Tom suggested. “Maybe we could go back in time, Halloween 6 years ago.” 

Y/N chuckled. “Oh, right. Have you any perfume hanging around so I can spray it on you?” 

Tom chuckled. “You’d love that, wouldn’t you?” 

She shrugged. “Maybe.” 

“No, but—“

“You don’t feel like a stranger,” she nudged him. 

“But I could be, you know?” Tom grinned. 

“And what would you do if you were a stranger?” Y/N asked. “You wouldn’t even look at me if it weren’t for our history.” 

Tom looked at her. “What?” 

Y/n chuckled. “Please there are lots of prettier girls out there.” 

And it felt like an old conversation, one they would’ve had before. Like they used to because, in a way, it didn’t feel weird, it felt like the conversation they could’ve had had she not returned last year engaged. 

“Yet I’m here with you,” Tom pointed out.

Y/N grinned. “Hmm lucky me.”

“I would be here anyway,” Tom chuckled. “I mean you’re dressed up as Megara, it’s kind of meant to be, isn’t it?” 

“Meant to be?” Y/N chuckled. “Or more like those two dickheads over there are onto something,” y/n pointed out as she signalled Haz and Liz who had their eyes glued on them. Tom and y/n flipped them off at the same time and then proceeded to laugh together. But then the laugh quickly faded out. 

“But if I were a stranger…”He cleared his throat and walked away then back to her, as y/n watched him with curiosity. “Hey.” 

Y/N rolled her eyes. “Hi?” 

“I’m Tom,” he grinned. “Can I sit here?” 

“Sure, a friend just left,” she chuckled. 

“Hm, a friend,” Tom smiled sitting down beside her. “So what’s your name?” 

“Tom—“She chuckled. “We don’t have to do—“

“No, no, hey, we are strangers, I wanna get to know you.” 

She glared at him but he winked at her, making her blush. 

“My name is y/n,” she grinned. 

“Hmm… funny name,” Tom pointed out.

 “Hey!” She nudged him. 

“Sorry, I’m honest, you should know that about me,” Tom shrugged. “Which is basically a way to shield me on being a jerk.” 

“You don’t seem like a jerk,” she smiled. 

“So, what do you do for a living?” 

She giggled. “I’m… a reporter and a writer, I work at the BBC and I occasionally write for a magazine.” 

Tom bit his lip. “That’s great.” 

“What about you?” 

“I’m an actor,” Tom said. 

“Ah cool, have I seen you in anything?” She teased. 

“Mm,” Tom scrunched his nose. “Probably not, maybe this project, you may have heard of it… The avengers? I play this guy Spiderman.” 

Y/N shook her head. “Never heard of it,” she lied and let out a laugh. 

“Yeah, no, it’s pretty small,” he smirked. 

“Someday you’ll have your big breakout don’t worry,” y/n grinned. 

“So you’re a reporter that must… mean you travel a lot!” Tom asked. 

She frowned. 

“You seem like someone who’s travelled lately,” Tom said condescendingly. 

Y/N rolled her eyes. “So someone’s been looking at my Instagram.” 

“How could I? We just met,” Tom smirked, sipping his beer. “But is that a way of giving me your Instagram? Are you flirting with me?”

“Tommy,” She rolled her eyes. 

“Already starting with nicknames, sweetheart?” Tom teased. 

Y/N glared at him jokingly. 

“Well, have you travelled?” 

“Reporters usually—“Y/N cleared her throat. “Well they usually don’t do it that much, but yeah, I have travelled.” 

Tom bit his lip. “Where to, lately?” 

“Recently went to Italy.” 

“What did you do there?” 

y/n sighed and looked away. 

“Hm?” Tom pushed. 

“I… Tom, I should’ve...Told you before,” y/n bit her lip. 

“What?” 

“I got engaged.” 

Tom stopped. He felt cold. He felt sick. He wanted to get sucked into the earth. This was the same shit all over again. He went pale. He was sweating cold. 

But he was mature enough, and though it hurt, he knew that this had been a consequence of the silence and he should've stopped her when he could’ve. But if she had taken this decision, it meant that they never should have been in the first place, if finding herself meant she was in love with someone else, then he had to agree with it. 

“I...well, I’m happy for you.” And he meant it, in a way he was happy for her. 

Y/N then burst into laughter, as she threw her head back. 

Tom frowned. “What?” 

“Oh my god, I’m joking!” She explained in between laughs. 

“What?” 

“I’m not engaged, oh my god,” she said. 

Tom felt the warmth coming back to his body. He had to stand up to laugh nervously to himself. 

“Oh my god,” y/n laughed. “You actually believed it?” 

Tom rubbed his hair and his face, nervously. Now chuckling embarrassed. “How could I not? God,” Tom chuckled, placing a hand on his chest. “I almost had a heart attack.” 

“I...oh my god, no I’m sorry,” she giggled, standing up, placing only one hand over his shoulder. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry it was too soon.” 

Tom pulled her into a hug, because he felt like he had wanted to wrap himself around her since he had first seen her walk in. She gave in to the hug, and nuzzled into him, she’d missed him too, Tom guessed. 

“I hate you,” he stated. 

She grinned. “You should’ve seen your face.” 

He let her go and sat back again. “You suck.” 

“I know,” she grinned, sitting back down. “But see? We can’t act like strangers.” 

“You dropped that bomb only to prove that?” 

“A stranger wouldn’t have reacted that way,” she winked at him. 

Tom laughed. “Well, I’m sorry?” Tom was dignified. 

“We’re not strangers, Tommy, even if sometimes I wish we were.” 

“Yeah, after that I wish I didn’t know you either,” he joked, nudging her. “

She smiled, slightly. 

“It would be too ironic, wouldn’t it? Had I really been engaged, but I—It would be impossible,” she confessed. “Maybe it sounds conceited , but… It would be pretty stupid even if I was dating someone.” 

Tom watched her. 

“Dating is underrated,” Tom agreed. 

“Have you dated?” Y/N asked. 

“I—Well, I have,” he admitted. 

“Yeah, me too, they set me up a few times,” y/n accepted. “How did they go? Are you seeing anyone? Met anybody?” 

“I have,” Tom admitted. 

It was y/n’s turn to become stiff. He saw how the light in her eyes faded away and the smile she was wearing disappeared. She had to shift in her place but nodded. 

“Oh,” she licked her lips. “Cool, what’s her name?” 

“I’m not sure if I should tell you,” Tom sighed. “It’s…” 

“Is it serious?” Y/N asked, and Tom could tell she was trying to speak with the least poison she could. 

Tom shrugged. “I mean, well. Kind of.”  

Y/N played with her fingers. “Well, I’m…” Y/N looked around. “Maybe you can give her someday that ring you bought, the Tiffany’s one.” 

Tom’s eyes widened. “What?” 

“You know, the one that was in your nightstand a few months ago,” y/n snaked. 

“I wouldn’t give her that ring,” Tom chuckled, nervously. “How did you know?” 

“Why not?” Y/N smiled. 

“Y/N.” 

She smiled sadly. “If you love her, don’t let her go.” 

Tom felt a stab on his heart and then rubbed his face. “Oh god, how do you do it?” 

“What?” Y/N frowned. 

“I was trying to pull off the same stupid joke you made yet I’m here feeling guilty for even coming up with it,” Tom scoffed, letting out a gentle and embarrassed chuckle. 

“So you’re…?” Y/N frowned. 

“No, I’m not seeing anybody,” Tom laughed. “How could I?” 

And she finally breathed out, nervously as she loosened up herself. “Oh, you looked so serious,” she giggled. “Dumbass! I really believed it.” 

“You don’t give much credit to yourself, y/n,” Tom pushed back a loose strand of hair. “You sometimes forget I’ve been in love with you since we first met, and I haven’t stopped loving you since.” 

She blushed and stared into his eyes, and he felt it again, he felt his soul naked with her, as if she knew all his secrets. But he didn’t have to have any secrets with her. 

“That’s good to know,” she smiled as her fingers finally searched for his hand.

“I do want to know, y/n,” he cleared his throat. “What ring are you talking about?” 

She shrugged. “I...remember that day before the dancing lessons?” y/n asked him. 

“I...yeah?” 

“Well, I went to your room to search for a charger and I… opened it and I found it,” she admitted. 

Tom felt his heart break. “Oh, yeah.” 

She stayed quiet. 

“Well, before I knew you were…. Engaged, I well, I may have thought about going down on one knee,” he admitted truthfully. “But I… well, I don’t have it anymore.” 

She nodded. 

And they stayed quiet, for a bit. Drinking their beers. And the party was continuing around them. And Tom was sure that he should kiss her, but it wasn’t the time. Right now, it really wasn’t the time. Even if he was almost certain she loved him still. But maybe they truly were strangers now, maybe they had always been strangers. Because they had kept secrets, secrets that shouldn’t have been kept. But she felt like home, like listening to an old song, or like tasting an ice cream that you used to love in your childhood. 

And even if everyone else was drunk enough and loud enough, he knew that they were quiet. The moon was hitting her on her nose, and she was taking his breath away. Tom felt defenceless. 

“I had to stop myself from calling, even if I did this one time” she whispered. Tom watched her. “I had all this time to be apart from you and I only could think on the day we’d see each other again.”

Tom watched her carefully. “The boys missed you.” 

“Did they?” Y/N grinned. 

“Yeah,” Tom gulped. “They missed your laugh around the house.” 

She grinned. “Oh, nice.” 

“And the path you left with that perfume,” he continued. “And they realized that red m&m’s exist,” he chuckled. “And they missed you because no one would finish my Friends quotes, so they had to learn them.” 

“Oh.” 

“Yeah,” he cleared his throat. “And they missed that there was no one leaving books around the house, and they pointed out that we no longer were randomly interviewed so we didn’t have anyone to practice our oscar interviews with.” 

She blushed. “They missed all of that, huh.” 

“Yeah,” Tom took a deep breath. “But hey, you’re back, right?” Tom gulped. “I mean because they’ve missed you.” 

“Should I?” She grinned. 

He shrugged. 

“You know, I missed them too, but…” She looked around. “So maybe I should stick around by now, so they don’t have to deal with the red M&M’s.” 

Tom nodded. 

“It’s weird, you know, I wanted to stay for other reasons,” she started. 

“Oh, really which ones?” 

She shrugged. “Tell me what you want to hear,” she whispered. 

Tom bit his lip. “I don’t even know what I want to hear.” 

“I found myself, Tom,” she admitted. “But I realized that whoever I am is because of you, you know? And maybe… Maybe I am slightly drunk alright? But you are really the reason that keeps me going, and I realized that you’re really that goodbye I will never be able to say because I… it’s true, I can’t live without you.” 

“Maybe it was stupid to be apart.” 

“Or maybe it wasn’t,” she shrugged. “I don’t know how you feel about it, but I’m certain, even if I… if I’m dirty now, all stained, even after everything, is it wrong that I still want to give everything away just to be close to you?” 

He didn’t say anything. “I almost called you a few times, too. I think I called you once, drunkenly.” 

“You did, it was at 4 am, and you left a voicemail, and I’ve gotta admit, I listened to it so many times I ended up memorizing it,” she confessed. “You know? It was… different for me, I didn’t miss you when I was drunk,” she said. Tom frowned. “I missed you in the morning, or when something good happened and I had to tell someone, and none of the people I could tell was you, and I missed your laugh too, I missed having someone annoying the hell out of me when I was working.” 

Tom smirked. 

“And I… also missed you at random times, and I may have or may have not asked Lizzie to steal a hoodie of yours, she didn’t do it, and I’m glad because that would’ve been very creepy,” she admitted, embarrassed. 

Tom laughed. “I almost bought your perfume.” 

She looked at the party. 

“We should dance,” she suggested. 

“Really y/n while we’re…” He chuckled, but she had already taken his hand and dragged him back inside to dance. He knew she loved dancing. So he pulled her closer, and their friends were in a bit state of shock for a bit, watching them have fun. 

But they were dancing, sillying around, and drinking. They played some games and had fun, forgetting their past conversations or their past situation. They were like strangers, flirting with each other, dancing with the other. 

She spoke with Harry and Sam, she was laughing with Tuwaine. But Tom wouldn’t leave her side. They took shots together, and drinks and beers. 

“Hey,” Lizzie had dragged y/n out from Tom’s grip as Harrison had pulled Tom with him. 

Y/n drunkenly chuckled. “Yep?” 

“How’s it going?” Lizzie asked, handing her friend a glass of water.

Y/N downed the drink and shrugged. “I wanna make out with him and hold his tush.” 

Lizzie widened her eyes and laughed. “Alright, you’re drunk drunk.”

Y/N grinned. “A wee bit, yeh.” 

Liz sighed. “Y/N, don’t do anything you’ll regret, and now drink more of this,” she filled up the glass with more water. 

Y/N downed it again. “Hmm.” 

Harrison couldn’t calm a giggling Tom. 

“Mate, are you okay?” 

“Nah,” Tom laughed. “But she’s ‘eeeere mate.” 

Haz rolled his eyes. “Did you talk?” 

“A lil’ yea,” but then he walked past Harrison and back to y/n. They were sobering up, as they were talking in the couch. Pure nonsense, really, but they couldn’t keep their hands or eyes off each other. 

This definitely wasn’t what they had expected, they probably thought their reencounter wouldn’t have been like this, y/n at least had thought it would be like on a rom-com or a romantic novel, where they would stare at each other and kiss and profess their love, instead they were drunk to their asses giggling to random nonsense.  

But they were catching up, in their own stupid way. And it felt like old times, two friends making each other laugh and telling stories. And they didn’t pay attention to anything else, it was like the spotlight was on them and only them. 

Her head landed on his shoulder eventually as Tom was showing pictures onset or as she showed him random pictures of her travels. 

And sooner or later, people were leaving. And Haz and Liz were probably too busy making out, or god knows where to notice y/n and Tom had walked out of the house to go for a walk. 

They were holding hands and ended up in the park near Tom’s house. They had sobered up, enough to be able to talk without dragging their tongue. 

The night was quiet, but it felt just like the party. Nothing surrounding them mattered, their eyes were glued to each other. And they felt like home. 

And both of them were dying for a kiss,but it wasn’t the time. Or maybe neither were brave enough.

Y/N was the one to break the silence. “I get it if you’re not ready yet,” she started and her voice was soft, Tom had to lean to listen to her. “I wouldn’t blame you, I hurt you and I know that it was too much and I know that even with everything, it’s delicate, I know that it would tear apart your reputation and I know that after all that I’ve done, I have no right in asking you anything but you don’t have to do anything.” 

“I’d risk it all for you, you know?” 

“But I don’t want you to,” she looked at him. “I like you, and I don’t know if it’s cool if I say it, you know? All night love I’ve tried to bring my lips to yours.” 

“And why not?” 

“I’m not afraid anymore, but I’ve stopped myself because I don’t know if we should.” 

“We should.” 

“I love you. But right now, I don’t know if I’m allowed to say it.” 

“You are,” Tom said, taking her by the hand. 

“But I do, I really do love you,” she admitted. “Maybe we were only a mistake, and maybe it was stupid, but I want to be the best mistake you ever had.” 

“You’re not a mistake,” Tom kissed her hand.

“And all this time, I’ve tried to come up with reasons as to why I shouldn’t love you, and many came but the sole reason that I want to love you won, and I just want to build a story, you know? Because you’ve already given me one, and I’ve learned so much, and now I can’t live without the little details you did. And these months apart only confirmed it, you’re the only one I want to be with.And you really don’t have to do anything, just let me love you, don’t push me away, I won’t run away this time, because really, that’s the only thing I desire, I want to love you, and I don’t want any more limits to pull us back.” 

Tom didn’t give her an answer, he just leaned over and closed the gap between them. Because at that moment, there were really no limits of desire. 

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[petrovabled]

[ NINA DOBREV. 18/544+. female ] was that just KATHERINE PIERCE, I saw walking down the streets of New Orleans? The VAMPIRE is known to be +CONFIDENT, but SHE could also be -TWISTED and can be best described by RED LIPSTICK, BLOOD STAINED HANDS, AND MOON STONES

BASICS

full name: katherine pierve/ katerina petrova. age: 18/544 date of birth:  june 5th species: vampire hair colour: brown eye colour:: brown

BIOGRAPHY

Katherine Pierce, born as Katerina Petrova, was a witch born in Bulgaria. She was one of the travelers, and is the second known Petrova Doppelgänger of Amara.  She is the mother to Nadia Petorva, who she only met during her birth. 

In 1490, she was disowned by her father because she brought shame upon her family after giving birth to a baby girl out of wedlock when she was seventeen. She was forced to give the baby up for adoption and then was then exiled to England. She quickly assimilated into English culture and met two nobleman brothers, Niklaus and Elijah Mikaelson. At first, she was attracted to both men, but in time, she eventually learned that she was a Petrova doppelgänger and that Klaus was planning on using her as a sacrifice in order to break the curse that bound his werewolf side. She sabotaged his plan by running away with the moonstone, which bound the curse, and then tricked Rose into feeding her vampire blood so she could turn herself into a vampire. Because Katherine was no longer human, her blood no longer was a viable component of the ritual to undo the curse. Klaus was so infuriated with Katherine's sabotage, that she was forced to live on the run for over 500 years as he hunted her down.

After this, Katerina took the alias "Katherine Pierce" (an anglicized version of her birth name) and eventually met and befriended Pearl, Anna, and Emily Bennett. In the late 19th century, she traveled to Mystic Falls, where she met Stefan and Damon Salvatore, whose family hosted her at the Salvatore Estate. She later fell in love with both brothers, and subsequently fed them her blood, resulting in their eventual transitions into vampires after they were killed by their father in early autumn of 1864. When the Founder's Council found out the identities of the vampires in town, she faked her death and escaped being sealed in the tomb with the aid of George Lockwood, who helped her in exchange for the moonstone.

During the twentieth century, she continued to keep tabs on Stefan while still hiding from Klaus, including two separate sightings in Chicago in the 1920s and the 1980s. In 2010, she came back to Mystic Falls with the intention of finally earning her freedom from Klaus by handing over the Petrova doppelgänger who came after her, Elena Gilbert. To sweeten the potential deal with Klaus, she killed Caroline Forbes, who had Damon's blood in her system and later transitioned into a vampire, and tricked Mason and Tyler Lockwood into triggering their werewolf curses, just so they could each also serve as the vampire and werewolf sacrifices necessary in the ritual. She even tracked down the moonstone so that she could give Klaus every component necessary to break his curse. However, when her plans ultimately fell through, she fled Mystic Falls again shortly after Klaus broke his hybrid curse on his own, knowing that he was not done punishing her for her betrayal half a millennium ago.

After failing to induce Klaus' forgiveness by securing the cure and handing it over to Elijah in , Katherine managed to draw Klaus away from Mystic Falls by revealing to him in a letter that a witch in New Orleans named Jane-Anne Deveraux was plotting against him. Once Klaus and Elijah officially returned to New Orleans, Katherine moved back to Mystic Falls, confident that the Mikaelsons would be too preoccupied with their complications there to pay any attention to her.

In later months, Katherine initiated a violent fight with Elena, believing that Elena got the life that Katherine deserved. Just as she was about to rip her descendant's heart out of her chest, Elena forced the cure down Katherine's throat, which resulted in Katherine returning to a human/Traveler for the first time in over 500 years.

Following these events, she went on the run for the summer, but when she realized that her return to humanity made her vulnerable to all of the various supernatural enemies she had made over the centuries, she returned to Mystic Falls, hoping to sweet-talk Stefan and Damon into giving her their protection. However, she was forced to flee again when the immortal Silas came looking for her at the Salvatore Boarding House and tried to kill her. Silas later revealed to Damon that Katherine's blood became the cure after she had ingested it, which is why he wanted Katherine so he could cure himself and die so he could be reunited with his true love in the afterlife. She ran from him for weeks, but eventually, Damon helped Silas lure Katherine to the house and fed him her blood, which turned him back into a witch.

Though Katherine should have died after Silas completely drained her of blood, Katherine's survivor instincts won out, and she managed to live through the attack. Unfortunately for Katherine, she learned shortly afterward that having the cure removed from her bloodstream had caused her body to start rapidly aging in order to compensate for the 500+ years she had been "alive" as an immortal vampire. Not ready to die, her daughter Nadia reminded her that as the daughter of a Traveler, Katherine had the magical powers necessary to become a Passenger in someone else's body. She ultimately cast the Passenger spell on her deathbed to transfer her spirit into Elena's body, with help from Nadia and a Traveler named Mia. After the gang discovered this, Stefan stabbed her with the Traveler Knife, expelling her from Elena's body, but not before Katherine made amends with a dying Nadia. Upon learning she was denied entry to the Other Side, and therefore also denied a reunion with her daughter, she was dragged by unseen forces into what is presumed to be a hell of some kind.

It was revealed that Katherine was sent to Hell where she manipulated Arcadius since the minute she was sent there. She eventually returned became an ally of Kai Parker and after Cade's death and became the queen of Hell. Shortly after, she was killed by the Mystic Falls Gang after Bonnie sent hellfire back to hell while Katherine was there. Hell was destroyed and Katherine's fate remain unknown, either she was destroyed with hell or moved on and found peace.

Katherine's notable ancestors include Amara, who was Silas' true love and presumably the world's first immortal woman, and Tatia, whose blood was involved in the creation of the adapted spell of immortality that was cast on the Mikaelson Family by Esther, as well the curse that bound Klaus' werewolf side. She is also the maternal ancestor of Isobel Flemming and that of Isobel's biological daughter, Elena Gilbert. She was once the romantic interest of Stefan and Damon Salvatore, as well as Mason Lockwood. Since the late 15th century, she has also been the romantic interest of Elijah, with whom she was involved in the 21st century until he effectively ended their relationship by leaving to join his half-brother, Klaus, in New Orleans.

[alonely-dreamer]

Dangerous Creatures | Chapter 1: The Creatures of the Shadows

Summary: Mackenzie Alemaund is an unlucky 18 year old teenager whose life changes drastically after she gets kidnapped by two vampires and learns, in the same day, that she is not human.

Pairing: Elijah x OC

Words: 6918

A/N: Please, note that I am French so there might be some mistakes here and there.

Masterlist

Mackenzie Alemaund was an eighteen-year-old senior high school student living in Mystic Falls alone with her step-father. She was a quiet girl who didn’t bother anyone. She was top of her class, always had been, always will be. There wasn’t anything special about Mackenzie Alemaund. She liked to read and listen to music, nothing extraordinary there, but she had a certain talent when it came to the arts. She could draw and paint magnificent pieces that somehow always ended up in the trash. There used to be a time, a long time ago, when her drawings were pinned to the fridge or the walls of the house, back when her mother was still alive. Back when she was happy. Back when she was just a kid.

Now, Mackenzie was afraid to be inside her own house. Afraid to speak. Afraid to breathe.

Mackenzie had no friends, no enemies. She knew people, and people knew of her. But nobody really cared. Not that she minded. She didn’t find her situation particularly unfair, though it was, she just didn’t think about her situation at all. Every day was a struggle. Every day was about getting hurt as less as possible. She didn’t have time to think about how it should be, she could only think about what it would be if she made just one little mistake.

Strategically, she thought going to the masquerade ball at the Lockwood mansion would be the best way to not get hurt at all that day. She would come home late, when he should be asleep.

Yes, it was definitely the best plan.

It was dark away from the mansion, where Mackenzie could still hear the music and the laughs of the people partying in masks. She was holding the stick of hers in her right hand, the large white feather brushing against the skin of her cleavage. She had made it herself, though it was so well-done that nobody actually believed her when they asked where she got it. It was white and purple, somehow the color was barely noticeable, and it matched the purple ball gown she had bought with her mother when she was sixteen for her first prom. It was a sleeveless elegant and modern dress that fit her perfectly, it was long enough that nobody could notice the ballerina flats she was wearing but not too long that she would stumble on it and make a fool of herself.

As she reached her car she noticed Elena Gilbert walking her way. She was wearing jeans and a pink shirt and Mackenzie frowned as she remembered she had just seen her half an hour ago in a black dress with a black mask on her face and a very red lipstick. She was on the phone. Mackenzie couldn’t hear what she was saying but she was pretty sure she heard the names ‘Jeremy’ and ‘Bonnie’. After she hung up, Elena looked up and saw Mackenzie standing just next to her car. They gave each other a polite yet friendly smile. Mackenzie noticed Elena seemed tired as the Gilbert girl awkwardly waved at her.

That’s when she first saw him. The man in the mask. She didn’t recognize him, she didn’t remember him from the party. She was sure it wasn’t Stefan, Elena’s boyfriend. Or was he her ex-boyfriend? Mackenzie didn’t know. Mackenzie didn’t care.

Elena turned around, curious about what Mackenzie was staring at. She gasped as she saw the complete stranger, all dressed in black, walk rapidly towards her. She was about to scream when the man grabbed her by the waist as he covered her mouth and nose with a white cloth that smelled funny.

“Elena!”

Mackenzie managed to shout right before the same thing happened to her. She tried to fight the sudden dizziness that took over her. It happened fast. The mask reached the ground as her eyes closed and she passed out in the stranger’s arms.

It was hot in the black car. The driver and his friend on the passenger seat hadn’t moved a muscle since they had parked in the empty field over eight hours ago. Elena and Mackenzie were still unconscious in the back when a black SUV with tainted windows joined them and stopped next to the car.

The driver, who was still wearing the same black suit from the night before, got out and walked over to the SUV. The dark window slightly opened to let appear a young man wearing a black cap and sunglasses.

“Where is she?”

“In the trunk.”

“Did you do as I said?”

A few seconds of silence passed and the driver was getting impatient.

��Well?”

“There was a complication,” he nervously admitted.

“What complication?”

“She wasn’t alone. There was another girl there. We had to take her with us. No witnesses.”

The driver looked away, aggravated, and paused, contemplating his options. Killing the unwelcomed victim would be a rookie mistake, and he couldn’t afford it. If he left one single clue, one as big as a dead teenage girl, it could be his death sentence.

“Put them in the back,” he eventually ordered.

He watched in the mirror as the two men did as he asked.

“Thank you for your help.”

“Is there anything else?”

“Yes. Remember what I told you to do once you were done?” he asked, and the man in the suit nodded. “You’re done.”

The man nodded again, then backed away and turned to face his accomplice. He then took out his gun and shot him in the chest before he proceeded to shoot himself in the head. The SUV drove away, leaving the bodies on the ground.

When Elena woke up she found herself in an unknown room with an unknown man. He was wearing jeans and a black hoodie. The room was a mess. It was dirty and dusty and old, and it smelled like it. She could feel she was lying down on what appeared to be a couch. A very ugly and old couch. Her vision was blurred for a few seconds but then she realized she was facing Mackenzie who was still unconscious. She looked her up and down and was a little relieved to see no injuries on her. That’s when she felt it. The pain in her arm.

She looked up at the man whom she didn’t recognize, and though she was afraid she managed to find the courage to speak up.

“What do you want?”

But he didn’t answer. He put his finger on his lips, gesturing her to stay quiet.

“Please, I’m hurt,” she tried again.

“I know,” he said, staring at her bleeding wound. She could see what he was thinking. She gasped as he moved closer to her. “Just a taste,” he told her, or maybe himself.

“No!” Elena shouted as she tried to back away from him.

“Trevor!” a firm female voice stopped him, “control yourself,” she continued, in the tone of a mother scolding her child. She had the same British accent as her friend. She had brown hair and brown eyes, she was wearing jeans, a blue shirt and a brown jacket. She was staring at Elena like she had trouble believing what she was seeing.

Trevor recomposed himself and backed off.

“Rose,” he sighed. “Buzz kill…”

Elena watched as the vampire walked away.

“What’s that smell?” Rose asked.

“It’s sleeping beauty over there,” Trevor answered from the top of the stairs.

“Why does she smell so good?”

“I don’t know,” he shrugged. “But I’d love to find out if her blood is as good as it smells. Can I eat her?”

“No!” both Elena and Rose said.

Trevor, unhappy with the answer, rolled his eyes and exited the room.

“Who is she anyway?” she asked her friend, loud enough for him to hear, even though he would have heard her anyway.

“Complications!”

Rose made an annoyed face, the situation already wasn’t easy, they didn’t need complications. Her eyes fell back on Elena and the human could see astonishment on her face.

“My God, you look just like her.”

“But I’m not,” Elena shook her head, thinking they wanted Katherine, “whatever you…”

“Be quiet.”

“But I’m not Katherine,” she repeated as she stood up. “My name is Elena Gilbert. You don’t have to do this.”

“I know who you are. I said, be quiet.”

Elena frowned.

“What do you want?”

The vampire was annoyed by her incessant questions and slapped Elena so hard the human fell back on the couch, unconscious.

“I want you to be quiet,” she said, before she left the room, leaving the two unconscious teenagers alone on the couch.

Mackenzie woke up not long after. She blinked several times, confused, even in her state of slumber, to where she was. She slowly looked around and didn’t recognize the room she was in. Suddenly, fear ceased her as she remembered the last thing she saw was a man grabbing Elena and the last thing she felt was a humid cloth on her mouth. She sat bolt upright and brought her hands to her face as if she could still feel it. She saw Elena lying in front of her. She couldn’t not see the stain of blood on her arm. She instantly tried to wake her up.

“Elena!” she whispered as loudly as she could, she didn’t want to alert the people who had brought them there. Wherever “there” was.

She heard her moan, as if she was in pain, and saw her slowly open her eyes.

“Elena, are you okay?” she asked, panic clear in her voice.

“Mackenzie,” she whispered. “You’re awake.”

Elena sat up to face her and winced when she used her injured arm.

“Are you okay?”

“It’s nothing.”

“What are we doing here? Where are we?” Mackenzie asked, she looked like a scared little girl.

“I don’t know where we are,” Elena answered the easiest question.

Where they were didn’t matter. What mattered was who was there with them, holding them in that shady dusty abandoned house for an unknown reason. There was no way Mackenzie would survive this day without seeing things she couldn’t unsee, and Elena knew she was going to panic and that wouldn’t end well, for anybody.

Elena took Mackenzie’s hand as she got up. She gestured her to be quiet, pointed a finger at the door up the stairs and then pointed at her ear. Mackenzie understood what she meant. Two people were talking, a man and a woman, it wasn’t hard listening to them as their conversation resonated in the entire house. They listened to them argue as they walked up the stairs as slowly and quietly as possible.

“So, you called him?” Trevor asked, he sounded nervous.

“No, I called one of his contacts. You know how this works.”

“Did you or did you not get the message to Elijah?”

“They say he got it.”

“Wonderful. And what?”

“So, that’s it, Trevor. He either got it or he didn’t. We just have to wait.”

“Look, i-it’s not too late,” Trevor stuttered, “we can leave her. We don’t have to go through with this.”

“I’m sick of running.”

“Yeah? Well, running keeps up from dying.”

“Elijah’s old-school, if he accepts our deal, we’re free.”

Elena looked back at Mackenzie. Even though she was a year older, Mackenzie was shorter than her, and Elena felt the need to protect her from everything she didn’t know. She squeezed her hand and Mackenzie nodded. They had to be quiet. But the floor creaked under Elena’s footsteps and alerted the two vampires.

“You!” Rose said, before she quickly and angrily made her way to the girls.

Elena stepped back and pushed Mackenzie behind her to shield her from the vampire.

“There’s nothing around here for miles. If you think you’re getting out, you’re wrong. Understand?”

Elena didn’t respond. She didn’t even nod. Mackenzie was surprised as the woman clearly expected an answer. If it had been her she would have been nodding like a crazy person. If she had been alone she would have stayed on that couch, waiting, too terrified to move.

Rose, who had grown tired of Elena and her boldness, stepped out of the room. Mackenzie let out a breath she didn’t know she was holding.

“Come on.”

Elena started to follow them but Mackenzie, whose hand she was still holding, stopped her.

“What are you doing?” she asked, terrified.

“Let’s find out why we’re here.”

“But…”

Elena didn’t give her time to reply as she dragged her in the next room where they found Rose. The room was as bad as the one they woke up in. There were books everywhere. On the floor, on the sofas, on the table… The room was quite and dark. Almost all the windows had been covered up with cardboards. There were a few lamps across the room to make up for the lack of daylight.

As they joined Rose in the dirty room, Mackenzie was starting to wonder if Elena was trying to get them killed, if she knew more than she said, or if she was just crazy.

“Why am I here?” she asked, and if she was afraid, Mackenzie couldn’t tell.

“You keep asking me questions like I’m gonna answer them,” Rose said.

“Why won’t you?” Elena asked next, a little too cocky for Mackenzie’s taste.

“That’s another one.”

Mackenzie watched Rose take a cardboard and put it against a window, blocking the sunlight from entering the room. She found it curious that she would walk around the sunlight instead of just through it, like any sane person would.

“You got me, okay? It’s not like I can go anywhere.”

Mackenzie noticed that Elena only talked about herself, as if they only wanted her. Or as if she had completely forgotten about the girl whose hand was still in hers. Mackenzie was getting more and more convinced that Elena was crazy, or that she had a terrible survival instinct.

“The least you can do is tell me what you want with me.”

Mackenzie knew that the woman didn’t need to do anything. She wondered what made Elena think that she could boss her around and force her to answer her questions. The safest way to play it, the only way that would ensure they wouldn’t get too much hurt, was to go back to the couch and stay quiet. But it seemed that Elena disagreed.

“I personally want nothing. I’m just a delivery service.”

“To who? Elijah?”

Rose chuckled. “Two points for the eavesdropper,” she said, she sounded amused.

Each step Elena took brought them closer to the short-haired stranger and Mackenzie couldn’t have been squeezing Elena’s hand any harder.

“Who is he? Is he a vampire?”

Mackenzie instantly looked up at Elena, though she was facing her back. She was certain she had misheard.

“He’s one of the vampires. The Originals.”

“What do you mean “the Originals”?” Elena mumbled.

“What do you mean “vampires”,” Mackenzie whispered to Elena.

Different scenarios were playing in her mind. Either Elena knew something she didn’t and knew that the two people who had taken them thought vampires were real and she was just pretending, or Elena was as mad as them and they were both going to die.

“Doesn’t your friend know?” Rose asked with an amused smirk.

“She’s not my friend,” Elena said.

She didn’t mean it in a bad way. It was just the truth. Elena and Mackenzie weren’t friends. They knew of each other’s existence because Elena was popular and everybody knew her, especially after she lost her parents, and because Mackenzie’s mother had died two years before and the entire town had heard of it.

“She has nothing to do with this, why did you take her?”

“Be happy she’s here,” Rose answered, “we could’ve just killed her instead.”

Mackenzie squeezed Elena’s hand as she moved closer to her.

“Who are the Originals?”

“Again with the questions,” Rose sighed. “Haven’t the Salvatores been teaching you vampire history?”

Mackenzie’s eyes grew big as she realized that she was talking about Stefan and his brother.

“So, you know Stefan and Damon?” Elena asked.

“I know of them. A hundred years back, a friend of mine tried to set me up with Stefan. She said he was one of the good ones. More of a sucker for the bad boys, though, but I digress.”

A hundred years back. The words echoed loudly in Mackenzie’s mind, and a strong headache started to make her feel dizzy. She was among crazy people, alone, somewhere she didn’t know, and somehow, she still felt safer than she did inside her own house. Maybe it was because of Elena, who seemed pretty courageous at that moment, or maybe it was despite of her, who wasn’t making much sense…

“Who are the Originals?” Elena asked again.

Rose rolled her eyes and slowly turned around.

“Trevor and I have been running for 500 years. We’re tired. We want it over. We’re using you to negotiate ourselves out of an old mess.”

“But why me?”

“Because you’re a Petrova doppelgänger.”

Doppelgänger? An image from last night popped into Mackenzie’s mind when she heard the word. Was it possible that Elena from last night, with the dark dress and the dark mask, wasn’t actually Elena? No, it couldn’t be possible, because that would mean that Elena wasn’t crazy, nor were the people that were holding them in that old house, and that vampires existed. And vampires didn’t exist. Vampires weren’t real.

“You’re the key to breaking the curse,” Rose said.

“Curse? The sun and the moon curse?”

Did Elena know what that woman was talking about? Was Mackenzie the only person in the dark? Or the only sane person?

“You do know your history,” Rose nodded.

“What do you mean I’m the key? The moonstone is what breaks the curse.”

“No. The moonstone is what binds the curse. Sacrifice is what breaks it.”

“Sacrifice?” Elena breathed out, suddenly scared.

Finally, a rational reaction.

“The blood of the doppelgänger. You’re the doppelgänger. Which means, in order to break the curse, you’re the one that has to die,” Rose explained.

That finally shut Elena up. But it’s also what made Mackenzie speak up.

“You people are crazy,” she breathed out as she let go of Elena’s hand and started to walk towards the door.

She figured she could at least try to make a run for it. After all, they weren’t really vampires. They were just delusional people talking about curses and sacrifices. She just had to run fast, like she had never run before.

“Where do you think you’re going?” Rose asked. She didn’t sound angry, just a little annoy.

Mackenzie didn’t reply, she just started to walk a little faster. The vampire sighed and, a second later, was standing right in front of the human.

“Holy…” Mackenzie gasped.

Her heart skipped a beat, and her face turned white as if she had just seen a ghost.

“You don’t want to get out there,” she said, “if Elijah’s coming you might run into him outside and that won’t end well for you,” Rose said, and Mackenzie was surprised that she actually cared.

She stepped back, afraid of how close she was from the “vampire”. She jumped, frightened, when someone took her hand. It was Elena.

“It’s gonna be ok,” she said. “It’s me they want. You’ll be fine. I promise.”

Rose chuckled. “You shouldn’t make promises you can’t keep.”

Elena gave her a reproving look that the vampire shrugged away.

“Vampires don’t exist,” Mackenzie whispered.

“Yes. Yes, they do. I know it’s a shock, and I’ll explain everything later, okay, just, calm down, please.”

But Mackenzie didn’t want her to explain. She wanted to get the hell out of there. Away from them, all three of them.

“Let me go!”

“Mack…”

Rose didn’t give Elena a chance to calm Mackenzie down. She had no patience and thought she could stop the girl from causing any more problems. She knew an easy way to keep someone quiet. She put her hand on Mackenzie’s left shoulder and pushed her against the wall. The hard impact made the entire house shake. Mackenzie cried, both out of fear and pain. The vampire locked her eyes in hers and said: “Calm down. It’s gonna be fine.”

“Let go of me!” Mackenzie begged.

The vampire frowned. She looked confused. She looked at Elena who looked as confused as her.

“I said, calm down,” she tried again.

But Mackenzie wasn’t calming down. In fact, she was panicking even more.

“Why can’t she be compelled?” the vampire asked, in an angry tone.

“I have no idea,” Elena shook her head, asking herself the same question.

“What are you talking about?” Mackenzie cried.

“What are you?” Rose growled, squeezing the girl’s shoulders harder. But Mackenzie had no answer to give her.

Rose slowly leaned forward. Mackenzie was trembling and whimpering against the wall. She gasped when she felt the vampire’s nose on her neck. She heard Rose sniff several times.

“I never met a human who smelled like you,” she said. “Tell me. What are you?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she wailed.

“Let her go. She doesn’t know anything!” Elena told Rose.

Rose looked at the doppelgänger, contemplating the request. Eventually, she grew tired of hearing the girl’s cries and let go of her. Elena immediately rushed to Mackenzie.

“It’s gonna be okay.”

But no matter how many times Elena said it, Mackenzie didn’t believe her. The doppelgänger helped her up and tried to give her a reassuring smile. Mackenzie wasn’t having it. Elena took her hand again and followed Rose back in the room. Mackenzie reluctantly went with her. She would rather stay with the “not-so-crazy Elena” than alone in the hallway where Trevor could walk by at any moment.

Mackenzie was trying to understand the situation. Who would believe vampires were real? But how could she not believe it now? Now that she saw how fast and how strong Rose was. How every question Elena asked and every answer Rose gave made sense somehow. In a world different than hers. A world she had no idea she lived in.

Elena wasn’t giving up, she still had plenty of questions. And she wasn’t afraid of Rose, or maybe she was more afraid not to have answers.

“Tell me more.”

“Captivity’s made her pushy, eh?”

Mackenzie jumped when she heard Trevor’s voice behind her. She was lost deep in her thoughts and she hadn’t heard him join them in the dark room. She stepped forward, squeezing Elena’s hand harder, the way she did before, and placing her free hand on her arm, as if the only safe place in that house at the moment was behind Elena’s back.

“What do you wanna know, doppelicious?” he asked, taking a piece of cardboard and putting it against another window.

“Who are you running from?”

“The Originals.”

“Yeah. She said that. What does that mean?” Elena didn’t sound cocky anymore, she sounded impatient, and Mackenzie just listened, trying to calm herself down but it had the opposite effect. Listening to them and their horror stories was starting to make her physically sick.

“The first family. The Old World. Rose and I pissed them off.”

Rose cleared her throat in disagreement.

“Correction, I pissed them off. Rose had my back. And for over half a millennium, they’ve wanted us dead.”

“What did you do?”

“He made the same mistake countless others did. He trusted Katerina Petrova.”

“Katherine…” Elena let out in a whisper.

“The one and only. The first Petrova doppelgänger.”

“I helped her escape her fate. And I’ve… sorry, we’ve been marked ever since.”

“Which is why we’re not gonna make the same mistake again,” Rose said before she stepped out of the room and Trevor followed her, leaving the girls alone with their thoughts.

Elena sighed. She turned around towards Mackenzie who didn’t look well. She didn’t look well at all.

“Come one,” she said. “I’ll explain everything.”

Mackenzie wasn’t sure she wanted to hear it. The more she learnt, the sicker she felt. Her headache became more painful every time she asked herself a new question and every time she had an answer. She just wanted to go home. For once.

Elena led her out of the room and they walked quietly in the dirty hallways of the old house. Mackenzie was afraid to speak, she dreaded Elena’s next words.

As they reached the stairs and walked back to the room where they had woken up, the silence became too unbearable for Mackenzie and she finally asked her first question.

“So… Stefan is a… vampire?”

“Yes,” Elena nodded. “And his brother, Damon, too. So is Caroline.”

“Caroline? Forbes?”

It couldn’t be possible. She had first met the blonde when she was eight. Caroline was a year younger than her, they had been in the same schools, had played the same games, had met the same people. Even though they hadn’t spoken more than two words to each other, Mackenzie knew that Caroline was human. Just like she was.

“Yes. Katherine turned her.”

“Katherine is…”

“My… ancestor,” Elena explained. “She looks exactly like me. She’s a vampire. She’s… a psycho.”

“Your doppelgänger?”

“Yeah… it’s… a long story.”

“Was it her in the black dress at the party last night?”

“Yes,” Elena nodded. “Stefan and Damon had a plan to… stop her.”

“So… she’s dead?”

“Unfortunately, no,” Elena sighed.

“But, they stopped her?”

“Yeah. They did it to protect me. And the rest of the world,” she scoffed.

“… I thought… you and Stefan… I thought you two dated?”

“We did,” she nodded.

“Did you break up when you found out he was a vampire?”

“I did… but then we got back together.”

“But… don’t vampires… drink blood?”

“They do. Stefan doesn’t drink human blood.”

Mackenzie was surprised. “Can he do that?” Maybe not all vampires were kidnapping monsters. Maybe not all vampires wanted to sacrifice you to break a curse.

Elena chuckled. “Yeah, he can.”

They walked through the dusty room, Mackenzie’s long purple dress was sweeping off the place. When they reached the couch, Elena noticed a piece of paper that wasn’t there before. She took it and opened it: Stefan and Damon are coming for you. -B.

“What’s that?” Mackenzie asked.

“It’s a message from Bonnie. I told you we were gonna be fine.”

“Bonnie? H-how?”

Elena bit her lower lip and looked down.

“Oh God… what now?”

“Bonnie’s a witch.”

Mackenzie stared at Elena, she didn’t know what to do with the information. She didn’t know what to think at all. She only knew that she was terrified and that she was probably gonna die soon.

“Of course she is,” she breathed out as she sat on the couch.

“It’ll be easier with time,” Elena promised. “You’ll get used to the idea.”

Mackenzie knew she was right. It would never be easy, but just like the death of her mother, she would get used to the idea. She would learn to live with it. She just didn’t want to.

“What does… What was Rose trying to do, earlier?”

“You mean compel you?” Elena asked, and Mackenzie nodded. “Vampires can compel people. Make them think or do things against their will.” She brought a hand to her necklace. “Vervain prevents that.”

“Why can’t I be compelled?”

“I don’t know,” Elena frowned. “Supernatural creatures usually can’t be compelled.”

“But… I’m human.”

“I don’t know,” Elena repeated as she shrugged. “You’re the best person to know what you are.”

“I’m human,” Mackenzie said, sure of herself.

“Maybe you ate something with vervain in it,” Elena shrugged.

“That’s probably it…”

Rose entered the room with a bag and started to collect her things she had scattered around the room. Nobody said anything. Elena was waiting for Stefan and Damon to come rescue them. Mackenzie had plenty of things to think about, she had to reimagine the world she lived in, and Rose had nothing to say, she looked nervous.

After an hour, Trevor rushed into the room, completely panicked.

“He’s here! This was a mistake.”

Mackenzie’s heart skipped a beat. He meaning Elijah. He meaning her probable, violent and scary murderer.

“No, I told you I would take you out of this mess. You have to trust me.”

“No. He wants me dead, Rose!”

“He wants her more.”

“I can’t do this,” he said, pacing in the room like a mad man, “you give her to him. He’ll have mercy on you. But I need to get out of here!”

“Hey,” Rose said as she took his hands to try and calm him down, “what are we?”

Trevor took a deep breath. “We’re family. Forever.”

Suddenly, a noise resonated in the room. Someone was knocking on the front door. At the realization that a bigger, stronger, badder vampire was about to make his entrance, Mackenzie sat up and moved closer to Elena.

“You’re scared,” the doppelgänger said, as she saw the vampires’ faces.

That wasn’t reassuring at all.

“Stay here with them. And don’t make a sound,” Rose told Trevor before she walked up the stairs and disappeared in the other room.

Elena got up, too nervous to stay seated. Mackenzie was breathing heavily. She had never been more scared in her life, and she had had many reasons to be. But she knew that she could die a horrible death in the next hour and at that moment she wished she weren’t human, she wished she had some kind of power that would teleport her and Elena back to Mystic Falls.

The seconds felt like hours. They were barely breathing, waiting for Rose to come back. About ten minutes after she had left, Rose stepped back inside the room followed by a man in a suit. Elena and Mackenzie both instantly looked up as he appeared. He was looking right at the doppelgänger, like he couldn’t believe was he was seeing. Elena stepped protectively in front of Mackenzie. It’s her he wanted, after all.

One second, he was standing on top of the stairs, and the other he was right in front of Elena, just inches from her. Both girls gasped at the sudden apparition. Now, Elena was scared the same way Mackenzie had been all day.

He was looking at her as if she had killed his entire family, his dogs and their puppies. Elena’s body was quivering and she could barely breathe. She watched him warily as he moved closer to her and leaned forward to breathe her in.

But even though he was trying to focus on the doppelgänger, he couldn’t help but notice a stronger, more appealing, different, and new smell. He tilted his head on the side and saw the terrified girl on the couch behind Elena. She couldn’t have looked any more frightened. She was shaking with fear, and he could hear her heart pounding hard in her chest. He caught her wet brown eyes in his and fear made it impossible for her to look away.

“What do we have here?” he smirked.

“She was with the doppelgänger when we took her,” Rose explained. “We had to bring her with us.”

“Why does she smell so good?” he asked Rose, but he was still looking at Mackenzie.

In his long life, he had never met someone who smelled like her.

“We don’t know. She’s probably not human.”

“Why do you say that?”

“She can’t be compelled.”

“Really?” he said, he sounded and looked a bit surprised.

“She thinks she’s human,” Rose added. “She didn’t know vampires existed before today.”

“Interesting.”

He focused a little while longer on the unlucky girl. Mackenzie felt like she was about to pass out. She was more scared of him than she had been of Rose and Trevor. Though, at that moment, he didn’t look like he wanted to hurt her. He looked like he had a few questions for her. She hoped he wouldn’t ask them because she had no answer to give him, and that wasn’t a situation she imagined would end well.

“Hello there,” he said smugly with a mischievous grin.

Surprised, Mackenzie blinked several times. She pressed herself against the couch, wishing she could disappear inside it.

Elijah looked at her, watched her tremble with fear, listened to her fast heartbeat, breathed in her delicious scent, and explored her face with his eyes. She was a beautiful girl, he had no doubt, even in her dirty purple dress, with her messy brown hair, the tears running down her cheeks and the mascara stains under her eyes. To Mackenzie, it looked like he was debating whether or not he was going to eat her now or keep her for later.

After what seemed like hours spent in a terrifying and somewhat uncomfortable silence, Elijah finally focused back on the matter at hand and reluctantly brought his attention back to Elena. She smelled like a human, her heart beat like a human’s; she was a human.

Once he was certain that he had never met her before, that she wasn’t Katerina, a content smile appeared on his face, as if he was proud, or merely pleased.

“Human,” he said, surprise clear in his voice.

He turned around towards Rose and nodded.

“You didn’t lie.”

“She’s yours.”

“Well,” he smiled, as he turned back towards Elena. “We have a long journey ahead of us. We should be going.”

Mackenzie worriedly looked up at Elena. There was no sign of Stefan and Damon, nobody there to help them.

“Please, don’t let him take me,” Elena begged Rose.

The vampire looked away, as if she were ashamed of herself. She wouldn’t be doing it if she had another choice.

“One last piece of business, and we’re done,” Elijah said, completely ignoring Elena’s pleas.

He stepped away from her and turned around towards Trevor who looked terrified. Elijah was walking around him, listening to his apologies.

“I’ve waited so long for this day, Elijah. I’m truly very sorry.”

“Oh, no, your apology is not necessary,” Elijah told him.

Mackenzie watched carefully as the Original vampire circled around Trevor like a shark around its prey. He didn’t look angry, he was smiling, as if he was amused.

“Yes. Yes, it is,” Trevor insisted. “You trusted me with Katerina and I failed you.”

“Well, yes, you are the guilty one,” Elijah nodded as he walked passed him. “And Rose aided you because she was loyal to you,” he said, as he looked up at her. “That, I honor.”

He stopped in front of Trevor, he was still smiling, as if the situation was somehow funny.

“Where was your loyalty?”

“I beg your forgiveness,” Trevor told Elijah, as he looked up at him with scared eyes.

There was a moment of silence, during which the vampires and the girls waited for the Original’s answer with anticipation.

“So granted.”

Mackenzie watched as Trevor smiled, relieved, right before Elijah slapped him so hard that he cut his head off. It happened extremely fast. Elijah moved, then, there was a gross “splash” like in the movies, and Trevor’s headless body fell on the ground.

Mackenzie gasped with horror as Trevor’s body hit the dirty floor and blood spilled out of the vampire’s neck. She couldn’t look away as a pool of blood grew larger by the second where Trevor’s head should have been. She felt like she was going to throw up or pass out, or both. She couldn’t breathe. Her ears were ringing, and she could barely hear Rose moan and cry.

“You…” the vampire groaned with anger. She was shocked and furious and all she wanted to do at that moment was kill the Original vampire, but she knew very well that wasn’t possible.

“Don’t, Rose,” Elijah said calmly, “now that you are free.”

More tears fell down Mackenzie’s cheeks, though she was crying out of fear unlike Rose who felt betrayed, lost and stupid for trusting an Original vampire.

Elijah fixed his sleeves and made sure there wasn’t a drop of blood on his suit before he held his hand to Elena and instructed her to follow him.

“Come.”

“No, what about the moonstone?” she said in a panic, hoping it would win some time for Stefan and Damon to come and rescue the day. She saw Elijah looked interested.

“What do you know about the moonstone?” he asked.

“I know that you need it. And I know where it is.”

“Yes?” he nodded, encouraging her to continue.

“I can help you get it.”

“Tell me where it is,” he simply said.

“It doesn’t work that way,” Elena told him.

Elijah was both surprised and amused by the doppelgänger’s behavior. He didn’t know if she was being brave, or just plain stupid.

“Are you negotiating with me?” he asked Elena before he turned around towards Rose.

“It’s the first I’ve heard of it,” she told him.

Elijah turned back towards Elena, looking for her eyes, but noticed she couldn’t be compelled. His eyes fell on her necklace and he raised an eyebrow.

“What is this vervain doing around your neck?” he said, angrily, before he took it and threw it across the room. “Tell me where the moonstone is,” he compelled her.

“In the tomb, underneath the church ruins,” she complied.

“What is it doing there?”

“It’s with Katherine.”

“Interesting.”

Mackenzie was still staring at Trevor lying headless in a pool of his own blood. She wasn’t hearing anything, just a loud silence. Her mind was empty. She wasn’t thinking about anything, she wasn’t feeling anything. She was just staring, not even seeing. She didn’t hear the sound of broken glass coming from the other side of the house which distracted Elijah who let go of Elena.

“What is that?” he asked Rose.

“I don’t know.”

“Who else is in this house?”

“I don’t know.”

Elijah grabbed Elena by her left arm and gestured Mackenzie to get up. She didn’t even see him. He saw her pale face and knew she was going to be sick. He followed her gaze and sighed when his eyes landed on Trevor. He guessed he could just leave her there. She wasn’t any threat to him and he could come back for her after he got rid of whoever had broken into the house. After all, if she stayed there, she wouldn’t see him kill any more people, and that would probably be for the best.

Screams and other loud noises could be heard inside the house. It lasted about five minutes, not that Mackenzie could have known that. She wasn’t paying attention. Maybe she fell asleep. Maybe her brain shut down. Her eyes were still on Trevor. Actually, they were on the blood. She was just seeing the blood.

At some point she felt a hand on her left arm and started to hear a buzzing noise. The noise became clearer by the seconds. It was a woman’s voice. She had a British accent. She was speaking loudly but she had to repeat herself several times to get an answer.

“Little girl! Wake up! Your friends are leaving!”

When Mackenzie looked up, there was no one there. She took a deep breath and tears fell down her cheeks when she looked up and became aware of her surroundings again. She was still in that room. She hated that room.

Elena appeared at the top of the stairs with Stefan. Mackenzie tried to stand up but, as soon as she was on her feet, the room started to spin and she could feel herself fall over. She expected to hit the floor, but instead she felt someone sweep her off her feet and the last thing she saw before everything went dark was Elena’s worried face.

When Mackenzie woke up, for the second time that day, she was in her bedroom. It was a clean room, with white walls and a wooden floor. She was lying on her bed in her dirty purple dress. She was panicked and breathing heavily. She sat up and quickly looked around the room to make sure she was alone. It was dark, but the lights from the streets were enough to allow her to spot a piece of paper on her night table. She took it with a shaky hand.

Come to us if you have any questions. Elijah is dead. I am so sorry. -E

She stared at the note like it was contaminated with the plague. On one hand, she was relieved that Elijah was dead, on the other hand, it confirmed that day had really happened and it wasn’t just a dream.

A spark appeared in the middle of the room, and for an instant Mackenzie thought she was hallucinating. That was until the note caught fire on its own. She gasped as she let go of the paper which fell back on her bed sheet. She backed away, pressing her back against the wall, and watched it consume itself. It wasn’t a normal fire. It didn’t spread to the sheet, and it didn’t even burn her. It felt warm, but it didn’t feel threatening. The note was gone and only smoke remained. There weren’t even any ashes.

The smell of burned paper invaded the room as Mackenzie realized her stepfather wasn’t the scariest man in the world anymore. Now, she had to fear vampires, witches, and maybe even herself.

Tags: @thepoet1975 @nerdysandwichqueen @catchmeupimgettingoutofhere @goldenchemistry @raegan-hale @captainam-erika-trash @silver424 @monetfatalia @vaniileiinkeks @valeria-winchester @favimag @colie87 @hamiltonmadesomemistakes @s0nh4dorasblog @poemfreak306 @white-chocolate-mocha-fan @thegingerthatwaited @therealwatermelon @dark-night-sky-99 @aubri1313 @jardinsecos @gymnastgal1997-blog @vaniileiinkeks

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[sacredandstrange]

Sacrament of Filth

Our story takes place in some European kingdom, at some point in the semi-distant past. People travel in carriages. But at the same time our lovely heroine - Cecilia - is wearing glasses without appearing too anachronistic. So let’s say it’s around the late 18th century, give or take half a century.

Our tale concerns two very determined miscreants, a male and a female. The male’s name is Nick, and he is the consummate scoundrel. The female’s name is Cecilia. She is a scoundrel also, but you wouldn’t know it from looking at her. She’s ravishingly beautiful, for one thing. And has the appearance of being innocent. Although if you examine her closely you’ll see a mischievous gleam in her eye. Nick once compared her to a lily with thorns.

So this pair of miscreants is traveling by carriage and leaving a swath of crime and decadence across the countryside. They’re like Bonnie and Clyde. Or better yet, Countess Bathory and the Marquis de Sade, if those two evildoers ever joined forces. The two are riding along and then the carriage breaks down. The horse runs off from the broken harness and Nick jokes about saddling up Cecilia. She sneers at this suggestion but Nick lets the crude statement hang in the air, like an unexcused belch.

At that point the devilish duo happen across a priest and a nun who are also traveling by carriage. Nick and Cecilia rob the priest and nun, stripping them of their holy vestments, and steal their carriage. Nick jumps in front and gives the horse a crack of the whip, leaving the nun and priest behind in a cloud of dust. Cecilia masturbates inside the carriage with a crucifix. The bumpy road causes her to wince sharply.

Now that the devilish pair are in possession of the priest’s carriage they find a document on board that explains that the priest and nun were en route to the next village where they were to take up office in a small church. The congregation in this village has been without spiritual guidance for several weeks and are in danger of falling from God’s grace. If a priest doesn’t arrive post haste, the whole town will be damned.

Nick and Cecilia, scoundrels that they are, decide upon a caper. They take off their highway clothes and don the holy vestments. Nick’s eye roves over Cecilia in her nun’s habit. Something about seeing his pale cohort outfitted in holy garb makes his heart thump harder. Nick’s no slouch either and he looks dashing in the priest’s vestments. The devilish duo rename themselves. From now on they are Father Nick and Sister Cecilia.

Father Nick and Sister Cecilia drive the stolen carriage to the next village, arriving in the early morning, just before dawn. They find a key to the church in the priest’s possessions and let themselves inside. The church is dark and silent. Nick has the invigorating sense of seeing a field of freshly fallen snow. The place is so pure, so pristine. He cannot wait to leave his mark. He walks up to a bowl of holy water at one side of the entrance. Having been raised Catholic, Nick knows that churchgoers have a custom of dipping their fingers in the holy water and making the sign of the cross on their foreheads as they enter the house of God. Sister Cecilia snickers as Nick lifts his vestments and urinates in the bowl of holy water, turning the clear water yellow.

Sister Cecilia, not one to be outdone, takes a bowl of holy water from an alcove on the other side of the entrance, and sets it on the floor. She lifts her nun’s gown and drops into a squat. Nick watches as a stream of hot piss sprays from her cunt, filling the bowl to the rim. The scent of urine hangs in the air like incense.

They replace the bowls of holy water in their alcoves and enter the church. As they walk up to the altar Sister Cecilia complains that she needs to shit. She is casting her eye about, looking for the bathroom, when Father Nick suggests that she relieve herself in the golden chalice that sits upon the altar. Sister Cecilia is happy to humor him.

Father Nick takes great delight in watching this operation. It occurs to him then that he has found his calling. He is a man of God. Not a Christian God. But a God of Filth and Chaos and Slime and Danger and Decadence and Darkness and the Endless Yawning Abyss.

Did I mention Filth?

Sister Cecilia fills the chalice with her sacred soil and Father Nick sets the holy relic back upon the altar. But now they are presented with the problem of how to clean Sister Cecilia’s butthole. 

Father Nick, ever the innovator, finds a stack of Bibles and tears a page from each. He uses these torn pages to wipe Sister Cecilia’s ass. He is exceedingly gentle, but the vellum pages crackle like flames as he cleans her. The sensation, like so many other sensations that visit Sister Cecilia, causes her to wince with discomfort. Father Nick, who is a tiny bit sadistic, enjoys these expressions as they flicker over her beautiful face.

Each page of holy scripture, now stained with excrement, is tucked back inside the Bible that it was torn from. It takes perhaps two dozen pages to clean Sister Cecilia properly. Thus two dozen Bibles have been “blessed” in this novel manner. Father Nick takes special care to place the Bibles in the pews, where the hymnals are held, so that the churchgoers can have access to them later.

The stained glass windows begin to fill with sunlight. Soon it will be time for Mass. But there is another dilemma that must be dealt with. The sight of Sister Cecilia shitting into the chalice and the subsequent wiping of her ass with pages torn from Bibles has stirred Father Nick’s passions to a frenzy.

Understanding that her cohort is in dire need of release, Sister Cecilia reaches into Nick’s vestments and pulls out his erect penis, which is quite beautiful and fine to look it, resembling in a way a Bishop’s scepter. She sucks on it until Father Nick declares that he is about to cum. Then she rushes to find a plate full of hosts, the pieces of stale bread that double as the Body of Christ. Holding the plate of hosts underneath Nick’s throbbing cock, she jerks him off and catches the leaping strands of semen. She turns the plate this way and that, so that each host is anointed with the warm sticky fluid.

At that point there is a loud knock at the door. Father Nick and Sister Cecilia realize that Mass is about to begin. They hatch a plan. Father Nick, whose brain still holds vestiges of his Catholic upbringing, will do his best to hold Mass. Sister Cecilia will watch from a secret place, being sure to be “on call” should her talents be needed. She goes and hides behind a velvet curtain.

Father Nick opens the doors, welcoming the churchgoers and introducing himself as the new priest. The villagers, a rather dull lot, more reminiscent of sheep or livestock than intelligent beings, file inside. Sister Cecilia searches in vain for a trace of light in their glassy eyes. As the villagers walk through the entrance they dip their fingers in the desecrated holy water and make the sign of the cross on their foreheads. They crinkle their noses and sniff at the scent of urine. They chalk it up to the water being stale from the church not holding service in several weeks.

Their faces dripping with piss they take their seats among the pews. Father Nick proceeds to launch into a spontaneous sermon that has very little in common with the spiel the villagers normally hear in their place of worship. Their faces are twisted in expressions of befuddlement. Father Nick rambles on, oblivious to their expectations.

Barely five minutes into the service Father Nick says he will now give the churchgoers the Body of Christ. He proceeds to walk down the aisles handing out the semen anointed hosts. He is insistent that each and every person take the host upon their tongue. He won’t take no for answer. To deny the host is to deny the will of God. His God. The God of Filth and Danger and Darkness and so on.

The churchgoers chew the desecrated hosts and make sour expressions. Something is plainly wrong, but Father Nick is so insistent that they swallow the foul morsels.

“Now, my adorable dolts and doltesses,” Father Nick booms in his stentorian voice. “I command you to take up your Bibles and turn to page Six-Hundred and Sixty Six!!!”

The churchgoers do just that and encounter the torn pages smeared with Sister Cecilia’s feces. They begin to howl with indignation and shake their fat fists at the pulpit. This man is no priest, they cry out. He is a rotten impostor! Meanwhile Sister Cecilia covers her mouth behind the curtain. She can barely contain her laughter.

The churchgoers are making a ruckus. What’s more, they are conjecturing just how Father Nick should be punished. There is talk of hanging the impostor priest, having him drawn and quartered, even drowning him in the village well.

“And now my docile piglets, I will give you an honor which you barely deserve, which is to gaze upon the delicate beauty of my ally in all things uncouth. I reveal to you...Sister Cecilia!”

Sister Cecilia steps from behind the velvet curtain. She has slipped out of her nun’s gown, so that her naked beauty is fully revealed. The only trace of her earlier identity is her nun’s habit, which is still upon her head, and her stylish glasses, which vaguely resemble feline eyes. Father Nick grins. Though he has been Sister Cecilia’s ally and cohort for a while now, he hasn’t yet lost, nor will he ever lose, his astonishment at her ethereal beauty. Her pale skin, her comet shaped eyebrows, her petulant lips, painted with a beguiling shade of dark purple lipstick, all of these things conspire to enchant him. It is as much to impress her as himself that he has thrown himself so heartily into this caper.

The crowd of churchgoers gasp when they see the naked beauty emerge from behind the curtain. The sight of the nun’s habit on Sister Cecilia’s head is too much for their minds to process. They rush from the building, shouting hoarsely and promising revenge.

There is only one of their number left in the pews, a young man who looks like a farmhand. Sister Cecilia grins at him diabolically. She can see that he is struck dumb by her beauty, like a mouse that is trapped in a cobra’s gaze.

“And now for the final sacrament!” Father Nick bellows. “The Sacrament of Filth!”

“Come forward, young man!” he shouts. The young man sheepishly steps forward.

“Kneel!!!” Father Nick shouts, pointing at the top step.

The young man does as Father Nick commands.

“Young man, today is the greatest day of your life. For today you will gaze upon the Face of God!”

Sister Cecilia casts a glance in Father Nick’s direction and sees that his dick is rock hard beneath his vestments.

Father Nick motions for Sister Cecilia to come forward and indicates that she should get down on all fours. She does just that. In this position her butt is aimed in the young man’s direction. She takes a devilish pleasure in knowing that he can see her pussy and ass.

“Gaze in rapture upon God’s Divine Visage!” Father Nick intones with solemn reverence.

“Behold the All Seeing Eye!” he shouts, pressing the tip of his finger to Sister Cecilia’s puckered anus. Her flesh quivers at the touch.

“Behold the Ravenous Sideways Smile!”

Father Nick lets his finger drop to the opening of her cunt, in which a sliver of pink flesh can be plainly seen. The lips of this “sideways smile” are oozing with cream, like the sloppy mouth of a drooling fool.

“Now kiss the Holy Face of God!”

The young man inches forward and puts his face in Sister Cecilia’s ass crack. His nose rubs against her anus while his tongue extends and takes a tentative lick at her dripping cunt.

“That’s it!” Father Nick says happily. “Show your reverence!”

Sister Cecilia moans as she feels the young man’s tongue clean the dripping cream from her cunt, and she whimpers as his long tongue dips into her tight hole.

“Don’t forget to pay homage to the All Seeing Eye…” Father Nick says and points at Sister Cecilia’s anus.

The young man happily complies and tongues Sister Cecilia’s ass with rapturous devotion. Sister Cecilia sighs blissfully. The feeling of the young man’s tongue fills her with a pleasure that is almost too much to bare. As the farmhand licks her anus she feels a grumble in her stomach.

“This innocent fellow’s conversion to our faith is almost complete…” Father Nick whispers in her ear. “Play along and his soul will be ours!”

Sister Cecilia nods and whispers okay. Father Nick - or Nick rather - is the more depraved of the two of them, but there is something about his enthusiasm that lifts her up and pulls her along. She is happy to do whatever it takes to make the moment more memorable.

Father Nick puts his hand underneath her, placing it on her stomach. Then he gently pushes upward, compressing it. Sister Cecilia stifles a giggle as she feels a blast of air being expelled from her anus.

Father Nick watches as the young man sits back on his ass, stupefied. His eyelashes flutter in the fragrant breeze. Father Nick is envious of the young man, who is obviously having a religious experience.

Just when it seemed that things couldn’t get any better, Father Nick spies a smudge of excrement, newly emergent from Sister Cecilia’s anus. He gathers this smudge up on his finger and then uses the shit to draw the sign of the cross on the young man’s forehead.

“Is it Ash Wednesday?” the young man asks.

"Shit Sunday!” Father Nick cries happily.

I think it can be said that our friend Nick is a special sort of scoundrel. More than a scoundrel he is a connoisseur of chaos and a lover of dark delights. Witnessing his transgressions Sister Cecilia would sometime ask: Is there anyone more depraved on the planet? Let us ask the Magic 8 Ball. We shake the enigmatic object, turn it over, and watch as a tiny hexagon floats up from the depths to press its answer against the glass. “My Sources Say No.”

At that point a great clamor arises outside the church. There is sound like the crackling of vellum pages. Suddenly a reddish light fills the stained glass windows. The villagers have set the church on fire.

The townsfolk, so filled with hate for anything outside their narrow worldview, are determined to punish the wrongdoers. So determined, in fact, that they are willing to let one of their own - the feckless young farmhand - die in the process.

Father Nick notices that the young man is still staring at Sister Cecilia’s ass and pussy. He is so enthralled with the benevolent face of God that he hasn’t noticed - or just doesn’t care - that he is about to be burned to a crisp.

“Well, my dear…” Father Nick says to Sister Cecilia, “...we both knew this day would come. The moment of our comeuppance.”

“It was worth every moment…” Sister Cecilia hisses and farts again, as if in celebration. Father Nick gives her a kiss.

The flames are filling the windows and smoke starts rising from the walls. It’s only a matter of time until the fire takes them.

“My apologies, young man,” Father Nick says solemnly. Sister Cecilia hears a trace of regret in her cohort’s voice. “I had meant to expose you to a new way of being, not condemn you to a punishment you don’t deserve.”

“I, too, say it’s worth it…” the young man mumbles, staring at Sister Cecilia’s puckered anus and dripping cunt.

“Well, we might as well make the best of whatever time we have left…” Father Nick suggests, “...and fuck this fine lass. Let’s see if we can make her cum before we all plummet to the depths of Hell.”

The young man agrees and he and Father Nick set about fucking Sister Cecilia. They knock the chalice off the altar and lay her on the surface. Then they each take turns plowing her holes. Nick fucks her ass while the farmhand fucks her face. Then they switch, and switch again, and again, and yet again, fucking her in as many configurations as they can before the flames engulf them. True to Nick’s word, they bring her to the point of orgasm. Not only once but many times.

Sister Cecilia’s screams of passion mingle with the roaring flames. On her umpteenth time cumming she opens her eyes and aims up gaze upward, where it falls upon the face of Christ nailed to the Cross. The savior is looking down upon them with an expression that is hard to interpret. Is it extreme disgust? Or is it worry about their fate? Sister Cecilia can’t tell.

As her eyes imploringly search the sad eyes of Jesus she notices that he is crying. But it isn’t tears of water that come from his wooden eyes. It is tears of blood.

Streams of red pour down Christ’s face as he watches Sister Cecilia get fucked. These streams of blood run down his chest and stain his loincloth. They run to the base of the Cross and begin to pool in a glistening puddle.

Sister Cecilia can barely concentrate for the feeling of cocks pounding her cunt and ass. The young man is below her, plowing her pussy. Nick is behind her, fucking her ass. Her devilish cohort is fucking her so hard it feels like his dick is going to come out of her mouth. She is on the verge of cumming yet again when she sees something appear in the puddle of blood underneath Christ’s feet.

She thinks at first that it’s a trick of the flames reflected in the pool’s surface, but it is something else entirely. A figure is rising from the pool. This figure is tall and muscular and dripping with blood. It has a head like a goat’s and a tail like a dragon.

“Satan…” she mutters.

“That is neither Satan nor Lucifer nor Pan,” Nick explains between grunting thrusts. “The figure you see before you is the bestial nature of Man incarnate.”

“Give her to me….” the sinister figure says in a voice so low it makes Sister Cecilia’s belly shake.

Sister Cecilia looks down between the figure’s legs and sees a cock so large it cannot possibly fit inside her.

“Give her to me and I will save the three of you from the flames....”

The hellish glow of the fire is all around them. Sister Cecilia realizes with a jolt of terror that the entire building is aflame. The altar that they are fucking on is the last object in the church not yet totally engulfed in fire. And even this is beginning to burn. The heat around them is making the air waver.

Sister Cecilia swallows a lump in her throat.

“Okay…” she whispers. “I’ll do it. I’ll let the bestial nature of Man have its way with my flesh.”

The beautiful thing about fantasy is that the impossible can be made possible, even if it causes the scornful to scoff. Thus it was that Sister Cecilia was able to accept the monstrous dick, even though it dwarfed her physical frame. Was it comfortable? No, not at all. It hurt like the devil, you could say.

Father Nick stroked her cheek and kissed away her tears. And then, when it became apparent that the act wasn’t going to kill her, he and the feckless farmhand joined in and the three of them fucked her every which way. And because Sister Cecilia had a “certain aesthetic,” she made sure to keep her nun’s habit on the entire time.

And what about the flames, you ask? They continued to climb. They climbed until they engulfed the altar entirely. They climbed until they engulfed the bodies of the bestial figure, the feckless farmhand, and Nick and Cecilia. And yet the fornicators remained unharmed. Such is the power of Evil.

When Sister Cecilia orgasmed for the final time her raucous scream mingled with the roar of the flames. The two sounds were indistinguishable. What’s more, jets of flame shot out of her mouth and eyes. She had become a being of pure light.

When the flames finally subsided there was no trace left of the fornicators. Just a smoldering pile of blackened wood and wisps of smoke that sighed as they spooled through the air.