The Vampire Diaries - Blog Posts

The Day Before ✢ Damon Salvatore ✢ Part Two

Synopsis: The reader knows she is dying, and to save Damon from the pain of her death, she makes an extremely difficult decision. However, the aftermath of this decision takes a great toll on Damon and the people who know him. Damon Salvatore x Reader, female pronouns. Platonic!Stefan Salvatore x Reader. Platonic!Caroline Forbes x Reader. Warnings: Angst, Death.  Notes: This is part two to a one-shot I posted a while ago, this piece will not make much sense without having read it. 

Masterlist |Part One

Words: 1,859

Stefan could tell something was awry the moment he stepped through the doors of the old boarding house. The air inside was palpable, as if every molecule was weighed down with a tension — a stillness that pressed against his heightened senses, thick and unnatural. Damon was sitting in front of the fireplace, his silhouette stark against the warm glow of the flames, though there was nothing warm about this scene. His posture, Stefan noted, usually so full of restless energy, was eerily composed. Too composed. His gaze was fixed ahead, unblinking, the light flickering in his eyes was like a dull echo of something that had long since burned out.

Stefan took a careful breath; he was not sure why, but his instincts screamed that something was wrong.

The blood on Damon’s hands was subtle at first, easy to miss, but it did not take long for the dried crimson to catch Stefan’s eye, it crept up Damon’s knuckles, stark and seeped within the crevices of his pale, illuminated skin.

‘Damon?’ 

Stefan called out, his voice cautious, wary, like he was approaching a predator lying in wait. But there was no answer. Damon did not so much as flinch, his expression a mask of chilling indifference, eyes as lifeless as the logs slowly burning to cinder before him.

Stefan swallowed hard, the dread inside him growing heavier by the second. 

‘Damon,’ he repeated, stepping closer, his shoes tapping softly against the hardwood floor. He kept his voice calm, but he struggled to hide the tension underneath. 

‘What happened?’

For a moment, it was as if Damon had not even heard him. He remained silent, his face void of any feeling; it was as if he was not even present in the room—like his body was there, but his mind, his soul, had retreated somewhere unreachable. The lack of reaction was more terrifying than any outburst, more unnerving than any fit of rage. Damon, who thrived on conflict, on drama, was sitting there… deadened.

Stefan clenched his fists, trying to keep his voice steady, but he couldn’t suppress his rising panic. 

‘Damon, talk to me. What did you do?’ 

Stefan’s gaze shifted, once again glancing at the blood-encrusted upon the hands of his brother. 

Still nothing. It was as though Stefan’s words were dissolving into the suffocating silence of the room. And then, finally, Damon’s eyes flickered, just barely. He turned his head slowly toward his brother, his movements languid, almost robotic. When he spoke, his voice was hollow, stripped of the usual sarcasm and wit that would linger in his tone. It was flat and mechanical. 

‘I did what I had to.’

Stefan’s heart pounded in his chest, his mind racing. That lifeless tone, the vacant look in his eyes—it was all too familiar. He had seen this before. Damon had turned it off. He had flipped the switch, shut down his emotions, locked away everything that made him… him. Stefan’s stomach twisted with dread.

‘No,’ Stefan whispered, more to himself than to Damon. His pulse quickened, the realisation like a slap to the face, stinging and sharp. Damon had turned it off, but why? What had driven him to this point? What had happened?

He took a step closer, his voice firmer now, though his urgency seeped through. 

‘Damon, what did you do?’

Damon did not respond immediately. His gaze drifted lazily back upon the flames, as if Stefan’s question was of no consequence, as if nothing mattered anymore. 

‘What I had to,’ he repeated, his voice cold and empty, devoid of the fire that usually burned beneath his words. 

‘What I needed to. It doesn’t matter now.’

Stefan’s hands twitched, frustration boiling beneath his skin. He could feel Caroline approaching behind them, her presence like a ripple disturbing an already tense atmosphere. He did not turn to look at her, but he could feel her eyes on Damon, wide and fearful.

‘Damon?’  She whispered, her voice soft, hesitant, as though she was afraid to speak too loudly. She took a cautious step forward, her gaze shifting between the brothers. 

‘What’s going on? Why—' She broke off, noticing the dried blood on his hands. Her face paled. 

‘Why do you have blood on your hands?’

Stefan shook his head slightly, his thoughts racing. He felt sick; unease crawled up his spine in an icy shiver.

‘He’s turned it off,’ he muttered, his voice barely audible.

Caroline’s breath hitched, her eyes growing wide with alarm. 

‘No…’ Her voice was thick with fear as she looked at Damon, whose expression remained indifferent as if none of this concerned him. 

‘Why? Why would he do that? What happened?’

Stefan’s heart dropped. The pieces were falling into place, but he did not want to believe it. He did not want to accept what Damon’s cold demeanour was screaming to him, wordless. He needed to see Y/N.

Damon stood up slowly, his movements deliberate, his eyes not even bothering to focus on Stefan or Caroline. 

‘I wouldn’t wait for her,’ he said, his voice flat, devoid of any emotion as he turned toward the door. Stefan shuddered, it was as though Damon was in his head, maybe he had been. Then his body tensed, Damon's words registering with him; a rush of panic flooded his system. 

‘Damon, what did you do?’

He did not answer. Without another word, Damon disappeared in a blur of supernatural speed, the door slamming shut behind him with an ominous finality. The room fell into a suffocating silence once more, but now the silence was darker, heavier with the weight of what they did not know. What they did not want to know.

Caroline’s voice trembled as she turned toward Stefan.

‘What does he mean? Stefan, what happened?’

Stefan clenched his jaw, his chest tightening as dread settled over him. They needed to find out.

The sun was setting as Stefan and Caroline approached Y/N’s home, as they got closer, it became apparent what was wrong, it hung in the air like an unspoken fact, they knew there was only one thing that could push Damon to this state, one event that could force him over the edge. Neither of them wanted to admit what it meant; they evaded this truth so its awful pending reality could not hurt them, but the silence around the house was heavy with foreboding.

‘Do you smell that?’ 

Caroline asked, her voice shaking as she stepped inside the house, the faint scent of blood hitting her like a physical blow.

The knot in his stomach tightened as they ventured deeper into her house, everything was still and quiet; his senses told him no one was there, but the lingering smell of blood stood in sharp juxtaposition, unmistakable and overwhelming. Every creak of the floorboards, every gush of the wind against the windows, seemed so much louder with the absence of life; it felt like a warning.

The bedroom door was left slightly ajar, and Stefan hesitated, his palm on the handle, before pushing it open. 

His breath caught in his throat.

There, crumpled on the floor, lay Y/N’s confronting form, still and cold, her skin as spectral as the moonlight now filtering in through the curtains. Her hair was splayed out across the floor, and her eyes were gently shut, as though she were only sleeping, but the sight was uncanny, they would never open again. Her limbs were unmoving, her chest motionless, and the scent of blood, stronger now, lingered around her like a haunting reminder of what had happened.

Caroline gasped, stumbling back as tears sprang to her eyes. They had already known this, but they did not want to believe it; the confrontation had been too much to behold.

“No... no, no, no...” she whispered, her voice breaking as she brought her hands to her face. 

“Oh my God, Stefan…”

Stefan could not speak. He stumbled forward and dropped to his knees beside the girl, his hands shaking as he reached out to touch her. Her skin was cold, by now, the warmth of her vibrant life was long gone, perpetually a memory. His throat tightened, his chest heaving with a deep, aching sense of loss. 

Not only was she his brother’s love, but a friend of his own, and he had cared for her deeply. Y/N had made his brother happy in a way he had never known, a fact he was grateful for, but she had also been there for him, her kindness and compassion knowing no bounds. 

He stroked her hair and tucked it behind her ear, while a terrible burn at the base of his throat rose and shifted into a choked sob. He realised at once that she must have died alone.

And Damon had found her like this, horribly sallow and confronting.

He must have tried to save her; Stefan’s eyes numbly caught the dried blood upon her lips. He had given her his blood, but it had been too late. The emptiness within Damon’s eyes, the cold detachment—it made more sense now. Damon had not just lost her. This was not just death. 

He had failed her.

‘She was trying to leave,’ Caroline whispered through her tears, her gaze locked on the half-packed suitcase on the bed. She was trying to look anywhere but the girl lying lifeless on the hard floor.

‘I think she knew she was dying... and she didn’t tell us.’

Stefan closed his eyes, the weight of this truth crashing down upon him, she had knowingly left without a goodbye. Damon had found her like this. He had tried to save her. And when he was unable, when he finally realised he was too late, it had ruined him. The love he had for her, the hope he had surely held onto—only made this so much worse. Stefan found himself wishing he had been there for him, even if it did not change anything, and he imagined it would not have, Damon would still be gone now. 

His chest ached with the knowledge that his brother, despite not being there at the time, would have felt every second of her death because he could not save her. Damon had turned off his humanity because the idea of living without her had been too painful. It had destroyed him.

Caroline wiped her eyes, and her voice trembled with fear. 

‘What are we going to do? If Damon has no humanity... Stefan, he’s dangerous.’

Stefan’s fists clenched, and his mind raced. Damon had always been volatile, but this was different. He had nothing left to lose now. 

‘We have to find him,’ Stefan said, voice steady despite the turmoil inside him. 

‘Before he does something he can’t take back.’

But his words were meaningless, as he glanced towards Y/N’s desolate corpse, Stefan could not shake the gnawing fear, or rather, the fact that it was already too late. Y/n was dead, and Damon had gone with her. He leaned down, placing a soft kiss on her forehead in farewell, knowing full well that he was kissing his brother goodbye along with her.

Every comment and piece of advice is welcomed and appreciated <3

Author's Note: I have written a second part to this one-shot that I posted many moons ago, here is a quick reblog to hopefully get it into circulation again before the new part is posted. I never planned for a second part, but it kind of happened anyway and I think it works well. I thought it would be fun to explore the aftermath of this event, and how it would affect some of the characters of Mystic Falls. Keep in tune! It should be up within the next day or so.

The Day Before ➳ Damon Salvatore x TerminallySick!reader One-Shot

Synopsis: The reader knows she is dying and to save Damon the pain of her death she makes an extremely difficult decision.

Damon Salvatore x Fem!Reader

WARNINGS: Angst, Death. 

Masterlist

A/N: This is my first time writing for Damon Salvatore, hopefully this is the first of many.

Words: 1,538

Keep reading

Ephemeral ✢ Elijah Mikaelson

Synopsis: Elijah Mikaelson reflects on how knowing Y/N L/N has transformed his centuries-old existence. As he battles his deep feelings for her, he grapples with the stark reality of their pivotal difference: he is an immortal vampire, and she is a fragile human.

Elijah Mikaelson x Reader, female pronouns. Warnings: Angst. Words: 1,549k Blog Masterlist

Elijah Mikaelson stood before the grand windows of his family’s ornate home, the cool evening air shifting past the open panels to brush against his skin as he gazed out into a darkening sky. He recalled the countless nights he must have done exactly this, looked out at the same unchanging ether; and he wondered how it could look so different now that he knew her. 

As the day had faded, Elijah watched the stars emerge. Each one, ancient and arcane, acted as a reminder of the centuries he had lived, the countless battles he had fought; and the endless nights spent as alone as he felt in this moment. 

Never in his millennia of existence had his thoughts been so entirely consumed by one person, Elijah was no stranger to affection, but he never would have thought it possible to long for someone so strenuously. Y/N L/N had unknowingly captured his heart, and it seemed to him that there was nothing he could do to emancipate it.

She was wholly unaware of the effect she had on him; he was confident of this. Their friendship was simple, filled with laughter and shared moments that left her satisfied while making his heart ache with bittersweet longing. 

How could he justify what he felt? 

She was human, beautiful and kind, fragile and fleeting. Elijah was a creature of the night, a thousand years old and burdened with the malice of his past; he was a monster. He had observed as the times shifted around him, and never once, through the ages he bore witness to, had he felt contempt at his affliction. Where once relished in his power and eternity, he now drowned in it.

Each day, as she grew closer to her inevitable end, he felt the smothering weight of his affections grow heavier. He could not bear to witness her aging while he remained unchanged and eternal. Their livelihoods contrasted so glaringly that it left a bad taste in his mouth; he could never have her.

Elijah could not quell a venomous voice calling for him to turn her. As much as the allure of her immortality beckoned, he felt the burden of this reality pressing down upon him. He could not shake the conviction that to grant her such a gift would be a selfish act; one that robbed her of the life she deserved. He envisioned her vibrant humanity, the warmth of her character and the fleeting moments that made her so undeniably precious. To turn her into something she was not, to take away her chance to live fully, to love and to age as she was meant to—could he truly bear that?

Elijah sighed, raking a hand through his dark hair as he took the final sip of amber liquid from his crystal tumbler. As much as it pained him, he kept his distance, aiming to shield her from the dangers that came in correlation with his world. He was a friend to her, but that is where it ended. He feared that if he were to reveal his affections, she might recoil, horrified at the thought of his love. But most of all, he feared his love would bring about her end; no one ever lasted long in Mystic Falls, and any connection to him would make her a target.

Elijah thought of when he first met her half a year earlier, a friend of people often his adversaries in this uncanny town. She had not yet known about the covert world she lived in, and he had watched as she took it in her stride amidst the disarray of Mystic Falls.

From the moment he had laid eyes on her at a gathering hosted by the Salvatores, he was struck by her effortless charm, at the time, blissfully unaware of the lurking dangers that danced at the edges of her reality.

As the weeks went, and the unsavoury pastimes of her friends became known to her, he noticed how she remained steadfast in her support, never flinching when they faced danger; an innate strength that both captivated and terrified him. Her involvement placed her in danger and he could barely stomach it, but he knew that any attempts at her preservation would break down his faux illusion of causal amiability. 

What had surprised him was her sufferance towards his family, although they had her given plenty of ground for aversion, you would not have known it. Elijah found himself drawn to her, her honour and kindliness not only painting her as a person of trust and potential ally — but as someone who illuminated his perpetual existence. 

He turned from the large florid windows and drowned in his dejection. Elijah closed his eyes and pictured a life with her, relishing the shimmering mirage of the woman he believed he should never have.

Y/N sat cross-legged on her bed, flooded under the dim moonlight that illuminated her bedroom from her window. A familiar warmth was blooming in her chest in the wake of her dream. She had dreamt about him again, and although she was met with nothing but hollow images when trying to recall it, Y/N knew it to be true; she could feel it. Elijah was a figure of quiet strength, his kindness genuine but conditional, his presence commanding yet tender. She understood fully that beneath his charming facade lay a man capable of heinous things, artfully concealed behind layers of warmth and grace; it was this complex duality that both captivated and unsettled her — but people would never see this side of him had they not given him reason. 

Y/N pulled her knees closer to her chest and rested her chin on them, staring out the window into the dark. It was late—too late for most people, but sleep rarely came easy these days. Not when her mind kept spiralling. Beneath the surface of her admiration lay a deep-rooted ache—a longing she feared would remain forever unreciprocated.

There were moments, fleeting but sharp, where she would catch the slightest glint in his eyes—an intensity and tentativeness that contradicted the calm and collected way in which he perpetually carried himself. She could not place its catalyst — never quite conclude the reason for his apparent indifference. 

She watched him with others; he was always courteous and kind, and though he extended the same civility to her, it felt hesitant — as though he was keeping his distance. Not out of aloofness, no, that did not seem right to her. He was always kind, always careful with his words. He never pushed too close, never showed too much emotion, and sometimes it made her wonder whether all the little exchanges—their shared glances, the gentle touches on her shoulder—were nothing more than an act. A way of being nice out of obligation, out of courtesy. A politeness reserved for the human in the room.

Y/N sighed and her gaze dropped to her hands, maybe she had been putting too much weight into the moments when he had leaned in just a little too close, or the times he had lingered with her in conversation — the moments that had fueled her affections. After all, he is a man who had lived through centuries… what could a fleeting human like her truly mean to him?

She loved him; a love she had no right to feel and no place to nurture. Every time he looked at her, even from across the room, her pulse quickened and her breath hitched. She loved him in the way a person loves what they cannot have— she felt it in the back of her mind, like a dream that fades from memory in the first moments of the day, real but unattainable — lingering in the crevices of the mind. It was the gentleness of his touch, the way he always seemed to know exactly when she needed comfort and the way his presence made the world feel lighter. It was the quiet intensity of him, the way he carried the weight of centuries and still found space to be kind to her. 

And despite everything—the danger, the distance, the uncertainty—she could not stop loving him. It was as if her heart had chosen him without rhyme and reason — irrevocably, nothing could alter it now. Even if he never knew, even if he never returned the feeling, she would love him.

In their quiet moments, she often imagined what it would be like to confess her feelings. Would his rejection give off the same biting sting as his indifference? Would he retreat into a demeanour even more distant? Would he disappear altogether, her confession too much to entertain? 

Y/N bit her lip, contemplating the stark reality of their worlds. She was human, with all the fragility that came along with it. While he was a vampire, ancient, and burdened by its accompanying history and murk.

Their disparity was overwhelming, and Y/N felt as though she were drowning in it. She closed her eyes and sunk back into her pillows; picturing a life with him and savouring the fallacious warmth it designed. She wallowed in her desolation and the reality she believed she could never have.

I'm wondering if I should do a second part for this, let me know what you think. Also, this has been posted off of a relatively long hiatus, I recently started a university course which, unsurprisingly, has chewed up all of my spare time.

Anyone waiting on the next part of my 'revenant' series, I'm sorry for the long wait, I promise I'll dive right back into it when my holidays roll around soon enough. But with a spare week between countless assignments, I felt like writing something new, and this was the result.

Every comment and piece of advice is welcomed and appreciated <3

ｒｅｖｅｎａｎｔ － ｓｅｖｅｎ

PART SEVEN OF 'REVENANT' SERIES Damon Salvatore x Winchester!Sister!Hunter!Reader  The Vampire Diaries x SupernaturalMini-Series Synopsis: Y/N Winchester was tired of living in her brothers' shadows; she needed to do something for herself for a change. When she heads to Mystic Falls, a town she was always warned to stay away from, she finds she may have taken on more than she can handle. Will she be able to eradicate the supernatural from the uncanny town? Or will she find herself tangled amongst it? WARNINGS: Descriptions of violence. Words: 3,277k Blog Masterlist / Series Masterlist <Previous Part | Next Part >

The first thing Y/N registered when she woke up on an uncomfortable wooden table was an enigmatic lack of pain, there should have been pain. Memories of an excruciating white-hot agony from her back followed by a cascading stream of blood came back to her; she had been injured on the hunt. However, upon pulling down the back of her shirt and looking over her shoulder, no such wound could be found. Her skin was completely bare. She recalled memories of her brothers clutching onto her limp body, their tears mixing in with her blood. 

Everything had gone dark, and her body had fallen limp. 

She was dead. Or at least she had been. Y/N had already concluded that her brothers had done something inconceivably stupid, that maybe, one of them, had sold their souls. Y/N could feel tears welling up in her eyes, this had been her fault. If she had never begun the Mystic Falls case this would not be happening. The tears that had welled suddenly ran hot down her face. She could not lose either one of her brothers like this. Something had to be done. Though through her tears Y/N did not register the sound of a scuffle swiftly approaching her.

‘Y/N?…’ Her head whipped up to the sound of her name.

‘How… are you… alive…?’ Dean whispered as Sam’s eyes widened,

‘Oh please… god no… don’t say it…’ he winced, Dean looked up with furrowed eyebrows,

‘Don’t say what? Sammy?’

But Sam did not need to say anything, the realisation hit Y/N like a wave of paralysis. She had had vampire blood in her system. She counted the time back in her head. When she had died, it had been less than twenty-four hours since Damon had saved her the night before. Neither of her brothers had sold their souls and the relief she felt at the revelation was as sweet as sugar. However, this relief quickly turned to aghast and her stomach twisted unpleasantly.

There were only two options for her now.

Death.

Or an eternal life as a monster she had been raised to detest.

‘No, no, no… no, no… no’ She began to claw at the bare skin that should have been holding a fatal stab wound as she repeated her denial over and over. She then lifted her fingers to her scalp rubbing her temples as she began to rock back and forth. The lights and sounds of the motel’s run-down suite were suddenly too much for her and she shuddered when she realised why.

‘Y/N calm down, you’re scaring me, just minutes ago Sam and I refused to accept that we should be burying you… and now… how…’ Dean's voice was nervous and confused,

‘Dean… I think she had vampire blood in her system…’ Sam whimpered, Dean’s shocked gasp only worsened her state, she began sobbing openly,

‘Sam… How could you possibly know…?’ She thought of everything she had said about Mystic Falls since their reunion and she was confident she had never mentioned she knew a vampire personally. Sam winced, her question confirming his fears.

‘You seemed pretty evasive in the car when we were asking about Mystic Falls, but you mentioned there were vampires…’ Sam paused for a moment,

‘You were dead, Y/N. And now you’re not. There aren’t many things that could do that.’ Sam explained, his voice hollow.

‘Which blood-sucking freak did this to you?! Was it this Damon…?!’ Dean's booming voice made Y/N flinch,

‘He didn’t have a choice, I would’ve died then too…’ She muttered,

‘Well, maybe he should have let you.’ He said bitterly, Y/N could see the instantaneous regret on the eldest Winchester’s face, but that did not soften the blow of his cruel words.

‘Wait! I only meant that… if you had died then… we could have brought you back another way… as a human’

Though it seemed to Y/N that Dean had only added this to cover his outburst so without saying anything further, Y/N got up from the rickety table and swiftly made her way to the bathroom, grabbing her bags as she went.

‘Y/N… Wait!’ Sam called,

‘I need a shower’ She muttered as she slammed the door behind her. This was not a lie, however, she had no intention of staying afterwards. 

As the water turned warm she peeled the bloodied clothes from her skin and placed them on the toilet seat; deciding that Sam and Dean could deal with them later. The water ran red around her feet, it seemed like she had been scrubbing at her skin perpetually, grateful when the shower eventually turned clear. She put on the first things she could find in her bag, relieved to be in fresh clothes. 

Y/N understood it was not safe to be around her brothers at the moment, and besides, after what Dean had said, she did not wish to be. She studied the bathroom, looking for her best way out. The window was high above the bathtub and if she stood on the edge she could pull herself up and out. She plugged in the hairdryer, needing a loud sound to buffer hers. 

With utmost care, she tried her best to push the window open with little noise. She was convinced it had been years since it was opened, as it groaned and resisted the disturbance. She first put her bags through and then hauled herself up, landing with a soft thud.

Y/N made her way across the darkening street, and sighed, how long had she been ‘asleep’? Through glazed eyes, she scrolled through the names of her contacts and once finding the one she was after, she lifted the device to her ear.

‘Damon, where are you? We need to talk…’ Her voice broke.

Through clouded eyes, Y/N watched as Damon’s old blue Chevy pulled over, she had asked to meet him a few blocks down as she had been hiding, knowing full well her brothers would be looking for her by now. Her countless missed calls said so. She was quick to get in.

‘Please drive’ She muttered

‘Hey, are you okay?’ His eyebrows furrowed and he reached out to push the hair from her face, though when she flinched away from his touch, Damon quickly retracted his hand.

‘Y/N…?’

‘Just drive, please.’

Damon took his car out of park and pulled out onto the street. The hours that followed travelling back to Mystic Falls were filled with a taut silence, though Damon often made small glances in Y/N’s direction, every time he tried to speak up his attempt was dismissed, though it seemed he could not wait any longer,

‘Would you please tell me what’s wrong?’

Y/N considered whether it was appropriate to tell him in the car, though she quickly ridiculed this thought; her time was limited.

‘After I left town, my brothers and I went on a hunt…’ Damon did not like the idea of Y/N hunting, putting herself in unnecessary danger, but did not understand why this would leave her so dejected, he assumed she would have been looking forward to spending some time with them.

Damon felt a small, nagging frustration at her brothers, many things could have gone awry on a hunt, and he hated the idea of them putting her in harms way intentionally. However, as he examined her from head to toe, he realised she seemed physically fine. 

When he did not speak, Y/N elaborated.

‘I was injured, really badly…’ Y/N felt herself recoil, she did not want to think about the situation she was in and what she would have to do if she went through with it. Damon looked her over again,

‘What happened? I can’t see anything.’ His words were dubious, yet he still felt queasy at the idea she was hurt. She sighed and closed her eyes,

‘Damon… I died..’

The silence that hung in the air was palpable, Y/N swore she could have sliced it with a blade. A small gasp passed his lips so quiet she shivered; aware the soft sound could only be heard with her newly inhumane sense of hearing. Damon felt an all-consuming anger, how could they have let her die? How could they be so reckless? 

He felt nauseated, knowing how close he had been to never seeing her again. Imagining her cold and unresponsive figure sent tremors through his system.

‘Y/N… My blood…’ She could not hold back her tears anymore, everything that had been tormenting her since she fled from her brothers’ company consumed her. She vaguely noticed Damon pulling over his car and before she could say anything further, he had already sped around to her door and pulled her out; enveloping her in an unyielding embrace.

‘I’m so sorry, I know you would never have wanted this… ’ he choked out, seeing her suffering created his own. But he could not quell the selfish contentment he derived from this. Soon Y/N will be a vampire, she will be powerful; and immortal. She will be adept at protecting herself when he is not able. But more desirably, a life with her is within reach. She will not age, as he has not for a century and a half. He could have eternity with her. 

However, Y/N’s next words abruptly stifled this concept.

‘It’s okay, I would have died anyway, at least now I have the chance to say goodbye to everyone’ 

Y/N did not remember coming to this conclusion, but as the words flowed from her mouth she knew it was the right decision, though her thoughts halted when a realisation struck her; she had stormed out on her brothers and now she would probably never see them again, she must have been hours away from their motel by now. Damon drew back from their tight embrace, horrorstruck, again he pictured her cold and unresponsive; he felt those horrible tremors flood his being once more.

‘Y/N? What do you mean goodbye? Don’t tell me… you're planning on…’ Although he did not finish his sentence Y/N knew exactly what he was trying to say,

‘I can’t turn Damon, I’ve grown up hunting the very thing I will become, my brothers won’t be able to look me in the eye, hell, they may even want to kill me. My father would turn in his grave if he thought I was even considering it.’ Her words flowed hot and fast much like the tears streaming down her face, 

‘I can’t become a monster Damon, let’s just say I took on the Stefan diet or drank from blood bags, it would never last, have you ever heard of a vampire that’s never killed? They don’t exist. One day I’ll lose control and someone will lose their life because of it, I can’t, I won’t become a killer…’ 

Damon's buried rationality knew what she was saying was right, but he could not accept the fact she wanted to die. No, he would do everything in his power to get her to stay. He had lost too many people in his century and a half of existence, but nothing had hurt him like this would. 

‘Please Y/N, please don’t do this, mistakes happen and I can’t promise you anything, but you’re going to have so many people helping you, and I’m sure every one of us will do everything in our power to make sure no one is hurt because of this, Please… I can’t lose you…’ When his voice broke on the last words Y/N shut her eyes and sighed she hated hurting him like this,

‘Damon, I can’t… Please understand…’ she whimpered, Damon shaking his head in denial,

‘I need to call my brothers, I left without saying goodbye.’ 

Her body was riddled with guilt, how could she justify leaving them at a time like this? What had she been thinking? Y/N decided she would call them, it would be better than nothing. Though before she had the chance to ring them and make the broken ends meet, she realised hollowly that Damon was nowhere to be seen. She looked around the darkening street, she could see every last detail; a feat her eyes would not have been able to achieve a day ago. Damon had left her alone, his engine still running. 

She hated seeing him like this, she hated knowing that she was the reason he was hurting; and from what she had been told, Damon was not reasonable when he was hurt. How had they gotten to be this way? Hunter and vampire, trying to court each other.

She decided she should probably look for him, but before she could trek further down the lonesome street she was struggling against the pull of strong arms around her. Looking down she observed an ornate lapis lazuli ring, the very one Y/N knew Damon wore, what could he possibly be doing? Y/N had just been about to call out when she felt warm skin against her mouth, she assumed Damon had been preventing her from yelling when the taste of a warm metallic liquid met her lips. Damon was holding a stranger against her, pressing her wrist to her mouth. Y/N felt a sense of alarm growing in the back of her mind but before she could try and writhe from his iron grip the taste turned sweet; she stopped struggling, not able to remember why she wanted to escape in the first place, and clutched the wrist of the stranger closer still. She wanted this sensation to last forever, she had never tasted anything as delectable, but it all ended too soon when Damon pulled the girl from her arms.

‘Don’t worry, she’s not dead.’ Y/N watched in horror as the skin under his eyes formed inky black veins and newly formed fangs met his wrist, when Damon placed his bloodied skin to the mouth of the limp girl the weight of what had happened crushed her.

‘Damon… What did you do?…’ Y/N’s voice was low and dangerous, she turned away from his rueful grimace, a puddle on the street showing that her face now mirrored his. Awful black veins protruded beneath her eyes, she watched as the sclera of her eyes shifted back from red to white.

‘I know you may never forgive me, I understood that before I did it, but I couldn’t let you go through with it, I couldn’t let you die.’

Y/N felt a white-hot rage grow in her chest, 

‘THAT WASN’T YOUR DECISION TO MAKE!’ She pushed against his unyielding frame, her newfound strength still nothing to his century and a half. His lips formed a straight line and his eyes glassed over. 

‘I’m sorry Y/N, I’m so sorry…’ His words were whispered, she could hear his pain but she refused to pity him. 

‘Damon… I was meant to die…’ She trailed off, ‘My brothers…. They’ll want to kill me…’

‘No, no, this can’t happen…no.’ She began to pace the street, back and forth, rubbing her temples. She was ready to die, she would have been at peace; something now forever out of reach. She looked towards Damon, his tears were falling freely now, face contorted into a tortured expression. 

‘Damon… why…?’ Her voice was broken, she turned away.

Her anger dwindled, like sand through her fingers. Because despite everything he had done, she did not want to see him hurt. She wanted to hate him for what he did, to scream and shout, but she could not find it within herself to detest him. No, she could never hate him. 

Would she not commit the same, selfish act for the person she loved? Would she not have done it too, if the roles had been reversed? For a moment, she considered the awful concept of Damon’s death and all the abominable things she would do to prevent it. And if this dark imagining of hers occurred anyway, she knew she would go to great, grim lengths to reverse it. She realised Damon had only done exactly as she would do, he had only done what the Winchester siblings had already done; many times over. 

Y/N recalled the potent fear she felt, as she lay dying. She had thought she would never see Damon again and that pain had been more excruciating than her fatal wound. And here he was standing before her, his expression distorted to regretful woe because he had only wanted her to live. She once again pondered what it would mean to never see him again, she felt a distant echo of that earlier pain; maybe she had not been ready to die after all. 

At this moment, she was only angry with herself. Y/N knew that none of this would have occurred if she had not gone to Mystic Falls. But what surprised her the most, was that she also could not find it within herself to regret any of this. Everything Y/N had done, led her to meet him; and meeting Damon had been the greatest procurement of her life, or rather, exsistence. This realisation crushed her like an avalanche; exsistence. ‘Life’ no longer applied to her, she was immortal. Y/N would exist forever.

She began to consider what forever truly meant. A hundred years from now, Y/N would stand before her reflection, and she would look exactly as she does at this moment. The world would have changed to a vast extent, but she would remain unchanging.

Only yesterday she had yearned to wake up beside Damon every morning and spend all day by his side. Y/N had longed to listen to his stupid jokes and talk endlessly with him until night fell and they could begin over again. Eternity had made that possible. And in a hundred years when she looked into that mirror, she could now envision Damon by her side; as he was now. Her heart swelled with a palpable warmth. Maybe eternity was not so bad. 

Damon observed her deliberation, waiting for her to explode. She realised her demeanour must have changed completely during her sudden erudition, as she turned back she noticed Damon now donned an expression of dubiety. But she did not take the time to explain, instead rushing to envelop him in her embrace, leaning back far enough to connect her lips with his, she could taste his drying tears. 

Y/N had surprised him, but he melted into her kiss anyway. She could feel his tense trepidation flow out from beneath her fingertips, as he sighed, content. Damon could not comprehend her sudden tranquil composure, he knew he most certainly did not deserve it. He assumed what he had done would have driven her away for good, he had understood that when he acted. But Damon refused to live in a world where she did not exist, even if it meant she was not with him; it was enough to know she would be alive and well. Never would he have imagined she would accept this so willingly, what had changed in her few moments of quiet thought? 

Y/N finally pulled away and rested her forehead against his.

‘I hope you know you’re stuck with me now?’ Her voice was quiet,

Damon’s laugh was relieved, coming out in an exhaled breath; his voice still holding the faint hallmarks of someone with regret.

‘That’s all I’ve wanted.’

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PART SIX OF 'REVENANT' SERIES Damon Salvatore x Winchester!Sister!Hunter!Reader  The Vampire Diaries x SupernaturalMini-Series Synopsis: Y/N Winchester was tired of living in her brothers' shadows; she needed to do something for herself for a change. When she heads to Mystic Falls, a town she was always warned to stay away from, she finds she may have taken on more than she can handle. Will she be able to eradicate the supernatural from the uncanny town? Or will she find herself tangled amongst it? WARNINGS: Descriptions of violence. Words: 4,266k Blog Masterlist / Series Masterlist <Previous Part | Next Part >

Damon Salvatore loved her. She was certain of it. She felt his love in the way he held her as she lay dying, Y/N heard it in his desolating sobs and saw it in the way he looked at her as he pleaded with her to drink his blood; as he pleaded with her to live. Y/N Winchester was a hunter and Damon, newly beknownst to her, was, to her horror, a vampire. And somehow, despite all this, they loved one another. She thought the world must have been knocked out of orbit, how else could everything be so backward? So unbelievably, preposterously anomalous?

Her love for Damon filled her heart until no room was left, and Y/N found herself confused and overwhelmed by it. Part of her wanted nearly nothing more than to be back in the company of her brothers, saving people and hunting things. But there was something, or rather someone, she wanted more desperately; she wanted him. She yearned to wake up beside Damon every morning and spend all day by his side. She longed to listen to his stupid jokes and talk endlessly with him until night fell and they could begin all over again. And this terrified her. Where was her respect for everything her father had taught her? How had it become so unreservedly obsolete?

Which is why the young Winchester found herself packing as soon as first light had made itself known. Leaving Damon was the last thing Y/N wanted, but she knew it was what she needed. She needed to be back with her brothers, at least for a little while, to live in her normal routine. She sighed when she beheld the disordered motel room before her. This place had become a home to Y/N in a way she could never foresee, it broke her heart to be packing it all away. 

Y/N stalked over to her fridge, scattered unceremoniously by magnets across the white stainless steel, were pictures of people she had come to care deeply for. She studied each of their faces in dismay.

She now knew most of them were monsters.

Though this thought left a bad taste in her mouth, they were good people; she was sure of it. With a lump in her throat and tears sitting dormant in her eyes, she picked out a picture with everyone and shoved it into her back pocket for safekeeping. From her other pocket, she pulled out a small sliver phone and looked through her speed dial, guilt rose in her stomach when she realised how far she had to scroll; it had been a while since she had heard from this number. She lifted the device to her ear and listened to a rushed scuffle from the other end. 

‘Hey Sammy…’ Y/N spoke this quietly, but she was sure he could hear her. 

‘Y/N… What… How are you?’ She could tell he did not know what to say, his words came out in a gasp. Y/N flinched slightly when she heard the grumbling tone of the eldest Winchester in the background, asking for the phone she presumed. Sam had always been easier to talk to. 

‘I know this call is probably a shock, but I wanted to know if you could come and get me…?’ She closed her eyes when she said this, what was she doing?

‘Um… Of course Y/N… That’s all we’ve wanted since…’ She cut him off, 

‘I’ll send you my address, okay?’ She did not want this phone call to drag on any longer, she was sure they would have a lot to say when they got here. She hung up and opened her text messages sending her address off before she could change her mind, she closed her eyes once more; it was too late to turn back now. 

Two hours had passed since the phone call when she discerned the sound of a car pulling into the car park in front of her room, the young hunter pulled back her blinds, half expecting the familiar black impala. Her stomach turned when she instead spied Damon’s blue Camaro; she was hoping she would not have to see him before she left. For a fleeting moment, she considered jumping out the bathroom window, but quickly quelled this thought; she was just being stupid.

She trailed tentatively to the door after hearing his rhythmic rap and opened it. Her expression quickly turned abashed when she took in his content smile. Though, he walked quickly past her, over the threshold with no invitation, his face now perplexed. 

‘Where are your things?’ She had now finished packing and he examined the starkly bare room in alarm, eyes halting when they met her luggage. He turned to her, apprehensive, 

‘You’re not leaving, are you?… If it’s about last night with Klaus, I promise you don’t have to worry, I won’t let him hurt you.’ He sputtered over his words, and grabbed both her shoulders,

‘Please Y/N… Don’t leave… I can only protect you if you’re with me.’ His words were pleading, and Y/N’s responding smile was gentle,

‘It’s not about Klaus, it’s about the fact that you’re a vampire and I’m a hunter…’ She started,

‘Y/N… We can… I…’ She was not used to him stumbling like this, he was usually so confident and conceited, she lifted her hand to his cheek, stopping his flow of stunted words.

‘I don’t plan on disappearing forever Damon, I just need time to think.’ She tried to sound reassuring, though she feared she failed when the sound of another car made itself known, Y/N winced; she was hoping it would not come to this. She looked at Damon intensely and took both his cheeks this time,

‘Please Damon, my brothers can’t know you’re a vampire.’ Y/N pleaded, hoping it was enough. She shuddered when she envisioned Dean finding out about him. No, that could not happen. She moved upward to place a sweet and short kiss on his lips, 

‘Your brothers?’ He muttered. She felt culpable, he did not know anything about her. 

‘Please…’ She whispered once more, maintaining stern eye contact, she needed him to realise how serious she was about this. She turned to grab her bags, relieved when he let her escape from his grasp and headed out the door to meet her brothers, Damon following suit. 

Sam and Dean had just come out of the old black car when she passed over the front door. She had expected to immediately receive a chastising lecture, though that seemed silly now as she watched them. Of course, they were just relieved to see her. The brothers swiftly made their way over to her and she had to drop her bags to meet their embrace, nearly crying when the familiar scent of gunpowder and whiskey made itself known; she knew she had missed them, but only now in their arms did she realise how much. She pulled in closer. 

‘Please don’t try this again…’ Sam whispered into her hair, before shifting his chin to sit on her head.

‘I could just about wring your neck in, kid.’ Dean's words were harsh but his tone hinted at playfulness, he too held her in a tight embrace. Their reunion had not been as tense as she had presumed, all her built dread and proliferation for nothing. They all pulled apart too soon.

‘Who’s this?’ Sam looked over her shoulder at Damon. He had been hovering in the background.

‘Ah… This is my friend…’ Y/N tried to sound casual, but her voice was strained, she only hoped they did not notice. Dean’s eyes tightened ever so slightly when he looked him over, as though he were inspecting him. Damon stepped forward hand outstretched,

‘Damon Salvatore, you are?’ Dean met his hand,

‘Dean Winchester, this is Sam’ Dean's voice was sceptical and rigid, she wondered if it was because he was a stranger or a man who dared be in her presence; likely both. Damon exhaled a small breath,

‘Winchester…? Hm…’ Once more Y/N experienced guilt, he had still thought her surname was Walker; she had been just as secretive as him. A charged silence followed and after a few fraught moments, Damon spoke again. 

‘Well, I was just heading off…’ She could tell Damon did not want to leave her, but she had not given him much choice. She found it unusual that he was conferring so much liberty, according to her friends he had never been serene with his loved ones’ unwelcome decisions; she had thought essentially running away would most certainly be unwelcome. Maybe, he too, needed some time to think away from her. After all, she had been equally as unforthcoming. He walked a few steps forward and replaced her brothers in an embrace, 

‘Don’t be gone long… Please.’ He whispered, only for her ears. He then shifted his face to place a lingering kiss on her forehead and tightened his hold. He was irrefutably overdoing this farewell for the audience of her brothers, yet she could not find it within herself to pull away; so much for him just being a friend. She felt heat flood her cheeks in embarrassment as Damon eventually pulled away, his warmth following suit. She yearned to be in his arms again; it shocked her how easily she could forget what he was. 

However, her longing thoughts were quickly stunted by Dean’s fuming expression and she thanked her lucky stars that her brother did not know about Damon’s unsavoury pastime. Sam merely looked confused, albeit slightly concerned. 

‘Dean… Sam…Lovely to meet you.’ He nodded to both of them in turn, before facing Y/N. 

‘Well, I guess I’ll be seeing you soon enough’ And without giving her a chance to respond, he moved to take a seat in his Camaro and drove away.

‘Your friend Y/N… Really?’ Dean's rolled his eyes, voice critical,

‘It’s hardly your business.’ Their bickering was like normal, as though she had never left them, it made her smile,

‘I’ve missed you guys.’  She said sincerely, they scoffed,

‘Four months, Y/N, you’ve been gone for four months… And all you have for us is ‘I’ve missed you’’ Dean’s fingers formed quotation marks over his last words. 

‘Did you want a written apology?’ Her response was sardonic.

‘Look, Dean’ She continued, ‘If I were sorry, I’d say so. These last few months have been good for me. You may not understand that, but I’m not looking for your agreement anyway’ Dean was not impressed with her response, but he shrugged it off easily enough. Sam watched the entire exchange astounded.

‘Smart arse’ Dean said, smiling now, ‘Get in the car’

‘Who is Mister tall, dark and handsome anyway?’ She could tell Dean had been stewing on this, his nose scrunched ever so slightly; thinking of Damon made him uneasy.

By now the Winchester siblings had driven a couple of hours out of Mystic Falls, they had already begun a hunt when she had rung them. Y/N's brothers knew why she had left and it was clear to her that they were trying to rectify it all by bringing her along; to say she was excited would be an understatement. She watched as a blur of green foliage passed her by from the backseat window, it had been forever since she had left town. She looked to Dean,

‘Well, he’s not that tall, to be honest…’ Y/N stated matter of fact. Through the rearview mirror, she watched his eyes roll.

‘You’re deflecting.’

‘I believe he already introduced himself, his name is Damon.’ 

When he realised she was not going to give him anymore his expression shifted to disapproval, changing topics,

‘Mystic Falls Y/N? What the hell were you doing in Mystic Falls? Sam and I never thought to look there because we thought you could never be that stupid. I guess we gave you too much credit.’ 

It was Y/N's turn to roll her eyes,

‘I’m alive and well, aren’t I?’

‘That’s beside the point, did you listen to a single word Dad said? That place is supposed to be a hunter's nightmare.’ He paused,

‘What were you doing all that time anyway?’ Dean demanded,

‘The town is built upon monsters. Vampires, witches, werewolves… Even ghosts. You’d have an easier time listing monsters that aren’t there. It wasn’t something I could solve overnight, let alone at all… Apparently.’

She felt uneasy telling them this, as though she were betraying the trust of all her friends in the infamous town. Both brothers cringed in unease,

‘Most of the vampires walk around in broad daylight, living like everyday citizens. Well… at least it seems that way to me.’

She again thought of her friends, they all had her fooled. She opened her mouth to speak more of them, but quickly stopped herself; Sam eyed her dubiously for a moment.

‘Why didn’t you call us Y/N? It could have ended really badly…’ Sam asked softly, she felt apologetic now,

‘If I were ever in any real trouble, I probably would have’ 

But that was not true.

She thought back to Klaus and his impromptu murder attempt, and how quickly she could have become yet another dire statistic on Mystic Falls’  already dire record. She wondered how long it would have taken for her brothers to figure it out; to work out she had died. She felt reproachable once more, though she did not have long to torment herself as they had arrived at their motel.

Y/N watched as the flickering neon light of a gaunt and rundown building grew closer as the Impala slowed down; she felt right at home looking at the place. 

‘We already have a room. We came from here to pick you up.’ Dean tossed her a key, her recent admission still left him tense but she could tell he was, at the very least, attempting to be amicable,

‘We’re dealing with ghouls, grave robberies, missing people. So on and so forth.’ Dean's voice was casual, apathetic,

‘You’re compassion for human life never fails to awe me’ Y/N's voice was dripping with sarcasm and the eldest brother rolled his eyes.

‘Lucky for you, all the research is done, we just need to go in and kill the sons of a bitches’ Y/N made a wide smile, research was all she was usually allowed to do,

‘When are we going?’ She asked enthusiastically,

‘As soon as you’re ready’

The ghouls had taken over the residency of their victims, mother, father and teenage daughter; the perfect nuclear family it seemed. When the young Winchester gazed upon the house, completed with its white picket fence; she felt uneasy. These people had lived the life she had always yearned for, and now they had fallen victim to monsters just the same; at least she was not dead. Y/N did not want to go in there and see the smiling faces from their pictures, imagining how they now lay defiled and rotting who knows where. But she knew she must, she must avenge their memory. 

They had deliberately left before nightfall, they wanted the element of surprise and daytime hunting was certainly not common. The home was completely isolated, she assumed this decision was intentional by the ghouls; no suspicious neighbours. However, this ended up being convenient as it had allowed the Winchesters a wide berth, no one to watch and report their seemingly antisocial behaviour to authorities. 

‘Sam and I will come in from the back door, we can easily get past that fence from around the corner.’ Dean pointed to their point of entry from their hidden parking spot, the fence had fallen slack, so it would be easy to move aside.

‘Follow behind us and come through the front door after you hear the commotion from our attack. I mean it, kid, only after you hear us. I want their attention on Sam and I, not you.’ She rolled her eyes but nodded,

‘After I hear you. Got it.’ They got out of the car,

Dean, followed closely by Sam and Y/N, made his way to the car’s boot, opening up to a vast collection of weapons and gadgets. Y/N thought the sight would have made Alaric Saltzman cry tears of joy. This time Sam spoke,

‘You kill them by destructing their heads, you can bash them in or decapitate them, but headshots are always going to be easier.’ As Sam talked, Dean handed her a machete, a handgun and a hunting knife. Of course, she knew all this already, but she listened intently anyway; she knew it would make them feel better. She grabbed the weapons from his outstretched arms and tucked the gun and knife into her belt. He then handed her two little metal instruments,

‘This is a lock pick, in case you need it for the door.’ 

‘I don’t think there is anything else to say.’ Dean continued, grabbing one of her shoulders, ‘Stay here until you can’t see us behind the house anymore, then make your way over… And I’m serious Y/N, be careful.’ 

He patted her on the back and with one last look at the house Sam and Dean began stalking over, holding the broken fence up for each other as they cautiously made their way past. Once they disappeared from her sight, she crept forward careful not to be seen from any of the lit windows. Once close enough to hear any sign of trouble, she concealed herself beside the white panel foundation within some bushes. Each minute drew into the next as she waited impatiently, biding her time. Y/n was uneasy; surely they would have made some noise by now? She looked down at her watch. Five minutes… Then ten. Finally, a crash sounded from within the home and she quickly jumped to her feet.

Still careful not to bring any attention onto herself she tip-toed to the front door and fiddled with the lock pick until she heard a quiet click. Y/N pushed the door forward, cringing when it creaked. The smell of decay engulfed her as she passed the threshold and she was not sure what it was that made her feel sick, the stench, or the fact it meant the bodies of their victims were still within the house. She edged forward, concerned, she had not heard much since the initial crash. When she began considering that she had gone too early, she noticed low murmurs coming from a room to her left, with the door already open. The young hunter hesitantly made her way over and peeked around the corner. The sight halted her. Sam and Dean had been tied to either side of a radiator; how had the ghouls jumped them so effortlessly? Before them, stood the ghoul that had taken on the father’s appearance. It seemed to Y/N that he was watching her brothers, making sure they caused no trouble, she presumed. She knew she had to make quick work of him before the others returned. By now her brothers had seen her, but they were careful to look anywhere but her direction; at least they could do that right.

She stalked forward and grabbed the ghoul's shoulders, smothering its mouth. She brought her arm around his struggling frame and embedded her knife into an eye, praying it was only the brain that needed to be destroyed. Her relief was palpable when his body gave way, she would not have been able to hold him much longer; the ambush was her only advantage. She soundlessly guided his weight to the floor, circumventing the attention of the others and rushed to her brothers cutting both of their bonds.

‘There’s more than the three we anticipated, they have friends.’ Sam told her urgently,

‘I took down one earlier and along with daddy dearest, that makes two. I think there’s three more’ Dean continued, 

The brothers retrieved their weapons from across the room as Y/N dragged the body away from the open doorway, it would not do for the others to see him dead. She looked back to her brothers, they were now huddled over whispering.

‘I think we need to split up, I’ll search the rooms around the front, and you head towards the back.’ Sam said,

‘I’ll take Y/N.’ Dean added, Sam nodding in response.

Sam made his way out first and snuck into the room adjacent. Dean then motioned for them to walk further down the hallway, stopping in front of the end door. She took a deep breath when she noticed the hushed voices from behind; this was it. Dean took two steps back, her cue to get out of his way, and kicked the door down with all his force. Two ghouls froze, stunned, though if they were worried they did not show it. Dean burst over the threshold and raised his gun, the two shots he fired missed his targets marginally. His lapse gave the ghouls enough time to jump him and tackle him to the ground. Y/N began to run over in aid when a third ghoul, who had taken the appearance of a teenage girl, jumped onto her back. She had not seen her when Dean kicked down the door.

Y/N’s heart lept to her throat when she spied Dean being held down. During the tackle, his gun had fallen to the floor a metre to his left and the second ghoul wasted no time to retrieve it. 

With every bit of strength in her body, she shrugged the girl off of her shoulders and made aim at the armed monster's head. The ghoul she had been fighting crashed into an end table and despite being stunned she was quickly regaining her step. Y/N felt uneasy knowing she was now exposed, but she could not leave her brother undefended. As she pulled the trigger a shocking, horrible pain made itself known in her back, and she realised hollowly that her knife was missing from her belt. 

Her knees buckled and she fell to the floor, the impact knocking the air from her lungs. Blood gushed out and stained her lips as she struggled for each breath. She was grateful to see the bullet she shot still hit its target. Her relief was almost as apparent as her pain when she saw Dean finally push the ghoul off of him, swiftly decapitating it. 

‘Oh god… Y/N…’ Sam whimpered, his voice coming from behind her in the doorway. A loud bang sounded, followed by a gruesome splatter of blood overhead and she knew the ghoul who had stabbed her was no more. 

Sam rushed to his sister’s side and lifted her head to support it in his lap. Dean’s expression paled when he took in the macabre state of his sister; she had been hurt protecting him. He quickly shifted her on her side and placed pressure on the wound.

‘Y/N…Why did you do that? I could have handled myself..’ His voice was shrouded with guilt. She wanted to tell him that he would have died, but she could not form the words; her lungs had been damaged. Instead, with her quickly depleting strength, she lifted her hand to rest on his cheek. He knew what she meant by it, closing his eyes as a sob quaked in his chest. 

‘You’re going to be okay…’ He cried. Sam had been silent through all of this, but her head shook as, he too, sobbed. Their reactions conveyed the opposite of Dean’s words. She was not going to be okay. She was going to die. 

Y/N thought of Damon, the vampire who she had somehow come to love and her promise to return to him. When he inevitably tries to contact her, will he assume she is ignoring him? Would he think she ran away? Fear settled in her stomach, she would never see him again. Unbeknownst to either of them; their last moment had already elapsed. She wept in despair, and her brothers cringed, believing it to be her pain. But no physical affliction could equal the mental anguish she faced now; she would never see Damon again. She felt light-headed and her body washed over with a tingling cold, as though she had developed a fever; she knew this was the end. Y/N looked at her brother's faces each in turn, drinking them in for the last time, she wished, at this moment, they could have been happier; she did not want to remember them like this.

Y/N felt a strange heaviness, as though the earth itself was pulling her down into the depths of its crust. Her thoughts began to slow, each one taking longer to form as if wading through a thick, dark sludge. The pain and torment that had just gripped her so fiercely began to ebb away like a receding fog; a euphoric numbness now standing in its place. This profound sense of release was like nothing she had ever experienced.

Darkness began to set in from the edges of her vision, like a gentle, encroaching tide. Her already stunted breaths grew shallow, each one more laboured than the last, until they stopped altogether. Her figure was now a caricature of the person she once was, Y/N was empty; as though she had never existed at all.

A/N: The reader had a rough couple of days, sorry guys.

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PART FIVE OF 'REVENANT' SERIES Damon Salvatore x Winchester!Sister!Hunter!Reader  The Vampire Diaries x SupernaturalMini-Series Synopsis: Y/N Winchester was tired of living in her brothers' shadows; she needed to do something for herself for a change. When she heads to Mystic Falls, a town she was always warned to stay away from, she finds she may have taken on more than she can handle. Will she be able to eradicate the supernatural from the uncanny town? Or will she find herself tangled amongst it? WARNINGS: Descriptions of violence. Words: 3,127k Blog Masterlist / Series Masterlist <Previous Part | Next Part > A/N: I am so sorry this part took so long to come out.

Dusk set over Mystic Falls as Damon and Y/N made their way to the founder’s ball, the street lamps they passed under casting a golden hue against them. Y/N could feel her heart beating in her throat. Three times she had attempted to take a peek at Damon on the sly and three times he had already been looking her way. She did not know what scared her more; his lack of attention for the road ahead, or the fact he was seemingly staring at her. Y/N’s heart leapt as she discerned Damon’s hand lying open-palmed beside the handbrake, she knew he meant for her to grab it, but she could not force her suspicions out of her head. The calmness his presence brought her could only be short-lived. What if her unwilling intuition was right? What if he was a vampire? Once again, she thought back to the archives in the civil hall, one of the documents, dated 1864, had displayed both his and his brother's names.

Y/N swiftly quelled this concept, she was being ridiculous. Damon was a Salvatore, one of Mystic Fall's most cherished founding families, she had spied him with Liz Forbes working to eradicate vampires; she had known all this since the day she met him. 

But she also recalled her original assumption, from their first meeting at the grill; she had thought he was one of them. But no, he could not be.

For a town so engrossed with tradition and heritage, would it be so outrageous to assume he and his brother were named for their late ancestors? And besides, a hunter could not love a vampire; it would go against her very nature. Her very reason for existing.

Y/N’s breath hitched in her throat after this internal admission; love. She loved him. Warmth unfurled in her body like the first summer day after a most grim winter. She was in love with Damon Salvatore; everything about him. 

She loves his stupid jokes, his dark hair and crystal blue eyes, and the way he looks at her with them. She loves the things he says, and everything he does and every time they part she loves knowing she will see him again.

She took a quiet breath and placed her hand in his, fingers entwining. When she peeked at him once more his lips were turned into a smile that creased his eyes, and she realised abruptly that she also loved his smile; more than she had ever loved anything. No, she did not believe he was a vampire.

Y/N let her love for Damon settle into every alcove of her being, she felt it from her fingers to her toes. But most of all she felt this love proliferate in her heart. It was something she had been so sure she understood. She loved her brothers, and although it had always been harder to admit, she also loved her father. But this was different, it was all-consuming, so insufferably intense, yet despite all this; calming. She had never felt she belonged anywhere, never found her place in this world. And somehow, in this uncanny town that she had only planned to inhabit briefly, she had found a home in the comfort of Damon's presence. 

She could not believe, after everything she had been through and everything she had witnessed, through all her short-lived stays in unfortunate towns, that she would fall for someone so easily. For the longest time, she had held herself aloof from relationships; as though she was above them. Y/N understood that any bonds she formed would never amount to anything more than ephemeral, fleeting. But Y/N had also known falling in love with Damon would be as easy as the phrase proposed; as effortless as falling; and fallen she had. Her love for him was now as certain as the sun rising in the east and setting in the west, and she did not want to believe it.

‘You know, I thought you’d never take the hint’ He said, smirking now, and brought her hand first to his lips and then to rest upon his knee. She felt a blush flood her cheeks and she was sure they glew vermillion. His affections had never been this blatant before.

‘I love how easy that is.’ He continued when she did not speak and with her most recent revelation fogging her thoughts, she realised suddenly that she had no notion of what he had meant.

‘How easy what is?’ Her breath came in quickly as she tried to function normally. To behave as though she had not just become aware of the certitude with which she loved the person sitting beside her. Though when his smile faltered, she knew she had failed, and she wanted nothing more than to see him smile again.

‘It’s easy to make you blush, it’s become a pastime of mine… something I’m very good at.’ He said this earnestly, though there was an air of jest to his comment. Her cheeks felt hot again, this time in embarrassment; after all, she did blush a lot. 

He removed his hand from hers leaving it feeling cold and vacant, and lifted it to her face, reposing the back of his fingers against her cheek. He stared ahead at the road, with one hand on the wheel and an expression seemingly far away, and just as she dared thought he would mutter something profound, he opened his mouth to whisper,

‘Exhibit A, you’re blushing again. I get it though… I’m charming.’  He turned to her again, his smirk returning, and this time Y/N smiled with him. He always had something stupid to say.

The rest of the drive to the venue had been silent, though Y/N's thoughts had never been more deafening. She loved him. She loved Damon. She ran away from home and fell in love with the first man she saw. Y/N suddenly felt sick. If Dean were here right now she knew she would never live this down, she supposed that would mean her brothers could never find out. They pulled into a car park.

‘Y/N, are you alright, you’ve been acting strange.’ Her performance had not been as foolproof as she had thought.

‘Yes, I’m fine, it’s just… I’ve never been to anything like this before.’ She was surprised with how natural the lie came across, she could tell Damon believed her. He rolled his eyes and grabbed her hand again.

‘You don’t have to worry, I won’t let you embarrass yourself.’  He lifted her hand to his lips and gave a sweet kiss, never breaking eye contact. Heat flooded into her cheeks for the umpteenth time that day and she wondered if she had gotten it all wrong, maybe this supposed love was nothing more than a school-girl crush; she was certainly acting like a school-girl. 

Damon let go, got out of the car, and began making his way to the passenger side. Y/N knew what he was doing and quickly rushed to get out of the car herself, despite everything that had happened and everything she realised about him, she was not going to let him dote on her; she was too proud. 

‘Won’t you let me be a gentleman for once?’ He groused in fake chagrin.

‘But Damon, that would be unlike you…’ She smiled easily like everything was right in the world.

‘Why must you always offend me?’ He admonished, as he linked his arms with hers. Y/N’s attention quickly shifted to the sound of music and chatter coming from the ornate Lockwood mansion. She breathed in deeply and closed her eyes, only now becoming aware she had not lied before, Y/N was nervous; socialising had never come easy for her. 

‘Don’t worry Y/N, you’re fine.’ Damon used his free hand to lift her chin, and he smiled at her encouragingly,

‘If we stand around any longer, we’re going to be late.’

The ball was already in full swing as the unlikely couple, arms linked, made their way through the grand doors. Y/N gaped in awe at the opulent chandeliers and sweeping floral arrangements adorning the sumptuous room; she had never beheld anything like it. For a moment she allowed herself to ponder all the period dramas she had watched in dingy motel rooms depicting such scenes, standing in this grandiose setting made those childhood evenings seem a lifetime ago. 

The dulcet tone of one of Chopin’s many waltzes flowed from a piano standing in the corner of the makeshift ballroom and Y/N observed as gowns twirled in a beguiling amalgamation of colour, she shuddered at the thought of joining them; she would not be caught dead dancing. 

‘May I…’ Damon unlinked their arms to instead hold his hand up in an offer, he wanted to dance,

‘No… Absolutely not…’ Y/N gasped, ‘I need to have at least 20 more drinks in my system before I do something like that.’ 

‘Come on Y/N, you’re at a ball, live a little.’ Damon’s mouth turned into a lopsided grin, she assumed he was happy to discover something that unsettled her, her responding look was scathing.

‘I wasn’t kidding about the drinks.’ 

The Winchester grabbed his still outstretched hand and guided him to the bar she had spied opposite the dancefloor. Already placed upon an embellished silver platter sat countless glasses of champagne, she grabbed two, and turned toward her dark-haired date.

‘Champagne is crucial for a great evening’ She said mirthfully, handing him a glass, 

‘I suppose we better have some then’ Damon's voice turned grave, his change of tone startling her. She gazed up at him in shock, Damon looked over her shoulder, eyebrows furrowed; she followed his line of sight. A man had just walked into the building, he had dirty blond hair that sat in curls upon his forehead. She was bemused to realise she had never seen him before; was he new in town? 

Damon grabbed both their glasses, eyes lingering on the man and placed them back on the platter.

‘We’ll have some later… May I?’ Finally breaking his gaze, he held his hand out for her to grab, his tenseness unsettled her, she could tell he was making an effort to remain calm. She took his hand and together they walked past the make-shift ballroom and towards a hallway, Damon leading her away by the small of her back, but when the enigmatic man from moments earlier turned the corner behind them, his grasp shifted further around her waist,

‘Klaus… What a nice surprise.’ Y/N noticed the way Damon’s tone turned ever so slightly at the word ‘nice’, as though it left a bad taste in his mouth. She wondered who this man was, and why his presence had Damon tightening his grip on her waist, pulling her closer. She watched in trepidation as his stance became more guarding, shifting forward marginally so that he was now standing between them. Her stomach dropped, Damon was scared of this man, and that scared her.

‘My date… was just leaving, going to get us drinks.’ He lied easily, gesturing to the bar the way they had come, now letting go of her completely to instead stand between them.

‘Damon… I…’ Y/N started, 

‘I would like a bourbon, neat.’ He turned to face her fully, eyes pleading, she had never seen him this timid.

‘She can get drinks in a minute, I don’t believe we’ve been introduced, my name is Klaus Mikealson.’ 

Klaus held out his hand for her to take, and if Damon had not been acting so strange she would not have thought twice about taking it. He was perfectly charming. However, he also gave the impression that this introduction was not merely optional, so with a deep breath and one last look into Damon’s beseeching gaze, she connected her hand with his.

‘Y/N Walker.’ She said simply, not wanting to grant Klaus any more than this.

‘You look lovely this evening, Y/N.’ 

She felt his eyes look her up and down, measuring her and when his gaze promptly halted on her upper left arm dread washed over her being like a torrent. He lifted his hand once more, moving the fabric of her sleeve upward. The body tape she had carefully placed had seemingly come undone.

‘An interesting tattoo…’ He spoke his words inquisitively, though a divergence in his tone told the young Winchester that he knew exactly what it was. Klaus’s grip shifted to above her elbow as he turned to Damon, 

‘A hunter… you brought a hunter into our midst.’ Damon took a step back from him, a feeble attempt at getting closer to the girl, but it was redundant. After months of no detection, Y/N could hardly believe her cover could be thrown so easily, by something so negligible. Klaus quickly pulled Y/N towards him and placed his hand under her chin as if in a caress, but the seething look in his eyes told her it was anything but.

‘This isn’t personal, love, consider it housekeeping. I prefer to keep my town hunter-free.’ 

His other hand cut into her chest, like a hot knife through butter, a feat she did not believe possible. She looked down at her body, her stunning crimson gown growing a darker red beneath his hand and acknowledged what she had known from the moment he had seen her tattoo, Klaus was a vampire, and she was going to die. He had chastised Damon for bringing a hunter with him, and she could think of only one reason why. All along, her intuition had been right and she had deluded herself into thinking otherwise; all because she loved him. As she looked into the harrowed expression contorting his features, she considered for a moment that maybe he had loved her back; but none of it mattered now.

The taste of blood on her tongue was accompanied by the appearance of a searing white-hot pain now strewing through her chest. It was agony like she had never known. Pain she would not wish on her worst enemy. 

Y/N knew she could not survive this. Dark spots replaced all colour as her vision began to recede, and her knees collapsed beneath her. Before the world could fade completely the pressure of Klaus's hand disappeared, followed by a crash opposite them; she imagined Damon must have torn him from her, as she was now being held up by his shaking arms. She opened her eyes long enough to spy all her closest friends making their way towards them, the commotion must have caught their attention.

Their faces were grim but unsurprised, and she wondered dejectedly how many of them were in on this secret. How could she be so out of touch? To not suspect her own friends? They made their way straight to Klaus, to restrain him, she presumed.

The world blurred fast around her and for a fleeting moment, she let herself believe that this was the end. But with the feeling of a cool breeze shifting her hair, she realised she was being moved. Towering trees enwreathed her peripheral and her rapid breath turned to white vapour in the air. Damon, hands quivering, placed Y/N delicately on the damp forest floor as though she would break at the slightest touch.

‘No… Y/N…’ Damon winced, it was the most dreadful sound she had heard. He was hurting. She forced her eyes open to look at him and immediately wished she had not. 

Black veins appeared beneath the eyes she had come to adore, but they were no longer the pale blue shade she loved, the whites had turned red and inhumane. He lifted his wrist to his mouth which, to the young hunter's horror, had formed fangs and made a small gash. Y/N pressed her eyes shut again; she did not want to believe it. She felt Damon clutch onto her jaw, and despite forcing it open, his touch was benign, as though he worried she would disappear under his grasp. 

She tried to close her mouth, she understood what he was doing, but her attempt was futile; he was too strong.

‘Please Y/N… You need to drink this… Please. ’ He shook her shoulders in desperation and she felt her whole body moving with his disruption, the pain in her chest intensifying. She told herself the pain was a good thing, it meant she was alive. He forced her jaw wider trying to force down his blood; she was not cooperating. Sobs quaked in his chest as he persisted in his pleading,

‘Please Y/N, I’m trying to help… Please.’ His weeps were gut-wrenching, and despite everything she had learned, what she now knew about him, she still did not want to hear him hurt like this. She stopped struggling and let the awful, hot, liquid pass her lips. 

Her affliction receded and the relief was beyond anything she had ever experienced. The heavy state of stupor Y/N had just been under seemed to subside immediately. She lifted her hand to examine her chest and its stark bareness unsettled her; as though everything that had happened since she met Klaus had been nothing but a horrendous nightmare. But then she discerned that blood had defiled her stunning gown, beneath where his hand had been. Klaus had tried to take her heart, but no such wound was in sight; she felt sick.

Damon had healed her; he was a vampire.

‘Damon… you…’ She started but Damon grabbed her head and pulled her in for a desperate kiss, his tears mixing with the blood on her cheeks. All at once, the world fell away and the sole thing she cared about was the blue-eyed man before her. But all too soon, with a relieved exhale, he broke their kiss and placed his forehead against hers holding either side of her face tenderly.

‘You’re okay… you’re okay…’ The words were directed at Y/N but it sounded like he was reassuring himself, like he was trying to convince himself she was truly there.

‘I thought you were… I thought…’  He mumbled, she cut him off,

‘I’m fine Damon, I’m okay… I promise.’ She whispered.

It was at this moment that the full events of the day struck her. She recalled all her late father’s lessons, everything she had learnt from him to make her the hunter she is today. And despite all these lessons, and all his warnings, she loves Damon; she loves a vampire.

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PART FOUR OF 'REVENANT' SERIES Damon Salvatore x Winchester!Sister!Hunter!Reader  The Vampire Diaries x Supernatural Mini-Series Synopsis: Y/N Winchester was tired of living in her brothers' shadows; she needed to do something for herself for a change. When she heads to Mystic Falls, a town she was always warned to stay away from, she finds she may have taken on more than she can handle. Will she be able to eradicate the supernatural from the uncanny town? Or will she find herself tangled amongst it? WARNINGS: Descriptions of a dead body. Mentions of Murder. Words: 2,724k Blog Masterlist / Series Masterlist <Previous Part | Next Part >

The faint light of a street lamp shone through the limpid drapes of the modest motel Y/N Winchester had called home for nearly four months. Upon opening her eyes, a feeling of apprehension settled in her stomach; today was the day of The Founder’s Ball, and the idea of Damon being her date both thrilled her and left her stricken. She had still not shaken the possibility of Damon being a vampire, albeit trying desperately not to entertain the thought.

She had hoped to sleep in this morning, though it seemed her body had other plans. Sighing, she turned over and glanced at the cheap alarm clock on her bedside, squinting at its bright red glow.

It was 3:46 a.m. 

She wanted nothing more than to roll over and go back to sleep, but she knew she had better things to do with her time. Icy air pricked her skin as she heaved the heavy canvas quilt off her body. As her hands abraded over her bare arms, trying to create some form of heat, Y/N shuffled over to the thermostat, involuntarily shivering when the temperature of the room, glowing blue on the small screen, met her eyes. She bumped it up five degrees, cursing the extra cost it would induce on her already unaffordable room tab. 

To successfully lead a life of hunting, financial fraudulence and deceit were a necessity. Usually, this would not have been an issue; Y/N possessed many fake cards with false names. However, quite suspiciously, she recently discovered that each of these cards, one by one, had become unusable and ceased to work. Y/N concluded, quite disgruntled, that this would have been her brothers' work. She supposed they were trying to draw her out of hiding. 

Luckily, obtaining false money was not a foreign practice for her; her brothers did not know this. The small sum she had managed to acquire would have to do for now. 

Y/N drew back the sheer drapes enough for her eyes to peer through, beside her building shone an old flickering neon sign, proclaiming the service station adjacent to her was open. Satisfied, the corner of her mouth turned up; she had wanted a coffee very much and there was no time like the present. While shrugging on her hoodie, which she had permanently borrowed from Dean, Y/N noted dejectedly that its smell of gunpowder and motor oil left her feeling homesick. Maybe she missed her brothers more than she let on. But she knew now was not the time to wallow in sadness. 

She collected her keys and walked out of the door, locking it behind her. 

The thunderstorms Mystic Falls had experienced in the previous three days had been bordering apocalyptic; Y/N, much to her vexation, had spent the entirety of the storm boarded up in her quaint motel room, wishing uselessly that she had not been rained in.

The young hunter had found herself restless. A 19-year-old girl named Amelia had gone missing in the area. Although the circumstances surrounding her disappearance were labelled as suspicious by authorities, apparently, it had not yet been long enough to presume her dead. Y/N wished her assumptions were not always so grim, but her uncanny pastime forced her to be pragmatic.

Realistically, going missing in this town meant she was most likely dead or hidden away as a blood-thirsty monster. 

Y/N could not decide what was a better fate for the poor girl. 

The Winchester thought that she at least deserved to have someone look for her, to make sure she was not still out there, even if what she expected to find was a harsh caricature of who Amelia once was. And the town authorities did not seem to think their services were necessary. 

Y/N knew what she was attempting to do was nearly impossible. Alone, she could not search the area needed to uncover a hidden corpse, and it was not exactly a chore where she could enlist the help of her friends. Nonetheless, she found herself trekking through the tenacious sludge the rain had left in its wake; her socks damp and toes stinging from the cold. She understood that she did not have all the time in the world; the impending doom the evening’s ball left looming over her shoulders had her shivering deeper than the frosty morning ether. However, she persisted anyway. 

Two and a half hours had passed when Y/N spied something out of the ordinary, and she could not believe her luck. 

The young girl cringed slightly; she knew thinking of it as "luck" was a bit distasteful. 

A rectangular concave of sodden earth could be seen under a scattering of leaves. Its shallow trenches with water congregating inside told Y/N the sunken ground had been caused by the rain, though its distinct shape still clashed with the surrounding natural terrain. A feeling of uneasiness settled in her stomach; she was almost sure of what she would find underneath. The burial probably would have been well concealed had it not been for the unbridled downpour of water.

Another half hour had passed before Y/N had completely uncovered the body from its prison of earth. Her nose wrinkled; the pungent smell of decay, now swarming the air. The young hunter had experienced no shortage of death in her lifetime, but the sight of the girl before her, lying bloated and green had Y/N staring through glassy eyes. This girl was younger than her. Her parents, no doubt, would be waiting, in anguish, for her to return home. Desperately anticipating a reunion that will never occur. Y/N quickly swallowed against a lump in her throat. Trying not to let her tears spill. 

The most wicked part of this, Y/N thought, is that they will never get any closure. Mystic Falls’ authorities, so closely entwined with the vampire-aware council, already knew she was a lost cause. That is why they were not looking for her.

She reached out with a shaking gloved hand and tried to turn her chin gently to the side, the rigour mortis had not yet subsided, making it more difficult. However, she found what she wanted. Two little puncture marks barely visible on the slimey distended skin confirmed what she already knew.

This girl was murdered by a vampire right under her nose. How were they eluding her so effortlessly?

Y/N decided she would not rebury her, but rather send a message to the negligent authorities. She was confident that they were completely infiltrated by the town council and knew her message would reach the right ears. 

She opened her backpack and got the supplies for a note; she knew she was acting both rashly and carelessly, but something needed to be done. 

With her still-gloved hands she tore a page she knew she had never touched from her notebook and began to scribble  

Dear whoever reaches her first,

I’ve decided to take responsibility for these “animal killings” myself. Given no one seems as if they are capable or care enough to do the right thing.

Y/N weighed her note down with a nearby stone a couple metres right of the burial, she then grabbed her golden lighter from her pocket and some accelerant she had in her backpack. The dampness of the area made for a difficult task, but eventually, the macabre burial was engulfed in roaring flames. Y/N tossed her shovel on top as well as her notebook and pen, knowing it would not do for any of this to be found and watched satisfied as the items crumbled to near nothing. 

After her belongings and the girl were burnt beyond recognition, she gathered some green leaves and piled them onto the blaze. She did not have much time to leave given any moment the leaves would begin to smoulder and billow up into the sky. She did not want to be anywhere near the area when the suspicious smoke was investigated. With tears still thick in her eyes she turned and hurried away.

The short drive to Caroline’s house in the early afternoon had been nerve-racking, never before had she experienced an event of this stature, and to say she was nervous would be a gross understatement. Caroline had been safekeeping her gown, neither girl thought the ornate garment should have spent its time hanging in the dingy motel Y/N currently called home. Caroline also insisted on doing the young Winchester’s makeup, declaring that Y/N’s modest gathering of supplies simply would not do.

The Winchester had spent a good hour scrubbing her body vigorously from head to toe. She had been covered in a thick layer of grime from her early morning escapade, and she had to make sure she was pristine and perfect for Caroline’s audience. 

She stalked tentatively up the front steps, and with barely enough time to lift her hand to knock, the door had already begun to swing open, a grinning Caroline on the other side, with pearly whites on full display. Her smile almost sent a shiver down Y/N’s spine. 

‘You don’t know how much I’ve been looking forward to this.’ Caroline reached out and grabbed her wrist, pulling Y/N along with more force than she thought her capable of. Finally, they halted in front of a mirror and Caroline had Y/N by the shoulders impelling her into a vanity chair. 

‘So… What's the plan?’ Caroline spoke causally once Y/N stopped struggling against her and settled into the seat. 

‘Well… Caroline… I don’t know…’ She rolled her eyes at Y/N’s lacklustre response.

‘Why did I see that coming from a mile away? Don’t worry, I’ll handle it.’ Caroline spoke as though she were burdened by this fact, but Y/N knew that she would love the opportunity to use her as a real-life doll. 

Y/N decided very quickly that she did not like people doing her makeup. She sneezed when her face was dabbed with powder. Her eyes prickled and watered uncontrollably when Caroline attempted to coat her lashes in mascara and ended up having to put it on herself only to be scornfully slapped when she got it on her eyelid that Caroline had spent ten minutes blending colourful eyeshadow to perfection.

If she had a dollar for every time Caroline had scolded her, she could afford a luxurious holiday across Europe.

Nevertheless, by the time Caroline had finished with her, not only was her face veiled in a modest yet flattering coat of makeup, but her nails glistened in a deep blood-like crimson; Y/N was fortunate that they already had a decent length to them albeit needing some desperate shaping. Caroline had Y/N sit completely still with her hands placed before her on the table, she was not going to let anything like the mascara fiasco occur again. Meanwhile, Caroline had also taken the time to place Y/N’s hair in an elegant coiffure. She looked simply stunning. 

‘You've done brilliantly’ Y/N’s smile was earnest,

‘Well, I’d take all the credit, but you don’t look half bad on your own’

Y/N ducked her head, feeling betrayed by the burning in her cheeks.

‘Thank you’ She muttered.

As Y/N waited the rest of the time needed for her nails to cure, Caroline put herself together so quickly it was astonishing. And now, she too, looked drop-dead gorgeous. After checking if her polish had set and nodding when satisfied, Caroline spoke up,

‘We haven’t got ages, Damon will be here to get you soon.’ Y/N could tell Caroline was trying to play nice but she could not completely hide her resentment as she voiced his name.

‘I suppose it’s time for our dresses!’ She continued, quickly leaving the room and entering again, holding garment bags above her head.

Y/N would be lying if she said she was not excited, she had not seen her dress since Caroline had whisked it away to her house. Y/N grabbed the dress and fled for the bathroom. 

As she zipped back the bag, careful not to snag any fabric, she was once again taken by its beauty. The crimson skirt of chiffon flowed like a sea of blood, the expensive velvet bodice holding tiny details of flowers barely visible to the human eye. The gown, while contemporary, held hallmarks of an old Victorian frock; Y/N’s memory had not done it justice. A smaller bag next to the dress held her accompanying gloves and jewellery. 

She slid the gown over her body with unparalleled care and spent a good few minutes bringing the zip up to her mid-back, it was a harder task than she had anticipated and she considered asking Caroline for help, though, she could hear a hushed conversation from the room she had just left. Y/N was certain Damon had arrived and she was not about to walk out half-dressed. After fasting her necklace and pulling the gloves to reach just over her elbows, she smoothed out the ornate fabric of the skirt while taking a deep breath. 

She looked at her profile in the mirror.

The woman casting back in the reflection looked like a stranger to her. She seemed as though she came from another world; a better one. Y/N never could have guessed that this lady spent her time hunting monsters, eating cheap, greasy takeout and sleeping in dilapidated motel rooms. Never would she have fathomed this woman had spent the earlier part of her day burning the corpse of a murdered girl. 

The lady before her should belong to a lavish home with every sumptuous possession she could dream up. If only that were the case.

This time Y/N looked at her reflection critically.

This would be the first time she had seen Damon since investigating the town’s archives and she had not completely convinced herself that Damon was not a vampire. On the other hand, she knew there was absolutely nothing that could be done at this moment, so she inhaled deeply in a redundant attempt to quell her nerves and exited the bathroom. 

She could swear her heartbeat would be heard for miles.

In the middle of the living room, he stood in a fitted black suit, with a rose of deep crimson attached at the collar. It matched her dress so perfectly she considered for a moment that it was not a coincidence. When she reached his eyes she spied that his jaw was left agape. Though quickly, as if attempting not to look caught by surprise he twisted his mouth into a lopsided grin. She tried not to appear smug at his obvious admiration, though she was sure her expression betrayed her. Suddenly, she was quite aware she no longer felt nervous.

‘Y/N, you look stunning.’ He spoke fervently, she felt her complacent expression rapidly shift to one of abash and when she said nothing he continued,

‘I brought you these, I thought they would suit your dress’ He held up a bouquet of the same flowers on his suit jacket and looked at Caroline, who had been lurking in the corner, knowingly. They had not been a coincidence.

‘Thank you, Damon, they’re lovely.’ 

Caroline offered to place them in a vase to keep them fresh while they spent the night out, when she left for the kitchen Damon stepped closer. He grabbed both her hands and stared intensely into Y/N’s eyes. She was sure he was trying to dazzle her, and it was working.

‘We can leave now, Caroline’s getting a lift from Elena.’ Y/N only nodded, her mouth agape, just as his had been. He began to draw her towards the front door and she barely had enough time to pull herself together and call over her shoulder,

‘See you soon Caroline. Thank you for your help!’

Damon opened the passenger door of his 1969 Chevy Camaro and gestured for her to take a seat. He ended up needing to help shove the fabric of her puffy skirt into the foot space, Y/N giggling as it continued to billow out from the door. After what seemed like ten minutes, Damon finally settled into the driver’s side and started the engine. 

As they sped down the street leading to the lavish venue of the ball she realised that in Damon’s presence she no longer worried about vampires, hunters and missing persons. She could not have foreseen the effect he had on her considering her unwelcome suspicions of him.

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ｒｅｖｅｎａｎｔ －ｔｈｒｅｅ

PART THREE OF 'REVENANT' SERIES Damon Salvatore x Winchester!Sister!Hunter!Reader  The Vampire Diaries x Supernatural Mini-Series Synopsis: Y/N Winchester was tired of living in her brothers' shadows; she needed to do something for herself for a change. When she heads to Mystic Falls, a town she was always warned to stay away from, she finds she may have taken on more than she can handle. Will she be able to eradicate the supernatural from the uncanny town? Or will she find herself tangled amongst it? WARNINGS: Descriptions of Violence. Words: 2,064k Blog Masterlist / Series Masterlist <Previous Part | Next Part >

Monsters consumed her entire world; Y/N thought of them every day and in every moment. She would watch people as she passed them on the street and wonder if they harboured any grim secrets; monsters were considerably more common than one would expect. However, there was a time when this was not the case. As a young girl, she never fully understood why her family moved from motel to motel, never finding a home to settle in. 

She and her brothers would stay in the shabby rooms, watching cartoons as their father disappeared for hours, only to return covered in grime and blood. Eventually, Dean joined in on these late-night escapades and soon after, Sam. They held hushed conversations over old-looking journals Y/N was never allowed to see. 

She had never known anything different; it came alongside her life of greasy diners and dingy mattresses.

However, she had always known that something was wrong. Even at a young age, she was bright enough to know that normal fathers did not teach their children how to wield knives and set traps. And they definitely did not pass their six-year-old children handguns. Her small hands and feeble arms barely able to hold on as it recoiled.

On the morning of her eleventh birthday, her father had taken her to an old friend, saying she needed a specific tattoo and that he would not ask questions. The young girl was shocked. Y/N knew this was not regular for kids her age; she supposed they were only for grownups. However, looking back, she recalled her brothers receiving them as well. Her father hushed and comforted her as she cried in his arms; the pain was like nothing she had ever experienced. When she drew back from his embrace, upon her upper left arm was now a star, enclosed by a circle of black, simple flames. Her father had told her that 'it was a small amount pain for a lifetime of protection from things that would hurt her'. She shuddered when she thought of what these 'things' might be. 

However, by her next birthday, she no longer had to wonder. Y/N would never forget the day she learnt about the frightening past-times of her family. It was a turning point in her life, something she could never change, no matter how many times since that moment she wished she could.

The tires of the Impala had rolled noisily over the gravel of the dimly lit car park. The motel's neon sign flickered, casting an eerie glow across its sleek, black metal as John Winchester pulled out onto the barren street. Inside the room, the air was palpable. Y/N remembered every detail of the night perfectly. The smell of old books and gun oil mingled with the acrid tang of old manchester. She recalled how the walls seemed to sag under the weight of time, the air thick with the scent of dampness and decay. She was supposed to be alseep as her adolescent brothers, Sam and Dean, sat hunched over a precarious table, staring fixedly at a map.

Across the room, Y/N lied on her side, back turned and clutching the pillow with white-knuckled fingers. Her eyes were wide, staring unblinkingly at the peeling wallpaper of the motel, the thump of her pounding heart reaching her ears. 

Y/N Winchester, the youngest of the three, had always had a lingering suspicion that her family was disparate from that of a regular household. Their late-night departures and whispered conversations had all hinted at something dark, something they deliberately withheld from her. 

But as she listened to the low humming of their voices, her whole world had unravelled. Monsters, demons, and things ‘that went bump in the night’ were real. And her family hunted them.

Dean's voice broke, brueque and urgent, breaking her from her spiralling thoughts. 

‘We've got a lead on a group of vampires, Sammy. Pack your bags. We’ll leave in the morning.’ Sam nodded, his gaze fixed on the map. 

Y/N's breath hitched. Vampires? She had always believed they were creatures of folklore and myth, the subjects of peoples’ nightmares. But suddenly, the reality of this fact became true for her. Had she not seen her father carve out intricate stakes? And replace the bullets in his guns with wooden alternatives? She had been too young to give any of these details consideration. Though as Y/N lay in the bleak corner of the room, absorbing the information her brothers had unknowingly disclosed, she felt remarkably obtuse.

Y/N sat up and allowed her consciousness to become known to her brothers. 

Her voice had shaken, fear entwined between each syllable. ‘Vampires?’

She had wanted to say more, but her words caught in her throat. 

Both heads snapped up, surprise and shock corroding their features. Dean's eyes widened, and he exchanged a quick, concerned glance with Sam.

‘Y/N, you shouldn't be awake,’ Sam had said, his voice holding an edge of distress,

‘No, I need to know,’ Y/N insisted, her hands trembling. ‘What else don’t I know? Why do you do this?’

Dean sighed heavily, the weight of this fretful secret hardening his expression. The brother did not know how their father would react to their carelessness; she should not have found out like this. 

‘Sit down, Y/N. We'll explain.’

As they spoke and described the monsters of this sphere in great detail, Y/N listened, perturbed yet enthralled. Her childish, insular world expanded with each revelation; the bleakness that her family fought against was far more vast than she had any right to envisage. 

The creatures from her childhood nightmares were real; her father and brothers took it upon themselves to eradicate these fiends.

As days bled into nights, the Impala sped down highways and quiet country roads, carrying the Winchesters from one hunt to the next as it always had, only now, Y/N knew why. She observed and learned, engrossed in every piece of information they shared. 

Her father had attempted to teach her how to wield a gun many years prior, though he eventually gave up, her negligent demeanour discouraging. But with the threat of monsters now a burden upon her shoulders, Y/N reconsidered her juvenile disinterest and learned to fire a gun. She allowed the recoil to sting her palms until callouses formed. 

She memorised incantations, reciting them like a mantra to banish unwelcome spectres. Once a foreign language, the lore became familiar, etched into her memory like the back of her hand.

As weeks turned into months, which then rolled into years, Y/N’s alteration became undeniable; she was a hunter. 

Her knowledge was vast; her determination and resolve were unyielding. Yet, she would always be the neonate of the Winchester clan, never a hunter in her own right.

This fact was the catalyst for her departure to Mystic Falls.

Y/N Winchester hardly believed that a single town could have such a vast history of misfortune; why did this small quaint community hold such an aptitude for catastrophe? Vampires, Witches and Werewolves were just a few of the creatures that Y/N was sure stalked the streets of Mystic Falls, and with all of the disasters claiming innocent lives, she was almost certain that the uncanny town had its fair share of ghosts as well. 

Over the decades, Mystic Falls' history bore witness to many tribulations. Tragedies were not at all uncommon for the abnormal town. Yet its reputation as a charming, radiant community still proceeded it. Y/N had to admit that maybe the council was more successful than she gave it credit for, only not successful enough for her hunters’ disposition.

She found it most curious that the Lockwood family, from what she could discern, had seemingly been cursed with lycanthropy for generations, and despite this, still participated in the council’s hunting of vampires. 

Y/N’s research led her to Civil Hall, which housed the incredibly grim and macabre Founder’s archives. 

Beginning in the early 19th century, the Founding Families, including the Salvatores, Lockwoods, Gilberts, Forbes, and Fells, laid the foundation for the thriving community of Mystic Falls. Their historical influence reverberated through the town's architecture, traditions and the very spirit that defined it. Y/N found that each family brought a unique facet to the tapestry of Mystic Falls. They built homes, a school, and a place of worship. As the seasons passed, Mystic Falls flourished, its streets lined with elms, its gardens ablaze with vibrant blossoms and the town square; a bustling hub of commerce and camaraderie.

Amidst this idyllic setting, the Founding Families recognized the coexistence of the supernatural world alongside their own, understanding that the existence of these paranormal fiends could not be known by the greater population. So they established the Town Council, set on eradicating these monsters from their picturesque town. Under their leadership and protection, the Council became the linchpin of Mystic Falls' unique social fabric. And although they attempted to cover the town’s dark secret with reports of ordinary things, it was a delicate balance and one that required vigilance and discretion. However, the holes in their stories did not go unnoticed by the young Winchester.

She had found that in 1864 during the Civil War, Confederate Soldiers had fired on Fell’s Church, believing the establishment had been harbouring weapons. Twenty-Seven people were killed. However, this report did not sit well with Y/N; its contents held many hallmarks of the recent ‘animal killings’. To the young hunter, it sounded like a coverup. 

Y/N travelled to the forsaken church nonetheless, bearing an EMF Meter and salt. She was unsurprised to find that the building held no signs of the odious spirits you would expect. Though, beneath its old withering structure, lay an abandoned tomb; Y/N shivered, wondering what had been inside it.

Y/N was sure to return to the archives in Civil Hall as there was too much to look at in one session. And upon her second trip, she uncovered something that left her feeling uneasy. In storage were artifacts from a heritage display recently held by the Founder’s Council; within said display was a registry listing the names of the guestlist for the original Founder’s event. 

The document had read,

'The Founding Families of Mystic Falls, Virginia welcome you to the inaugural Founders Council Celebration on this, the twenty-fourth of September in the year Eighteen Hundred and Sixty Four.'

Her gloved fingers skimmed down the old parchment until she reached a name written in an even, ornate scrawl. She felt her heart beating in her throat, 

'Damon Salvatore'

No, she thought, he couldn’t be…

She hollowly noted the name of his brother 'Stefan Salvatore' stetched onto the aged paper as well. Y/N, heart sinking, recalled her initial suspicion of Damon on the night they met; she had felt saddened by the idea of him being a monster. Though, she had quickly ridiculed these ideas as she learnt of his surname. Y/N dejectedly reminisced Caroline’s warnings, and suddenly, she heard them in a new light. 

'Y/N, he’s bad news; how many times do I have to tell you before the message sinks in?'

Y/N had thought Caroline’s dislike for Damon was due to some trivial gossip. Though was it possible her admonitions hinted at something much more sinister?

She shook her head as if trying to banish unwelcome thoughts; once again, she concluded that she must be overreacting. He hailed from a Founding Family; they did not take matters of the supernatural lightly. And besides, she had heard him talk of the animal killings with the sheriff herself. He could not be a vampire. 

Perhaps these people on the registry had been namesakes for the brothers? Surely, in a community that valued its heritage so much, it would not be unusual to be named for your late ancestors? And as a hunter, how could her instincts be so wrong? So out of touch? 

Y/N Winchester had not yet fallen in love with the blue-eyed man, though with each conversation and interaction, Y/N knew falling in love would be as easy as the phrase proposed; as effortless as falling down. 

No, she thought, this time more confident, he couldn’t be. 

TAG LIST: @venomsvl

ｒｅｖｅｎａｎｔ - ｔｗｏ

PART TWO OF 'REVENANT' SERIES Damon Salvatore x Winchester!Sister!Hunter!Reader  The Vampire Diaries x Supernatural Mini-Series Synopsis: Y/N Winchester was tired of living in her brothers' shadows; she needed to do something for herself for a change. When she heads to Mystic Falls, a town she was always warned to stay away from, she finds she may have taken on more than she can handle. Will she be able to eradicate the supernatural from the uncanny town? Or will she find herself tangled amongst it? WARNINGS: Drinking, Descriptions of Violence. Words: 2,103k Series Masterlist <Previous Part | Next Part >

A month had passed, and Y/N still found herself in the preternatural town of Mystic Falls; with every passing moment, her case became more thorny and twisted. Though, there were two things of which she was certain.

Vampires in this town did not succumb to their usual prison of daylight; the only logical explanation for a lack of night prowlers was that they simply did not need to prowl at night.

Secondly, the reason Y/N could not get any information from the townspeople was because they genuinely did not know anything; she had the nagging feeling their minds were patched up with fake accounts of nefarious events that they were unfortunate enough to witness. Y/N shuddered to think that maybe her memories had been played with, too; after all, she would not know. Y/N took to writing down everything she uncovered; if she were right about the memory tampering, all of her evidence and theories would be there to rediscover.

Y/N begrudgingly gazed upon her tenuous evidence in the form of a journal. Countless farfetched “animal attacks,” both historical and recent, missing persons and hospital break-ins. She knew three blood bank robberies had occurred within a fortnight, and yet no action had been taken by order of the sheriff. It was redundant to attempt a case so premeditatedly shrouded by the authorities, whose ill-judged aims of keeping locals nescient only paved the way for more of these “animal attacks”. 

The stalemate the young Winchester found herself in was beyond frustrating; she could not deaden the voice calling for her brothers’ help in her head, though her stubbornness prevented her from doing so. The further this case progressed, the more impossible it became, its virulent tendrils unfurling in every which direction. 

But the vampire case was not the only thing that frustrated Y/N; she found herself becoming quite comfortable in the uncanny town. Remaining in the same place for a couple of months gave her a strange sense of stability she had never experienced before. She found herself building relationships, and as depressing as it was, for the first time in her life, she could confidently say she had friends. 

The renowned Mystic Grill played a pivotal part in this; every other night, the locals would flock to the establishment, blissfully ignorant of the wary pastimes of their councillors. It was the seemingly tight-knit nature of Mystic Falls that first attracted Y/N to the town, and although she had only resided there for a short while, she had already begun receiving invites to their extravagant founders' events. 

Of course, Y/N was wise as to what these seemingly inconspicuous gatherings really were, though she still found the fact she was already being invited heartening. 

Though friends and a sense of community were not all that was new, Y/N tried desperately to quell the feelings she had growing for the sardonic Damon Salvatore. Of course, she had had fleeting crushes before, but this time, she found herself infatuated. She was kicking herself for ever allowing it to happen. She would go out of her way to see him, convincing herself that she was only investigating the case, trying to get into the inner loop of the founders' council. Deep down, Y/N knew she was lying to herself. 

The sound of a knock on her motel door snapped Y/N from her thoughts. Hastily shoving her journal under her bed and tucking her wooden-bullet-filled revolver in the waistline of her jeans, she strode over and glanced through the glass peephole, finding Caroline, an overbearing but lovely girl Y/N had come to call a friend, standing on the other side clutching what looked like a flyer. With a sigh, Y/N heaved the faulty door open,

‘Hey Caroline, I wasn’t expecting you here; excuse the room, it’s a mess.’

‘I don’t know why you stay here; I keep telling you we have a spare bed.’ Caroline’s response was doubtful; she already knew what Y/N would say,

‘I’ll get my own place eventually; for the meantime, I’m happy staying here.’ 

Y/N liked the idea of staying in Mystic Falls, continuing the relationships she already held dear. She thought of her brothers and how long her anonymity here would last; how long did she have before they found her and forced her back?

‘Oh well, I didn’t come here to judge your living conditions; I came here to give you this.’ 

Caroline held out the piece of paper Y/N had thought was a flyer, though upon closer inspection, she could see it was an invitation to a ball.

‘Another event?’ Y/N’s words were incredulous,

‘I know, we always have them, but you need to come to this one.’

‘I’ve needed to attend the last few founders' events.’ Y/N’s fingers formed quotation marks as she spoke; Caroline ignored her jab,

‘Elena, Bonnie and I plan on heading into Richmond to find gowns; you’re welcome to join.’ 

Although Y/N acted as though she held herself aloof from these girly hangouts, between being an only daughter and living on the road, they had been something she had never experienced before, and she could not help the excitement and giddiness she felt every time she was invited. 

‘Okay, I’ll see if I can make it… Will Damon be there?’ Caroline’s eyes rolled so far back into her skull that Y/N was worried they would be stuck there. 

‘I’ve told you a million times, and I’ll tell you again. He. Is. Bad. News.’ She very carefully emphasised each word. It was Y/N’s turn to roll her eyes,

‘You know, I don’t understand why you’ve got such a big problem with him; you can tell me you know.’

‘Just trust me, okay? You don’t want to get mixed in with him; it doesn’t end well for anyone.’

Y/N wished she would heed Caroline’s advice; she could not afford to get mixed in with anyone, bad news or not; her lifestyle did not allow it. Though for a century and a half now, it seemed Mystic Falls was in constant danger from the Supernatural, would it be that unforgivable if she stayed and protected these people? Protected her friends? 

Y/N quickly learnt that Caroline was a fan of advice; if anything happened, she had an opinion about it. For the most part, Y/N found it endearing; she could tell it came from a place of care. So why was it that she was so vehemently against Damon? What was it about him that caused Caroline’s dismay? These questions riddled Y/N’s thoughts as she sat alone in the very spot she met the dark-haired man, knowing that it would not be long before he sat in the vacant space beside her. 

‘Why the long face?’ The satirical voice she had come to adore sounded from her left, and the face in question quickly shifted to a grin,

‘I knew you would be showing up soon; that’s enough to cause despair in anybody.’ Or at least Caroline, Y/N thought sardonically. Damon’s hand quickly covered his heart, his expression mocking offence.

‘You wound me.’ 

Damon pulled the stool next to the Winchester girl out from under the bench and lowered himself onto it with a hefty sigh, catching the eye of the young bartender,

‘House bourbon please…’ He glanced at the empty crystal glass clutched in her hand, ‘make that two,’ he added,

‘Thanks.’ She muttered, 

‘You know, I’ve noticed you never buy me drinks.’ He teased, eyes crinkling with his smile, Y/N scoffed, 

‘Nice try, Damon; I’ve seen your house. You don’t need me to buy you drinks.’ Her eyebrows furrowed,

‘What is it that you do for a living any way? How can you afford a house like that?’ Damon did not answer, instead, he waved his hand dismissively. He never answered personal questions; it was beyond frustrating. However, she understood she was being hypocritical; none of her new-found friends knew anything about her, nothing real anyway. She continued,

‘It doesn’t look like you have the time for a job; you spend all your time here.’ Y/N spoke with fake judgment; she spent a fair amount of her time here as well. She raised her eyebrows expectantly, hoping her statement would elicit some sort of answer, but to no avail; Damon simply took a sip from his glass and moved to another topic,

‘Did you get your invite to the ball? I heard the girls were going to get gowns. ’ His tone was teasing as he wiggled his eyebrows. Y/N rolled her eyes,

‘Yeah, I’ve also been invited to the shopping trip; I don’t know what I’m going to get; I've never been a dress person.’ 

‘Well, whatever you end up wearing, I’m sure you’ll look stunning; that’s something we have in common.’ Y/N's cheeks heated at his comment; she should be used to it by now; their whole relationship was built on cheap pick-up lines.

‘You flatter me.’ A chuckle escaped with her words, 

‘Speaking of the ball… Were you going with anyone?’ His words were hesitant but aired with confidence, 

‘You’re kidding, right? You’re just about the only person I know in town.’ Y/N was incredulous,

‘Well.. in that case… I suppose I better take you.’ 

Two days passed, and Y/N found herself in the back seat of Elena Gilbert's SUV, trying desperately to quell the feeling of giddiness settling in her stomach; the idea of a girls-day-out excited Y/N in a way she had not anticipated and although she had tried very hard to act aloof, she fears she had not been successful. 

Every time she complained about dresses, shoes and jewellery, Caroline, Elena, and Bonnie shared knowing looks. 

The day passed slowly, Y/N quickly learning to nod politely at the dresses she believed were only ordinary and gush over the ones she thought were stunning. By the end of their trip, Y/N knew that the girls would pass as goddesses at the ball, their embellished gowns complimenting each one of them wonderfully. Though she had not foreseen how difficult it would be to come to a decision herself, each dress she tried on never quite hugged or sat the way she wanted it. But when she glanced up at a mannequin she had yet to see, the dress she knew would be hers lied upon its shoulders. 

The burgundy gown adorned a tight-fitting velvet bodice, its sweetheart neckline drawing out to meet hanging chiffon off-shoulder sleeves. Y/N thought the skirt looked like deep gushing blood as it extended from the pointed waist of the bodice to the floor, its chiffon overlay flowing delicately to meet the rest of the dress on the ground. Complimenting the dress was a pair of long gloves made to match its ornate material and a necklace of warmly coloured pearls encrusted with a brilliant red jewel. It was utterly perfect. 

She drew closer to the gown, fingers stretching out to glide over the impossibly soft textile and called the saleswoman over, asking politely if she could have the dress and accessories to try on. As she held it up before her in the changing room, she was astonished to realise the material was even more stunning up close. 

She took timid steps from the changing room, treating the gown with utmost care. As she turned the corner, Y/N heard subtle gasps come from her entourage, her cheeks suddenly deepening to a pretty shade of vermillion. 

‘Oh my goodness, Y/N, you’re stunning’, Bonnie spoke earnestly, Elena nodding in agreement.

‘Hot and sexy are the words I’d use; whoever you’re bringing is a lucky guy’, Caroline added. Y/N was sure she suddenly looked culpable; Caroline’s eyes narrowed.

‘You know, you never mentioned who was taking you, only that somebody had asked.’ Caroline’s voice was suspicious, 

‘Well, um…’ Caroline raised her eyebrows as though she was already anticipating Y/N's answer, 

‘Damon may have asked me the other night.’ Caroline closed her eyes and sighed,

‘Y/N, he’s bad news; how many times do I have to tell you before the message sinks in?’ Her tone was frustrated,

‘You’ve never actually told me why he is “bad news.”’ Y/N’s fingers formed quotation marks around her last words. Bonnie, Elena and Caroline exchanged glances; they knew something they were unwilling to disclose to her, and Y/N would find out what it was. 

A/N: I wanted to add a reference for the dress Y/N found, though I could not find one that matched what I pictured, so I decided to draw what I was envisioning instead.

Here is a link to the image: https://i.pinimg.com/750x/60/af/61/60af61d9f9d20b5a4afa52cc71505831.jpg

Revenant ✢ Damon Salvatore ✢ Masterlist

The Vampire Diaries and Supernatural Mini-Series

Synopsis: Y/N Winchester was tired of living in her brothers' shadows; she needed to do something for herself for a change. When she heads to Mystic Falls, a town she was always warned to stay away from, she finds she may have taken on more than she can handle. Will she be able to eradicate the supernatural from the uncanny town? Or will she find herself tangled amongst it?

Important Note: This is a mini-series, I have come up with an original line of events as it is not set during any particular plotline for either show, I wanted this fic to remain as spoiler-free as possible while also making the two source materials easy to incorporate.

Disclaimer: I will probably write more parts for this series than I have listed below, though I currently only have planning and material written out for the chapters already listed.

Table of Contents:

Part One

Part Two

Part Three

Part Four

Part Five

Part Six

Part Seven

Part Eight

Part Nine (Coming Soon)

ｒｅｖｅｎａｎｔ - ｏｎｅ

PART ONE OF 'REVENANT' SERIES Damon Salvatore x Winchester!Sister!Hunter!Reader  The Vampire Diaries x Supernatural Mini Series Synopsis: Y/N Winchester was tired of living in her brothers' shadows; she needed to do something for herself for a change. When she heads to Mystic Falls, a town she was always warned to stay away from, she finds she may have taken on more than she can handle. Will she be able to eradicate the supernatural from the uncanny town? Or will she find herself tangled amongst it? WARNINGS: Drinking, Descriptions of Violence. Words: 2,257k Blog Masterlist / Series Masterlist Next Part>

Y/N Winchester’s brothers always warned her to stay away from Mystic Falls; if a hunter crossed its border, they may as well have been signing their death certificate, but, of course, she did not listen. Y/N wanted to prove herself and show them that she was not second-rate. And besides, would it not be immoral to allow these killings to continue unchecked?

Y/N glanced down at the evidence she had gathered about the town; it was apparent that the area was plagued with vampires, and the authorities had an abominable habit of covering it up. Coroner reports were sprawled across the small motel table in front of her, all claiming the same thing: that its victim died of an animal attack. However, reports of punctured necks and bloodless corpses affirmed otherwise.

The vampires of Mystic Falls were careless yet evaded scrutiny effortlessly.

Speaking to the locals achieved little, and she always walked away empty-handed. They had no accounts of antisocial behaviour or people who only seemed to make appearances at night. When speaking to witnesses, they stood unsure and dubious, as though blank spaces riddled their memories. Something else was at play here, and Y/N would uncover it, no matter the cost.

Her phone's small screen flashed again, accompanied by its trilling ring for what seemed like the umpteenth time that day, vibrating and moving against the table it lay upon. The name ‘Dean’ was written in large letters across its display. Y/N sighed and lifted the device to her ear.

‘What do you want?’ She grilled in annoyance,

‘Oh, she finally answers,’ His voice heavy with the sarcasm the young Winchester had grown accustomed to over the years.

‘Yes, I finally answered, though that didn’t answer my question, what do you want?’ Y/N reprised

‘Y/N, you know exactly what Sam and I want. We haven’t seen you in weeks, and we have no idea where you are and if you’re safe; before you picked up the phone, we had no idea if you were even alive. You need to end this stupid kamikaze mission and come back to the bunker. It’s stupid to hunt alone; you could be killed; don’t pretend that’s not what you’re doing. We aren’t stupid.’ His lecture rolled off his tongue hot and fast, Y/N rolling her eyes in response, wishing for a moment that he was there to see it.

‘No need to worry about me, brother. I can handle myself, and you know it.’ She countered,

‘Y/N…’ But before he could continue, she hung up, putting her phone on silent and shoving it into her jacket pocket.

Only two seconds passed before it began to ring again, though she ignored it just as thoroughly as all his previous calls. Typically, Y/N’s brothers would have just tracked her down, though she was smart enough to disconnect all means of GPS location and give them and everyone they knew a wide berth. She even had precautions in place that prevented them from finding her by means of magic, reducing them to countless feeble attempts of merely asking her for her location, and she would never waver. 

If Y/N had a dollar for every time Sam or Dean rang or texted, she could stop all the credit card fraud she was committing and live the lavish life a hunter could only dream of.

Once again, she looked down towards her incongruous evidence; she had reason to believe the town council was an inner circle of people in Mystic Falls responsible for the lazy cover-ups and the nugatory upkeep of the town’s safety. The council consisted of members from a group called ‘The Founding Families’, and her research showed they had occupied the small Virginian town since its forming in the mid-1800s, and it seemed to her Mystic Falls has been having occasional run-ins with vampires ever since. Suddenly, both of her brothers' warnings began to make more sense.

Y/N sighed and wrapped an overcoat around her jacket. She could do with a drink; besides, it wouldn’t hurt to try and gather more information about this uncanny town.

The door of the grill whined as she pushed it open, the crowded chatter of the busy Friday night meeting her ears immediately. She forced her way through the traffic of the locale and straight to the bar, deciding to sit next to a dark-haired man clad in a leather jacket with his shoulders hunched over a glass of whiskey. She looked toward the young bartender cleaning out a crystal glass with a towel he had just pulled from his shoulder; the sound of her stool being dragged from under the bench brought his attention to her. 

‘I’ll have a double shot of Jameson, neat, please.’ She asked sweetly, hoping the boy would not ID her. She was already 21, though the nature of her pastimes meant she only had fake identification, and any excuse not to use it was excellent in her eyes. Much to her relief, the boy placed the glass in his hands before her and began to pour her drink. She pulled her phone from her pocket, a feeling of exasperation making itself known as she gazed upon the nine missed calls from Dean and the four from Sam. Answering the call earlier had only made them worse. She had barely brought the glass to her lips when the dark-haired stranger spoke up,

‘I can’t help but notice you’re a new face around these parts; what brings you to Mystic Falls?’ His accompanying smirk was flirtatious, and though only an idiot would overlook the apparent sublimity of his features, she was in no mood for mucking about. She returned the smile regardless, hoping to scour him for more information. 

‘What makes you think this is a new face?’ She asked, using the same sweet tone she used with the bartender.

‘Trust me, I’d recognise a face like yours if I’d seen it before.' She wanted to ignore the cheap pickup line, though she could sense a blush creeping onto her cheeks. Y/N could hardly believe that this man she had only just met could affect her so quickly, 

‘Well, I’m not exactly new; I’ve been visiting for around a month.’ Y/N didn’t want to say too much; she had not yet developed a backstory. He raised his eyebrows, waiting for her to continue,

‘I was thinking of moving here permanently, though, now I’m not so sure with all these killings… by animals, of course…’  

Y/N decided it was best to get straight to the case; she was not here to waste time. Average eyes would not have noticed how his eyes tightened ever so slightly when she mentioned the animal attacks.

‘And now, why would that concern you?’ He used a light tone, though traces of accusation lay beneath. This did not go unnoticed by her; was it possible he was one of them? Her chest clenched; she had just met the man, though the idea of him being a monster saddened her in a way she could not have anticipated. She smiled nonetheless and made sure it reached her eyes.

‘I’ve made a hobby of hiking, and I think it would be unfortunate to have my cortical artery torn from my throat, wouldn’t you say?’ She did not know what possessed her to speak these words; could she have been any more obvious? He leaned closer, his piercing blue eyes adhered to her. Her breathing halted.

‘Yes, very unfortunate…’ he leaned back again before chuckling and exclaiming loudly,

‘How rude of me; I just realised I never introduced myself. I’m Damon Salvatore.’

Suddenly, it all made sense; he hailed from one of the founding families she had read about, Salvatore. Y/N felt a peculiar sense of relief. He was not a vampire like she initially suspected but rather part of the secret council hellbent on eradicating them, albeit not successfully. He held his hand out expectantly, and when she connected her own with his, she noticed a very conspicuous lapis lazuli ring adorning his fingers. It resembled that of an ancient family heirloom.

‘I’m Y/N, Y/N Walker.’ She thought it was best not to use her real surname; her family had gathered quite the reputation within the supernatural community, and this was the name printed on her fake ID anyway.

‘I think you’re quite right not to hike in the woods, Y/N, but I hope that won’t deter you from remaining in this town; it would be sad to lose a pretty face like yours.’ Y/N could feel her heart beating; she was sure the whole room could hear it. Y/N quickly looked down when she felt another blush forming. Damon turned to the bartender and slid her empty tumbler back over the bench,

‘She’ll have another Jameson, this time on me.’ 

From then, the conversation moved on to trivial topics, and Y/N found it difficult to proceed in her inquiry, given she was posing as an oblivious newcomer. A little while later, a woman clad in a sheriff uniform approached the pair, donning a solemn expression.

‘Sheriff Forbes…’ Damon nodded in acknowledgement; this was another name Y/N recognised from her research of the town, another founder. Y/N studied her face; she looked unsettled and nervous, as though she wished to speak with Damon but refrained in case of eavesdroppers.

She sent a pointed glare towards Damon and nudged her head ever so slightly in Y/N’s direction. Damon took this as an opportunity for introduction,

‘Liz, this is Y/N, she’s new in town.’ Liz smiled and sent Y/N a small wave,

‘It’s nice to meet you, though; I’m sorry to barge in like this. Do you mind if I borrow your friend for a moment?’ She spoke kindly, though her nervousness was present in her voice.

‘No, not at all; I should probably be heading off soon anyway.’ Y/N smiled at the sheriff before pulling her phone from her pocket and trying to seem engrossed in something displayed on the small screen. Though her attention was drawn entirely to the whispered conversation between the two founders

‘There was another body found earlier, ruled as an animal attack again; of course, though, there is only so long before people begin questioning these reports.’ Y/N could feel Liz’s eyes glancing toward her spot on the barstool; Y/N was careful to continue scrolling through her phone aimlessly until the sheriff looked away.

‘Liz, you know I’m doing everything I can to find these culprits; soon enough, they’ll make a mistake, and we’ll be able to make our move against them.’ Damon also looked at Y/N from the corner of his eyes before very deliberately looking back to Liz. Was it possible they could be suspecting her? She was new in town, after all. For the first time, it occurred to Y/N that maybe Damon had been investigating the ‘animal killings’ this evening as well, and now Y/N found herself in the middle of it. She took this as her leave,

‘I should probably head off now; it was lovely meeting you both.’ Damon and Liz smiled in response, traces of their secret conversation disappearing behind amiable façades. 

Her brothers’ phone calls continued; Y/N was kicking herself for answering the previous day; she should have seen it would make them so much worse. Sam’s name illuminated the screen of the vexing device, and for a moment, she considered crushing it under her foot just to silence the inconsequential piece of plastic and metal. Though reason returned to her just as quickly as it left, and instead, she lifted the mobile to her ear,

‘Hello, Sam.’ She sighed into the phone. She knew the calls would not stop either way now; she may as well entertain them. She heard Sam give a subtle gasp as though the sound of his sister’s voice shocked him, and that was probably not far from the truth.

‘Y/N, hear me out before you hang up, okay?’ She stayed silent, waiting for him to continue,

‘Dean and I really need to know where you are; we’re supposed to look out for you, and before you give me that “I can look out for myself” crap, it’s irrelevant, we know you can look out for yourself, but you don’t need to, whatever hunt you’re on Dean and I can help you, we’ll do it together.’ Sam spoke sincerely, 

‘It’s a kind offer, Sam, but seriously, I know what I’m doing, and besides, inviting you and Dean on the first hunt I’m attempting by myself defeats the whole “I’m going off on my own for a little while” scenario, wouldn’t you say?’ 

‘Please, Y/N, just tell us where you are,’ Sam implored. Y/N could hear the low grumbling of the eldest Winchester in the background, pleading for the phone she imagined. 

‘I’m sorry, Sam, but I think I should do this alone’. She said, ‘I’m going to hang up now, okay?’

‘Wait! Y/N’ But before Sam could say anything more; she disconnected the call; Y/N closed her eyes and sighed. She hated going behind her brothers’ backs, but she was sick of her abilities being overlooked. 

Going on hunts with them meant staying behind in the motels, researching, while her brothers went out and got their hands dirty, returning triumphant from defeating the monsters Y/N had helped them discover. What good was all the combat training and exercise she did if she could never put it into action?

No, she would not invite her brothers; she would do this alone.

A/N: I designed my own page break for this series; what do you think? 

Next Part >

The Day Before ✢ Damon Salvatore

Synopsis: The reader knows she is dying and to save Damon the pain of her death she makes an extremely difficult decision.

Damon Salvatore x Reader, female pronouns.

Warnings: Angst, Death. 

Masterlist

Notes: This is my first time writing for Damon Salvatore, hopefully, this is the first of many.

Words: 1,538

Y/N’s heart sunk as she glanced down at the beads of blood glistening on the tissue she clutched in her hand, she had received news the day before that her cancer had metastasised to her lungs, though she did not realise that her condition would worsen so swiftly. 

Y/N knew she would not be able to hide it for much longer, every day she became more crippled and with every passing moment her façade threatened to unveil. 

Her friends had experienced too much loss and the idea of adding to it made her stomach churn sickeningly. She would not allow them to grieve her; which is why she was leaving. 

Through clouded eyes she began bundling all of her possessions into a small suitcase, she did not pay much mind to what she grabbed, it would not need to last her very long. 

Though when she reached a small photo album sitting on her bedside table her heart jolted, with shaking hands she flipped open the small winsome book, and sure enough, smiling back at her were the faces of her beloved friends. 

She brushed her fingers over each and everyone of their grins, smiling through her tears as she recalled the moment she had taken it. Though her hand halted when she reached the last face, she could have sworn she felt her heart beating in her throat.

Damon.

It had not yet occurred to her that she would never see him again. The pain she felt at that realisation was crippling. She would never feel his gentle caress against her body or his lips on her cheek; Damon’s touch was lost on her forever. All that she had to carry her to her deathbed was his picture and her feeble memory, and that would never be enough.

Before she met him Y/N would not have believed a love so potent was possible, though she was very agreeably proved wrong. Even while living in Mystic Falls with all its theatrical and apprehensive infamousness, Y/N had never been happier. And that was entirely the work of Damon. 

Y/N knew her death would break him and she knew the kind of person Damon became when he was broken. If she left without an explanation he would eventually make his own assumptions and any assumption he made surely could not hurt him like the truth. 

She knew he would try and find her, she could only wish he was never successful. The decision she was making was far from easy, but it was easier than knowing he was mourning for her; hurting because of her.

Damon was always abundantly clear on the life he wanted for them, he yearned to turn her and live for eternity at each other's sides. Though Y/N was never sure what she wanted, she did not want to be rash and he respected that. Though now any chance of her accepting his vision was lost perpetually. She could never become like him, the possibility was lost the moment she was diagnosed with cancer; vampire blood could not fix her now.

Y/N was riddled with guilt and regret, she knew she should have said yes when he first told her what he wanted; because now in the face of death, she yearned for it too. For months the abstraction of the undying life she could have had with Damon had been eating away at her. She laughed humourlessly at the malevolent irony of her situation.

Y/N could not bear to spend another second thinking of the near future and what could have been, so to ease her mind she thought of the day before. The day that, albeit unknowingly, would become their final moments together. It was not a grand affair, they had simply spent the day in each other's company. 

They watched TV, had a nap and Damon had even offered to cook dinner, and even though he failed miserably it had still meant so much to her. She believes he noticed she was feeling unwell and was doing what he could to make her better.

But it was the final moment that had meant the most to her; when he wrapped her in his arms at the end of the day as he was leaving and whispered that he loved her. Tears ran hot down her cheeks at the realisation that it would be the last time she heard him say those words. 

A sudden feeling of lightheadedness had Y/N rushing to sit on the edge of her bed, she should not be stressing herself out like this, she knew it would only worsen her condition. Though she could not stop the unfathomable feeling of guilt stewing within her, It made her sick; she could not leave him without so much as a goodbye. 

Going against everything she had planned since her diagnosis she turned to the messily packed suitcase and began unravelling it. 

Another wave of sickness overcame her, though this time disparate. Y/N felt her body go slack, her possessions slipping from her weak grasp and falling back into their places in the case. Her body slipped downwards from the bed and found itself docile against the floorboards. 

She had started coughing up blood again when the realisation crushed her. This was it. Just as she decided to see Damon karma unfurled its caustic tendrils and enveloped her. She swore she could feel the life depleting from her body. Y/N felt akin to a spectre as darkness shrouded her being like a void, plunging her into nothingness. She was lost to the world. Her glassy, lifeless eyes stared above her; forever immortalised with the fear of never seeing him again.

Y/N had not been answering her phone and Damon knew the consternation he felt brewing because of it was completely irrational, but he found himself headed to her house regardless; he wanted to see her anyway.

When Y/N’s house met his line of sight the sound of a lack of life immediately registered with him, he could not hear her breathing nor the beating of her heart and there was certainly no sound of her usual bustle. 

He concluded that she must not have been home, though before he could turn around to leave he noticed with furrowed eyebrows that her car was still in the driveway. He picked up his pace as he closed the rest of the distance.

He pushed open the creaking old door and when the smell of her exposed blood met him immediately, his heart was sent into a panicked frenzy. Before a second had passed he used his speed to send him straight into her bedroom. But the macabre sight on the floor halted him. He discerned that her skin was the colour of death and the stillness of her frame was much the same. 

He repudiated this thought as he felt the veins grow black beneath his eyes, his fangs coming to meet his wrist. He sped to her limp body and placed his bloodied arm against her cold lips, they remained unmoving. 

‘No...’ he barely gasped out, ‘You need to drink this Y/N, it’ll help you.’ 

He shook her shoulders, her whole body moving with the disruption. Damon’s vision dimmed through the welling of his tears. He forced her taut jaw wider trying to force down his blood. He choked down his sobs as he continued to plead with her.

‘Please drink, you need to drink… Please.’ 

His weeps quaked in his chest, unwillingly observing her lack of heartbeat. He removed his wrist from her lips, replacing it with his mouth and breathing air into her empty lungs. He placed his hands on her chest and tried desperately to recall the steps of resuscitation, but his efforts were futile. 

With an all-consuming sense of despair, his hands fell slack from her inanimate frame and he acknowledged what he had known all along. 

She was dead.

The sobs that passed his lips were inhuman in sound, with shaking hands he used the pad of his fingers to gently pull the eyelids over her glassy eyes. Damon then pulled her torso up to his chest and rested his chin on the top of her head. 

For the first time since he had arrived the sight of a half-packed suitcase entered his concentration. He realised hollowly she had been trying to leave. She knew she was dying and was trying to leave anyway. He wanted to feel angry at her, but no emotion could supersede the severe sense of dejection he was under. 

Who knows how long he would have been living in blissful ignorance, thinking he resided in a sphere where she still existed, a world where she still lived. 

Damon knew he could not live in a world where she did not exist. This was a pain he could not overcome, a pain he would not overcome. Her death left his humanity in shreds, and Damon knew at once he could no longer function with it extant. His emotions left him like a flame getting put out, the enthralling love he had felt for her the day before all but a memory.

Here is the link to a second part if you're interested. I thought it would be interesting to write Damon with no humanity, Part two.

Every comment and piece of advice is welcomed and appreciated <3

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All my works, minus headcanons, use female pronouns for the reader. Besides this, I keep the reader undescribed, the only filler I use being 'Y/N'.

Where you can find me: 𝔭𝔦𝔫𝔱𝔢𝔯𝔢𝔰𝔱 𝔞𝔠𝔠𝔬𝔲𝔫𝔱 | 𝔞𝔯𝔠𝔥𝔦𝔳𝔢 𝔬𝔣 𝔬𝔲𝔯 𝔬𝔴𝔫

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M I S C E L L A N E O U S

One Little Difference ✢ Draco Malfoy and Y/N had been friends as children; their families were of high status, and it looked like they would spend the rest of their lives together. But all of this changed when Y/N was sorted into Gryffindor and became estranged. Worst of all, she fraternised with the enemy. 

Other characters I will write for: Thomas Shelby, Peter Parker, Charles Xavier (McAvoy), Robb Stark, Jon Snow, Gendry Baratheon, Dean Winchester and Sam Winchester.

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