![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
[Vampire Diaries | A Normal Life] Presents
Title: Presents
Fandom: Vampire Diaries
Universe: AU (A Normal Life)
Relationship: Stefan Salvatore / Elena Gilbert
Summary: After the mayhem that had occurred the day before, Stefan hadn't expected much for his 17th birthday. His girlfriend Elena proves him very, very wrong.
Notes: HAPPY BIRTHDAY ASHLEIGH DARLING!!! I hope your sweet 17th is a fabulous one. ♥ I couldn't ask for a better baby sis.
Some people welcomed their seventeenth birthdays with cake at midnight or birthday presents from their loved ones. Stefan, on the other hand, got witches hat pancakes. His older brother - his stupid, loveable douche of a brother - had thought it a charming joke at the time.
Or, more realistically, as Damon had explained, "I didn't have time to make tiramisu." Considering that Damon had also been possessed by their crazy ancestor mere hours ago, Stefan hadn't expected anything. He really, truly hadn't.
For as long as he could remember, the Salvatores celebrated birthdays in style, with loud family dinners spoken in Italian, pidgin Arabic (Stefan & Mom were the only ones fluent), or even Spanish depending on the relatives that dropped by. This year, no relatives could head to Mystic Falls. Mom and Dad were still digging up ancient artifacts in Italy; their Memphis relatives had Model UN the following morning; their cousins in Atlanta had a friend's wedding; and even their maternal grandparents had been unexpectedly swamped with work.
Still, each relative had showered him with affection from afar. His parents had called from Italy (a feat, considering the hour) and wished him the very best. Mom giggled a little too vibrantly, causing Stefan to glance over his shoulder at Damon every thirty seconds or so. Damon always shrugged, in that half-aloof, half-knowing way, refusing to divulge any familial secrets for the day.
Last year, Stefan would've pried those secrets from his older brother's fingers, but last year, Stefan had no idea of the secrets that had weighed down Damon's conscience. Last year, Stefan would've never guessed that Damon could keep a secret - and last year, half the family had treated them to cannolis in Boston anyhow.
(In hindsight, Stefan should've realized that Morie's "sparklers" had been honest-to-goodness magic, especially when no one else in the North End batted an eye at the fire lighting from her fingertips.)
After he had finished talking to his Memphian cousins, Stefan had retreated to the kitchen, with hands wrapped around a mug as he poured over old grimoires. His ancestors had prided themselves on alchemy - the ancient art of creating new spells and potions through combining chemicals and magic - and Damon had proudly carried that tradition for years.
"It's about time you start learning a spell or two," Damon had told him, lightly kissing Stefan on the forehead before disappearing into his grad school research. Each synthesis recipe was dense, packed to the brim with notes in the margins ("one pinch of saffron or two?") and shortcuts to make the next attempt easier.
Occasionally, Stefan recognized Damon's handwriting on various post-it notes, each one more audacious than the one before it. Some of his ideas were reasonable ("think we could sub paprika here?") while others were not even worth mentioning ("FREE BOOZE, WHO'S WITH ME?").
He had just finished reading a chapter on elixirs when he heard the light, dainty footsteps of his girlfriend. Not even glancing up, Stefan tried to close the cookbook as he said, "Hey, Ele--"
She pressed her lips against his, gently leaning on the counter for support before letting go.
"Happy birthday!" Elena giggled, holding up a auspiciously-wrapped box in her hands. Good. It looked normal from here. Stefan's shoulders sagged, as he let go of a breath he didn't know he was holding.
First Damon with his witches-hat pancakes; then Tyler had dropped by with the worst gift known to mankind - the entire FullMetal Alchemist series, with a card in Tyler's sloppy handwriting that read:
(Stefan hadn't exactly seen the series, but goddammit Tyler, some secrets were supposed to stay secret!) Gingerly unwrapping the present, Stefan stared blankly at the deep wok, silicon spatula, and various pieces of baking equipment in his hands.
"Huh?" He glanced up at her. "I'm not a baker."
"No, you're a wizard," she politely pointed out, sliding down on the seat next to him and gesturing towards the cookware. "And one of the most important things you can give a new wizard is his synthesis gear. The Salvatores are supposed to be the best of the best, right?"
Stefan tilted his head at her ever so slightly. "You asked Damon, didn't you?"
"Maybe." Elena bit on her lower lip, gently fingering the necklace he had gotten her for her birthday only a few months ago. "I was gonna get you that new Percy Jackson book, but this... this seemed more important."
Only a few months ago, they were both convinced that they were normal teenagers with a normal romance. Bonnie's arrival - and now, the strange photograph of the orphan girl from Atlanta - had told them otherwise. They were destined for something greater than this town, and for the sake of God, Stefan hoped that he could shield her from anything that went bump in the night.
It was bad enough that he had to brandish his wand and fight, but Elena? Elena deserved none of this. She was supposed to remain in the dark; she was supposed to have given him birthday sex, not this... this synthesis gear to help him master a skill he didn't want to have. For a few seconds, Stefan inspected the cookware, feeling the wok's weight before he set it all aside.
"Thank you," he said softly, kissing her on the cheek. "Hey, you know what? If I have all this nice new gear, we should synthesize something with it."
Her eyes widened. "Huh? You... you mean it? You and me?"
"Well, yeah. What Damon won't know won't kill him." Plus, Stefan figured, his girlfriend could keep him grounded if the magic overwhelmed him too much. There had to be a first time for everything, right?
Carefully, he held out his ancestor's grimoire, allowing Elena to pick one of the starter recipes. She hesitated for a few seconds, pointing towards an enchantment charm.
He nodded, rolling up his sleeves and reaching for the spice rack. "Alright, then. Let's get started."
After half an hour of mishaps and false starts ("Elena, that's just going to make your necklace rust!"), her silver necklace started to faintly glow as Stefan carefully poured crushed vervain inside it. It hovered above her chest, turning a faint pink, before it lightly rested against her (equally pink) cardigan.
"Looks like it worked," Stefan said, not hiding his relief as he brushed the vervain off his fingers.
She whistled softly. "So what does it do?"
"It should be a talisman now. Think of it like... a protection charm. If a vampire wants to eat you, the necklace'll create a microscopic barrier between your epidermis and its fangs."
"Stefan." She giggled, muffling her laughter with her hand as she sat on the counter and pulled him onto it beside her. "The less scienc-y version? Please?"
"Fangs go ka-boom," he said monotonously, struggling to keep his face even as he mimed the action beside her.
Just when he had distracted her long enough to hear her genuine laugh - one that sounded like a million tiny bells as she said "Wait, but I'm the one that protects you!" - he pulled her into a kiss. So maybe his girlfriend shielded him from bullies and jerk jocks more than he had shielded her from vampires and other witches, but he figured, he has the rest of his lifetime to repay the favor.
As they continued to kiss - with Elena scooting onto her boyfriend's lap and Stefan running his hands through her hair - they forgot about the outside world. In this moment, Stefan had shown her his entire world (all of it) and she hadn't dismissed any of it as strange or weird or otherworldly.
Instead, she had accepted him wholeheartedly for who he was, and he couldn't thank her enough. For a millisecond, as he let go to breathe, he noticed her necklace glowing with a faint purple edge as it brushed against his skin, before it resumed its normal silver color.
Elena, instead, was far more preoccupied with unbuttoning Stefan's shirt. As she hastily pulled it off, he staggered back, gesturing towards the stairs.
"We have a bed, Elena."
"I know," she lazily sighed, pulling off her own cardigan to reveal a camisole. "Think of it as... mm, my real birthday present this year."
"Again, my room's upstairs." He laughed, holding her in his arms as they rush back to his bedroom. At least in the safety of his room, he doesn't have to worry about Damon "accidentally" encountering them. Again.
A few hours later, Damon knocked on Stefan's door and peered inside ever so slightly. His lips twitched upwards as he remarked, "I'd deliver my present, kiddo, but I think Elena already has me beat."
Elena giggled, leaning back triumphantly on Stefan's headboard with the utmost grace possible (a small miracle, considering Damon was standing right there). "Damn right I did."
Fandom: Vampire Diaries
Universe: AU (A Normal Life)
Relationship: Stefan Salvatore / Elena Gilbert
Summary: After the mayhem that had occurred the day before, Stefan hadn't expected much for his 17th birthday. His girlfriend Elena proves him very, very wrong.
Notes: HAPPY BIRTHDAY ASHLEIGH DARLING!!! I hope your sweet 17th is a fabulous one. ♥ I couldn't ask for a better baby sis.
Some people welcomed their seventeenth birthdays with cake at midnight or birthday presents from their loved ones. Stefan, on the other hand, got witches hat pancakes. His older brother - his stupid, loveable douche of a brother - had thought it a charming joke at the time.
Or, more realistically, as Damon had explained, "I didn't have time to make tiramisu." Considering that Damon had also been possessed by their crazy ancestor mere hours ago, Stefan hadn't expected anything. He really, truly hadn't.
For as long as he could remember, the Salvatores celebrated birthdays in style, with loud family dinners spoken in Italian, pidgin Arabic (Stefan & Mom were the only ones fluent), or even Spanish depending on the relatives that dropped by. This year, no relatives could head to Mystic Falls. Mom and Dad were still digging up ancient artifacts in Italy; their Memphis relatives had Model UN the following morning; their cousins in Atlanta had a friend's wedding; and even their maternal grandparents had been unexpectedly swamped with work.
Still, each relative had showered him with affection from afar. His parents had called from Italy (a feat, considering the hour) and wished him the very best. Mom giggled a little too vibrantly, causing Stefan to glance over his shoulder at Damon every thirty seconds or so. Damon always shrugged, in that half-aloof, half-knowing way, refusing to divulge any familial secrets for the day.
Last year, Stefan would've pried those secrets from his older brother's fingers, but last year, Stefan had no idea of the secrets that had weighed down Damon's conscience. Last year, Stefan would've never guessed that Damon could keep a secret - and last year, half the family had treated them to cannolis in Boston anyhow.
(In hindsight, Stefan should've realized that Morie's "sparklers" had been honest-to-goodness magic, especially when no one else in the North End batted an eye at the fire lighting from her fingertips.)
After he had finished talking to his Memphian cousins, Stefan had retreated to the kitchen, with hands wrapped around a mug as he poured over old grimoires. His ancestors had prided themselves on alchemy - the ancient art of creating new spells and potions through combining chemicals and magic - and Damon had proudly carried that tradition for years.
"It's about time you start learning a spell or two," Damon had told him, lightly kissing Stefan on the forehead before disappearing into his grad school research. Each synthesis recipe was dense, packed to the brim with notes in the margins ("one pinch of saffron or two?") and shortcuts to make the next attempt easier.
Occasionally, Stefan recognized Damon's handwriting on various post-it notes, each one more audacious than the one before it. Some of his ideas were reasonable ("think we could sub paprika here?") while others were not even worth mentioning ("FREE BOOZE, WHO'S WITH ME?").
He had just finished reading a chapter on elixirs when he heard the light, dainty footsteps of his girlfriend. Not even glancing up, Stefan tried to close the cookbook as he said, "Hey, Ele--"
She pressed her lips against his, gently leaning on the counter for support before letting go.
"Happy birthday!" Elena giggled, holding up a auspiciously-wrapped box in her hands. Good. It looked normal from here. Stefan's shoulders sagged, as he let go of a breath he didn't know he was holding.
First Damon with his witches-hat pancakes; then Tyler had dropped by with the worst gift known to mankind - the entire FullMetal Alchemist series, with a card in Tyler's sloppy handwriting that read:
Survival is the only way, Ed Stefanizo. Live on and learn more about alchemy!
(Stefan hadn't exactly seen the series, but goddammit Tyler, some secrets were supposed to stay secret!) Gingerly unwrapping the present, Stefan stared blankly at the deep wok, silicon spatula, and various pieces of baking equipment in his hands.
"Huh?" He glanced up at her. "I'm not a baker."
"No, you're a wizard," she politely pointed out, sliding down on the seat next to him and gesturing towards the cookware. "And one of the most important things you can give a new wizard is his synthesis gear. The Salvatores are supposed to be the best of the best, right?"
Stefan tilted his head at her ever so slightly. "You asked Damon, didn't you?"
"Maybe." Elena bit on her lower lip, gently fingering the necklace he had gotten her for her birthday only a few months ago. "I was gonna get you that new Percy Jackson book, but this... this seemed more important."
Only a few months ago, they were both convinced that they were normal teenagers with a normal romance. Bonnie's arrival - and now, the strange photograph of the orphan girl from Atlanta - had told them otherwise. They were destined for something greater than this town, and for the sake of God, Stefan hoped that he could shield her from anything that went bump in the night.
It was bad enough that he had to brandish his wand and fight, but Elena? Elena deserved none of this. She was supposed to remain in the dark; she was supposed to have given him birthday sex, not this... this synthesis gear to help him master a skill he didn't want to have. For a few seconds, Stefan inspected the cookware, feeling the wok's weight before he set it all aside.
"Thank you," he said softly, kissing her on the cheek. "Hey, you know what? If I have all this nice new gear, we should synthesize something with it."
Her eyes widened. "Huh? You... you mean it? You and me?"
"Well, yeah. What Damon won't know won't kill him." Plus, Stefan figured, his girlfriend could keep him grounded if the magic overwhelmed him too much. There had to be a first time for everything, right?
Carefully, he held out his ancestor's grimoire, allowing Elena to pick one of the starter recipes. She hesitated for a few seconds, pointing towards an enchantment charm.
He nodded, rolling up his sleeves and reaching for the spice rack. "Alright, then. Let's get started."
After half an hour of mishaps and false starts ("Elena, that's just going to make your necklace rust!"), her silver necklace started to faintly glow as Stefan carefully poured crushed vervain inside it. It hovered above her chest, turning a faint pink, before it lightly rested against her (equally pink) cardigan.
"Looks like it worked," Stefan said, not hiding his relief as he brushed the vervain off his fingers.
She whistled softly. "So what does it do?"
"It should be a talisman now. Think of it like... a protection charm. If a vampire wants to eat you, the necklace'll create a microscopic barrier between your epidermis and its fangs."
"Stefan." She giggled, muffling her laughter with her hand as she sat on the counter and pulled him onto it beside her. "The less scienc-y version? Please?"
"Fangs go ka-boom," he said monotonously, struggling to keep his face even as he mimed the action beside her.
Just when he had distracted her long enough to hear her genuine laugh - one that sounded like a million tiny bells as she said "Wait, but I'm the one that protects you!" - he pulled her into a kiss. So maybe his girlfriend shielded him from bullies and jerk jocks more than he had shielded her from vampires and other witches, but he figured, he has the rest of his lifetime to repay the favor.
As they continued to kiss - with Elena scooting onto her boyfriend's lap and Stefan running his hands through her hair - they forgot about the outside world. In this moment, Stefan had shown her his entire world (all of it) and she hadn't dismissed any of it as strange or weird or otherworldly.
Instead, she had accepted him wholeheartedly for who he was, and he couldn't thank her enough. For a millisecond, as he let go to breathe, he noticed her necklace glowing with a faint purple edge as it brushed against his skin, before it resumed its normal silver color.
Elena, instead, was far more preoccupied with unbuttoning Stefan's shirt. As she hastily pulled it off, he staggered back, gesturing towards the stairs.
"We have a bed, Elena."
"I know," she lazily sighed, pulling off her own cardigan to reveal a camisole. "Think of it as... mm, my real birthday present this year."
"Again, my room's upstairs." He laughed, holding her in his arms as they rush back to his bedroom. At least in the safety of his room, he doesn't have to worry about Damon "accidentally" encountering them. Again.
A few hours later, Damon knocked on Stefan's door and peered inside ever so slightly. His lips twitched upwards as he remarked, "I'd deliver my present, kiddo, but I think Elena already has me beat."
Elena giggled, leaning back triumphantly on Stefan's headboard with the utmost grace possible (a small miracle, considering Damon was standing right there). "Damn right I did."