Entry tags:
[TVD] Expectations
Title: Expectations
Fandom: The Vampire Diaries
Verse: canon
Relationship: none
Summary: Damon realizes that physical age doesn't have to define him.
Notes: Long time no see! This is a character study brought on by a late night conversation (one of several, I'm afraid) between me and![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
whitemage about adulthood and transitions and how it must suck for Damon, forever stuck upon that cusp.
The worst part about being eternally twenty five: the constant second guessing. Stefan had it easy. At seventeen, people were expected to go to school and play nice - and no matter how much Damon tormented him about it? Stefan was guaranteed a social life.
Adulthood - early 20's adulthood - was far more precarious. Shifting job schedules, rigorous classes, and even the demands of parenthood limited his pool of normalcy. Everyone expected him to make something of himself. Otherwise he was some idiot skulking around town, and that raised more questions (and attention) than he wanted.
Damon knew the drill. It hadn't changed over time, either. Every town had adults - well meaning, caring grown ups - who wanted to know their newcomers by asking them the most invasive of questions.
What did you study? What career would you like to have? Are you planning on settling down?
Thank /fuck/ people were starting to marry later in life. He was starting to wonder how many towns, how many little wrinkled grandmas could ask him over and over again. They usually meant well.
The twinkles in their eyes always foretold of granddaughters they wanted to marry off. Damon held back a bark of a laugh every time; he wasn't marriage material. He'd never be marriage material. Not as long as eternal youth pulsed through his veins.
Mystic Falls, though, defied those expectations and those meaningful questions that nudged under his skin. No one cared, because no one wanted to think about their own bleak futures. Or so he had initially thought. A few cursory months had illuminated the harsh truth: young adults fled town as soon as they earned their (hard-fought) freedom.
In the last two years he could call this quaint town home? Only three had been roughly his age, and two were dead. The other wasn't always on speaking terms with him. Stefan, on the other hand..... that buffon had dozens of people he could've relied on, if he had so chose.
Yet he had alienated a whole slew of them without batting an eye.
No wonder the Falls didn't whine when he slid his way into Elena's social circle: there wasn't a more age-appropriate one, unless he wanted to hear about middle-aged men cheating on their wives.
But he still needed something, anything to kill his eternal time. He almost compelled his way into a job once (the legit kind, a bartender at the Grill) - almost, because then some vampire had waltzed into town and Elena's neck needed saving.
Town hero wasn't supposed to be his day job. Far, far from it - but while the kids were cramming knowledge into their little noggins, who else had the time (and energy)?
who do you want to be? What would you like to accomplish?
He had once dreaded those questions. Now, he thought, he could embrace them with open arms. He knew who he was. No amount of second guessing would ever change it.
Fandom: The Vampire Diaries
Verse: canon
Relationship: none
Summary: Damon realizes that physical age doesn't have to define him.
Notes: Long time no see! This is a character study brought on by a late night conversation (one of several, I'm afraid) between me and
whitemage about adulthood and transitions and how it must suck for Damon, forever stuck upon that cusp.The worst part about being eternally twenty five: the constant second guessing. Stefan had it easy. At seventeen, people were expected to go to school and play nice - and no matter how much Damon tormented him about it? Stefan was guaranteed a social life.
Adulthood - early 20's adulthood - was far more precarious. Shifting job schedules, rigorous classes, and even the demands of parenthood limited his pool of normalcy. Everyone expected him to make something of himself. Otherwise he was some idiot skulking around town, and that raised more questions (and attention) than he wanted.
Damon knew the drill. It hadn't changed over time, either. Every town had adults - well meaning, caring grown ups - who wanted to know their newcomers by asking them the most invasive of questions.
What did you study? What career would you like to have? Are you planning on settling down?
Thank /fuck/ people were starting to marry later in life. He was starting to wonder how many towns, how many little wrinkled grandmas could ask him over and over again. They usually meant well.
The twinkles in their eyes always foretold of granddaughters they wanted to marry off. Damon held back a bark of a laugh every time; he wasn't marriage material. He'd never be marriage material. Not as long as eternal youth pulsed through his veins.
Mystic Falls, though, defied those expectations and those meaningful questions that nudged under his skin. No one cared, because no one wanted to think about their own bleak futures. Or so he had initially thought. A few cursory months had illuminated the harsh truth: young adults fled town as soon as they earned their (hard-fought) freedom.
In the last two years he could call this quaint town home? Only three had been roughly his age, and two were dead. The other wasn't always on speaking terms with him. Stefan, on the other hand..... that buffon had dozens of people he could've relied on, if he had so chose.
Yet he had alienated a whole slew of them without batting an eye.
No wonder the Falls didn't whine when he slid his way into Elena's social circle: there wasn't a more age-appropriate one, unless he wanted to hear about middle-aged men cheating on their wives.
But he still needed something, anything to kill his eternal time. He almost compelled his way into a job once (the legit kind, a bartender at the Grill) - almost, because then some vampire had waltzed into town and Elena's neck needed saving.
Town hero wasn't supposed to be his day job. Far, far from it - but while the kids were cramming knowledge into their little noggins, who else had the time (and energy)?
who do you want to be? What would you like to accomplish?
He had once dreaded those questions. Now, he thought, he could embrace them with open arms. He knew who he was. No amount of second guessing would ever change it.
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I'm never sorry, only amazed at how much we discuss the human condition and how much of that relates back to the stories we write :")