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Porn. With petticoats.

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“Okay, this is disturbing.”

“It's Damon.”

“Point.”

Damon has nice handwriting for a sociopath, Elena thought idly, and then she remembered they were talking about the 1930s, so all sociopaths had pretty nice handwriting back then. She probably should ask Alaric.

On the other hand... No, she really shouldn't.

“Is it what I think it is?”

“If you mean a whole pile of Scarlett/Rhett fix-it fanfiction, then yes,” Stefan confirmed calmly. He didn't even take his eyes off his journal. Well, it wasn't his idea to check what's in the old boxes stashed in the library.

“What?”

“Scarlett/Rhett. Fix-it. Yes.”

“I can't, Stefan. I lost the ability to can. It's so wrong on so many levels.”

“This probably isn't the right moment to tell you that Damon compelled Margaret Mitchell to write a sequel with a happy ending?”

“But Margaret Mitchell never wrote a sequel!”

“After a while Damon decided she couldn't do it right, so he snapped her neck and came back to writing AUs.”

“Wait, is he still doing it?”

“Not at the moment, no. Last I checked his livejournal, he was more of a Buffy/Spike shipper, but that's just a phase. He always comes back to Rhett/Scarlett eventually.”

***

Two hours later...

“I don't know what's worse. The fact that there's Rhett/Scarlett porn here, or that there's so little of it.”

“Damon is complicated.”

“By the way, you do know that there is a multi-chapter story in which Rhett has a younger brother, and they both hit on Scarlett?”

“Yes, Elena, I am well aware of that.”

“And they do pretty interesting things together.”

Stefan's face was poker face.

“I admit nothing.”

“Oh my God, there is a picture. A drawing. A fanart. There is a 1938 Gone with the Wind porn fanart. With petticoats.”

“Well, as far as I recall, 1860s involved petticoats.”

Elena stopped for a moment and stared at the picture some more, not entirely sure if she wasn't holding it upside-down. Stefan helped.

“I had no idea people could do something like that,” said Elena slowly.

People can't.”

“Oh.”

***

“Stefan...”

“Yes?”

“Tell me, does it make me a bad person if I want to buy some flowers and leave them on Damon's bed? With a note saying: 'You are the light of my life and the fire of my loins, and we shall compel a priest, get married and be together as man and wife until the end of days'?”

“Is this a quote?”

Elena gave him a page.

“It makes me a terrible person, doesn't it?”

“A little. I mean, those are Damon's deepest, darkest fantasies. Your kink may not be my kink and so on. You shouldn't mock someone's fanfic.”

“I thought so.”

Stefan's face still was poker face.

“Elena, can you stay here by yourself for fifteen minutes or so?”

“I think I can. Why?”

“I'm a Ripper, I don't care. I'm getting the flowers.”