#Katerina here…beloved

[grantmentis]

PWHL Ottawa: all smiles because tomorrows game day!

[everye]

day 23-24: PRICE OF SALVATION

[the-worm-jester]

I went through a phase a while ago where I was really obsessed with learning the etymology of different names and sometimes I randomly remember that I have that information so here's the etymology of different Pathologic Characters names!

I am by no means an expert. Most of this is based off research I did a while ago. I used the anglicized spellings of their names because that's how they're spelled in the English translation.

Daniil: the name Daniil is Russian, it has Hebrew origins and means "God is my judge"

Dankovsky: the suffix -sky/ski/skiy means that it's affiliated with something, so it could mean "from dankov" or "descended from dankov" it has russian origins

Artemy: comes from the Saint Artemius, but it also has Greek origins, meaning "devoted to Artemis"

Burakh: likely derived from the Slavic name Burak, which means beetroot, but could also be from the Turkish/Arabic name "Buraq" which means lightning.

Clara: Latin origins, it means "bright" or "clear". She's named after Saint Claire of Assisi.

Eva: Hebrew origins and means "life" or "living one"

Yahn: Latin and Hebrew origins, means "God is gracious"

Alexander: Latin and Greek origins, means "protector/defender of man"

Saburov/Saburova: could be derived from the Arabic Sabur, meaning "patient or enduring" (this one I'm not sure about I could be wrong)

Blok/Block: German and Dutch origins, literally means "block" like a block of wood. It could also come from Old English and mean "Black"

Katerina: Greek origins, means "pure or clean"

Yulia: Latin origins, means "youthful"

Maria: has multiple meanings coming from Hebrew, Greek, and Latin. It could mean "bitter" or "rebellious" but it could also mean "beloved" or "of the sea"

Stanislav: Slavic origins, means "achieving glory and fame"

Rubin: Jewish and Latvian origins, means "behold, my son"

Peter: Greek origins, means "rock or stone"

Andrey: Greek origins, means "warrior" or "manly"

[shini--chan]

Yandere!Cardtalia!Alfred x Fem!Reader? Reader is a lady-in-waiting to a potential bride for the King of Spades. The King is inviting the potential bride and her entourage to balls & soirées and visiting the manse to flirt. It’s just that the King’s interest is not who everyone in the court thinks it is.

Here, have a short story. I simply couldn't hold myself back

Yandere Cardtalia! America x Reader /Danger-in-Waiting/

Trigger warning: alcohol, threats, coercion, abuse of authority

The King tended to visit after dinner. By now, you knew him well enough to know that he couldn't stand the way Lady Katerina tended to drag meals out. Asides, post-dinner tended to be more peaceful in the Sapphire House, with the potential brides all being far more mellow after gorging themselves full. 

Except for you, that was. 

His Majesty was busy playing checkers with the lady, and he was sporting a strained smile. It wasn't because he was losing - far from it. Black was winning, from what you could judge from your perch. No, it was because Katerina couldn't stop talking. 

For over half an hour she had been chittering about this and that. Her voice rose and fell, accelerated and decelerated in a pattern that had become soothing to you over the course of years. She was just so excited that she could talk to the man of her heart that all the social cues of discomfort and imminent violence sail over her head. 

Alfred's left eyes twitched and he forced his smile wider. 

Normally, you sit down next to your lady and nudge her discreetly. However, this isn't a normal situation - as soon as you would've sat at the table, the king would turn his attention to you. It would either be directly, in form of comments and eye contact, or covertly, as a stray hand on your thigh or something equally lecherous. As much as you cherished Katerina Lazarusa, it wasn't worth the damage he would wreak. 

The best case scenario would be if he would dismiss her as a bride-to-be and take another girl as his wife and queen. Alfred Jones wasn't a good man, and you had the misfortune to witness it firsthand. Tragically, your intuition told you it was too late for such a fate.

One gloved hand covered one of your lady's daintier ones and Alfred hushed her with a bemused expression. You could tell it was fake, it didn't reach his eyes, even his blue-tinted glasses couldn't hide that from you. When he spoke it was with honey in his voice. Without a shadow of a doubt, you knew that it was to hide the knife in his heart. 

“Darling. Would you mind summoning your charming lady-in-waiting here? I think I need her help defeating you.”

No, that is a lie. On second thought, was he implying something deeper and more convoluted?

“Sore loser, are you now?”, she teased him. Oh, if only she knew. 

You set aside the shift you were repairing, needles pricking your fingertips as you did so. There was only so much you could do to disguise the loathing and anxiety that was cooking in you. 

The king puts a hand on his heart in an exaggerated fashion. The other lowered the glasses so that he could look over the rim properly. They were blue-tinted because they were more a demonstration of wealth and power than to act as a crutch to a deficit. More so that people couldn't see the whites of his eyes clearly, so that he could hide his true intentions from them. 

“My beloved, have mercy on my poor soul will you!”, he exclaimed. Katerina threw her head back and laughed and clapped her hands together in delight. He held her heart in his head, and knew all its twists and turns. A kind word here and wink and a slightly salacious smile there and she was swooning. Hook, line and sinker, really. 

That was the problem. Even as she waved you over, you couldn’t counteract her orders - it would undermine her authority and standing in front of the regent. As you sat down, you couldn’t whisper warnings in her ear because she was so smitten with him that she would immediately dismiss them. Even after he left you wouldn’t be able to share her plight, because the image of a conniving glutton wouldn’t watch the image of the rosy hero she held of him. 

You sat down between them at one side of the table and took stock of the situation. Alfred was winning; his greed for victory wouldn’t even allow him to lose on purpose. Katerina was more in need of your help, especially with how the king’s courting was dulling her wits. Still, the king rudely reached for your chair and dragged you closer by the seat of it. 

“Your Majesty!”, you exclaimed and gave him a harsh look. He only smiled smugly and replied: “You can hardly help me from so far away. If the dear little lady here hears us discussing tactics, then she’ll wipe the floor with us.”

Most ladies-in-waiting would be honoured to receive so much attention and flattery from such a high-ranked royal, yet you didn’t fall into that category. Instead, you felt fear and revulsion. You sent your lady a beseeching look, and prayed that she would come to your aid. 

She just smiled wickedly and drummed her fingers on the table. If only she could just be as possessive of Alfred and prone to jealousy around you as she was around the other candidates! But no, while she wouldn’t allow you to “bad-mouth” his Highness in any way, she accepted and knew that he wasn’t your type and that you would never make a move on him, or reciprocate any advances from him. There had been that carriage ride to the capital months ago when the both of you and her other ladies-in-waiting had talked about what they had desired in a spouse. The criteria you had put forth definitely hadn’t been that of the mighty regent. 

A booted foot traced you leg from your ankle to your knee, the tip of the shoes catching your satin overdress and the first few petticoats and dragging them along. You did your best not to scream. 

“Meet me in the gardens when I’ll return to the main palace”, he whispered in your ear. Having his voice suddenly in your ear made you jolt in surprise. He made nothing of it, and reached forward to move one of his stones. 

There was no use counteracting the king in a brazen manner. He would sooner let heads roll than allow you to define him. Mirroring him, you whispered your acceptance back: “I will.”

You were tipsy by the time you had to be in the gardens. After the checkers game, a backgammon set had been packed out and then you had been cajoled into playing round after round of card games. At least it had been with the other ladies-in-waiting and you had snagged the opportunity to swap seats with Rita. Nevertheless, as evening had passed into night and the moon had risen on the horizon, Alfred had ordered rum and cognac and sweet wines to be bought and had proceeded to get the ladies drunk. 

It was your luck that you had obtained a chair next to one of the plants in the winter garden. The mountain ash now had a chance of dying of alcohol poisoning. 

Alfred had tried to keep his attention as much as the circumstances and common courtesy had allowed, so you weren’t as sober as you would have liked. It could be worse, that was what you told yourself as you waited beneath the cypresses. 

“I am a forest, and a night of dark trees: but he who is not afraid of my darkness, will find banks full of roses under my cypresses”, came the whispered voice. The king appeared from behind one of the trees and fixed you with a smile. The shock from his sudden appearance caused you to shy away. 

“Quoting long dead philosophers doesn’t suit you, my king.”

Oh, how you would have loved to slap him for his brazeness. However, at the end of the day you were just a lower ranked noble, the third daughter of a lowly baronet that could count herself lucky to have ascended so high, and he was the king that you had pledged yourself to. There was a guard outside of hearing range and still within sight, one that would arrest you if you dared to raise a hand against your sovereign. 

“What would suit me then?”, he asked slyly. He approached you and tugged his gloves off. The white leather gloves had stayed on the whole night, even when he had played cards and smoked. It was like he regarded Katerina and her staff as filthy, with you being the exception. 

Before you knew it, he had grabbed you by the waist and reeled you in. 

“Observing proper etiquette, that is what would suit you”, you snapped. Here you were walking the tightrope - you could curse or yell at him, insults wouldn’t do. As your lord and god-appointed protector, he could easily throw you to the wolves if you displeased him. He had done that with a few courtiers that had recently irked him just last week. 

Instead of backing off, he buried his face in the crook of your neck. He had already tucked his glasses away so you didn’t even have the satisfaction of him breaking his own glasses. He chuckled and backed you into the tree. The impact caused you to gasp. 

“Always so cute. I so want to drag you to my quarters here and now.”

You were wise to not ask him what was holding him back, he could see that as a sign for him to give him into temptation. That was the last thing you wanted. 

“I would appreciate it if you would act like this to Lady Katerina instead of me”, you remarked as you futilely pushed at his shoulder. Despite how lazy and easy going he pretended to be, he was a man that continuously prepared for war, and you could feel the fruits of that beneath your fingers. 

He sighed and backed up so that he could look you in the eye. 

“Sweetcheeks, you are so silly that you think that you have some say in this.” 

Long fingers rubbed along the line of your jaw and forced you to look him in the eye. That proclamation was rather sudden. Where did all this come from? He was being far more touchy and inappropriate than usual. 

“I fear that we are not on the same page, your Highness.”

“Thought so. As smart as you are, you can be very willfully blind”, he mused, now tracing the outline of your lips. His hands smelled like roses and bergamot. Damn imbecile and his perfumed gloves. 

“Your dear lady will be wed to me in a month's time. She will be my queen and you’ll be my mistress. All proper protocols will be followed. Her children will inherit the throne while I’ll be able to enjoy you to my heart's content”, he explained with a smile, one that grew wider and wider the more prominent the dread in your expression became. 

“That's why I'm so happy today. That is why your bitch of a mistress has been even more unbearable. That she knows that I’ve taken an interest in you and that you’ll warm my bed most nights. But what she doesn’t know won’t hurt her.”

[shmowder]

Here's a small request for anytime. I revisited your cute nicknames post because it always makes me happy. What pet names do you think Yulia, Aglaya, and Katerina would use?

🐿️ anon

Yulia Lyuricheva

Be it her rationality or overthinking to blame, Yulia rarely if ever uses petnames. Skeptic of their nature and sincerity, that they do more harm than good in the long run in any relationship.

What is even a petname if not demeaning by nature? Are you her pet, or are you human? Names tell stories, and you'd forsake yours for an adjective so vague and broad that it could apply to a billion different people?

She understands the purpose they serve, a ritualistic act, a reminder of faithfulness, a not-so-subtle reassuriance that your partner is not upset with you.

But Yulia is nothing if not a hypocrite, and life loves nothing more than making her go against her own ideals time after time.

"Honey." Is a one she starts to pick up after you gave her a side-eye one too many times when crossing path with a lovey-dovey couple showering each other with the most suffocatingly sweet petnames possible.

It sounds out of place within her automatonlike speech, sprinkled at the end of a sentence much like a cigarette smoke in a closed room with nowhere else to go.

-

Aglaya Lilich

The classic petnames are timeless in her opinion.

"Sweetheart" is a one she uses in canon, viewing you as the sugary equivalent to her bitter soul. the tenderness to her steel walls.

"Beloved." Is a term she'd never shy away from using around others to make the intimate nature of your relationship very clear. She is upfront with her emotions, direct with her affection.

"My little sun." Is a one you'll scarcely hear despite it being her favourite. It's the term she refers to you with in both her journals and mind.

While not religious, she still heavily dislikes the term angel or any of its petname equivalents; she knows who she works for, they're rotten to the core. All angels are harbingers of doom and blight, another facade much like the kids playing god.

-

Katerina Saburova

You get a glimpse of the loving woman she used to be through her choice of endearment terms... before this town twisted her into the broken husk of doll she has become.

"My dear," whispered quietly as she held you through the night, clinging to your arm in fear that the wind might steal you away if she spoke too loud.

"My love," light on her tongue, heavy in the air, she repeats it."My sweet love."

The sweet way "darling" slides off her tongue, full of yearning a if she's missing you before you're even gone.

"My heart" burning with the intensity of a thousand suns yet as quiet as a mouse, spoken like she's entrusting you with a grave secret.

It's not the petname she uses which matter, but the way Katerina grants each word the same reverence reserved for a prayer.

[natty-taffy]

the handmaiden - [natasha x reader]

Interactive fanfiction

series masterlist

Summary: Sometimes, change is more for better than for worse Previously, on your path: Chapter I.II.I

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ CHAPTER I.II.I.I

[The next morning]

“You’re late”

She mumbles tiredly, watching you prepare the hot chocolate.

You grin as you watch Natty smiling at you, remembering how, not much more than a day ago, she had uttered the very same words, but in oh-so-many different ways. You would say it feels like you have lived through years in twenty-four hours, but you kind of did, so you hum- as tired as you felt yesterday, but now livelier, giddy, in ways you didn’t even know that could exist.

Natasha has this effect on you, you’ve figured out.

“Twenty-two minutes” She tries to remain stern, but her smile drips into every syllable.

“I happened to have overslept, Natty” You answer her, grabbing a second mug from the cabinet, and preparing two hot chocolates at the same time “You know, the past really doesn’t like to stay hidden- but when it finally comes up, it trauma-dumps into you real hard”

“Did you have any more nightmares, darling?” Nat’s entire demeanor changes as you speak, her playfulness now instantly replaced by worry- and, not for the first time, you wonder if she was always good at masking her emotions or if you were actually too blind in fear of her to notice the signs that might have always been right here. 

But, again, you could’ve never imagined any of it, so you cut yourself some slack.

“Not really, more like nonstop memories” You finish both of the hot cocoas with a small swirl of Tony’s beloved whipped cream- trusting Nat wouldn’t rat on you now-, and hand her a mug. “I think they will come back to me as time goes on- I saw you a lot, you know? I remembered Madame Katerina, too, from the kitchen! And, oh, Nat, the castle!”

She accepts the mug with yet another one of those gazes, the one in which she still doesn’t believe to be living this reality- you don’t tell her you can see her quietly pinching her arm from second to second. Your heart swoons for this woman, and, with each passing second, you realize it to be one of your old habits emerging.

“This is a dream coming true, dove, I’m beyond happy for you” Anatasia’s voice is as light and loopy as she feels “And how did you like the castle? What else did you see?”

You smile at her giddy antics and, before realizing it, caress her cheek- carefully, holding her angelic face softly with the palm of your hand, she is the prettiest source of light you have ever come across. She stops sipping her beverage and tenses over your hold- carefully searching for your gaze.

“Did you see yourself doing that to me, too?” Her voice is not tense, it still holds its dreamy hold, but carries a small drop of urgency behind it.

You let your hand still against her, as she hasn’t pulled away from you, and answer honestly “Not really, I just… felt like it, I guess”

Natasha trembles lightly- you feel it more than you can see it, she holds your gaze with the simple spark of her watery smile “You used to hold me all the time, just like this” Her hand cups yours, applying more pressure on her cheek- she closes her eyes, allowing herself to finally relax against you. 

The tears that adorn her face are cold and made of crystal, you have no wonder that, dare you taste it, it would taste like sugar- it’s not the kind of tear that comes from a bad place. You can’t help but notice how mesmerizing Natasha looks and wonder if, maybe, the Super Serum has something to do with how ethereal she always manages to look.

It’s her voice, as always, that brings you back to reality “You better not get tired of seeing me cry”

You could have burst out laughing at the mere idea of getting tired of anything related to her, how could she not see it? You have waited your whole life to see her.

A third voice makes both of you jump at the sudden burst of your moment “Morning” 

Tony Stark trots into the kitchen wearing his head as high as his ego, and eyeing, with mild curiosity, Natasha’s head resting on your hand. You try not to overthink how her posture has gone rigid against you under his gaze- neither of you were expecting to display the change of your dynamic in such little time, you don’t even know exactly what to do with it, yet.

"What am I seeing here, now?"

And poor Tony was just a passerby suddenly caught in a hurricane.

Since Natasha, uncharacteristically, has remained silent, you decide to step in before he starts getting nosy- as he does- and things start to actually get personal in ways you’re both not ready to share.

You pretend to brush dust out of Natty’s face and quickly focus back to the hot cocoas you were doing before getting distracted by the woman “I’m sorry, Tony, I know I shouldn’t have used your whipped cream”

You wear your best puppy face as you hope he redirects his attention elsewhere- as predicted, he does, and his face all but falls as he registers what you have just told him.

“What are you- my whipped cream?” He eyes you in disbelief, shaking the sleep out of his morning body “[Y/N], the one thing I told you not to use-” Tony cuts himself mid-sentence, grabbing possessively the can “We will discuss your attitudes later”

Natasha, now more relaxed as he falls back into his usual antics, allows herself to slightly approach her body to yours again, but dares not to touch it. She fishes her book- until then, long forgotten on her lap, and resumes her reading from yesterday- as she usually did, every morning, until finished your beverages.

You take the sight of her in with a twinkle in your eyes, trying your best not to openly make heart eyes at the woman you publicly antagonized- until yesterday. You risk a look to Tony, who remains way too quiet for being the one who caught you red-handed- almost literally- and, much to the surprise of both you and Nat, who is very much so focused on his own breakfast, and on the can of whipped cream he is holding for dear life.

Deciding to use his unusual behavior for your benefit, you, once again, albeit timidly, reach for Natasha’s cheeks- it’s a soft caress, nothing much longer than five seconds, you won’t risk that much- all you want to do is just touch her and see her blindingly beautiful smile as she feels your caring nuzzles. 

You have come to the realization that it’s not easy to be around the woman without the feeling of her intoxicating you at every given moment.

“Good morning, good morning!” Wanda is the next to arrive at the kitchen, beaming a sleepy smile- first at you, then one that grows bigger at the sight of the closeness between you and Natasha. 

“Good morning, Wands” You excitedly greet her, having almost forgotten to gush to her about everything that has happened, since you haven’t had much time to digest the events yourself.

“Morning, Wanda!” Natasha answers, and the three of you- Wanda, Stark and yourself- make a double take as her voice, usually grounded and under a few armors, today sounds lighter and brighter than any firefly.

With a subtle eyebrow arch, your best friend fights a small smile on her lips and starts to make her own breakfast, but not without making sure to let you know she has noticed the very clear shift in the spirits of the pair of you today.

Oh, you have a lot to tell me, [Y/N/N]

You don’t jump in surprise by the gentle intrusion of Wanda’s voice in your mind anymore, but it never fails to take you slightly off of your feet. You smile impossibly bright against your mug, if there is someone who will hear of you and Nat, it will definitely be her.

You have absolutely no idea, Wands

“Good morning, team” Steve’s energetic voice arrives not much later than Wanda did. 

You can’t help but feel a little closer to him, now, as you’ve learned you’re also - somewhat- of a Super Soldier. It’s something quite irrational, maybe even out of a childish wish, but it feels like you finally know things- real, concrete things- about yourself, you can finally create a true bond with the team.

But, despite your excitement, it’s not you who says a very happy “Morning, Steve!” 

Natasha- beautiful, smiling, glowing, Natasha- looks up from her book once more and welcomes him with a warm smile, two very rare occasions to happen, especially when around you. He doesn’t let it show how much he’s surprised, but a small wink to the redhead is thrown before he follows suit, after Tony and Wanda, to make his breakfast.

Since Natasha can’t help anymore but finally give in to her incessant needs- to touch you and hold you on her own- and, also, because five people in the kitchen create just too much of a cacophony, she closes her book and raises her voice slightly louder, so she can- in an almost nonchalantly way- be heard by all.

“Wanna head to the balcony?” Her neutral tone would have been perfect had it not been badly betrayed by her hopeful, glistening, green eyes- always been seen by you as very cat-like, Natasha, now looks like a very happy puppy.

You nod as you put both of your empty mugs in the sink- dodging Wanda and Steve while doing so “Sure, wanna help me finish some reports later?”

“You’re lucky you’re you” Her grumble is not as annoyed as it used to be, and she almost rushes to stand up. Per the means of her newfound- adorable- actions, you’re sure the team is bound to at least deduce something in no less than a week.

“Oh, if I do know” You smile at her, trying to pry away the blushing of your cheeks before you look like you’ve gotten sunburned- as much as you now understand Natasha a little better, you are very much so not used to being the object of her affections- in fact, you're not very much used to being the object of her anything.

As the two of you head to the balcony, almost tripping on each other’s loving gazes, Wanda turns around to the boys, smiling widely as the Cheshire cat.

“Finally” Steve smiles, finishing his scrambled eggs- he can’t help it, he has always been a tad too romantic-leaning- even a little bit too hopeful, as he has been told, but what can one do when it comes to happy endings- or beginnings- of their loved ones?

Tony hums, scooping an ice cream ball next to his waffle “Took them long enough”

The two men start to open their wallets, given that Wanda has won the bet made by Clint- you and Natasha have taken your heads out of your asses three days before the limit day she had chosen. If she might have had something to do with that, by luring you into talking to her and thus start chasing Natasha- that doesn’t need to be disclosed with them. At the end of the day, you and Nat are finally truly and completely happy- and that’s all she could have wanted for two of the people she loves the most in the entire world.

She shakes her hand dismissively at the money, holding her own tea mug “Keep it, let’s just enjoy our first peaceful breakfast in months”

Tony huffs, backing her up “Amen to that”

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

END OF PATH

that's a wrap on this path, lovelies! i hope you've enjoyed this little ride and how it was finished, i love how they thought no one would notice lol thank you so, so much for sticking with me until here! i hope to see you exploring some other paths <3

[nastassyafilippovna]

Choose violence ask 1, 8, and 12

1. the character everyone gets wrong

Oops I said this in the last ask but Anatole. And I’ll also say Katerina ivanovna crime and punishment I’ve never seen her be Gotten in the way I get her.

8. common fandom opinion that everyone is wrong about

Hmmmm another one. Okay I say things contrary to this just for Sillies but I don’t think hélène fucked dolokhov. I think she pulled a Gilda 1946 and just made people Think she was fucking dolokhov to mess with Pierre. And it worked.

12. the unpopular character that you actually like and why more people should like them

So fucking many. How come no one talks about my beloved Anna m? She has schemes she is manipulative she is going to shoot herself in the head right here if Boris doesn’t get a Fucking job. Also hmmmm. Katerina khokhlakova tbk she’s so quirky and strange and ok she’s not the best mom but she’s ANNOYING and I love that for her!!!!

[niphuial]

Elias yipped again, tiny tail wagging. Smiling, Katerina moved forward, gently petting the puppy. Standing in front of Elijah, she showed him Elias. "May I present Elias Forbes-Mikaelson, to his Alpha and Uncle Elijah Mikaelson?" She stated, holding the small golden puppy up to Elijah. "This is his 5th transformation, and 1st early transformation. He's the youngest wolf in the Moonlight Pack, and is of the Alpha bloodline. He also is an aspiring warlock. The pack and I were thinking of having him selected for the Healer role should he keep his magic once he goes through the ritual." She looks at Niklaus and Caroline, eyes warm. "However, now his parents are here, they can help decide his role alongside us."

The pup yipped again, tail wagging wildly as he jumped up and began licking Elijah's face, eyes a mix of amber and blue. Katerina laughed, tears of joy filling her eyes.

_____

Lucian blinks, before nodding. "How do you think I was turned, lyubov? Elijah and I went after the Priest--turned out he was actually a warlock pretending to be a catholic, which what the hell--and that was a mess, and then I got hurt, Elijah gave me his blood, and then my dad flicks his writs and snaps my neck. All very anticlimactic." He looks thoughtful. "It'd make a very good song, come to think of it. Especially the bit about Katerina's beloved horse killing 40 of the coven witches before dying himself."

this would be fun to watch

[wintergreenwriter]

Prompt: The Bitterness of Lost Love or 5 Times Kat spoke to Wilona + 1 time she didn't

1

The tang of blood filled her mouth as she bit her lip so hard it split. The cut stung even more as she lifted the steaming cup of bitter coffee to her lips, letting the too-hot liquid burn the inside of her mouth as it mixed with the blood. She would give anything to feel those sensations right now, but it felt impossible. She stared ahead, seeing brown eyes and green hair in her memories, that calming presence sitting across from her in this very room, her excited words echoing in her mind.

“Wilona.” Her name breaks her from her reverie.

“Do you need more coffee?” The words come through in that strong so familiar accent, spilling from green lips that almost matched those she kissed each day, but just slightly off. 

Wrong.

“I’m fine,” she responds quietly.

A lie in many ways.

Her coffee cup sat nearly as empty as her soul in that moment. The bitterness seeped into her bones as she felt a tug on her sleeve. 

“Auntie Wilona, where’s Auntie Kat?” came the small voice to her right. She felt her neck turn slow;y to look at the small green flop of hair. She barely felt herself move as her knees collapsed onto the floor and she crushed the small girl into a hug, sobs wracking her body uncontrollably, and finally she could feel again.

And it was awful.

2

She had been feeling for too long now. It was nice to be numb again. The white snow around her slowly melted and stained itself red with her warm blood as it seeped out of the gash in her side. 

“Come on Wilona, you have to get up,” she heard her voice call. Beckoning her back to years ago when she found her half dead on the ground, much like this. 

She blearily opened her eyes to see green hair curtained over her as someone leaned down above her. 

“Kat?” she rasped.

“Oh, sweetheart. You’re not joining her yet. Come here.” Her mother soothed as she pulled her up from the snow, the pain searing into her again.

3

The pain split through her lip again as she felt a fist impact with her face. There was no warm coffee to soothe her this time, no hugs from family. She quickly regained her footing and punched her assailant back, watching as a tooth clattered to the floor. She had barely a moment to bask in her victory before guards grabbed her by the arms and tossed her back into her cell. As she was tossed onto the floor she heard that voice ask her,

“How did you end up here?”

She turned to see warm brown eyes staring her down and for a moment imagined the green skin surrounding them, before she quickly snapped back to reality and met the brown eyes of her cellmate. 

“I’m here because I deserve to be,” she spat out, blood accompanying her words. 

4

“Why are you here?” came the question at the entrance to the graveyard. 

“For family or friends, or just to walk?” 

She paused, the words caught in her throat. 

“My wife is buried here,” she finally choked out. 

“Oh I see,” came the sympathetic voice, “is this your first Festival, dear?”

“...it is. I’m not from here. We just happened to be in town when… when she… so she’s buried here.”

“You don;t have to participate, you know. You could leave her to rest if that feels easier. Our traditions aren’t for everyone.” 

“ No. No, I want to see her.”

“Very well.”

And she trudged on, making her way to the stone casket marked:

Katerina Baranov

Beloved sister, daughter, and partner.

She spent the day telling her stories of their lives. Even laughing at the memories of silly things they had gotten up to together. She could almost hear her tinkling cackle of a laugh joining her. 

The next day she held her hand as she paraded down the main square. Families lovingly spoke to their lost loved ones as they slowly moved through the place they had known in life. The bitterness swept into the back of her throat as she remembered how little time her wife had spent here, and the many other places she would never see again. But she swallowed it and walked on, imagining the hand in hers was squeezing back just as hard. 

5

Wilona gripped the handle of her dagger in her hand, the blunt edge denting her palm in its intensity. Just a few more seconds. Just a moment more and the guards would pass and she could sneak in. “What are you doing, my love?” she could almost hear echoing in her ear. 

“This is dangerous, you’re going to get hurt.” 

She squeezed her eyes shut, blocking out the voice. It wasn’t real. She was gone. 

Finally her moment came, and she jumped into action. Carefully stepping over arcane traps she made her way to the center of the room and grabbed the green crystal. As she held it in her hand she couldn’t help but imagine the same shade of skin clutched between her fingers, determined to never let go.

+1

They were an easy mark. Traveling in these woods was dangerous after the wizard was no longer around to keep an eye on things. She made sure of this around this time of year. Her grief wouldn’t stop her from doing what she did best. Though, Kat’s voice in the back of her head disagreed and…

And that strong accent filtered through the trees. As her archers got into position and the rest of the bandits crept forward Wilona heard that voice not in the back of her head, but in front of her. 

Her bandits revealed themselves, ready for a fight as the group steadied themselves and reached for their weapons. A wooden bow was pulled out expertly as deft green fingers knocked an arrow. Those warm brown eyes flicked from person to person and crossed over her like she was the ghost and not the woman standing in front of her.

She reached up to pull the mask from her face and stepped forward. 

“Kat?” 

[rededgecitycouncil]

Hello residents! It’s us, your favorite gossipers and we’re here to bring you some long awaited news! So enjoy and remember, it's up to you to know if this week's bulletin is true or false.

Brittany Miller – Boutique Owner or Backroom Deal Maker? Brittany Miller’s Wave’s End boutique is the go-to for luxury, but sources say she’s been hosting exclusive “shopping nights” for select clients after hours. Is she just selling couture, or curating her own secret society? @brittanyxmillerx

Mila-Jae Monroe – Sweet Bakery Owner with a Spicy Side? Mila-Jae Monroe’s Falcon Haven bakery is famous for its pastries, but rumor has it she’s been spotted whispering with a mysterious customer in the corner booth. Could this baker be cooking up something other than cupcakes? @milajmonroe

Jax King – Personal Trainer or Personal Confidant? Jax King’s training sessions are intense, but word around Hope Island is he’s been giving more “personalized” advice to a few of his high-profile clients. Is Jax just helping people hit the gym, or is he making connections for a bigger lift? @kingxjax

Katerina Lopez – Detective or Pirate’s Cove’s Secret Sleuth? Detective Katerina Lopez is known for cracking cases, but she’s been spotted digging into unofficial business around town lately. Is she investigating off the record, or does she know something that the rest of us don’t? @katerinaxlopez

Emmett Hills – Hockey Coach or Hope Island’s Next Big Star? Junior hockey coach Emmett Hills seems dedicated to the kids, but some say he’s been eyeing a much bigger game behind the scenes. Is this small-town coach preparing for his big league debut? @emmettxhills

Calliope Adams – Dance Instructor or Drama Magnet? Pirate’s Cove’s Calliope Adams is beloved for her dance classes, but lately, she’s been dropping cryptic hints about “behind-the-scenes” conflicts. Is she just sharing stories, or is she ready to reveal a dramatic twist? @itsmecalliope

[survivingpierce]

            "yes, i do!" katherine replied immediately, even adding: "you can't tell me you didn't know that klaus wanted to break his curse for the past five hundred years before i was even born. you can't tell me you weren't involved in the creation and spread of the so-called 'sun-and-moon curse' that was just a decoy to get your hands on a doppelgänger. you can't tell me that you weren't trying to find a way to help your most beloved brother. gosh, it was even you who introduced me to klaus at his freaking birthday party. do you know how sick it is to gift someone a living human being? and don't say that i had been anything else than a fucking birthday gift for your brother!" the coincidences were just too big. that someone like her, who was new to this country and was downright insignificant, was invited to their castle. and not only that, they even introduced her directly to the lords, from which one then decided that she would make a (supposedly) good bride. 

            there was a sentence in elijah's not-convincing explanation that did confuse her. what did @dcmoniism mean by 'see what happened previously'? it made katherine hesitate for a moment before she decided that it wasn't important. "oh come on, elijah. do you really believe that i would have been presented with a choice?! from the moment i met you two, my fate was sealed. nothing klaus did was meant. his courtship meant nothing. you even encouraged me to ignore my doubts. you could have told me that it's okay to have doubts and that it's okay to break off the 'engagement'. you could have told me more than reassure me that other unions were built on less and that i shouldn't see it as a problem. you didn't warn me, not even when klaus returned with torn and bloody clothes from an alleged fight at a pub. i have never been safe or loved. it was just a lie. one giant lie!"

            she didn't believe elijah. she didn't believe that he didn't know what klaus had been up to. not after the passage of time showed just how dedicated he was to klaus. he'd do anything for his brother. even back in 1492, he would have done anything for him. "do not place the blame on me!" she growled because it hadn't been her fault. elijah had shown no sign that he would help her. he was the one who introduced her to klaus, he was the one who encouraged her to agree to the 'marriage', he did nothing to destroy the ploy. 

            "what are you speaking of?", his accusations angered her. "i have never put my hand on any dagger. there is this myth that any vampire who daggers an original dies. i'm not as stupid as to try it!" did he perhaps confuse her with elena? wow, what an insult. yes, she had told damon that daggering an original is an option he should consider because that way, she could break free from the compulsion. but she never touched a dagger herself. "and yes, i did have an encounter with an invisible ghost in the cellar. and mind you, he attacked me. and it was damon who graciously saved me and set this person on fire." which again wasn't her fault. 

            her eyes narrowed, followed by a slight shake of her head. "a matter of opinion. if what you said had been true, then i would have never been forced to kill myself. or to mourn the death of my entire family. you didn't help me with anything. and isn't that what you even state loudly? that katerina is gone? katerina died back then because there was no one who helped her. no one who made her feel safe. i'm here because of my own achievements. because of trevor and the unintended support of rose. it doesn't have anything to do with you!"

“ do you truthfully believe that i was aware niklaus had such intention? ” elijah and niklaus had come across a petrova doppelganger before katherine : tatia. the woman that began all of it, life as they currently knew was only possible because of her and her blood, and his mother was to blame for such. they had never asked to live forever, and someone else's decision change the course of their life. the thought of said petrova doppelganger had elijah's jaw clenching for a split second — the red door.

“ you don't know what you're speaking of. ” her perspective on the matter. katherine knew no other side. it had never been provided, and it had never been relevant — until now. “ i chose to stand aside and watch as my brother courted the woman i wanted, spoke to me of marriage. i was there to see what happened previously, and i was most certainly there to see how it ended and i didn't want that for you. i did everything i could to prevent a situation where you would have to choose and blood had to be shed. ” and yet, it worked out that way regardless of his attempt.

“ you were safe and loved. ” so loved. “ i had no idea of niklaus' idea of using you for the ritual, because i had not heard of a ritual. by the time i found out why he was so taken by you, it was too late. he already had a hold of you, your interest. ” per katherine's words, klaus was a charming man, hard for anyone to resist. “ i knew i had to protect you, i was willing to protect you, but you made your move. angered niklaus who forced my hand to help him search for you. ” niklaus had always been stronger, that was no secret. strong and reckless. “ i walked those woods, covering your every track to make sure he did not reach you. not trevor, not some other man. me. ”

his family may have hurt her, elijah would not deny such but including him in such roll was low. “ you wish to speak of such? very well. you assisted the salvatore brothers in daggering me, did you not? when my warlocks came to find me, it was you they encountered. it was you who tried to stop them. it was you who forced it right back in. ” and that had been a hard pill to swallow then. “ i did not encourage your relationship whatsoever. you spoke of his carelessness towards you and i simply stated such a fact. you seemed more than keen to be with niklaus, what was i to say? was i to beg for your love and attention? you know me better than that, katerina, i am not one of your salvatore brothers. ”

it was obvious that they hadn't been around each other in a long time for katherine to claim those things with such certainty. it took elijah a long time to understand that always and forever didn't equal sacrifice, nor did it equal niklaus being at the center of their promise. it went four ways, equal ways. “ if there is something i am certain of, it's my role in ensuring your safety and feelings towards you. you are still standing here today. had i not been with niklaus in those woods, you would have most definitely met death that day — and they were real. ” they are real. “ — unfortunately, i cannot say the same for you. ” or her feelings towards him.

[sabraeal]

To My Esteemed Enemy

[Read on AO3]

My third holiday gift this year, and this time it’s for a different fandom, and a new-to-me pairing! Kazasen originally tied with Alan/Katerina (Hamefura) for second place, and then tied for first with Jiro/Nanami (Kamisama Kiss) in the run off. It was a close race for concept with this one, but eventually the epistolary fic won out...and then I had to resign myself to this being a VERY long fic with shorter chapters 🤣

To the Esteemed Elders of Kazama, with All the Blessings That Humble Yase Can Convey--

It is with both heart both heavy and steeled that brush is committed to paper, so that those of the clan Kazama who act with great wisdom may be warned of the misconduct of the demon who calls himself their head and speaks with the authority of their ancestors. In the pursuit of taking an uninterested and unwilling female demon in Yase’s domain, Kazama Chikage has violated demonkind’s greatest taboo: he has meddled in man’s affairs.

While in service to Satsuma, Kazama Chikage committed acts both violent and base, engaging with human men in combat for reasons personal and pertaining to his unwanted attention toward the female demon. Were this only a single instance, Yase would be willing to turn its gaze aside, but his attempts have grown so numerous and vicious that they risk drawing attention to the places our shadows fill in this world.

Kazama is a noble and storied clan, one of the original blood, and Yase is prepared to be lenient in this matter. So long as the demon known as Chikage is kept within the confines of the village and commits no more infractions upon the code, Yase will not bring the council’s attention onto his actions. However, should these terms be violated, know that his offenses are terrible and numerous, enough that disbandment might not only be considered, but surely recommended.

As a show of good faith, Yase asks that Kazama report on the behavior and location of the demon known as Chikage, and--

“Is this why I’m here?” The page shrinks as he speaks, the collar of his too-big tunic nearly swallowing him whole. “To listen to the whimpers of lesser clans?”

“Yase is not simply putting their hands on their swords, Chikage-sama.” Masanori spits out the honorific like the shell from a seed, an unpleasant dressing necessary to reach the meat of the matter. “If you do not cease your meddling, they will see us disbanded, scattered to the four winds just as they did to-- to--”

Hatsushimo. Five hundred years and these cowards still can’t speak the name.

Humor peels his lips from his teeth, but there’s smile behind them. “They can try. Kazama will not be so easy a carcass to pick clean.”

The elders shift on their fattened cushions, old bones speaking just as much as their glances. “Although the strength of Kazama is undeniable, truth makes for more pleasant music than threats.”

When Kazusane speaks, it is measured, more like poetry than conversation. His most beloved tutor in boyhood, and his most dreaded one in adolescence. Now, he’s only a bore. “The alliance will favor the words of Yase, for they are known for their honesty and their shrewdness.”

“And you are only known for your crudeness and impulsivity,” Masanori adds, his wrinkled face knitted as if one of his esteemed colleagues passed foul wind in the hall. All Chikage smells is old man and death.

“And Kazama is known for tolerating no insult. For paying back what is owed.” He snorts, leaning a cheek on his fist. “I don’t remember any of you complaining when the elders of other clans would bow before you. When even warriors would tremble as long as you trailed in my wake.”

“And now they will laugh.” Sadahira’s age weighs heavily on him, making his words slow, ponderous. He’d been old when Chikage’s father had been a boy, and now every wind threatens to scatter him to dust. “How else could they act when they hear that Kazama’s proud prince has been brought low, traipsing after some...female demon?”

His teeth creak as he grins, wishing he could wear them all to points. “Isn’t that what you have all been asking me to do? Find some acceptable wife and beget my heir upon her?”

“There are any number of suitable candidates you have already turned away, rude enough that we are lucky their fathers and brothers do not knock down our doors.” Masanori wears his jealousy the same way a his anger: poorly. Red splotches bloom unevenly up his neck, leaving the man as piebald as the mongrels that roamed the outskirts of the village. “And now you find some whore with water for blood, and we are supposed to--”

“The girl is the last of the Yukimura.” Rage might make some men sloppy, but for Chikage it is the furnace that hones him to a thin edge, that burns away the impurities that make other men brittle. “You may sit pretty, dressed up in your silks and picked clean of fleas, but her blood runs so pure it makes the rest of you look like the filthy curs you are. If you think I’ll let a mate of the original bloodlines slip through my fingers just because Yasehime--”

“That is not what we wish to speak of.” Amagiri’s edge might be blunted with his politeness, but they cut through his words with ease. He bows over his knees, a ridiculous pose for a man as big as him. “Forgive us, elders, but we did not come to talk to you about Yukimura Chizuru.”

As a boy, he dreaded Kazusane’s disapproval. Even the faintest frown would send him back to study, hoping to earn his praise, but now-- now he wishes he could care less, his stomach still twisting as the man’s bushy brows draw tight over his nose.

“Amagiri-dono, you do this child a service by speaking for him. However, he has been called here to answer for the blade his actions have hung above us. The one he risks dropping even now.” Kazusane’s eyes are not the pure crimson of a true Kazama, but they burn as they press upon him, his anger hardly banked. “For what other reason would Chikage-sama dare leave this village, save to seek out this girl?”

“The fakes.” Even now the word hisses from his lips, leaving a foul taste behind. And yet, there is no reaction from the elders.

Sadahira turns his trembling head toward where Amagiri sits, the picture of obedience. “What does he mean?”

“The rasetsu,” he explains with a calm Chikage could never summon for such abominations. “While allied with the bafuku, Yukimura Kodo engaged in experimentation with demon blood, creating from their ranks creatures that defy the natural order. Not men, and not demon, craving the life that their bodies lack.”

“They are an insult to demonkind,” Chikage snaps. “They cannot be suffered to live.”

A murmur of distaste washes through the room, but still, Sadahira shakes his head. “It is unfortunate that mortal men have devised of such unnatural creatures, but it is hardly our business what they choose to do with these...rasetsu.”

A short-sighted answer, typical of a man who would not live to see its consequence. “It was a demon who made these, even his blood was watered down to barely more than piss.”

“And it would be the duty of his clan to see to it that the danger was handled,” Sadahira informs him, unbothered. “There is no reason for Kazama to overextend itself to see to Yukimura’s problems.”

Chikage stares, uncomprehending. “There is no more Yukimura.”

Masanori smiles wide, like a wolf about to feast. “I thought you said this girl of yours was the last?”

At that, even Amagiri stirs. “But she’s just one girl!”

“Then she should hope that these men she has thrown in with can measure up to half a demon.” Masanori’s mouth curves, the way it always did when he thought a lesson would land the way it ought. “Do not concern yourself with man’s problems. Stay in the village, write this Yase-hime her letters, and pray that she forgets your transgressions.”

“But these fakes will--”

“Our ancestors did not stop men from forging swords just because they could cut themselves on them.” Sadahira speaks with steel in his words, and no little fear. “Let them learn the way children learn best, and worry more about what you can do to keep your people safe.”

“Tch.” Yasehime’s even characters stretch across the paper, as pedantic as the girl herself. Kazama crumples it in his palm, tossing it to the floor along with his kimono. “Cowards. To think they would tell me to grovel at the feet of Yase. As if I were some piss-blood demon, not one of the most storied lines in all of--”

“You would do well to take counsel from the elders.” Amagiri stoops to scoop up the fabric, straightening it out with a sigh. “It is their duty to think of what would be best interest for the clan, not just--”

“They are thinking like flies on a dead pig’s backside.” His juban slips from his shoulders, crumpling in a silken pile behind him. “Their tiny minds cannot comprehend more than this moment’s feast, not whether the whole hog is rotting away beneath us.”

The man’s breath is as stiff as his spine when he bends, grunting from the strain of not bowing and scraping for those old relics. “That may be so. But they are not wrong. We no longer answer to just them, but Sen-hime--”

A hiss catches between his teeth. “I grow weary of Yase-hime and her threats. Is she the one who led Kazama in the years since my father died? No. And we have prospered. Meanwhile Yase still lives on their knees, beholden to an emperor who is barely old enough to shave himself.”

Amagiri may make his faces, but when Chikage holds out his hand, he does not wait long for the clothes to fill them. These Western fabrics are not so fine as his own, scratching his hands as he pulls them over his head, but it is what is necessary now to walk among Kyoto’s streets, to hear what these people will say.

“Yase is not a clan of warriors,” Amagiri grunts, finally. “Their power does not come from numbers, or blades, but from secrets. And if you are not careful, Sen-hime will use those secrets to take your own out from beneath you.”

He scoffs, skinning these strange Western hakama up his legs. “I do not fear weak words, and certainly not from a female.”

The big man silences him with a shake of his head. “You do not know what it is to lose your people and leave the home of your ancestors, living on the kindness-- and sufferance-- of others.” That dark gaze pins him as thoroughly as his grip. “Amagiri lost only its land, and even now we carry that pain with us. I cannot imagine it would be any less than agony to be separated as a people too, forced to scatter with the wind.”

Chikage tears away with a grimace. That gaze is too much sorrow to bear, even borrowed.

“Tch,” he clucks, hastily buttoning up these strange clothes. “That is too much power for one woman. To think you said she might make a suitable companion.”

Amagiri holds out his coat. “That opinion has not changed.”

Chikage whips his head over his shoulder. “Even after all this? She’s threatened to disband Kazama over a trifle.”

He doesn’t deserve the weary look he receives. “That she wields so much power only proves that she is your equal. Her bloodline is unchanged--”

“And so is her personality.” He smooths his hands over the coat, if only to keep from gathering them to fists. “Women who know their own mind are tiresome. We would not suit.”

Amagiri is silent for a long while, long enough that it seems this topic of conversation might be over. An illusion Chikage is allowed to believe until his hands busy themselves with tying his blade to his hip. “More unfitting matches have been made in my time.”

Chikage’s mouth thins. “We have other work to be doing. Something much more pleasurable than being harangued by that harpy. Let’s go.”

The big man stiffens. “The elders said--”

“The elders advised me to beg Yase’s forgiveness.” He grins, sliding open the shogi. “And I will do it gladly once we have culled these fakes from Kodo’s ranks.”

[rere-the-writer]

hey!! If it’s not too much to ask, could I request a kol x reader where the reader is a witch and a doppelgänger? Like somehow the reader and Elena are both doppelgängers, but after Klaus broke the curse the reader was able to live a fairly normal life in New Orleans, that is until Esther comes back. Maybe because of Klaus’ presence in Nola the reader has allied with Marcel for protection, resulting in her befriending Davina and encountering the newly resurrected kol? Kol attacks her when he sees her because he thinks she’s Elena, but when she overpowers him with her magic he realizes she’s not Elena. They eventually become friends and start to develop feelings for each other maybe? I hope that isn’t too specific. I really just would like something a little angsty and fluffy with witch! Kol. I really admire your work. It’s very uplifting and comforting, especially, your kol content. He’s my comfort character but I’ve exhausted the supply of fluffy kol fics 😅 Thanks! Make sure to take care of yourself, love ❤️

I'm glad you like my Kol. Time for some fluff for my baby boy.

Warnings- Fluff, Kol be simpin', A bit of angsty

You had been living in New Orleans for a year now to be away from Katherine and Elena as you were a different doppelganger and still carried the Petrova family name. You were a powerful witch and didn't care that Elena was like your long distance cousin because of the bloodline you shared.

Once you had heard Klaus was spotted in Mystic Falls, much to Elena's disappointment you got the hell out of dodge not wanting to be used by the Original as you knew your family's history with the Mikaelsons. Marcel had took you under his wing much like Davina as you help teach the younger witch to control her magic.

You were angry that your life had been fucked over because of Katherine but after Klaus broke his curse you were able to life a normal life in New Orleans that was until a pregnant wolf and Esther coming back.

"The Originals are in town be careful." Marcel told you knowing if Klaus knew of another doppelganger you would be in danger. But Elijah knew about you as he came to you about Davina and you managed to tell him she wasn't a threat.

"So your family has history with the Mikaelsons?"

"You could say that De."

You could feel Esther's magic as it was heavy in the air even more after Davina told you she brought back Kol. It happened in a blur you were held against a wall by your thoat.

"You killed me litt...." Kol was cut off holding his head as you looked down at Kol with a glare as your hand was in a fist.

"I am not Elena, vampire." You growled as Kol felt like his head was on fire as the pain was unbearable. Kol could see that you may have the same face as Elena, your hair was cut short and curled as you got tired of people mistaken you for Elena or Katherine.

"I see....that....now....you're a powerful....witch." Kol panted as you let him go and Kol couldn't help but stare at you. You were attractive and Kol cursed to hisself now seeing what his brother's saw in the Petrova women.

"And you are annoying Kol Mikaelson."

"Forgive me but I don't know your name."

"And you won't." You say walking away leaving Kol laying there as he got up before deciding to ask Elijah.

"You ran into Y/N Petrova?" Elijah questioned his younger brother putting down his book catching Klaus's attention. Kol had got to Elijah to see if he knew anything and was glad.

"Yes so she is a doppelganger?"

"Yes, it surprised Niklaus when Katherine threw her under the bus. Y/N is the last pure blood Petrova witch." Elijah says as Klaus smirking sitting down remembering when he found you on the third day of him being New Orleans. Unlike Katherine and Elena, you didn't fear Klaus as proven when you made his heart stop when he tried taking you from Marcel.

"She is a little feisty witch. Rebekah likes her better than Katherine and Elena which is saying something."

"Oh?" Kol said standing smirking as Elijah and Klaus knew that smirk this crazy boy was going to try to date you.

"Be care Kol. If Marcellus doesn't kill you then she will."

When you got a call from Klaus saying he needed a powerful witch to weaken the hybrids under mother's control you thought he would talk to Davina.

'I need a Petrova witch love.' Was what Klaus told you and you walked into the compound annoyed when Kol smirked following you up stairs.

"Any plans this weekend?"

"Non of your business." You said annoyed hoping that Kol would have lost interest in you by now but the wildest Mikaelson just fell harder with every name calling and magic sent his way.

"Maybe I could take you out."

"No." You told him glaring but it didn't stop Kol from trying to ask you out or buying you flowers and gifts.

"De! I AM IN LOVE WITH AN IDIOT!" You shouted one morning scaring Davina when you came into your shared apartment. You founded yourself falling for Kol which to you was an idiot and didn't know why. You spent the day ranting to Davina that you couldn't love Kol because he was a Mikaelson and you were a Petrova.

"Hello darling."

"What do you want idiot?" You asked working on a spell to help Elijah when Kol had came over and stepped up behind you. You looked up at Kol and your breathing hitched seeing how close he was and your eyes flickered to his lips.

"I was....hoping that...you would finally. " Kol muttered leaning in as your cheeks flushed moving in also and his lips were on yours. The kiss was explosive as sparks flew and you moan against his mouth kissing back.

"Does this mean you like me and we can see one another?" Kol asked sounding unsure his cheeks tinted red as you smiled softly for the first time since he met you.

"Yeah, you goof." You whispered as Kol brighen kissing you again and let out a whine when you pulled away.

"I need to finish this spell." You tell him letting the vampire cling to you watching you work.

It didn't take Marcel and the other Mikaelsons to notice that Kol and you were seeing one another a lot more. You had managed to mellow Kol out as he now turned all of his focus on you. But one thing you and he agreed on was not tell anyone that he proposed eight months into your relationship as you both didn't know how Klaus would react.

"Cute place."

"What do you want Katherine? I thought you didn't want to be anywhere near Nik?" You questioned walking in to your apartment seeing Katherine sitting in a chair drinking your good wine.

"You cut your hair."

"What do you want?" You asked glaring as your magic was stirring up as Katherine huffed before spotting the engagement ring on your hand.

"You're engaged?"

"Yes now Katherine what do you want?!"

"Fine....I need help and you are the only powerful witch I know. Elena had turned off her humanity and I know you have a spell to get her to turn it on."

"Since when did you care about Elena?" You questioned pulling out your grimoire as Katherine watched you huffing sipping her wine.

"The brothers are boring and all angsty over it. It is annoying but I hear you and Kol are a thing."

"That is non of your business." You tell her getting to work then dropped a small bottle in her hand.

"Have Elena drink that it'll compel her to turn it back on." You tell Katherine as she smirked thanking you before leaving and while she was at it sent a text to Klaus that you were engaged to Kol.

Klaus was angry when he learned of you and Kol ever more angry when learning that Kol was going move out of the city with you after your marriage. In Klaus's eyes you were taking what was his while both Rebekah and Elijah was happy for Kol.

"Go warn her. I'll hold Niklaus back." Elijah told Kol hearing Klaus growled throwing things. Kol was quick to head to your place which smiled brightly seeing him walking in.

"So what kind of cake....Kol are you okay?" You asked seeing how terrified your future husband looked. Kol cupped your face tearing up as if to commit your face to memory.

"Nik knows and is coming for you....you need to run and hopefully he'll calm down and we can marry."

"Kol.....I....don't want....to live...like Katherine had.....please don't." You whimpered as he kissed you gently and helped you pack. That night after using magic to hide your tracks, Kol went to blows with Klaus while Katherine suffered at the hand of Elijah when he learned the vampire was the one to ruin Kol's slice of happiness.

"Come on Elijah, the little witch could use so....." Katherine was cut off when Elijah slammed her against a wall hand warped around her thoat.

"If Y/N dies in the hands of Niklaus, I will not be merciful Katerina."

Four years you were on the run visiting Kol's favorite places which made you feel closer to the Original while learning new magic's getting stronger. You sat in your London flat watching the snow falling gently while unconsciously playing with your engagement ring while thinking about Kol.

"Darling can you let me in?" You heard Kol ask making you rush to the door tearing it open letting him. You jumped up into his arms kissing him deeply pulling a deep moan from Kol.

"You're here! Oh my god I missed you. Never again idiot." You said inbetween kisses as Kol smiled looking up at you with adoration.

"I missed you too darling. You did a better job at hiding than Katherine."

"Wait.! But Klaus?"

"It took three years but Elijah and Rebekah calmed him then I spent a year looking for you." Kol said kissing you again as he took you to your bed relearning one another's body.

"You kept it."

"Yeah....ask me again." You tell him taking the ring off as Kol slipped out of your bed getting on one knee.

"Please marry me? You gorgeous, beautiful woman that I would be honored to be her husband."

"Yes....a thousands times yes." You said tears falling as Kol smiled putting the ring back on your hand. Kol rushed up kissing you again as you both fell back into the bed.

"I love you, my beloved."

"I love you too, Kol." You whispered back as you both finally got to be happy.

[shmowder]

Hi!! Love your blog, look forward to seeing your posts!! Every time they show up even if I’m not personally interested in the character/topic it’s about And since you seem to have a very good grasp on lore and the characters! I have a question about how something I’ve been thinking about would work/could it work? So how would the towns dynamic change if there was a fourth mistress? That only seems to really pop up during the events of the game? Since the playing field of the town is always getting shaken up so what better way to shake things up then have a fourth mistress who only reveals themself at the final moment? Maybe this persons family hid them/ their abilities away from the rest of the town for their protection? And now that the town is in disarray there’s no way to hid any longer? Or Meta reasons they only get added in because the kids got a new doll they wanted to add into a preexisting story?. I’m curious on how you personally think something like that would work/if it could work as a concept!? Since you seem to have a really good understanding on those kinda things! so I trust your judgment sorry if this is annoying I promise I’m not trying to be!!

also here’s a flower since your writing and memes are rlly cool 🪻

There are Mistresses with a capital M, and then there are mistress candidates.

In the town–not the Kin/steppe–there are only two Mistresses, light and dark, Nin and Victoria. Katerina is a false Mistress, she never counted to begin with.

However, there are currently three mistress candidates ingame and zero actual Mistresses. We never see one come into her full power, it simply ends too soon.

Maria, Capella, and Katerina. All three of them are only candidates. A Mistress's power extends much more beyond mere clairvoyance, sure they have "magical" abilities, but they haven't earned the title yet. Much like Artemy needed to earn the Menkhu title and not just be good at surgery.

The Light and Dark Mistresses are both new additions to the town. Their dichotomy belongs to the Capital, they're not native to the place.

Now for Kin "Mistresses" the definition is a little...vague.

They only have one, it's the Earth Mistress.

Let's make one thing clear, the Mistresses's powers are not part of them, it does not belong to them, they simply borrow it. Weaving magic through the air.

Much like one would wield a sword, it takes a tremendous amount of training and strife. And when you die, the sword doesn't wither alongside your body, instead it remains next to your corpse, waiting for another to come along.

Anyone can pick it up and wield it. That's how the powers are "passed" between generations. These swords do not actually belong to certain families despite what they may claim. The roles are more fluid than anyone thinks.

Katerina became a mistress candidate for dark after the passing of Nina as a way to keep balance, but by the time she started getting kinda of decent at wielding her sword, Victoria passed away and Katerina threw her weapon and powers out the window, rushing to the light and to take Victoria's place.

A light Mistress's role is more favourable, your visions leave you joyous, and you're well beloved amongst the people.

But by doing that, Katerina reset all of her progress, and she was back to learning how to wield this new magic from square one. Losing both tracks in the process since Maria and Capella's abilities far surpass hers by that point despite the early start advantage she was granted.

So...her eyes turned to another role, the Earth.

But she's not from the Kin. She can never hear the twyre whispers or trace the lines.

That's where the Rat Prophet comes in.

Remember how Mistress powers are only borrowed? Their visions are hazy, and prophecies are vague?

Well, the Rat Prophet IS the sword himself in this scenario. Those are his powers, always was, always will be. Part of the earth yes but an independent part, like one of your limbs suddenly gaining sentience and doing their own thing.

In the P1 Haruspex route, you can get a prophetic vision from him. Not about you, but about The Changeling, who starts doubting her powers and begs you to go ask the Prophet because he simply refuses to talk to her.

You ask him–or pretend to fool him and he immediately realises what you're doing–then answers directly. No beating around the bush, no weird euphemism, not a single room for doubt

The Changeling will lose her powers if she realises she has them, simple as that. Everything she says becomes reality. Every lie will twist into truth, and the second she becomes aware of it, all of her powers will vanish.

To the Haruspex it sounds like gibberish, but to you? The player who knows better? Oh, he hits the nail on the head. Because that's the thing, he never was talking to Artemy! He was talking to you. In every interaction, he is always addressing you the player.

That's the true "magic" everyone is so obsessed over, breaking the fourth wall, realising this is a game. That's why Clara powers surpass her age and time, because she is already past one layer of meta narrative, she knows this is a game which grants her better access to magic...She just thinks it's a kids' game, a sandcastle built by two kids and nothing more.

She hasn't been past the second meta narrative layer. She isn't even aware of its existence.

That's why the Mistresses can only weave it. They're just blindly grasping at the games code. No wonder they come out of it very confused.

It's a whole alternative reality to them. They don't have computers, and they don't know what Java Script is! You ask Maria to write you a simple Python IF function, and she'd tell you why the hell would she use a snake like a pen to write with?

The only way they can explain this ability, make sense of these binary codes, is clairvoyance.

Why their prophecies are so distorted and nonsensical, why they can only speak in riddles.

Why the Rat Prophet who casually breaks the 4th wall all the time has the luxury of being direct, crystal clear snippets of the future at the tips of his fingers...rat fingers?

The Rat Prophet is the one who comes to Katerina and lends her crumbs of his powers, just enough to get her to believe him when he starts calling himself the voice of the earth.

For what end? I don't know. His intentions for tricking her are never revealed. But he succeeds, and she fully buys into it, making her a false Mistress. She's not much of an earth mistress when the weapon she's supposed to wield has auto aim on, huh? Katerina is basically playing Pathologic Mistress Simulator with trainer cheats activated.

But, he doesn't give her the right prophecies, deliberately aiming on the wrong targets.

So there are only two actual self-made Mistresses so far.

-

In the P1 termites ending, Capella mentions how the Mistresses will be reinvented.

In the town, there are three power houses, right? Olgimskay, Kains and Saburovs. Each pulling from different directions.

Well, there is a fourth hidden cog, there always has been based on Capella's theory–the Kin. Not the employees under her father's command, but the real actual Kin indigenous to the town before settlements came here from the outside.

So the death of one Mistress doesn't start a domino effect of catastrophes like last time.

Capella wants to keep the balance of things, restart the cycle and maintain the status quo. The system wasn't broken and doesn't need changing, she claims, people just implanted wrong.

This time around, she will make it even more balanced. Leave fails safes everywhere by spreading out the power even more so there is less room for error and greed.

That's what Isidor saw in her and the termites, the potential to rebuild the town and ensure its survival. Her goals also coincidentally align with the Artemy's whole approach of maintaining traditions and not forsaking the past for a shiny future...at least if you play him as faithful to his role as a Menkhu.

She describes it as a "blend of many colors"

The new Mistresses are:

Grace The Beige Mistress (whatever the fuck that means)

Taya Malachite Mistress (who picked these names??)

Murky Lilac Mistress (Capella get a colourblindness test ffs)

And her. Capella. Still the Light Mistress.

She also claims to be able to see their "aura" and she picked their new roles and powers to suit the colours of their soul–on a side note, the same "aura" is also mentioned when Maria is being put down for never being able to amount to what Nina was because her soul is scarlet, transparent, not black, never an abyssal darkness like her mother.

You might ask, now who will become the next Dark Mistresses? Probably Maria still.

So what...Five total Mistresses in the termites ending?

Yeah! If not more, Clara is on her way to becoming the Earth Mistress right? Katerina needs to die first tho so the Rat Prophet stops using her as a puppet to larp as a Mistress with.

Capella basically said fuck it, everyone gets magic now. Kains and Olgimskays are united so the political tension is gone from the town. Everyone is special so no one is special so this town and its people can finally get a single fucking moment of peace at last.

The roles are shuffled, everyone has a new, more suitable title.

And Capella still needs a colourblindness test still bc Murky's scarf is NAVY BLUE, it's not LILAC.

WHERE ARE MY LORE DUMPS THAT CHARACTERS THREW AT ME OUT OF NOWHERE HUH ICE PICK LODGE? WHY IS P2 SO AFRAID OF GIVING A CHARACTER MORE THAN TWO PARAGRAPHS OF LINES IN EACH CONVERSATION? WHY DOES ARTEMY REPLY IN SHORT SENTENCES AND SINGLE WORDS? DID YOU LOBOTOMISE THE WHOLE CAST?

That's it, that's the whole P1 Mistresses in a nutshell summary :) I am NOT getting into P2 Mistress lore idgaf. It's not finished cooking yet.

They changed so much–things are somehow even more vague? It's like P2 is allergic to giving straight direct answers. Everything is suggested and hinted at rather than clearly stated.

Anyway.

For your questions.

So how would the towns dynamic change if there was a fourth mistress?

Which town? No really, which version of the town are we talking about her? Pre-plague town? Okay, do you mean the first wave or the second wave? Or post-plague town? Then which ending are we going with?

Honestly, it would change as much as it changed when Clara got introduced. That's basically your best point of reference to what adding a fourth mistress candidate would cause. Take Clara, double it and give it to the 4th.

But keep in mind that the 4th will be a mistress candidate not a Mistress. Especially if she was birthed normally as a human and had to grow up–then her progress would match Maria and Capella who still haven't came into the Mistress title.

Clara is a special case, an outlier, and the spider George of Mistresses, so we are not counting her.

"To receive her full powers and become a Mistress, a future Mistress has to go through a painful process, accompanied by seizures and fainting, and then finally wake up. After that, she will not be the same person. A future Mistress must recognize the next Mistress, passing on continuity. It is not clear whether the role of Mistress is a tradition, or a necessary stage of mystical transformation. "

As long as the 4th is still herself, she has her personality and traits still, and then she hasn't become a Mistress yet. Remember how Capella started changing at the game end in P2? It's the best example there is of what would happen to her, what awaits Maria in the future as well.

Also she needs to be acknowledged by the other Mistress candidates, even if they hate each other they will still acknowledge her if they glimpse actual powers in her.

what better way to shake things up then have a fourth mistress who only reveals themself at the final moment?

Everyone can wield the sword, but not everyone can see the sword on the ground in the first place, which is why most people don't pick it up; they don't realise it's even there. Everyone CAN become a Mistress, but most women won't.

-

That's a very mild shaking, more like stirring a cup of coffee. It's too late for her to do anything meaningful or affect any outcome. The Mistresses do not decide the game endings, the healers do. (Except anomaly mcguffin Clara again bc fuck me ig)

Block and Lilich do not believe in the Mistresses or respect them much, and it's them you need to convince to spare the town. Clara could brainwash people unless the 4th can do that too then...yeah, no.

Even then, she needed the same 13 days of preparations beforehand and a tremendous amount of human sacrifice. Most reactions to a new Mistress revealed from thin air at the last day would be like

Maybe this persons family hid them/ their abilities away from the rest of the town for their protection?

"oh cool. So like where were you while people were dying?"

-

Mistresses are mothers. That's basically it. They "mother" the town and its people, they have the heavy presence of a parent you have no choice but to abide to. You want to please them, you feel the need to obey them much like a kid clings to the skirt of their mother.

That's counterproductive. It's Mistresses who protect people, not the other way around. Their abilities are celebrated—even Nina the Evil was adored and respected despite her wrongdoings. No one dared lay a singer finger on her, not just out of fear but out of genuine reverence.

And she has, in fact, killed people.

And if she was hidden, it means she never got properly acknowledged by the other mistress candidates. So she never officially became a candidate herself and hasn't earned the title yet, only managing to hold very little power and influence.

Best case scenario, Capella integrates her into the termites/her vision of the new town. She wanted Clara to join her cause yk, but Clare refused.

... but maybe the ones who hid her did it out of fear they might lose her? Once she ascends to power, she will lose herself, feelings, and everything she once held dear. A complete factory reset of her brain. Sure, she still has her memories, but they feel like a stranger's more than hers.

That's one reason to prevent someone from pursuing their Mistress potential.

-

Or Meta reasons they only get added in because the kids got a new doll they wanted to add into a preexisting story?

That's clever! She needs to be a hated toy like the rest for them to throw her in there. It will need to be both, tho. The kids AND the hiding thing lore working in unison.

-

I’m curious on how you personally think something like that would work/if it could work as a concept!?

It's very feasible and could definitely work! But without time, preparation, and coming out of hiding years in advance if she is human, then she won't make much of a difference to the main story except be an interesting sideplot.

Think of it this way, All the herb brides hold the potential to be Earth Mistresses. That's how little it requires to be a mistress candidate. You are somehow connected to any string of magic in any form? Congratulations! You can enroll in the Mistress Academy starting today!

But it doesn't mean you will pass, or be accepted by the current best Mistress candidates.

You also need to want to do it, as in actively train and seek it out. If you ignore it, the power growth stunts.

-

Since you seem to have a really good understanding on those kinda things! so I trust your judgment sorry if this is annoying I promise I’m not trying to be!!

I...don't think I have that good of an understanding. I don't think I even qualify to answer this. I haven't played the Changeling route yet, nor finished the Bachelor. I just reread the wiki a lot and scoure whatever info I can find on the sub reddit.

Specifically "info" cited screenshots and texts, I don't trust opinions and theories because Pathologic is very abstract and vague, P2 even more so than P1. Two people could easily misinterpret the same concept, then the most popular version gets spread around and everyone thinks its canon.

Like Isidor adopting Rubin when it never happened, yes they planned it but he died before it could happen.

Or Daniil being short? He is pretty tall and strong, he survived a fist fight with Artemy.

Or MY BIGGEST PET PEEVE EVER, PEOPLE WHO ASSUME THE GAINT PAINTING HANGED AT THE ENTRANCE OF VICTOR'S OFFICE IN P2 IS HIS WIFE NINA.

NO! it's Maria's. Yes, she has short hair. It's her board game portrait. That's his daughter, you pricks! stop writing lewd stuff about it and the scene where he has a breakdown in front of it—it was supposed to be a bittersweet thing for him to sit on the ground in front of his daughter's painting, now you just made it about his wife and sexual stuff.

It's a reference to the many paintings of her he had in his P1 office.

My point is. I can get things wrong too, there are huge gaps of information in my brain, I am also very biased towards certian theories.

Treat this whole essay as a suggestion, a reference sheet rather than a guideline. A lot of things are left vague and up to personal interpretation, which I like a lot!

I know a lot of people have issues with Pathologic open-ended plots and optional multie choices that can be contradictions, making it harder to have a set-in-stone canon about the characters.

But I like it :) It is a meta game, after all, right? It makes sense for the player to get the power to alter this version of reality slightly. And the worlds have already changed in each playthrough! it is on purpose, a canon in game because it breaks the 4th wall. So, mulite universes and versions of events can co-exist at the same time.

Capella was right about there being a fourth hidden cog, Daniil, Artemy, and Clara are the obvious clear three.

But she was wrong about it being the Kin, because it actually is you.

The Player.

The Bachelor, The Haruspex, The Changeling, and The Player.

You've always been the hidden fourth power, the extra healer who persistently tries to cure the plague in three different universes.

That's why I love the opening cinematic in the theatre so much! The three of them are on the stage, under the spotlights and in plain view.

While you, the only other person in the room besides them, are hidden up in the corridor. Veiled by the darkness, silent and voiceless, making your way to the same exit they are.

You always belonged to the same group as them. You just were and will always be hidden out of sight and mind. Only spoken with through 4th wall breaks, even then, the characters aren't allowed to acknowledge it or remember it afterwards. You're immediately ereased from the memory of anyone you converse with after the last word is said.

-

I didn't get a chance to thank you for your sweet words, so thank you! <3 I'm glad you enjoyed my writing. I had fun delving into this, used it as an excuse to avoid my responsibilities - today has been... horrible.

I assure you, you're not annoying or anything. I'm very happy with these types of questions! I like writing x reader as much as I enjoy talking about the game, discussing and analysing the plot! I love dissecting things under a microscope, and if I do get something wrong, I try to go back and fix it.

Also a reminder, this whole post only applies to the canon of P1. It won't add up in P2 lore, neither do i plan analysing much of a game that's still not finished. Without the Bachelor and Changeling routes, we can't say much about the plot.

Thank you for the flower, that was like really endearing and cute—here's a flower back 🌺 I really like hibiscus.

[rockislandadultreads]

New in Cookbooks: Deliciously Diverse Cooking

Cooking at Home: Or, How I Learned to Stop Worrying About Recipes (And Love My Microwave) by David Chang, Priya Krishna

The chef of Momofuku cooks at home . . . and that means breaking the rules that chefs, magazines, and everyone else tell you about, so you can get a great dinner done fast.

Being a chef can make you the worst kind of home cook. Either you’re too fussy when dinner just needs to be on the table or, as Momofuku chef Dave Chang will tell you about his early years in the industry, you just . . . never cook at home.

But now, with a family to feed, Dave faces the same challenges as any home cook: how to make something as delicious as possible, in the least amount of time possible, with as little mess as possible. It’s no time for meticulous searing or searching for the perfect medium rare.

This is his guide to the culinary dark arts of substituting, adapting, shortcutting, and sandbagging, like par-cooking chicken in the microwave before showing you seven ways to blast it with flavor in a four-minute stir-fry or a ten-minute stew, because he is as tired as you are of doing things the hard way.

Colombiana: A Rediscovery of Recipes and Rituals from the Soul of Colombia by Mariana Velásquez

A recipe developer and food stylist—whose work has taken her across the globe to work with clients like Michelle Obama and into the test kitchens of today’s most esteemed culinary publications—pays homage to her native country with this vibrant, visually stunning cooking, the first dedicated solely to Colombian food, featuring 100 recipes that meld the contemporary and the traditional. To Mariana Velásquez, a native of Bogotá, the diverse mix of heritages, cultures, and regions that comprise Colombian food can be summed up in one simple concept: More is more. No matter what rung of society, Colombians feed their guests well, and leave them feeling nourished in body and soul. In Colombiana, the award-winning recipe developer and food stylist draws on the rich culinary traditions of her native land and puts her own modern twist on dishes beloved by generations of Colombians. Here are recipes for classics such as arepas and empanadas, as well as “Colombian-ish” recipes like Lomito de Cerdo al Tamarindo y Menta (Tamarind Pork Tenderloin with Mint), Gazpacho de Papaya y Camarón Tostado (Spicy Papaya and Charred Shrimp Gazpacho), and Cuchuco de Trigo con Pollito y Limón (Lemony Bulgur Farmer’s Chicken Soup). In addition to offering a unique perspective on Colombian food, Mariana shares the vibrant style of Colombian tablescapes and entertaining. For her, the best meals are never simply about the food on the table—they are an alchemy of atmosphere, drinks, and simple snacks and sweets that complete the experience and make it memorable. Rich with culture and stories as well as one-of-a-kind recipes and stunning photography, Colombiana is a gastronomic excursion that reminds us of the power of food to keep tradition alive.

The Simcha Restaurant Cookbook: Over 100 Israeli and Middle Eastern Inspired Recipes by Avi Shemtov

In Hebrew, simcha means “joy and celebration” and Chef Avi Shemtov’s food has been filling diners with these delicious emotions for several years at Simcha, located in Sharon, Massachusetts. Now, with the Simcha Restaurant Cookbook, you can recreate the delectable dishes that honor the traditions of Shemtov’s Turkish-Israeli roots, with contemporary flavor-forward twists: Yemenite fried chicken with labne and smoked potato purée, whole-roasted cauliflower with soom tahini, and ras el hanout pork belly with pickled apple sauce, shakshuka, and octopus salad with green zhug, the traditional Yemenite hot sauce. Brimming with original vibrant photography, Simcha Restaurant Cookbook is an enticing culinary global journey.

Macedonia: The Cookbook: Recipes and Stories from the Balkans by Katerina Nitsou, Oliver FitzGerald (Photographs)

Discover the flavors and traditions of North Macedonia Macedonian cuisine is a rich mosaic of influences from the Mediterranean and Middle East, and the neighboring countries in the Balkan Peninsula. It is known for its opulent family meals, and the regional dishes play important symbolic roles in local traditions and family celebrations. Macedonia: The Cookbook is a love letter to Macedonian culture, and a cuisine deeply rooted in its land and traditions. Through over 100 mouthwatering recipes for mezze dishes, salads, soups, fish, poultry, meat, vegetables, and delicious sweets and preserves, chef and food writer Katerina Nitsou shares the authentic flavors and wisdom brought along with her family, recreated and adapted in her North American kitchen. With beautiful photography of the food, people, and landscapes of North Macedonia, this cookbook captures the country’s essence and belongs on the kitchen shelf of every food lover.

[zodiyack]

Opposites Attract (1,000+ Follower Special!!)

Pairing: Damon Salvatore x Female!Pierce/Petrova!Reader

Warnings: Possibly swearing?, fluff, indications of smut??, death/mentions of death, slight angst/violence, I think that’s all

Words: 1,667

Summary: The younger sister of Katherine was the true owner of Damon’s heart, Katherine only being his worry in 1864 due to the sister’s bond, the bond that fueled Katherine to force Y/n to join her when she escaped Mystic Falls and left Damon to think they were both in the tomb.

Note: I have no idea what to say honestly... I’ve been gone due to troubles with my computer yet you guys stuck around and that’s what matters to me. Though I may have a bit of a hard time with words, I hope you guys know that you all mean so much to me 💕💕

And if you’d like me to make a part two, which I’m already planning on doing- I just really liked the ending, or make this a series, feel free to let me know!

Taglist: @matth1w​, @redspaceace​, @fandom-puff​, @darling-i-read-it​

Masterlist | The Vampire Diaries Masterlist

Part I. Part II. Part III. Part IV. Part V. Part VI.

1864

Her back hit the wall, lips molded with his as their tongues clashed in a hungry passion. Her fingers played with his hair and pulled his face and body closer to hers. With his hands trapping her against the wall, she felt content.

“Turn me.”

“I can’t, Da-”

“Don’t. I understand, Katherine and all that...but promise me that one day, you’ll escape her grasp and run away with me.” She forced herself to look into Damon’s eyes, her undead heart breaking at the sorrow that drowned in his blue orbs. “Please?”

“I can’t make any promises...” she paused involuntarily, her heightened hearing catching a sudden ruckus from Stefan’s room and stealing her attention. Damon frowned, adjusting his grip on her waist to pull her back to reality. “I...I just can’t right now. However,” the smile returned to his lips, “one day, I will find you. And if you still want to...you may take me up on that promise, Salvatore.”

He was ready to answer when his door burst open and he and Y/n pulled away in a panic. His father stared down Y/n with a great furry in his body. She didn’t say a word, simply kissing Damon softly and nodding to Mr. Salvatore.

“Father- please-”

“No. She’s a monster, Damon! Her sister is a monster! They are monsters! Don’t you see that? She’ll kill you if you give her the chance. The same goes for Stefan and the other Pierce girl. If they’re even girls.” He mumbled the last bit of his sentence, too caught up in the belief that they were pure evil to consider any other possibility.

“She’s not a mons-”

“Yes. She is. Now, enough! I’m already ashamed of your siding with the demons, there is no need to make it worse, boy!” Mr. Salvatore grunted and put a muzzle-like-mask over Y/n’s head and called out to the rest of the hunters, watching as she was dragged away with a grimace upon his face.

Whilst Damon was traumatized, angry at his father and the world for their cruel decisions for his life, he attempted at keeping a neutral, unphased expression. “What will happen to her?”

“The same thing that will happen to the other monsters; she’ll burn.”

Present Day

Damon continued pacing throughout the house, ignoring Stefan’s pleas for him to stop. He thought about what Emily had told him, and what he needed to do. He had everything he needed, what was stopping him from going to the tomb? A gut feeling? Life? Was he just a big chicken?

He took a breather, telling himself to think about the reason he was in this mess. It was for a girl. The love of his life, to be specific. Y/n Pierce. The lovely lady who had come to stay with the Salvatore brothers after her and her sister’s parents had burnt with their home.

They felt pity for the girls, taking them in and, from then on, starting their odd journey through the supernatural world. Y/n was the first to reveal her secret; pulling away from a kiss with Damon due to her loss of control over her vampire features.

Though normally he’d be afraid, Damon had gripped her chin and forced her to look at him, awe and interest shining on his face. It was that night that he confessed his love for her, promising to take her away one day.

He chuckled at the memory, wiping his thumb across his lips. Damon remembered the taste of her lips like it was yesterday. The delicate softness paired with the lustful desire of their kisses was perfection. The kisses they had shared held something no one else could give him.

Despite occasionally hooking up with a girl or two, he was still on the search for his long lost lover. Deep down, he knew the sex was just for a distraction; even if he didn’t want to think of it as such, he knew that he was constantly comparing them to Y/n. Sometimes verbally, sometimes mentally, either way- the comments were always about the woman his heart belonged really to.

“Damon. Why are you really here?”

To find Y/n and stay true to my promise. “Just to be with you, little brother! Is it wrong that I want some bonding time with my little bro?”

“For you? Yes.” Stefan made it a point to avoid and ignore Damon as much as possible, especially with a girlfriend to protect from his ‘evil’ also-vampire brother. “Now, I’m going to ask you again. Why are you really here?”

Damon sighed. “You already know that Stefan.”

Now that Damon was closer than ever to opening the tomb, he was more than ready to reveal his true intentions. Stefan believed Damon was after Katherine, pleading him to leave as soon as they got out of the tomb. But in reality, Damon could care less about that vampire. He just wanted Y/n, but with the sisters being closer than anything he’d ever seen, he had no choice but to rescue Katherine as well.

If he was lucky, Katherine would allow Y/n to stray from her and stay with Damon, but he had a feeling that would never happen. Not with how possessive Katherine was. How she insisted that blood, as well as herself, went first.

1864

“We need to go back to them!” Y/n tried to run to her lover’s body. Her heart was racing. She’d come back to find that her beloved had been shot dead, his brother the same. Before Y/n could reach the man, Katherine gripped her waist and held her back, stronger than her younger sister due to being older in human and vampire years.

Y/n was the one Petrova to have escaped Klaus in his act of revenge. To be fair, it wasn’t his fault that he missed her. She was out picking berries, going about her life normally, before returning to a bloodied home with the bodies of the people she loved strewn about messily.

She remembered falling to her knees and cursing at whatever entity seemed to be there. Whether it was God or some other being, she demanded, through sobs, to know what she had done to deserve it.

Then, as if her prayer-like-yells of agony had been answered, Katerina showed up at the doorway. Her reaction was similar to Y/n’s; first, processing what she was seeing, then, feeling the fear freeze her in place, and finally, screaming and trying to shake her family awake, hoping as much as she could that it was all a dream.

Y/n walked from her hiding spot slowly, still shaking from her discovery but much more calmed with the presence of her older sister. “Who would do such a thing?”

She swore she could never forget the rage, paired with terror, in her sister’s eyes. “Klaus. Klaus Mikaelson did this.”

That very day, she turned her sister. She explained that they would live long enough to either kill Klaus and get revenge, or plea for his forgiveness and live their lives once more.

Snapping out of her memory fueled trance, Y/n broke free of her sister’s arms and dropped to the ground beside Damon. She pulled his head onto her lap and brushed his dark curls from his face. She chuckled to herself when she noticed her tears dropping onto his face.

“Goodbye, my love.” Y/n pressed a kiss to his forehead, then one on the tip of his nose. Finally, one on his lips, staying a little longer than the others as she savored the intimacy in their final goodbye. “If I only I had told you yes...”

She left her sister to say her goodbye to Stefan, wiping her tears away as she felt what was left of her heart crumble into bits.

Once, she had a family. And then she had her sister. Then she had her sister and an owner to her heart, the feeling of humanity returning to her undead body, feeling alive for the first time since her transition.

Now? She was back to having only her sister.

Damon felt the same way.

When he had woken, taking time to recover from the shock of being alive. Emily had told him how Katherine compelled Stefan to drink her blood, and he already knew that he drank Y/n’s blood willingly.

“There’s no point in living.” Damon pleaded with his brother after he tried to get him to feed, “They’re dead.”

Present Day

He ran into the tomb, desperate to find the sister of the vampire doppelganger. Damon sighed, ‘speaking of doppelgangers’, Elena had followed him, ignoring Sheila and Bonnie’s warnings.

“What’s that sound?”

“They can smell you.” He made his way through the tomb, eyes traveling from one decayed vampire to the other, cursing to himself each time they weren’t Y/n. Nevertheless, he wouldn’t give up. At some point, he’d gotten separated from Elena, but he didn’t care- never faltering in his search.

After spending more time looking for the vampire with negative results, Stefan had rushed in. He seemed anxious, desperate, ready to plead. And that he was. “Damon. We have to go.”

“She’s not here...” He felt like he was having a panic attack, which was more than likely. Damon threw the blood bag he had brought for her against the wall, “She’s- she’s not here, Stefan!”

“Who? Katherine? Look, I’m sorry that she’s not here, but we need to go!”

“No! Not Katherine! Y/n! She’s- she’s gone...she’s gone Stef.” Stefan furrowed his brows, feeling sympathy for his brother for a split second, then realizing how much time they were wasting.

“I’m sorry... Okay Damon? Maybe she didn’t die-”

“Don’t get my hopes up, alright?”

“Alright, I’m sorry. Really, I am. But- we need to go, like, right now.” He grabbed his brother and sped him out, gaining a boost with his vampire speed. The entire time he thought his brother was after the bad sister, but he was after the good one.

Opposites really do attract.