#talking about *does* go by they/them but are still processing that part of their identity? What if they're nonbinary but choose to go by

[motoroil-recs]

I suppose this counts as a kinfession. I just wanted to state how sometimes it gets really frustrating to see sentients who are kin with a not binary character that uses they/them (see Kris from Deltarune) and them then using he/him. I get that it is their own memories and literally them, but I suppose after a while it feels like some sort of erasure to me? I hope that makes sense, and if anybody could explain more to make me more comfortable with this specific thing, that would be lovely as well. I always want to keep an open mind.

🏎️‼️

[yet-another-heathen]

On the topic of realistic conditioning/deconditioning,

If the trigger is something whumpee wouldn't hear often when they're with caretaker but whumpee still wants to break it because they might hear it elsewhere (like kneel being taken as a command)

Would whumpee ask caretaker to casually trigger them so they have the opportunity to challenge it in their own head and in a safe place? Would this be a good idea for recovery?

And of course being there with the praise everytime whumpee makes just a little bit of progress, or comfort when they don't.

Heads up, anon: your ask was an EXCEPTIONALLY good one, and I ended up writing another mini TED talk (~3-4 min read) in response. Thank you so much for sending it in!

...on Conditioned Whumpees - Part 3

[ Part 1 - Part 2 ]

That is a very, very good idea! You're spot on with all of it, particularly operating in a safe environment where whumpee is ultimately calling the shots. Having that comfort/support readily available will make a huge difference in how well whumpee can tackle the matter. And while the process isn't fun, approaching desensitization with this much intent is much, much more likely to result in success.

I can offer a few pointers that can add another few layers of realism, as well as some other things to think about while tailoring it to your story:

if whumpee is actively working through their conditioning in this way, memories of their trauma will become closer to the surface. As a result, all of their other PTSD symptoms will be elevated during the course of their practice sessions, as well as for at least a few weeks after.

flashbacks are a very common experience during times like this. engaging with triggers like this is going to cause their flashbacks to become more frequent and intense.

during such flashbacks, it is almost a given that whumpee's mind and body will enter a similar state to the one it was in during the time when the flashback was taking place. By that I mean that the fear they felt in that moment, where it was physically located in their body, will echo into their body in the present moment. Same goes for other all other emotions, and sometimes even phantom aches surrounding any injuries they received at the time...

while the emotions tend to be identical to the ones felt during the trauma, in my experience, the pain comes out distorted in a similar way to the way it does in dreams: less intense, and more "blurry" and imprecise in location. When we say that someone having a flashback is "reliving the moment", we mean that their body literally feels as though they're in the same immediate danger that it was in back then.

this is true even though they'll be aware to at least some degree that they're presently with caretaker and safe.

the flashbacks don't always happen immediately after the conditioning trigger is used. Often they flare up hours or days later, sometimes without warning, sometimes as a result of encountering a different flashback trigger. The whumpee's thresholds for what counts as a trigger will drop, which is part of what causes the flashbacks to happen more often. Something they could normally ignore is going to affect them much more while they're like this.

your whumpee is more likely to experience severe mood swings while in this heightened state. Especially feelings like irritability, frustration, anger, loneliness, and grief. This stuff ain't pretty, folks. Even your sweet cinnamon bun is most likely going to lash out at someone as a result.

PTSD episodes are also exhausting. your whumpee is going to feel mentally, physically, and emotionally drained. And, to add insult to injury, being tired amplifies the emotions listed above.

Now all of this said, your whumpee may or may not know that this is to be expected. If they've worked on processing their trauma before this, they'll have figured out that one often leads to the other. They'll go into the deconditioning practice knowing this is coming, and will approach it carefully, but with a fairly level head. Knowing that it'll suck, but they'll come out the other side okay.

If not, they're in for a rather nasty surprise.

For the latter, they will feel at first that the deconditioning practice is making everything worse. They're suddenly struggling the way they did when the trauma was fresher, and it can be tempting to stop and refuse to touch it again because the mental/emotional pain gets so intense.

If they do give up at this stage, it will make trying again far more daunting in the future.

But the trauma being stirred up is actually a sign that it's helping. It means that the whumpee is starting to process what happened to them, which is a fundamental step in being able to heal.

Note: All throughout the process, crying is a very good thing. It lets them physically get rid of a lot of the brain chemicals associated with these surges of emotion. Letting themselves cry over things they couldn't cry about back then can actually help them let go of those feelings in a similar way to if they'd been able to process them in the moment. [Which is the basis for much of EMDR, a specialized tool used in trauma therapy.]

Okay. So now we know what other effects can cascade from the actual deconditioning practice, now we have some things to consider.

First off, what time parameters are whumpee and caretaker working within while deconditioning? There are three basic options:

they sit down together and practice repeatedly using the trigger for [X amount of time; usually <45m at once] back to back. Once that time is up, caretaker will no longer use the trigger at all, the excercise will end, and they'll get up to do something else.

whumpee sets a specific window of time [X number of hours] within which caretaker will use the trigger word at random points. Once that time has elapsed, the exercise is over.

over the course of days, caretaker uses the trigger word at random points without giving warning. the excercise only stops after being ended by whumpee.

Now why is that important? Because of something called hypervigilance. It is another symptom of PTSD which, to put it into the simplest words, is whumpee waiting for the other shoe to drop. It's a heightened state of tension and wariness in which whumpee is expecting that something bad is going to happen, and is constantly searching for any sign to indicate when it's coming.

It is beyond exhausting.

Imagine knowing that someone is about to slap you as hard as they can, and you have to sit there with your eyes closed, waiting for it. The breath-holding, the flinchiness, the rigid tension in your body as you strain to listen for when they're coming.

Only now, stretch that moment out into hours. Days. Weeks. That is hypervigilance.

A hypervigilant whumpee is not going to be able to relax. Or rest. Or decompress. Or readily trust much of anything around them. They're MUCH more likely to flinch at sudden movements/sounds. They might start biting their nails or showing other signs of nervousness and distress.

These methods above have a gradually increasing chance of setting off whumpee's hypervigilance. If they know exactly when the next trigger is coming, as in example 1, then their 'waiting for it' tension will be low. But the more uncertain they become of exactly when it's going to happen, as in examples 2 & 3, the worse the hypervigilance is going to get.

The trade off is that the later examples are more effective in desensitizing them toward the trigger. The more their practice mimics encountering an unexpected trigger in day-to-day life, the easier it will be to fall back on that desensitization when the time comes.

Therefore, it would be a very good idea for a whumpee who's new to this to start with number 1, then gradually progress to 2 & 3 as time goes on. They should be the one to decide when the next step is made, and if/when they need to dial it back.

Other questions to ask yourself while plotting:

how mentally prepared is whumpee for worsening symptoms? what about caretaker? did either of them know it was coming?

how much of this heightened PTSD stress can your whumpee take before it becomes too much? how do they react when they do hit that tipping point?

if caretaker feels that whumpee is getting too distressed during practice even though they're not tapping out, would they call it off themself? Or would they ultimately leave that decision to whumpee?

based on the answer, how would whumpee feel about caretaker's decision? Relieved? Belittled? Betrayed?

does whumpee have any grounding tools they can use while practicing?

how does caretaker handle the mood swings and instability that come with whumpee's heightened PTSD? You should consider both their internal and external reactions on the matter.

how does whumpee prefer to decompress after a practice session? what things would help them calm down and recover?

how long do they need (hours or days) before the next attempt?

Even with all I've just written, there's far more to the resulting hightened state of PTSD than flashbacks and hypervigilance. PTSD symptoms that they're most likely to encounter in the background while doing deconditioning practice include:

Flinchiness, anxiety, panic attacks, nightmares, exhaustion, emotional mood swings, outbursts, crying spells, depression, executive dysfunction, dissociation, numbness, racing thoughts, freeze responses, tremors, inappetence, muscle tension, and heart palpitations.

Yes, usually many of them at once, even those that contradict. Your whumpee is going to have a LOT going on at once, and it is not going to be a fun time. I recommend looking up any of the above symptoms you don't recognize, and looking for whump inspiration in what you learn.

(Because everyone experiences PTSD episodes differently, there's a lot of wiggle room in which ones whumpee will encounter. Don't feel pressured to use all of them, find what you want to write and have fun with it!)

Thanks again for the incredible ask, anon. And again, I want to congratulate you on how spot-on your original ask was. You nailed it. I know this was a lot more than you asked for, but I hope this provides helpful context for your whump! My inbox will always be open if you think of anything more <3

[toast-on-dandelioms]

I have an ask about Spider reader, what if they bonded with a symbiote like Venom ? Exept they bonded to the point its impossible to separate them without killing them both? Venom is still partially separate from reader mostly working and talking with them or taking control when reader cant. Venom knows everthing about them since there i readers head.

Ok that's a great question!

I think at first Spider would be tired of Venom and try everything to get rid of him before getting used to a companion that doesn't have to be kept in the dark about their vigilante job and also their family problems.

They wouldn't tell anyone, but Alfred would obviously find out and just make sure they're ok before making his plan faster of getting the family to notice them.

If we take in consideration the original timeline that I am following at the moment, Superman would probably be the first person you would tell after months of knowing him and trusting him enough.

But when the Batfam will find out? Well I'm gonna make an example for how they would find out. (And also a small spoiler for the next part)

Ok so Spider is 'working' with Superman sometimes since Gotham's streets are relatively safe and they decide to follow Superman to a mission where they thought they were gonna work alone with Superman again and instead find Batman and Damian waiting for you two.

The mission consists of defeating a rising villain that is making weapons for big villains around the world, and while in the evil lair after defeating the villain, Batman almosts get stabbed by a machine set off by Superman.

But Spider decides to help him and saves him, getting stabbed in the process and making Venom heal them slowly and not immediately since they didn't want Batman to ask questions.

But Spider is still bleeding with a grave wound, which sends everyone in a panic.

So Batman sends Superman with you to the Batcave to get healed while Batman and Damian will make sure the villain will get what he deserves for hurting Spider. (Since Batfam is already a bit yandere for Spider but do not know their real identity)

At the Batcave Spider gets treated a bit after managing to give them some sedatives to make them calm down, which makes Venom come out to defend Spider.

And Alfred decides to make the drastic decision to reveal who Spider is, tired of seeing the Batfam treating them horribly while almost idolising and loving Spider which is the same person.

And Venom insults them with telling everything Spider thinks of them, all the pain, injuries and thoughts they had to make the Batfam feel even worse and Superman more of a yandere than he already was.

So the Batfam becomes even more, not sure the right terminology, yandere for Spider and wants to make it right, promising Venom to make it right and wanting to give Spider all the love they couldn't receive the first years in the Manor.

Venom, sadly, gets manipulated by everyone and promises to not say anything to Spider and helping them a bit since Venom also wants the best for Spider.

The story would continue with Spider getting imprisoned in the Manor, with their powers weak thanks to Venom, making them desperate and also weirded out by the sudden attention of everyone.

And after a while, with everyone manipulating them and suffocating them with their love will eventually lead to Stockholm Syndrome.

And that's the end of it! I will probably reblog it if I find anything wrong that I didn't notice! Thanks for the ask!

For the divider you can go to @saradika-graphics, she does this and takes requests!

[localcatmutt]

OTHERHEARTED

What does it mean to be otherhearted?

Otherhearted is a term primarily used in the therian/otherkin community that means “to identify WITH a non-human animal/creature/being.” You may have a deeply rooted connection/relation to it, and experience shifts or traits similar to the species, BUT not identify AS it. For example, I experience many bear traits and shifts, I feel a deep connection to these animals and identify WITH them, rather than identifying AS them. The “as” or “with” are very important to distinguish a theriotype/kintype from an otherhearted “identity”.

Another common term that holds the same meaning is kithtype. The etymology of the word “kith” originally means familiarity (not family), or something/someone you are connected/close to. Then the word “type” refers to what kind of identity it is (which is kith in this case). 

To simplify the difference between kintypes and kithtypes; kin (to identify as/to be) and kith (to identify with/to be like).

Importance of Otherhearted

In the community people tend to showcase their theriotypes over kithtypes. They are held at a higher standard, and they are viewed as more important when it comes to our identity as a whole. But that couldn't be further from the truth. In fact, being a therian and being otherhearted can share most of the same experiences. You can indeed have shifts from kithtypes, mental and phantom. Being otherhearted can impact your life just as much, and you can wear all the same gear as a therian. Both are a part of your identity. Kithtypes can be just as prominent as kintypes.

The questioning process can be all the same as well. 

Belonging in the Community

People who are otherhearted are just as valid as therians, and belong in our community all the same. We all identify as, with or simply connect to animals in different ways than people who aren't in our community. Our animal hearts, minds and souls are what connects us. Not the labels. Therians, otherkin, otherhearted, coping identities/coping links… they all belong.

As I have said before, these all share similar or same experiences. Any of us can wear gear, do quads, make posts, educate or share our identities. The sole differences are the origin of these identities, and whether you identify as or with the animal/creature/being (or if it's a voluntary identity like in the case of coping links, which I will eventually address in a separate post). 

Confusing the two

It’s easy to feel lost when we’re trying to figure out what we are, and where an identity stands. Is it a theriotype? Is it a kithtype? Is it a cameo? It can be quite the confusing process. Although I think that if people knew how important being otherhearted is, they might find it easier to understand if they're kith or kin. I mean, in the end the major difference is just… are you LIKE the animal? Or ARE you the animal? Shifts don't immediately mean theriotype, so I think that's where most of the confusion lies.

Quick definition of cameo for those who don’t know of them : Cameos are simply shifts that can suddenly come and go, that arent from a known kintype. They may make a brief appearance in your life. Think of the actual word “cameo” that is used for actors who make sudden appearances in movies, and may bring an element of surprise to viewers. 

I am otherhearted

I have six primary kithtypes. Each has different levels of relevance/importance to me, but are still very important to who I am as a whole. These kithtypes are; Canines (coyotes and jackals especially), Kermode Bears/Black Bears, Ravens, Snakes, Giant River Otters and Arthropods as a whole. It's a lot, but over the years, deeply rooted connections to these animals have planted themselves into my identity. I have shifts, behaviours and traits just like them!

Sometimes I even feel confused because of how prominent they can become. 

Well, that’s all for now! I thought it would be important to talk about otherhearted identities for a change. Its not shared enough and I think that spreading more information could help people figure out experiences more easily.

Hope you enjoyed!

Last note - If I made spelling errors or definition errors let me know. Everything is based on research, and what I've been learning throughout the years I've been in the community. I have been active here for more than 7 years, and have been on many different platforms including Instagram, Amino, Tumblr, Discord groups and a few Forums. So I don't only explore newer information, but also older ones. 

[chronicbeans]

Queerplatonic Alastor x Reader Headcanons

Hehe my plan of writing headcanons for various Aroace-spec identity Alastor headcanons has begun. This one is with a cupioromantic and asexual Alastor in mind. I haven't seen enough of them, and as they say! "If you want it done right, you gotta do it yourself."

TW: Frustrations regarding romantic identity, complete unawareness of certain LGBTQ+ topics (my man's from the 1920's, he's almost completely in the dark), slight yandere behavior? (I feel he's just obsessive by default, regardless of the relationship type)

• So, this man has never necessarily identified himself with any sort of LGBTQ+ labels. Back in his day, there weren't any terms to use for being asexual or aromantic. At least, not any that he knew of. He's always been comfortable with his sexuality, though! His main thought process was always "I'll probably find someone that I'm attracted to at some point, and if I don't, that's alright." That thought process has also followed him down to Hell, and stayed the same for all these years.

• However... Whilst he's very comfortable with his sexuality... His romantic feelings are very complicated, now. He's always desired to have one, and he's very confused as to why he hasn't felt any romantic attraction, yet. It makes sense that someone who wants a romantic relationship to be able to feel romantic attraction, yes? He's very much in the dark to the complexities of how these things really work, mostly due to him being from the 1920s-30s. He's caught up on slang and technology, but he hasn't bothered to keep up with sexualities and romantic identities, as he doesn't think about them much.

• So, does he ask any more modern demons and sinners for help? Ha! No. He's too prideful, and simply assumes that there probably isn't much of a difference in knowledge on romantic attraction as compared to his day. Yes, he's aware that there's way more identities for sexualities. People talk about them often, and he hears terms thrown around here and there as he walks through Hell. He never hears anything in regards to romance, though. It's simply not talked about as often, from his experience. So, he's completely in the dark. If anything, he's probably completely unaware that there are identities for romantic attraction.

• He does what he can to cope. This whole situation is very frustrating for him. However, at the same time, he thinks that it shouldn't be so frustrating. So, it's embarrassing to him, and he doesn't tell anyone about it. Instead, he does what he believes everyone who is single and ready to mingle does: reading romance novels. More specifically, he flips to parts where said attraction is described, or little scenarios that he wants is going on. Restaurant dates, walking through the park, dancing, holding hands and cuddling. Those sorts of things! Things nobody would ever expect someone as unhinged as him would want...

• The most frustrating part, however, is that he feels he should already be feeling such an attraction to you. You, being his most close friend. You're the one he trusts with certain secrets, one of the few people he doesn't mind touching him unprompted (besides, say, Niffty), and probably the only person he lets his smile down around. Though, he rarely does so, as he doesn't want to worry you. Unlike Niffty, who he sees as having a more familial feeling towards, he sees you as a close friend. His closest friend, but just a close friend, which frustrates him to no end.

• It takes him a long time to even think of mentioning it to someone. However, when he does, he'd feel too awkward to bring it up to you. So, he decides to speak to Charlie about it! After all, she has one of the more "modern" relationships. So, she probably also knows something about whatever is going on with him! And after the long and grueling process of talking to her? He comes out even more frustrated than before. Being unable to feel romantic attraction, but still want romance? Cupioromantic? It is all so confusing. However, he won't question it. He's clearly out of his zone, and he was horribly wrong when assuming the world of romance hadn't progressed...

• You, however, are his most trusted friend. His closest friend. So, he decides to waste no time in deciding to propose an idea to you. He's heard of these things called "queerplatonic relationships", and his understanding is that they are like friendships, but with some more traditionally romantic interactions involved. Which, whilst his understanding of the nature of queerplatonic relationships may be a bit off, he's trying his best. Once you explain it a bit further, emphasizing that they're closer relationships than friendships, but not romantic and can vary widely in affectionate interactions, he is immediately is set on trying to start one with you. Luckily, though, you agree rather quickly.

• Despite him wanting many of your interactions and ways of showing affection to be more traditionally romantic, such as cuddling or going out on friendly dates, he won't cross any boundaries. Both because you're his closest, most prized relationship with another person, and because he can't think of many other people who would even be willing to enter such a relationship with him if he ever asked. Not that he'd want to ask anyone else. There's a reason why he immediately went to you. It's hard for him to describe it, though. Despite being a man of words, whenever he tries to explain why he feels like you are the perfect person for him to enter this queerplatonic relationship with, he stumbles heavily.

• His little ideal for this relationship is, essentially, the types of things he's read in the romance novels he has. Sure, a little bit of a twisted version of it, but at it's core it's the same. He wants to cuddle in a nice, safe, and warm room (while there's probably the screams of an extermination going on the background). He wants to go to restaurants (this man's a cannibal so check your food). He wants to do the cheesy move of handing you red roses and candy as a gift (do not ask how he was able to buy such an expensive brand, or where the two large, heavy trash bags came from or what they are filled with).

• He's going to be very, VERY protective of you. Almost, if not completely to an obsessive degree. He knows how Hell is. People want power, and he's powerful, and you are close to him. He's sure many people are going to go after you, in order to get to him. So, your little relationship is going to be as well protected of a secret as it can be, at first, until he believes he can properly protect you from any danger. And after the secret is out, he's going to be right by your side the entire time. Literally. Whenever he can be, he's next to you. Nobody, except maybe Vox or another pesky overlord, is going to try to hurt you as long as he is there. Even then, he could completely destroy them, anyways!

[saintsenara]

idk if you have ever talk about this before but in case you havent, what do you think of the infamous "Albus Severus" Potter name? overall how do you feel about Harry's naming his kids?

thank you very much for the ask, anon!

i'll be honest, its infamy always strikes me as a classic case of the fandom not being able to separate what characters would do from what they would do.

because i completely appreciate that most people probably wouldn't name their children after a teacher who bullied them and a man who sent them to the death...

but harry would.

albus severus makes perfect sense as a name on the basis of who harry is, how he understands honour and lineage, how he comes to think of both snape and dumbledore over the course of deathly hallows, and how those thoughts would expand and deepen as time passes after the end of the pre-epilogue canon.

i also don't find the james and lily thing weird. i know plenty of people who are named after their dead relatives, including a couple of people who are named after murdered relatives, and it's not something anyone i know would look twice at. nor do the families of any of those people have trouble understanding them as their own person. i presume this would be considered stranger - and/or more inhibiting to a child's sense of identity - in other parts of the world, but i just understand it as something families do.

what does strike me as odd, though, is how much of this fandom forgets two things: that there are generally two people involved in naming a child; and that ginny is not a doormat.

it always seems to me that - whether people think the kids' names are suitable or not - harry is assumed to have been exclusively responsible for them, while ginny is assumed either to have been railroaded into doing what harry wanted, or to have nobly forfeited any say in the naming process because her only goal in life is to sacrifice everything to make harry happy.

[when it comes to the boys' names, at least. people do seem to go for the idea that ginny's responsible for the luna part of lily luna.]

but i think this is nonsense - and it clearly puts enough of a bee in my bonnet that i've had her say so in two pieces of my writing...

in everlasting ink:

James will be born with the cord wrapped around his neck, grey and still, and there will be hours - or maybe just seconds which feel like hours - in which she doesn't breathe, skin going cold and vision whiting, until he roars, rattly and indignant, as though being born was an unwelcome disturbance in his otherwise busy day.   That's why she'll want him to have Sirius' name. His first cry will sound like a motorbike.

and [when i finally get around to posting the next chapter] one year in every ten:

'What on earth possessed you to agree to that name?' 'I didn't agree to it. I picked it. I hope you don't think so little of Harry that you think he'd deny me a say in the names of my own children?' 'But Albus -' 'He was very kind to me. Dumbledore. After what happened... It was like I was sleepwalking. Nothing felt real. It was like I wasn't fully in my own body. And everyone was acting like everything was fine - yay, Ginny's back to normal! - and I just went along with it. I don't know why... There was this afternoon, just before the end of term, and I was trying to go down to the lake, but I'd got stuck - I guess that's the word - on the stairs. I literally couldn't move... And then Dumbledore came round the corner and he said "are you quite alright, Miss Weasley?" and I said "oh yes, I’m right as rain" and he just looked at me - you know the way he used to look at you, like he could read your mind - and it all came bursting out of me. How I didn't think I'd ever feel happy again. How I thought a little bit of me might have been left in the Chamber. How I worried my whole life had been broken by what you did to me and it would never be fixed. And he said - I'll never forget it - "there is nothing wrong with being broken, Miss Weasley, if you try to see the cracks as how the -" '"- light gets in". I should have known that was a pre-rehearsed bit of sentimentality...' 'I remember thinking about it when he died. He was lying there, broken, and I remember thinking "where's your light now?" But it turned out that he knew what he was doing.' 'That's one way of putting it...' 'And then we picked Severus for his middle name because we thought it would annoy Snape and that would be funny. And it did and it was.'

[rosakuma]

Possible Parallels to Ace/Nico and Arei/Eden? Spoilers for Ch. 2

Okay so with the next episode approaching us fast, I wanted to get out this post that is something that could connect to the case via the similarities between Arei and Eden with Ace and Nico. This is a mixture of character analysis and theory through the eyes of Culptrit Eden view.

Note: Just because there similarities doesn’t fully cement that Eden is the culprit + I’ll be giving an interpretation on some parts that could be a possible connection. So take this subjectively 😋

Let’s get to our big meanies! To start out, let’s compare two of the biggest jerks of DRDT’s cast, Ace and Arei.

When it comes to their role as a bully to their respective target, both are different while being similar to their approach. Ace and Arei verbally bullyies Nico and Eden with insults or assumptions on them.

When it comes to Ace, his insults and assumptions are based off his own insecurities and paranoia on how others see him. While we still don't know what causes him to feel this way, we can see how this affects others like Nico and also bites him in the back with everyone hating him because of this.

Nico being the victim of these outbursts affects them hard to take things too far due to Ace’s behavior to them reminding them of unsavory memories in their past. Nico seems to had moments similar to what Ace would do of yelling at them for saying something wrong bluntly(though to them, they don't mean it in a bad way) or getting at them for either “Wanting Pity” or “Can’t defend themselves “. Knowing how Nico’s identity of being nonbinary has cause bullies to come after them with throwing rocks/mud at them or being accused of trying to get attention in a derogatory way, this is why Ace’s accusations towards them trying to get pity got to them hard. Enough to commit murder as while I don't think Nico before the killing game tried to kill their dad or any of their peers/teachers, I do think this reflects that Nico wishes they had power over them or maybe thoughts of harming them just to get back at them. Being able to have that temporarily over Ace, it was probably the first time they were able to take action back to others who treated them awful just for who they are as a person.

Getting back to Ace. Ace is aware of this behavior being too much when it comes to his anger, but still goes ahead with it regardless. Even though deep down, he wishes he both was and wasn't the things he claims Nico is. That someone would save him from this situation of the killing game/his self sabotage behavior and care about him. But he also doesn't want to let his guard down with being in this scary situation and refuses to let anyone talk shit to him to his face. That's why it hurt so much when his projection of this person being Levi was shattered the moment Levi reveals he does not care about anyone, including Ace who could live or die for all he cares. This is just speculation, but with this chapter showcasing everyone’s flaws or hints that there’s more to them. I believe Ace in a way like Arei, probably went through something to cause his paranoia on everyone thinking that he’s hot headed idiot and the need to “fight back” to show he’s not weak either. That no one really cares about him except for one person(Taylor) who’s presumably dead now. If I had to guess, it could relate to his talent of being a jockey in perhaps the competition would get to his head and knowing he can’t fail(maybe perhaps thanks to his family whether to disappoint them or fail to support them). Resulting in the Ace we know today as the hot headed all bark, but no bite jockey who doesn't care that his body is failing him as who’s going to care? He only got himself and he can’t go out until he dies on his own terms. He truly lives up to his secret quote of “I don’t know what to do with myself anymore” as he cannot figure out if he wants to just isolate and hurt himself in the process or to let others in to help him out and change this harmful behavior of his.

Going onto Arei, her way of bullying Eden is more out of a mixture envy and concern for her. Before we knew Arei was her manipulative self who would fake being nice and cry during ch.1 before revealing herself and started insulting others. After Min’s death in ch.2 we see how her feelings about what happened cause to her act out in this chapter.

When Eden was searching for her to have her join her clock activitity with her and Teruko, Arei burst out in disgust about this invitation. Eden confused as Arei wanted to join last activity, gets hit with Arei blaming her for Min’s death. For pretending to be all sad about Min dying, before returning to her usually happy self. Telling her that acting this way and trying to do these “friendship” bonding activities is just going to cause more people to die. And it’ll will be all your fault.

This pushes Eden to tears and she runs away. To where we get in the conversation with Arei, David, and Teruko that she reveals her world view. That thanks to her sisters, her life been hell. That she used to be a nice person who tried being kind to others, but that kindness was only met by hate and manipulative jerks who take their sick kicks out on her because they had more power over her. Arei had no one who cared about her or show her kindness, only those who taught her its a dog eat dog world and you better get with it if you want to survive.

In a way, her bullying towards Eden unlike Ace’s towards Nico is because in her own way, she’s trying to help Eden. Eden probably reminds Arei of her old self that she had to disregard to survive during her childhood to adulthood. She doesn't wish any actually harm on Eden, she just wants Eden to not end up hurting like she did. But at the same time while not enjoying making Eden cry over this, she does feel something towards her. Envy

Arei feels envious towards how someone like Eden can exist. That she can be kind in this cruel world and no one takes advantage of her for it. That she can be this way and not experience any hell that Arei did despite not wanting to always be this way.

This makes me feel the connection between Ace and Arei. Both are envious towards their victims with what they have that they never gotten. Both Nico and Eden have people who cared about them and doesn't think of them being less than who they are. They can be themselves in this killing game with no one taking advantage of them(well until I guess the David reveal but nevermind that). While these two are trying to survive in a terrible situation with their own survival instincts they develop to survive in the world before this game. Although Arei before her death was trying to break out from this, to where she was given a hand from both Eden and David. Arei wanted to change even if she thought she was far too gone too. To be a good person like Eden and David. Even when getting her view of them shattered with David being a crappy person, she was glad as she’s not alone. Arei is thankful that there is no bad or good person, that she can change to be less shitty as there’s no impossible standards to live up to achieve it. Though Ace never got to get this as he had no David or Eden to reach out for him, to realize that he may be a shitty person like everyone else, but he could change his ways.

Now you’re probably wondering “Where does Eden come into all of this?” “How does this possibly connects to her being the culprit?” The thing is since both our bullies here have connections in similarities of how they treat their targets and how both murders are similar in how they’re done. What about the targets?

As we established with Nico earlier, Nico was driven to murder Ace because Ace reminded them of their past trauma right? What if Eden did the same to Arei because she reminded her of her past? Full speculation on possible Eden lore based off the little tidbits we know.

Now I don't think how Arei bullied Eden was the reason why Eden would plan to kill Arei her especially since they made up. Rather I think the reason why Eden killed her is because of when they made up. Remember, this is just speculation, so take this with a grain of salt.

I think with Eden’s secret being “Ever since you kissed her, you were afraid your sexuality would ruin your friendships” is connected to Arei’s friendship towards Eden. Whether this girl in the past was actually Arei maybe during their time at Hope’s Peak or someone else, I think when Arei promised to be Eden’s friend brought back memories to her. To someone who promised to be her friend, to protect her, to do stuff with her like baking dumb cakes, and to be someone she could rely on. We can tell with how that secret sounds, it might’ve ended badly for Eden’s crush on this girl who she felt like she ruined their friendship with.

When Arei promised to be this type of friend to Eden for now on, it caused Eden to think back to her and that Eden didn't want to be attached to someone like that again. It was already painful enough to lose that person because of who she was, she doesn't want to relive what happened to her. So she rather cut off what could’ve been a beautiful friendship that has the potential of becoming more just to prevent the hurt of losing someone like that again. With being inspired by Nico’s murder attempt, Eden was able to have the idea to have her plan in action.

Along with this, I think this could explain Eden’s behavior throughout this chapter with how strange she’s been acting about Arei’s death during the investigation to trial. She does clearly care about Arei and wanted to be her friend, but she doesn't want to be too attached to feel regret. Maybe if Arei’s words about Eden being sad about Min and then returning to her cheery self means anything, Eden is trying to do that with Arei of showing grief for a split second before trying to focus on “solving” the case to avoid feeling responsible to her death. Eden does regret doing the murder if she is the culprit as shown how she is so hurt about how she could’ve been friends with Arei, how Arei wanted to change to be a better person, and that she doesn’t want anyone to think any less of Arei that she willingly killed herself. But unlike Nico, who was able to finally speak up for themselves and admit their wrongdoings of almost committing murder, to acknowledge that they are not the victim in this situation. Eden is instead hiding and doing what she always done, rely on others to help her because she is too weak to do so. Her fatal flaw that prevents her from acknowledging that she did wrong and isn’t the ideal good person that Arei looked up to. Unbeknownst to her that Arei already knew Eden wasn’t perfect as she seemed to be.

Also it would make Charles’ conversation with Teruko in thinking that the secret he got(Eden’s) is actually important to the case as tragic but also kinda funny foreshadowing.

Essentially to boil down the connections between both parties in a nutshell:

The bullies are individuals who went through a tough life that formed their way of survival and takes it out on those who they perceived weaker than them.

The targets have to rely on others to protect them or fight their battles(Nico doesn’t do this on purpose as Hu defends them whether they want her or not, but still it happens).

The murders done to the bullies were because the targets were reminded of their past, which pushed them to commit murder.

The murder method are the same with the pulley method and making it seem like a suicide.

The target’s secrets are related to their identity(Eden being a lesbian and Nico being nonbinary) With all of this being said, I think this is the best way I can come up with how Culprit Eden could work motive wise as one of the many reasons why people believe that she couldn’t be the murder is because of no motive we can think that makes sense for her to kill her new friend. Because to be honest I do believe that Eden is the culprit based off the evidence against her with most of the things(the tape, learning the method, the note, the clothes) connecting more to her than Ace. But only reason why I’m still not 100% sure in her being the culprit is the motive. But now if this is true, then this can cement that Eden Tobisa, the ulitmate clockmaker, is the murder of Arei Nageishi!

Anyways, this case can go either way and I just know we’re all going to be destroyed this Friday when the episode airs. One of our gays is going to be buried and there’s nothing we can do about it 🥲

[the-astrophel-system]

Why Alters Are All You, & The Formation Of DID

Tw for talk of abuse (implications to different types), trauma, unsafe caregivers, trauma responses, homophobia, and brief talk of death. We're talking about the formation of DID, childhood trauma, please be cautious if you continue.

Let's discuss what people say is the basics of Dissociative Identity Disorder, its formation. The current leading theory is the Theory of Structural Dissociation (ToSD). Yes, we still need to know more about this disorder, but this is the current leading theory and was written by Ellert R. Nijenhuis, Kathy Steele, and Onno Van Der Hart. They took some research, ideas, and words from other authors and researchers, added their research and ideas, mixed it all together and presented us with the ToSD in their book: The Haunted Self.

Now, there are plenty of problems with the theory, and I know that Hart and other researchers you see in this field haven't been the best people. However, it is currently the leading theory. Colin A Ross spoke about numerous problems with the theory, but he even states that this theory is a significant contribution. While yes, it isn't perfect, and any scientific theory can and should be constantly improved on, its pretty damn good. What I understood from reading Ross' response, the understanding it gives us of DID is good, the issue is when it addresses other disorders, or lack there of. I will state, before going onto my point of the post, that Ross mentions that there is confusion of what counts as an emotional part (EP). In the sense of, how differentiated does an EP need to be, to count as a separate dissociated state?

I don't want to go into that all today, because I'm not a professional and cannot confirm what would count, at least in Ross' eyes.

What I want to talk about, is what the ToSD does give us, and why it explains that all parts/alters are You.

Now, I know I will get a lot of hate for this. So all I'll say is that: I'm willing to discuss this matter further, however I will not tolerate any insults, threats, belittlement, or any other kinds of hate. If you are mature, I'm open to discussion.

The ToSD states that everyone is born with ego states. These states are in charge of meeting specific needs. A child needs love, affection, food, comfort, sleep, etc etc. If a child is able to dissociate to a high level, has a disorganised attachment to their primary caregiver (which is inherently traumatic), and experiences repeated childhood trauma, they can potentially develop DID.

If a child experiences trauma, their brain is going to do its absolute best to protect them. They may fight, flight, or freeze (especially if it is repeated). Maybe all three. That child may subconsciously think that if they were a different gender, or a different age, or maybe if they were stronger or scarier, they could prevent this from happening to them. Maybe they felt like they deserved this pain, that they're an awful monster, or just a toy or an animal to their abusers. Maybe they just refused to accept this was happening to them because if it did, they would be dead.

Their brain will do anything it can to try and prevent and explain this trauma.

They may try to seek help from caregivers, but remember, in the case of DID, that child will have some kind of disorganised attachment. That child will not feel safe enough to tell them about this trauma, or if they do, they aren't supported in the way they need to heal and process. Maybe their caregivers are the source of this trauma, they have already tried to tell them to stop.

Nothing is working, this child is essentially trapped.

So, like I said earlier, this child's subconscious is working on overdrive and trying its absolute best to survive this. Dissociation is a very complex and extraordinary coping mechanism.

So the child pushes away the trauma, dissociating so chronically they disconnect to everything happening, and themselves. This dissociation is keeping those different ego states separated, preventing from them integrating during childhood. Instead, this dissociation basically creates amnesiac barries between each ego state. If that dissociation wasn't there, those states would try to integrate, but because some experienced trauma, they cannot harmoniously coexist. This is the differentiation between ANP's and EP's. ANP's (apparently normal parts) are the parts that are in charge of daily living, they are disconnected from any trauma. EP's (emotional parts) are the parts that remember or are connected to different traumas. EP's dont have to be emotional, it simply is to refer to the parts that are connected to trauma.

Anyway, mini ramble aside. ANP's and EP's are separated from each other, they still are aiming to meet certain needs for the child/person now. That's why it is so helpful or common for systems to catagorise alters into roles. Some parts are simply trauma responses, some exist to make friendships and connections, some have very specific roles/needs they meet, some alters exist to soothe, or protect, or whatever. They are still dissociated parts, aiming to meet needs.

All alters are still dissociated from each other, and some may believe they are the only one there, or the "original" because they are an ANP or host. Again there is not an "original" because the full personality was never whole to begin with. You started with different ego states, and you still are different ego states (obviously alters have grown and developed (but still not fully)).

So with that being understood, lets address the title of this post. All alters are You. Thinking about everything I have addressed for far, all alters are dissociated from each other, so what do you mean there can be a "You"? Again, I'm not talking about an "original", I'm talking about all aspects of the Self that is being dissociated from.

I used to find this fact absolutely ridiculous and hurtful and dismissing. But after starting to learn more about this disorder, working on self validation, and starting on trauma processing, it has made it so much easier to understand.

I, Virgil, am a part of Clem and Skye. Clem and Skye are parts of me. And this is the same for all alters. We are all different ego states that are dissociated from each other, from the Self.

So, what happens if we all fuse? And no, I'm not saying that's the only way to heal, I'm just trying to put this in perspective. If we all fuse, we would be dissociating so much less, we would be fused ego states and we'd create a fully formed and developed personality. We are all parts, and if we fuse, we create a whole.

A whole that we are no longer dissociating from. We will be the whole Self, the whole "You". We will not be dissociating from each other.

I cannot express this enough, fusions happen when you no longer need alters to be separated, they can exist harmoniously, they share emotions and thoughts and feelings and they are not dissociated from each other. There is no memory amnesia, or identity amnesia between them.

Again to clarify, all alters are dissociated ego states that grow and develop, and then if you all fuse, that is when the Self is no longer dissociated from. You'll finally be a complete You.

Another thing I want to address is differing opinions of alters. Let's use another hypothetical. Let's say you have like five different alters that are all queer in some way, but you have five that are cisgender and straight. Two of those cishet alters are homophobic and transphobic. So, if you all fuse, what will you identify as? While I cannot say anything for certain, I can take a big guess and say that no matter what you identify as, you may not be homophobic/transphobic. In this hypothetical, I'm assuming those alters have those beliefs because of things they experienced growing up. Internalised homophobia and all that. As you process trauma and become more accepting of yourself, and you fuse, I would guess those parts are no longer dissociated from that queer identity, whatever that identity may be.

I hope this makes sense. While alters can and do grow outside of trauma, those foundations are shaped because of the experiences of the child. Age, gender, opinions, personality, species, and even sexuality, can all be based and rooted in that trauma and experiences.

Healing from that trauma means reconnecting with the Self, whatever that looks like for you. It may not be the singlet persona many systems use, it may not be the host, it may be something different than what you originally thought. But it will be You and it will be right. It will be the Self that you've finally reconnected with.

Anyway, I think I've rambled enough. TLDR: all alters are You, and if you fuse, you will reconnect with the Self that was originally being dissociated from.

small edit: it is okay if you aren’t ready to accept alters and trauma. but that doesn't change the fact that you're all dissociated parts ✌️

[shitty-proendo-blackout-posts]

I’m going to preface this by saying i am against faking disorders and therefore anti endogenic “systems” but can you genuinely explain why you believe that endos are valid./srs i just wanna know your thought process

- the vast majority of endogenic systems arent claiming to have a dissociative disorder. and the ones who do arent claiming to have no trauma whatsoever, just that the trauma didnt cause their system to form. (or theyre being really pedantic about the word "usually" in the dsm5 but i can only think of one person who does that). i dont think that counts as faking a disorder.

- i also dont think its hurting anyone for people to have an experience thats vaguely similar to a disorder without having said disorder.

- i try to respect people's beliefs, even if i dont understand or agree with them. even if i didnt believe endogenic plurality was a thing, i still would respect people who do believe it. because in my opinion, it harms nobody. im not going say that im anti-past life therians just because i dont believe in reincarnation, or put anyone religous on a dni because i dont think that any higher power exists.

- and speaking of: werewolf therians arent faking clinical lycanthropy. undeadkin arent faking cotards syndrome. so following that logic, nontraumagenic systems arent faking did/osdd. [I am not trying to use either of these disorders as a "gotcha", I am just explaining the mindset I have. But if anybody with clinical zooanthopy or cotards syndrome would like me to delete this part, please let me know and i will do so immediately. /srs]

- the brain is weird. multiple identities/selves/whatever without childhood trauma probably isnt the weirdest.

- also i might be misremembering but arent theyre multiple authors who have said that they can actually talk to and/or hear their characters? i highly doubt every single author who has experienced that has did and introjects of their characters and just doesnt realize it.

i hope at least some of this makes sense 👍

[lycandrophile]

if you feel comfortable sharing, how do you identify now?

mostly, i just call myself a trans man now. i really haven’t spent too much time trying to find a word to replace transmasc in my vocabulary.

i haven’t really fully disidentified with transmasc either. when people talk about transmascs as a collective, i still consider myself part of the group they’re talking about. i still describe the process i’m going through as a transmasculine transition. and transmasculinity as a concept, as something lived and embodied, is still really important to me and my understanding of my gender. it’s less that i feel no connection to the word “transmasc” and more that just saying “i am transmasc” doesn’t really accurately describe the way i relate to the word anymore.

it’s partly because i just…don’t consider myself to be all that masculine. i’ve never been particularly feminine either, but even femininity is something i can at least put on for a little while; masculinity is a complete mystery to me in a lot of ways. i don’t know how to do it. and i’m not just talking about cisheteronormative masculinity either — i have so much admiration (and often envy) for the butches and bears and drag kings and other people who embody queer masculinity, but that doesn’t come naturally to me either. so it feels weird to identify myself using a word that puts so much emphasis on masculinity when i don’t see myself that way and i doubt anyone who knows me would either. i’ve played around with using transandrogynous instead for that reason, and i think that’s probably the most accurate alternative.

but i still mostly just find myself not really caring about defining myself on the basis of masculinity, femininity, androgyny, or any of those concepts because none of them are as important to me as the fact that i’m a man. whether my presentation would be best described as masculine, feminine, or androgynous can and does change from day to day, month to month, year to year. but regardless of which way i present myself, i’m always a man. that’s always what i want people to know about me. the underlying assumption of my manhood is what makes me comfortable exploring femininity and androgyny at all. so if i have to define myself, why not just say i’m a trans man?

it’s also partly because the way people define the word transmasc has shifted in the years since i first came out and started describing myself that way. when i first learned it, it was pretty much universally understood as an umbrella term that included (but also extended beyond) trans men. so when i started identifying as a man, transmasc remained a broader but still accurate identity. but now, i see more and more people defining trans men and transmascs as two distinct groups, and while there is still a general understanding that trans men can be and often are transmasc, there are also a lot more people who assume that if you describe yourself as one, you must implicitly be excluding yourself from the other. and because my identity as a man is so important to me, i’m not comfortable with saying “i’m transmasc” if people might assume me saying that means I’m not also a man.

and i think it’s partly because transmasc is a label i leaned on a lot when i was at a point where part of me recognized that i was a man, but i resisted calling myself a man because of all the baggage that came along with that. it was a compromise — a way to get “close enough” to what i actually felt, to get people to use the right words for me and get the right idea about me, without having to say “i am a man”. because back then, manhood was something inherently worse in my mind and the minds of the people i surrounded myself with than the nonbinary identity i’d been claiming until that point. but now, i don’t feel that way at all. i love manhood and men and being a man! so for me, letting go of transmasc as a label and giving myself permission to just say i’m a man has been an important part of accepting the fact that i am a man and learning that being a man isn’t a “bad” way to be trans.

basically, my identity hasn’t really changed at all, i just realized that saying “i’m transmasc” is a less accurate way of describing my gender than just saying “i’m a trans man”.

now, that’s not to say i don’t have other ways of describing my identity or that my understanding of my identity hasn’t changed a lot recently, but that’s a whole other can of worms and god knows this answer is long enough already. suffice to say, my gender is much more complicated than 100% Binary Man, Same Gender As A Cis Man, but i don’t worry about explaining that to every person i come across. if someone is so unfamiliar with me that they have to ask me to define my gender in the first place, then as far as they’re concerned, i’m just some fucking guy.

[thequeenofneverland1]

Damon and Stefan Salvatore////In the shallow of Katherine Pierce Part Four

Warnings: Emotional Manipulation, Violence and Threats, Grief and Loss, Character death, Emotional Distress, Romantic Conflict, Psychological Manipulation , Supernatural Elements, Alcohol Use and Identity Crisis

The morning sun streamed through the windows as you sat in the kitchen with Elena, sipping a cup of coffee. You’d hardly slept after everything that had happened with Elijah, the kiss still playing over and over in your mind. Knowing you couldn’t keep it in any longer, you decided to confide in your sister, hoping she’d help you make sense of the chaos swirling in your heart.

“Elena,” you began hesitantly, setting your mug down. “I need to tell you something. But you have to promise not to freak out.”

She raised an eyebrow, already intrigued. “That depends on what it is. But fine, I promise… no freaking out.”

You took a deep breath, avoiding her eyes. “Last night, I bumped into Elijah.”

Elena’s brow furrowed, but she stayed silent, waiting for you to continue.

“And he…kissed me,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper.

Elena’s jaw dropped. “What? You kissed Elijah?”

You immediately shook your head, correcting her. “No! He kissed me. I mean, we were talking, and I wasn’t expecting it, but then he just… kissed me.”

Elena leaned back in her chair, eyes wide. “So… did you like it?” she asked, a mix of curiosity and concern in her voice.

You hesitated, running a hand through your hair. “I don’t know,” you admitted. “I’m confused. It caught me off guard, and I wasn’t sure how to feel. But…” You trailed off, trying to put your feelings into words.

“But what?” Elena pressed, leaning forward intently.

You sighed, staring at your hands. “When I’m with the Mikaelsons or one of them. it feels different. It’s intense, almost like they see a part of me that no one else does. But when I’m with Damon or Stefan… it’s just…”

Elena tilted her head, studying you closely. “It’s just what?”

You met her gaze, your voice soft but certain. “It just feels like home. Like no matter how complicated things get, or how lost I feel, they’re always there to pull me back. It’s not just one of them; it’s both. They understand me in a way that no one else does. And despite everything, it’s always them. It’ll always be the Salvatores.”

Elena blinked, absorbing your words. “Wow,” she said finally. “That’s… a lot. So, what are you going to do about Elijah?”

“I don’t know,” you admitted, shaking your head. “I think I need to set boundaries with him. Whatever that kiss was, it can’t happen again. My heart and everything belongs with Damon and Stefan. Even if I don’t fully understand it yet.”

Elena reached out, giving your hand a supportive squeeze. “I get it,” she said gently. “But you need to be careful. This love triangle or whatever it is has the potential to get messy fast. Just make sure you’re honest with everyone involved, okay?”

You nodded, feeling a little lighter after sharing your feelings. “Thanks, Elena. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

She smiled, her usual sisterly warmth shining through. “You’d be lost, obviously,” she teased. “But seriously, you’ll figure it out. Just trust yourself or maybe don’t go kissing any more Mikaelsons.”

You rolled your eyes, laughing despite yourself. “Noted. No more Mikaelson kisses.”

As the two of you continued to talk, you felt a renewed sense of clarity. Whatever was happening between you and the Salvatores and now Elijah. you’d find a way to navigate it. One step at a time.

The night air was cool against your skin as you walked through the quiet streets, your thoughts swirling. You needed space, time to process everything. your hybrid revelation, the kiss with Elijah, and the undeniable connection you felt with Damon and Stefan. It felt like your world was spinning out of control, and for once, you just wanted silence.

But, of course, silence wasn’t something Katherine Pierce would ever allow.

“Ah, there she is,” came her familiar, taunting voice from behind you.

You froze mid-step, your heart sinking as you turned to face her. Katherine emerged from the shadows with her signature smirk, her dark eyes gleaming with amusement.

“What do you want, Katherine?” you asked, exhaling sharply.

She took a slow, deliberate step closer, her heels clicking against the pavement. “Oh, I just wanted to check on my darling daughter,” she said mockingly. “You’ve been busy, haven’t you?”

You crossed your arms, glaring at her. “I’m not in the mood for your games. Just say what you came to say and leave me alone.”

Katherine chuckled, tilting her head as if studying you. “You know, it’s fascinating watching you. You think you’re so different from me, but you’re not. In fact, you’re exactly like me.”

Your jaw tightened. “I’m nothing like you.”

“Really?” she drawled, arching an eyebrow. “Because from where I’m standing, you’re following in my exact footsteps. First, you kiss Elijah. What’s next? Damon? Stefan? Maybe both? You know, it’s only a matter of time before you do more than just kissing.”

Your cheeks flushed with a mix of anger and embarrassment. “You don’t know anything about me or what I feel.”

Katherine laughed, a sharp and cold sound. “Oh, sweetheart, I know everything about you. You’re my daughter, after all. You crave attention, just like I did. You want them all to love you. And guess what? They do. The Mikaelsons, and the Salvatores are all falling for you. But let me give you a little spoiler: it won’t end well for you. It never does for people like us.”

You clenched your fists, your anger boiling over. “I’m not you, Katherine. I don’t manipulate people, and I don’t destroy lives for fun. Whatever choices I make, they’re mine. not yours. So stop projecting your twisted life onto me.”

Katherine’s smirk faltered for a moment, but she quickly recovered, her expression turning icy. “Keep telling yourself that, Y/N. But one day, you’ll realize I was right. And when that day comes, I’ll be waiting to say, ‘I told you so.’”

She stepped back, her figure melting into the shadows as quickly as she’d appeared.

You stood there, shaking with frustration and disbelief. Katherine���s words lingered in your mind, poking at your insecurities. But deep down, you knew she was wrong. You weren’t her. You could never be her.

Taking a deep breath, you turned and continued walking, determined to prove to everyone and to yourself that your path would be different.

The morning sun streamed through the windows of the Salvatore kitchen as Damon whistled a tune, flipping a pancake with a flick of his wrist. The delicious scent of batter and sizzling butter filled the room, making your stomach growl. You wandered into the kitchen, still in your pajamas, rubbing the sleep from your eyes.

“Morning, Princess,” Damon greeted with his trademark smirk. “You’re just in time for a culinary masterpiece.”

You raised an eyebrow, leaning against the counter. “You? Cooking? Should I be worried?”

“Ha, ha,” he said dryly, pouring more batter onto the skillet. “I’m an excellent chef when I want to be. You’re about to experience breakfast art.”

As he flipped another pancake, you noticed something unusual about the stack already on the plate. Picking one up, you stared at it, then burst out laughing.

“Damon, not again with your vampire pancakes.” you said, pointing to the pancake. It had two berry eyes, a bloody red syrup mouth, and jagged whipped cream fangs.

“Excuse me, Princess?” he asks, pretending to be offended. “You like them so don’t lie and besides don’t they look cute?”

You laughed harder, clutching your stomach. “It looks like a deranged cartoon character. And what’s with the syrup? Did the vampire eat a victim or spill its lunch all over itself?”

“Excuse you, this syrup represents lifeblood,” he quipped, taking a dramatic tone. “Art must provoke emotion.”

“Yeah, my emotion is confusion,” you teased.

Stefan walked into the kitchen at that moment, eyebrows raising at the scene. “What’s going on here?” he asked, glancing at the stack of vampire pancakes.

“Damon’s Picasso phase, apparently,” you said, showing him the pancake.

Stefan sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Damon, can’t we just have a normal breakfast for once?”

“Normal?” Damon scoffed, gesturing toward his creation. “Normal is boring. This, dear brother, is art. And Y/N appreciates it. Don’t you, Princess?”

You smirked, holding up the pancake for closer inspection. “I mean… it’s definitely something. But I’m not eating this one. It looks like it’s judging me.”

Damon snatched the pancake from your hand, mock-offended. “Fine, I’ll eat it. You don’t deserve the brilliance of Vampire Pancake Damon.”

Stefan rolled his eyes and started pouring himself some coffee. “Why do I even bother? I’ll make normal ones for myself.”

Damon leaned closer to you with a wink. “Don’t worry, Princess, I’ll make you another. Just wait till you see the vampire bat pancakes.”

You laughed, shaking your head. “Only you, Damon. Only you.”

As you sat at the table, watching him create yet another pancake masterpiece, you couldn’t help but smile. Moments like these reminded you that, no matter how complicated your life had become, there was still room for laughter and pancakes. in your little vampire family.

The autumn air was crisp as you strolled down the main street of Mystic Falls, your arms looped through Damon’s and Stefan’s. Damon walked on your left, his typical smug smirk in place, while Stefan was on your right, offering his usual calm and reassuring presence. The brothers had insisted on accompanying you, claiming they wanted to “keep you out of trouble,” though you suspected Damon was more interested in flaunting the bond you shared.

“I’m just saying,” Damon was saying as he looked over at Stefan, “if she’s walking with both of us, it’s clear who the town’s favorite brothers are.”

“You mean me,” Stefan countered, shaking his head with a small grin. “You’re just here for comic relief.”

You laughed softly, looking between the two of them. “If you two keep bickering, I’m going to start walking by myself.”

Damon leaned closer to you with a smirk. “You wouldn’t dare, Princess. You love us too much.”

Before you could respond, you heard the unmistakable sound of approaching footsteps. Your heart sank as you looked ahead and saw the Mikaelsons brothers. The three of them stopped in their tracks, wearing matching smirks that instantly set Damon on edge.

“Well, well,” Klaus drawled, his blue eyes sparkling with mischief. “If it isn’t the Salvatores and their charming companion.”

Kol’s grin widened as his gaze landed on you. “Ah, Y/N. Fancy seeing you out and about. Taking the brothers for a stroll, are we? How domestic.”

You felt Damon’s grip on your arm tighten slightly as he muttered under his breath, “Great. Just what we needed. The Originals on parade.”

But it wasn’t Klaus or Kol who had your attention. It was Elijah. His expression was more controlled, but you could see the flicker of something in his eyes. something he didn’t bother to hide. The memory of the kiss you shared just days ago flashed in your mind, and you quickly looked away, your cheeks warming despite the chill in the air.

Elijah, however, kept his eyes on you, his usual poised demeanor softening for a fraction of a second. There was no smirk on his lips, only a subtle intensity that made your pulse quicken. Damon noticed and stepped slightly in front of you, his posture protective.

“Enjoying the view, Elijah?” Damon quipped, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

Elijah didn’t rise to the bait, his gaze still locked on you. “I was merely admiring the company you keep,” he said smoothly. “It seems you’ve developed quite the attachment to them.”

Kol chuckled darkly. “Oh, I’d say it’s more than that, wouldn’t you, brother? She seems to have a talent for charming all the wrong people.”

You shot Kol a warning look, but it was Klaus who stepped forward, his grin as sharp as a blade. “Careful, Y/N. Too much time with the Salvatores, and you might end up just as tragic as them.”

“Enough,” Stefan said firmly, his voice cutting through the tension. “Why are you even here? Looking for someone else to torment?”

Klaus shrugged innocently. “Torment? Us? Never. We were simply passing through.” His eyes glinted with amusement as they flicked between you and Elijah. “Though it seems some of us might have other motivations.”

Damon narrowed his eyes. “Whatever game you think you’re playing, Klaus, it’s not going to work. She’s with us.”

Klaus’s smirk didn’t waver. “Oh, I don’t doubt that. For now.”

You could feel the tension radiating from both sides, and you took a small step back, your stomach twisting. Elijah’s gaze softened just slightly as he noticed your discomfort, but before he could say anything, Damon spoke again.

“Unless you’ve got something important to say, why don’t you all run along?” Damon said coldly, his tone leaving no room for argument.

Klaus chuckled, clearly amused by the hostility. “Very well. We wouldn’t want to overstay our welcome.” He looked at you one last time, his smirk fading into something more calculating. “But do remember, Y/N, alliances can shift. Don’t let these two convince you otherwise.”

As the Mikaelsons walked away, Elijah glanced back once, his eyes meeting yours for a brief, heart-stopping moment before he turned and disappeared with his brothers.

Stefan let out a slow breath, his hand resting lightly on your arm. “Are you okay?”

“Fine,” you said quickly, though your heart was still racing.

Damon tilted his head, studying you with a knowing expression. “You’re a terrible liar, Princess. Want to tell us what that was all about?”

“Not really,” you muttered, looking down at the ground as you tried to steady yourself. But deep down, you knew this wasn’t over not by a long shot.

The Mikaelson brothers were gathered in the grand living room of their estate, the crackling fireplace casting shadows across the ancient walls. Kol lounged casually on the arm of a chair, his playful smirk firmly in place as he tossed a coin between his fingers. Klaus stood by the fireplace, swirling a glass of bourbon, his sharp blue eyes narrowed as they focused on Elijah, who sat stoically with his hands clasped in front of him.

“Elijah,” Klaus began, his tone dripping with suspicion, “care to explain why you were staring at Y/N like she was the Mona Lisa come to life? It was… noticeable.”

Kol’s smirk widened as he leaned forward. “Oh, come now, brother. We all saw it. The long, lingering looks, the softening of those usually stiff features of yours. Quite unlike you.” He arched an eyebrow, his tone teasing yet sharp. “So, care to enlighten us? Or shall we just assume you’ve joined the club?”

Elijah adjusted his posture, his face calm and unreadable as ever. “I’ve no idea what you’re talking about,” he said smoothly. “I was merely observing. She was walking with the Salvatores. Naturally, I was… curious about her condition.”

“Her condition,” Klaus repeated, his tone dripping with disbelief. He took a sip of his drink before shaking his head. “That’s rich, even for you, Elijah. Admit it. you’ve developed a… fondness for her.”

Kol laughed, flipping the coin in the air before catching it. “Fondness? Oh no, Nik, it’s more than that. Did you see the way he looked at her? Like he’d just seen the sun after a thousand years of darkness.”

Elijah’s jaw tensed, his hands folding neatly in his lap. “You’re both mistaken,” he said firmly. “I have no such feelings for Y/N. I was merely ensuring she wasn’t being manipulated by the Salvatores. We’ve seen how their… attachments can spiral into disaster.”

Kol rolled his eyes, clearly not buying the explanation. “Oh, please. You think I don’t recognize that look? It’s the same one Nik gets when he’s plotting how to win her over.”

Klaus shot Kol a warning glare but didn’t deny it. “Careful, Kol,” he said coolly. “You’re not exactly subtle yourself. I’ve noticed how you’ve taken to conveniently showing up wherever Y/N happens to be.”

Kol raised his hands in mock surrender. “Guilty as charged. Can you blame me? She’s enchanting. But this isn’t about me, is it? It’s about Elijah.” He turned his gaze back to his older brother, his smirk sharp and probing. “So, Elijah, tell us are you planning to woo her with your endless speeches about honor and morality?”

Elijah stood abruptly, his calm demeanor finally cracking just a little. “Enough,” he said sharply. “Whatever you may think you saw, it’s irrelevant. My interest in Y/N is purely protective.”

Klaus arched an eyebrow, his lips curling into a sly smile. “Protective, is it? That’s an interesting word, considering you kissed her.”

Kol’s grin widened in delight. “Oh, now this is getting good! Tell us, brother was it a chaste little peck, or something more… passionate?”

Elijah’s expression darkened, and he turned to leave the room, clearly done with the conversation. “Believe what you will,” he said over his shoulder. “But I suggest you focus less on me and more on how you intend to handle your own feelings for her.”

Kol and Klaus exchanged a glance as the door closed behind Elijah. Kol’s playful smirk softened just slightly, and Klaus swirled his bourbon thoughtfully.

“Well,” Kol said after a moment, “this just got a whole lot more interesting.”

Klaus chuckled, though there was an edge to it. “Indeed it has, brother. Indeed it has.”

As you walked your mind was swirling with everything that had happened. the secrets, the lies, the strange attraction you felt toward both the Salvatores and the Mikaelsons. It was all too much to handle, and you needed some time alone to think. You weren’t paying much attention to where you were going as you rounded a corner, and then—

You collided with something solid.

“Whoa, careful love,” Klaus’s voice came, smooth and tinged with amusement.

You stumbled backward slightly, but strong hands gripped your arms, steadying you. Looking up, you met his piercing blue eyes. He was standing just a few inches from you, his presence as commanding as ever. A faint, teasing smile played at the corners of his lips.

“Sorry,” you muttered, stepping back to regain your balance, though your heart was racing from the unexpected contact.

Klaus’s gaze never wavered, a knowing look passing between you as if he could sense the turmoil inside you. “No need to apologize. It’s not every day I get to run into someone as… distracting as you.”

You raised an eyebrow, not sure how to take that comment. “Distracting?”

He shrugged, his expression more serious now, though the playful glint still lingered in his eyes. “You are, aren’t you? With everything that’s happened recently… the Salvatores, my brothers and me, the confusion. It’s only natural that someone as fascinating as you would be caught in the middle.”

You narrowed your eyes, the weight of his words settling heavily on your chest. “What do you mean by that?”

Klaus’s hands slipped into his pockets as he leaned slightly closer. “I’m just saying that, whether you like it or not, you’re a part of all of this now. And let’s be honest, Y/N,” he said, his voice dropping lower, “it’s not just the Salvatores you’re thinking about. It’s us, too. You’re torn between two worlds. And honestly, I can’t help but wonder what choice you’ll make when the time comes.”

You took a step back, startled by his directness. “What are you talking about, Klaus? I’m not… torn between anything. I–.”

He interrupted you with a soft chuckle, his voice almost a purr. “Oh, but you are. I can see it in the way you hesitate when you’re around me. The way you look at me when you think no one’s watching. It’s like a dance, Y/N. and I’m sure you didn’t expect, but one that you’re caught in all the same.”

Your heart was racing now, and you hated that he was right. There was something about the way he spoke, the way he made you feel seen something that made your emotions all the more complicated.

Klaus tilted his head slightly, studying you with an intensity that made your breath catch. “I’m not here to make things more difficult for you. But if you ever decide that you don’t want to be tangled up in all of this… You know where to find me.”

His words hung in the air like a promise, and before you could respond, Klaus turned and walked away, his movements as graceful and assured as always. You stood there, frozen in place, feeling the weight of his gaze even after he was gone.

What was it about him? What was it about them all? You didn’t know how to answer, but one thing was certain: your world was changing, and the Mikaelsons were at the heart of it.

As you walked away from the spot where you had just encountered Klaus, still processing his cryptic words, you turned a corner and nearly collided with Kol. You hadn’t heard his approach, but then again, it wasn’t surprising. Kol was as stealthy as he was charming.

You froze, heart racing slightly. “Kol,” you muttered, startled.

He flashed a mischievous grin, his eyes twinkling with amusement. “I don’t bite darling well, not unless you ask nicely.”

You rolled your eyes, attempting to regain some semblance of composure. “Don’t you ever watch where you’re going?”

“Not really my style,” he said with a wink, leaning against the wall casually, arms crossed. “Though, I’m starting to wonder if it’s fate that keeps bringing us together.” He took a step closer, his gaze never leaving yours. “Every time I turn around, there you are, looking all… mysterious. Are you always this evasive, or are you just playing hard to get?”

You gave him a look. “I’m not playing anything. I’m just… trying to get through this mess.”

Kol tilted his head, his expression shifting to something more thoughtful. “Mess? I’m not sure I’d call it that. It’s a fascinating little game we’ve all found ourselves in. But I can see it’s taking its toll on you.” His voice softened, though it still carried that signature teasing tone. “You’ve been acting distant lately. Something on your mind?”

You hesitated. How much should you tell him? Was it wise to open up to a Mikaelson, of all people? They were unpredictable, dangerous. but there was something about Kol. Something that made him seem… different from his siblings. Still, the last thing you needed was to let him get too close.

“I’m fine,” you said quickly, brushing off his question. “Just trying to figure things out.”

Kol’s smirk didn’t falter. “Ah, yes. That old ‘I’m fine’ excuse. We both know that’s never the case, darling.” He took a step closer, his voice dropping lower, softer. “You’ve got something on your mind. You’re always thinking, always questioning. It’s written all over your face.”

You clenched your jaw, not wanting to give him any more than he already knew. But there was something about the way he said it. so disarming, so genuine that made it harder to keep up the walls you’d been so careful to build. Kol wasn’t like Klaus or Elijah, with their heavy stares and intense, brooding nature. Kol was more… playful. And in some ways, that made him even more dangerous.

“I’m just… confused, OK?” you finally admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. “I don’t know what to do anymore. There’s too much happening. too many people involved, too many emotions flying around. I can’t make sense of any of it.”

Kol’s expression softened, just a hint. He stepped closer, and for a moment, his playful demeanor disappeared, replaced with something else. something that looked almost like concern. “It’s alright to be confused, Y/N. You don’t have to have everything figured out right away. Life’s not like that, especially not with us. We’re all… tangled up in things we didn’t ask for.”

You looked up at him, your heart racing. His words were strangely comforting, but at the same time, they only made everything feel even more complicated.

Kol reached out then, his hand brushing against yours in an almost casual manner, though there was an undeniable spark in the touch. “You don’t have to figure it out alone. We’re all in this together, whether you like it or not. And who knows? Maybe it’ll all make sense eventually.”

Before you could respond, he flashed that devilish smile again, the playful Kol you knew, and took a step back. “But, for now, I’ll let you think it over. After all, I wouldn’t want to overwhelm you with all this charm.”

you found yourself at a loss for words. Kol was right about one thing: he had a way of making things seem… simpler, even if they weren’t.

“Just think about it,” he said, his voice lingering in the air. “We’re not all bad, you know. Some of us might even surprise you.”

And with that, he turned and walked away, leaving you standing there, your mind reeling once again.

As the evening settled in, casting long shadows across Mystic Falls, you wandered through the quiet streets, needing time to think. The tension between the Salvatores, the Mikaelsons, and everything else in your life was weighing you down. You turned a corner, only to stop short as you found yourself face-to-face with Elijah Mikaelson.

“Elijah,” you said, your voice a mix of surprise and hesitation.

He stood with his usual composed demeanor, hands tucked neatly into his pockets. His dark eyes studied you, and for a moment, you thought you saw something flicker behind them. regret? Concern? It was hard to tell with Elijah; he was always so carefully guarded.

“Y/N,” he greeted, his voice warm but measured. “Out for an evening stroll?”

You nodded, unsure of what to say. His presence always made you feel a strange mixture of comfort and unease. He had a way of looking at you, as if he could see right through the walls you tried so hard to keep up.

“I needed some air,” you admitted. “Everything’s been… a lot lately.”

Elijah took a step closer, his gaze softening. “Understandable. Your world has been turned upside down, and you’ve had precious little time to adjust.” His voice carried that calm, soothing tone he always seemed to have, and it eased some of the tension in your chest.

You looked away, feeling vulnerable under his watchful eyes. “I don’t even know what I’m doing anymore. Everyone has these… expectations of me. The Salvatores, you and your brothers, and Katherine. It’s like I’m being pulled in a hundred different directions.”

Elijah tilted his head, his expression thoughtful. “And what is it that you want, Y/N? Have you allowed yourself the chance to consider that?”

His question caught you off guard. You hadn’t had much time to think about what you wanted, caught up as you were in everyone else’s agendas. You sighed, running a hand through your hair. “I don’t know,” you said honestly. “I just want some peace. Some clarity. But it feels impossible.”

Elijah stepped even closer, his presence steady and reassuring. “Peace is not easily found in a life such as yours,” he said gently. “But clarity… that is something I may be able to help you with.”

You looked up at him, confused. “What do you mean?”

Elijah hesitated for a moment, as if weighing his next words carefully. Finally, he said, “I see a strength in you, Y/N. A resilience. It’s what sets you apart from others. But I also see the weight you carry, the doubts that plague you. You don’t have to bear it all alone.”

His words struck a chord, and for a moment, you felt the urge to lean on him, to let him take some of the burden. But then you remembered the kiss, the lingering feelings of confusion it had left behind. Being around Elijah was complicated, no matter how comforting he seemed.

“Elijah,” you began, your voice uncertain. “About the other night—”

“I was out of line,” he interrupted, his tone sincere. “I allowed my emotions to cloud my judgment, and for that, I apologize. I would never want to cause you any distress.”

You blinked, taken aback by his candor. “You didn’t—well, it’s not that. It’s just… everything feels so tangled right now. I don’t know what to think or feel.”

Elijah nodded, his expression understanding. “Then take your time, Y/N. You owe nothing to anyone, least of all me. Whatever path you choose, it should be one that brings you peace, not more chaos.”

His words were like a balm to your frazzled mind, and for the first time in days, you felt a small spark of clarity. “Thank you,” you said softly, meeting his gaze. “I mean it.”

Elijah inclined his head, a faint smile playing on his lips. “Anytime.”

As he stepped back, giving you space to continue your walk, you couldn’t help but feel a pang of something unnameable. gratitude? Fondness? Whatever it was, it only added to the complexity of your already tangled emotions.

You watched as he walked away, his figure disappearing into the shadows. And as you turned to head back home, you couldn’t help but wonder if maybe, just maybe, Elijah understood you better than you realized.

The evening had grown heavy, and so had your heart. After much deliberation, you decided it was time to come clean to Damon and Stefan. The weight of your secret. the kiss with Elijah and it was eating away at you, and though you didn’t want to hurt them, you knew they deserved the truth.

When you arrived at the Salvatore house, they were sitting in the living room, their usual playful banter filling the air. Seeing their carefree smiles only made the task ahead more difficult.

“Hey, princess,” Damon greeted, his voice as smooth as ever. Stefan looked up from his book, offering you a warm smile. “Everything okay?”

You hesitated, shifting on your feet. “I need to talk to you both. It’s… important.”

Their smiles faded, concerned about taking over as they exchanged a glance. Damon gestured to the couch. “Alright, spill. What’s going on?”

You took a deep breath, sitting down across from them. Your hands trembled slightly, and you clenched them together to steady yourself. “There’s something I need to tell you. And before I do, I just want you to know that I never meant to hurt either of you.”

Stefan leaned forward, his brows furrowing. “Y/N, what is it?”

“I kissed Elijah,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper.

The silence that followed was deafening. Damon froze, his signature smirk wiped clean from his face. Stefan’s expression crumpled into something between shock and pain.

“You what?” Damon finally said, his voice low and strained.

“It just happened,” you explained quickly, your words tumbling out in a desperate rush. “He was talking to me, and… it wasn’t planned. I didn’t mean for it to happen, and I—”

“You kissed Elijah?” Damon repeated, his tone sharper now, laced with disbelief.

“Actually,” you corrected softly, “he kissed me.”

That didn’t seem to help. Stefan stood up, pacing the room, his jaw clenched. “And you didn’t think to tell us sooner? Or were you just hoping we wouldn’t find out?”

“It wasn’t like that!” you said, your voice breaking. “I was confused, okay? I didn’t even know how I felt about it until—”

“Until now?” Damon cut in, his voice cold. “Well, thanks for letting us know where we stand, princess.”

His words stung, and you felt tears prick your eyes. “Damon, please, it’s not like that. I—”

“Save it,” he said, standing abruptly. “I think we’ve heard enough.”

The room felt suffocating, the tension unbearable. Stefan avoided your gaze, his expression one of quiet devastation. Damon wouldn’t even look at you.

“I should go,” you said, your voice trembling. “I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

Neither of them stopped you as you left. The weight of their pain followed you as you stepped outside, your heart feeling heavier with every step you took.

As you walked aimlessly through the dimly lit streets, your phone buzzed in your pocket. Hoping for a distraction, you answered without checking the caller ID.

“Y/N,” Elena’s voice came through, choked and panicked.

“Elena?” you said, immediately alarmed. “What’s wrong?”

“It’s Jeremy,” she sobbed, her words barely coherent. “He’s gone. He’s… he’s dead.”

The world seemed to tilt on its axis. “What?” you whispered, stopping in your tracks.

“It happened so fast,” Elena cried. “I couldn’t save him. He’s gone, Y/N. Jeremy’s gone.”

The phone slipped from your hand, clattering to the pavement. Your knees buckled, and you sank to the ground, the tears you’d been holding back finally spilling over.

First Damon and Stefan, now Jeremy. It felt like your world was shattering piece by piece, and there was nothing you could do to stop it.

You stayed there on the cold pavement, sobbing into the night, the weight of your choices and losses pressing down on you. The sound of Elena’s cries echoed faintly from the phone, a heartbreaking reminder of just how much had been lost in a single, devastating moment.

The night was eerily quiet, save for the soft crunch of leaves beneath your feet. Your heart felt like it was breaking with every step you took, tears streaming down your face as Jeremy’s death and your confrontation with Damon and Stefan replayed endlessly in your mind. Every breath was a struggle, every beat of your heart a painful reminder of everything you’d lost.

You barely noticed the familiar presence until a voice cut through the stillness, smooth and calculated.

“Sweetheart, why are you torturing yourself like this?”

You froze, turning to see Katherine standing in the shadows, her arms crossed and a knowing smirk playing on her lips. She stepped closer, her dark eyes glinting in the moonlight.

“Katherine,” you muttered, your voice hoarse from crying. “What do you want?”

“Me?” she said, feigning innocence. “I just want to help my darling daughter. You’re clearly falling apart. It’s written all over your face.”

“Don’t,” you snapped, trying to walk past her, but she moved swiftly, blocking your path.

“Don’t what?” Katherine said, tilting her head. “Don’t tell you the truth? Don’t remind you that this pain you’re feeling? It doesn’t have to be like this.”

You glared at her through tear-filled eyes. “I don’t want to hear it.”

She sighed dramatically, stepping even closer. “Of course you don’t. Because you’re stubborn, just like me. But let’s face it, baby. you’re drowning. Jeremy’s gone. The Salvatores are heartbroken. And you? You’re carrying all of it. It’s going to destroy you, Y/N. Unless…”

You didn’t ask her to finish. You didn’t want to hear it, but she continued anyway.

“Unless you do what I do sometimes,” Katherine said, her voice softer now, almost soothing. “Turn it off.”

Your stomach twisted at her words. “No. I won’t do that.”

Katherine laughed lightly. “Oh, but why not? What’s left for you here? Pain? Heartbreak? Guilt? Why carry it when you don’t have to? You’re a vampire now, Y/N. You have the choice to shut it all out. No more tears, no more hurt, no more weakness.”

You shook your head, stepping back, but her words burrowed into your mind like a poison. “I can’t,” you whispered.

“Can’t or won’t?” Katherine challenged, her tone sharpening. “You’re scared. You think holding onto this pain makes you better than me, but it doesn’t. It makes you weak. And you know what’s worse? All this guilt you’re carrying for other people. Damon, Stefan, Jeremy. it doesn’t matter. They’re not here. You’re the one suffering.”

Her words hit a nerve, and fresh tears spilled down your cheeks.

“Stop it,” you whispered, your voice trembling. “Just stop.”

Katherine leaned closer, her voice dropping to a near whisper. “Turn it off, Y/N. Do it, and you’ll finally be free. No more heartbreak, no more crying yourself to sleep, no more pain. It’s all just… gone.”

You clenched your fists, trying to fight the temptation. But her words lingered, and the pain in your chest felt unbearable. Katherine was right about one thing. you were drowning. And in that moment, the idea of escaping it all, of not feeling anything, seemed almost… merciful.

“I don’t want to feel like this anymore,” you admitted, your voice cracking.

Katherine’s smirk returned, triumphant. “Then don’t. Just let it go. Turn it off.”

You hesitated, the war inside you raging. Part of you wanted to fight, to hold onto the part of yourself that still cared. But the other part. the part that was tired, broken, and desperate was louder.

With a shaky breath, you closed your eyes and let go. The emotions that had been suffocating you. the grief, the guilt, the heartbreak began to fade, replaced by a cold, numbing void. When you opened your eyes again, the tears had stopped.

Katherine stepped back, studying you with approval. “There it is,” she said, a satisfied smile on her lips. “Now you’re ready to really live, Y/N.”

You didn’t say anything, your expression now blank and unreadable. The pain was gone, just as she promised. And with it, the weight of everything that had once mattered.

As Katherine turned and began to walk away, she glanced back over her shoulder. “You’ll thank me for this one day.”

You didn’t respond. You simply stood there, staring into the night, the world around you feeling strangely distant and hollow. For the first time in days, you felt nothing.

The moon hung low in the sky as you wandered aimlessly through the woods, your once vibrant demeanor replaced by a chilling indifference. The wind rustled through the trees, but its soothing whispers didn’t reach you. You weren’t the same anymore; you couldn’t feel the ache, the pain, the crushing grief. All that was left was a cold emptiness, and you welcomed it.

“Y/N.”

You froze at the sound of a familiar voice and turned to see the Mikaelsons stepping out of the shadows. Elijah, Klaus, and Kol stood before you, their expressions somber, each of them carrying an air of hesitation.

“We heard about your brother,” Elijah began, his voice gentle, as if he was treading carefully. “And we wanted to offer our condolences. If there is anything or anything at all that we can do, we are here for you.”

You stared at them for a moment, then burst into laughter. Not the kind of laughter that brought joy, but one that was hollow, biting, and unnerving. It echoed through the woods, cutting through the quiet night like a blade.

Klaus frowned, stepping closer. “Y/N, are you all right?”

“All right?” you repeated, your laughter dying abruptly as you took a step forward. “Oh, I’m better than all right. I’m finally free.”

Kol’s face darkened, suspicion flickering in his eyes. “What does that mean?”

Elijah studied you intently, his gaze sharp and assessing. Then it hit him. He took a step forward, concern etched on his face. “You turned it off, didn’t you?”

You tilted your head, a wicked smile creeping onto your lips. “And here I thought you were the smart one.”

“Love, no,” Klaus said, his voice firm, though there was an edge of worry. “This isn’t you. You’ve let Katherine get inside your head. Turn it back on. You need to grieve properly.”

“Grieve?” you scoffed, pulling out a stake from behind your back. The sight of it made the brothers instinctively tense. “Why would I want to do that? All grief does is hurt. And I’m done with that.”

“Y/N,” Elijah said softly, his calm demeanor unwavering despite the weapon in your hand. “We understand your pain. Losing a sibling is—”

“Don’t you dare talk to me about pain!” you snapped, your voice like venom. “You have no idea what I’ve been through. No idea what it’s like to have everything ripped away from you and be left with nothing!”

Kol tried to step closer, his tone gentle but wary. “We’re not your enemies, darling. We just want to help.”

You laughed darkly, spinning the stake in your hand. “Help? That’s rich. If you’re so concerned, then leave me alone. But if you insist on pushing, I’ll happily remind you why they call me dangerous.”

Klaus’s jaw clenched as he exchanged a glance with Elijah. “Y/N, you don’t mean that.”

“Oh, don’t I?” you said, your voice dropping to a deadly calm. “Try me, and you’ll find out just how serious I am. You’ll end up just like anyone else who gets in my way will end up dead.”

The Mikaelsons stood frozen, a mixture of shock and heartbreak on their faces. The warmth they’d always associated with you was gone, replaced by a cold, detached version of yourself that they barely recognized.

Elijah’s voice cracked as he spoke, his composure slipping. “This isn’t who you are, Y/N. Please, don’t let this define you.”

You tilted your head, smirking cruelly. “Maybe this is exactly who I am. Maybe you just didn’t know me as well as you thought.”

For a moment, silence hung in the air, the tension suffocating. Then, without another word, you turned on your heel and disappeared into the night, leaving the Mikaelsons standing there, their hearts heavy with the weight of your transformation.

“Did you see her eyes?” Kol whispered, his voice thick with emotion.

“She’s gone,” Klaus muttered, his tone unusually soft.

Elijah straightened, his face resolute despite the pain in his eyes. “No. She’s still in there. We’ll bring her back.”

The Mikaelsons watched the direction you’d vanished into, determined but broken. They knew the road ahead wouldn’t be easy, but they weren’t ready to give up on you. not yet.

The night was alive with music, laughter, and a carefree energy that felt almost foreign to you. You found yourself in one of Mystic Falls’ more discreet underground venues, the kind of place that Katherine knew all too well. Neon lights flashed in rhythmic patterns, casting a kaleidoscope of colors over the crowd. The air buzzed with the scent of alcohol, sweat, and exhilaration.

You were seated in a plush booth, leaning back with a glass of bourbon in your hand, watching the chaos unfold on the dance floor. Katherine was beside you, dressed to kill figuratively and, knowing her, probably literally. She looked like she owned the place, her smirk as sharp as ever.

“See, darling,” Katherine said, sipping her drink with a satisfied grin, “this is what life should be about. No strings, no guilt. Just fun. No one to judge you, no one to hold you back.”

You tilted your head, your lips curling into a smirk that mirrored hers. “It does have its perks. Though I didn’t peg you for the ‘mother-daughter bonding night’ type.”

Katherine laughed, tossing her hair over her shoulder. “Oh, please. I’m not that sentimental. But I couldn’t resist showing my baby girl how to truly enjoy the perks of being… well, us.”

She gestured to the scene around you and humans laughing and drinking, oblivious to the vampires in their midst. You could feel the pulse of their blood, the intoxicating allure of it calling to you, but tonight wasn’t about hunger. It was about indulgence in a different form.

Katherine suddenly stood, pulling you to your feet. “Come on. You can’t just sit there looking pretty all night.”

You raised an eyebrow, amused. “What exactly do you have in mind?”

Her grin widened as she led you to the dance floor. The crowd parted for her as if they instinctively knew not to get in her way. The music thumped loudly, and before you knew it, you were dancing alongside her.

At first, you felt a bit stiff, the weight of everything still lingering in the back of your mind, but Katherine wasn’t having it. She spun you around, laughing, and leaned in to shout over the music. “Loosen up, Y/N! You’ve already turned off your humanity. This is your chance to let go and have some real fun!”

As the beat picked up, you decided to follow her lead. You allowed yourself to sway to the music, to feel the energy of the crowd around you. It wasn’t long before you were laughing alongside Katherine, caught up in the wildness of the moment.

After a while, you found yourselves back at the bar. Katherine ordered another round of drinks, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “You’re getting the hang of it,” she said, nudging you with her elbow.

“Guess I had a good teacher,” you quipped, earning an approving nod from her.

As the night went on, you found yourself genuinely enjoying her company. Katherine might have been manipulative and self-serving, but tonight, she felt almost… human. She told you stories of her wildest escapades, some of which had you rolling your eyes, others that made you laugh so hard your sides hurt.

But the fun wasn’t without its edge. Katherine occasionally shot predatory glances at unsuspecting humans in the room, and you knew she was testing you, waiting to see if you’d follow her lead in a darker way.

When a particularly bold guy tried to flirt with you, Katherine’s smirk turned deadly. She stepped in, placing a protective yet condescending arm around your shoulders. “Sorry, sweetheart,” she told the guy, her tone dripping with fake sweetness, “she’s out of your league. Run along.”

You burst out laughing as the guy scurried off, and Katherine shrugged. “What? I can’t have anyone ruining our night.”

As the hours ticked by, you started to realize what Katherine was doing. She wasn’t just showing you how to have fun. she was pulling you deeper into her world, the one where consequences didn’t exist, and pleasure came before anything else.

For now, you let her, because it felt good to forget. But somewhere in the back of your mind, a small voice whispered that this wasn’t who you were.

For tonight, though, you silenced that voice.

The Mikaelsons entered the dimly lit club, their sharp eyes scanning the crowd. Klaus led the way, his jaw set with determination, while Kol followed close behind, exuding his usual air of mischief. Elijah, as composed as ever, trailed them, his eyes darting through the room in search of you. They had heard rumors of your activities with Katherine and were determined to find you, whether it was to bring you back or to confront you.

Suddenly, they spotted you standing by the bar, a glass of bourbon in hand. Klaus stepped forward, his voice commanding. “Y/N.”

You turned slowly, a sly smirk spreading across your face. “Oh, no, no, no, handsome,” you purred, your tone dripping with mockery. “I’m not Y/N. I’m Katherine.”

Klaus raised an eyebrow, unimpressed. “Do you take us for fools? We can tell the difference between you and your mother.”

Before you could respond, another figure emerged from the shadows. Katherine herself. She sauntered over, her smile identical to yours, her eyes gleaming with mischief. “No, my sweet daughter,” she said, her voice laced with sarcasm, “I am Katherine. Oh wait… no, I’m Y/N.”

The two of you burst into laughter, your voices blending into a perfect harmony that only added to the Mikaelsons’ confusion.

Kol folded his arms, leaning casually against the nearest surface. “Well, this is entertaining,” he drawled. “A game of Who’s Who. Tell me, ladies, how long do you plan to keep this up?”

You exchanged a glance with Katherine, your smirks widening. “As long as it takes for you to guess,” you said in unison, your voices perfectly synchronized.

Elijah’s patience was already wearing thin. “Enough of this,” he said firmly, his eyes narrowing. “We’re not here for your games. Y/N, we need to talk.”

Katherine placed a hand dramatically over her chest. “Oh, Elijah,” she said, feigning shock. “You’re breaking my heart. Can’t you tell it’s me, Katherina?”

You mimicked her gesture, your tone dripping with mock offense. “No, no, Elijah. It’s me, Y/N. Don’t you recognize your favorite human-turned-vampire-turned… well, whatever I am now?”

Klaus’s temper flared. “We don’t have time for this nonsense!” he snapped. “Enough with the charade. Y/N, since you have your humidity off, you just have made a grave mistake. And as for you, Katherine—”

But Katherine cut him off, stepping closer to Klaus with a playful smile. “Oh, Niklaus, you always did take everything so seriously. Relax. Enjoy the show. It’s not every day you get to see a mother-daughter duo working together, is it?”

You tilted your head, meeting Klaus’s glare with your own defiance. “What’s the matter, Klaus? Feeling a little out of control? You’re used to everyone bowing to your whims, aren’t you?”

Kol laughed, thoroughly enjoying the chaos. “I have to admit,” he said, his grin widening, “I quite like this side of Y/N. Spunky, unpredictable. Very… Katherine-like.”

Katherine clapped her hands together, beaming. “Finally, someone with good taste. Thank you, Kol.”

Elijah stepped forward, his tone sharp. “This isn’t a game, Y/N. You’re playing with fire, aligning yourself with Katherine. You’re better than this.”

You rolled your eyes, your smile fading for a brief moment. “Am I? Because right now, it feels pretty damn liberating to not care. Maybe Katherine had the right idea all along.”

Katherine smirked, throwing an arm around your shoulders. “See? She gets it.”

But before anyone could respond, you both started walking toward the exit, leaving the Mikaelsons standing there, visibly frustrated.

As you disappeared into the night with Katherine, Kol chuckled softly. “Well, that was fun.”

Elijah sighed, rubbing his temples. “Fun isn’t exactly the word I would use.”

Klaus clenched his fists, his expression dark. “We’ll get through to her. One way or another.”

Elena stormed into the Salvatore boarding house, her face pale and frantic, but her words were met with silence. Damon and Stefan were sitting in the living room, Damon swirling a glass of bourbon while Stefan stared out the window, lost in thought. Neither of them looked at her when she entered.

“Really?” Elena snapped, throwing her hands in the air. “You’re both still ignoring me? I get that you’re mad at me for not telling you about the kiss with Elijah, but right now, I don’t care! I’ve been calling you all day, and neither of you is answering!”

Damon glanced at her briefly, raising an eyebrow, but then went back to his drink without saying a word. Stefan didn’t even acknowledge her.

“Fine,” Elena said, her voice shaking with frustration. “Be mad at me all you want. But if you actually care about Y/N, you’ll stop sulking and listen to me!”

At the mention of your name, Stefan’s head turned slightly, though he didn’t fully face her. Damon’s grip on his glass tightened, his jaw clenching.

Elena stepped closer, her tone softening. “I can’t find her. She’s not answering my calls, and she hasn’t since I told her about Jeremy.” Her voice cracked, tears welling up in her eyes. “She was devastated, and now she’s just… gone. I don’t know where she is.”

Damon’s head shot up at that, his cocky demeanor replaced with worry. “What do you mean, gone?”

“I mean, she’s disappeared!” Elena cried, her desperation spilling over. “She walked out of here after you two didn’t stop her, and now I can’t find her! She’s not at her usual spots. She’s not with Bonnie or Caroline. and you know that’s not like her.”

Stefan finally turned to face her, his brows furrowed in concern. “You think something happened to her?”

“I don’t know!” Elena admitted, her voice breaking. “But I told her that Jeremy died, I thought maybe she’d call me back, maybe she’d yell at me for not telling her sooner. But nothing. It’s like she’s completely shut down.”

Damon stood up abruptly, his glass clinking against the table as he set it down. “She wouldn’t just disappear. Not without a reason.”

“And what if the reason is us?” Stefan said quietly, guilt evident in his tone.

Elena shook her head. “No, it’s not you. It’s Jeremy. She’s grieving, and she’s doing it alone because none of us were there for her. I should’ve been there. You two should’ve been there. But instead, we’ve been wrapped up in our own drama while she’s been falling apart!”

Damon cursed under his breath, grabbing his jacket. “Well, sitting here isn’t going to fix anything. Let’s split up and find her.”

Stefan nodded, already heading toward the door. “We’ll check the usual places again, and then we’ll expand the search.”

Elena followed them, her heart heavy. “Please, if you find her, just… tell her I’m sorry. Tell her we’re all sorry.”

Damon glanced back at her, his expression softening for a moment. “We’ll find her, Elena. And when we do, we’ll make this right. Somehow.”

With that, the three of them headed out, each of them silently praying they weren’t already too late.

Damon and Stefan had been searching tirelessly for you all night, and when they finally caught your scent leading to an abandoned mansion on the outskirts of town, they didn’t hesitate. The moonlight barely lit the crumbling structure, but they moved with purpose, their hearts heavy with the weight of guilt and determination.

They found you in the main hall, lounging in an old armchair with a glass of red wine or was it blood? in your hand. The flickering candlelight cast a mischievous glow on your face. Your mother, Katherine, was seated elegantly on the arm of your chair, her smirk a mirror of your own.

“Well, look who finally decided to show up,” you said, your tone dripping with mockery. “My knights in tarnished armor.”

Katherine chuckled, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. “Oh, darling, don’t be too hard on them. They probably got lost chasing their tails.”

Damon rolled his eyes, stepping forward. “Really, Y/N? This is what you’ve been doing? Playing house with Mommy Dearest?”

You raised your glass in a mock toast. “Why not? She’s a lot more fun than you two. No lectures, no guilt trips, just pure, unfiltered freedom.”

Stefan’s jaw tightened, his eyes pleading as he spoke. “Y/N, this isn’t you. Turning off your humanity doesn’t make you free it traps you.”

“Oh, spare me the lecture, Saint Stefan,” you replied, standing up. “You and Damon think you know me so well, but guess what? I’m not your precious little Y/N anymore. I’m Katherine 2.0.”

Damon let out a dry laugh. “Katherine 2.0? Please, you’re barely a beta version. At least Katherine had an original act.”

Katherine gasped in mock offense. “Rude, Damon. And here I thought you liked my original act. You know, back when you were my little puppy.”

Damon shot her a glare. “Let’s not rehash ancient history, Katherine. We’re here for Y/N, not for your stroll down memory lane.”

You tilted your head, your smirk widening. “Oh, but Damon, you’re forgetting the most important part: I’m the one who decides where I go, not you.”

Stefan stepped closer, his voice softening. “Y/N, I know you’re hurting. I know turning off your humanity feels like the only way to escape the pain, but you don’t have to do this. We can help you.”

You rolled your eyes, stepping toward him until you were inches away. “Help me? Like you ‘helped’ me by hiding everything? Like you ‘helped’ me by not being there when Jeremy died? No thanks, Stefan. I’ve got all the help I need right here.” You gestured to Katherine, who gave an exaggerated wave.

Damon crossed his arms, his expression shifting from frustration to a sly grin. “You know, Stefan, I think she’s right. She really is just like Katherine.”

Katherine raised an eyebrow. “Excuse me?”

“Yeah,” Damon continued, his grin widening. “She’s got the whole drama queen act down, the condescending smirk, the superiority complex. it’s uncanny. It’s like you cloned yourself, Katherine. Bravo.”

You narrowed your eyes at him, but before you could retort, Stefan chimed in, playing along. “You’re right, Damon. But there’s one thing missing.”

“Oh?” Katherine said, crossing her arms. “And what’s that?”

Stefan smirked. “The charm. Y/N’s got her own charm. She’s not you, Katherine, and she never will be.”

Katherine scoffed, but you could see the flicker of annoyance in her eyes. You stepped between them, glaring at both brothers. “Nice try, boys. You think you can just waltz in here, throw some clever insults, and fix everything? Not happening.”

Damon’s grin softened into something more genuine. “We’re not trying to fix you, Y/N. We’re just trying to remind you of who you really are. The girl who would never turn her back on her friends. The girl who cared, no matter how hard it got.”

Stefan nodded, his voice steady. “We’re not giving up on you. No matter how long it takes, we’re staying right here.”

You hesitated, their words cutting through the walls you’d built around yourself. Katherine placed a hand on your shoulder, her grip firm. “Don’t let them get to you, sweetheart. You’re better off without them.”

But for the first time since turning off your humanity, doubt flickered in your eyes. You pushed it down, plastering on your smirk again. “Nice speech, boys. But I’m still not coming home.”

You turned on your heel, Katherine following you as Damon and Stefan exchanged a look. They weren’t giving up. not yet. They’d find a way to bring you back, even if it meant facing every wall you put up along the way.

The tension in the room was suffocating as the Salvatores and the Mikaelsons stood in a rare alliance, strategizing their next move. It was a surreal sight. two rival factions united with one goal: to bring you back. Damon leaned against the fireplace, his arms crossed, while Stefan sat in deep thought. Klaus, Kol, and Elijah loomed nearby, their expressions varying between irritation and determination.

“This is ridiculous,” Klaus finally said, breaking the silence. “If we want Y/N back, we need to cut off her anchor. Katherine. She’s the one feeding into this madness.”

Damon scoffed. “Trust me, Original, we’re not big fans of Katherine either. But Y/N’s loyalty to her is on a whole new level right now. She’s not going to just let us walk in and take Mommy Dearest.”

Kol smirked, clearly relishing the chaos. “Then we don’t walk in. We take her by force. Y/N’s dangerous, but she’s not invincible. If we get Katherine, we can use her to snap Y/N out of this delusion.”

Elijah’s voice was calm but firm. “We’ll do it carefully. No unnecessary harm to Y/N. She’s still under the influence of her mother’s manipulations. If we can remove Katherine from the equation, Y/N might begin to see clearly.”

Stefan nodded. “Agreed. Let’s move before they relocate again.”

The plan was set, and the group tracked Katherine and you to a secluded estate. Night had fallen, casting an eerie glow over the place. The Salvatores and Mikaelsons moved stealthily through the shadows, their combined power a formidable force.

Inside, you and Katherine were enjoying what seemed to be an evening of indulgence. Katherine was reclining on a luxurious sofa, sipping wine, while you stood by the window, gazing out at the moonlit landscape.

“It’s quiet tonight,” Katherine mused, swirling her glass. “Too quiet.”

Before you could respond, the doors burst open, and in stormed the Salvatores and Mikaelsons, their presence commanding the room. Katherine didn’t even flinch, a sly smile curling on her lips.

“Well, well,” she drawled. “The cavalry has arrived. Took you long enough.”

You turned, your gaze icy as you assessed the group. “What is this? Some kind of intervention?”

Stefan stepped forward, his voice gentle but resolute. “Y/N, this has to stop. We’re here to help you.”

Damon, as always, added his signature sarcasm. “Or at least stop you from turning the world into your personal vampire playground.”

Katherine laughed, clearly unimpressed. “Oh, please. Do you really think you can just waltz in here and take me? You’re outnumbered, and I dare say outmatched.”

That was when Klaus made his move. In a flash, he had Katherine pinned against the wall, his hand gripping her throat. “You’ve meddled enough, Katherine. Time to see how long you last without your daughter to hide behind.”

“Let her go!” your voice rang out, sharp and commanding.

Everyone turned to see you standing there, a stake in each hand, your expression deadly. The room fell silent as your words cut through the air. “Let my mother go, or I’ll give you something to scream in pain for.”

Klaus raised an eyebrow, amused despite the situation. “Is that a threat, love?”

You took a step forward, your voice dangerously calm. “No, it’s a promise.”

Elijah, ever the diplomat, raised a hand. “Y/N, this isn’t the way. We only wish to help you—”

“Help me?” you interrupted, laughing darkly. “The only thing any of you want is to control me. Newsflash: I don’t need saving, and I certainly don’t need any of you.”

Katherine smirked from her precarious position. “That’s my girl.”

Kol stepped forward, his playful demeanor gone. “Y/N, if you want to pick a fight, you’re outnumbered.”

You tilted your head, your smirk matching Katherine’s. “Outnumbered doesn’t mean outmatched. You want to see just how far I’ve fallen? Try me.”

The room bristled with tension, the factions standing on a knife’s edge. Stefan’s voice broke the silence, his tone filled with quiet desperation. “Y/N, please. We love you. Don’t let Katherine destroy the person you are.”

For a moment, something flickered in your eyes. hesitation, doubt. But you quickly pushed it aside, your smirk returning. “The person I was is gone. You can’t save someone who doesn’t want to be saved.”

With that, you took another step forward, daring anyone to challenge you. Damon and Stefan exchanged a glance, the heartbreak evident in their eyes. Elijah’s jaw tightened, while Klaus and Kol prepared for whatever came next.

But before anyone could act, Katherine spoke up, her voice cutting through the tension. “Enough. If you want me, come and get me. But be warned. Y/N won’t let you take me without a fight.”

The standoff continued, the room a powder keg ready to explode. It was clear that no one was leaving unscathed, and the battle for your soul had only just begun.

The sun hung high in the sky as you and Katherine strolled through the quiet streets of the small town. The two of you were practically mirror images, from your perfectly styled hair to the way you carried yourselves with effortless grace. Katherine had insisted on a girls’ day out, and while you were still reveling in your humanity-free lifestyle, you went along for the fun.

“Let’s grab a drink,” Katherine said with her signature smirk, gesturing to a cozy little bar tucked into the corner of the street.

You shrugged, your voice light but laced with mischief. “Why not? Let’s see if these humans can keep up with us.”

The two of you walked inside, your heels clicking against the wooden floor. The atmosphere was warm, the smell of whiskey and chatter filling the air. Katherine leaned against the bar, ordering two drinks with a wink to the bartender, who was clearly smitten.

But just as she handed you your glass, the door slammed open with a gust of wind. In the blink of an eye, you were yanked backward with an incredible force, slamming against the hard chest of Klaus Mikaelson. His iron grip held you in place, and his piercing blue eyes bored into yours with a mix of anger and desperation.

“You’re not going anywhere,” Klaus growled, his voice low and dangerous.

Behind him, Elijah and Kol stepped forward, their expressions a mix of tension and curiosity. A few paces behind them were Damon and Stefan, their eyes filled with heartbreak and frustration.

You smirked, the same dangerous glint in your eyes that Katherine often wore. “Oh, handsome,” you purred, tilting your head. “I’m not Y/N. I’m Katherine.”

Katherine chose that moment to step out from the shadows, her arms crossed and her smirk wide. “No, no, no, sweetheart,” she drawled. “I’m Katherine. You’re Y/N.”

Your smirk deepened as you adjusted your posture to mimic hers exactly. “No, darling, I’m you.”

Katherine raised an eyebrow, clearly enjoying the game. “Nice try, but everyone knows I’m the original queen of deception.” She took a step closer to Klaus, her smirk a carbon copy of yours. “Care to test me?”

The room fell silent, the two of you standing side by side in identical outfits, hair styled the same way, even wearing matching lipstick. both the Salvatores and the Mikaelsons looked between the two of you, utterly baffled.

Kol let out an exasperated sigh. “Oh, this is bloody fantastic. It’s like a vampire version of ‘Who’s Who.’”

Damon’s jaw tightened as he glared at both of you. “Enough games. Y/N, if you’re in there, cut the crap.”

You chuckled darkly, stepping closer to him with a mocking smile. “Oh, Damon, always so serious. That’s why I prefer Klaus.”

Klaus’s grip on your arm tightened slightly, and he gave you a warning look. “Don’t test my patience, love.”

Meanwhile, Katherine took a step closer to Elijah, placing a hand on his chest. “Elijah, surely you can tell the difference between me and my daughter.”

Elijah’s jaw tightened as he looked between you and Katherine, his normally composed demeanor faltering for the briefest moment. “Both of you stop this nonsense. Y/N, if you’re in there, you need to remember who you are.”

Katherine rolled her eyes, clearly unimpressed. “Oh, come on, Elijah. You’re supposed to be the smart one.”

Stefan, ever the voice of reason, stepped forward cautiously. “Y/N, if you’re really there, think about Jeremy. Think about Elena. They need you.”

You froze for the briefest moment, but then your smirk returned, sharp as a knife. “Jeremy’s gone. Elena will survive without me. I’m finally free, Stefan. No more guilt, no more pain.”

Katherine let out a triumphant laugh, throwing her arm around your shoulder. “See? She’s finally starting to see things my way. You should all be proud of her.”

The boys exchanged glances, their frustration mounting. Kol broke the tension with a sarcastic clap. “Brilliant. Absolutely brilliant. We’ve officially lost the plot.”

Klaus, however, wasn’t ready to give up. He leaned in closer to you, his voice a low whisper meant only for you to hear. “If there’s even a shred of you left in there, fight this. You’re not Katherine, no matter how much you want to be.”

For a split second, your eyes softened, a flicker of something genuine breaking through the icy exterior. But it was gone as quickly as it came. You pulled away from him, your laughter filling the room.

“Nice try, Klaus,” you said, tossing your hair over your shoulder. “But I’ve made my choice. And it’s not you, not Damon, not Stefan. It’s me. Just me.”

Katherine grinned, clearly proud of you. “That’s my girl.”

As you and Katherine walked out of the bar, leaving the stunned and helpless group behind, a chilling silence settled over the room. The war for your soul wasn’t over, but it was clear bringing you back would be harder than anyone imagined.

The Salvatores sat in the dimly lit living room of the boarding house, the weight of the recent events pressing down on them like an unrelenting storm. Damon leaned against the mantle, a tumbler of bourbon in hand, while Stefan sat slouched on the couch, his head in his hands. Both brothers wore the exhaustion of the past few days on their faces, their expressions tight with a mixture of pain and frustration.

Elena burst through the door, her face pale with worry. “Where is she? Did you find her?” she demanded, her voice shaking. “Tell me you found Y/N and she’s okay.”

Stefan looked up at her, his expression hollow. “We found her,” he said softly. “But she’s far from okay, Elena.”

Elena froze, her heart sinking. “What do you mean? What happened?”

Damon downed the rest of his bourbon in one quick gulp before slamming the glass down on the mantle. His voice was sharp, almost bitter. “Your sister has officially gone full Katherine 2.0. She’s turned off her humanity, Elena.”

Elena staggered back as though she had been physically struck. “What? No… no, she wouldn’t do that. She…she wouldn’t.”

Stefan shook his head, his voice breaking. “She did. And she’s not herself anymore. She’s cold, unfeeling. She doesn’t care about anything or anyone. We tried to get through to her, but it’s like she’s a completely different person.”

Elena’s legs gave out, and she sank into the armchair, her hands trembling. “Why didn’t you stop her? Why didn’t you stop her before it got this far?”

Damon let out a hollow laugh, pacing the room like a caged animal. “Do you think we didn’t try? She’s not just a regular vampire, Elena. She’s a hybrid, with magic she doesn’t even fully understand yet. She’s stronger than both of us combined. And on top of that, she’s got Katherine whispering in her ear, encouraging her every move.”

Elena’s eyes filled with tears. “This is my fault,” she whispered. “I told her about Jeremy. I…I thought she deserved to know, but I had no idea she would spiral like this. If I hadn’t told her—”

“Don’t do that,” Stefan interrupted gently but firmly. “Don’t blame yourself. Y/N’s pain was inevitable. We all loved Jeremy, but she… she loved him in a way that shattered her. She lost him, and she felt like she had nothing left to hold onto. Katherine just swooped in at the right moment to take advantage.”

Damon turned to face Elena, his usually confident demeanor replaced by raw vulnerability. “She hates us, Elena. She blames us for not letting her die when she was turned, for not giving her a choice. And now she’s punishing us for it. She’s not Y/N anymore. She’s… something else.”

Elena buried her face in her hands, her shoulders shaking with silent sobs. “She’s my sister,” she choked out. “I can’t lose her. Not after losing Jeremy. I can’t lose her too.”

Stefan crossed the room and knelt in front of her, his hands resting on her knees. “We’re not giving up on her, Elena. She’s still in there somewhere. We just have to find a way to bring her back. But it’s going to be hard. She’s not making it easy.”

Damon scoffed, though the pain in his eyes betrayed his attempt at indifference. “Hard is an understatement. She’s playing games with everyone. us, the Mikaelsons, even herself. She’s spiraling, Elena, and if we don’t stop her, she’s going to cross a line she can’t come back from.”

Elena wiped her tears, her jaw tightening with determination. “Then we stop her. Whatever it takes. I don’t care how long it takes or how hard it is. we get her back. We save her.”

Damon and Stefan exchanged a glance, a silent agreement passing between them. They had already made that vow to themselves, but hearing it from Elena solidified their resolve.

“Whatever it takes,” Stefan echoed softly.

Damon sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Then let’s hope we’re not too late, because if Y/N keeps going down this road… we might not recognize her when we find her.”

The night was heavy with tension as you and Katherine, both dressed to perfection and armed with devious smirks, stepped out of the car. The Mikaelson mansion loomed ahead, its grandeur accentuated by the moonlight.

Katherine turned to you, adjusting a strand of your hair like a doting mother. “Remember, darling,” she said with mock sweetness, “it’s all about confidence. Channel me. After all, you’re me tonight.”

You rolled your eyes but smirked. “And you’re me. Just try not to ruin my reputation more than you already have, Mother.”

Katherine laughed, a sound that sent chills down spines. “Oh, sweetheart, ruining reputations is what I do best.”

With synchronized steps, you entered the Mikaelson mansion. The brothers were scattered in the grand living room. Klaus lounged in an armchair, his glass of bourbon untouched, while Kol leaned against the fireplace, tossing a coin in the air. Elijah, ever the composed one, stood by the window, lost in thought.

“Ah, Katherine,” Klaus drawled, his piercing gaze locking onto you. “To what do we owe the pleasure?”

You cocked your head, channeling your inner Katherine. “Oh, don’t look so sour, Klaus. Can’t a girl visit her favorite originals without it being a crime?”

Kol snorted. “Funny. Your ‘visits’ usually come with strings attached.”

Elijah turned, his sharp eyes narrowing as they scanned you. Something in his gaze lingered, a flicker of doubt. “You seem… different,” he noted, stepping closer.

You kept your smirk intact, despite your heart pounding. “Different? Maybe I’ve just missed you, Elijah.”

As he studied you, Katherine, disguised as you, sauntered in, mimicking your softer demeanor. “Elijah, Klaus, Kol,” she greeted, her tone almost shy. “I hope I’m not interrupting.”

Kol’s coin dropped. Klaus sat up straighter, his suspicion palpable. “And who, exactly, are you supposed to be?” he asked sharply.

Katherine-as-you widened her eyes, feigning innocence. “What do you mean? It’s me, Y/N.”

Klaus’s gaze darted between you and Katherine. His jaw tightened as realization dawned. “A game,” he hissed, rising to his feet. “You’re playing games.”

Kol, ever the mischief-maker, looked amused. “Well, this just got interesting.”

Elijah stepped forward, his composure fraying. “Enough,” he said coldly, his eyes locking onto yours. “Who are you?”

You let out a slow laugh, dropping the act. “Oh, Elijah, you always were the perceptive one. It’s me. Katherine. Did you really think Y/N could pull off my charm?”

Katherine dropped her mask as well, her smirk widening. “And did you honestly think I’d let my daughter have all the fun? I just had to see your faces when you couldn’t tell us apart.”

Klaus growled low in his throat, his temper flaring. “Get out, both of you. Now.”

But Katherine only laughed, grabbing your arm. “Come along, darling. Let’s leave the boys to their sulking.”

As you turned to leave, you couldn’t resist looking back at Elijah. His gaze burned with a mixture of anger and… something softer. You held it for a moment longer than necessary, then smirked, walking out with Katherine.

Hours later, you and Katherine pulled the same stunt at the Salvatore boarding house. The brothers were sitting in the living room when you entered, Katherine striding in first, playing your part.

“Stefan, Damon,” she greeted warmly, her tone sweet. “I just wanted to check in.”

Damon raised an eyebrow, suspicious but intrigued. “You’re being awfully polite, Y/N. What’s the catch?”

You followed a moment later, wearing Katherine’s signature smirk. “The catch, Damon,” you purred, “is that you have no idea who you’re dealing with.”

Stefan stood abruptly, his eyes narrowing. “Katherine.”

Damon groaned, running a hand down his face. “Of course. Should’ve known.”

Katherine laughed, dropping her facade. “Oh, come on, boys. Don’t act so surprised. You know me. always up for a little fun.”

Stefan’s gaze shifted to you. “And you’re…?”

You tilted your head, biting back a laugh. “Y/N. Or am I? You tell me.”

Damon rolled his eyes. “Great. Double trouble. Just what we needed.”

The brothers exchanged a look, their frustration evident. But before they could act, Katherine grabbed your hand. “We’ve had our fun, darling. Let’s leave these poor men to their misery.”

As you walked out, you caught Damon muttering to Stefan, “She had it to be Katherine’s daughter.”

You and Katherine burst out laughing as you disappeared into the night, leaving chaos and confusion in your wake.

[blitz0hno]

Let's be real. Realistically, every time we see Mikoto it might as well be a different alter.

Does that make for an easy-to-follow narrative? No. Is it what the authors intended? Not likely, but also this is a game all based around perception and life experiences.

"Mikoto" and "John" as we know them are functionally made up by the audience (and thus Es) for narrative flow. Just like how ppl w DID irl are generally assumed to be "themselves," as in their body's name/main identity. Whether you're singlet or plural, the "you" in someone else's mind is a tiny piece even to your closest people. They see you through a special lens all their own, and these interpretations reveal more about the viewer than anything (not that that is a "bad" thing; it just is). Every individual consciousness is a different lens. You really can't know shit about any system unless you ask within the system, even w alters in your own brain. Mikoto hasn't had enough time to process his different parts yet, so it's wholly ambiguous.

Oblivious as we are, we've noticed a bit of friction surrounding how people view Kayanosys and tbh it makes us kinda sad; but the subject matter is touchy, so it's understandable. In my humble opinion, while they give us many clues as to "who's who," it's all still purely hypothetical. And it's fun to guess and theorize and even make shit up! You wouldn't do it to a real system but Milgram is not real; all respectful interpretations of 09 are valid in my book.

Personally I like the idea that he has more alters than just who we see, and I like interpretations of Mikoto/John/Kataboku as their own people. I also like completely ambiguous interpretations, and everything in-between bc if we wanna be Really Realistic, there's no end to the possibilities whatsoever, especially with as little info as we have so far.

This makes writing him So Difficult for me, but it only adds all the more layers to why I love these characters so much. I am so so sick of being a system sometimes, but it's a complex worldview that few experience and even fewer fully grasp. Plurality deserves to be talked about openly and with patience, and I couldn't be happier that Milgram even dares talk about them to such a large audience.

The reasons to talk about these things, after all, won't go away even if we do stop talking about them. I'm not gonna say "it all happens for a reason," but we certainly have words to describe such experiences for many reasons. I feel like we all need to stop being afraid of not fully understanding things. I certainly don't understand a lot, but I understand a small handful of things that many do not. Sharing helps us understand more, even if we miss the mark sometimes.

Idk. I love Mikoto and I love our little mikotoverse on tumblr dot com, that is all.

[meret118]

"When I open my Bible, I don’t see any verses about abortion, but I see more than 2000 verses about economic justice. I don’t see any verses about gay marriage, but I see hundreds of verses about welcoming the stranger and feeding the hungry and healing the sick and freeing the oppressed.”

The biblical truth of that message notwithstanding, groups like Evangelicals for Harris know that it’s not one that the bulk of conservative Christians will be able to hear. But in the context of this election, they are not trying to save the conservative church from itself; they are trying to elect Kamala Harris. “When people hear about what we do, they think that we are in the persuasion business, that we’re going around trying to argue Trumpers into a different political opinion,” says Ryerse. “That’s a misunderstanding of what we’re trying to do.”

Instead, the group recognizes that there have been “inflection points” — kids in cages, maybe, or Jan. 6, or Trump’s felony conviction, or former Vice President Mike Pence’s disavowal — that have caused Christians who have always voted Republican to “begin to undergo some kind of political identity crisis,” as Ryerse puts it. “What we’re trying to do is not persuade the 85 to 95 percent that are not flippable. What we’re trying to do is make it easy for the 5 to 15 percent that are already in the midst of that political identity crisis, to say, ‘Hey, you’re not alone. There’s an on-ramp for a different way of engaging.’”

. . .

For the conversations that aren’t lost causes, however, Pagitt treads far more lightly. He has come to understand the delicate psychology of a Trump voter who has lost or is in the process of losing the (political) faith. He knows that it can be a lonely and alienating experience, that people would often rather be wrong and in community than right and by themselves. He’s talked to people who’ve driven out of state to attend Vote Common Good’s rallies in secret because they own the local hardware store and don’t want to be driven out of business, or because they pastor a church and don’t want to alienate their parishioners in states so red that their votes won’t matter anyway. He understands the entrenchment that can happen when someone who thinks they’re doing the right thing is told by the larger culture that it’s horribly wrong, and he’s careful not to “beat up on Trump too much” for that very reason. “We know the social costs that people are paying and how they internally feel,” Pagitt says. “In their experience, they’re going from, ‘I was the hero when I did this behavior. Now I’m going to do the opposite behavior. How am I still the hero?’ You have to help people get there.”

Mainly, Vote Common Good does that by telling them that they are still heroes, that their heroism remains intact. “Part of our theory of change is that behavioral change happens before identity change,” explains Ryerse. “We’re not out here trying to make more Democrats. We’re trying to get people to behave differently, i.e., to vote differently. The permission structure is, ‘Listen, I’m not asking you to be a Democrat. I’m asking you not to vote for Donald Trump in this election.’ What it does is [say], you can preserve your identity and change your behavior.”

Once behavior changes, of course, there’s the possibility of changing identity as well.

----

Terrific article! I hate what conservatives have done to my faith. We're not all like that!

I'm so glad I happened to see this. It really lifted my spirits.

Use this site if you want to read it.

[dazii-kons]

reverse dc au but its not robins

You read that right! Let me introduce you to the most random, nonsensical swap AU,Despite the title, the Robins are in it, but they aren't the main focus.

.....Well, I guess Damian is a pretty big part of it, BUT here he was never a Robin, so I stand by my point.

Shadow Damian and Hopeflare Jon, partners in "crime" since they were Veil and Superboy, are on a mission to take down the last CADMUS base that’s left. Surprisingly, it actually is the only existing one (sorry, Match fans—he's not going to show up for a loooooong while).

They arrive to find a bloody mess and a broken environment. There’s no heartbeat, no sound of breathing, nothing any living person would make...except the sound of dripping blood.

Checking all the rooms, Damian finds the one where all the bodies seemed to have been escaping from, and inside, he finds... a mini version of his best friend???except he has curly hair styled in an undercut,his skin is tan and he's wearing a bloody hospital gown.

Thus comes Subject 13, aka Project Cm.Kh/S>sb(a metaphor for a CADMUS-made Kryptonian hybrid of Superman’s son beta), a clone of well ,Superman’s son made with the DNA of Hopeflare, Lex Luthor (who has a bit of techno-meta DNA from his mother), and an unknown human donor (Lois Lane), whose aging process has been stopped by an explosion. He’s stuck in the body of an 11-year-old, a skinny and fragile little boy with knowledge many historians could never dream of. And as a bonus, he comes with a stack of new, unknown powers—so fun!

Short story long, he gets out very quickly with no trouble,as if he wasnt fighting two jl leveled heros and uses the weird pink telekinesis like power (ttk) to make the building collapse. Oh, and also, he hates Jon and somehow knows Shadow's secret identity by just looking at him-not even his face ,that's masked, so it would still be weird, but not as much—but at his chest, more specifically the dark little “s” crossed by an “h” (which is Shadow's symbol).

The mini Jon, as they decided to call him, vanishes from existence for almost six months, making Damian almost convince his partner to stop looking because he’s ruining himself.

In this time, Kon—still choosing a last name—is having the nicest time of his life in the house of Tim Drake-Wayne (age 11) and two of his friends: Stephanie Brown (age 17) and Bernard Dowd (age 10).

Stephanie was kicked out for her addiction by her hero father. Still struggling with it, she was in a situationship with a villain whose name is unknown, but she has moved on from that, Currently, she is two months pregnant, and after a long talk with Tim (who's shockingly smart for a kid), she decided to keep the baby because, screw it, she /Tim/ has the money and enough time to give them a good life. She moved in with Tim because his parents wouldn’t notice anyway, considering they let an 11-year-old have an apartment and live alone. (Jack and Janet are neglectful, but they do love Tim and aren’t fanon.)

Bernard, who was found by Stephanie beaten to a bloody pulp and about to be sacrificed to some vultures, was practically forced to come live with them after Stephanie had one conversation with his parents and her 'soon-to-be-mom''fuck you bitch'' instincts kicked in.

They decided on the name Kon purely because Tim found footage of OG Superman calling that his cousin, Supergirl. That, and since it was the only Kryptonian word that sounded somewhat decent that was found in media, they went with it.

Tim is the protégé of Batman, the second Veil, and rarely goes out on missions since the big bat thinks he’s too young (as if Damian wasn’t 7 when he became Veil),But he still does, sometimes Catwoman and her own kitten, stray, join him

Stephanie is Lilac Arrow (currently looking for a new name, feeling like it’s too close to her father's, and she doesn’t admit it to him—not anymore) and is an ex-Speedy, an active vigilante since she plans to take a longer break of six months until the baby is at least two.

So Kon is finding himself with his friends, learning how to be a person with rights and a life to live.

The whole fic is just consumed by these three being besties as they get older, maybe with a sprinkle of TimBert childhood sweethearts, nonbinary Kon, Stephanie getting to raise her son, and Jon going batshitt about finding his little something that’s for sure related to him while Damian is just done.

Flaline is also there as Damian's emotional support, promising to kick Jon’s ass to take care of himself when he can’t. i prob make more of this au with other characters or of this exact scenario but idk,tell me what you think

[just-another-josh]

Money

Samantha Danvers was working in her office at the Lena Luthor Foundation when the company’s namesake abruptly stormed in.

“Alright, talk.”

Sam, clearly unfazed, didn’t bother looking up from her laptop. “Hello to you too.”

Lena huffed and rolled her eyes. “Hello, Sam,” she said impatiently.

“To what do I owe the pleasure?” Sam tapped a few keys, her eyes still fixed on the screen.

Lena stood rigidly with her thumbs in her suit-pant pockets, fingers beating an annoyed rhythm. “I want to know about the bet.”

Sam paused her typing; her jaw set tightly as she forced herself not to look at her boss. “What bet are you referring to?”

Lena scoffed, “Oh please, Samantha. Don’t insult my intelligence.”

Sam huffed out a defeated breath and turned to face Lena. “What did you hear?”

Lena stepped closer and placed her hands on Sam’s desk. “Since you, Kara, J’onn, and M’gann were off doing the hero thing last night, Alex, Nia, Brainy, and I went to Al’s. Halfway through the evening, Nia was updating us on the status of their house hunting and complaining about the home prices being exponentially higher the closer they got to the city. Brainy then made a very off-hand comment along the lines of ‘…if only we had won the wager…’, but before he could finish, Nia elbowed him in the ribs while your wife kicked him under the table. The rest of the night, they changed the subject anytime I brought it up.” Lena leaned in and eyed Sam with a laser-sharp gaze. “So, tell me, what were all of you wagering on and what does it have to do with me and Kara?”

Sam took on a mock-offended posture, an indignant huff pushing out of her nose. “Awfully presumptive. What makes you think…and this is not an admission…that the bet was about you and Kara?”

“Process of elimination,” Lena said, feeling insulted. “C’mon, Sam. Did you forget I am first and foremost a scientist? I asked Kara when I got home last night if she knew anything, and she said she didn’t-”

“How do you know she’s not lying?” Sam interupted, trying her damndest to hide her grin.

Lena looked at Sam in disbelief. “Because secret identity aside, when it comes to me, my girlfriend is a shit liar.”

Sam nodded. “Point conceded. Continue.”

Lena flashed Sam a smug grin. “This morning, I ran into J’onn and M’gann at the DEO and asked them about it. They suddenly remembered they had to go grocery shopping and flew out of the balcony before I could get another word in.” Sam began nervously rubbing the back of her neck. “So, add J’onn and M’gann to you and the other three idiots, with Kara and I being the only two not in on it, it stands to reason that the bet has to do with us,” Lena finished arrogantly.

Sam’s face twisted into a look of indignation. “Hey! What makes you think I’m part of this…this…conspiracy?”

A look of complete bewilderment fell over Lena’s face. Resigned, she shook her head. “If your wife’s in on it, that guarantees you’re complicit.” Lena’s stare drilled into Sam for emphasis.

The CFO deflated and shook her head. “Coluan asshat. I should throw him into the sun.” Lena’s lips twisted into a cocky smile. Sam looked at her watch and saw that it was just past four o’clock. “Fuck it. It’s five o’clock somewhere,” Sam mumbled as she motioned towards the brown couch behind Lena. “Have a seat, I’ll get the drinks.”

Lena headed towards the couch, dropping her clutch on the coffee table and unbuttoning her coat. She had no sooner sat down before a tumbler filled with scotch was in her hand courtesy of Sam and her super-speed. Sam, taking a sip from her glass, had already settled on the other side.

Lena allowed her friend to indulge in a few sips silently before throwing an expectant look at her CFO. “Waiting.”

Sam took a long draw from her drink and rolled her neck, an audible crack resulted. She let out a long breath and sank further into the couch. “The bet had to do with when you and Kara were going to hook-up.”

“Hook-up, hook-up or start dating?”

“It wasn’t specified, but we all assumed since Kara is a complete Pollyanna, the two would run parallel to each other.” Sam took a drink to hide a knowing grin.

Lena chose to ignore Sam’s veiled implication that she was more morally flexible than her girlfriend, the look on her face instead remained banal. “What were the terms.”

Sam cleared her throat and shifted into executive mode. “The over/under was six months. No minimum buy-in and you could add additional money to the pot at any point, but you couldn’t change the time period you originally bet on. The pot would be split evenly amongst the winners. People were allowed to subtly try and influence the two of you but were not allowed to blatantly interfere.”

Lena tapped her finger on her chin. “Six months…when did the bet begin?” 

“At me and Alex’s wedding reception.”

Lena quickly did the math in her head; she and Kara had announced that they were a couple four months after the wedding. Lena hummed to herself but remained stone faced. “Whose idea was it?”

“Winn.” Sam said without hesitation, not feeling an ounce of remorse for throwing him under the proverbial bus. “Apparently, he watched you two have ‘an emotionally charged moment’ that convinced him your relationship was heading in the direction of more than platonic.”

“For god’s sake. We were crying and hugging. There was nothing remotely romantic about it,” Lena grumbled.

Sam raised her hands in mock surrender. “Hey, me and Alex were about to take off for Argo. I’m just quoting what he said.” Lena clenched her jaw but didn’t respond. “Whatever Winn saw encouraged him to make a beeline for Nia and Brainy and…well…the rest is history.”

Lena took a sip of her scotch before resting her elbow on the back of the couch, placing her head lightly on her fist. “So, what did the pot get up to?”

“Thirty-six grand,” Sam quietly said.

Lena abruptly sat up; her eyebrows comically raised. “Holy shit! How many people were in on this?”

Sam seemed to shrink into her seat. “A lot?” she said with a sheepish look on her face.

“Names, Samantha. I want names,” Lena ordered in a playful variation of her boardroom voice.

“Okay,” Sam grumbled in defeat. With a burst of super-speed, Sam was back on the couch with her laptop, furiously typing away.

Lena chuckled. “Of course they put you in charge of the bookkeeping.”

“Well, I am the only corporate accountant in our circle of friends…so…duh.” Sam shook her head in faux disgust. Lena remained silent while Sam tapped away at her keyboard, opting instead to take a few more sips of her drink. Before Lena had time to enjoy the satisfying burn, Sam indicated she was finished. “Ok, so, you already know about me, Alex, J’onn, M’gann, Brainy, Nia, Winn…there was Lois and Clark-”

“What?” Lena interrupted. “They don’t even like me.”

“Actually, Clark likes you a lot. He says Lois still has trust issues with you, but he suspects she has a bit of a gambling problem, so…”

Lena arched her eyebrow. “Good to know.”

Sam shrugged. “Eliza, Alura and Zor-El-”.

“Really? That seems very un-Kryptonian.” Lena interjected.

“Alex and I said the same thing when Eliza told us they were onboard, but I guess Alura jumped at the chance to throw in after Eliza broke it down for her during their weekly call.”

“Hold on, Eliza and Alura talk every week?” Lena said, a hint of trepidation in her voice.

“Yup,” Sam said with a pop. She smiled diabolically. “Good luck with that.”

Lena gave an imperceptible nod as she started fidgeting with her glass; distracted by the implications of a weekly discussion between Kara’s “moms”.

“Where was I?” Sam mumbled as she scanned for where she left off. “Ah, there we are. Jess, Cat Grant, Andre-”.

“That zrhykhig!” Lena blurted out. “That’s why she’s been throwing herself at me like a bitch in heat since the wedding.” Her anger continued to swell as pieces of the puzzle fell into place. “She took the over, didn’t she? Of course, she did. I don’t even know why I’m asking. I’m sure she thought the best way to keep me and Kara apart was to con me into fucking her.” Waves of violet energy began cascading over Lena’s hands. “Swear to Rao I’m going to find a spell that’ll undo the nose job she got for her sweet-sixteen.”

Sam looked up from her laptop nervously. “Whoa, slow down there, Elphaba. There’s no need to mutilate her face.” Sam fixed Lena with a disapproving glare that seemed to calm her down; the magic arcing over her hands dissipated. “To answer your question, yes, she took the over. Now, are you going to stop interrupting me so I can get through this list?”

“No, I’m not,” Lena said defiantly.

“Worth a shot,” Sam mumbled to herself. “Next, we have Barry and Iris West-Allen-” Sam shot a hand up to stop Lena before she interrupted. “Yes, I know you just met them a month ago at his birthday party. Just a heads up, the rest of this list is comprised of people you first met at said party, but please bear in mind they’ve all known Kara for years.”

Lena closed her mouth and mimicked zipping her lips shut.

“Thank you.” Sam nodded, momentarily relieved. “As I was saying, Barry and Iris, Ray and Nora Palmer, Sara and Ava Lance-”.

“Wait, Sara Lance?” Lena threw a knowing smile at her friend.

“Yes.”

“White Canary?”

“Yes.”

“Wasn’t she the one that…”

“Yes.”

“With Alex…”

“Yes.”

“The one you threatened to…”

“Yes! Can we please stop talking about the woman my wife had a one-night stand with?” 

Lena snorted several times as she tried to contain her laughter.

Sam, fuming, returned her attention to the list. “Cisco Ramon, Caitlin Snow, Mick Rory-”

“The big guy that sat in the corner, finished off two cases of beer, and spent the entire night grunting at everyone?” Lena asked with a puzzled look on her face.

“That’s the one.” Sam perked up. “And finally…Kate Kane.”

Sam swore she heard Lena growl. “The short-haired brunette that was all sauced up and kept getting handsy with Kara?”

“Yes. Most people just call her Kate…or Batwoman.” Sam could see a vein beginning to protrude from Lena’s forehead. “For the sake of context, she started flirting with Kara after placing her wager. I think she was pulling the same move as Andrea.” Sam reached across the couch and patted Lena’s knee reassuringly. “So, maybe don’t go all Jigsaw on her?” Sam appealed.

Lena’s posture softened, but she seemed to somehow look both perplexed and astonished at the same time. “I just don’t understand how all these people, that I’ve spent a grand total of less than two hours with, felt confident enough to wager on when Kara and I would get together.”

“Pretty simple, really. They spent more than five minutes in the same room with you two,” Sam plainly stated.

Lena leveled Sam with a look of utter confusion. “What is that supposed to mean?”

Sam’s mouth fell agape, absolutely stunned.  “Oh, honey. You two were the paragons of sexual tension. Anyone with eyes could see it plain as day. You should have seen all the confused looks I got from people when I told them you two weren’t dating.”

I light dusting of pink spread across Lena’s face, and she fondly smiled. “Paragons of sexual tension?” After a moment of consideration, she conceded, “Accurate.”

Sam let Lena stew in her embarrassment a few moments longer, taking great pleasure in watching her oldest friend squirm. Using her super-speed, she refilled their drinks, and, clearly out of patience, burst out, “So are you going to ask me, or what?” Lena titled her head questioningly. Sam sighed out of sheer frustration. “Don’t you want to know who won?!?”

Lena startled and nodded emphatically. “Yes, of course, yes. Please, tell me.”

“There were only three winners.  Eliza, Jess, and…me.” Sam smiled pompously while doing a celebratory jig.

Lena, looking completely unsurprised, grinned warmly. “Eliza…no shock there. That woman can read her daughters like an open book. Jess…well I guess you could say she had a front row seat from day one.” She paused as she reminisced. A tender smile spread across her face; she focused on Sam with a curious glint in her eyes. “So, how did you know?”

Sam, pretending to take offense, gasped. “Aside from years of watching you two longingly eye-fuck each other?”

Lena snorted into her glass as she tried to take a drink, inadvertently causing some of the liquid to splash on her face. A deep blush settled over her cheeks as she wiped at her now damp face. “Yes, aside from that,” she said through a coughing chuckle.

Sam’s grin at Lena’s antics was slowly replaced by a look of melancholy. She methodically swirled the contents of her tumbler, seemingly transfixed by it. “Honestly, everything came into focus while you two were fighting.” Lena abruptly stopped her efforts to dry her face, instead focusing on Sam with a forlorn look on her face. “That year you spent apart…I watched you both flounder; you were both just going through the motions…lost. Neither one of you was whole. As cliché as it sounds, you two really are stronger together; El Mayarah in the flesh.” Sam paused to take a drink. Lena’s eyes became glassy, a slight tremor in her hands barely visible. “When it happened, I remember thinking about everything you two had accomplished together: you sent the Daxamites packing, beat Reign and saved me, stopped Lex and Red Daughter from basically taking control of the country…and handled all the other little disasters in-between. When you two finally reconciled you were able to prevent Leviathan from taking over the world and then stopped Lex from killing two-thirds of the population on Earth; and that was before you two had had a chance to work through your shit.” Sam grew more passionate as she continued, “To this day, I firmly believe that if we would’ve beat your fuckhead brother before he trapped Kara in the Phantom Zone, you two would’ve been married by now.” Lena tilted her head and lightly shrugged, silently recognizing the possibility. “I felt the same way when we got her back from that hellhole, but then Nyxly was there and threw a wrench into everything; Lex rearing his ugly bald head again was just the cherry on top.”

Lena let out a frustrated sigh as she reflected on that tumultuous time in their lives. A modicum of tears rolled down her cheeks as her body reacted viscerally to the unpleasant memories.

“Shit, I’m sorry…I didn’t mean to upset you…I promise there is a point to this walk down nightmare lane,” Sam said as she reached across the couch and placed her hand over Lena’s to reassure her; Lena lightly patted the top of Sam’s hand in acknowledgement of the tender gesture. “What I’m trying to point out is that the reason you two didn’t get together after you reconciled was not by choice. It wasn’t about missed opportunities; it was the fact that you two never got a chance to breathe long enough to explore how you felt about each other. I knew with absolute certainty that once things died down, you two would end up getting that opportunity. So, when Nyxly and Lex fucked-off to the Phantom Zone, I had the utmost faith that you two would be swapping spit, and other bodily fluids, in very short order,” Sam flashed a brilliant, mischievous smile. “Hence, why I took the under.”

Lena grinned through her tears, and squeezing Sam’s hand she quietly said, “Thank you for never losing faith in me…in us.”

Sam scooped Lena into a tight hug, her chin rested over Lena’s shoulder. “Oh, sweetie. I love you and Kara so much. All I’ve ever wanted for you two is to be happy…well, together, and happy.”

They squeezed each other tighter, giggling into each other’s shoulders.

“I think we need to switch to a lighter topic,” Sam said through a choked-up laugh.

They broke up their hug, both futilely trying to save their mascara as they wiped the tears from their eyes.  “I totally agree. Did you have something in mind?” Lena managed to sniffle out.

“Actually, I do.” There was a hint of nervousness in Sam’s voice. Lena picked up on it and noticed that her friend was fidgeting with her hands.

Lena scoffed, “Oh, Christ. Now what?”

Sam anxiously cleared her throat. “Weeelll, there might be one more wager that hasn’t been settled yet.” Sam did her best to avoid looking at Lena, instead focusing on her suddenly very interesting hands.

Lena’s eyebrow rose ever-so-slightly. “This should be good,” she deadpanned.

“So, after it was confirmed you two were officially dating, a second bet was made on who made the first move,” Sam said hesitantly.

Lena was a picture of stoicism. “I see. And what’s the pot on this one?”

“Forty-five thousand.”

Lena’s eyebrows shot up. “For fuck’s sake, Sam. It’s been a week since we told everyone!”

Sam embarrassedly smiled. “Yeah, a lot of people are trying to recoup their losses.”

“I feel like there’s a teachable moment regarding the evils of gambling somewhere in there, but…,” Lena drifted off, clearly indifferent to their plight.  She leveled an inquisitive look at Sam. “So, Mrs. Danvers, which pony did you back?”

Sam slammed back the remainder of her drink and placed the empty tumbler on the coffee table. She timidly met Lena’s eyes and weakly smiled. “Kara.”

Lena’s brows furrowed at Sam’s admission. She let her CFO suffer through a dramatically awkward silence before responding, “Et tu, Brute?”

Sam shrugged. “Lena, I mean this with all due respect, but you are the very definition of ‘useless lesbian’.”

“Useless bisexual,” Lena quickly corrected.

“Oh, please. Jack and James were total beards!” Sam cackled.

Lena’s eyes narrowed as she glared at Sam in reproach. “No comment,” she said sternly.

Sam was now laughing so hard her side hurt. Lena took a heavy swallow of her drink and regarded her friend with an icy stare.

Her impatience building, Lena opted to change the subject. “Speaking of James, I noticed he wasn’t on the list of participants.”

Sam took a minute to regain her composure and even out her breathing. “He felt it would be inappropriate to wager on when his ‘ex-girlfriends’ would hook-up.”

“What does he mean, ‘ex-girlfriends’? Kara never even went on a date with him. They kissed twice…the first time he was being controlled by Myriad.” Lena was clearly appalled.

A look of shock climbed across Sam’s face. “Shut the fuck up! I never knew that…oh my god, Alex doesn’t even know about that!”

“I can’t believe I slept with that narcissistic prick.” Lena snorted angrily at the memory.

Sam loudly clapped her hands, breaking Lena’s reverie. “Well, I’m glad we could clear that up. Now, fess up. Who jumped first?”

Lena remained silent and studied Sam for a moment, the CFO was practically bouncing in her seat in anticipation. After what seemed like an eternity (to Sam at least), Lena slammed back the remainder of her scotch and set the empty tumbler on the coffee table. A devious grin on her lips, Lena stood and began fastening the buttons on her jacket. “Thank you for the drink and for the conversation. It was rather stimulating.” Lena retrieved her discarded clutch from the table and moved to exit Sam’s office.

Sam quickly realized that Lena was going to leave her hanging and sprung to her feet. “Oh, hell no! You’re not flaking out on me now, Luthor!”

Lena didn’t slow her pace. “I’ll see you at Game Night on Friday. Don’t forget, you and Alex are on snack duty this week.”

Sam used her super-speed to position herself between Lena and her office door. “Please, Lena! Just tell me. Alex bet on you, so it doesn’t matter who made the first move, I win either way,” Sam grabbed Lena by the arms. “C’mon Lena, Alex and I could use the money to do that add-on to the house and take the trip to Aruba we’ve been talking about for years.”

“Oh please, you just got back from honeymooning on Argo.”

“Yeah, but that was four months ago…and Argo doesn’t have crystal blue waters…and sandy beaches…and clear, sunny skies…and…and drinks with little umbrellas in them…” Sam was pleading, well, more begging at this point.

Lena gave Sam a piteous smile, cupped Sam’s cheek, leaned in, and placed a chaste kiss on her cheek. “Love you, sweetie.” She separated from Sam’s grip and exited through the office door. Sam helplessly watched as Lena disappeared behind the shutting door.

“Fuck!” she bellowed into the empty office. Sam rushed over to her desk and retrieved her phone, quickly bringing up her wife’s contact.

MyBrownEyedGirl: The jig is up! Boss Lady was just here. She knows everything!

BigRed: Fuck! I knew Brainy shit the bed last night. What did you tell her?

MyBrownEyedGirl: EVERYTHING!!!

BigRed: Oh.

BigRed: Wow.

BigRed: How’d she handle it?

MyBrownEyedGirl: Typical Lena.

BigRed: Shocker.

BigRed: Did you ask about the other thing?

MyBrownEyedGirl: YUP

BigRed: AND???

MyBrownEyedGirl: Typical Luthor.

BigRed: Again, shocker. Plan B: I’ll load Kara up on potstickers, ice cream, and Aldebaran Rum. I guarantee she’ll talk when I’m done with her.

BigRed: Don’t worry, baby. We’re getting that new rec room AND our trip.

MyBrownEyedGirl: Have I ever told you how sexy you are when you throw around all that Big Dick Energy?

BigRed: Yes, but you can remind me again tonight.

MyBrownEyedGirl: With pleasure. Rubes is staying at her friend’s house tonight. I’ll get out the big strap.

BigRed: Fuck, I love you!!!!

MyBrownEyedGirl: Love you too, red.

MyBrownEyedGirl: Oh, one more thing. I need a favor from you.

BigRed: Name it.

MyBrownEyedGirl: Please remind me to call Nia and tell her she needs to find a new baby-daddy, because I’m going to throw Brainy’s dumb-ass into the sun!!!

[multi-fandomdisaster]

What are your headcanons for the time bastard himself, Ted Spankoffski? (Besides him having ADHD)

To start, here's a list I've previously made about my favorite bastard -> right here!

(And here's the ADHD Ted post in case anyone wants to read that -> here!)

And here's some new ones for you!

I know I mention his sexuality in the previous list, but to be more specific (and you might know this if you've read some of my previous insane ramblings about Ted), I headcanon him as aromantic pansexual and polyamorous

I love the idea of this man being all over sex but as soon as someone tries to be all romantic around him he just straight up wants to leave because it makes him incredibly uncomfortable.

Talks and mutters to himself a lot

Very self-conscious. He tries to pretend like he doesn't care about what others think of him, but in reality he's hyper aware of it and the sleazeball reputation he's built for himself and deep down, it hurts. Will he ever change, though? No. This is who he is now. This is who he will forever be. He's accepted that. He doesn't plan on changing, because if he did, he'd have to go through the process of trying to create an identity for himself all over again. At least, that's what he tells himself

Bill is the only person who can make this man to admit he has any kind of problem going on in his life, and even then he has to deploy the Dad Stare™️ to get him do it. Ted by default is as stubborn as a mule and doesn't like others helping him because it hurts his ego

It's a running gag in the office that you can summon Ted by saying his name three times in the same conversation. The funniest part is that it does actually seem to work to a point, and he usually shows up to interject with his own thoughts if mentioned

Peter is the only person allowed to call him "Teddy" and the only reason why is because he called him Teddy when he was just a little kid growing up

On that note, he HATES being called Theodore

And "Mr. Spankoffski" for that matter. In his words, "Don't say that; you're gonna make me feel old." Any time any of Peter's friends are over, Ted insists on having them all simply call him Ted

He was 100% a Rubik's cube kid, and he still knows how to solve them. He keeps a speed cube on his desk to fidget and play with. Sometimes he'll take it with him and play with it in the back of the room during boring Monday meetings.