I tried something new once. This is the only thing I have to show for it. Second person, doppleganger lesbianism, barely any incest, what's even going on anymore.

Inspiration: Claws Off by Cursive

Superstitious grave robber

Keep your claws off me and mine

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You've been circling around each other like lionesses, but you are the one with all the sharp teeth. Elena knows that, she's fucking trembling because of it, but still she stands.

"Fuck you, bitch!" she screams.

Such language should offend you less. It's tragic really. Your sense of propriety should have died when you did. Yet it lingers still as a painful reminder, wriggling under your bodice and gnawing a hole into your chest. And yet… One eyebrow lifts. "Now there's an idea."

She seems to choke on your retort, and that's enough of that. Two steps close the gap between the two of you before she can blink. Your hand slaps around her throat and pins her against the wall. They're all so convinced you look exactly alike you most definitely are offended. You can't let on though, no, then they'd never stop taunting you with it.

Although you don't mind so much when they scoff and yell and toss you around. Their undivided attention is a bit addictive. But it's divided now and that is a problem.

The girl's sputtering face is turning a vibrant blue under your grip. Her imperfections, acne scars, small scratches, sun damage and finest of stress lines seem to glow so bright you're blinded every mark. Which is a shame. She's your legacy after all. She could be as beautiful as you if she were dead. But then your game with the boys would be over. You smile and loosen your grip, letting air fill her lungs.

She sighs with relief, but you're not done, are you? You shouldn't let her get you so down. There are enough similarities in her you could be looking at a very fuzzy mirror. Not with that horror creasing her brow lines. Your eyes focus. Can't compel her with the vervain necklace, but she's looking straight back at you with wide eyes, paying full attention.

"I'm not going to hurt you," you tell her, dismissing the struggle she already has breathing because of you. "Not yet anyway."

She tenses up again but doesn't look away. Not always needing compulsion was one of the first things you taught Damon. He watched in rapture as you used your charm alone to lure Stefan into your and Damon's bed for the first time. Not that it was difficult. They always were naughty boys.

Then Elena came along to fuck it all up.

You push her away and she stumbles back, sliding down the wall. What's the big deal about the girl anyway? It's not like the Salvatore's hadn't seen it all before. And you have to have considerable more experience between the sheets. Maybe that's it. Maybe you're too experienced, and she offers an innocence you stole from both of them a century and a half ago.

"What do you want from me?" She sounds less angry and you're growing tired of this. What exactly makes a doppelganger that much better than you when you are clearly so much more interesting? The idea makes you itch with curiosity. The whole reason you came here in the first place. Waiting for the boys to be out of town on one of Klaus's missions so you could have the opportunity you needed.

"Leave the Salvatore's alone, Elena. They hold no future for you." Her eyes dim and you think she looks disappointed. But if you couldn't have them both back then, when you were willing to let them have each other as well, she sure as hell isn't going to make it work now by coming between them.

"They'll get you eventually." She swallows hard, rubbing her neck where bruises are blooming in shape of your fingers. She sounds determined though, as if she understands them so much better than you.

"Let them come," you snark back. "If they hated me that much, they wouldn't have been so eager to keep it in the family."

Her eyes go wide, finger winding around the necklace hanging from her neck.

"You've no one left, Elena," you try gentler. If the rest of your plan is to come together, she can't be so on edge. It's true anyway. Her friends have their own supernatural problems. Her biological parents, even all her surrogates, are dead. Her all-important family that she was so bent on protecting has narrowed down to two, and she had Jeremy compelled to run for the hills months ago. The sigh you let out as you kneel down to face her is all for show. "You waste so much time being terrified. What kind of life is that?" She looks lost briefly then her eyes flick back to you and there's an expression distinctly familiar.

"What do you want, Elena? Has being with either of them been worth it?"

She sighs and wraps her arms around her chest. If she's considering lying, she doesn't go with it. No, you know the look of frank honesty on your own face any day. If only to avoid it.

"I don't want to be afraid anymore." She runs her fingers through her hair and the scent takes you by surprise. The smell of warm butterscotch and ivory soap wafts your way and you kind of want to take her pain away. You get a rush of wicked possessiveness shuddering through you. She grabs the pendant again, keeping it tight in her grasp as if taking comfort from it. It may be residual effects of a year-old spell, or the nature of being a doppelganger, but there's a biological link that connects you both. You can feel her pain and fear, but she seems to be drawing from your confidence.

"That's understandable. There's a whole wide world out there that has nothing to do with this damned town." You whisper, so she leans closer to you. "I can show you." Your finger traces the chain around her neck and she shivers under your touch. "Come with me."

In a rare moment of honesty, you once told Stefan that you came back for him. You loved him more than he reciprocated and wasn't that just a shame when his brother was so over-eager. But neither wanted you now. Even your replacement seemed to have lost her shiny-newness to them. Making the boys 'unite against you' turned out to be a bad idea. They're running around, distracted; saving each other from Klaus and no is left to protect her anymore. And those eyes she's giving you work every time you've fluttered them at anyone.

It's a different kind of hunger in her expression. She reaches out, hand sliding along the floor towards yours and it clicks. She gets off on the danger. Stefan was pulled in too many directions to be a good match. And Damon was too interested in making Stefan jealous. Tragic.

She'll come with you if she thinks it's for the best, even if there's no one left. Her self-righteous crusade for martyrdom will only give her the role as the fair princess locked in the tower but you're a sucker for your own role as the wicked stepmother. Now that you think about it, you are her actual grandmother. However many generations separate you. She's the only vestige of the child that was once ripped away from you. Maybe it was meant to be this way. You don't let her touch your hand yet.

Tapping twice on the pendant gets her eyes back on yours. "Take the necklace off first."

She hesitates, worry flitting across her eyes before they cast down and she reaches up to the clasp. You're not sure if you're more surprised that she hesitated or that she obeyed you, you can't have compelled her without knowing it right? "If you want to," you tack on the end just in case. Resolve replaces hesitation and she smiles. You mirror the smile as she holds the necklace out to you.

"You're not his anymore."

It doesn't matter which 'his' you're referring to. She nods, dropping it in your hand. Your fingers curl around the silver pendant, the heat instantly seeping out of it. It's fitting anyway. Nothing you've ever done deserves the warmth of life. Your pets never kept well with that limitation. By the time you're done with her the vervain won't do her any good.

"What about them?" She finally asks. "They love me- are in love with me…"

You can't deny that's true, no matter how buried you keep the secret that you wish it was still you. "They do, but in spite of how hard they try to hate each other—and god knows they try—no matter how much they want you, or me, they'll choose each other first. It will always be the two of them."

It still isn't funny, but you laugh anyway as you stand up. "It was such a ridiculous mistake to put them in the same bed. Damon used me to get Stefan; only to find out he didn't need me after all. They didn't know what they had until I brought them together. They should be grateful. Instead they keep trying to kill me and bang you. Their fight with Klaus isn't even about you or I anymore, but I don't think they've realized that yet. It's all a bit twisted." Your lip curls up, a sudden thrill of all the games to come.

She doesn't look surprised, but why should she? The Salvatore's have always been poor at subtlety.

"They are Klaus's problem now anyway. He'll find out soon enough what happens when you come between the Salvatore brothers."

Her smirk is a definite reflection of yours, deadly and beautiful after all. Your gaze flits between the silver cooling in the palm of your hand and her bare throat. You're already mentally picking out a new necklace for her. Something to show the world she belongs to you now. You take her hand in yours, helping her up and pulling her closer.

"Men are no good for you, honey." Your smile is genuine but you're worried it will appear ironic, so you hold tamp it down. "I can take care of you, if you want." The words sound dangerous and exciting, and there's a lot of ways it could be taken. But Elena seems to want it both ways. Risk and safety. You can do that. You've done well for yourself so far, with most of your predator's now dead or occupied, you don't doubt your own promise.

She suddenly leans forward and kisses you. It's surprising just as much as it isn't. Her lips are deliciously warm against yours, chaste, in the best, most disconcertingly way possible. You get it. It's not that she's been secretly pining for girls all this time, but you're a part of each other, and at the same time, you are both a bit in love with yourselves. She wraps an arm around your waist and leans into you, suddenly shy.

It's not about sex, but it can be that too. You were never known for your abundance of modesty, Isobel never seemed to be satisfied with one partner either. Maybe this kind of promiscuity is hereditary. The fact that you are technically related doesn't actually mean anything to you anyway. It could be fun. You'd know how to exploit every one of her buttons and she'd be pretty good at hitting yours too. She's got the eye thing down.

It's probably an invitation for trouble to stay together long term. She'd take pleasure in the risk though, maybe forever, like you. You could give that to her if she stayed human. You play with the idea of never turning her, even when she begs—especially—when she begs. People would see you both walking down the street hand in hand, wondering if you're innocent or wicked twins. Until she gets older and you no longer look identical. You may as well admit it now. You could charm a witch to put a glamour on you, age with her. That would make the game better. It'd be no good to look like her little sister, or worse, her granddaughter—

Gag. No. No, it won't come to that.

You pet her hair softly, smiling to yourself.

Maybe she's forgotten that she was once convinced she didn't want to be a vampire. There's a disturbing amount of trust she's throwing your way as if she really expects you to not want her dead. More likely, she doesn't expect you'll actually turn her. She doesn't know herself well enough yet to realize she'll regret this decision. Unless she turns out to be more like you than you think. Either way, there are great games to be had. It's going to be so much fun.

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I'm not gonna say good luck,

What I wanna say

What I wanna say is

Get Fucked.