If you recognize it, I don't own it! OCs are mine, though let's be real, they're the ones dictating what I write.


Early February of 2009, Baahir moved to New Orleans. Miriam was playing the long game, and knew she had to be strategic about it. She wanted someone on the inside of Marcel Gerard's operation, so that future events would be smoother. She also wanted someone stronger to guide Marcel. Baahir was an Ancient, having been turned not too long after the first non-Original vampires were. As a result, he was faster, stronger, and smarter. He had helped Miriam figure out some of her plays, and since he also knew everything that she did, he would be a good voice in Marcel's head, whispering suggestions.

So it was good that Baahir was going to New Orleans, but that didn't mean that Miriam was happy about it. Over the past year they had become very close, like siblings. Baahir annoyed her and protected her in equal parts. He let her experiment with TV shows and movies but absolutely refused to let her cook a meal that didn't contain noodles. He listened to her rant about the home-owners she cleaned for and let her cry in his arms when she missed home. He got her to dance in public. He loved her, and she loved him.

"I'm going to miss you," she admitted. They were standing in front of a small moving truck. Baahir was going to take most of the furniture with him, not including the TV, couch, and Miriam's bed.

"Why? I will be back in two months for your birthday," he said. It was true. He would come back for her birthday, and to help her move to Mystic Falls. If she wanted to change anything, she would have to be close to things. Miriam wasn't looking forward to the move; she had just gotten used to her and Baahir's shared apartment. She was also scared to enter the town of Mystic Falls. She had an irrational fear of the main characters immediately knowing that she was a key player, like how in animated movies kids could tell who the princess was based on how bright she was compared to the background characters. Miriam wasn't kidding herself, she knew she would never be the princess, but at least she could do some good before she was taken out.

(The nightmare she had most frequently was simple in its horror. She would be walking down the streets of downtown Mystic Falls, minding her own business. Then a main character would appear in front of her on the sidewalk. The character didn't matter. Sometimes it was Elena. Other times it was Klaus, or Elijah, or Damon. Whoever it was, they would ask her, "Are you Miriam Sanchez? Are you the seer?" When she replied yes, they would kill her. The one time she answered no Caroline gouged her eyes out and Miriam woke up screaming).

"I know, but I'll still miss you," they were probably co-dependent, Miriam figured. Desperate to lighten the mood, she said, "But I won't miss your mystery mondays."

"What?" Baahir faked surprise and hurt. "You do not like it when I pick a random recipe from a random culture and make it? I am attempting to broaden your horizons in foreign cuisine, you xenophobe."

"It was the Nordic, fish-based dishes that got me, honestly," she laughed wetly. "I really will miss you."

"I'm not dying!" Baahir sounded half exasperated, half worried. He hugged her firmly. "Call me every day. Text me several times a day. If you do not answer me promptly, I will be on the first flight out. I am serious, Miri."

"I'll answer," Miriam promised.

"Good," he pulled back, then frowned as he looked her over. "You need to eat more. You are losing weight. You also look tired."

"Wow, you really know how to compliment a girl," she knew she was losing weight. The stress of her nightmares and what she was guessing would happen in her own, personal future was killing her appetite. Her short body was naturally curvy and prone to retaining weight in her thighs and calves. These areas were shrinking, but Miriam only felt dismay. Her face was usually round, which gave her a young, innocent look. Now it was more angular. Her dark, curly mane of hair that hinted at her African heritage (her mom had been mixed white and African American) was usually a vibrant mess. Now her curls hung dull and limp.

"I mean no offense," he sighed. "Things won't fully start until this September. Sweeting, you have months to go. Pace your panic."

"I'll try," she smiled weakly at him.

"That's all I ask."

That night she curled up on her bed and forced herself to finish an entire packet of Kraft mac'n cheese. Baahir was right, she couldn't fall into a depression when she hadn't even made any life-altering decisions.

Still, the cheesy noodles tasted like sand in her mouth.


Baahir's visit, Miriam's 22nd birthday, and her move to Mystic Falls passed with little fanfare.

The move went smoothly. Miriam now lived in a small one-bedroom apartment in a good area of Mystic Falls. The apartment was nice. It had just as much community space as the apartment that Miriam and Baahir had shared together, it just lacked a second bedroom. The place had an abundance of light in both the main room and the bedroom. There was even a small balcony off the living space. Baahir even approved. He had compelled the landlord to watch out for Miriam, and to call him if anything ever went wrong with the apartment.

Miriam put up little protest. She still didn't have any ID. If she drew the attention of local law enforcement she would need a little mind compulsion to get her out of the situation. She had many fears, but one large one was getting arrested, then deported to a country that she didn't belong to. Though the Obama Administration was just beginning, they were still deporting people. It wasn't as well-known and controversial as during the Trump Administration, but she still didn't want to be deported to her "homeland". She could speak passable Spanish (she could understand it better), but she didn't think she could survive in Mexico without help.

She owned more furniture, now. Besides that couch, TV, and bed that Baahir had bought for her, she now owned a rug, a dresser, a desk, and even a few chairs. Everything was cheap (and her dresser had Disney stickers all over it), but it was hers, and that was all that mattered. She made enough money cleaning houses in Mystic Falls to afford better food. Fruit, something that she had taken for granted back in her world, was a treat here. It was so expensive compared to other food items that she treasured every single strawberry and blueberry she bought.

Life wasn't perfect, but it was looking up for Miriam.


It was a chilly day in late April, two Sundays after Easter. Miriam was wearing her warmest- only- jacket against the cold (Native Virginians would look at her weird, but she was born and raised in Arizona. Anything below 70 degrees was cold to her). She was low on groceries and decided to brave the weather.

Miriam was coming out of the supermarket when she crashed into someone. The impact jarred Miriam's groceries from her arms and the purse from the woman's hands. Both she and the other woman cursed and scrambled for their respective items.

"I'm so sorry!" they both exclaimed.

"Let me help you," the other woman insisted. She was middle-aged, with brown hair and a pretty smile. Her aura was calm, and her perfume was something floral. She helped Miriam pick up cans, boxes of pasta, and a bruised bunch of apples.

"Thank you," Miriam smiled.

"It's no problem," the older woman waved off her thanks. "It's what any good person would do."

Miriam was about to respond, when a loud "Mom!" interrupted them. Miriam and the kind lady turned to see three teenage girls walking on the sidewalk towards them. The one in front was tall, with long, dark brown hair. The girl on her right was shorter than the other two, and she had dark skin and a very 2009 haircut. The girl on her right was blood, and seemed to vibrate in place.

"Mom, can Caroline and Bonnie come over for dinner?" the girl asked.

"Of course!" the lady smiled at a stunned Miriam. "Have a nice day! Girls, come help me pick out dinner."

The girls reluctantly followed the woman into the store, leaving Miriam there on the sidewalk, completely freaked out.

She had just met Miranda Sommers-Gilbert. She had just seen the three main female characters of the show she was now trapped in… In a stupor, she made it back to her apartment on muscle memory alone. She put her groceries away mechanically. After, she collapsed on her couch and just stared at the turned-off TV screen.

She had been close to Elena, Caroline, and Bonnie. This was her first time seeing characters- people. She had to start thinking of them as real human beings- and it had been weird. The teenagers had looked like their respective actresses, but slightly different. Their faces had been softer, more child-like, and less like twenty-something women. They looked more like the teenage girls they actually were. Their make-up was just a little too heavy and off-tone. Caroline's pants had been slightly too short, hinting at a recent growth spurt. Bonnie's clothes had been more out of fashion than her friends, which made sense, with her being raised by her grandmother. Elena, who had obviously physically matured quickly, still had to deal with normal teenage girl things: a pimple had been on her forehead and nose.

If being attacked by a feral vampire last year had opened Miriam's eyes to the true danger this world possessed, running into Mrs. Gilbert and the three girls had opened Miriam's eyes to the fact that the changes she was going to make were going to affect real people. Real people. Real, living, breathing people. Not just names scribbled in a notebook. Not actors playing a character. Real. People.

The thought was humbling, and terrifying. She suddenly wanted to save Miranda Gilbert. Mrs. Gilbert had been an innocent. She had done nothing but be a mother to two main characters. Did she deserve to die? Could Miriam justify saving one woman, but in doing so change the fate of the entire universe? Would saving Mrs. Gilbert even matter? Would she just inevitably die horribly, like Jenna? Were characters who died in the show find a new way to die if Miriam saved them?

The questions swirled around her head until it felt like a tea kettle boiling. She pressed her face into the cushion of the couch and screamed, long and hard.


After running into Elena, Bonnie, Caroline, and Mrs. Gilbert, Miriam kept seeing them around town. She saw Caroline with her mother a few times, both together and separately (she didn't want to be near Sheriff Forbes, just in case the woman could sense secrets, and a lack of ID). She even saw Bonnie walking with her grandmother Sheila once. Miriam also saw others like Matt and Tyler. Luckily no one looked too different from their TV counterpart. The bad part of that recognition meant that every time she ran into a character she knew she had to try to dodge them. It was especially hard to avoid the Gilberts. The Gilbert parents were active in the community, which only added to Miriam's guilt over letting them die.

And she had decided to let the Gilberts die. She couldn't risk the entire plot for just two people. If she wanted to aid the Mikaelsons later, she needed things to be as close to the original plot lines as possible. It was tough, though. The people she walked by didn't know they were fated for death, or at least a very difficult life.

The car crash that would kill the Gilbert parents was coming, and Miriam wasn't looking forward to it one bit.


AN: Folks, I am still riding the high of finally publishing a story. It's an awesome feeling, TBH.

Thank you to everyone who is still reading this!

WE FINALLY HIT CANNON CHARACTERS! I'm excited, cause now it's less an original story and more a fan fic, lol

(P.S.: for Baahir I pictured in my head as Mena Massoud, the actor who played Aladdin in the 2019 live-action adaptation. I am at a total loss for Miriam, tho. She was originally Polynesian, but then I gave her the last name Sanchez and now she's predominantly Mexican and Black. The closest thing I can find that fits the image in my head is the "carefree laugh" by Beverly Johnson. But, IDK. Picture whomever you want. Live your best life. Or even better, let me know if you're picturing a certain actress/singer/famous person!)