Vampire Diaries Imagines

Connected To The Past - Tyler Lockwood

The smell of old wood and leather mixed with YN's favorite vanilla candle as we sat on the floor of the Boarding House parlor. YN had been determined to dig through some family history tonight, and somehow, I'd gotten roped in. Not that I minded-watching her light up over finding old photos was worth it.

She was sitting cross-legged in front of me, holding up a glossy picture from a decade ago. "You had the worst haircut," she teased, her grin mischievous.

I grabbed the photo from her. "I was nine, okay? I didn't have control over the haircuts my mother made me get, YNN."

She laughed, her dark eyes sparkling as she placed the photo next to an ancient one of her uncles. It was weird seeing Damon and Stefan like that. Young. Happy. Not the brooding, dramatic vampires I knew them as now.

"These don't even look like them," I said, flipping through another stack of pictures. "Where's the perpetual scowl or the whole I'm-too-cool-for-you thing?"

YN giggled, picking up one where Damon was laughing, his arm draped over a much younger Stefan's shoulders. "They're actually... normal here," she said softly, her fingers brushing the edge of the photo.

Normal wasn't exactly the word I'd use for the Salvatores, but she wasn't wrong. These old photos painted a picture of a different time, a different life. It was strange, thinking of them as anything other than what they were now.

We'd been sitting there for about an hour when the front door creaked open, followed by the familiar voices of Damon and Stefan.

"We're home!" Damon called, the sarcasm practically dripping from his tone. "Are the kids still playing with crayons, or have we finally moved passed that phase?"

"In here!" YN called back, not missing a beat without her normal witty comeback.

A moment later, they stepped into the parlor. Damon immediately zeroed in on the scattered photos, while Stefan's expression softened with curiosity.

"What's all this?" Stefan asked, kneeling down next to us.

"Family history," YN said, gesturing to the chaos on the floor. "Some from your time, some from ours."

"Ah," Damon said, plucking a photo from the pile. "The golden age of awkward hairstyles and corsets. My favorite era." He tossed the photo back, smirking as he dropped into an armchair.

I ignored Damon and kept flipping through the stack I'd been holding. Then, I froze. One photo caught my attention-a woman from the late 1800s. She looked exactly like YN.

"Whoa," I said, holding it up. "This one-this looks like YNN. Like, exactly like her."

She leaned closer, frowning as she studied the picture. I couldn't help the grin that spread across my face. "When did you do a Civil War era reenactment and not tell me?" I teased.

"What are you talking about, Ty?" She questioned before looking over the portrait in my hand a little more, shaking her head. "That's not me. At least I don't think any way."

I handed it to Stefan, who took it with a quiet intensity. Damon leaned forward in his chair, his smirk vanishing as he looked at it.

"That's... our mother," Stefan said finally. His voice was soft, but the words hit the room like a thunderclap.

I blinked. "Wait, what? That's your mom? No way. You can't tell me you don't see the resemblance."

YN shook her head again, looking completely thrown. "I mean, sure, maybe... but I'm not related to her. Not directly, anyway. If anything, the only relation I have to their mom is through them and my something-great grandfather. There's no blood relation between me and her. Not that I know of anyway."