The Unwanted TVD X MCU

Prologue

My name is Gemma Mikaelson.

Most people know me as Hope Mikaelson's twin sister, but in my family I've always been known as something else: the forgotten one.

When Hope and I were born, the entire Mikaelson family was focused on her. She was the miracle child; the first born daughter of Klaus Mikaelson, a powerful witch, and a soon-to-be werewolf. The prophecy, the magic surrounding her birth, the attention from every supernatural faction in New Orleans, it all revolved around Hope.

Me on the other hand, I was automatically assumed to be ordinary.

The witches doctors who examined us said Hope's magic burned bright, while mine was almost impossible to detect. Of course, instead of waiting or running tests, everyone took that as proof that I was mostly human, maybe with a dormant werewolf gene that might never even trigger. Compared to Hope, I seemed weak, and unremarkable.

That assumption shaped my entire childhood. I was always told that Klaus and Hayley loved me, and at one point I thought it could be true. It wasn't always an obvious exclsuion of me, I would eat dinner with them in the evening, so maybe they did love me in the way parents are supposed to, at least on the surface, but as I gew older, their actions told a different story. Hope received their time, their protection, and their praise. They celebrated every sign of her power, every spell she managed, every achievement. She never had to question her worthiness when every family gathering became stories about Hope's bright future.

The only times my parents seemed to pay close attention to me were when something went wrong. When I broke a rule, argued with Hope, or acted out after being ignored for weeks. It was easier for them to see me as a problem than as a child who was hurting.

As I got older, the truth about me slowly began to surface. I wasn't human.

I carried all three bloodlines: witch, werewolf, and vampire, like Hope, I was a true tribrid. But my magic manifested differently from Hope's. Instead of explosive bursts of power, my abilities were deeply connected to water. I could sense currents beneath the earth, draw moisture from the air, calm or agitate bodies of water, and shape water with magic through intense concentration. It wasn't effortless, using too much power left me exhausted, sometimes with migraines or nosebleeds. The ability felt less like commanding nature and more like entering a negotiation with it.

The cruelest part was that none of this changed how my family treated me. Even when my magic began to emerge, it was often dismissed as unstable or inconvenient, while Hope's powers were viewed as extraordinary. The comparison between us never stopped. If Hope succeeded, everyone celebrated. If I succeeded, people acted surprised.

Davina Claire was the exception. She was the first person who noticed the imbalance. She saw the way Hope was included in conversations while I was talked over, the way my parents remembered Hope's preferences but forgot mine. Davina never tried to replace my mother, but she became the person who consistently showed up for me. She taught me magic, listened when I was angry, and reminded me that being overlooked did not make me unworthy of love.

Now Hope and I are thirteen, and tomorrow is our birthday. Hope has been talking about it for weeks. She's excited because birthdays in the Mikaelson family always become celebrations of her; lavish decorations, expensive gifts, relatives arriving from everywhere, endless attention. She deserves to be happy, and part of me genuinely wants that for her.

But I dread tomorrow.

I already know how it will go. People will crowd around Hope, asking what she wants, praising her magic, telling stories about how special she is. Someone will remember at the last minute that I'm also turning thirteen. I'll get a gift that feels chosen out of obligation rather than thoughtfulness, and the night will end with me slipping away before anyone notices I'm gone.

Davina promised we would spend the morning together by the river, practicing water magic and eating the chocolate cake she knows I love. I'm holding onto that promise more tightly than I want to admit.

Still, experience has taught me not to expect too much.

Because in the Mikaelson family, even the people who love me somehow always find a reason to choose Hope first.