#a wolf amongst serpents

[bhaleesi]

Hyperion Tydus, A Wolf Amongst Serpents 

Someone yelled, “It’s an inferno in there, my lord! We’re doing our best to quench it, so-”

“Your best isn’t good enough!” Hyperion’s throat was hoarse. Ares is going to burn.

A loud crackle sounded as a portion of Dadia’s Rest collapsed. It sent up a cohort of orange and yellow that danced madly in the night. A man jumped from a low window, crawled three paces, then succumbed to fires that gleefully engulfed him. Hyperion’s thoughts swept beyond his control as he watched, conjuring possibilities that made him hyperventilate.

His baby brother with his flesh sloughed off, Ares in the depths of hellfire.

It spurred him with renewed vigour. This time, he managed to evade the arms of those who sought to block him. With only a spare thought for himself, Hyperion ran into the flames.  

I am a Tydus. He repeated this mantra. The flames cannot hurt me.

[sinnersshadow]

INCOMING TEXT

A spy lies in wait, a wolf in sheep's clothing that has been a Society spy the whole time. Who amongst the Serpents is not to be trusted? Lets see if you can find out before I'm forced to reveal them myself.

[pvrkacciosan]

! New cover reveals !

The Heart of a Lioness

Published. Fenrys X O.C, Throne of Glass

Blood sworn to the Fae queen Maeve, sister to the lion. And mate to the white wolf.

Rumours of a new young Fae queen drives Brielle to join her brothers in arms, Maeve's legendary warrior group, to aid the young queen in her fight for a better world.

Many years Brielle has fought against the restraints Maeve has around her, but restrained she will be no longer. Because their times has come, Brielle will fight to her last breathe to defend her own, and for their future lives in a new world made by a court of dreamers.

.

.

The Heart of the Flame

Coming soon. Azriel X O.C, A Court of Thorns and Roses

Enya has spent her whole life living amongst the warmth of the day court. Hidden from the eye of the world.

The shadows keeping her and her power a secret for years. Keeping her lineage a secret, from those who seek to harm her, and those she shares blood with.

The heart of a burning flame is hard to be hidden by shadows when it was born to stand out.

.

.

The Heart of the Serpent

Coming Soon. Undecided SJM charcter X O.C, Crescent City

Breaking the mold into which you were born was always Inara's biggest challenge.

The words of others are even more venomous to that of which she was used to. But when one has a mother as she does who needs true enemies.

And who needs challenges when life is as poisonous as any venom

.

.

! I do not own the art work, all credit goes to the original creators and owners !

[darklordazalin]

Azalin Reviews: The Darklord Phantom Lover

Domain: Leederik’s Tower Domain Formation: 565 BC Power Level: 💀💀⚫⚫⚫ Sources: Darklords (2e), Van Richten’s Monster Hunter’s Compendium II (2e) The story of how Leederik became known as “The Phantom Lover” and a Darklord in his own right has been obscured by the Mists. Given his name and aptitude for abducting beautiful maidens overcome by grief, one may theorize that he was once the ‘ghost’ of an certain opera house on Gothic Earth…

The Phantom Lover’s Domain, Leederik’s Tower, is unique and perhaps the only interesting thing about this zestless phantom. The Tower is tall, dark, and brooding and surrounded by a labyrinth of mysterious shadows. The tower itself can travel amongst the Domains in the mists and can travel to other planes of existence. Despite this, Leederik is just as trapped as the rest of us. Even if he could freely leave his tower behind, he chooses not to as he is far too focused on his own desires to realize his own torment.

Leederik targets individuals that are grieving for a loved one. He often favors grieving women and continually visits them whenever they are to feed on their grief and the pain that comes with it. He appears to his victims as the one they are grieving for. The only difference is his left foot always appears black, scaled, and reptilian. Not an easy appendage to hide, but his victims are often so absorbed in their own grief that they easily overlook it. Although, one must consider the fact that these individuals also believe their loved ones returned from the dead without any apparent divine intervention, so they are likely not the most intelligent.

Night after night Leederik slowly drains the life force from his victims. He exhibits a number of vampire-like abilities such as shifting into a mist form and shape changing. Though, instead of a bat or a wolf favored by most vampires, Leederik turns into a serpent. Van Richten seems to think he is a ghost, but I am not convinced. Perhaps this ‘famed’ monster hunter should have done a bit more research on the matter.

Eventually the victim will be given the choice to go to Leederik’s Tower and stay with him forever or leave him behind. Most end up at his tower and die slowly until he drains them completely.

Without a history to go on or any sort of personality, I’m reduced to reviewing this “Darklord” by his abilities alone. His Tower is unique, but he is essentially just another type of vampire. For that, I will reluctantly give him 2 skulls.

[jeffreystewart]

Norsery Rhymes from A to Z Fenrir, The Wolf of Expectation Fenrir Week - Day 1

Well here we are another Thor’s Day and another 20 min sketch of a Norse (and Germanic) mythological characters.  This week it’s Fenrir / Fenris / / Fenris-Wolf / Fenrisúlfr / Hróðvitnir / Vánagandr / Vanargand, the Giant Wolf. Mentioned on runestones, in the Heimskringla, the Prose Edda, and the Völuspá and Vafþrúðnismál in the Poetic Edda.

His name has been translated “fen dweller” from the Old Norse ‘fenrez’. Meaning "swamp", "marsh-land", or "wetlands dweller". His other names being 'Hróðvitnir' meaning "the famous wolf" and 'Vanargand' and 'Vánagandr' meaning "the monster of the Van river", as he is the source of it. He's also called “the creature”, or “wolf”, “of expectation” because of the prophesy around him ,and how that prophesy directly leads to all the events that happen to him. 

He is the child of Loki and the Jotun / Giant Witch Angrboda / Angrboða. Who along with it's siblings Jörmungandr, who would become the enormous Midgard Serpent, and Hel the eventual ruler of Hel or Niflhel the Lands of the Dead, all grew up in Jötunheimr together.

Given the mischeivious nature of both Loki and Angrboda, Odin was inclined to believe a prophesy that indicated that as the children got older they would cause untold trouble, eventually ending in many deaths including Odins.

So the Aesir went to see the children. Jörmungandr was growing so large that he would eventually take up all the land, so they sent him to the deepest sea that circles the earth. Hel who appeared half dead they gave her the lands of the the dead not claimed by the gods, Niflhel / Hel to see too. And Fenrir who was already large and frightening, they realized was not so terrible once Tyr bravely gave him some food. So they took Fenrir home to live with the Aesir. 

Fenrir lived peacfully there amongst the gods for a time. But eventually his ever growing size and memories of the prohesy that he would injure and kill so many of them led some of the gods to think to fetter him for their protection. 

The gods had three fetters created, each incedibly strong and each twice as strong as the one before it. Fenrir being an intelligent creature had to be tricked into trying them on, by saying they wanted to see how strong they were and he was the only one they could think of to try them, hoping to entice him with the fame of breaking such incredible bindings. The first Leyding, was easily kicked off. The second was Dromi, that he had more difficulty shaking and kicking off. The third was a magically crafted fetter called Gleipnir, made by Svartlheim dwarfs out of the 6 strongest and mythical materials. Smooth and soft as a silk ribbon.

Fenrir was brought down to the Lyngvi Island, on Amsvartnir Lake to see the latest achivement in the gods fetter. But he could see it looked like silk and was either too flimsy and there was no need to test it, or it was magical and he was uneasy in testing it. Fearing that he would be unable to free himself, and was afraid the gods would not free him. He agreed to be tied up if one of the gods would put their hand in it's mouth as insurance that they would free him afterwards.

Only brave Tyr who had shown Fenrir kindness was willing. Odin swore they would free him, and Fenrir agreed. Fenrir was bound and started to kick and pull at the binding, with Tyr's hand in it's mouth. The silken band grew stronger the more he struggled. The gods, all except Tyr, laughed and cheered. When Fenrir realized the bindings would not break, and he was being bound without being freed. Tyr lost his hand. 

The gods ran the cord through a magical stone slab called Gjöll (scream) that was placed deep into the ground. With an large magical stone call Thviti to anchor it down. When Fenrir howled, the gods placed a sword in it's mouth upright with the blade against the top oh his mouth. This caused the giant wolf to salivate so much that it would become the river Van. 

Fenrir will continue to grow with the fetters growing with him. In Ragnarok when all bindings will snap, the stones and slab will tear free of the earth and the bindings fail. Fenrir will be so large that his mouth will touch the ground and sky at the same time. And with Flames from his eyes and nose, he we seek his revenge. Reuniting with his Brother Jörmungandr and other Jotun. Swallowing Odin at least, before Odins son Víðarr, the giant God of Vengeance, armed with a magically strong boot that holds Fenrir in place by his jaw, fells Fenrir.

This one always feels like so many Norse myths, a tragedy, and a self fulfilling prophesy. A betrayal and deaths that likely would not have happened without the prophesy that they would.

I love drawing animals, and I’m off work this week. So I decided to sketch seven quick drawings of Fenrir to end this year with a short daily series. With Fenrir progressing in age as we go.

[godkilller]

There is something almost territorial in the way he stares at Gin, but truthfully, this place was lawless before Sosuke Aizen, the sexta once reveled in the nature of it all, survival. Live or die. With Tier now ruling the land things were relatively different, he didn't stay much in the company of the remnants of the Espada, and his destructive and violent nature it was hard to sit idle, " So what are 'ya a soul reaper again? You're the last face I ever thought to see here again, " that smug smile and those slanted eyes of his, he always hated it, their was something uncertain about Ichimaru Gin, after all, only predators survived here.

A WOUNDED WOLF HAD EVERY REASON TO SNAP AND SNARL WHEN APPROACHED, yet Gin could only muster a weaker grin, still ripping, still wicked, in Grimmjow's presence. He was muted, that eerie aura of his he once wielded as a weapon the same as his silver steel was weighed down by the wounds afflicted to him during deicide. An emptied sleeve at his right swayed to emphasize such a festering fact, and Gin moved fluidly -- albeit tired -- with idling steps that brought him towards a balcony overseeing the sands of Hueco Mundo beyond Las Noches. The remnants of a throne room, cracks in the pale stone and glossy flooring, a room he once frequented as Aizen Sousuke's silver shadow. This whole tower belonged to the looming traitor, the last remaining of the trio that changed everything in this sunless scape once they arrived. A serpent slithering amongst ruins. Suitable, for he too was ruined.

HE WAS NOT TOO WOUNDED TO NOT STRIKE, HOWEVER, IF MOTIVATED TO DO SO, the Sexta Espada was correct to eye him warily. The question earned Grimmjow an absent-minded scoff, soft, dismissive -- equally mournful, nostalgia, a lie, a truth, a pathetic thing to think about. And yet --

❝ I never stopped bein' a Shinigami, even when Tousen-san took to Hollowification and cap'n Aizen took in the Hogyoku, I've always remained a Shinigami. I ain't on Soul Society's side, though, if that's what you're tryin' to read outta me. ❞ A cold delivery, Gin kept his hidden gaze trained on the crescent moon beyond the balcony, a silver ghost illuminated, pale robes flowing in the dead gusts that rolled over the distant dunes.

Yes, only predators survived here ----

❝ You look well, though, Grimmjow, all things considered. Thought Nnoitra took a decent chunk outta you, but I suppose the kid hadn't exhausted your regeneration all th' way up beforehand. Come to try'n test your luck with me? ❞

A seethe, a swelling of reiatsu typically coiled close and composed was unleashed with a hissing surge, the air grew thickened with pressure and potent snarling intent, murderous, a warning show of fangs towards an approaching beast; back off, I'll bite.

His grin grew, empty, a hollow and utterly false thing upon his face, perhaps the most aching lie of all -- this supposed will to live, this willingness to snarl at all when all he wanted to do was perish. But not like this, not by your hand, not now, not yet. That reiatsu continued, a blanket of captain-class fuck off energy.

❝ ... I don't recommend it. ❞

[hpldreads]

The newly-coined "Romantasy" genre is taking the literary world by storm. Here are just a few of the Romantasy books we have available at our library!

A Court of Thorns and Roses by Sarah J. Maas - "Dragged off to a treacherous magical land as retribution for killing a wolf, huntress Feyre learns that her captor is one of the lethal, immortal faeries who once ruled her world."

Fourth Wing by Rebecca Yarros - "Twenty-year-old Violet Sorrengail was supposed to enter the Scribe Quadrant, living a quiet life among books and history. Now, the commanding general—also known as her tough-as-talons mother—has ordered Violet to join the hundreds of candidates striving to become the elite of Navarre: dragon riders. But when you’re smaller than everyone else and your body is brittle, death is only a heartbeat away...because dragons don’t bond to “fragile” humans. They incinerate them."

Throne of the Fallen by Kerri Maniscalco - "A #1 New York Times best-selling author makes her adult debut with a steamy new standalone romantic fantasy set in her fan-favorite Kingdom of the Wicked world, about a dark prince battling an impossible curse—and the artist who might be the only one who can set him free."

From Blood and Ash by Jennifer L. Armentrout - "Chosen from birth to usher in a new era, Poppy's life has never been her own. The entire kingdom's future rests on Poppy's shoulders. And when Hawke, a golden-eyed guard enters her life, destiny and duty become tangled with desire and need. Forsaken by the gods and feared by mortals, a fallen kingdom is rising once more, determined to take back what they believe is theirs through violence and vengeance. Poppy is not only on the verge of losing her heart and being found unworthy by the gods, but also her life when every blood-soaked thread that holds her world together begins to unravel."

The Serpent and the Wings of Night by Carissa Broadbent - "The adopted human daughter of the Nightborn vampire king, Oraya carved her place in a world designed to kill her. Her only chance to become something more than prey is entering the Kejari: a legendary tournament held by the goddess of death herself. But winning won’t be easy amongst the most vicious warriors from all three vampire houses. To survive, Oraya is forced to make an alliance with a mysterious rival. Everything about Raihn is dangerous. He is a ruthless vampire, an efficient killer, an enemy to her father’s crown…yet, what terrifies Oraya most of all is that she finds herself oddly drawn to him."

[cymorilcinnamonroll]

7 level

Devils are souls of the dead - a small number of beliefs originating in Western Ukraine and Poland state that souls that can’t go to Heaven aren’t just taken by the Devil, but become devils themselves a la in DnD.

Slavic Gorgons - well, not Slavic per se, but Gorgons’ story did not end in Ancient Greece. Medieval manuscripts, including Slavic ones and the aforementioned Physiologus, feature many classical monsters including the snake lady herself. From there, Gorgon seeped into the Slavic culture. At first, Gorgons were described in a very familiar shape, except in this case a Gorgon is slain not by Perseus, but by either an unnamed wizard or Alexander the Great. In the 17-18th century some lubok pictures featured Meduza. Not the snake-headed woman, no. In fact, this Medusa has a completely normal human head with a pretty crown on top of it. Everything else, however… Meduza has a body of the beast and snakes in place of her limbs and tail. Moreover, she is an aquatic creature, living in the ocean next to something called “Ethiopian Abyss”. Some apocryphal books also mention the beast Gorgoniy - some unspecified creature that guards the gates of Heaven.

Rabid fish - amongst Volga fishermen, Alosa kessleri, also referred to as the Caspian anadromous shad or the blackback was known as the rabid fish, since it tends to be pretty strong and jump in the net for a long time after being pulled out, giving an impression of either a fierce warrior or someone having convulsions.

Eldritch hands in Baba Yaga's hut - a fairy tale of Vasilisa the Beautiful is always talked about, when people remember Baba Yaga. Some people can remember a skull with fiery eyes, which was given to Vasilisa by Yaga. However, many people gloss over three pairs of hands that obey Baba Yaga’s commands. When Vasilisa asks the hag about those things, she only says something like “that’s none of your business”.

The Shitting Bull - in this short tale from Pskov oblast’ two children are kidnapped by the wolf, who wants to eat them. But an unlikely hero comes to the rescue. Kids ride the Shitting Bull, and when the wolf catches up to them, ready to swallow the children, the bull, well, unloads himself into the beast’s maw, thus buying time to transport kids to safety.

Iron man - in Belarusian folklore Iron Man is a strange kind of Boogeyman, living in swamps and bogs. Iron Man embodies bog iron and basically looks like a humanoid made of iron. He (it?) is typically aggressive and dangerous, much like any other swamp creature.

Iron Woman - this critter has nothing to do with an Iron Man described above. Iron Woman is a creepy old hag with an iron hook and large iron breasts. She is basically a boogeyman, made up to scare children away from gardens. If she catches a child with her hook, she will either take them somewhere away or… strangle them with her iron breasts. Yikes.

Crystal mountain - in the fairy tale of Crystal Mountain, said mountain threatens to engulf the entire kingdom. To destroy this mountain, the hero has to fight a serpent. Inside of it he finds an egg, and in the egg there’s a tiny grain. Upon touching the mountain with that grain, it (the mountain) just melts away.

Opletai (name means “Entangler”) - a very creepy Siberian creature that is basically a man, but with only one long and flexible arm and one leg. It waits for people on the tree, ambushes them, entangles them with its hand and drinks their blood. Opletais can also join together in a pair, entangling with one another thus becoming very fast, as now they have an entire set of legs.

The Bell Man - “Man” here is not “male human”, but an antiquated Russian word that literally reads as “Mann” and can mean something like “the caller”. The Bell Man is one of the many types of Slavic undead spirits. He sits on the bell tower during the night and leaves it when the bell strikes three times. The Bell Man also wears a white or red cap. If someone steals it from him, he is going to haunt the thief and demand from them to either return the cap or put it on. If the thief obliges to any of these demands, the Bell Man will be able to kill them by strangling.

Nightingale the Robber’s sons-in-law - in many variations of his story, the Nightingale-bandit has three daughters who all are married (sometimes to their own brothers). Their husbands, upon seeing the bandit beaten and captured by Ilya of Murom, try to fight him, but end up dead or scared away. In one variant they transform into the…

Nogai bird - Nogai bird, also known as Nog, Nagaitchshina, Mogol and under many other names is the catch-all term for monstrous birds. In fairy tales a common plot point involves the Mogol bird helping the hero to fly from the Underworld. She requires forty barrels of food and water to fly this long (apparently, leaving the Underworld takes much longer than entering it), and even that is not enough, as the hero has to cut out his calf muscles to give her the final boost. No worries, after landing Mogol regurgitates them and heals our protagonist. In literature, Nog seems to be synonymous to griffins and is described as a big bird with four legs.

Bolotnik types - in the beliefs of people of the Vitebsk Governorate there are special types of bolotniks, each associated with a different swamp phenomena. Orzhavnik (his name comes from the word meaning “rust”) with orange hair lives in the bogs rich with iron deposits. Bagnik can be found in the peat bogs, grabs people by the legs, trying to drown them, and can create will-o-wisps. Lozoviks are mischievous spirits of vines and willows, who can lead people into the bushes or quagmires, but then help them to get out. Finally, there’s seldom mentioned Virovnik, whose name comes from the word “vir”, meaning “deep place in the swamp or river”.

The Slavic Iceberg

[bhaleesi]

Soldier, Poet, King by the Oh Hellos has been trending (again) so I decided to participate with my OCs from A Wolf Amongst Serpents! 

The Soldiers: known for their strength. Bathed in blood, surrounded by fire. They are always moving forward - no matter the cost, no matter where the road might lead. 

Arion Sylph, Esmerelda Caedis, Hyperion Tydus, Selene Caedis, Theron Lycan.

The Poets: known for their charisma. They have a vision for the world, and they create the path to get it. Their words hold power, and they will use it - for better or worse. 

Isabelle Tydus, Orion Livingstone, Quill Lycan, Reyna Tydus, Celestina Lycan

The Rulers: known for their duty. Heavy expectations have been placed on their shoulders. Though they might bend underneath the weight of their crowns, they do not break. 

Sakura Wolff, Lucien Caedis, Ayden Caedis, Lyra Livingstone, Corvus Livingstone

[evermore-fashion]

Hel (Old Norse ‘Hidden’) was the goddess of the death in Norse mythology, as well as a child of Loki who lived amongst the Aesir Gods and Angrboda, a fearsome giantess. This made Hel the sister of the monsters Fenrir (‘The Mighty Norse Wolf,’) and Jormungandr, (‘The Midgard Serpent.’) The Aesir Gods feared these three children due to their monstrous parentage, and prophecies of the chaos that they would wreak on the Norse cosmos. In order to contain the problem, Odin sent each of the children to a place where they could do the least harm. In the case of Hel, he sent her to Niflheim, one of the Norse lands of the dead, and gave her jurisdiction over the realm. (Hamda Al Fahim Spring 2019 Haute Couture Collection)

[pvrkacciosan]

PvrkAccioSan presents...

Last Update: 04, July 2024 at 11:38

Hello there!

I see you have made it to my Masterlist.

WELCOME.

To the universe of PvrkAccioSan

A place where I will transport you into the world of my writing, an escape from reality.

A.n: All parts number are together, anything under bullet points are single one-shots

--------------------☽⋆❈⋆☾--------------------

ONE SHOTS

☽⋆ Fourth Wing⋆☾

Bodhi Durran X Reader

Breaks and Bruises

Kicks and Kisses

Secrets and Sex NSFW

Teeth and Tongues Coming Soon! NSFW

Garrick Tavis X Reader

Stick and Stones Coming Soon!

Akrasia NSFW

SERIES

─THRONE OF GLASS─

Series. (Over 10 parts)

The Heart of the lioness

Status: Ongoing

Fenrys Moonbeam X O. C

POV: 3rd person

Info: Blood sworn to the fae queen Maeve, sister to the Lion. And mate to the wolf. Rumours of a new young fae queen drives Brielle to join her brothers in arms, Maeve's legendary warrior group, to aid the young queen in her fight for a better world. Many years Brielle has fought against the restraints Maeve has around her, but restrained she will be no longer. Because their times has come, Brielle will fight to her last breathe to defend her own and for their future lives in a new world made by a court of dreamers. The Heart of the Lioness isn't easily broken, but if she is to succeed, it may shatter before she has a chance to save herself

Total Reading time: 13 hrs 21 min

─A COURT OF THORNS AND ROSES─

Series. (Over 10 Parts)

The Heart of the Flame

Status: Ongoing

Azriel X O.C

POV: 3rd Person

Info: Enya has spent her whole life living amongst the warmth of the day court. Hidden from the eye of the world. The shadows keeping her and her power a secret for years. Keeping her lineage a secret, from those who seek to harm her, and those she shares blood with. The heart of a burning flame is hard to be hidden by shadows when it was born to stand out. When tasked with teaching Feyre Curse breaker the art of the flame, Enya must first get to grips with her own magic and where it might come from. All the while the ever watching shadow, Azriel spymaster of the Night Court believes her to harbour secrets that run deeper. Secrets which could harm his court. He will stop at nothing in pursuit of finding every hidden detail within the Heart of the Flame.

—CRESCENT CITY—

Series. (Over 10 Parts)

The Heart of the Serpent

Status: Ongoing

Unknown Crescent City Character X O.C

POV: 3rd Person

Info: Breaking the mold into which you were born was always Inara's biggest challenge. The words of others are even more venomous to that of which she was used to. But when one has a mother as she does who needs true enemies. And who needs challenges when life is as poisonous as any venom. The Heart of this Serpent is shrouded by curiosity and a deathly desire for knowledge. Power. Anything that could give her an edge. But the world around her is crumbling, an ancient power unravelling, and her world had unwillingly be dragged apart of it, by forces unknown to her.

─THE HOBBIT─

Series (Over 10 parts)

Suffer me Smaug

Status: Ongoing

Throin Oakenshield X O. C

POV: 1st Person

Info: Calintíea Delanter, a female shrouded by stories and the embodiment of a myth is found by two princes as they travel to meet their kin in the humble aboad of a Hobbit in the shire. In her...state the descendants of Durin's folk choose not to leave her be and invite her to embark on a journey to reclaim the Dwarvish Kingdom of Erebor.

She too, knows of the fire storm which can destroy towns, she remembers and recalls it well, and she too has deals to settle with Smaug.

Side by side with the proclaimed King under the mountain and his kin can Calintíea help the company reclaim what is rightfully theirs all the while trying not to reveal herself to the people around her.

If they were to find out about her truths. They may cut her down before she has a chance to prove her worth to their journey.

[lasplaga]

They were only permitted ritual beneath the earth, IN HELL WHERE THEY BELONGED, for the underworld gifted them sanctuary. Refuge beyond the barren island rife of starvation, war & disease. How fitting for a man... THIS THING... tainted by sickness, to be found beneath the graves of 'vile blasphemers'. Holy practitioners of the faith believed by the girl, of course. How could they possibly be evil, corrupted with irrevocable sin, for setting ablaze atrocious demons? Banishing dark spirits to the abyss from whence they came? DEVILISH CREATURES, SUCH AS HIMSELF? --- The fiend was enchanted by mantra, in prayer before a sacrificial offering. A sharp golden blade plunged through a mass of unidentifiable flesh, the hilt bearing the likeness of a wicked spider. Was it an animal Osmund drug down here by his claws? HUMAN? No doubt the prey was to be consumed, as he worshiped the large chunk of meat, murmuring grace much like her townsfolk do amongst the dinner table.

As an infernal kind meant to be tread on by the living, it was natural for him to fear such --- though HE was the wolf that prowled among sheep. But these lambs were different, armed to the teeth with sharpened farming tools & sawed-off boomsticks, carrying torches of pure blue light which burnt his skin & blinded his eyes. The woman's abrupt call for communion instilled a momentary fear that broke him of his fanatical trance, in which he was left with no choice but to turn. Though he could attempt to flee, it was miles of forest between this tunnel & the shoreline, & the sudden breach from a collapsed tombstone may attract villagers upon night-watch with hounds. This was no time for cowardice, but strategically biding one's time.

As if 𝔻𝕖𝕒𝕥𝕙 greeted 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐌𝐚𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐧 herself, the figure was obscured by a mountain of crimson robes, tied together with barbed wire as if a morbid crown of thorns, & the skull of a horned deer enshrouding where his 'human' features SHOULD BE. The only indication he was covered with skin, & not bone like a true reaper, were how his bloodied hands furled tight at his sides. --- But something was wrong about them, they were torn... FLAYED. The outer layer WORN as if the abomination was a martyred apostle of God. Whatever infested in replacement of healthy muscle, a nauseating sight of green & purple tissue...

" 𝔅𝔢 𝔫𝔬𝔱 𝔞𝔣𝔯𝔞𝔦𝔡. " Osmund croaked in return, deceptively soft. For the human had EVERY REASON to be fearful of HIM --- infamously rumored to be the harbinger of an ancient serpent, THE ANTI-CHRIST. " 𝔚𝔥𝔶 𝔥𝔞𝔳𝔢 𝔶𝔬𝔲 𝔠𝔬𝔪𝔢? "

The sweetness of this doves' call was an allure he recognized fondly, kind-hearted & well-spirited. It was not a hostile cheer for execution, nor obliteration of heresy. If his veil did not shield what lingered behind the headwear of an ungulate, Eloisa would see that this Ganado was ATONISHED more than anything, seeing her for the first time.

｡° ⸻ @lasplaga.

Oh, if her father found her...

Heart pounding, Eloisa had found her way down into the tunnels beneath the cemetery, beneath the church. At first she had thought them to be catacombs;   burials for the dead they couldn't keep with their headstones any longer, burials for their ancestors. Some indents to the walls suggested she might've been half correct. The lack of abandonment the tunnel harbored saying otherwise.

She walks with her lantern clutched gently into one hand, hugged into her chest by the other. With how late in the night it was, Eloisa had forgone her veil, shoulders wrapped with a wool shawl to offer her more modesty than just her nightgown provided. The impulsivity of her search marked by careful, bare feet, also mark her intent to remain quiet should there be anyone else in the tunnels with her. It was clear they were still used. There were marks suggesting a freshly walked path, lack of cobwebs and, strangle, even a lack of rodents giving her the signs enough to keep her cautious. If only she could hear over the pounding of her heart drumming in her throat, her ears. If only she'd fought against her own damning curiosity.

There were sounds, though. Sounds that she had carefully listened to within the last few weeks, maybe even a month now. Moving, stirring in the Earth below, and certainly it couldn't have been the dead she cared so diligently for. Following until she's found a peculiar door in one of the mausoleums. Followed through to where she walked now, eyes wide and alert.

It's this very wide-eyed stare that lands on another figure further down the stretch of wood and Earth. At first Eloisa had simply thought it a trick of the shadows, her own dancing down the hall, but as she steps closer...   realization dawns that it is, in fact, another being. Her heart nearly leaps from her mouth and she has to swallow it down, replace it with some courage. Her lantern is held out in front of her, trying to reveal as much as she could with the dim firelight before stepping forward, stepping closer.

       ❝ Hello? ❞   Eloisa calls, her voice sweet but soft.

[taramikealson]

Just a sort of canon-ish Drabble that I got a little carried away with.

Set after the events in TVD excluding the “Hell” storyline in Season 8, the miracle babies, Caroline dating Alaric, Marcel taking the serum, and a few minor changes that are hopefully recognizable.

He could feel the irritation crawl along his skin like a serpent slithering itself up and around a tree. With the irritation, came anger.

Sometimes he enjoyed the challenge that came with others riffling with his plans. He has theories as to why he does but deep down he knows the true reason. His wolf. The thrill and excitement that came with the thought of the hunt. Predators such as wolves are born hunters who thrive on such games.

But, he is not only a wolf. No, he is a strategist- a remarkable one at that. There had been no plan, no despicable machination of his that hasn’t had a fail-safe.

Except for this one.

He had gotten himself into a situation where he finally became comfortable again after nearly ten centuries of running. And when he got comfortable, he began to lose his edge.

After successfully re-stabilizing the Quarter and allowing his brother to take a leading role in the peace treaty between the factions, New Orleans fell quiet. Of course, every so often there’d be a dispute between a couple of the factions that rose a concern within his elder brother, but that was always unavoidable. Werewolves, witches, and vampires alike have fought for centuries, that type of violence and warfare doesn’t automatically stop with a peace treaty. His brother may hope for that positive outcome but Klaus had always been a realist. And, unfortunately as he predicted, the peace was temporary.

“Niklaus, this is not a situation that we should ignore.” His brother’s voice sounded through the phone that he had pressed against his right ear.

No, this isn’t something we should ignore. He thinks, tentatively keeping his lips pressed together to keep himself from speaking of something that perhaps his brother shouldn’t know.

“Should Marcel make a regretful move, this treaty we’ve formed could very well be null and void.”

If Marcel were to make a move, it may start a gruesome war between the vampires and werewolves. If Klaus knew Marcel well enough, his former right-hand man is most likely planning something rather ill-conceived. He hasn’t theorized whether the harsh consequences will weigh the heaviest on either the vampires or werewolves, or even the whole Quarter all together. No matter what they may be, he’s most certain his brother won’t be quite pleased with what he has planned.

Although Klaus once held a tight hold over the vampires, it came to his attention that Marcel continued to be respected amongst both the day and nightwalker community. Thus, why in the time of tension, they clamber to him in search of a leader to choose the decisions that will benefit them. Which is why Klaus has chosen to keep the werewolves as an ally. The werewolves have proven to be loyal to Hayley and his daughter because they both are seen as part of the pack, which unnerves Klaus but gives him the relief that those wolves will protect his daughter. The connection that Hayley holds with those werewolves is bound to be manipulated, might as well be him to do so in a beneficial way. For both the stability of New Orleans and the safety of his daughter.

“Brother, do you understand me?”

His shoes crunch against the small layer of gravel underneath his feet.

“Yes.” Klaus tries his best to keep the irritation out of his voice but his answer still sounds short.

The hybrid immediately ends the call, noting that the conversion was to be continued in person. While pocketing his phone, he takes a few steps further along the rooftop and then steps up onto the ledge, giving him a grand view of the Quarter from a few buildings away.

A rough shuffle and a few voices could be heard from a little farther down the alley below him, but he didn’t much care about the happenings within the alley. From what he could hear, there were two men speaking in hushed tones, their heartbeats slower and more quiet indicating their undead nature. The fast and erratic heartbeat that was a few paces in front of them was a clear indication to Klaus of what the vampires below were planning to do.

His lips turned up slightly. He, himself, was feeling a bit peckish, perhaps he’ll grab a quick bite before he returns home to his disapproving older brother.

The vampires eventually closed the woman in, murmuring to her about where she was going and why she was out at such a time. He found it interesting that she stayed quiet. Ninety-nine percent of the time, the women would say something whether it be a plea to let them go or an angry curse.

Wanting to stay out of the house- more like away from his brother- for as long as he can, he turned his head to look down the alleyway. If this ends to be unentertaining, he’ll most likely grab a drink at Rousseau’s.

There, he could see both the vampires crowd into the blonde woman’s space. She has her back pushed up against the rough brick.

“I don’t think it’s very safe for a lady like yourself to be out here.” The vampire states before his eyes transform and fangs replace his blunt teeth. Usually, this is when the victims begin to scream or mutter that modern saying, oh my, God. But the woman doesn’t seem as scared as a normal human would be.

“You’re making a mistake.” She murmurs and Klaus’ eyes widen a hair, recognizing the voice. But before he can think of anything else, the woman is thrusting a wooden stake into the vampire’s stomach.

The vampire doubles over and the other vampire goes to attack the human but he’s no match for Klaus’ speed. Without a second thought, Klaus appears before the vampire, shoving him back before he could get to the woman. The other vampire has now pulled the stake from his torso and was looking to kill but Klaus turned toward him.

“Enough.”

The vampire pauses but scowls at him, a look of disgust and anger apparent in his eyes. His hand rises and points to the human. “She stabbed me! She’s a tourist! Tourists are fair game-,”

“And you would be in the right if it weren’t for her being under my protection.”

The vampire looks a little surprised at Klaus’ declaration and is about to protest once more but Klaus beats him to it.

“Now, I suggest you scamper off to Marcel before I’m tempted to rid you both of your hands.”

Both vampires share a glance and Klaus continues to stand his ground confidently. Eventually, the vampires figure out that it’s probably best for them to avoid any conflict with an Original, the Original Hybrid no less. Thus, they both give the human one last threatening look before flashing away into the night.

With the vampires disappearance, Klaus had began to turn around and quip something sarcastic but his whole expression changes when Caroline’s knees give out. His hands come out at vampiric speed as he catches her by her upper arms and kneels down as he slowly lowers with her.

It’s then that he sees her clearly. Her hair isn’t as perfect as she normally used to keep it, almost like she hasn’t had access to the proper equipment. Her clothes were a little wrinkled and two small dark red dots bled through her white shirt indicating that a bandaged wound was leaking. Concern now flooded through him as his eyes connected with her face. It was as beautiful as ever but there was a deep exhaustion and a line of stress etched into her forehead. Oh how his heart now aches. He thinks that he hasn’t felt as worried for someone as he is with Hope, but yet here he is, holding her just enough so she doesn’t slump over.

He now realizes that she hadn’t just lost most of her strength, but had been keeping herself from showing any weakness towards those vampires. If he wasn’t so concerned with her health, he’d be praising her for her stubborn strength.

“Caroline, look at me, love.” He aides her by tilting her head up gently by her chin. Her eyes are tired and look so vulnerable.

She looks as if she’s about to say something but Klaus shakes his head. “Conserve your strength. You’re alright, I’ve got you.” If those words were spoken to anyone else, they’d have a right mind to be worried but she seemed to feel relieved. He takes that as permission to pick her up, holding her from underneath her legs and shoulders.

His thoughts of what his brother will think of him are completely wiped away when he races to his home. It’s quiet but he knows his brother is lurking somewhere. He’s not quite concerned about Freya, Rebekah, and Hayley’s absences. Ever since the incident between the werewolves and vampires, Hayley has taken it upon herself to help with the remaining pack. Freya is most likely working on another miracle to save this city’s peace and it’s no surprise that Rebekah is with Marcel.

Klaus contemplates taking Caroline to a guest bedroom but the closest one to his is farther than he’d like so he figures that taking her to his bedroom won’t be the worst idea. At least he’d be able to keep a close eye on her for the time being.

He sets her down gently to the dark grey covers and takes a sharp turn into the bathroom. Klaus comes back out a few moments later with a wet washcloth and a couple different sizes of bandages. Caroline shifts a little and grazes her hand against the side of her torso where the wound was which seems to instantly sober her up. She lets out a small gasp and grimaces in pain. Her hand hovers over it as if it’d take the pain away. Klaus walks back over to her and sits on the edge of the bed, a few inches separating himself from her.

Extending his hand, his eyes travel up to her face seeking silently for any sign of rejection before pulling the edge of her shirt up to reveal a blood-soaked bandage. His hands slowly peel away the bandage and Klaus didn’t know what to expect but he hadn’t expect something quite as brutal as this. No, this was not a wound from an accident, this was intentional and by someone who was trying to harm Caroline. In fact, he was quite knowledgeable about this particular wound, or had been when he was human. By the sharp angles of the shape of the wound, he could tell it had been an arrow tip that pierced her skin. When he was human, Kol had been recklessly playing with his father’s bow and accidentally shot Finn in the shoulder. He had kept that arrow shaped scar for as long as he could remember. But just because Finn had survived, it only made Klaus more concerned.

By the tear of the wound, it seems to have been reopened due to stress. Although, he imagines that it’s good news that it’s not infected. Klaus is as gentle as he possibly can be when he pays the wet washcloth along her wound. She bites her lip hard and grasps his arm in a painful grip but he allows her to do so, hoping that if a fraction of his pain can dull hers, then so be it.

After a few moments, she slowly takes her hand away and he begins to clean around the wound.

“Klaus-,”

“Don’t.” He begins, “not now.”

His words come out a tad harsher than intended but she knows he’s just concerned and doesn’t know how to healthily deal with it like a normal human.

“I need you to listen just for once.”

“Caroline, let yourself rest before we speak of anything.”

She appreciated the notion that he valued her safety and well-being more than an explanation of why she showed up in his city as a human. But this couldn’t wait, for her safety and his own.

To truly get his attention, she places her hand on top of the one that was still cleaning the blood off her skin. It pauses its movements and he looks up to her.

“I- I didn’t want to do this. I didn’t want to use you for your contacts but I didn’t have anywhere else to go.” She hesitates to continue because after she asks, his involvement becomes concrete. Because she knows that he’ll help her. “I need a witch, someone powerful. Someone who can do a cloaking spell that can’t be broken by another witch.”

His face doesn’t express as much emotion as she thought it would but she doesn’t think that it’s a bad thing. He obviously seems to be contemplating something as his eyes bore into hers.

Setting aside the washcloth, he straightens out and takes a sleek black phone out of his jacket pocket. Without hesitation, he clicks a few times on the screen and places the phone against his ear.

“Freya, I need you at the Compound immediately.” With that, he puts his phone away and reaches for a bandage. Taking the plastic off, he softly places it over her wound, pressing along the outside, securing it to her skin without causing her pain.

His eyes refocus onto hers and she spots the anger that has now manifested within those blue orbs. “Who did this?” He asks and Caroline Knew she should have known better than to think the wound wouldn’t show any foul play.

“Silas.” Klaus’ lips part in confusion. For all he knows, Silas had been put in a safe and thrown down the quarry. God, things got complicated since he’d left. Much more complicated than she would have liked.

“For a while he pretended to be Stefan. We didn’t know because we thought he could only mess with a couple people’s perspectives but turns out he’s a doppelgänger.” She mentally cringes when remembering how Silas continuously terrorized her and her friends. She also remembers how Silas had made everyone think he was dead when Stefan killed him but had used it as an out to chalk up another plan that revolved solely around revenge. Against her.

Caroline begins to pull herself up into a sitting position so she’s resting against the headboard and is thankful when Klaus helps her. “Before you came back, we thought Stefan killed Silas but he’d used some last resort spell and it gave him the perfect out to recollect himself.”

“I guess he waited for a few years for things to settle down and for us to be off our guard.Damon was as happy as he could be considering Elena, Bonnie was back, and Stefan and I were getting back on good terms. Silas approached me on the last day of my Senior year.” Klaus notices as she bites her lip and looks down at her hands that have begun to twiddle in slight nervousness. “Silas made me think we were making some kind of deal. I leave my friends behind and never go back to Mystic Falls, or he kills me and everyone I care about. I chose to leave.”

Swallowing, her eyes darted from her hands to Klaus’ face to gauge what he might have been thinking but he wasn’t showing any sign other than that he was just listening to her, allowing her to pour whatever worries she had onto him.

“I don’t know if he thought that I would just settle down in some other place to get the opportunity to know my whereabouts while he tried to kill my friends but he called negotiations off when I skipped the third town I went to. So, he went after me.” When the single tear fell from her eye, she was a little surprised at how vulnerable she was allowing herself to be. “I told everyone that I was taking off for a little bit to go travel since I had finished college. I didn’t want them to try to find me and end up as one of Silas’ next victims.”

She pauses and wipes the stray tear away, trying to recollect herself. She must look like hell, crying would only make it worse. Caroline needed to man-up. There was no doubt that what Klaus had gone through with his father, or step-father, was worse.

Klaus leans forward and takes her hand into his, letting him drop a feather-light kiss along her knuckles. “You are safe. If I ever promise you anything, I will certainly promise you that.”

Caroline can’t help the small smile that forms on her face, knowing that he is being truly genuine. His lips turn up as well.

A small knock on the door interrupts them and Klaus rises from the bed. A taller dirty blonde woman stands in the doorway, analyzing both of them. Klaus crosses the room and pulls the woman further into the hallway, speaking to her in a hushed tone.

After a moment of back and forth conversation, they both advance into the room. Klaus pauses for a minute, watching as the woman approaches the side of the bed. She offers Caroline a reassuring smile that tells her she’s most likely a friend of Klaus’ or at least someone in his good graces.

“Caroline, right? I’m the older and wiser Mikealson sibling, Freya.” Caroline blinks for a moment and looks to Klaus in confusion. Although, she assumes what the woman, Freya, is saying must be somewhat true because all Klaus does is slightly roll his eyes in such a brotherly manner before turning towards the liquor tray.

“Niklaus tells me you need a little bit of a complex cloaking spell.” Caroline nods. Being that Freya must be a Mikealson, it is always safe to walk on eggshells around the ones she’s not very familiar with, no doubt the ones that she never knew about.

Freya turns towards the hybrid who was sipping his drink. “Will you fetch my grimoire and my herb bowl from the study, brother?” Klaus doesn’t seem all too eager to be ordered around but he does as asked and walks out of the room. Freya turns back towards Caroline and motions to the space when Klaus had sat before.

“May I?”

Caroline gives her a short nod and Freya smiles.

“Why are you being so nice to me? I thought all Mikealsons were kinda bordering on the ‘I don’t help anyone but my family’ ideology.” Caroline was going to be more subtle about it but she’s injured and doesn’t feel well, might as well rip off the band-aid.

Funnily enough, Freya laughs. “I’d agree with you but I’m quite aware of who you are.”

Now, that was surprising. Did Klaus say anything about her to his siblings? It didn’t seem like something he’d do. Her mouth opened to say something but she couldn’t find her words. It seems like Freya had an idea of what she was thinking and thought to correct her.

“I saw you when I entered my brother’s mind. If it weren’t under life and death circumstances I wouldn’t have done so. Trust me, I’ve already heard a mouthful from Niklaus.”

That made Caroline even a bit more nervous. Did this woman know everything about her and Klaus then? Had she watched some of their interactions? “How much do you know?” She asks.

“Just enough to know how important you are to my brother.”

That’s not cryptic at all. Caroline isn’t sure if that means Freya knows a little too much than she should or not but she imagines that she can’t push the woman any further than she’s willing so she shuts her mouth. And she also really doubts that Klaus is out of earshot, he can probably hear almost anything from the other side of the house so it’s best not to speak out of turn. Or maybe just not too much about him.

Speak of the devil, because he then walks through the door not even a few moments afterwards, carrying a grimoire and a small bowl with a few items in it that looked close to medical supplies.

He comes up behind his sister and sets her grimoire down on the bed and intentionally hands her the bowl, making her notice the extra supplies within. A sterile needle with surgical string and a couple other medical supplies. As he hands the bowl over to her, he murmurs, “perhaps you should also take a look at her wound, sister.”

By the look in his eye, she could tell he was a bit more concerned about the girl’s physical wound than the cloaking spell being down. Then again, both siblings knew that with all of the magic surrounding the Compound, it would take a highly skilled witch at least a couple hours to work through a location spell for anyone who was there.

Freya nods and takes the bowl from him. Klaus steps back and takes a seat directly across the room from the bed in one of the leather chairs, still allowing Caroline to see him.

The witch silently asks for permission to have a closer look at Caroline’s wound before pulling the new bandage away. Caroline watches Freya’s eyebrows furrow as she inspects the wound. Freya’s eyes look back up to her.

“Have you had this looked at before?”

Caroline shakes her head lightly. “But I tried to keep it closed.” Her lips turn up into a ghost of a smile. “You only learn so much in high school and college level health classes.” Freya understands the lightheartedness within the statement and offers her a smile.

“Well, it seems like you at least kept it clean.” Freya begins. “But I’ll need to stitch it up a little and possibly do a proper cleaning just in case. It’ll probably be easy to put you to sleep for that.”

Caroline’s eyebrows furrow at the lack of a surgical syringe. “Like a witchy anesthesia?”

Freya seems to enjoy her lack of magical knowledge and find amusement in it. “Something along those lines.”

“You’ve done it before, right?”

The witch lets out a small laugh. “Yes, but I can certainly do a demonstration.” Her head turns over her shoulder towards her younger brother but Klaus seems unimpressed.

It was a little reassuring seeing him naturally take up his brotherly role. She hadn’t ever really seen that side of him and never saw him actually interact with his siblings before. It was nice to know that even the Original Hybrid could act like a typical brother once in a great while.

“I promise it’s safe and when you wake, your wound will be patched right up.” Freya reassures and Caroline nods. She knows that Klaus will go just about as far as he possibly can to keep her safe which tells her that Freya is trustworthy. So, she doesn’t think about it too long before she murmurs, “okay.”

———————————————-

Upon breaking the fog of sleep, she doesn’t feel as weak as she had before Freya had put her to sleep which was a good sign. She begins to lift her head off the pillow and suddenly feels a warm hand help her sit up.

Looking over, she sees Klaus hovering beside her. “Easy, love. No need to tear your new sutures.”

His words remind her and she looks down, pulling her shirt up and the bandage aside to see her wound stitched up neatly with a strange light paste spread on top.

“My sister assured me that her little remedy,” he nods towards the paste on her wound, “should have healed you just enough to allow you to shower, if you wish to do so.”

The thought of a steaming hot shower is so appealing to her right now. “God, yes.” She sighs. It’s been so long since she’d been in any type of shower that wasn’t in a hotel or had some sort of modern day technology.

It seems Klaus enjoys her enthusiasm and takes it as a good sign for her health. “Would you like me to fetch my sister to help you?”

Caroline shakes her head. “No, it’s okay. I’m okay.” She silently thinks that should anything happen, he’ll most likely be listening in on her. It was a little creepy to think about but also made her feel a tad safer knowing that he’d always make sure she was safe.

He respects her choice and helps her stand. Waiting a moment to make sure she gets her bearings, he keeps a hand on the small of her back and leads her towards the entrance of the bathroom. She silently thanks him before he closes the door to a crack after her.

Looking around the bathroom, she’s not surprised about how lavish it is and how neat it’s kept. She never really took Klaus as the person who kept his personal space in disarray. As clean as it was, it still held the feeling of being used daily. One of the medicine cabinets was left cracked open a little, a small tin and classic shaving knife was left on top of a white cloth, and a bottle of cologne sat on the counter. If Caroline had possibly thought of a bathroom Klaus would ever call his, this is probably as close to it as she’d get.

Caroline decides that if she takes too long, Klaus may think something is wrong so she strips quickly and turns the water on. She’s pleased when it takes a whole couple seconds for the water to warm. Stepping into the shower, she sighs at how good it feels. The water runs down her, rinsing away all of the dirt and grime from the past couple days.

After getting her hair wet, she reads the minimalist labels on the three bottles that sat on the shower shelf. Thank God they weren’t the typical soaps that guys used nowadays. She shivers at the thought of two-in-one products. These were just simply packaged products that were obviously a little more on the manlier side of things but it’ll have to do.

Rubbing the shampoo and conditioner in her curls, she almost felt a weight lift off of her. Once she finished up basking in the warmth of the shower, she turned the dial off and stepped out. Grabbing the white towel, she wraps it around herself and tries to dry up as much as she can.

Upon walking back over to the bathroom counter she notices that she can’t exactly wear her old clothes but she does choose to wear her bra and underwear again. Hopefully she can ask Klaus to rile her up something for her to wear.

When she exits the bathroom, she immediately notices that the French doors that had led to the balcony outside were now closed with the drapes shut and the sliding door to the bedroom was almost shut all the way. She could hear a little movement in the next room over and assumed it was Klaus.

Stepping further into the bedroom, she sees that she doesn’t even need to ask Klaus for clothes because there’s a pair of yoga pants and t-shirt folded neatly on the bed. It was also accompanied with a hairbrush. Her heart warms at the thoughtfulness but then again, Klaus had always put thought behind a lot of things that involved her.

She’s quick to take the precious privacy that he allowed her and got dressed.

He finally emerged when she was finishing up brushing her hair. He held a plate of food and a glass of water. Caroline places the hairbrush down and into the drawer of the nightstand before scooting herself further back on the bed to give him enough space. Klaus sits down on the edge of the bed and places the glass of water on the nightstand, then handing Caroline the plate. At the sight of the scrambled eggs, bacon, and assortment of fruit on the plate, she was almost worried her stomach would growl. She doesn’t even remember when she last had a proper meal.

“Thank you.” She murmurs when he hands her a clean fork.

His smile is genuine and tells her that he doesn’t find helping her to be a chore. When he watches her carefully as she began to eat, she knew that if he’d done so a few years back she’d find it extremely creepy, but now she’s come to find out that it’s his way of communicating his reassurance. He’s silently telling her that he’s here, he’s going to protect her.

“I’ll leave you to eat. Perhaps get a few more hours of sleep, it’s only a quarter after six.” He states as he rises from the bed. His eyes drift for a moment down to her torso where her wound is covered by her shirt. Something in his eyes changes and he leans down close to her head. She pauses as his lips softly connect with her forehead. He pulls back a little and looks deep into her eyes.

“So long as I have a say in the matter, Silas will never get close enough to touch you again.” He then rises to his full length and exits the room.

——————————————

After eating and getting a couple more hours of sleep she’d ventured out of Klaus bedroom to find him again. When she did he was insistent about getting her at least a week’s worth of clothing for herself. She didn’t make a second objection, knowing that either way Klaus will get her clothing, it was just a matter of if she’d pick it out or have some compelled vampire do it. Thus he’d taken her to a few local shops. In typical guy fashion, Klaus hadn’t been too animated about watching her pick clothing out. In most of the stores, they’d parted ways- her towards anything that caught her eye and him to any empty seat he could find.

Caroline tried to be as time efficient as possible knowing that even a man who has waited a thousand years to break his curse, he still had his limits of patience. As much as she thought he dreaded chaperoning her, because he refused to have a possibility of another vampire thinking they could harm her, he still offered her considerate smiles. There were a few instances where she could feel the heat of his gaze as she walked out of the dressing room. She didn’t know what to make of it and brushed it aside.

This is hopefully the first and last time Caroline thinks this, but she is thankful that Klaus has the ability to compel vampires. He had a vampire, she forgot her name, retrieved Caroline’s brand new clothes and took them to the Compound so they could continue to stroll down a few of the streets.

If Caroline hadn’t spent the last couple years skipping from city to city, she thinks she may have been a little more amazed at the New Orleans architecture. But still, it was truly stunning. She liked that Klaus didn’t directly guide her but just allowed her to wander. Soon, they’d found themselves in a bar. The bartender that approached them seemed very familiar with Klaus and when he’d introduced her to Camille, the woman was welcoming.

It didn’t escape her notice how Camille had laid eyes on Klaus for a few seconds too long before walking off to let her and Klaus enjoy their drinks.

Caroline smiles a little at the situation. “You know, she likes you.”

His lips turn up and he sips his whiskey.

“You may not be aware of this, Caroline, but you are on the exceedingly short list of women who have rejected me.” His head turns towards her with a smug smirk. “You should feel lucky, most of those women are dead.”

Caroline rolls her eyes lightheartedly. “So lucky.” She breathes and looks away from him. His chuckle is rich and deep, making her crack a small smile.

“Quite a number of women find me charming, you surely had at one time.”

The statement brings out an instinct in her to say something snarky or quip something a little harsh but she chooses not to. Instead, her teeth catch her bottom lip as she lowers her gaze to the vodka soda. She doesn’t exactly know what to do. All she’s ever done with him was constantly impolitely reject him with statements about who he killed or what bad things he’s done.

Her eyes go up to see the bartender come out from the kitchen in the back. The girl gives them a small glance and Caroline offers her a friendly smile. Camille seems a little surprised by Caroline’s friendliness, almost as if she was expected to be ignored or brushed off. Caroline has no doubt that the crowd that Klaus would spend time with would be most certainly supernatural, thus their lack of interest in simple human servers. Although, Klaus seemed a little keen of her. Truthfully, she didn’t know what to think about it. If it was a few years ago, she would have rather drowned before admitting that she was a tad jealous when it came to Klaus, but she was older and more mature. So, yeah. Maybe she felt a little jealous that the girl’s feelings towards Klaus could be mutual. But she also wasn’t going to be spiteful of it.

Stirring the small straw that floated in her untouched drink, she murmurs, “If you want to go talk to her, there’s nothing stopping you.” Her voice is as neutral as she can make it.

Even now without her vampire senses, she could still feel his fiery gaze in the side of her head. He lets out a low chuckle.

“Camille is a close friend of my family. She’s sacrificed quite a bit to aid my family’s survival and I’ve repaid her loyalty with protection.” He begins. “Our relationship may have developed into somewhat of a complicated friendship since she’s known me, but that is simply it.”

Caroline turns her head towards him and his eyes are as clear blue as ever. “But by no means do I wish to be in anyone else’s company other than yours.”

There’s a brief moment between them where both of their solid barriers were dissolved and their eyes just simply met. They said nothing but their eyes communicated plenty. But, that moment was only brief.

The bell over the door to the bar chimes when it opens, the noise from the street could be heard for a moment before the door closes again. Both Klaus and Caroline are shaken out of their moment when a voice chimes.

“Now, this is interesting.”

Caroline is a little taken aback even though she should have expected to come across another Original. Hell, she wouldn’t doubt that the whole Mikealson clan was crawling around New Orleans at this point. It seemed to be almost like a hub for them.

Klaus is the first to turn in his seat and greet his sister. “Sister, a bit of a surprise to see you on this side of the river. Has Marcel finally bored you enough?” His tone has dramatically changed from the genuine one before to something more smartass-y.

When Caroline scoots on her stool a little to look more properly at the female Original, she notices how annoyed Rebekah gets because of Klaus’ comment.

“No, I came to visit my niece. Whom, in which, has noticed your lack of presence.” Rebekah then gives Caroline a disapproving glare. “But I think I know why.”

Klaus sighs quietly and Rebekah is about to say something but pauses. Her eyes scan Caroline carefully. After a moment, her eyes widen and she flashes towards Caroline, aggressively yelling, “who the bloody hell gave you the cure!?”

Caroline stumbles out of her stool as fast as she can and takes a few steps back. Rebekah is about to get into her face again but Klaus zips in front of her, blocking her way to Caroline.

“I-,” Caroline doesn’t know what to say or how to even start to calm down the Original. She’s not as strong as she once was. One little neck snap and she’ll be done.

“Rebekah.” Klaus growls in warning, earning a glare from his sister before her gaze goes back to the blonde.

“Why do you get the choice? You, of all people?”

Caroline is beyond grateful that no one else was in the bar because she’s sure that there could have been a bloodbath if there were.

Klaus is about to say something but Rebekah beats him to it.

“How is it that you get to have a normal life?”

Those words seemed to trigger something in Caroline. Something emotional.

“You think I want this? Do you think I chose to have a normal life where I’d meet some regular guy, marry him, have a few kids, and work for the rest of my life?” Rebekah frowns and Klaus turns his head just enough to look at her. “I didn’t. I don’t want that life and I didn’t choose to become human again. So, blame me all you want for being a bitch to you or whatever, but don’t blame me because you didn’t get the human life you’ve always wanted.”

It seems like Caroline’s words have an effect on Rebekah because she shrugs her brother’s hand away from her and takes a step back. Caroline can’t exactly know for sure but she thinks that maybe Rebekah can somewhat relate to her. Rebekah had always wanted to be human but was stuck as a vampire. Now, Caroline wants to be a vampire but is stuck as a human.

When Rebekah takes that step back and Klaus is sure she’s not going to try to attack Caroline again, he fully turns his body towards the blonde human. She can’t gauge exactly what he’s thinking but it could have been a cross between surprise and sympathy.

The younger Original looks almost a little guilty when she casts a glance towards Caroline but instead doesn’t say anything before flashing away. As the light breeze wafts over them from Rebekah’s exit, Klaus takes a step forward towards her.

“Caroline.”

She shakes her head. “I-,” her eyes shut for a moment. “Please don’t make me talk about it.”

She fully expects Klaus to struggle with her request but he quickly proves her wrong and gives her a short nod in understanding.

————————

Caroline’s fingers drum silently against the cold metal of the railing she’s stood behind. The city has now been cascaded in darkness but people still mull about on the street beneath her. The very idea of the liveliness of this city brings a smile to her face. The neon lights of shops and street lamps were now lit up to shine down on the passerbyers below, their drunken ramblings slightly muffled due to her human hearing.

She finds that Klaus was right. There was something about this city that not only attracted the party-seeking humans, but also the darker creatures who lurked in the shadows. She may not be a vampire any longer but that doesn’t mean the connection she holds with the darkness was shaken. There is not just history in this city, it is the home of the supernatural. Caroline bets that if she were still a vampire, she could have spotted a couple dozen supernaturals that had walked by in the past thirty minutes she's been up on Klaus’ balcony.

She only hopes it doesn’t attract a different kind of supernatural.

Out of the corner of her eye, she can sense movement just as a figure joins her. Their hand grasps the railing casually and when they sigh, a white cloud escapes their lips from the continuing dropping temperature of the night. He doesn’t attempt to make a move to slide closer to her and she appreciates the space he’s giving her, along with the time of silence.

As they stood in silence, listening to the noises of the city before them, she could recall how nervous she used to get during long periods of silence. She had always tried to fill them up with mindless chatter or something to that nature. But now? She finds that she sort of enjoys it. His presence may be a little nerve-wracking at times of tension but, as of late, Caroline seems to feel at ease knowing he’s just right there- not totally offering her comfort but the reassurance of his presence.

“You’re cold.” His voice murmurs smoothly through the air. It’s only then that she notices the goosebumps that trek along her arms. The light breeze flows around them once more, reminding Caroline that she doesn’t have as much tolerance to the weather as she once had when she was a vampire.

Her eyes lifted towards him to watch as he slid the casual high-collared blazer off just to then gently place it over her shoulders. Caroline’s arms cross and grasp the sides of the coat, pulling it closer to her body before offering him a smile in thanks. Although his eyes seemed to be light, there was a hint of concern to be seen.

“Caroline, what aren’t you telling me?”

The words surprise her, not because he’s asking them, but because he’s asking them now. She should have felt lucky that he hadn’t asked her earlier or even within the first ten minutes she was in New Orleans.

A lot. She thinks.

When she doesn’t speak, he sighs and shifts closer to her.

“You should be aware that I will do everything in my power to keep you safe, but I can’t very well do it if I don’t know any of the details.” He pauses for a moment before continuing. “I understand that these past few years haven’t been as undemanding as you’ve hoped, but you need to tell me something- anything- so that I can help you.”

Caroline contemplates just shrugging it off and telling him there’s nothing to talk about but that would be a lie. A big lie. She came to him for help, slept in his bed, and ate his food. It would have been foolish of her to think that she could take full advantage of his protection and not have to give him a detailed explanation. But, she doesn’t know exactly how to start and how to proceed. There are specifics that he doesn’t want him to know about, but if she were to leave them out, she’s sure that he is intelligent enough to put a few pieces together, or at least tell that she’s leaving a few key details out. She had two options. Either she tells the truth or she omits, telling him that she doesn’t have the courage to give him an explanation. The last option would be the easier route, but one that would most likely drive a wedge between them, thus possibly compromising their safety.

If she were younger, she would have grappled for a third option. But she was older and more mature now. Even though the prospect of what Klaus may think of her afterwards held a sizable weight over her head, she knew that she couldn’t avoid telling Klaus the truth.

“Silas isn’t just chasing me because I helped in the plan to kill him.” She breathes.

Klaus’ eyes blink in surprise, as if he’s shocked that she’s actually opening up to him. But he allows her to continue.

“When you came back to Mystic Falls, I didn’t tell you the whole truth about what happened with Silas. When Stefan lured Silas outside, I was left alone on the far side of the boarding house. Someone had grabbed me and I acted on instinct because I knew Damon, Elena, and Qetsiyah were in the parlor, so I assumed it was Silas.” Caroline looks away from the Original and out towards the night sky. “It turned out to be Amara.” Her eyes slowly drifted back over to him to gauge his reaction. He stood still, eyes just taking her in and processing the information that she was offering him.

“Silas’ one true love.” Her eyes hold guilt and a sadness within them as she remembers the events that occurred nearly five years ago. “She was innocent and I killed her.”

A stray tear begins to form in her eye and bubbles over, making a thin wet trail down her cheek. Klaus’ hand doesn’t move as fast as it normally does when he gently wipes the tear from her face, making sure not to make any moves that she wouldn’t be able to reject. The heat of his palm against her jaw and the pressure it holds gives her an odd sense of comfort that she wouldn’t have expected.

“I don’t know how he found out after he faked his death, but he-,” she begins to struggle to speak, the emotions beginning to take advantage of her. “He approached me in my dorm one day and I’m not sure if he planned it or not, but Tyler happened to walk in.”

Caroline lets out a small exhale to try to keep her emotions slightly underwraps but she can’t help the couple tears that escape her eyes. Turning her head away, she feels a shade of guilt run through her. “He- he killed Tyler right in front of me.” She also tried to explain how after Silas left her with his ultimatum, she had to find a place to bury Tyler and come up with a story for his absence, but she thinks she would have totally broken down if she spoke another word. It didn’t take much longer than a couple seconds before his arms had brought her closer to him and she didn’t shy away from pushing her head into his shoulder and wrapping her arms around his torso.

The heat radiating off of him almost felt like it began to wrap around her, comforting her in her grief. Klaus kept one arm around her back and another in the hair on the back of her head. His head craned down and he gently pressed his lips to her temple. He doesn’t say anything, but he doesn’t have to. She feels the most safe she has ever felt in the past two years in his arms. The sandalwood cologne fills her lungs when her nose digs deeply into his shirt, surely ruining it with her tears but she's not too worried about that right now.

After a few long moments of being wrapped up in his body, he halts the slow brushing of her hair that she had just noticed he was doing. Klaus’ head pulls away to get a better look at her and she tilts her head up to do the same.

“Come. Let’s get you inside.”

Caroline nods and lets Klaus guide her back into his bedroom. He shuts the French doors behind him and closes the cream drapes, the sounds of the city now greatly muffled by the extra barrier. Caroline walks over to the bed. Once she’s sat down, Klaus is already over by the fireplace and starting the fire. She tries to catch her breath. Although she wasn’t sobbing, she still finds it hard to regain herself. A crackle comes from the fireplace and when Klaus stands from his crouched position, she can see the small flames of the fire begin to lick at the wood inside. In no time, Klaus is right there, taking the coat from her shoulders and silently encouraging her to lay down on the bed. She pulls the soft covers over herself as Klaus’ eyes rove over her.

“Will you stay?” The words escape her lips before she can understand what she had said.

Klaus studies her for a moment but his attention is pulled towards the sliding doors that are cracked open just enough for him to see his brother. His brother’s presence now reminds him of the factions meeting they were supposed to attend tonight in light of the recent events between the witches, werewolves, and vampires, but Caroline is in a sensitive emotional position. Although he finds it surprising for her to feel comforted by him, he doesn’t feel as inadequate for the job as he would with anyone else. He decides then what he will do. New Orleans can wait. If anything, his brother is more than equipped with handling tonight’s meeting without him.

His head turns back towards Caroline. The deep blue of his eyes already indicate his answer to her and she slides to the other side of the bed to give him room. Klaus toes off his boots and just before he lays down, his eyes glance up to see the sliding door closing all the way and his brother’s footsteps retreating away.

When he’s settled onto his back, Caroline quickly tucks into his side. The move isn’t unexpected with her trying to seek a source of comfort. He slowly pulls his arm out from under her and instead wraps it around her body, placing his hand just above her hip as she buries herself into his ribcage.

Klaus lays there for a while, listening to the changes in her heart beat and studying the way it slows when she falls asleep. He only allows himself to shut his eyes when he hears his brother return an hour later, feeling more comfortable being asleep when at least one other Original is awake. He won’t take any chances with Caroline. He won’t risk losing her.

-------------------------------------------------

When Caroline wakes up that next morning, she isn’t shocked that she’s alone and the place where he had once been was vacant of his body heat. She never assumed Klaus to be the type of man to sleep in by any means being as paranoid as he usually was but it had seemed like he’d been gone for quite a while. As much as she wants to think that maybe he had some weird bout of inspiration to paint or do whatever artistic thing he prided himself with, she has the better judgement to know it was business related.

From what she could tell, he and his brother were the main one’s calling the shots in the French Quarter. Not unexpected, considering Klaus is, well, Klaus. But he has subtly mentioned from time to time whilst they were out yesterday that there was some tension between a few of the supernatural factions. Caroline imagines that it's more of a regular occurrence and something that comes with ‘ruling’ (Klaus’ words, not her’s) over the supernatural community within New Orleans. Thus, it doesn’t take a genius to understand Klaus must have a decent amount of business to conduct most of the time. She wouldn’t be all too surprised if he was out handing threats out like flyers first thing in the morning.

The mere idea that Klaus has probably been awake for at least a couple hours now prompted her to get motivated for the day. Although she didn’t directly have any plans other than possibly not getting her throat ripped out by Rebekah, she still needed to eat.

It didn’t take her long to get dressed and make her way out of Klaus’ bedroom. But when she made it to the hallway outside of Klaus’ study, she was a little torn on what she should do next. Klaus hadn’t exactly shown her around the Compound so she really only knows the way in and out of the Compound from his living quarters.

There were a few doors on each side of the hallway. She chose the route she was more familiar with and decided to start there. Fearing that she might be interfering in his family’s privacy, she only ventured into the rooms that were already open. She first found a parlor room with dark red couches and a small wet bar, next she found a very extensive library where she read a few of the titles of the books. Some were familiar and some were totally unknown to her, but she imagined that she wouldn’t know any books that were written in other languages like the French one she decided to flip open. After finding a few first editions, she thought it best to move on and keep her human, clumsy hands away from books that could be worth more than a couple thousand dollars. When exiting the library and finding the courtyard, she climbed down the stairs and got lucky when she found the kitchen.

Walking over to the fridge, she crosses her fingers that she doesn’t just see blood bags. Upon opening the fridge, she’s satisfied to find a tray of eggs, milk carton, a drawer dedicated to fruits and vegetables, a couple bottles of water, some condiments in the door slots, and a couple other assorted food items that were relatively healthy. She would do just about anything right now to satisfy her sweet tooth that she woke up with but she’s also grateful that the Mikealson’s even have food in general, so she’ll take what she can get. So, Caroline takes the grape jelly out of the door slot and then goes to search for bread. Surely if they had food in the fridge, they had to have some non-refrigerated items too, right?

Looking through a couple of the cabinets, she mentally notes which cabinet held the plates, glassware, coffee grounds, and such. She finally finds the bread and limits herself to two slices. She may be hungry but she’s also human.

Grabbing a plate and spotting the toaster conveniently placed on the counter next to the coffee machine, she places the slices of bread inside.

In that moment, she thinks of the simple weekday mornings just before school. Those so easy and simple times where she had convinced herself could be the worst for her. How wrong she was. Now, she misses those mornings where all she had to worry about was boys and if she was going to pass that week’s pop quiz. In fact, she can even say she misses the times where the worst that could happen was an unexpected visit from a particularly moody Original hybrid in which had a 50/50 percent chance of ending with a pair of toxic hybrid teeth in someone’s throat.

Now, Caroline realizes that Klaus must have either grown to enjoy watching her and her friend’s failed attempts to end his life or preferred to use ‘kid-gloves’ because if he were to kill any of her friends, he knew better than to think she’d ever forgive him. Either way, she feels somewhat lucky in an odd way that he hadn’t reacted as badly as she now knew he could have. Unlike Klaus, Silas had no attraction or reason to extend any amount of mercy towards her, which was extremely terrifying. Silas may be mortal now but he is also a very powerful witch. One that was able to keep up with her when she was still a vampire.

The ding of the toaster brings her out of her reverie. Caroline reaches into the toaster to carefully pull the slice of bread out. The front of her finger grazes the hot metal inside and she pulls it out as quickly as she can on instinct. “Damnit!” She whispers heatedly, knowing there were other vampires within the house. In the process of taking a step back as the pain still sizzles underneath her skin, she could see something in her peripheral vision. Turning her head quickly, she yelps.

“Shit!” She curses, jumping slightly in her own skin when she finds an unexpected figure in the entranceway of the kitchen.

A smirk graces his features and a deep chuckle escapes his lips.

“God, you can’t do that. I can’t exactly sense when you’re creepily stalking me anymore.”

He doesn’t respond but she thinks he gets the point. Klaus walks over to her and easily deposits both slices of toast onto the plate she had out. Fishing out a butter knife from one of the drawers and opening the lid to the jam.

“I’d like to take you somewhere.” His eyes glance over to her as she watches him spread the jam over the slices of toast before placing the used knife into the stainless steel sink. He then slides the plate closer to her and walks back over to the fridge to put the jar of jam away.

Caroline takes the plate and takes a couple steps over to the island counter where a couple stools sat. She sits and takes a bite out of her toast. “Now?”

“As soon as you are ready.” He then grins at her, clearly hiding something from her. “Although, I recommend you wear something you don’t mind getting dirty.”

----------------------------

They’ve been in the car maybe five minutes before Caroline began to question him on where he was taking her.

“Seriously?”

His eyebrow rises and he glances towards her with lighthearted eyes that tell her he was certainly enjoying her irritation. Caroline just resorts to glaring at him but it doesn't hold nearly the same weight that it had a few years ago when she’d glare at him then and he clearly knows it. Klaus’ eyes return to the road and Caroline sighs, settling further into the leather seat of his luxury SUV.

“If you can’t tell me where we’re going, can you at least tell me something?” She asks, thinking that maybe he would want to play the ‘hint game.’

A sly smirk puts the edge of his lips up. Instead of giving into her, he decides to veer off into a different topic altogether.

“Do you recall the period of time when Alaric helped train the doppelganger in the ridiculous hope that it would somehow keep her safe from my siblings and myself?”

Caroline is a little taken aback by his question. Obviously, she remembers. Elena had once tried to get her to join her and Alaric. What surprised her about it though was that he even knew about it in the first place because Elena had thought they’d kept it all ‘hush hush’ specifically so he wouldn’t find out. Although, Caroline now thinks that he would most likely know from pulling the information out of Tyler or having a hybrid tail them once in a while. Both scenarios are equally as realistic.

The Land Rover slows and turns down a dirt path that is cascaded with tall trees. Clearly, he was taking her somewhere in the countryside.

“Yeah, but I don’t see how that’s relevant unless you plan to drag me out into the middle of the woods and kill me.” She turns her head to look at him. “Because I will put up one hell of a fight.”

His chuckle is low but not in a dark way. The blue in his eyes gets a little brighter when he parks the car at the edge of a large clearing. There’s a few fallen logs and if Caroline squints just enough, she can make out the shape of a couple makeshift tents a couple hundred yards away. She feels the Original turn towards her after shutting the car off and she looks his way.

“Trust me, sweetheart, if I were to make you my victim, I wouldn’t need to take you to the Bayou.” The tone in his voice is as casual as if he were talking about dinner plans and the smile he dotes is edging on the side of diabolical.

She raises a brow and turns away from him as she opens the passenger side door. “Because that makes me feel reassured.” Caroline knows his lips tug higher up into his cheeks, enjoying her slight sarcasm and their back-and-forth banter. Sometimes she thinks he likes making her angry, she can’t really think of a reason why, but he seems to always draw that emotion out of her at times when he doesn’t really have to.

Upon getting out, she notices he rounds the back of the car and opens the tailgate. Klaus pulls two objects out and closes the tailgate before meeting her a few paces away from the black vehicle. Her eyes widen a hair and her eyebrows rise dramatically when she sees what he took out for the back of his SUV.

He holds two long medieval looking swords, one in each hand. Stepping up to her, he readjusts his grip on one of the swords and holds it by the blade, offering it to her by the leather wrapped handle. She physically hesitates, clearly confused about what his end goal was.

Klaus seems amused by her reaction and tips his head to the side.

“Go on, it won’t bite you.”

Her eyes shift from the sword in his hands and his eyes. Slowly, she grasps the handle of the sword and Klaus lets go. Caroline struggles for a moment, the sword being heavier than she had anticipated. Not knowing what to do with it, she lets the end of it sit on the ground.

On the other hand, Klaus holds his sword by the handle and holds it out diagonally in the air.

“Strike it.” He orders.

Caroline does nothing except look at him strangely before rolling her eyes. “Seriously? You brought me out here for your own amusement? Newsflash, I’m not exactly some minion you can drag out to weird places and play ‘swords’ with.”

Klaus sighs and lowers the sword down, expertly thrusting the point into the grassy ground.

“This is no game, love. As much as I’d like to be showing you my city, I have a vested interest in your safety and to keep you protected. From what I have come to realize within the past years in residing in New Orleans, I can’t be in multiple places at once. Thus, why we are here.” His empty hand motions along as he speaks and his eyes glance around the clearing at it’s mention. “I’d like to be able to say that I will be by your side at all times, but that would simply be false. Which is why I think it is pertinent and rather of astronomically great import that you have some ability to defend yourself.”

Caroline glances down at the sword in his hand. “With a sword?” She asks with a stifled laugh, almost amused by the thought of using a sword in an actual realistic fight.

“No, but it gives you a starting place and the ability to learn how to use spare objects as weapons.”

Klaus then raises the sword again and nods. “Now, strike it.”

[hellenic-reconstructionism]

Worshiping Selene

Pottery depicting Selene from theoi.com

Selene, or Mene, is the goddess of the moon frequently invoked in spells and prayers recorded in the Greek Magical Papyri, especially as a goddess overlapping roles with Artemis and Hekate. However, unlike Artemis and Hekate she is not a virgin goddess. She was worshipped in the sanctuary of Ino at Thalamae and in the agora marketplace of Elis. She was worshipped in conjunction with the Anatolian moon god Mēn in the Hellenistic kingdom of Pontus.

Bust of Mēn from Wikimedia Commons

Historically accurate offerings for her:

Libations (wine, milk, honey, water, oil -- the regular)

Meat (like most theoi)

Juniper wood

Cretan storax

For spells:

For ‘good’ ends: Uncut frankincense, bay, myrtle, fruit pit, stavesacre, cinnamon leaf, and kostos mixed with Mendesian wine and honey and made into pills

Not gonna list the ‘bad’ ends since it uses animal parts which is complicated and controversial (some plants were named like animal parts)

Epithets

Αιγλη (Aiglê) - Gleaming, Radiant

Πασιφαε (Pasiphae) - All-Shining

Ειλειθυια (Eileithyia) - Aiding/Relieving (in Childbirth)

Homeric Hymn to Selene:

"And next, sweet voiced Mousai (Muses), daughters of Zeus, well skilled in song, tell of the long-winged Mene (Moon) [Selene]. From her immortal head a radiance is shown from heaven and embraces earth; and great is the beauty that ariseth from her shining light. The air, unlit before, glows with the light of her golden crown, and her rays beam clear, whensoever bright Selene having bathed her lovely body in the waters of Okeanos (Oceanus), and donned her far-gleaming raiment, and yoked her strong-necked, shining team, and drives on her long-maned horses at full speed, at eventime in the mid-month: then her great orbit is full and then her beams shine brightest as she increases. So she is a sure token and a sign to mortal men. Once Kronides (Cronides) [Zeus] was joined with her in love; and she conceived an bare a daughter Pandeia, exceeding lovely amongst the deathless gods. Hail, white-armed goddess, bright Selene, mild, bright-tressed queen! And now I will leave you and sing the glorious of men half-divine, whose deeds minstrels, the servants of the Mousai, celebrate with lovely lips.”

Orphic Hymn to Selene:

"To Selene (Moon), Fumigation from Aromatics. Hear, goddess queen (thea basileia), diffusing silver light, bull-horned, and wandering through the gloom of night. With stars surrounded, and with circuit wide night's torch extending, through the heavens you ride: female and male, with silvery rays you shine, and now full-orbed, now tending to decline. Mother of ages, fruit-producing Mene (Moon), whose amber orb makes night's reflected noon: lover of horses, splendid queen of night, all-seeing power, bedecked with starry light, lover of vigilance, the foe of strife, in peace rejoicing, and a prudent life: fair lamp of night, its ornament and friend, who givest to nature's works their destined end. Queen of the stars, all-wise Goddess, hail! Decked with a graceful robe and amble veil. Come, blessed Goddess, prudent, starry, bright, come, moony-lamp, with chaste and splendid light, shine on these sacred rites with prosperous rays, and pleased accept thy suppliants' mystic praise."

“Prayer to Selene for any spell” from the PGM (slightly adapted):

“Come to me, O Beloved Mistress, Three-faced

Selene; kindly hear my Sacred Chants;

Night's Ornament, young, bringing Light to Mortals,

O Child of Morn who ride upon the Fierce Bulls,

O Queen who drive your Car on Equal Course

With Helios, who with the Triple Forms

Of Triple Graces dance in Revel with

The Stars. You're Justice (Dike) and the Moirai’s Threads:

Klotho and Lachesis and Atropos

Three-headed, You're Persephone, Megaira,

Allekto, Many-Formed, who arm your Hands

With Dreaded, Murky Lamps, who shake your Locks

Of fearful Serpents on your Brow, who sound

The Roar of Bulls out from your Mouths, whose Womb

Is decked out with the Scales of Creeping Things,

With Pois'nous Rows of Serpents down the Back,

Bound down your Backs with horrifying chains

Night-Crier, Bull-faced, loving solitude,

Bull-headed, You have eyes of bulls, the voice

Of dogs; You hide your forms in shanks of lions,

Your ankle is wolf-shaped, Fierce dogs are dear

To you, wherefore they call you Hekate,

Many-named, Mene, cleaving air just like

Dart-shooter Artemis, Persephone,

Shooter of deer, night shining, triple-sounding,

Triple-headed, triple-voiced Selene

Triple-pointed, triple-faced, triple-necked,

And goddess of the triple ways, who hold

Untiring flaming fire in triple baskets,

And you who oft frequent the triple way

And rule the triple decades, unto me

Who'm calling you be gracious and with kindness

Give heed, you who protect the spacious world

At night, before whom Daimons quake in fear

And Gods immortal tremble, Goddess who

Exalt men, you of many names, who bear

Fair offspring, bull-eyed, horned, mother of gods

And men, and nature, mother of all things,

For you frequent Olympos, and the broad

And boundless chasm you traverse. Beginning

And end are you, and you alone rule all.

For all things are from you, and in you do

All things, eternal one, come to their end.

As everlasting band around your temples

You wear great Kronos' chains, unbreakable

And unremovable, and you hold in

Your hands a golden scepter. Letters 'round

Your scepter Kronos wrote himself and gave

To you to wear that all things stay steadfast:

Subduer and subdued, Mankind's subduer,

And Force-subduer; Chaos, too, you rule.

Hail, Goddess, and attend your epithets,

I burn for you this spice, O Child of Zeus,

Dart-shooter, Heav'nly one, Goddess of harbors,

Who roam the mountains, Goddess of crossroads,

O Nether and Nocturnal, and Infernal,

Goddess of dark, Quiet and frightful one,

O you who have your meal amid the graves,

Night, Darkness, Broad Chaos: Necessity

Hard to escape are you; You're Moira and

Erinys, Torment, Justice and Destroyer,

And you keep Kerberos in chains, with Scales

Of serpents are you dark, O you with hair

Of Serpents, Serpent-girded, who drink blood,

Who bring Death and Destruction, and who feast

On hearts, Flesh eater, who devour Those Dead

Untimely, and you who make grief resound

And spread madness, come to my sacrifices,

And now for me do you fulfill this matter.”

Sources:

https://www.theoi.com/Titan/Selene.html#Cult

The Greek Magical Papyri in Translation by Hans Dieter Betz

Strabo 12.3.31

[dev-the-dm]

Creature: Rimepelt Werewolf

"...Even the most trained and knowledgeable lycanthrope hunters cannot seem to agree on how a rimepelt wolf comes to be, but it is generally assumed that these creatures are made in arctic locations where food is scarce and hunting lycanthropes may resort to consuming frostbitten or even magical prey. Some suggest that it was cannibalism of frozen lycanthrope bodies that have led to the creation of these beasts, but none have come forward with the courage to venture towards known rimepelt lairs and confirm this theory...

- Allis Remeraud, lycanthrope hunter and wolfsbane sage, "Before the Moon Falls", chapter four: "Known Mutations".

Bluehide hunters. Rimepelt werewolves are a mutated form of the standard werewolf that has been imbued with powers of cold. These creatures are often found in cold, frozen areas, such as tundras, snowy mountaintops or even on frozen seas. Their innate freezing temperature makes them a tougher and more feared predator, as they employ their inner freeze to bite creatures, their icy saliva leaving frostbitten wounds. Their claws and pelts are tipped with ice crystals that freeze-burn on impact, and their eyes glow a ghostly white.

Pack creatures. Rimepelt werewolves live in groups much like normal werewolves do, but not every werewolf in an arctic pack may be a rimepelt. The distribution of rimepelts seems arbitrary, and suggests that the werewolves themselves do not have any control over who may be a rimepelt. Lower-ranked members of a pack may be rimepelts, although any werewolf that becomes a rimepelt (or has been since they were bitten by another lycanthrope) is more cruel and tougher than their standard counterparts, which often means they rise in rank quickly.

Friends and companions. Rimepelt werewolves are often singular amongst their pack, and they work together with normal werewolves almost daily. Additionally, a rimepelt pack that is situated in freezing regions may employ the help of captured polar bears or winter wolves, they may strike deals with bheur hags, or they may agree to work alongside frost giants or yetis when necessary. Rimepelt wolves despise white dragons, and often hunt these serpents or remorhazes.

[varldsormr]

It's ever the same with them. This poke and pull, cat and mouse game running circles around each other. Thorne nipping at his heel like a crow would a wolfs' tail, vying for reaction only to cackle that clear rung song of his laugh and slip away from the bite, tailfeathers pristine. You'd think it'd be a tired repetiore with the time they've known one another, centuries of meeting like this at every coast of the world - yet the devil had only ever seemed to grown more incessant in age, more daring fore the flash of fangs, and though he'd like to claim he ever got wiser, he's never failed to play is part. He should perhaps be embarrassed at how well it still worked, how well the other's mischief still riles him with singular ease, and spurs him to pursuit.

In truth, he is... uncertain, what he'd do if he ever caught him. Some days, he's not sure he's the one giving chase.

"...Hm. Perhaps not." The serpent condedes onto the topic of mer after Thorne's countered question and insinuating glint gives him pause in his ministrations, a string of memory come only belatedly to mind replaying scenes of the past (on the road, by the fire, in an inn--) where his venturous companion had quite detailedly spoken of his off-shore engagements over a bottle of whatever dubious liquid they'd been able to get their hands on. He does not require anything further to recollect the rest. There are many fish at sea, indeed, and he's wont to suspect most of them would recognise the other by name. Him amongst them, as it were.

He meets Thorne's gaze as the man's eyes drift up at him, painted lids to his own half parted, the frames of their respective figures only inches apart. They're close enough again that he can just barely make the fore-offered warmth of the other's bodyheat within range, a promise of hellish blaze contained beneath that sleek burgundy suit; far enough that it feels out of reach, at distance while the air remains cold between them. He sees a question at the tail end of the tiefling's words, an unspoken expectancy, and there's a part of him, somewhere, that waits for him to ask, one more time-- But nothing comes. And Jormun does not answer.

"Not keen on rolling me back into the sea at the end of the night?" He huffs in humor, occupying himself by stepping vaguely aside to dress with the trousers while Thorne recounts the known attendance thus far, brushing away as much of the sand from his legs and feet as he could manage (there is always, inevitably, some). Most of the names get a short grunt of acknowledgement, familiar faces and those slightly more stranger pairing in his mind. Valerie would be welcome, in turn. Sanji, likewise, though the mention of his father recieves a slight scrunch of his nose. He does not comment on the englishman. Reaching for the black knit sweater, however--

"You've spoken with Euan?"

Boy, that was an impeccably timed dodge, huh? One day he's gonna stop doing it. Not the riling the ol' sea master up, but the ducking and slithering out of reach, giggling like a kid who gets away with petty theft. One day he's just gonna stand there and let himself be ensnared in the other's swinging hook, see what comes of it. Not a bad way to go, potentially, and the sad devil has definitely considered it many a time. Dying for a cause is a noble thing, isn't it. It just never fails to amuse him just how worked up Jormun gets over the smallest things, adding kindling to the fire of Thorne's self-imposed torture of imagining a day he's finally allowed through that gate. You'd think someone armed to the teeth like that would need a meat tenderiser to feel something but instead he was so delightfully sensitive to the tiniest, oldest tricks in the book that it was positively endearing to watch.

"Would I?" He enquires regarding the comment on merfolk's persistence, flashing an incriminatory glance through a fan of spidery lashes, the metallic paint smudged across his eyelids glimmering in the opalescent moonlight. Jormun had unwillingly listened to too many stories relaying Thorne's enchanted encounters at sea. He isn't about to bring any of them up, though, as his attention is far more preoccupied noticing how great those shorts fit the serpent's sturdy hips, how... nicely he tucks into them. Is the tiefling a size wizard or what? Years and years of spontaneous shopping before meetings like these had led him to master the entire conversion chart.

It's the suspicion in Jormun's tone that pulls him out of that daze with a barely masked dreamy sigh, pliantly offering his arm up as a clothes' rack. "I am indulging in a different form of sustenance before the main dish is served." They come to stand fairly close, with Thorne peering up at his friend from a deceptively innocent head tilt, observing the tension etched in the other's frown. Yes? He wants to ask, but he knows the answer won't come. At least he hasn't complained about the outfit... yet.

"She's here, of course. Looking forward to seeing you again." Hmm, who else. Thorne looks down at his right hand, using his fingers to count the guests as he lists the ones he remembers seeing. "The Englishman and our favourite shortbread man; Alfred, Sanji, your dad... oh, the women in Luc's family– they are lovely, you'll adore them. Watch your plate, though, or they'll feed you until you can't walk anymore."