𝐒𝐈𝐍𝐂𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐂𝐔𝐑𝐒𝐄 𝐇𝐀𝐃 𝐁𝐄𝐄𝐍 𝐁𝐑𝐎𝐊𝐄𝐍 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐊𝐋𝐀𝐔𝐒 𝐄𝐕𝐎𝐋𝐕𝐄𝐃 𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐎 𝐀 𝐁𝐄𝐀𝐒𝐓 𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐒 𝐃𝐈𝐃 𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐊 𝐏𝐎𝐒𝐒𝐈𝐁𝐋𝐄, 𝐎𝐍𝐄 𝐎𝐅 𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐄 𝐈𝐌𝐏𝐎𝐑𝐓𝐀𝐍𝐓 𝐆𝐎𝐀𝐋𝐒 𝐖𝐀𝐒 𝐓𝐎 𝐆𝐄𝐓 𝐈𝐍 𝐓𝐎𝐔𝐂𝐇 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐖𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐖𝐎𝐋𝐅 𝐒𝐈𝐃𝐄. vampirism could be brutal, and beautiful, but it was the blood of the wolf that he’d been born with. the blood that made him a horrific shame to his family, whose abuse created a power-hungry monster out of him. he does not look upon his past with self-pity ( and he certainly does not bring it up to others who might take advantage of knowing too much, ) he simply always wanted to know what it could be like if he could be his full self. without inhibitions.
whereas he used to be a faceless MYTH in vampiric lore, klaus began to travel more openly to track down different wolf packs. every pack possessed various rules and submitted to one specific alpha. the wolves nearby maria’s territory believed in keeping peace treaties with the vampires, but violence wasn’t necessarily out of the question the moment that treaty was breached. klaus supposed he had breached those rules the other night, and now with maria. if they expected him to apologize, then that was laughable. klaus was THE alpha, and the maker of vampires. what could they do to him? what could they say to him?
furthermore, he was growing bored of maria’s insolence, though her blood tasted absolutely DIVINE. he wasn’t some uncontrolled newborn, and yet he could have spent a few moments more rapidly draining maria’s neck like supping on his favorite wine. removing the branch of wood driven into his own neck, there was no flinching. his features, once feral, relaxed into a slight glare of mild annoyance. this was particularly provoked at how clueless she was about his motivations; young vampires battled over territory, and the elders just watched. klaus didn’t need an army, he was an army. therefore, collecting and turning followers wasn’t of any necessity and it has been a very long time since he has trusted another vampire.
“your town is beneath me, why would i want it?”
like a god, he thinks with more grandeur. his anger and frustrations at maria were built up out of resentment and how she actively defied him. surely she did not believe that he would fight her over territory, when he quite literally commanded a kingdom. one that she has not seen, yet. she may NEVER get to see it, but that was her choice. being able to trust and to love was always of more importance to her, whereas klaus remained faithful to his reality. that love was a lie, and that animals like them didn’t deserve happy endings. they were meant to reign and exert dominance over others, and that was all.
“i could have commanded you to fall on your knees for me and me alone, and you would have. do you honestly think that you’re in control?” —his heart thudded. klaus swallows, ignoring it. she possesses more control over him than he wants to realize, and he will never tell her that. “yet i have never ruled in such a manner,” he used compulsion for specific acts of TORTURE and other nefarious plots, but never to gain followers. his inner circle was private, selective, and astonishingly small.
and submission was always more delicious when given willingly.
the werewolf bite was just a reminder that they were no longer on the same side; she had given up such a privilege. and for what?
she called him empty—- the word spat with such disdain. his hazel-flecked gaze narrowed to slits. did she truly see nothing in him?
“very well,” he went on ever so effortlessly, his shoulder continuing to burn from the unbearable wolfsbane. just another element that he needed to learn more about from his werewolf side. “i would’ve rather AVOIDED killing you, but you seem adamant on dying by my hand. …i hope you’re satisfied.” that devilish smile returned, slowly unfurling at the edges of his mouth. her blood stained his lips; he hopes to remember the taste in the following centuries to come.
he didn’t have to tell her that the halluciations would be starting soon. she would go rabid, maybe even attack one of her own. it would be a slow and painful end for a warrior such as herself— an unfitting end.
but klaus would not show her mercy.
FEAR was not a feeling Maria welcomed. It reminded her to much of HOME. Of that which she had scrawled new beginnings over the top of, carved out victories and cities she RULED over. Her father’s memory was a mere speck of dust in the history of humanity. No one remembered his name, she’d made SURE of that. Humans in cities across Mexico had sketched out the fabric of their meaningless existence throughout her time not knowing how her empire lurked in the shadows. Occasionally they’d whisper stories, rumours passed down over time of fanged beasts in the night, the children of an angered goddess. An extra glance over a shoulder at night, crosses on the door of the extra superstitious to try and keep her out. She ruled the night across the region. She was FEAR. To feel it was a weakness, and Klaus had managed to embed it into her bones.
It had started in the woods when she’d been convinced she was still facing him, an angered lunge at her rival god having her fall through the air onto nothingness. He was gone. Left to die. With no one around she had allowed the tears to come. Her bite mark had throbbed and she’d sworn she’d heard a child screaming for their mother in the distance. A scream that occasionally haunted her nightmares for it was her own. Joining the lost, imaginary child in her agony, Maria had let out a scream she was sure had shaken the woods. One she’d hoped would reach Klaus wherever he’d run to and make his ears BLEED. With hot tears still dripping from dark eyes burning with determination, she’d decided she would find a way out. She always did.
Fear had twisted its tendrils around her throat once more when her trusted witch, Celia, had informed her of the only known way to cure her. KLAUS’S BLOOD. She’d had to stop herself from destroying Celia’s apothecary right then and there, her fathers voice whispering intrusively that she was lying. But it made too much sense. A twisted, sickening amount of sense. Klaus wanted her submission, she wanted a cure. They both wanted what only the other could give, and Maria’s need was far more pressing. While she hadn’t destroyed Celia’s, she had walked into the nearest bar and grabbed the first man attempting to hit on her, dragging him out to an alley and ripping into his neck with a savagery she hadn’t exhibited since being a newborn. It had hardly satiated her; she wasn’t even hungry, she was simply MAD. Even the way the blood sat in her mouth after a feed felt wrong, tainted by the ticking time bomb on her neck.
Time began to blur together, even as her trusted lieutenants scrambled for a cure to save their beloved Queen, Maria became paranoid they might take the opportunity of her impending demise to overthrow her. They would fuck it all up. Perhaps she was simply staying alive on spite by then.
Klaus began to occupy nearly every waking thought. His mark on her becoming far more than simply physical. Every thought consumed with how she could still WIN. She wanted to prove that to him, she needed to. It was an obsession that slowly began to seep into her dreams, that by that point had blurred with reality anyway. His eyes bore into her, calling her to him. In her dreams there was not as much need to resist. She would be dead soon, anyway. No matter how close they got in dreams, however, his BLOOD was something she could never attain. Even when there had been a drop of it dangling from his thumb, hovering near her face, when she had reached her mouth toward it - her tongue mere inches from reaching it - she had been jolted awake by another surge of pain. Sweating and trembling like a human with the flu. She felt PATHETIC. Though her lustful dreams had given her an idea.
Paloma was one of her newer protégé’s, her immortal life having existed merely half a decade. While she hadn’t looked exactly like Maria, her features closely enough resembled her maker. That and her fiery spirit. Her human beginnings had been similar to Maria’s and with it had come a wise-beyond-her-years knowledge of how to use men to get what she wanted. She’d hoped Paloma would be the perfect bait to catch Klaus unaware. Paloma had enough inexperience to hopefully not raise an alert but the necessary knowledge in seduction. And somehow Maria had a sneaking suspicion she would be his TYPE.
Perhaps it had also been that she’d been dispensable enough for Maria to take the risk.
What could she say, she was a cruel mistress.
It had been days since Paloma had set out on her mission to procure the cure, however, and as Maria shakily reaches for her phone, wincing at the pain small movement now caused her, her stomach is already dropping before she even hears who’s on the other end. “ Qué, Paloma?”
jacobvanloon
blakekathryn
areudirty
theartofmadeline
vaporwave
gummygunk
origamiaround
