Hope still wins but it often
has a tear stained face.
It has a vulnerable heart.
It has bloodied fists, because
it keeps on fighting.
It has scraped knees, because
it keeps on crawling forward.
It's sweaty; Hope is not necessarily pretty.
But you always want Hope on your side
because Hope will fight for you.
Hope will fight for the hardest parts of your life.

━━ Jo Saxton.

To be a mother, is to be a coin.

Two-faced, with one face to show the world (Radiant. Tender. Devoted.) and one only to be seen in the rippled reflection of a mirror (Boneache. Torn apart. Emaciated.)

It's nature's unwritten law: as a mother, your destiny is to suffer, and to be a good mother? You must like it.

Cannibalizing your own bodily tissues, hunger pains echoing through every blood vessel, for years on end to stand guard over thousands of the next generation, knowing only a few can live in this unfair world. Making a home from your skin for an infant no bigger than a spring wasp, the your flesh belonging to another for the rest of your life. Losing your teeth, the new life sucking the calcium from your brittle bones; giving up your sanity for a being you have never met, devoting your every waking moment for decades to come to someone else's survival.

To be a mother, is to be a performer.

Place a mask of contentment over teary eyes and shaky hands. Take to the stage of screeching voices and snotty noses, of cleaning and cooking and cleaning and cooking. Sing the song and dance of spoiled diapers and clogged milk ducts. Perform, perform, perform with a smile towards the public's judgement and sob behind closed doors after sleepless nights and intimate rejection from your spouse. Earn your flowers with an exaggerated bow and kiss your sense of self goodbye.

To be a mother, is to be a wolf.

Bare your teeth and snarl at those who threaten the place you call home, rip those who threaten your beloved mate into shreds, burn down the world when the children trembling behind you are placed in danger. There is no mercy in the vocabulary of the forest keeper, no restraint in the actions of an animal backed into a corner.

That type of instinct is what's going to save the world. . .

Before the New World was colonized, before the innovations of the steam engine or the telescope, before the agony of the full moon subjugated the more animalistic side of the supernatural world, they were nothing more than humble servants of nature. Conflict and war would have been foreign words if it weren't for the relentless fighting between a pair of covens. Two such nature-worshippers aimed to forge new ground and overcome the devastating battles that plagued their families. And in a story told thousands of times before, from ancient grudge broke to new mutiny, this time in the form of a child.

Throughout the pregnancy, the mother and father accepted many blessings from the most holy of elders in their clans, hoping it would bring health and prosperity to the symbol of unity growing in the womb. They never expected that this generosity could have such dire consequences when the baby slashed and mangled her way out into the world.

As each day turned into night, a deep and insatiable hunger grew within the child. It started with butterflies and sparrows, the child absorbing their lifeforce to gain energy, gain strength, gain power. At the age of five winters, the baby girl snapped the family's hunting companion neck when it barked a little too much for her liking. The tribes named her Inadu for the way she swallowed the life of her prey whole, like a snake. Eventually it consumed her parents in her quest for more power, and then the two united covens knew that the child they placed all of their hopes and dreams on had to be stopped.

Their efforts to kill the creation they once believed to be a gift from the gods ended in disaster, the child had lived long enough by then to be filled with immeasurable power, and under the light of a full moon, cast her dying spell of rage, of misery, of heartbreak. The very people who were supposed to love the child unconditionally quivered under the nature-altering remnants of her power, the cracking of snapping joints and broken bones echoing through the night intertwined in a symphony of howls.

When the covens woke with the rising of the sun, returned to their human forms, they knew the only way to prevent the child ascending from the depths of the underworld was to scatter across the lands. Without the bones of her kin, the child could not form a corporeal body and was cursed to forever haunt the halls of the dead. The clans split into eight groups to increase the odds of Inadu never returning, flourishing in their new homelands and creating new generations who would never know the horror of the girl who craved evermore power. In this progress, most lost the fear of Her entirely and lived in naive harmony with the new beastly sides that overtook their connection to nature.

All except one, a tribe that fled Turtle Island to the Old World in their haste to separate themselves from any surviving traces of Inadu. They passed down the tales of the monstrous girl through the generations, selectively pairing off their eligible children to the Häxa and Ved'ma of their new home, sending prayers to their ancestors that one strand, one breed of magic would prevail over the wolf imbedded in their DNA and concoct a descendant who could triumph when Inadu made her inevitable return.

This individual, born under a total eclipse to rival the curse of the full moon and blessed with the abilities of both wolf and witch, would save the world from the reign of her megalomaniac ancestor and bring unending peace to the supernatural world and thus, would need a fitting title that encompassed the spirit, the sacrifice, the suffering that such a task would require.

Mat' volka. Wolfmother.

JODIE COMER ♔ ANNIKA ROMANOV

THE SWAN / TWENTY-FOUR

"Speak to me like that again and I will tear out your throat, with my teeth."

JOSEPH MORGAN ♔ NIKLAUS MIKAELSON

THE WOLF / ONE THOUSAND & TWELVE

"Put away the claws, little swan. There's only one Alpha here."

GREETINGS . . . welcome back to me screaming *AHHHHHHHHHHHHH* Fatal Things is back bitches !!!! Annika and Klaus have been my obsession for a long, long time, they've gone through many iterations, and lately they've been whispering in my ear to rework and republish this story again so of course, I had to listen. I've changed some of Annika's lore, namely I removed the former reincarnation plotline because I want to use it for a different story lol. I wish you all happy reading and please make sure to vote & comment ! I adore seeing your thoughts and perspectives in my notifs and comments really motivate me to write 📝 I love you all so, so much 🥰🥰

CONTENT WARNINGS . . . This story will contain mature themes and some topics discussed in this book may not be for everyone; your mental health takes priority so if any of the following subjects are triggering to you, perhaps reconsider reading this book. Fatal Things will contain descriptions of gruesome murder, sexual scenes, drug and alcohol abuse, mentions and descriptions of miscarriage, blood and gore, cannibalism, vampirism and the werewolf curse, character death, and mentions of physical and emotional child abuse.

DISCLAIMER . . . This is a fanfiction for The Originals, sometimes taking place during the events of canon. Not all events or lore in this story is true to the canon of the show/books. 1) I do not own any of the original The Originals characters or plotlines that are mentioned in this story, those belong to L.J. Smith and (unfortunately) Julie Plec. 2) I only own my original characters and any plot points that deviate from canon, including the alternate royalty lore of New Orleans that will be present. The layout for this story was inspired by katsukist. The coloring for the moodboards is by fadedresources on deviantart. Everyone oogle the amazing character manip at the beginning of this chapter made by the amazing posingposeys !

DEDICATIONS . . . to some truly amazing people and tvd universe writers! runlikeh3ll vintagegrace katsukist foxgIoves SprintingFox Chasing-Lightning dunbonnet heIIborn wulfhall 

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