𝔄 𝔡𝔞𝔯𝔨 𝔣𝔩𝔞𝔪𝔢 𝔥𝔞𝔦𝔯𝔢𝔡 𝔪𝔞𝔫 𝔰𝔞𝔱 𝔞 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔟𝔞𝔯, 𝔥𝔢𝔞𝔡 𝔟𝔬𝔴𝔢𝔡, 𝔤𝔞𝔷𝔢 𝔰𝔱𝔞𝔯𝔦𝔫𝔤 𝔞𝔦𝔪𝔩𝔢𝔰𝔰𝔩𝔶 𝔦𝔫𝔱𝔬 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔟𝔯𝔬𝔫𝔷𝔢 𝔩𝔦𝔮𝔲𝔦𝔡, 𝔴𝔦𝔱𝔥 𝔡𝔢𝔣𝔢𝔞𝔱 𝔰𝔴𝔦𝔯𝔩𝔦𝔫𝔤 𝔟𝔢𝔥𝔦𝔫𝔡 𝔥𝔦𝔰 𝔡𝔞𝔯𝔨 𝔰𝔲𝔫𝔤𝔩𝔞𝔰𝔰𝔢𝔰. He had lost the antichrist. And had been playing the role of shaping a mere mortal brat of a child for the last eleven years, believing him to be the antichrist. Now, only a week remined until ever-lasting Hell or ever-lasting Heaven. The thought of either side winning made him recoil into himself. He'd grown too accustomed to the earth and life on the middle.

He wouldn't admit to anyone, but he loved his life as it was. He didn't fancy the end of everything and endless suffering of which-ever side won. He couldn't rap his head around why God would want to end the world, even after six thousand years. Hadn't she created it to observe how it prosper? How it'd evolve? He sighed, drowning his glass. Before pouring another glassful of whisky. He placed the bottle down, glancing over his shoulder. Only to turning away from the livily buzz.

"Gin and lemon-aid."

He turned his head, gaze landing on the left side of a dark, dirty blonde haired woman. Who sat mere two stolls away from him. She had a similer accent to his own, but he couldn't put his finger on which part of England she came from. Gin, he thought the drink which causes you feel down. Which led him to his next question what had happen?

He shook himself, why was he concerned about a stranger he hardly knew? Yet, there was something about her - a sublte but noticable pull. Oh, heaven he thought, leaning his back backwards, arching his head, looking at her from down the bridge of his nose "What happened?"

Her head snapped around sharply, to reveal a sharp but soft, and beautiful facial structure. Her long hair and ivory skin shined warmly, under the yellow lightinging. Her blue-green orbs incasted in black eyeliner. She raised her eyebrows, morunful eyes shifting to gaze at the wooden counter "Brother died."

His expression soften, an odd sadnes tug pulled somewhere inside him. Perhaps, it was all for God's amusmsent, two upset, moping souls sat together. She chucked her drink down her throat, dipping her head back as he observed "I'm sorry for your loss."

She smiled slightly, for a second, turning to him "What's down in your world, then?" She observed him, noting he had dark flame hair and warm pale skin. He had sharp, angular features.

"I misplaced something," he said, sliding onto one stoll, leaving one between them, bringing his bottle and glass with him "and uh, if I don't find it the world will end. And, to make very thing worse, I have no idea where it is."

She observed him curiously, with furrowed brows as he wordlessly shared his liquor "Due to experience, I'd wager it's not too far out of your reach." He raised a brow, lifting the bottle neck from her glass "It's sod's law, for you." She took her glass, raising it in a gesture of thanks.

"Yeah," he exhaled, taking his own glass off the bar counter "sod's law. I've fallen foul of that a few times. I suppose we all do." He tilted his head, a wonderous expression dawning on his face, raising a brow "Who are you?"

She chuckled with amusement, eyes shining. She shot a playful look to him "Shouldn't I be asking you that question,..?"

"Crowley," he offered his glass.

She smirked "Kalliope." They clinked their glasses together, before dipping their heads back, drowning them empty.

"So," Crowley slurred, pouring the pair another refill. A game of 21 questions quickly bloomed between them as they finished off their third bottle. Discussing things, and getting to know one another. Crowley had learnt that she came from a highly dysfunctional family, and had recently lost the only brother she was greatly close to "this...uh...brother - the one who's always sending your other one abroad - I...take it he's a...a-"

"-Narcissistic, backstabbing wanker," she nodded, she had quickly found - much to her amusement - he was very much a lightweight. Furthermore, Kalliope had learnt that he was fast-living, a lover of queen and fine wine "who deserves to be locked away in a coffin, and that coffin then being thrown into the North sea."

He chuckled at the description "Oh, he can't be too bad. All the time."

She rolled her eyes "He has his rare moments."

"I bet Ni - uh, - Nicholas can't be that bad all the time."

"Nikaus." She corrected, lightly.

"Niklaus. Klaus..." he blinked "Santa Klaus."

She laughed aloud, causing him to smile, swaying his head as she placed hers into the palm of her right hand as her elbow jolted forwards on the counter slightly, her hair falling forward. She glanced at him, turning her head, grinning "A word of advice, never, never say that to his face."

He raised his brows, grin widening "If I ever meet him, I'll try to with strain myself from doing so."

She inhaled deeply, laughter never leaving her feature, imagining for the moment - the outraged, but gobsmacked expression on Klaus' face at being called 'Santa Klaus,' - "If you value your life you'll do more than try."

He chuckled, reaching forward to tuck her caremal locks behind her ear. She froze as his finger grazed the skin around her ear. Both of their happy expressions slipped away, his finger lingered as she leant forward. He began to do the same. Meeting half-way, their lips locked sharing a kiss. The demon and heretic gazed at one another daze, a undescrible attraction existed between them. Pulling them towards the other.

"Um, should - do you..." he struggled to find the words, losing himself in dark blue-green water.

"I believe," she drawled, tugging each word out slow and seductivly - it made his head spim "we should blow this joint."

"Quite right. Yes." He nodded. They left money paying for the drank and departed.

•______𝔎______•

Crowley slammed Kalliope against the wall of the hallway in his Soho apartment, earning a slight groan between their endless snog. He broke it by kissing along her jaw, down to her neck. Kalliope hummed contently, and breathless. He laid kisses on her cool skin, making her shiver against his warm lips. The duo leant against one another, pressing and filling ever corner. He clenched her emerald green shirt in his fists, ripping away. Exposing Kalliope's proud bust incasted in a black lace bra to him. He cursed in his head - he had had his fair share of breif sexual relations, yet there was something... charismatic, magnetic attraction that tugged him towards her.

Kalliope graspped his jaw with her finger, pulling him up. She looked at him as he toward over her 1.7 height with his 1.85 one. She gazed at him gentlely, as she slowly gripped the silver frames of his sunglasses. He obseved her motionless as she gradually pulled them away from his face. Revealing his golden, serpentine pupils. She exhaled with soft, admiring eyes "Beautiful."

He gawked, but a smile graced his lips. He ducked down, taking her own lips in an passionate kiss. She rapped her arms around his neck, swiftly chucking his sunglasses a fair, safe distance away. Crowley slipped from her lips, kissing along her neck. Smirking slyly when she tore her bra open for him, as he neared the bud of her breasts. Taking her light one in his mouth as the gripped the left in his hand. Kalliope rested her uptilted head on the wall, eyes screwed shut as her hand tangled it's self in his hair.

She held her breath, gripping tightly on the moan fighting to slip through her lips. Both their free hands toyed with each other, in a dance of their own. A forked tongue swirled around her breast causing her jaw to drop, relieving her of the moan. The demon merely smirked, so she likes my tongue huh, he could work with that. He traded her breast for her left one, with a wet plopping sound. He took her wet, dripping nipple in his palm, toying with it. He hissed against her breast as her grip on his hair tightened, he pushed her left boob upwards and swirled it in a circular motion. As his free set of fingers, stroked her palm, tieing together with her fingers. He released her breast, with a plop, gazing up at the breathless blonde. Admiringly.

Before diving upward, stealing her lips with his. Humming against them, arms rapping around her waist. Kalliope cradled his jaw, as she rapped an arm round his neck, fingers toying with his short locks. They clung to one another. She pecked him on the lip, runing her hands along his chest before tearing off his black shirt. He peered wide eyed, breathless as she kissed down and traced her fingers over his chest. Crowley could hardly feel the tightness of his belt anymore, he felt as if he were in pure heavenily bliss.

As did Kalliope, she felt very much equal in his pleasure. She felt the wetness and wantful sting between her thighes, as she took her turn of worship, however she willed herself to wait - for once in so long she wanted to enjoy the entire act, and not simply to scratch the itch that occasionally arose. Crowley begun to grit his teeth when she neared his trouser line. It amazed and torment him, how slow yet graceful she was. Unbuckling his belt, and unzipping his trousers, whilst attacking his hips with her lips.

His trousers and pants barely had time to hit the floor, before his head was thrown back, a groan rumbling out of his throat as Kalliope pleasured his length single handed. He hardly felt her smile, far too lost amongst stars at the back of his mind "Kkkall-ohhh." He let out a strangled mix between a moan and a hum, as she rubbed and kneaded his dick "Bloody heaven!" He exclaimed when he felt her take him in her mouth.

His arm shot out, fingers scrapping on the wall, his back arched forward as his head bowed, eyes screwed shut. Moaning, as his other set lost themselves in her hair. Kalliope happily supped on him, sucking down all of what he had to offer. He moaned, reaching his first orgasm. She withdrew, licking her lips as he panted, observing Kalliope as she tugged on her lower lip. He blinked entranced as she slowly stood, seductively.

She rose to the tips of her toes, taking his lips with hers, breaking him from her spell. His hands grazed her skin, running down to her hips, sending goosebumps though her insides. He slipped his long fingertips into her leggings, hooking them and her pants as they bruised one another's lips with every kiss. He peeled them off, leaving her lips, kissing a path down her body towards her hips. She panted, simply opting to observe.

After tugging off her leggings and pants, he grazed the back of her thighs before hooking his hands under her knees. He lifted her up, setting her thighs on his shoulders. She shivered at the coldness of his breath against her wet sex, hooking her legs around his neck. He clasped a hand around her hip, keeping his other under her thigh. He dived his head forward. Kalliope's head shot backwards, hitting the wall, a lengthy hum slipped from her lips, eyes rolled far away in the back of her head.

God, she was falling in love with his forked tongue, very every movement he made as he supped down all of her juices, flickering, dipping and withdrawing his tongue inside her. She tugged at his hair, in a messy handful as her thighs squeezed together in response, pushing his face deeper into her "Cccrow-ohh-ley."

He exhaled breathless, after she orgasmed, loosening around him. He stroked her thighs with his fingers, enjoying the bliss with her before diving through her thighs. Kalliope hooked her legs around his hips, as he kept a hand on her thigh, offering support. Their pants molded into one, dark eyes drowning in the other as their sexs met. Earning a content hum and moan. Kalliope waited for herself to adjust to him, linking her fingers around his neck before beginning to ride him.

He hissed lowly, relishing her milk him. He stole her lips, cutting off both of their moans. Evently, he took over when she slowed, pushing her back against the wall. As he pounded into her, increasing his speed and going hard as he could. Their moans and groans of pleasure lost themselves within one another. Their orgasm erupted together, resulting in them slumping against each other.

Kalliope and Crowley gazed at one another, breathless. Their mixed scents covered their bodies from head to toe. They admired each other's beauty, lowly inching forward taking another kiss.

•______𝔎______•

Kalliope sauntered into the parlour of the Mikaelson mansion, cursing her brother under her breath. What could have been so important? She wondered why he wanted her to 'come home' as he had put it. Last time she looked in her family's direction. Both his and Rebekah's attention had been fixated in their stupid quest for the cure to vampirism.

A quest which had lead to her most beloved, littlest - was living - brother dying by the hands of the wretched Gilbert boy and his pathetic doppelganger of a sister. Who - in her view - made Katerina look like a saint and the better infernal doppelganger. Last Katherine actually had a brain, and feared her and her family.

Elijah had long since disappeared off the scene, leaving the four of them in the constant evolving mess he and Klaus had created. She scrowled, sighing, she dearly desired to rip Jaremy Gilbert limb from limb, whilst his bitch sister watch. Then she'd shove every last scrap down Elena's throat.

She'd even thought further, and came up with the idea to kill each and very friend belonging to Elena. Then force the doppelganger to eat them all, leaving nothing but their bones. It always brought a content smile to her face, to imagine the look on her face. Brick, by brick she reminded herself, the best revenage is always served cold - long after the ones it's aimed at, have long forgotton to worry.

Her eyes fixed themselves on an cream envelope which rested above the mantle. Her brows furrowed, scrowl loosening as curiosity took hold of her. She sauntered towards it, picking it up. 'Kalliope' was written on it. With a frown, she opened the cover, and pulled out the letter. It was odd, and old-fashioned to receive a letter these days. That meant one thing ; it definitely from a vampire. Since the latest generation were all about technology.

Dear, Kalliope.

Long time no see, old girl. Klaus has denied me, my freedom, as Elijah has failed me. Shame on them. However, I believe I am right in the assumption that the likely-hood of having my freedom from Klaus, willingly, is quite fanciful, so is my freedom from you.

However, in respect for our short lived friendship and the favour I owe you. I felt you should know. There is a witch in New Orleans, named Jane-Anne Deveraux plotting against you. God, I wish I could be there to see the look on both of your faces. Ah.

I, wish you the best of luck, in light how greatly the same the three of us are. As I said ; We manipulate, we thirst for power, we control, we punish, but our actions are driven by one singular place deep inside: We're alone... and we hate it.

Hopefully, you'll succeed in a place of life I didn't.

Love, and hate,

Katherine.

Kalliope frowned thoughtfully, what could the vampiric woman be impiling? Why was someone plotting against both her and Klaus. She groaned, realising why she'd been summoned home.

"What to you say, sister?" she turned, finding her brother stood in the door, with a determined glare "Shall we, tackle this together?"

She turned her body to full stand opposed to his, a dark glare on her face. She arched her head "Yes."

Klaus smirked devilshly, happy with his sister's answer.

•______𝔎______•

A dark chocolate haired werewolf lay on her front, her cheek buried in the cold stone floor. A groan slipped through her lips, as consciousness pulled her from her dreamless state. Her brows furrowed as her eyelids scrunched tightly together, the lingering reminder of hot, small needle stabbing like pain swirling around her brain. She brought a hand up to her head, releasing a 'aw' as she pushed herself up, into a fitting position. Opening her eyes, brown orbs scanned the candle lit brick room.

The moist smell clung to her nose, as the flames of the candles licked her skin with their warmth. The walls looked anicent, cracked and damp. She frowned, scanning the area. The last thing her mind recalled was calling a break-down line because of her car suddenly dying on her. Then, sharp needles - with deafening high-pitch sound - bounded against her skull, bouncing off her mind. Like a fist knocking on a door.

"Hi." A southern accented, masculine voice echoed, bouncing around the empty room.

She jumped, head spinning around. Gaze landing on the arched, hole in the wall. Tucked in the shadows. She squiented her eyes. The brunette wolf was just about to make out the outline of a male, lounging lazily on the stone bench. She frowned "Where are we?"

"Beats me." The outline shrugged his shoulders, his tone impiling he was more bored with his current situeation rather than annoyed. Her frowned deepened, wondering what the hell was happening. She opened her mouth to speak, to question why they were where they were, or who he was, or better yet who had kidnapped them.

"You're awake," her head turned, as his gaze shifted, lifting up from the ground "good."