#mine;edit

KLAROLINE: ANCIENT ROME AU

In which Klaus is a gladiator recruited by the commander general of the Felix Legions, Caroline Forbius to join her ranks after he showcases his deadly intelligence in the art of tactical combat in an arena tournament.

Basically a 100 layers of forbidden romance set in Ancient Rome between a commander general and a slave turned gladiator turned warrior.

Dancing in a painting, I’ll hold you close between these blurred faces and still strokes. Dance with me, my Love. Dance with me in a painting because I can hold you f o r e v e r, if it’s a painting.

KLAROLINE AU: MARRIED THIEVES

Being gifted a Red Notice by the InterPol after stealing a piece of rock worth more than 300 million dollars wasn't exactly the anniversary gift they hoped for, until they decided it was.   OR

In which Klaus and Caroline commit, what is now widely being referred to as The Crime of the Century, by pulling off the most stunningly complicated heist in criminal history in a bid to lift the priceless Moonstone, an invaluable artifact from the Early Norse civilization that is now in the possession of the two most prolific thieves of the 21st century.

When the trail of clues they deliberately left behind, in hopes of future entertainment from the InterPol is discovered on the eve of their fifth wedding anniversary, they are both, needless to say, notably irked at the prospect of starting their game of cat and mouse ahead of schedule. 

Weathering numerous grumbling comments and just as many strongly worded complaints from his grumpy wife and not to mention many many placating kisses later, Klaus convinces his  partner in crime and in marriage that this minor change in schedule is but a slight inconvenience that can be resolved with a single jet ride to their private island off the coast of the Caribbean— Their own little piece of paradise where they will not only spend their days and nights celebrating the anniversary of their union, undisturbed and undetected, but also have plenty of time to decide precisely how revenge must be exacted for this audacious little disruption from their friends at the InterPol.

Caroline, even before she fastens her seat belt on their jet, already has a very specific painting in mind. It’s perfect for their next Mark. She’ll be sure to let Enzo know that they will be heading to Russia next, as soon as their celebrations in the Caribbean are over. 

After all, there’s a painting at the Hermitage with the name Mr. and Mrs. Forbes on it.

KLAROLINE: SIREN  X  PIRATE AU

There is a Siren in his nets, singing softly, softly. 

The wind changes course, returns the way it came, to cradle her melodies. The ocean, unmoving, silences itself to let her voice sweep the waves. 

His men, they are all but ready to throw themselves overboard, what for they do not know. 

His sails loosen, even as the wind picks up, they droop and sway as though they are here to flatten spines and bow in reverence amidst this creature and the sun—the sun can never keep to itself, it strikes down on her golden head as though to snatch a piece of her for keeping.

There is a storm coming, he knows this. Her song will bring it to him. 

There is a storm coming and he should flee but their story has always gone like this: One is the captor, the other the captivated.

She is tangled in his nets and he is bound in her symphony. 

And the ocean, their companion, thinks: Here lies a legend in the making—a Siren of the Mystic Sea and a Pirate with Ocean Magic in his veins.

MODERN ROYALTY X MAFIA for @bellemorte180

KILL OF THE NIGHT for @helpless-in-sleep

I wanna taste the way that you bleed, oh You're my kill of the night

Now you're mine But what do I do with you, boy I'll take your heart To kick around as a toy

The danger is I'm dangerous And I might just tear you apart

-Kill of the Night by Gin Wigmore

Caroline crouches low, hands steady, breath a silent warning in the air, she's got a finger on a trigger, a life before her to take, to pierce, to kill, and here her heart only knows the beginning hush of satisfaction that will soon settle around her shoulders just as it always has with every werewolf killed and eradicated by her hand; an act that has become a comforting habit of a sort; an instinct that works with the same familiarity and efficiency of a well oiled machine.

She breathes carefully through her nose with all the invisibility of a ghost, and in this moment as she aims her gun at the Alpha wolf on the forest floor, she thinks: this death will be no different.

Yet when the bullet whirrs through the air and pierces the majestic wolf's heart—she realizes how ridiculously and unbelievably wrong she had been, when It was her chest that exploded in unimaginable pain, without a single drop of blood in sight—

Her mother was right: Fate had a terrible sense of humor no one would enjoy.