Klasma shorts; comfortable in her own skin

The witch ran her hand through her curly hair and pinched the bridge of her nose. She went through her grimoire, a book she had made herself. It was a compilation of spells she had learned over the centuries, with some that she had even invented in her spare time. The pink-haired woman ran her index finger over the pages of the book and licked her bottom lip. She remembered how desperate to find a way to lift her curse she was the first couple of centuries. She searched the whole world for a way to break it, but it never led to anything that worked. She was an immortal, and there was no way around it. She would remain an immortal until someone succeeded in taking her life.

She missed having a coven. She missed having the joy of sharing her knowledge. She missed this warm feeling she had knowing she belonged somewhere. She belonged to no one. She belonged to no....No! She belonged with Klaus! How could she think otherwise? At first, the witch thought that their encounter was a cruel joke of Fate. Klaus took a lot from her that fateful night, and for so long she was driven by her desire for revenge. Yet, upon meeting him a second time, things were vastly different. For the first time, she could connect to someone. For the first time, she didn't feel alone. For the first time in a very long time, she felt that she meant something to someone, and that feeling managed to fill the void she felt. There would never be a coven of witches for her, but she was fine with a coven of two. After all, it was Klaus and herm together against the world, wasn't it?

Klasma: Let your pain out.

Klasma: Let your pain out. 

"I see you fancied a bath. I thought you wanted a quick shower, love."

"I decided against it because I need more time to think something over." She sighed and ran her hand through her wet locks. Her golden eyes stared at the hybrid that was standing at the bathroom door.  "Care to join me?" -She added with a wiggle of her brows-

"I would, but I have already showered this morning," he teased her. She pouted a little and shrugged her shoulders. "But I can keep you company if you want me to."

"I would love that. Maybe you could help me sort some things out." -He lifted a brow and walked into the bathroom. He leaned against the sink and crossed his arms above his chest-

He noticed her sudden change of behaviour. Nëela had been more distracted than usual. He couldn't quite put his finger on it, but she was caught up in her feelings and was more guarded than usual. He was glad that she didn't resist him and admitted the truth about how she felt. This way, they could have the conversation that should have happened earlier. Klaus braced himself for what she was going to say.  He set his blue eyes on her frame, watched as she moved around her bath to be able to lean her arms on the bathtub and rest her chin on top of the back of her hands.

"I don't know why it came to my mind, but I thought about the times I have been discovered as a witch."

"How did you react when that happened?" -She shrugged and pinched her lips together-

"Usually... I would have to fight them and I would have to kill them."

"Usually? When was that not the case?"

Klaus could understand why she would have to kill those who discovered her true identity. Humans didn't take too kindly to the truth about supernatural creatures. Their reaction would always be to try to destroy what they feared. He experienced it himself, the sight of pure horror from humans who learned he was a hybrid. Their superstitious fears and misunderstanding of the supernatural world always led to death and destruction. However, what surprised him was that there were instances of her sparing the lives of those who knew her true nature.  He cocked his head to the side so he could have a good look at her.

"Once, I was discovered by a 5-year-old boy. I'm not a child-killer, so I cast a spell on him to make him forget what he had just seen. "

Understandable. While Klaus didn't distinguish between friends, foes, and innocent people when he was going on a rampage, he still wouldn't attack children when he was fully conscious of what he was doing. He assumed that his witch would feel the same, perhaps even better than he, since he couldn't fathom the idea that she might have gone on rampages herself. That was part of her that Nëela kept buried deep inside her. She refused to remember what happened when she went on a rampage. She refused to even acknowledge that she went on rampages. It was bound to happen after spending centuries on her own; the witch ought to lose her mind at least once. It lasted a while, enough for her to leave a trail of bodies behind her. Enough for her to become a boogyman, enough for her... to scar the country. She knew, deep down, that during that time, innocent people, including children, fell prey to her attacks. 

"Understandable. Merciful even." -he paused for a second- "And what was the other time you didn't kill the witness?"

"A 1500-year-old werewolf. He only goes by Julius, so I can only refer to him as Julius." She bit her bottom lip and looked up at Klaus' face- "We were in the sixties, and I needed a place to stay. I needed stability, but I was very wary of the people who wanted to get close to me.  I had a shop at the time, a bakery, because I didn't want to raise suspicion about being a witch. He walked into my shop and he told me point-blank that he knew I was a witch. He could smell it on me. That was how I knew he was also a supernatural creature. He... convinced me to join his pack, not as a werewolf, but as myself. He sold me a dream. A dream of a community, of a place I could call home, and he didn't seem to be affected by my curse.  I believed him. I believed his lies, and ultimately, I realized that it was all a lie."

"Did you and that Julius...."

"Have a relationship? No. It was never about it, at least not for me. I wanted a family, and I thought I had found one with him and his pack. I was mesmerized by that older being who experienced life as I had never known it. They all seemed to welcome me, and I really wanted to believe it. It worked for years until one day, I walked into a conversation I shouldn't have heard. He was talking to his right-hand man about me, and I heard the bitter truth. He didn't care about me. He cared about my power. He wanted to use me. He wanted me to fight his wars for him. He saw me as a weapon and not a person, and I think the worst of it all was that I heard how much I disgusted him. He despised me. I was wretched, a witch, and everyone followed his orders. They all wanted me dead, but I was so useful to them that they agreed to pretend they cared for me."

Klaus could smell it, the distinctive saline scent of unshed tears. It hit his nostrils like a truck, and he realized that the witch was about to cry. It hurt her something fierce, and her voice betrayed her emotions. he could see that she genuinely believed that Julius guy was a friend and that she had found her family, but it was all an act to lure her into doing their bidding. She was nothing but a pawn, much like Elijah thought of her.  He moved from the sink and knelt before the bathtub, so they could see eye to eye. The witch's lips trembled, and she ended up crying. He hated the sight of her tears. He hated the wet sound that came out of her lips. He hated to see her pain. So the hybrid cupped her cheeks with both hands and stroked her soft skin with his thumbs. She was still crying and bit back her sobs, but he softly shushed her. 

"Come on. Let it go."

"I don't want to.... I don't wa---" -She sobbed and he stroked her cheek more tenderly - "Klaus....."- She begged, scared of being unable to stop herself if she gave in to her tears.-

He had rarely seen her cry, but he knew that she needed to let go. He usually wouldn't have cared for tears, and in the past, he didn't care about hers. These days things were different. Klaus cared for the witch, and he wanted to help her. He knew that because of her curse, if she let herself completely feel it, she would be in excruciating pain. He understood her reluctance to dive into those emotions and feel the full extent of them, but it was necessary. She had to cry.  He pressed a soft kiss to her lips and then wrapped his powerful arms around her shoulders.  He would keep her in that tight embrace for as long as she wanted, regardless of how wet he ended up being. Regardless of what he would witness. She would suffer, but he would be there the whole time. That hug managed to help the witch feel safe because Klaus created a safe place for her -in the warmth of his arms and embrace-. With trembling lips, she whispered, "Please don't let go of me..." -To which he replied - "I don't intend to." Reassured about his presence in this room, Nëela finally allowed herself to give in to her pain. 

The sight was unsettling, to say the least. She cried an ugly cry with snot and all, held onto his shirt as hard as she could, and painfully said his name as pain was overwhelming her. He could feel the spasm of her body as it was shaking uncontrollably. He could feel the muscles tense, her fingers clench and unclench, and her heart race against her ribcage. He could feel the distress her body was in, far worse than what he had witnessed before. She wailed and groaned. She apologized to him for what he was witnessing. For her snot, for her blood, that came out of her nose, for her tears, and the spasms she couldn't control. It was so much... too much for her to handle, and while he tried to comfort her the best he could, he realized now the scope of her curse. He realized the pain she tried to drown with acts of service, alcohol, or even sex. He realized that she was trying to save face most of the time and that she was desperate for contact, for something good to balance out the bad. He held onto her, never thinking twice about releasing his hold on her shaking frame, not even after she passed out because of the pain. He simply cradled her head and planted kisses on her forehead until her shaking subsided and ended. Then, he moved her out of the bath, grabbed a towel, and wrapped it around her frame before he grabbed another towel to dry most of her body. He took her to bed and sat on it, placed her body against his frame, and held onto her until she woke up. He didn't want to let go, and he wouldn't let go, not now, not ever. 

-TBC-

OC questionnaire III: Neela edition

Community and Relationships

Does your character prefer company or solitude when sick? Company (she's touch-deprived)

What is your character's favorite kind of social event? Balls

How comfortable would your character be singing and dancing in front of others? She's alright.

Is your character upfront about their feelings? Yes. Her curse makes it so.

Who would your character first seek if they needed medical help? Klaus, Freyja.

How willing would your character be to go to a party with people they don't know? Very willing.

Who is your character most honest with? Klaus

How likely is it for your character to initiate a friendship? She would initiate things. She needs friends.

Where is your character's comfort place? In Klaus' arms.

Is there a habit your character has that they learned from someone else?  No.

How would your character react to being put in a position of leadership? She doesn't want to lead.

Would your character be good at providing medical assistance? Yes, she is a witch.

Who would your character say knows them best? Elijah

Is there a person your character would turn to for backup in a fight? klaus.

How well does your character work with others?  She's trying to get used to it. 

What is your character's favorite form of affection? She loves holding hands.

Does your character enjoy celebrating holidays? Yes, and all of them. 

What would it take for your character to get into a fight? Take her hybrid from her. 

OC questionnaire II: Neela edition

What is a habit your character has that others might find cute? She trails off when distracted.

Are there particular sounds your character is fond of? The sound of potion brewing or stew. She loves cooking, so anything related to it makes her feel good.

Is your character more prone to fight or flight? She's more prone to fight. 

What words could tear your character down? "I don't love you." "You're a disgrace!" "You deserve to be alone."

How well does your character act under pressure? Nëela doesn't handle pressure well. It frustrates her.

Is your character good at practicing self-care? No. 

What scents does your character find comforting? Herbs, onguents and potions, the sea.

Does your character have any allergies? Yes, seashell.

Is your character a light, medium, or heavy sleeper? Heavy sleeper.

Does your character have strong willpower? Yes. She doesn't budge once she's decided.

Is your character more likely to give advice or seek it? She would seek it. She needs it.

How does your character relax? She would drink, garden, or meditate.

Is there a secret thing your character longs to hear? "I choose you. I will always choose you."

Would your character feel confident in a fight? Yes! and she is right to be. She's powerful. 

Is your character more energized in the morning, afternoon, or night? She's a morning girlie.

How often does your character have nightmares? Sometimes. 

Are there scents your character dislikes? Yes, menthol and safran. She can live with it but she hates it. 

Is there a fear your character wants to learn to overcome? She wants to overcome her curse.

Does your character have a high pain tolerance? Yes! Her curse makes her feel excruciating pain, so she can handle any type of wounds or injuries. 

N. splove on Nëela

// I am doing this for safekeeping. We never know when things could disappear. I want to be able to come back to his words.  For this one, it happened at the very beginning of this storyline. 

(Witch) Nëela

Now, this one might not be as long. We haven’t written as much here, and a lot of their story is still in that “you and I musing about the possibilities” phase. But I love that phase! Every time you and I start something new, and start talking and plotting and planning, I just remember all over again why I love having you as a writing partner. 

Klaus was my “one off, I’m not really going to write with him” character, and then you got involved and look what happened! His voice hit me like a MAC truck, and so many possible future stories started to evolve. 

You came along with such an interesting character, a cursed witch, and she just pushed Klaus right out of whatever dark corner of my mind he was hiding in and brought him fully to life. I love that she did that. I love that you can do that. 

All I really have to say here is that I am really looking forward to seeing where these two take us. I already love your witch, and as you write her more and we start to really get into it, I know that it only going to become more and more true.

Klasma: jealousy

Lucius finally found the Hybrid and his witch. He decided to watch them from afar as he wasn't ready for a direct confrontation just yet. It irritated him to watch her smile as if she had no care in the world. She was smiling and laughing with that abomination. She held his hand and gave him a warm smile, far warmer than she ever gave the werewolf. He noticed her arousal in the way she was giving small pants and sighs. He noticed the way her cheeks turned darker as she blushed, and he noticed the way her chest heaved up and down at a fast pace.  It made him feel a pang in his heart as jealousy was taking over. It should have been him. She should have felt this way for him, not for Klaus Mikaelson! Who did he think he was? Just because he was an Original and the first Hybrid didn't give him the right to look down on others. Lucius had been a general; he had marked his times. What had Klaus done if not ruin the world for the rest of them? Klaus was nothing but blood, sweat, and tears. He was nothing but a fraud, and the sight of him was killing him. Lucius' blue eyes wandered from her face to her cleavage, and he noticed how elegant yet tantalizing she looked. 

His eyes couldn't tear off of her curves or the soft skin of her neck. He wanted to bite it. He wanted to mark her and make sure that Klaus knew she was Lucius's and no one else's. It was irritating him to watch as she was practically begging Klaus to fuck her that night. Her eyes were almost glowing. She kept biting her bottom lip and touching her neck as if she wanted to invite him to bite her and taste her blood.  Her natural scent was being overtaken by the scent of her arousal, and it was taking his whole attention not to give into his own arousal. The werewolf was on edge. His breathing was labored. He was holding onto his beer, and his right leg was bouncing against the table. He wanted to turn and pounce on her. He would have if Klaus was not here. He would have pushed her against a wall and would have tried to have his way with her. Why didn't he do it when she was still in his care?  Perhaps he cared too much about her comfort to indulge his own desires, or perhaps he hoped she would give in to him without him making efforts to get it. Either way, he didn't do anything, and now she had left him and belonged to another. Insulting! 

He couldn't bear the sight before him. He couldn't bear watching Klaus touching /his/ witch. He couldn't bear the sight of her nearly in heat without being the one to quench her thirst. He couldn't! He wanted to be the one to push everything on that table off of it so he could bend her over the table and slide his cock inside her tight little cunt. He wanted to growl in her ear, obscenities that would come to him naturally. How many times did he accidentally hear her jerk off in her room? How many times did he hear her wet fingers slip in and out of her wet cunt at night? He wanted to be the one touching her. He needed to be the one to make her moan and squirm. He knew she tasted good, but he wanted to taste it himself. He was plagued with daydreams and fantasies of the witch bouncing on his thick cock, scratched by his claws, bruised because he wouldn't go easy on her, her mind completely wrecked because of the pleasure he would give her. He wanted to see her in her full glory. He needed to, but the reality of things painted a different picture. He lost her because he wanted to use her as a weapon and made it clear to her rather than being subtle about it. He lost her because he didn't treat her correctly. 

He lost her, but he needed to make things right. 

He needed to take her back, and it would start by getting rid of Klaus Mikaelson. 

Now, the only thing missing was a plan to make it happen. 

Klasma: Clarity

I stopped reading my book for a while so I could lift my gaze up to your face. You are talking to Elijah over the phone about stuff I don't listen to. How could I listen to what you have to say when all I want to do is to look at you and lose myself there? A smile creeps on my lips and I lean my cheek against the palm of my hand as I stare at you, Klaus.

I love the strong and determined tone in your voice, I love how deep it sometimes goes when you're being serious. I love how stern you look when you're talking business. That's the face of a man who takes protecting his family very seriously. I have always loved it about you. Whatever is happening to your siblings, you're always taking it seriously. You're talking, slightly upset at what Elijah is saying to you and I see the shift in your gaze, the annoyance, and the stress.

You glance at me and notice I am staring at you and while that gaze softens when our eyes meet, you are still tensed and serious. I don't say a word and I return to my book for a brief moment, thinking to myself that I love you. Taken again by the story I am reading, your conversation becomes a white noise at the back of my head. I don't know for how long you're talking, I don't think it's even just Elijah you're talking to. I think there are your other siblings but I don't really care. It is your conversation. 

I lift my eyes up and look at you again this time your arms are wrapped around her chest, tightly secured in a defensive gesture since you don't agree with what they're saying to you, something about a different plan. I look at your beard, thinking that you don't wear a beard that often and it suits you extremely well. I like how it feels when you kiss me, I love stroking it with my fingers when we sleep next to each other. I love it, even more, when it tickles on my naughty bits as we're making love. I think you're gorgeous! 

I'm mesmerized by your beauty so much that I still can't hear your words. All I focus on is your intense blue eyes I love to look into, your dirty blonde hair I want to mess with, and your lips I want to kiss. I know you're busy talking to them right now, but I want to wrap my arms around your chest and kiss your neck. I want to run them over your strong chest and feel your skin tense, warm up to my touch, and cover itself with short-lived goosebumps. I want to leave a trail of kisses over your neck and shoulders. 

I want to kiss your back while my hands slip underneath the waistband of your flannel pants. How can I want and desire a man as much as I do you, my hybrid? How is it that all I ever want is to be close to you? I could spend eternity locked in an embrace with you and I know it sounds cheesy but it's the truth, Klaus. I need your warmth, your comforting hugs, your loving kisses, and your soft and protective gaze upon me. I need you. I want you. I can't help but desire you.

You notice me and you look at me and smile. I hear my name and you move your hand inviting me to come over. A grin graces my features and I end up jumping off of the couch to run into your arms. A soft giggle escapes from my lips and I kiss you before I lean my head against your torso and wave at your family... Our family. They are happy to see me, to see us together and casually I enter the conversation. I look at you and I grin widely. I belong to you Klaus, I can feel it every day in our daily life. I can feel it when you hug me, I can feel it when you kiss me, I can feel it when we talk to our friends. I can even feel it when I'm away. I can't fully understand how it is possible, but I don't want to know because I don't need to. I am in love with you and that's all I know.

Klasma: what else?

 The witch curled her fingers into a ball. She knew that a couple of witches had been tailing her but they were young, way too young to actually try and attack them. It was a game for these young girls, a way for them to challenge each other into doing something wild. They noticed the witch and picked up her powerful aura but couldn't figure out which type of supernatural creature she was. Some thought she was a vampire while others speculated about being a werewolf, but witch had not crossed their thoughts.  She let them come closer to her and before they knew what was happening to them, she ussed her magic to confused their minds. It wasn't right for children to be so close to danger like that and she didn't want to be responsible for their deaths. 

She didn't want to be the one to kill them. It always worked like that, rogue witches found her and without missing a beat, she always ended up alone, alive and standing before their dead bodies. She refused to let these young girls lose their lives because they met with the Cursed One. She didn't want to take their lives because she knew she would end up regretting it, just like she regretted the lives she took during her "void era".  It just couldn't keep happening! As the teenagers, still confused, asked for directions and she gently pointed  the other way, the witch felt a pang in her heart. She was old enough to become a mentor and unfortunately her knowledge was not to be shared with anyone given her nature. It saddened the witch who simply turned around to wipe some fresh tears that had pooled in her eyes. It was a painful reminder of what she had lost, a coven.... sisterhood... All that was left for her was Klaus and even him could prove to be difficult to keep around. 

Klasma: There was nothing left

The witch was standing still,  eyes wide open and heart beating fast against her ribcage. There was a mess on the floor, books and pieces of furniture torn apart, a fire started on the carpet but was quickly snuffed by the witch. Glass from a mirror was shattered and paintings were lying on the floor. She was bleeding from the cuts on her hands and her face because of the glass. It didn't matter to her. She could barely hear her own heartbeats and she could barely see anything because of her blurred vision. They argued they fought... and all that was left was a messed-up room and a witch standing in the middle of it, stunned... shocked....scared. 

She wasn't sure about something Klaus said, but maybe he mentioned leaving her. He mentioned that her companionship was dreadful and he couldn't have it anymore. Was he sincere? Was he just fucking with her? She didn't know, she wasn't sure anymore. All she could say was that they argued, they were mean to each other, he lashed out and she did too. Her anger took the best of her and now he was gone and Nëela wasn't sure about where he went. He made it clear that he didn't want to see her and she couldn't feel him in the house anymore. It was the first time he actually chose to leave her after an argument and the witch didn't know what to do. All she could think about was how painful that was, to be left, to be reviled...Her feelings for Klaus were true and intense at that point. She accepted the fact she was in love with him and she didn't want to be alone ever again. 

Yet she was. 

He left. 

Her heart was beating so hard against her ribcage that it was starting to hurt. She could feel her heartbreak by the second as she realized that Klaus had rejected her. It was her fault, no matter what he said that set her off, it was her fault. She couldn't take that thought off of her mind as she looked around her and saw the destruction she caused. The house was her and she was the house, broken, alone, helpless. It would have been difficult for the witch, to actually form a coherent thought. Her soul was scattered in each fragment of furniture and glass and paper on the floor. She screamed, her first actual reaction before Nëela just fell to the floor. She gathered some strength to sit on her heels but as soon as she did, the witch wailed her heart out.  Her curse was definitely unbreakable. Klaus seemed to be out of the curse's reach but it just took longer to get there. She heard the voices of the dead witches in her head, mocking her, tearing her confidence apart as they pointed out how even the worst of them all "Niklaus Mikaelson" couldn't even stand her.  That made her scream again and cry until they dried. There was nothing left... nothing... No one.

-TBC-

Nëela Olusegun Aesthetics

"Nëela Olusegun: The Cursed Witch."

825 years of a cursed life.

An Original met, A hybrid found.

825 years of a painful life.

Touch-deprived and alone.

825 years of constant renewal,

Spring after Spring with no time to settle.

A life she needed to turn over.

Klasma Headcanon: Nëela's desire for a family // klaus' peaceful face.

 Klaus' peaceful face when he's asleep is something the witch would never grow tired of. She loves that he can be at peace with her. She loves that he can feel safe enough to drift into a peaceful slumber. It doesn't always happen but when it does, she counts her blessings.

xxx

It is unheard of a hybrid to have natural offsprings. 

It is unheard of a cursed witch to find a creature willing to mate with her and give her a child. 

It is not something Nëela is thinking of, not that she doesn't want to become a mother someday, but because her life has been so difficult and so lonely for centuries that she is convinced she would never be able to become a mother.

So it became a dream she buried deep inside her. A thought she wouldn't dare say out loud in fear of worse things to come.

Klasma: attempting to make her feel better -ElijahxNëela-

 "I don't matter."

Nëela's cracked voice echoed through the living room she and Elijah occupied. He had tried to rekindle his connection with her in a more controlled environement but she had given him the cold shoulder treatment. He understood her anger and acknowledged that he could have done better all those centuries ago but it irritated him to see such a drastic change in the way she behaved around him. The witch who once was bubbly and happy around him was now very cold and silent. She avoided him like a plague and while it annoyed the Original when she was confrontational, Elijah was starting to miss it. He was missing her. Her words felt like a punch in the gut and he furrowed his brows, ready to refute her claim. 

"Nonsense! You do matter."

"Oh... When I am useful to you, that is true." -She sarcastically pointed out. He snarled and cleared his throat.- "what is it? You don't like when I am dishing you some truths?"

"You can't say that you don't matter to me unless I need something from you."

She put the magazine she was reading on her lap and turned to face the Original who was sitting on the chair nearby. Her golden orbs stared at him with a hint of defiance and rage. She was hurt by his words, angry even and he realized that he might have said the wrong things. 

"Please, pray tell, what did you do to show me that I mattered to you?"

"I... visited."

"Only when you needed a spell or a potion or to save your family over and over again."

"I asked you how you were doing!" -He accused, his fists clenched. That made her shake her head and darkly chuckle.-

"Small talk, just to get me going! Elijah, you never really cared for me. If you did, you would have seen me more than on the occasional "I need your help" courtesy visit! You would have known what I like and what I don't like by now! You would have introduced me to your family!" -She accused, her forefinger pointed at him-

That....He couldn't justify hiding her existence to the rest of his family. Well, technically, the older vampire could have done it. It was best for the rest of them not to know about her life if he wanted to keep an asset in his pocket. He needed her to be safe and isolated from his family's shenanigans and various enemies. He needed her to remain a secret because once she wasn't, look what happened! Still, all of these would sound like excuses to her and he didn't want her to be more upset because of him. Elijah hated feeling like he failed something, he was not at ease sharing a house with someone who once was someone he cared about -with ulterior motives- and not be able to talk to her.  He didn't like to see the pain on her face, and for the first time since he met her, he genuinely hated to see her in pain. 

"I should have introduced you, I know I messed up and I apologize for keeping you a secret for so long."

"Damn right you should have! Do you know how it hurt me to hear that nobody in your freaking family knew who I was? I helped them several times and they didn't even know my name! I was nothing! I was nothing! To them! To you! To no one! I am nothing!" She raised her voice and the walls started to tremble. He saw the veins protuding on her hands and neck, he could see the strain on her face because she was literally in pain due to her anger and curse. 

"I never noticed you wanted a friend. I thought that seeing you from time to time was enough for us. I-- miscalculated." -She yelled at his words and started to sob. He stood up and tried to come closer to her but she put her hand before her, silently asking him to stop where he was- 

"I didn't want a friend! I needed a friend! I thought you were a friend, Elijah! I thought you considered me one to you. But you made me into a tool! a tool!  And now that I am close to Klaus, you want to get close to me again?? I felt indebted to you, Elijah, because you saved me... because you talked to me and you considered me as a person. You broke my heart! Fuck! You broke my heart!" She accused and stood up swiftly.- "I can't look at you right now! I have to go!" -She left the living room and Elijah didn't follow her because he felt that she didn't want to see him again.

At least she talked to him, didn't she? 

At least...

40 facts about Nëela Olusegun

40 FACTS ABOUT  NEELA OLESUGUN

A/N: All usual disclaimers!!!!!!! it's just for fun! Nëela belongs to me, always

xxx

1. She has long forgotten her true name. She wouldn't even answer it if she was called that.

2. She is a powerful witch, far more powerful than she's given credit for. 

3. Nëela is connected to the goddess Hecate. Her magic is the most powerful when she's fully worshipping the goddess.

4. She also gets her powers from the thirty lives of the witches merged with hers.

5. Nëela is very blunt. She doesn't lie because holding onto her emotions would hurt her more than expressing them. So she doesn't hide lies and doesn't hold back.

6. Her scent is a pleasant reminder of dawn.

7. She's very aloof because the very nature of her curse makes it impossible for her to bond with others. Every time she tried, they always betrayed her, died because of her, turned on her, or feared her.

8. She considers herself a healer but she also has a darker side. when she's upset, angry, or vengeful, Nëela relishes the pain she inflicts on others.

9. Nëela lost her family to Klaus' murderous rampage. For a long time, she wanted revenge on him but her curse made her understand what he was going through.  She then decided to help him instead.

10. Elijah rescued her from a rape attempt. That is the origin of her bond with him.

11. Elijah is very upset that Klaus discovered his secret. He used to consider Nëela as a useful tool and an asset to keep close and monitor from a distance. Unfortunately, Klaus exposed him and severed Elijah's relationship with Nëela.

12. She is in love with Klaus Mikaelson.

13. Despite her disappointment and heartbreak over Elijah's true feelings about her (He never saw her as a friend and didn't even mention her existence to his siblings.), Nëela deeply cares about him and about his family. 

14. She dreams of living a quiet life, in a mansion where she would be Klaus' muse, eat cheese and drink wine. 

15. She has been extremely lonely and it has impacted her more than she lets on.

16.  Nëela still has a little savior complex. She needs to white-knight anyone she meets who needs help.

17. When she's in a vengeful mode she looks terrifying. Her eyes are glowing so brightly that they look like two golden pools of light. She sports a slasher smile and her voice is deeper.

18. Nëela is touch-deprived and is very much sensitive when it comes to touch.

19. She rarely apologizes, because she has a big ego. However, when she does it is serious business.

20. She's tried to stay away from others to protect them and to save her peace of mind but no matter what, Nëela needs company so she tried to befriend people. It always ended badly except with the Mikaelsons.

21. Her real hair color is black but she always dyes her hair pink to blend in. Turns out as time goes by, it would become her most defining feature.

22. Nëela has a familiar which is a cat. He doesn't appear much because he works better in the astral plane. 

23. She doesn't want to turn into a vampire. She wants to remain a human witch.

24. Upon being introduced to the Mikaelsons, she would get closer to Rebekah and Freya. Elijah would work hard on rekindling his relationship with her and Kol still keep his distance from her.

25. Nëela is fully aware of her sex appeal and would never hesitate to take advantage of it. 

26. She thinks women are beautiful, and attractive and probably had tried more than once to woo one.

27. Nëela is always seen brewing potions, learning spells, and training. She keeps herself sharp and ready.

28. She loves chocolate, it's literally what could buy you peace with her.

29. She is 825 years old and has been living a very long life

30. Nëela has a vintage beauty about her. She looks like one of those fine paintings women people revered in the past.

31. She can be very clingy when she cares about someone.

32. She used to be very cheerful and curious about the world. Since then, it has taken some work to bring that side of her out.

33. Nëela tends to lose control of her powers when she's feeling extremely good (during sex) and when she's angry. Usually, it's her telekinesis that takes over and she breaks furniture, breaks glass, and breaks anything that is in her way.

34. Nëela is terrified of being abandoned by Klaus. She finally has some company and she doesn't want to lose it. Besides, she is in love with him, so obviously, she doesn't want to lose him.

35. She is hunted down by a coven of rogue witches who seek her destruction and have been for centuries.

36. She tends to lose her trail of thoughts when she's distracted. Usually by something pleasant. She would not finish her sentence when she was feeling really good.

37. Nëela is badass. She went face to face against witches and werewolves/ hybrids who had kidnapped Klaus. She fought them, got injured, and kept going. She will stop at nothing until she gets what she wants. What's a little blood, after all? 

38. She dresses in jeans and t-shirts but she cleans up nicely when it's time to go on a date. Klaus has yet to see her dress to the nines.

39. It takes a long time for her to truly know how she feels. She is in love with Klaus but doesn't recognize it just yet. It will take her some time before she does but once she does she will not give up on those feelings.

40. She is rather blunt with what she thinks of others and doesn't hesitate to tell them exactly how it is. 

Klasma: wounded

I shouldn't believe your words, I know you spit them at me out of anguish and pain. 

I shouldn't take them personally, I know it, yet it hurts still and it hurts really badly. 

So I take the words as I would take the swords. I let you stab me with your truth.

I let you rip me apart limb by limb, I let you paint me with the darkest brush you have.

I let you pretend that I am the monster that preys on your suffering, 

A white knight who pretends she can help people when she's feasting on their pain.

I let you pretend that I am a monster who is looking for your downfall, waiting until you're weak enough.

I let you pretend that I don't care about you and that I am using you for what you can bring me. 

Power, is it? Fame, is it? Keep on finding new ways I could be using you, Klaus. 

I know you're used to others pretending they care because they need you. 

Truth be told, I do need you but not for something you can give me. I need you for you. 

I need you because I love you! yet I know that you won't believe me because why would I love you? 

What's there to love inside you? I watch you lie to yourself, convince yourself that you're unloveable.

When I know it's not the truth, how could it be since I fell in love with you? 

I shouldn't believe your words, I know you lash out at me out of anguish and pain. 

I know that you don't believe a word that you scream at me, but the truth is, It's hurting me. 

I cry before you, eliciting nothing but your contempt since you believe these tears are fake.

I hold back my sobs to save the last shred of my dignity but you mock me for it.

I stay when I should be leaving. I take the verbal beating you give me and I wait for the next one.

I'm pathetic, you're right about it, but I am because I know that patience is what you need.

Patience and understanding, are two things you've been deprived of since you became the hybrid.

Love and honesty, are two things you've been denied since you ceased to be a mere mortal.

I have them in abundance and I know that you need them, you deserve them... Still... I'm in pain. 

And who will comfort me? Who will care for my broken heart? Who will care for me? 

I take and I take and I take but even I can break but nothing hurts more than to see your cold face.

nothing hurts more than to hit the wall you've built around you when I need your warmth the most.

I guess I got what I deserved. 

I guess it's my tribute for what I've done to my coven.

I guess I just have to keep to myself and get on with it.

For I'd rather be in pain if that allows you to feel better. 

I guess...

Klasma: Goodbye sweet life.

Klasma: Goodbye sweet life. 

// This is another shot at Nëela's past and how her curse ruined any and every attempt at living a normal life among people (humans or supernatural creatures) this time, it's humans again doing what they do best. 

xxxx

The witch opened her eyes wide as she could, witnessing the fire ravaging the walls of what once was her house.  She had wrapped her head with a scarf, ensuring that her features were well hidden from the crowd that had gathered around her to watch the fire. She heard the whispers of a witch killed in the fire. Little did they know that she was the one who summoned the flames to burn her assailants. It would be unwise to reveal her true self, especially when the crowd was roused and excited about burning a witch.  Her golden eyes stared at the dancing flames before her, and she found comfort in their warmth.  She should have seen it coming a few miles away when she settled in this town. People with her complexion were barely seen as people. They were intimidated into submission by most of the townfolks because they didn't belong there. It didn't deter her from trying to make herself a home there and thriving. She was a florist with the most beautiful flowers all year round, much to the surprise of her fellow tradesmen. Ladies from all walks of life and from all complexions lined up for a chance to buy a bouquet from her, which forced her under the spotlight and the scrutiny of people. 

Soon enough, townsfolk started to talk about her timeless beauty, her kind nature, and the fact animals seemed to love her which earned her the title of "princess flowers." She was a princess like in those old folks' stories where princesses were loved by animals, always surrounded by the beauty of nature and beautiful themselves. It took like wildfire and soon enough, people stopped referring to her by her name but rather by the nickname "Princess Flowers". It irritated the witch to no end, but she decided that it was best to have a pleasant nickname rather than one that would incite violence against her, so she didn't protest when people addressed her as such. She didn't protest when the line to her shop grew longer and longer and her work became more tedious. Business was booming and she was living a comfortable life. She even started to have suitors, trying to woo her into marriage. She tried to keep them at bay, hoping that no one would ever discover her true nature or that her curse would betray her. She tried to maintain a polite but distant relationship with everyone but it took one rejection to ruin it all. 

Frank was a man she trusted and cared for. He was the brother of her friend Amelia, a woman who welcomed Nëela when she first arrived in town. Frank always tagged along with her sister, ensuring her protection from bad-natured men who could have tried to hurt her.  At first, he was a bit indifferent to the witch, noting her uncanny beauty but already engaged to another woman he loved deeply. Unfortunately, the more he spent time with Amelia and her friend, the more obsessed he became with "Princess Flowers". It was so intense that Frank decided to break his engagement to his fiancée to pursue Nëela. How could he not when he dreamed of her at night? How could he not when he wanted to taste her lips? When he wanted to hold her tightly? When he wanted to protect her from the lustful eye of other men? His jealousy grew in intensity when he saw that another man was trying to woo her too. He was a white man, but not just any white man, one who had humiliated Frank a while ago when he was trying to get a job in this guy's father's industry.  Could it be that "Princess Flowers" was interested in white men? Could it be the reason she didn't want him? Frank took everything personally, he misread the situation and was blinded by his jealousy so he couldn't see that Nëela wasn't interested in Marthy Thomas. He was a customer who paid handsomely but a customer nonetheless. He might have had a one-sided crush, but Nëela knew better than to let anyone get too close to her. So she flirted but was never serious about him. Frank didn't care for all he saw was a woman he was obsessed with being kind to a man he hated with a passion. 

An incident with Amelia stoked the flames of his hatred. The woman fell out of love with Nëela because she started to suspect she was a witch. She saw an old painting of a woman who looked exactly like her friend in the living room of one of her employers. When she confronted Nëela with her finding, the witch told her that it probably was an ancestor of hers or just a woman who looked a lot like her but was not her. Amelia didn't believe her poor attempt at a lie and started to ask questions to her employer about the painting. Flattered by the question and the opportunity to brag, her employer told her that it was found in a manor at the start of the century and had been painted a few centuries before by a famous French painter.  The model was said to have been blind because she never showed her face without wearing a pair of sunglasses. Exactly the same behavior Nëela exhibited. Besides, Amelia had always been suspicious of the flowers her friend was growing. How come they never faded? No matter the season the flowers were always perfect, watered, and well-behaved. It could only be witchcraft. She shared her thoughts with her brother who took the opportunity to go and teach a lesson to the woman he "loved". 

The attack was swift. it happened so fast that Nëela had been caught off guard. Frank broke into her house, with a torch and pitchfork. He went in with a couple of his friends, three huge men with various weapons in hand.  She looked at them, at first confused by their demeanor but rather calm. When Frank explained that he knew she was a witch because Amelia found a portrait of her, she stiffened. She tried to talk them out of attacking her, out of the ludicrous idea that she was a witch but failed to do so. Instead, they became more and more convinced that she was a real witch and she was trying to bewitch her. while Frank held her at a distance by the tip of his pitchfork, the other three men started to break her furniture, to destroy her home and the safety of this place. She tried to warn them to stay away, to stop, to just leave her alone but they doubled down. Frank then warned her that he was going to teach her a lesson. First, they would destroy her home and any sense of safety she might have, and then they would hurt her. She would be violated in such a way that their names would be etched on her soul. She would then be killed and her house would be burned as a punishment for going against God.  Danger... Again. Betrayal... Again. It all came into a full circle once more and despite her best efforts to make a good life despite her curse, everything was ruined once more. 

Her body became numb, the painful truth had already done a number to her heart and mind. She had decided that no matter what, no one should know the truth about her. No one should ever confirm the rumors about her supposed witchcraft and since these four men broke into her home and destroyed her peace, she had no other choice but to get rid of them. It wasn't so much the destruction of furniture that set her off, no, it was the threat of physical violence, a violence that way too many women, little girls, and boys had suffered at the hands of vile men. It was the threat of reliving the same experience hundreds of years ago, the same one Elijah rescued her from that set her off. So she removed her sunglasses and exposed her true nature to them. Frank squealed, both excited at the sight and scared by the calm she displayed. Her golden eyes stared at him and glanced at his pitchfork. She was focused and easily took control of the weapon that flew out of his hand and into the throat of one of the men. She then swiftly closed the distance between her and Frank to punch the man, stunning him for a few seconds. She then used her powers to lift the bodies of the two other men and smash them together, knocking them out.  Frank surprised her with a punch of his own in the guts. he then realized that the torch he was holding fell on the floor when she punched him and that it started a fire.  She manipulated the flames to have them circle around him, making it impossible for him to escape, and he started to scream, insult, and bargain with her to release him. She grabbed a scarf and wrapped it around her face, covering her eyes and hair. 

Before she could cross the front door to escape, he desperately pleaded for his life, citing her friendship with his sister as a reason to let him escape. She stopped and turned to look at him. Her eyes were glowing brightly, almost turned her gaze into white pools and her voice was deeper as she coldly told him that she didn't care about traitors. She wanted to live a decent life, she thought they were good people but she saw their ugly nature the day he decided to attack and kill her because she rejected his advances. She said that she could have made their lives sweeter. She could have made sure they never lacked anything. She could have given them the world if only they were true to her but in the face of betrayal and because they tried to take her life, she would spare one to see for herself the consequences of her actions. He would die and along with him would the other men he brought into his mess. She then left and commanded the fire to burn harder and convey her anger so the whole world would see that it would not be wise to try and cross her. Yet, as she watched the flame dance, Nëela couldn't help but mourn for the life she would never recover. She couldn't help but cry for her broken heart and for yet another proof that her curse would never fade away. She would never be loved, so why bother with it? 

-TBC-

Klasma: Mother's Day

Mother's Day... 

I don't remember my mother anymore. I don't remember the sound of her voice, the color of her eyes, how her lips turned into a smile... I don't even remember her scent. Perhaps if I took a potion or cast a spell on me I could remember it all, but it seems like opening an old wound. She died more than 800 years ago, I can't possibly remember her. 

I was indifferent to the holiday, well, not exactly. It is like a crashing wave, grief that is. Sometimes I hurt and it makes the curse even more painful. Sometimes I don't feel a thing. Sometimes I am filled with regrets and anger... Sometimes I just like to see mothers being celebrated. My supreme was some sort of mother figure to me, but she betrayed me when she cursed me. All for what? For helping the Mikaelsons? For putting her teachings into practice and not harboring hatred in my heart?  How ironic is it that her life force is now entwined with mine and the 30 other witches she killed to perform her spell? How ironic is it that in a way, she's now part of me and I hear her whispers at night or when I am frightened? 

Hecate is my mother. She is the patron saint of the Witches, after all, the mother of all the Dark arts.  Hecate is the goddess I worship alongside Gaea who lends me her strength when I have to cast a spell. Hecate, at least, would not betray me and would not be forgotten. Hecate, at least, is the Mother of them all and through her, I hope, I can reach out to my own mother so she could see me in the After, behind the veil. 

Perhaps... 

I hope so.

Klasma: Beware the witch

"Magic is not for the faint of hearts. When you practice it at the level I do, you become one with it both in body and in mind. 

I always say that I am a healer, and this is true. 

However, you wouldn't want to meet me when I am angry.  You wouldn't want to face me when I target you because I promise you that when I am done with you, your soul will be begging for complete annihilation."

Klasma: A brother's fear

 Elijah crossed his arms above his chest. He didn't know what to think of the budding romance between the witch and his brother. Niklaus had loved before and all of these relationships always ended with death, heartbreak, or separation. Niklaus went on a rampage because of some of these relationships and Elijah was worried about this pairing.  Nëela had a temper of her own and the Original had been at the receiving end of her anger. He knew her words could cut deep and with how unstable his brother was, there was a chance that Niklaus would lash out in unprecedented ways.  Elijah was concerned but he felt that there was nothing he could say at the moment that could make the situation better. Klaus made it quite known that he would not leave Nëela at the mercy of his brother. She was /his/ and while Elijah perceived some malice in the tone set by Klaus, he could also see that his brother actually cared for the Witch. It wasn't just some petty issues He acknowledged that he treated Nëela badly, as if she was an afterthought and his carelessness was the reason she pushed back against him. 

He still remembered their reunion at Mystic Falls. He still remembered how angry Nëela was, the high-pitched tone of her voice, the burst of power around him, the tears he noticed but never commented on. She was stressed out when they met and so upset by his sight but he was oblivious to her plight. As he was staring at the window Elijah sighed deeply.  His little brother confronted him about Nëela a couple of hours ago and it all became clear in his eyes. Nëela had been alone most of her life. She needed company. She needed someone to know her, to care for her, to see her as someone and not just an asset. Elijah never cared for this. He never cared for her well-being and he thought that it could last for as long as he wanted. She proved him wrong and he realized that he should have treated her better. He failed his witch and by doing so, he fumbled his partnership with her and realized that it would take some time to rekindle his connection with her.  She's allied herself with his sibling and she was out of his control. The best course of action would be to keep an eye on Klaus at a distance but leave them be. But could he? 

KLASMA: worth fighting for

She burned some sage and slowly moved her arms, following her own rhythm to trace an arabesque with the smoke. She closed her eyes and quietly hummed. it was a prayer to the goddess Hecate to ask for her guidance and protection.  She needed clarity after a fog had clouded her mind for weeks. She needed to find her peace of mind. The witch was upset, far more than she was willing to admit. She wanted more from her life than just purely existing but what could she do about it? It wasn't the physical pain that bothered her the most, she could manage it, she could soothe it, she could find ways around it. No, what bothered her the most was the forced solitude. She craved company, she craved conversations, laughter, and touch. She needed to talk to people and build meaningful relationships but her curse made it impossible. Elijah was the exception and she suspected that perhaps, the originals were immune to her curse. 

Wouldn't it be rich if the ones responsible for her curse were also immune to it? Her supreme was cruel when she designed that curse, she knew that the Originals were the most selfish creatures on Earth. She knew that the Cursed One would never be able to form meaningful relations with them. They would never see her for who she really was. They would never care for her the way she would want them to. She learned her lesson with Elijah. He used her for her power, nothing more and nothing less. He always came to her when he needed her help and always left as soon as she served him well. What type of relationship was that, if not one of servitude? She knew it, deep down, that he only cared for her because she was of use... but what would happen once Elijah found another powerful asset? He would leave. He would simply just leave and she would be on her own once again.  Perhaps that was why she kept helping him, so he could come back to her and they could banter. Perhaps she couldn't help but need to listen to his voice, to have him pull her into a hug when she felt desperate. Perhaps, she just needed someone who knew her before she turned into the Cursed One. She needed someone who knew her and who wanted to see her. 

The sage calmed the witch who kept dancing. She was lost in the frenzy of her dance for it helped her forget the world around her. it helped her forget the pain that had squeezed her heart and the fear that had crept into her brain. It cleansed her mind from the nightmares that had plagued her nights.  Slowly but surely, her goddess answered her prayer. Gone were the clouds from her mind, only a blue sky remained as the witch knew what she wanted. She wanted a life with Klaus and she knew deep down that their bond was true. She knew she wanted to be with him and to make it happen, she had to prepare for a path made of heartbreaks, tears, and frustration. She knew she would have to be strong. She knew she would have to endure... but the reward was worth it. Klaus was worth fighting for. 

Klasma: She was used to her curse

 She was used to being afraid. The voices in her head, voices of the dead witches used in the ritual to curse her, always spoke to Nëela. They reminded her that she couldn't possibly be loved, that she was an abomination and would suffer for all eternity. She became used to the whispers, comfortable even in her own little personal hell. What could they say that the witch had not said to herself or heard? What new fear could they unlock when all of her fears had already been realized? Nothing. They could do nothing. 

She was used to being hurt. It took a while for the witch to accept the effect of her curse on her. It was clear cut, no human, or supernatural creature could ever accept her as one of their own from the moment they discover her true identity. And it was true. Every time the witch was discovered by a human or a supernatural creature, they all reacted the same. They all first rejected her, then tried to kill her and when it failed, they would push her out of their town.  Elijah was the first exception... Elijah was the reason for her curse but he also was the only one who welcomed her for what she was. Klaus then proved that he was immune to her curse, perhaps it was part of it, perhaps he was just unaffected by it... Either way, he welcomed her as she was. 

She was used to being feared. She believed that she had outgrown her personal hell. She believed that she was so comfortable in it that nothing and no one could surprise her. She believed a lot of things, perhaps to ignore that falling in love unlocked new fears. She was afraid to lose him, to have her heart broken... To be abandoned! And she could feel the familiar fire she used to play with, slowly start to burn her skin again.