Current State: In Love With Klaus Mikaelson

Current state: in love with 👹Klaus Mikaelson👹

loving you is all I know

[klaus mikaelson x reader]

summary: all you could smell was blood. your skin was stained with it. your clothes drenched. what you needed was the silence and him. but he didn't seem to trust you on that.

pairing: klaus mikaelson x fem!supernatural!reader

w.c: 2K

warnings/content: graphic descriptions of violence; blood; injuries; mentions of dissociation during a specific moment; self-blame; fear of abandonment and not being enough for one to stay; lots of hurt/the comfort; murder talk; there's fluff (if you trust me); mentions of biting (lovebites!).

A/N: this turned darker than I expected it to. it was supposed to be a soft blurb but it became a lot more serious and complex. so go ahead, I hope you enjoy my view of klaus mikaelson <;3

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“May I help?”

Klaus peaked through the bedroom door. you noticed his voice wasn't as assertive as it had been before, it never was when it was directed at you. His tone never carrying an edge or a hint at something other than care.

When the killing spree happened the wolf could be seen inside his eyes, anger radiating off of every limb of his body as he tore off arms, legs and heads. You watched quietly as a smile spread on his lips when all was done. The blood was spilled and he was satisfied.

You weren't mad. You weren't horrified. You were used to it— unfazed by now. Klaus has never been a monster in your eyes, you've seen it yourself how kind his heart could be. How deeply he cared.

After a thousand years of being alive, your way of reacting to things may change. His were just a little bit... Unconventional.

Your eyes caught your reflection through the mirror. Blood. In your shirt. In your hands. In your face. You could smell the iron and you bet that anyone — vampire or not — could also smell it from thirty miles away.

Fuck.

You shouldn't be that affected by it. You've been bloodied before. You've entered situations like that before. Why were you so frozen now?

“Love.”

A knock on the bathroom door made you flinch, wrapping your arms around yourself in a form of protection. I'm home. I'm safe.

“I'm just going to take a bath,” you let out softly, unbuttoning your stained t-shirt. You didn't remember which color it was anymore, it was just deep red now.

“May I help?” the door creaked open, his hesitation to come in was clear. And you couldn't judge, you did looked like a wounded animal that would run away at any approach. “I can prepare the water the way you like it.” He bargained.

You heard the guilt in his voice and your heart clenched. None of that had been his fault. And still, he blamed himself for how you felt. You knew he did.

“Klaus,” you said, lifting a hand to touch the door handle. “I'm fine.”

“You're not." He paused. “And that's completely understandable.”

You wanted to be mad at him. Why had he give that affirmation with such certainty? But he wasn't wrong, was he? He just knew you too well.

“If you'd like to be alone, I can leave. Just know that I'm here whenever you need me.”

You might as well have lunged towards the door, fully opening it and grabbing his wrist, stopping him from leaving. “No,” you retorted, the other hand wrapping around his arm to bring him closer. It's you. It's you that I need. “Stay.” The words left your mouth in a whisper. “Please?”

He didn't need to be told twice.

“Okay.”

His touch was gentle as he helped you take off your clothes. You knew he was afraid to hurt you, more than you already was hurt — barely any physical wounds though. Those would heal quickly.

You don't know how long you spent immersed on the bath, after taking a shower to clean yourself from the all the blood. Your lashes laid shut in your cheeks as your mind finally seemed to give you some rest. Not only that, but Klaus's fingers massaging your scalp while he washed your hair was what made you drift off.

“Love.”

He brushed some of your wet strands away from your face, leaning down to kiss your temple. “Let's dry you up.” You hummed, leaning into his touch unconsciouslly.

“I want to stay here,” You retorted, raising a hand until it reached the back of his head, you started playing with his baby hairs. “Forever. May I?”

“You may do whatever you wish, my darling,” his breath grazed the back of your ear. “I'm only here to make it come true.”

The corner of your lips lifted slightly. A while later you turned to look at him, a silent request. pressing his lips to your cheek softly, he cupped you up in his arms, gaining a loud protest about ruining his shirt. He didn't care, he had plenty of those to spare.

“Is this one good?”

“Mhm.”

One of Klaus's shirt covered your upper body as you buried yourself in the sheets, sighing in delight. Oh, I'm home.

But something's missing — You thought, running a hand on the empty side of the bed.

Before you could call out for him, he arrived at your side, hands roaming over your the small of your back, pulling your body towards his. You went willingly, breathing into his familiar scent. A mix of cashmere wood and after-shave. There you are. you wrapped your arms around his middle, head tucked into his shoulder.

But before you let your body and mind rest for the day, you needed to say something. Or rather, he needed to hear something from you.

“It wasn't your fault,” you begin, tracing random patterns in his shaved jaw. The skin was smooth and he looked so young when he did it. “I know what's happening inside your head right now. I can see the cogs turning.” You let out the last part in a low voice, tapping the side of his head playfully. He looked down at you, studying your features with an unreadable expression. You didn't like because that meant he did not agreed with your statement. However, you'd take it because it also meant he was willing to listen to what you had to say. “You didn't hurt me, Klaus. If you hadn't gotten there, I'd be worse than I was. You saved me.” You inhale deeply. “There's nothing that you could do that would drive me away. I knew who you were before I met you. I chose you and I'd choose you again and again for as long as you allow me to.”

He interrupted you by cupping your face and bringing your lips to his. The kiss was warm and inviting at the same time. But it didn't gave indication to anything else, he just wanted you to know that he believed in your claim — or at least, he was trying to.

“The blood, it— it scared me,” you said, choosing to be sincere as well. That's what he always asked of you after all. That's what you asked of each other. “You know, when I'm fighting back, my brain shuts off. It works more like a... robotic reaction if you know what I mean.”

He nodded, encouraging to carry on.

“It sort of turns off during it and when the adrenaline wears off I'm just... Knackered.” you pause. “I'm working on it. It's a process. The point is: I don't blame you for what happened.”

“Sometimes, I think you should. You are allowed to.” Klaus argued. “My last name puts a target on your back. Everywhere you go. Haven't you ever considered how easier it was to live your life before I walked into it?”

“I have considered it. Yes,” You admit. The pace of his heartbeat quickening slightly. “But that is just a fact. And in the past. A past where I'd never go back to because you weren't in it. Precisely because you weren't in it. Klaus,” you said almost pleadingly. “I would've took off the moment I heard your name if I wanted to. Your reputation precedes you, darling.” He let out a scoff and you smirked. “But you have never been what people said. Not to me. You are kind, despite your stubborness in believing in that. You are protective, god forbid a threat to your family. And most of all, you are loveable.” You could see his jaw clench as he looked away. That wouldn't stop you. “You deserve love and you deserve to be cared for. You also deserve me even if you keep telling yourself otherwise.” You had to tilt your head to meet his dark blue eyes, he was too busy acting like a toddler avoiding your gaze. Your grin widened when you succeeded.

“I love you, Klaus Mikaelson.” You said, pecking his left cheek. “My life is exactly the way I'd want it to be,” then his right one. “...I don't want easier. I want you. I hope someday you get that through your thick thousanth-year skull.”

“Are you calling me old?” He poked your hip, making you squirm and slap his chest in response. A hoarse chuckle reverberated through the room.

“I saw you blush. Tickling me isn't going to change that.”

“You saw no such thing.”

“I did.”

“Did not.”

“You sound like a child—” a sound of surprise let your mouth as he switched you over. His arms supporting his weight as he kissed down your neck passionately, lowering to your torso. Your shirt lifted slightly.

“There's something you need to know.” he said gravelly, mouth working on your skin with diligence. You shivered at the soft bite on your stomach, he marked you there twice, fingers grazing the lovebites. When he looked back at you, he didn't have that haunting look in his eyes anymore. Something softer laid there. Conviction. “I love you,” he said, laying back at your side. “And you're brave. You're strong. There's situations we can't control how we feel or what we do. You said that I saved you. But you save me every single day just by being here. By choosing me.”

You blink up at him, not expecting those words. Communication was something essential in your relationship. That's why you were having this conversation in the first place, but hearing him say that you saved him was just— you didn't expect it. You didn't imagine he felt like that.

“I'm not letting you go anywhere. don't fool yourself.” He gave you a smug smile and you shook in laughter by the abrupt change. From love confession to murderous threat. “You are too involved.” You are half of me. You have half of me. Who would I be if you left? What part of me would survive? “i'd have to kill you.” He watched fondly as your face twitched with joy.

“Oh?” You lifted your head, chin resting against the back of your hands on his chest. “Really? That'd be a dilemma.” Your eyes glinted wickedly. “Better start now, Mikaelson. But have it mind that I'm always a step ahead of you.”

He couldn't even deny that.

“Are you?” He teased, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. You grinned up at him, eyes wrinkling at the edges. Bloody hell. I'm done for. His brain screamed. “You're so bloody beautiful,” his eyes softened, a finger touching your lower lip. “I couldn't imagine my life without you in it.” Even if you decide to go one day. And it will destroy me. It will wreck every barrier I've ever build. “I love you. Always and forever.”

You laid your lips on his, kissing him slowly, gently. The world around you becoming dust while the only real palpable thing was his body and your touch.

And there it is. his mind flaring with you without his control, a dangerous combination but he was too far gone to be able to fight it.

“I love you too,” you breathed into his mouth, your grip on each side of his neck tightening as if you feared he'd slip away. Your body relaxing on his. “Always and forever.”

Klaus and Cami are literally the variants of Lucifer and Chloe. No I will not elaborate

I'm surprised nobody has asked this question yet, unless I missed it, in which case, my bad.

The little mermaid who

Waves Crashing Down — a Klaus Mikaelson Fanfiction. Part One: Introduction

Summary: A gorgeous, lethal siren watches Klaus pace around New Orleans’ beach. Curious of his power and beauty, she seeks him out.

Author's Note: I want it to be known that in terms of my characters’ appearances, I like to describe bodies like mine as there is very little rep. I’m very buxom, and I’m going to describe my characters the same way. Please do keep in mind the mention of buxom characters is not inherently sexual. Having large breasts, being a tad bit chubby, or rather, whatever you look like does not make you an object. All bodies are beautiful, and you can think of these characters whichever way you like. Thank you.

Enjoy,

Ginger Xx

In the beginning, you believed that we were mere birds, flying free in the sky with the face of a beautiful woman, our song taking hostage of the air, elevating your spirits and pulling you into your demise. You claimed that Odysseus had his sailors tie himself to a post so that he could stand awake and listen to our callings as if cheating death was ever that easy. You claimed that the source of who we are was by your God’s mighty hand. This we find interesting. You know you cannot escape the vibrations, the sounds of hungry divinity, not even Yahweh. We were always so hungry, so hungry for gentle violence and the cold, bitter taste of your flesh, be it a simple, unproblematic man, or be it your God.

Over time, your accuracy seemed to mature. You discovered that we were sea creatures, lurking in the darkest corners of the ocean, awaiting you, always ready to open up our deathless mouths and let death lure you into our cruel arms because we are hungry.

Do not mistake this as an acceptance of your perception, the image of us you harbour. But do believe that we see how gorgeous you look when the life is leaving your sweet eyes, your bodies half-empty and gentle, your clutch on us desperate, needy, your minds turbulent. It takes us to heaven and back each and every time.

And when the song comes to a close and you are gone, we recline in the sea or on the shoreline for just a little while until our fingertips twitch with hot desire all over again. Call it our duty. Call it evil — we don’t care. We desire consumption, and you are always needy to be consumed, even the most powerful of you… even most he who believes he is above the gorgeous and brutal song of the siren.

New Orleans 2010s…

Ivy rose her head a little above the water, her nose still breathing in the sea. The sound of the sand being pushed down as a man strolled across the beach near the shore had piqued her interest, her hunger, and she recognised him immediately. This was the one they called untouchable, ruthless. The man who couldn’t be killed.

His presence alone was powerful, a testament to his infamous past. She saw that his face was twisted into an expression of anger, his hand at his mouth. He was beautiful, his rage like steam entering the air and threatening it without him having to say a word — his energy alone commanded that around him. His hair was golden underneath the glow of the evening sun, and his attire was entirely noir, which only put more of an emphasis on his soft features. His rosey cheeks, his plump lips, his mean blue eyes — Ivy was struck. She narrowed her eyes, squinting them a little bit as he walked further along the New Orleans beach.

She watched him pass, her head turning in line with his walking until eventually, he had left the beach, a phone to his ear yelling about some deal. His roar was monstrous, his hand shooting at the sky in rage. Ivy’s eyebrows tugged together. What would he taste like?

Her attention shifted when she could sense another man — this one not strong and not angry — heading for the shore. Ivy’s lips parted and then breathed out the opening notes to her calling.

Every siren had a unique voice to match their differing personalities. They had a different technique to taking their victims. Some would sing in a sweet, high voice, the sound of youthful innocence seeping into the victims mind, enchanting them and stirring a desire to control who the voice belonged to before the siren flipped the script. Others would sing in a husky, low tone, the voice stirring the sailor into an almost conscious submission. And the rest were varying shades of danger in between.

Ivy loved the lethality of ambiguity; of singing in a both rich and husky song in a very high key, of making it impossible to know whether she was dominant or submissive. Seducing the man was pathetically easy. She loved possessing big blue doe eyes that could transform at any moment with pretty, plump lips that could pull into a devilish grin. In this, she could adapt to each individual victim, become who she needed to become in order for the killing to be most satisfactory.

As the man, locked in a trance, neared closer and closer to the sea, Ivy climbed onto a rock, flipping back her long, thick ginger hair as she rose from the water. Her song intensified, upping the key even higher. Ivy curled her brows up, her doe eyes big and needy as she reached out for the man.

The man climbed onto the rock, soaked in both the water and Ivy’s song. Ivy wrapped her hands around the man, one around his back and the other around his neck.

Sometimes the siren will let a victim kiss her, but this one didn’t possess enough beauty for intimacy, so the killing commenced immediately. Ivy’s grip on the man’s neck tightened, the man gasping for air, looking half terrified and half in love. His arms were at her waist, right above where her black tail began.

The waves were lull as the man in her arms died. She pulled him into the sea, watching the life drain from his eyes intently, innocently, as if it were not her claw around his neck. A small smile carved on her lips before she sunk her teeth into the man, the warmth of his blood coaxing a moan from the siren. His hands dropped off of her waist, and Ivy ravished him until he were mere bones floating in the ocean.

Ivy was sitting on the rocks, brushing her hair with a golden fork she found. She was watching the empty beach, bathing in the summer moonlight. The moon coaxed a glimmer on her black tail, as well as the pearl-coloured large shells on her chest that held her breasts. Her hair was almost dry, settling in its loose curls. Her mind was lull as it contemplated no violence, her body desiring nothing as she reclined. She was serene.

“Ivy, whatever are you doing, hm?” asked another siren as she climbed on the rocks next to Ivy.

“I’m just sitting, Thana. You have a little blood on your lip.”

“Oh! Thank you.” Thana exclaimed with a giggle before wiping off the blood. “Goodness, I was so hungry. Do you ever leave this rock?”

“Sometimes.”

Sirens are not all evil; they have hearts. However their empathy is only extended to each other and the sea. They form bonds with each other, some even choosing to hunt together, effortlessly doubling the power of the siren, their voices harmonising with each other and augmenting the power of it all. And when it comes to the ocean, they do all in their power to protect it, killing off and throwing out any threats. Thana and Ivy were always very close, though, Ivy preferred to spend most of her time alone. It was simply who she was.

Ivy turned her head to look at her friend. She had black short hair to her shoulders in tight curls, a beautifully soft structured face, very dark skin and a purple tail. The shells on her chest were the same colour.

“It’s cleansing, don’t you think? With all the men we eat, one needs to cleanse herself from time to time. You never know what they get up to before their foot touches the shore.” Ivy said.

Thana was deep in thought for a short time. “You’re very right, Ivy. Everyone knows that man is the most despicable creature.” she finally remarked.

“And yet, the most delicious.”

“Haha! So delicious. Well, I’m off to go for a swim. New Orleans is boring me. Come find me soon, my sweet, yeah?” Thana said as she began making her way off the rock and back into the ocean.

Ivy nodded before going back to watching the beach and brushing her hair, and that’s when she saw him again.

I officially became Odahviing's simp when the first thing he did after I trapped him on that bdsm trap on Dragonsreach was mock me for not having tHe dovah spEecH

Oh yeah, totally.

Especially because Candice herself said the "ship" was never intented to be romantic, but after their first interaction in 3x11 the fans got crazy over them so the writers started feeding them with this crazy ass couple that wasn't even a couple in the first time.

Aka = klaroline has been fanservice from the beginning lmao, every other Klaus ship is a thousand times better. Even that hookup with Genevieve or his crush on Tatia had more impact to the plot than klaroline did.

And I don't see that chemistry the fans claim they have. Caroline looks uncomfortable 85% of their interactions, and Klaus literally snaps to her whenever she proves she isn't the weird image he created in his mind.

He always wanted her for sex, he never bothered to check on her for a reason after their weird fuck on the woods and don't bring up Pl*c saying that "Caroline was a big relationship for Klaus and continues to linger in his heart and in his brain" or any of her corny "canon" quotes about Klaroline because she also said in Twitter that Damon never rapped Caroline, which is clearly bullshit.

Y'all only bring in that racist bitch when it's convenient 🤡

But either way, they're so fucking weird and I won't get into that Legacies au where they're married because they literally brought out the worse in each other, proving that your ship is as toxic and pathetic as we claim it to be.

And he hadn't even meet Hayley or Cami in that universe, aka really important women in his life that made a significant change on him that don't involve having sex with him against a tree, so yeah.

Klaroline is centered entirely around Tyler

I feel like a lot the people who hate klaroline (as they should) really don't understand the foundation of the ship which is why it's labeled as something that doesn't make sense/random, and the reason for that is the Tyler of it all.

Like of course when delusional shippers or anyone really think Klaus was actually in love with Caroline or even liked her in the first place at least initially it's easy then to label it at something that doesn't narratively make sense because it's not explained why he took interest in her , but the thing is the writers knew that which is why we have only like two to three semi subtle cues explaining the basis of the ship but it's unfortunately buried under a tons of fan service especially within the huge fan base

So basically klaroline's first interaction that sparked that cursed ship is 3x11, it's right after Tyler is first seen standing up to Klaus and showing clear rebellion against Klaus enslaving him that he first orders him the bite his girlfriend before showing up at her house etc, all that he knows about her is that she's a random "pretty" teenager which is why he's for no reason on a mission to woo her with all sorts of gifts, since basically he doesn't know shit About her, he's never shown to be physically attracted to her despite seeing her around before and only gave two fucks about her when he wanted to put Tyler in his place, then you have him almost murder her again in season 4 to "teach Tyler a lesson the hard way" and these are his words, like my guy was willing to kill her if it meant humbling Tyler💀 he Brags about how he hurt Tyler to Elijah by "sleeping with his girl", he tells Caroline he couldn't stop thinking about her but the moment they finally fuck he dips lmao??

Even throughout the whole thing Klaus is like "Tyler isn't enough for you, you want to see the world instead bla bla" because he doesn't know her or even actually cared to know her beyond what he sought from her which is literally just to put Tyler in his place and he thrived on the chase, the fact that he failed to get the teenage girl to give in , he was willing to murder her to get back at Tyler, he attempted to sexually assault her and left happy after he finally slept with her

But of course the shippers see the hot villain gift horse paintings to this random ass teenager and they go "he's so in love with her😍"

This whole rant is basically because I'm tired of Klaus's feelings for Caroline being painted as "love" among both fans and antis , I get that he at best might have developed more of a soft spot for her but that was all it was tbh , they have no moments showing actual love/no moments of Klaus taking the time of day to consider her feelings nor does he go out of his way to do anything for her, Caroline was simply a prize to be won out of his grievances with her boyfriend, if Tyler was dating any other pretty girl Klaus would've went after her for the simple fact she's Tyler's gf and he felt the need to humble him