#klaeus

Put ¥ in my ask and my muse will rate your muse on: (NO LONGER ACCEPTING)

Looks: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 Personality: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 Attraction: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 Would they date them: yes | no Favorite thing about them: That time he was dead almost Least favorite thing about them: Everything else.

you heard it here first folks, you can't have me without her. 👭 ( or stefan without klaus )

he can feel the rejection, the bitterness, the pain that's practically pouring from klaus onto him. it hurts him that he can't fix this, because it's his fault the hybrid is feeling this way. he lets the hits come, lets him finally get out what he's wanted to say for god knows how long. part of him doesn't want to push back, doesn't want to twist the knife deeper but nothing between them would ever resolve if he didn't speak up himself. ❛ i didn't tell you to wait for me, klaus. i didn't make you hold onto me like this, did i ? i get how you're feeling and i won't deny that it's not true when it is. elena will always come first but that doesn't mean i don't love you ... because i do and while you might not think it's enough, it's all i can give you. ❜ stefan wishes he could give klaus all of his love, he wishes he could love him as deeply as he's loved by him. but as long as elena's alive he knows he can't, even though he's not with her now or who's to say ever again .... the love he has for her will forever be buried inside him. he steps towards the hybrid but gives him enough space as to not corner or crowd him. he's desperate to reach for him but doesn't, not sure this conversation would benefit from his touch. ❛ i'm sorry, i am. i know there's nothing i can say to make any of this better but i had to try. i just don't know where you want to go from here. ❜

꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱ ... 𝑆𝐻𝑂𝑈𝑇-𝑂𝑈𝑇𝑆 𝑜𝑓 𝐴𝑊𝐸-𝑠𝑜𝑚𝑒.

🌈 ― 𝑎𝑒𝑠𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑡𝑖𝑐𝑎𝑙𝑙𝑦 𝑝𝑙𝑒𝑎𝑠𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑏𝑙𝑜𝑔

@sopran ... i mean, just look it. ⅋ @t-errifier ... trigger warning, but if you're okay with horror take a look.

⭐️ ― 𝑐𝑜𝑛𝑣𝑖𝑛𝑐𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑝𝑜𝑟𝑡𝑟𝑎𝑦𝑎𝑙 𝑜𝑓 𝑎 𝑐𝑎𝑛𝑜𝑛 𝑐ℎ𝑎𝑟𝑎𝑐𝑡𝑒𝑟

@klaeus ... if you know, you know ... but if you don't ... this is klaus mikaelson. everything he is and should be, expanded and filled in what cw limitations would not allow. he's voice is unmistakable in every reply ... all i gotta say now is, kiki how badly is your brain gnawed at??

💻 ― 𝑒𝑥𝑐𝑒𝑙𝑙𝑒𝑛𝑡 𝑤𝑟𝑖𝑡𝑖𝑛𝑔

@alootus ... i love padme but the movies did not have enough for her fully, truly. where media lacks, milla provides. she fleshes out padme with such tenderness and understanding. she gets to live, breathe again ... or maybe for the first time ... here. the melancholia prose here is lovely. love a sad space princess (queen, senator). — "...having put them together in a way that'd made a solid shell for her soul to both rest and bloom. the beauty with golden locks and spring green eyes shone with confidence in her statement and padmé couldn't really find any doubt within her mind — her usual melancholia had found momentary peace as she was now basking in hara's light."

🌼 ― 𝑐𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑡𝑖𝑣𝑒 ℎ𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑐𝑎𝑛𝑜𝑛𝑠

@klaeus sent:

❛ going for blood today, are we, katerina? ❜ {🐝 * ― 𝑭𝑶𝑼𝑹𝑻𝑯 𝑾𝑰𝑵𝑮 𝑺𝑬𝑵𝑻𝑬𝑵𝑪𝑬 𝑺𝑻𝑨𝑹𝑻𝑬𝑹𝑺. || accepting }

        katherine’s blood-smeared lips twitched into a defiant smirk as she stood over the body of her attacker in a new orleans alley; her curls tousled and slightly matted with this person's blood. she’d killed to survive, the ambush forcing her hand despite elijah’s promise of protection. klaus’s voice sliced through the humid night, his taunt laced with mocking delight. "thought we had a deal, klaus," she shot back, her voice sharp but edged with unease, brown eyes locking onto his. "no one was supposed to come for my throat here. guess i have to handle things myself."

       her leather jacket was dirtied as well, and her heart pounding – not just from the fight, but from klaus’s looming presence, his shadow a reminder of centuries spent running from him. living with elijah gave her fragile safety, but klaus’s unpredictable menace kept her on edge. at this moment she regretted having agreed to this so-called truce because she should have known better that klaus cannot be trusted.

✝ | | | @klaeus ⁽ klaus ₎ ↳ [ receiver is injured and sender heals them using their blood. ]

never once did cecily think she would ever find herself grasping feebly at the arm of klaus mikaelson — yet here she lies; bloodied hand curling into his flesh with a biting strength. it burns, fucking fuck, it burns — it boils in her blood, she can feel the sickness eating her like poison. site of the wolf bite is blossoming with black veins ( ... ) tendrils seeming to choke the life from a flower of splotchy purples. nothing has been this painful since her transition; cecily writhing against hardwood floors as she struggles to spit a word free. ❛ ❛ help m-me, or kill me. pl– ease. ❜ ❜ ( just end it, god, end it — ) she wants to scream, pain festering &. splintering until she's gasping on her own words. wide gaze bears into the original knelt at her side, cecily gripping him with enough ferocity to leave bloodied crescent marks. she'd meant it; eight hundred years on this earth, &. willing to take the permanence of death over suffering through this pain for a moment longer.

when klaus wrenches his arm from her grip, she watches through blurred vision – slowly going dark at the edges – as his fangs tear into the meat of his own wrist. dark blood pours forth, dripping down pale arm in a macabre display of power. something about it occurs as gruesomely beautiful to cecily, ( — or you're just high on the festering infection ... this seems more likely ). mangled wound at the junction of her neck &. shoulder swelters with heat, nearly blinding her with the pain ( ... ) cecily is close to losing consciousness when his bloodied arm is finally pressed to her lips. with no hesitation, she drinks; eager for this cure to her affliction regardless of who is giving it. she can feel the poison waning, the heat letting off, &. the sudden rush of relief that overcomes cecily is enough to finally allow the darkness to consume her. with lips stained red &. gruesome wound now mending itself slowly, cecily's eyes fall closed — head lolling backwards.