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shouldn’t be here | k.m

⎯⎯ “Loving you is the only thing in my long, cursed existence that has ever felt easy. The only thing that’s ever made sense.”

warnings: light angst and light fluff

It was one of those rare, still nights in New Orleans, where the hum of the city seemed to pause, holding its breath as if the universe was waiting for something to shift. Klaus sat in his study, a half-finished canvas propped in front of him, the brush in his hand poised mid-stroke. The painting was chaos—streaks of crimson and shadow twisting in violent harmony. It reflected his mood perfectly: restless, unsettled, longing.

He hadn’t seen you in weeks, not since your last fight. Not since he’d let his temper get the better of him and said things he didn’t mean. He hated himself for it. For the way he’d watched your face crumble and your voice crack as you told him you needed space.

And so, he’d given you space. It was the one thing Klaus Mikaelson was terrible at—waiting. But for you, he would endure it. He would endure anything.

The quiet knock at the door shattered his thoughts. Klaus froze, his heart thundering as though it recognized something before his mind could catch up.

When he opened the door, there you were.

You looked tired, rain-slicked and windswept, but so achingly beautiful that his breath caught in his throat. You didn’t speak right away, your eyes searching his face as if you were trying to decide whether you were ready to confront the man who had the power to break you, even as he tried so hard to piece you back together.

“I shouldn’t be here,” you said finally, though you didn’t move to leave.

“Perhaps not,” Klaus replied, his voice quiet, his accent curling around the words like silk. “But you are, and that’s enough.”

Your lips pressed together, frustration flickering across your features. “You’re impossible, you know that?”

He smirked faintly, though it didn’t reach his eyes. “I’ve been told.”

You sighed, stepping into the room and brushing past him. The scent of rain and something distinctly you filled the air, and Klaus’s hands clenched at his sides to keep himself from reaching for you.

“I needed time,” you began, your back to him as you looked around his study. Your gaze landed on the unfinished painting, the jagged chaos of it, and you frowned. “And you gave it to me.”

“Because I knew you needed it,” he said, his voice low. “Even if it tore me apart.”

You turned to face him, arms crossed over your chest. “Why do you always do this?”

“Do what?”

“Say things like that. Things that make me feel like…” You trailed off, shaking your head.

“Like what?” he pressed, stepping closer.

“Like I can’t breathe when I’m not with you,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. “Like leaving you was the worst mistake I’ve ever made.”

His eyes softened, and for the first time in weeks, a flicker of hope sparked in his chest. “Then don’t leave again,” he said simply.

You let out a soft laugh, one that held more pain than humor. “It’s not that simple, Klaus.”

“It is,” he insisted, closing the space between you. “You and I, we are not simple, love. We never have been. But that doesn’t mean we’re not meant to be.”

You looked up at him, your eyes glistening with unshed tears. “How do you always make it sound so easy?”

“Because it is,” he said, his voice thick with emotion. “Loving you is the only thing in my long, cursed existence that has ever felt easy. The only thing that’s ever made sense.”

You shook your head, a tear slipping down your cheek. “You hurt me, Klaus.”

“I know,” he said, his voice breaking. “And I’ll spend the rest of my life making up for it, if you’ll let me.”

The silence that followed was heavy, the kind that carried the weight of unspoken truths and unhealed wounds. But then you stepped closer, your hand reaching out to touch his cheek, and the world seemed to shift.

“I missed you,” you whispered, your voice cracking.

Klaus closed his eyes, leaning into your touch like it was the very air he needed to survive. “And I, you.”

When he opened his eyes, they were filled with a tenderness that made your knees weak. “Stay,” he whispered. “Not because I need you to, though I do. But because I think you need it too.”

You didn’t answer right away. Instead, you stood on your toes, pressing your lips to his in a kiss that was soft and searching, as if you were testing the waters of something fragile and new.

When you finally pulled back, you rested your forehead against his, your tears mingling with his breath. “I don’t know how to stop loving you,” you admitted, your voice trembling.

“Good,” Klaus said, his voice raw. “Because I don’t know how to stop loving you either.”

The storm outside raged on, but within the walls of the Mikaelson compound, there was only warmth. And for the first time in weeks, Klaus felt something he hadn’t dared to feel in centuries: hope.

i wouldn't stop loving him either

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I wouldn’t hesitate | k.m

⎯⎯“if I had the chance to fall in love with you again, I wouldn’t hesitate.”

warings: a slight glimpse of angst but not really

The Mikaelson compound was quiet, save for the soft hum of classical music playing in the background. Klaus Mikaelson sat alone at the piano, his fingers ghosting over the keys as he played a melody he couldn’t quite name. The notes were haunting, aching, as if they carried the weight of centuries.

She stood in the doorway, watching him. It was rare to catch Klaus like this—unguarded, his usual arrogance stripped away, leaving only the man behind the monster. She didn’t call out or announce her presence; instead, she stepped quietly into the room, her heels clicking softly against the stone floor.

He didn’t stop playing. “I was wondering when you’d show yourself,” he said, his voice low, almost distant.

“How’d you know I was here?” she asked, crossing her arms and leaning against the wall.

Klaus finally looked up, his blue eyes meeting hers. They were softer than usual, tinged with something she couldn’t quite place. Regret? Nostalgia? Whatever it was, it made her stomach twist.

“I always know,” he said simply, his lips curling into a faint, fleeting smile. “You have a way of sneaking into places you don’t belong.”

She raised an eyebrow. “I think I belong here just fine.”

“Do you?” he asked, tilting his head. His tone wasn’t mocking, but curious, almost searching.

She frowned, pushing off the wall and walking closer. “What’s going on with you, Klaus? You’ve been… off lately.”

He chuckled, though the sound lacked its usual bite. “Off. That’s one way of putting it.”

She sat on the edge of the piano bench, careful to leave some space between them. “What’s the other way?”

Klaus’s fingers stilled on the keys, and for a moment, the room was silent except for the faint echo of the last note he played.

“Do you ever wonder, love,” he began quietly, “if it’s possible to start over?”

The question caught her off guard. She blinked, studying his face. He wasn’t looking at her now; his gaze was fixed on the piano, as if the answer were hidden somewhere between the keys.

“Start over?” she echoed.

Klaus nodded slowly. “If you could erase the mistakes, the pain, the… darkness. If you could go back to the beginning, knowing everything you know now, would you make the same choices?”

She frowned. “Klaus, you’re not exactly the regretful type. What’s this really about?”

He finally turned to her, and the rawness in his expression took her breath away. “What if you had the chance to fall in love with someone again?” he asked softly. “Would you? Or would the weight of what they’d done be too much to bear?”

Her chest tightened. “Are you asking me?”

“Perhaps,” he said, his lips twitching into a humorless smile. “Or perhaps I’m merely indulging in the luxury of hypotheticals.”

“Klaus,” she said, her voice softer now, “what are you trying to say?”

He leaned back, his hands leaving the piano entirely. “You once told me I was impossible. That I was incapable of change.”

She stiffened. “I—”

“You were right,” he interrupted, his voice sharp but not unkind. “I’ve spent centuries proving you right. I destroy everything I touch. Every relationship, every sliver of happiness—it all crumbles in my hands because of who I am. What I am.”

“That’s not true,” she said quickly.

“Isn’t it?” he countered, his eyes narrowing. “Tell me, love—would you fall in love with me again, knowing what you know now? Knowing what I’ve done?”

Her breath caught in her throat.

This wasn’t the Klaus she knew. Not the arrogant, self-assured hybrid who could terrify an entire city with a single glance. This was a man unraveling, baring his soul in a way he never did. And she didn’t know what to say.

“I…” She hesitated, her gaze dropping to her hands. “I don’t know.”

The words hung between them, heavy and fragile.

Klaus laughed softly, bitterly. “An honest answer. I can’t say I blame you.”

She looked up at him, her brow furrowing. “You’re being unfair.”

“Am I?”

“Yes,” she said firmly. “Because you’re acting like this is all black and white. Like you’re either a saint or a monster, and there’s no in-between. But that’s not how it works, Klaus.”

He studied her, his expression unreadable. “Then how does it work, darling? Enlighten me.”

She sighed, brushing a hand through her hair. “You’re complicated. You’ve done terrible things, yes, but you’ve also done good things. You’ve protected the people you love. You’ve fought for them, for this family, even when it would’ve been easier to walk away. That has to count for something.”

Klaus tilted his head, his eyes searching hers. “Does it?”

“Yes,” she said, her voice steady. “It does.”

He leaned forward slightly, his gaze locking onto hers. “Then tell me, love. If I could start over—if I could undo the mistakes, prove to you that I could be better—would you let yourself love me again?”

Her heart pounded in her chest. She wanted to say yes. Wanted to believe that people could change, that Klaus could change. But she knew better than to give him an easy answer.

“Klaus,” she said carefully, “I don’t think you need to start over. I think you need to stop looking back.”

He frowned.

“You can’t undo the past,” she continued. “But you can choose what you do next. And if you really want to be better, then be better. Prove it—not to me, not to anyone else. To yourself.”

Klaus stared at her, his expression unreadable. Then, slowly, a small, genuine smile tugged at the corner of his lips.

“Wise words,” he said softly. “Perhaps I underestimated you.”

“Wouldn’t be the first time,” she teased, though her voice was gentle.

Klaus chuckled, shaking his head. “You have a talent for infuriating me, love. And yet…”

“And yet?” she prompted, raising a brow.

He stood, stepping closer until he was towering over her. For a moment, she thought he might say something else—something vulnerable. But instead, he smirked, his usual arrogance slipping back into place like a mask.

“And yet, I find myself wondering what I’d do without you,” he said, his voice teasing but his eyes betraying a flicker of something deeper.

She rolled her eyes, standing to face him. “Well, lucky for you, you won’t have to find out. At least not tonight.”

Klaus chuckled, his smirk softening. “Lucky indeed.”

As she turned to leave, his voice stopped her.

“For what it’s worth,” he said quietly, “if I had the chance to fall in love with you again, I wouldn’t hesitate.”

She froze, her heart skipping a beat. But when she turned to look at him, he was already sitting back at the piano, his fingers dancing over the keys, playing that same haunting melody.

She didn’t respond. Instead, she slipped out of the room, her chest tight with emotions she couldn’t quite name.

he's so cuteeee

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crawlin' back to you | k.m

⎯⎯“Where are you?” you asked, your voice steady despite the tears streaming down your face. There was a pause, and then he said, “Outside. In the rain.”

warnings: fluff

It was just past midnight when your phone buzzed, the sound breaking through the quiet of your apartment. You frowned, glancing at the screen. Klaus’s name flashed across it, and your heart stuttered in your chest.

You hadn’t spoken to him since that night—since you told him you couldn’t keep being a part of his world if he wasn’t willing to let you in completely. You’d tried to move on, tried to bury the memories of him beneath distractions and half-hearted dates. But no matter how hard you tried, Klaus Mikaelson was always there, lurking in the corners of your mind.

And now, here he was, crawling back into your life with a single call.

You debated ignoring it. You told yourself it would be better to let it go. But your hand betrayed you, answering the call before you could stop yourself.

“Klaus,” you said, your voice steadier than you felt.

There was a pause, and then his voice came through, low and rough. “I wasn’t sure you’d pick up.”

“Neither was I,” you admitted, leaning against the counter as your heart pounded in your chest.

Another pause. You could hear the faint sound of rain in the background, could picture him standing somewhere in the city, looking as lost as you felt.

“I wasn’t going to call,” he said finally. “I told myself it would be better to let you go. That you deserved a chance to move on without me interfering.”

“And yet, here we are,” you said, your voice tinged with bitterness you couldn’t quite hide.

“Yes,” he said, and the honesty in his tone caught you off guard. “Because no matter how hard I try, I can’t stay away from you.”

Your breath hitched, and you gripped the counter tighter. “Klaus—”

“I’m not calling to make excuses,” he interrupted. “I’ve thought about that night a thousand times, love. About the things I said… and the things I didn’t say.”

You closed your eyes, his words cutting through you like a blade.

“I told myself it was for the best,” he continued. “That by letting you go, I was doing the right thing. But the truth is, I’m a selfish man. I don’t want you to move on. I don’t want you to forget me.”

Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes, but you didn’t say anything, waiting for him to go on.

“I want to be the one who makes you laugh,” he said, his voice cracking. “The one you turn to when the world feels too heavy. I want to be yours, completely, if you’ll still have me.”

The silence that followed was deafening. You could hear your own heartbeat, the rush of blood in your ears as you tried to process his words.

“I know I don’t deserve you,” Klaus said softly. “But if there’s even a part of you that still feels what I feel—if there’s even a chance—I’ll spend the rest of my life proving to you that I’m worth it.”

Your tears spilled over, and you pressed a hand to your mouth, trying to keep from sobbing.

“Klaus,” you whispered, your voice trembling. “Why now?”

“Because,” he said, his tone heavy with emotion, “I’ve always been yours, love. Too busy being yours to fall for anybody else. And now I’ve thought it through… I can’t keep pretending I don’t need you.”

Your heart shattered and pieced itself back together all at once.

“Where are you?” you asked, your voice steady despite the tears streaming down your face.

There was a pause, and then he said, “Outside. In the rain.”

You hung up without another word, grabbing your coat and rushing to the door.

When you found him, he was standing in the middle of the street, rain dripping from his hair and clinging to his suit. His eyes met yours, and for a moment, neither of you moved.

Then, as if drawn by some invisible force, you closed the distance between you, your hands reaching for him like they had a mind of their own.

“I hate you,” you said, your voice breaking as you hit his chest with trembling fists. “I hate how much I love you.”

Klaus caught your wrists gently, his touch warm despite the rain. “I know, love. I know.”

And then his lips were on yours, desperate and full of every unspoken word, every unshed tear. The rain poured around you, soaking through your clothes, but neither of you cared.

In that moment, there was no past, no pain, no distance. There was only him, and you, and the love that had brought you crawling back to each other.

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Wherever you go, there you are

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Fanfic authors be like "stay tuned for more" or "to be continued" and then don't update for twenty years, lmao.

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Wednesday (pronounced like Renesmee)

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me: *looks for fic with extremely specific scenario that I made up*

fic: *doesn’t exist*

me:

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y’all 😭 thank you guys for 1.9k followers 💛💛 you guys are amazing!!

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welcome to my blog, lovely person! hopefully you'll find something you like in here.

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pd: likes are appreciated, but if you reblog my stuff would be great <3 Also... I'm trying to start to earn some money by myself so I could be more independent from my parents so, if any of you liked anything in this blog and would like to help me with just one dollar, here's my PayPal Thanks <3

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a teen wolf post in 2022???

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The nerd I reblogged this from has a quality blog and I recommend you all follow them

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At people who ship Maggie and negan:

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THE WALKING DEAD ⇢ 3x10 | HOME