I Know People Have Valid Reasons To Shit On Klaus Mikaelson But Idc, He's My Babygirl

I know people have valid reasons to shit on Klaus Mikaelson but idc, he's my babygirl

The best character development is when the antagonist doesn't even really change or redeem himself. Like no, he still sucks, he's just on our side now.

Girls Night

Pairing: Klaus x Fem!Reader, Rebekah x Fem!Reader (Platonic)

Summary: Pining after Klaus Mikaelson for twenty years has left you absolutely heartbroken. All Rebekah wants to do is alleviate your pain.

Warnings: A Little Bit of Angst, Excessive Drinking (Both of Blood and Alcohol), An Act of Typical Vampire Diaries of Violence. Let Me Know If I Forgot Something

Word Count: 1.6k

A/N: Hey guys! Here is the Klaus Mikaelson WIP that I promised you all. Don’t worry there will be a part two, so be on the lookout for that! Also, just for the sake of clarity, reader is a Heretic in this one. Thank you always for reading and I hope you have a wonderful day! Here is the link to the song used in this imagine

Masterlist

You miserably sit at the foot of your bed in the Mikaelson Compound, a pout resting on your lips as you use your vampiric hearing to eavesdrop on Klaus’s conversation with his latest conquest. You tended to be grateful for the enhanced abilities becoming a vampire granted you, loving the advantages, but on days like this, you cursed your gifts. 

Klaus Mikaelson is a man well known for his charm– his long list of lovers over his thousand years supporting that fact. Despite your better judgment, you fell for that seductive nature, just like every other misguided girl on his list. It was bound to happen with all the time the two of you spent together over the last century. It honestly did not come as a shock to you, you just wish you had the same effect on him as he does on you.

For two decades now, you’ve watched with green-eyed envy as Klaus has brought home his collection of women, wooing and seducing them– a piece of your heart breaking every time. Your head knew that you should let him go and move on, but your heart remained adamant that he was the one for you. You couldn’t free yourself from the burden of his unrequited love even if you tried, and oh how you tried. You once went as far as Australia to attempt at getting him out of your head, but you always found yourself right back in New Orleans. You were drawn to him, connected by some invisible force that pulled you closer every time you’d try to leave. 

Rebekah watches you with sad eyes, propped against your doorway as she sees how her brother’s libertine behavior is tearing you apart. With you being her best– and one of her few– friends, it upset the youngest Mikaelson to see you so distraught, especially over her bastard brother. But there was nothing that could be done about it, Rebekah knew that better than anyone. The only thing that could alleviate your pain was the man who was causing it.

“You know, it helps if you don’t listen,” Rebekah informs you, making her presence known. You startle, having been so engrossed with Klaus that you had not heard her arrival. A defeated sigh exits your lips, knowing she’s right, but you just couldn’t help yourself. Even though you know the pain that comes along with it, you want to hear all the romantic words leaving Klaus’s lips. You want to hear if there is a difference in the way he speaks to her than with the other girls. You want to know if Klaus is falling in love.

However, when the conversation turns into something more passionate, you can no longer bear to listen– an uncontrolled heartbroken sob escaping your lips. Rebekah speeds over to you, wrapping you up in her arms as you sob into her chest, supporting the weight of your emotions. She brushes her fingers through your hair gently as she sends a multitude of curses towards her older brother for putting you through so much heartache.

“Oh, sweetheart, don’t cry. Niklaus Mikaelson is not worth your tears,” she tells you, a sad smile painted on her lips. “Let’s get out of here,” she offers, lifting your chin up with her slender fingers, “I’ve suffered through many heartbreaks myself and I know the perfect way to get over them.”

You allow her to whisk you away, desperate to make the pain go away.

A joyous cheer reverberates from your chest as you drop the unconscious barfly to the floor. Rebekah shares in your delight, finishing off her bottle of tequila, glad to finally see a smile on her best friend’s face. “Bartender, make me another drink!” you command the woman behind the bar with a laugh— her body moving mindlessly under your compulsion.

Your dearest friend saunters over to you, draping her arms over your shoulder. “See, darling, isn’t this better than crying over my bastard brother?” she asks you with a grin, her words slurring slightly due to her tipsiness. You nod your in agreement, downing a shot of whatever concoction the bartender created.

You gasp in realization as a brilliant idea pops into your head. “You know what this party needs? Music!” you announce to the crowd of compelled patrons who cheer amusedly, having a fabricated night of their lives. Drawing from the eternal source of magic flowing through you, you turn the bar’s radio on, finding a station that satisfies you. 

“Dance with me,” you beckon to Rebekah– the two of you wildly jumping in time to the music. You toss your head back, laughing carelessly as the alcohol and blood mix in your system making you feel weightless. The grief of your unrequited love for Klaus Mikaelson is only a mere throb in the back of your mind.

The fun you two are reveling in is interrupted when Rebekah receives a phone call eliciting a frown from you. “Boo,” you pout, drawing out the last syllable as she answers it.

“Nik, how wonderful for you to call.”

Your frown deepens at the mention of his name, the feelings you had been suppressing starting to rise. You turn to the closest bar patron near you, sinking your teeth in, trying to forget everything. The song on the radio changes and a squeal of delight leaves you. Releasing the guy, whose blood is beginning to pool around him, you begin to dance to the intro of one of your favorite songs.

“Open up to the night 

Our bed is underneath a heavy moon

Cast a doubt”

You begin singing along as you climb on top of the bar, grabbing a bottle of tequila on your way.

“Like a shadow walking through the corners of the room”

“C'mon dance with me,” you motion to two beer gluttons sitting at the bar, helping them to get up there with you.

“I always thought I’d have a full tank to go

But not tonight, you’re running low

I always thought I’d find my own way”

Taking a swig from the tequila, you dance with the two men, swaying your hips to the beat and letting your hands fly freely. You laugh feeling infinite as if this moment will never end. Everything leading up to now and everything that will come after is irrelevant to you, what matters is the limitlessness you feel in this very moment. The absolute freedom.

“Everybody dance!” you shout– the bar denizens cheering their praise as they begin to join in. You cheer, reveling in the joyous atmosphere you created inside the bar, disconnected from the world around you. A hurricane could have just struck New Orleans and you would not know. Taking another swig of tequila, you brace yourself, take a deep breath, and belt out the chorus of the song along with the artist.

“It’s driving me crazy, and you can try to lie

But you’re not gonna, not gonna deny

No, you’re not gonna, not gonna deny my love

And you can run to the hillside, you can close your eyes

But you’re not gonna, not gonna deny

No, you’re not gonna, not gonna deny my love

You can’t deny my love”

Rebekah returns, having finished her conversation with the hybrid, and cheers you on as you jump wildly and erratically, losing yourself in the music. The two of you continue in this manner throughout the second verse of the song– singing, dancing, drinking, and laughing. However, by the time the chorus comes back around, your pity party is ruined by the very man you were having this party to forget.

He watches you from the entrance of the bar– an amused smirk lighting up his face– as you drunkenly dance around the bar top. The smirk falls from his lips when you begin grinding against one of the bar patrons, a surge of rage and jealousy rushing through him. Rebekah, ever the instigator, gives you a round of applause, singing your praises and raving about your performance. A proud grin spreads across your lips at her praise but you weren’t done. Wanting to give Klaus a real show, you pull the man closer to you, leaning in for a kiss, but are met with air. Brows furrowed in confusion, your eyes open to come face to face with Klaus’s chest– the drunken man’s heart in his bloodied hand. You frown, realizing the night of fun has come to an end.

“Alright, the party’s over. Everyone out!” Klaus yells at the compelled patrons, who are still dancing away in the silence, angry at your little display. “Party pooper,” you pout, crossing your arms as Rebekah whines a “Nik,” both of you behaving like petulant children. 

“Now,” he demands and you get down with a sigh, knowing even in your drunken state it’s best not to test Klaus’s patience. You join Rebekah in compelling the surviving bar guests to go home and forget everything they witnessed tonight. Once the last denizen leaves the bar for the night, you turn to Klaus– angry that he ruined your girls’ night with Rebekah. “Why’d you do that?” you question him, gesturing to the lifeless corpse on the bar– the irritation clear in your voice, “He didn’t do anything. We were just having fun.” Klaus sends you a murderous glare and you realize just how furious he truly is.

“Fun? You call that fun. Whoring yourself out to some men at a bar.”

Normally, you have checked the Original Hybrid for a statement like that, but given the current circumstance, you thought it best not to provoke him. You blurt, “It was Rebekah’s idea!” looking to save your skin and deflect most of his wrath while simultaneously throwing your friend under the bus. The Original takes offense to how easily you gave her up, but you take comfort knowing that she is Klaus’s favorite sibling, so she is most likely going to come out unscathed.

“I don’t care whose idea it was. You’re going home, now.” Without a moment’s hesitation, you and Rebekah whisk off to the compound– surprised at how easily he let you off without so much as a lecture.

this is an experiment:

trying to prove something to my friends

REBLOG IF YOU THINK PANSEXUALITY AND BISEXUALITY ARE TWO DIFFERENT, VALID SEXUALITIES

F i n n