(Y/n) is a lively and endearing person with a chaotic, painful and mysterious past.
She lives in a small town called Mystic Falls, where she fights and courageously helps her friends survive.
But she is suddenly confused when a psychotic hybri...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
◇♧◇♧◇♧◇♧◇
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
I can buy myself flowers 🎶
◇♧◇♧◇♧◇♧◇
At this very moment I was questioning my moral compass about helping the ungrateful and injured hybrid who was sitting against the headboard of the bed and facing me. I choke back an offensive curse in the back of my throat, feel the pain in my head expanding exponentially with every spewing strand of words coming out of his stubborn mouth
"Niklaus, we've been through this. You might just let me apply it soon. Look at this, I can see the pearly gates of hell through that crater in your chest, so do me a favor...don't get in my way" I snarl trying to apply some of the portion I created to the huge wound the Huntress magic caused in his chest.
It had been a while since I had finished with the huntress. In the meantime, I created the portion to suck the dark magic out of the hybrids' bodies, which were already healed, and Klaus had risen from the dead like a burned and angry phoenix.
I took him to one of the rooms in the mansion and at that very moment I was trying to apply the medicine on his wound, but this canine mummy was not helping.
I would have better luck convincing a vegan to inseminate a Minotaur, but a girl could wait.
"That's bullshit and I don't need this" he roared dodging the medicine soaked cotton I was trying to dab on his wound.
It was obvious that it was hurting like hell. I could feel the echo of pain through the bond, pain that I made my magic push away. But even with the suffering, the idiot persists in doing his best to keep his bad thug posture intact. His face was contorted into a murderous aura as he glared at me. This might have been semi-creepy if he didn't look so sick.
"I'm Klaus Mikaelson, I've never had a sick day in my life and never will".
I can no longer count on my fingers the number of times he snarled his own name while I try to take care of him, this appreciation for his own name is strange.
