Imagine being a vampire married to Klaus, and having just as bad a reputation as him.
"Is that (her/him/them)?" you heard someone, a woman, whisper.
You had vampire hearing. "Yeah," another young woman replied. "(Y/F/N) Mikaelson. Klaus's (wife/husband/partner)." "I feel kinda bad for (her/him/them)." "Why?" The other person scoffed. "(She's/he's/they're) worse than he is. I heard (she/he/they) killed a whole church choir just to entertain Klaus on their anniversary!" "Yeah," another voice, a man's, chimed in. "The two of them combined are like The Joker and Harley Quinn, except crazier and more.... murder-y. They're both Hybrids, and both bat-sh*t crazy. He's an Original! They're like the world's sh*ttiest power couple. Bad for vampires." "Stop talking sh*t, guys! I don't want any trouble with Klaus Mikaelson! Or Marcel!" another guy added. "This is technically treason. You know how that goes." "Klaus? To be honest, I'm more worried about (Y/N). They all even call (her/him/them) Crazy (Y/N). (She's/he's/they've) done a lot more crazy, evil stuff than he has," the other man pointed out. "Wait. (Isn't/aren't) (she/he/they) only, like, five hundred-something? He's an Original," a woman argued. "I heard (she's/he's/they're) almost as old as him, and that he met (her/him/them) when he was only, like, a hundred, and (she/he/they) begged him to turn (her/him/them) so (she/he/they) could do a bunch of horrible things," the other female in the group suggested. "I'm pretty sure that's just talk," the first woman rationalized. "Yeah. And I'm pretty sure that's the plot of Suicide Squad," one of the men agreed. "You know I heard that (she's/he's/they've) actually eaten a human before?"
You looked over at the group with a deadly grin on your face, ready to have some fun. You sped over just behind the group, careful not to be seen by anyone, especially not any humans. You immediately spotted the male vampire who'd been afraid to be heard by anyone, and appeared right beside him. "Hi, sweetie," you whispered, startling the hidden group of vampires. "Oh! (Y/N)! (Y/N) Mikaelson," he breathed in fear. "That's right," you smirked. "Crazier than my husband, am I?" You asked. "We're—we're sorry, (Y/N), we didn't mean that, we're so sorry!" a woman apologized. "No, no, don't apologize," you smiled as they all trembled with fear. "You're right. I am even crazier than Klaus, as hard as it is sometimes to admit." "Oh, thank you! Please, let us go," another woman begged. "I don't think so," you pouted with mock sympathy. "I'm a woman of principle, you know. And I never let sh*t-talkers go." "(Y/N)...." the innocent man began. "Don't hurt them, don't punish them, please, they didn't mean to commit treason!" You only laughed at the plea. "I'm not going to hurt them. I don't care about treason. Ruling over the vampires of this city is more my husband's domain. I am not a ruler. I am a teacher," you grinned, an idea forming in your head as you turned to face the other three. "You three are about to learn a very important lesson today, at the expense of your friend here." "No, please!" he cried.
But it was too late. You stood behind the young vampire, your fangs sinking into his neck and your hand pulling him by his heart through his back. His friends watched in confusion as his eyes seemed to roll to the back of his head, as he slumped forward, dead. The vampires' eyes shifted quickly from their friend's corpse to you behind him, and your hand, in which his severed heart lay, only to be dropped on the floor as well like a piece of litter. You grinned with pure madness in your eyes and blood dripping from your chin as the vampires around you stared in terror, attempting to stifle their screams and sobs. "No! William!" one of the girls cried. "That'll teach you to own up to the things you say. Let William here be a reminder; innocent people always suffer because of the cowardice of others," you smiled.
And with that, you were gone.
****
"(Y/N)?" Klaus called. "Yes, dear?" You teased, speeding downstairs in the large Mikaelson house. "The talk of the town is you've been going on a psychological torture killing spree. You know I love torturing the minds of those who deserve it, but, it's all reflecting badly on Marcel. We can't have that," your husband sighed. "I'm sorry, Klaus," you apologized as you stepped closer to him. "It's perfectly alright, love. I'm no stranger to killing sprees. It's in our nature," he smiled. "Babe," you sighed. "Not to sound like I don't appreciate the situation, but why do you care about what Marcel says? He's not exactly the king he used to be," you reasoned. Klaus stared at you, a flicker of insanity and lust appearing in his eyes, of blood and otherwise. "You're right, love. As usual. Marcel definitely does not own me, and I now owe him nothing. We should be able to do whatever we please," he agreed, grabbing you by the waist to kiss you.
You chuckled, leaning backwards somewhat and digging your hands into your husband's hair. "Let's go eat. I'm starving," you said impatiently. "Yes, my (queen/king/darling). Hungry you are, and eat you shall. Your wish is my command, for you are my one true love, as well as the very meaning my life," he grinned as he took your hand.
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