Fandom One Shots

Niklaus Mikaelson x Dead!Reader

Klaus stared at the whiskey tumbler held lightly by his fingertips. The amber liquid flowing to one side as the glass tilted to the side. Rebecca watched the flickering flames in the fireplace silent tears dripping down her cheeks on occasion. Elijah watched his siblings as he too felt the crushing grief that had fallen on the family since your death. You had been a witch who helped them. Travelling with them and helping with any and all problems that they faced. You were a witch from a powerful family, you were, had been the last of your bloodline. You had met the Mikaelson's years ago.

Klaus drained his glass. "She shouldn't have died." Elijah turned towards his brother. "No, but she died to save the people of New Orleans. She died doing what she believed in." Rebecca cut in, "She died to save, Nik. She loved you." Directing it towards her brother, the malice in her words showing. Klaus didn't even twitch. "She loved you and you did nothing to save her."

"I wanted to give her everything she wanted, and she wouldn't have wanted to be a vampire." Klaus muttered. "I loved her." Klaus sounded as though his heart was breaking. He closed his eyes briefly. Before moving off to the room he used for painting. Rebecca let the tears fall as she turned her face into Elijah's shoulder.

Klaus gazed at the one artwork he had of you. It had taken weeks for him to paint you, mainly due to him wanting to get the colour of your eyes right and to capture the light weaving its way through your hair, the colours hidden within. He thought back to your reaction of his desire to paint you and how long it had taken to paint you. You had flicked paint in the air and at him. He smiled at the memory. You had filled his house with light and laughter, making the family forget the troubles they had. He smiled at the artwork of you as he moved it outside the building. He gathered up the wood that had been chopped earlier, placed the painting inside the heap. He flicked the lighter and watched the flame for a moment. He flipped the lighter into the bonfire and watched as the flames licked at your painted face, engulfing you in flames for the second time that week. He watched as you turned ash. Then he turned when the flames had gone, he turned his back on you, burying you in his past, never to be seen again.