Really loving these drabbles! how about 25 and 99?
25 Fairy Tale AU and 99 Magical Accidents AU. I was scrolling through the list of fairy tales on wikipedia and got the The Gingerbread Man and then the weirdest nonsense I have ever subjected y’all to happened. No smut but allusions to KC’s ahem ACTIVE sex life are within.
Send me two (2) tropes from this list and I’ll combine them in the same story
Caroline’s slow to wake, soft little taps on her nose an irritant she’s hoping will go away. She groans, swatting at whatever’s there. Her hand doesn’t connect with anything and she’s startled to feel fleeting bursts of pressure dancing down her chest.
Why does she smell cookies?
“Psst, Caroline!” a voice hisses. “Wake up! I need your help.”
Why was Kol in their bedroom? Was he trying to get his neck snapped? Even if he’d brought cookies Klaus would still be pissed he’d gotten a bit territorial about his claimed space since Caroline had moved in. Not that she minded. Rebekah helping herself to things from Caroline’s closet, while bitching about how tacky her wardrobe was, hadn’t been endearing.
“Caroline! Rise and shine!” Kol’s voice sounds weird. Smaller somehow, pitched high.
“Go away,” she mumbles. “Sleeping.”
“That’s a lie,” he counters. And then the tapping is back, faster and more insistent. The cookie smell grows stronger and she wonders if maybe Klaus had compelled somebody to make breakfast.
That might be worth getting up for.
He’d muttered something about having to clean up a small mess in the quarter when it had still been dark out, had told her to stay in bed. She’d been tired and hadn’t objected. Klaus existed on very little sleep, part habit part side effect of being super old.
Caroline forces her eyes open, only to shut them immediately. There’s no way a cookie was standing upright in front of her face, little limbs waving wildly. What kind of weird dream was she having?
Kol huffs impatiently. “No. Up,” he insists. “Come on, wakey wakey.” The pressure on her chest returns, more insistent. Almost like someone - a very tiny someone - is bouncing on her sternum.
“I must be high,” Caroline grumbles, throwing an arm over her eyes.
“I sincerely wish that were the case,” Kol says.
She pushes up on her elbow and Kol lets out a short shout, tumbling feet (if you could call the stumps that he currently sported such a thing) over head and landing at her side. He leaps up, eyebrows pulled down indignantly.
“That was rude,” he mutters petulantly. The sniff and the offended toss of his head as his rounded hands pat down his body is what convinces her. It’s an action she recognizes, something Kol does often, usually when he’s being a dick on purpose and riling Rebekah up.
That usually ends with silverware embedded in her walls so it’s pretty memorable.
Caroline sits up, yanking the covers up to her chest. Someway, somehow, Kol’s managed to get himself transformed into a sentient cookie.
Never a dull moment in New Orleans.
A gingerbread, judging by the spicy smell. She ignores the growling of her stomach though Kol edges away, eyeing her suspiciously.
Please. Like she’d be willing to eat him. Who knows where he’d been?
“Which witch did you piss off this time?”
He averts his gaze, tiny crumbs breaking off of his foot as he scrapes it against the sheets. She shoots him a warning look and Kol stills. “There was a meeting of all the covens last night…” he begins.
She interrupts him, “Yeah, I don’t need to know the details. In fact, from what I know of your track record I don’t want to know them. They’re probably gross.”
Kol quirks a brow, definitely judgemental, his little sprinkle gaze shifting to the nightstand where a set of ribbon ties, a bottle of lube, and a blindfold rest. “Do I detect a hint of judgement, Caroline? A bit uncalled for given how adventuresome you and Niklaus are?”
She refuses to blush. She was a seventy six year old vampire with a very satisfying sex life and that was nothing to be embarrassed about.
“That’s my first condition,” Caroline counters, leaning over to open the nightstand drawer and sweeping everything she doesn’t want Kol leering at into it. “You will not make any comments about my sex life.”
“Ever?” Kol says, obviously incredulous. “I’m afraid that’s just not possible. You’ve got a few decades on you. Surely you can imagine how very long that is?”
Ugh, she supposes he has a point. Besides, that was only a very tiny condition. She’s got some doozies in mind. “Fine. Ten years.”
“Deal. Pleasure doing business with you. Now, I know the Bennett…”
Caroline laughs, loud and bright, hopping out of bed. Kol trails off, eyeing her in confusion. She pats his head, gently with one finger, because she’s not a monster. “If you think I’m going to help you undo this, keep it a secret from Klaus and Elijah, and not take pictures for Rebekah to laugh at later you’re brain must have seriously shrunk when you were cookiefied.”
“But…” Kol attempts a protest but Caroline’s already heading to the bathroom.
“Nope, no buts. I’ll meet you downstairs in ten minutes. And if you don’t stop getting crumbs on my sheets I will dunk you in my morning coffee.”
He’s muttering as she leaves, some rather unflattering observations about her person, her lack of generosity and mercantile spirit.
Honestly, she thinks she hears a tinge of admiration.
Still, Caroline’s definitely sneaking some video. As an insurance policy. There are a few cameras strategically hidden around the room. She can access them from her phone.
If Kol sticks to his end of the bargain the video never has to see the light of day. If not? Well, Caroline’s certain Rebekah will pay handsomely for the footage.
