“Lola why are you such a big fan of Caroline in season 1?”
Because she was a teenager. She was a 17 year old girl with an emotionally distant mother, an absent father who left for his husband, her two best friends rarely took her seriously, she was abused and compelled by Damon (which her friends knew about yet did nothing until later) and Matt, who was supposed to be her boyfriend, was still in love with Elena and couldn’t devote himself fully.
She was 17 and had no one to turn to, she had no true friends or an actual parental figure. She was a pawn in their games for ages, in season 2 she was being manipulated and abused by Katherine as a baby vampire. Once again, her 2 supposed best friends were aware of this.
She was seen as a blonde distraction for Klaus, yet he was the only one who saw past the mean girl cheerleader bully everyone made her out to me and saw the girl beneath the facade - the girl who simply longed to be loved.
But also, she was the perfect representation of a teenage girl. She was blunt, but most teenagers tend to be. She gossiped, she cheered but she had deeply rooted insecurities like most girls do. She was a realistic teenage girl in the midst of supernatural drama and people over look it frequently.
Caroline Forbes you deserve better than what the shitty writing team did to you, I’ll never hate you.
Surprise update! ✨
This 👉😌👈 girl is on fire! 🔥
--
S04E09 Queen Death
“Here, try this one,” Klaus says, offering a strawberry shortcake to his daughter, perched comfortably on his lap.
Eve’s eyes sparkle as she grabs it with both hands and takes a huge bite, cheeks bulging as she chews. A muffled squeal of delight escapes her, her little feet kicking under the table. “This is so good!”
Klaus beams, pride written all over his face as he watches her.
Caroline should be exasperated. This is easily the most over-the-top display of indulgence Klaus has staged in a long while - not to mention an inhuman amount of sugar to expose a seven-year-old to. And yet…
Her heart swells instead, lips curving into a helpless, tender smile. Affection floods her chest, so full it feels as though it might burst. She spent five long years imagining moments exactly like this. They were what dragged her out of bed each morning, what kept her moving forward when everything else was dark and hope was nothing but a distant mirage. This - them - is what she fought for. What she nearly died for. So her daughter could know her father. So that Klaus could spoil her rotten.
Seeing them together like this makes all the sweat, all the blood, and all the many, many tears worth it.
“Those beignets are from your mother’s favorite café,” Klaus tells Eve, sliding a tray piled high with powdered-sugar clouds closer as though he's unveiling crown jewels. “She’s had a craving for them since you were still inside her belly.”
Caroline’s lips twitch, amusement bubbling up through the warmth in her chest.
Of course he'd tell it like that.
Her pregnancy hadn’t exactly been a pic-nic. Character-building is putting it mildly. She and Klaus spent most of it sparring, trading barbed retorts like they were speaking entirely different languages. The arguments were constant, her stress levels dangerously high for someone supposed to be glowing. But every single time, after the blow-ups, whenever Klaus was particularly infuriating, she’d wake up to a perfectly fresh batch of beignets waiting for her.
Apologies, Klaus Mikaelson-style: no words, just a mountain of fried dough.
--
Anyway, you can read the new chapter here on AO3.
As always, comments, kudos, reblogs, smoke messages etc are very appreciated and feed this overworked part-time fic writer's soul. ❤️
Hope you enjoy it! ✨
OMG I HAD AN IDEA, How About V x Harpy!Reader (or part Harpy) With like fluffy flappy bird wings (bonus point If They are insecure With telling him the truth About what They are)
Anon I don't know what you're on, but I want some, brilliant idea! If you like this quick little bit consider tipping me on Kofi!
Love Bewinged
You first saw V covered in blood. He'd been tracking down the man who kept you in a cage for months, you later learned. And you watched him kick the man who kept you in a cage down the stairs that led to your basement. You and the other animals watched as V slammed a knife into your captor's chest. Once. Twice. Three times. Then slit his throat. To make sure.
He was so cold while he did it. Calculated. Not like the man who kept you in a cage who was always angry. V killed like it was a job. The man killed -had killed- like he enjoyed being strong enough to do it. He'd killed some of the other animals in cages when they snapped at him. So you'd been quiet. Hiding in the back of your cage unless he shouted at you to be entertaining.
You were hiding in the back of you cage when V unlocked the doors. Some of the animals were human enough. They sprinted up the stairs. Some of them were hungry enough. They went for the corpse. Some were curious and scared. Like you. They stayed in their cages. They waited for the other shoe to drop. You hid in the shadows too.
"I don't understand why he kept people down here," V's voice pitched low, gravelly in a way that felt like something your soul knew was home.
Like cliffs that could cause a landslide with a little bit of rain. Like boulders thrown off cliff edges to sink passing ships.
"Keeping animals is bad enough without the resources to keep them happy. But people in cages... It's despicable."
It took you a little while to realize that he was talking to you. That he was reaching his hand into the cage for you. In offering of friendship maybe? Or to drag you out of the corner and hurt you?
You pressed yourself farther into the cage, harder against the cage bars.
"I won't hurt you," he cooed like he was calling to a frightened bird.
Like he knew what you were.
"Come, let's get you out of here and into the sunshine."
He held out his coat, mistaking your hesitancy for modesty, and averted his eyes. You took a hesitant crouching step forward. He didn't move. Didn't look toward you. You took another step. You launched yourself into the coat. Into the warmth and cover and smell of something other than metal and blood. He wrapped it around you, careful not to touch you as he looked into your wide eyes.
"Does that feel better?" He tilted his head slightly, a gentle smile that set your heart fluttering with your wings wrapped tightly in the blanket that was his coat.
"Yes," you agreed. "Yes."
"Let's get you somewhere safe. You can stay with me."
You didn't think about how hard it would be to stay hidden. You just thought of the man that sounded like rocks falling from cliffs into the ocean and the warmth of his coat. You followed
Hi! Can I request something? It's my first time requesting in tumblr Here I go! Can you do a one-shot with V with a reader who's a mute? I sorta need a comfort fic right now. If It's okay! I love your Ronin fanfic about it
Loud in the Silence.
V x mute!g.n.reader, comfort, fluff
Words: 3354
Cws: spoilers for Killer Chat!
"Mx Y/n, please try to say 'hi'." Your therapist told you, she's been telling you the same thing for years now.
Years of speaking exercises, therapy and many other exhausting things. Even with so many procedures, you were still unable to talk and your doctors were slowly losing all hope for your case. Every doctor you visited kept on reassuring you that you can overcome your muteness, but no matter how much effort you've put into the exercises, it all ended in vain.
This time was no different, you were leaving the doctor's office, resignation in the man's eyes, exhaustion on his face. You were a lost cause, you accepted it a long time ago. Not speaking wasn't so terrible... alright it was. It was a lot. You hated it, hated being treated like a lost child, like someone weak who needs others to do things for them, the special treatment. Being treated like some kind of alien because of your muteness was the worst.
I'm used to this. You kept on telling yourself, bottling your feelings inside, shutting away from the world and people who hurt you.
You've reached home, put your bag on its place, kicked off your shoes and made your way to your study-bedroom to work some more on your serial killer book. You wanted to be a new promising criminal novelist, that was your dream since forever.
Writing was the only form of escapism for you, the only thing you didn't feel judged for not talking. People only cared about the words you wrote, not the ones you said. It brought you comfort, something to keep you away from these overwhelming thoughts that made your mind so unbearably heavy.
This doesn't feel right".
You grunted in frustration, erasing a whole freshly filled page. This character, they felt so unrealistic, the murder was poorly executed, nothing made sense. You will never be a great author if you will continue on like this. It was fine time you touched some... less than legal resources.
After days of leaving interesting question on the dark web and feared your IP getting leaked anytime you received a reply to your posts.
You opened the site, wrote up a new post and clicked "send" then you noticed a new private message, you opened the chat, the person was marked as unknown. Of course they were. They sent you a link and a key, you were curious so you opened the link and filled in the password.
A chatting site showed up on your screen, you were in the main channel that slowly got flooded with welcoming messages. It was weird. A server with eight members, made specifically on the dark web of all places. It definitely screamed trouble from distance, but you already joined and there was an active threat that whoever owns the server has your IP, so why not stay?
<Y/n>: Hello, thanks for the warm welcome.
You sent your first message.
<goreboy>: your welcome darlin'
<goreboy>: check out the rules, there's not much but y'know
You took a note of the person by the name "goreboy" words and entered the channel.
<goreboy>: be a serial killer, First rule of fight club
<goreboy>: oh yeah and don't be transphobic, racist and just weird or angel will Snipe ya
<Angelic> And that's a promise, not a threat.
Serial killer? That has to be a joke or some stupid roleplay.
You thought, it was the most logical conclusion you could come up with. These people couldn't be serial killers, why would serial killers make a whole server anyway? It's probably some silly roleplay made by bored people who were too deep into their roleplay and decided to use the dark web as their domain. Yes, that sounds logical.
But what if these are real serial killers?
Doubts began to cloud your mind, there was no reason for them to lie about this either. You had to find out the truth some way. Asking them about it would be suspicious. A supposed serial killer asking other serials if they truly are who they say they are? Yeah that's your one way ticked to a grave.
You scanned the server members and an idea came to your mind.
Why not ask a specific person about their identity?
That idea should work, there was no way it would flop, or so you hoped.
<Y/n>: @/K9, are you the serial killer who kills other bad people?
You sent the message. Why did you choose that person? You didn't know, this member seemed to be the most interesting out of all the others.
<K9>: I refuse to be associated with these wild beast. I am a vigilante.
<goreboy>: don't Listen to v, he's As killer as The rest of us are.
Oh, I am seriously in a den of serial killers... how exciting.
Logic told you to leave, call the police and let them handle this, but something stopped you. You could use this as an opportunity to shape your story, get to know how the other serials operate, get inside their heads in a way. What better way to learn than by making them believe that you are one of them?
Two weeks had passed, you've been enjoying your time playing pretend with the killers and hoping that they won't learn about your serial killer persona being just an act.
You entered the #killer_shit channel to see some discourse started by Misaki about blood art, a curious choice for a topic, but these people also talked about gutting someone open or what torture methods are the most painful.
<goreboy>: hey Y/n, you've Been here for weeks by Now and we still don't know shit about ya
<goreboy> isn't it a li'l weird?
Shit.
Of course, it couldn't be too easy. You should have expected them to catch up on the way you were more of a lurker and that you rarely participated in murder talk.
You didn't really know what to do so you had to improvise. A serial killer could want to not reveal a lot about themselves, right?
<goreboy>: i mean, if ya Want someone To open you up and see your li'l secrets then im After the job, darlin'
Okay maybe being an enigma wasn't such a great idea as you originally thought.
<goreboy>: c'mon, let's have A voice call Reveal
<hitmeuppp>: OMG yesss we should do that!!!
<LUCA_IS_SO_COOL>: I second this!!!1
<Felicite>: I third this...!
Oh you are in so much trouble.
You obviously can't join the call, unless you magically overcome your muteness in five seconds or less and telling them that you have to stay on mute would make you sound like some cop trying to get information about them.
Your hands were sweating as they hoovered over the keyboard, barely tapping on the letters you wrote.
<Y/n>: I'm very sorry, I can't call now.
You left the chat after you sent this, too stressed to see their replies, you didn't want to see their disappointment or anger.
While you were worrying about the consequences of your words, a pop up shown on your screen; K9 wants to DM you.
You blinked a few times. What does he want?
V didn't strike you as someone who would message you out of the blue, he didn't show up on the server much after you joined, unless Ronin made a new announcement or the topic was "immoral" enough.
You agreed to the request and then received a message.
<K9>: Is there a reason for your inability to call right now?
Oh wow, he's forward.
You bit your lower lip. What should you do now? Lie? Tell the truth? You didn't want to hide the truth about being mute, but seeing it in your texts with someone felt humiliating.
Then, another idea popped into your mind. It was risky, could fail or give you more trouble, but it could also make one serial killer (or a vigilante in this case) side with you.
You prepared the item for your plan and called V, not asking him if is able to have a short call now.
To your surprise he picked up and he looked better than you could ever imagine a serial killer to look like. Beautiful eyes that looked at your coldly and judgemental, dark braids put up in a ponytail and falling down his shoulders. He looked majestic, you can't remember ever seeing as handsome.
Stop, stop, stop. This is not the time for this.
You scolded yourself in your mind, you can dote over the way he looks some other time, you had a plan to go through with.
Before you could say anything you moved the notebook that you were nervously holding in your hands to the camera, somehow the text on it wasn't inverted.
You watched him mouth the message you wrote; I am mute, I can't speak. His face froze in shock, shock turning into understanding.
Not pity, not sadness, not disgust like some other people you knew. Just pure understanding, acceptance. It almost made you tear up. For the first time someone didn't judge you for your disability, didn't flood you with uncomfortable questions or declared that they'll teach you how to speak.
"I see. it would be truly uncomfortable to join a call in this situation." He said.
Oh gosh, even his voice is just amazing.
You nodded your head and wrote another message, showing him the notebook again; Yes, I don't think that I'm ready to share it with the whole server, yet.
"Ah, of course, that's completely understable. You are in no way obligated to tell anyone about your situation." Hs words were rational, they were what you already knew, but for some reason they felt comforting. It felt validating to know that there was someone who agreed with you, who didn't expect you to spill everything out.
I'm glad you understand me.
You could swear that there was a hint of a smile on his lips.
"Well, now that we're here, do you feel comfortable answering my questions?"
Here we go again with the interrogation, why can't they just leave me alone?
At least this time you have a way out of this; Can we do it some other time? Admitting my disability was already a lot. It wasn't a complete lie, you did feel overwhelmed by coming clean about your muteness like this.
"Ah, yes of course, rest well, Y/n." V said before he hung up.
You were left alone with your thoughts again and the open draft for your story that you still needed to build a protagonist for. You will think about it some other time... You are in a dire need of rest now.
Some time later and you were on another call with V, this time he knew your made up serial killer alias, you learned his Modus Operandi and he decided to play a game of 20-but-I-will-make-it-3-since-you-so-kindly-asked questions on a call with you.
"Were you born mute?" His first question was bold, but you were expecting questions like this, even though other people usually make them sound much more gentle.
Yes, I can't remember ever saying a word in my life, nor does my mother or the doctors we visited. You replied, using your notebook again. V was very much alright with this method of communication, or he just never expressed having anything against your conversations looking like this.
"Mhm. I see." His response was simple, not prying on any more details than what you were ready and comfortable with revealing. You could respect him for this, it even made you feel very happy for some reason. "Do you not know sign language?" This question was... unexpected. No one was ever interested in that part, well mostly because they didn't know how to sign themselves.
Writing this reply took you longer than you thought, because you never had to think about an answer for so long before. I never felt the need to learn, more people knows how to read then how to sign and it's simpler. You didn't add the part about not having enough people in your life to learn how to sign for, he didn't need to know that part.
This response surprised him, he probably never met someone so laid back in a way when it comes to things like that. "Oh, I understand. Well, I know how American, British, German and a few other versions of sign language, if you'd ever feel the need I could teach you."
His offer caught you off of guard, V telling you that he could teach you how to sign? You thought that this could be a dream with how surreal it seamed. He was especially kind to you for the time you knew him, sure, but to the extend that he'd spend his time on being a teacher for a mute (supposed) serial killer? The more time you spend with him the more surprising V turned to be.
"Are you not okay with this?" You were so lost in your thoughts that you didn't realise that you still haven't replied to him.
Oh, no, no! I'm really thankful for the offer, I could consider taking you up on this if I ever felt like it. You replied and gave him a big beaming smile. Somehow the thought of V trying to teach you how to sign was exciting to you, it made the butterflies in your stomach flutter.
Oh, I'm so lost in this game.
The realisation was hard, sure, even confusing. Falling for a vigilante was never in your plans when you took this journey, but was it a bad thing? Well, yes! You could end up dead if he found you out, thought whenever you tried to bring you not being a writer up to him ended with him scoffing and saying that he knows how Ronin operates and that he'd never invite a non serial to the server.
Maybe it won't be as bad as you think it could be? V is tender, caring, he is easily flustered, his smile is sweet and he's a protector who deeply loves his animals, even if he never admits to the last part. Heck! He even found a bird and name it after you, is that not a perfect romance potential then what is?
I'm seriously insane for considering a killer my potential partner... Well! Taste is subjective!
January came faster than you thought, and so did a sudden love confession from V. His words made your heart melt, you reciprocated his feelings. You would be a fool if you didn't.
You really did take him up on that sign language offer, learning the most basic and easy signs that you could need the most.
"It would be easier if I could do this with you in the room with me." V sighed when your try to sign 'where' ended up with it being very floppy and apparently making an insult in another language.
These words birthed yet another genius idea in your creative mind. Then why don't you pay me a visit? All that trying to hunt me down and I'm to believe that you have nothing on me? A bold move on your side, but you either go big or don't go at all.
V looked at you, squinting his eyes like he was thinking about something really important. "You are right my love, why don't I teach you how to sign face to face?" He gave you a soft smile. "Did I ever tell you how smart you are?"
Yes, but you're free to praise me more, love. You stuck out your tongue at him when you gave him the response and his face flushed.
"There's not enough words, or signs, that could describe your genius or beauty, my love." And now you were the one blushing and losing your words.
Damn him, and his stupidly sweet praise.
Valentine's day. What a better time to meet with your serial killer boyfriend than that? Well, you probably could think of a few dates at the top of your mind, but Valentines worked as perfect as those other days too.
You were dressed up nicely, you would be meeting V for the first time you had to look at least presentable. You were fidgeting with your pen. This was seriously stressing you out in a way that you couldn't explain.
There were the butterflies, the excitement and love, but there was also worry, at he'd find out and harm you. You trusted V, but would he trust you if he knew? It was the uncertainty that scared you so much, you couldn't expect anything from a man who fed his animals with the people he killed.
The sound of the doorbell rang in your ear. There's no time for doubts, no chance to back away now. You took a deep breath, looked at yourself for the last time in a mirror and made your way to the front door.
You opened them and felt your knees weaken when your eyes met him. As elegant as ever, with the softest of soft smile on his lips, gentleness and affection in his eyes.
You melted under his gaze. Your happiness getting the best of you because you almost pulled him into a hug.
"Hello, my love." He took your hand in his and placed a gentle kiss on the back of your hand. "You look absolutely wonderful today." He said.
With pink cheeks and new warmth in your body, you let him in, showing him the way to your living room.
The two of you sat down on the sofa, you were ready to give him a note proposing tea or coffee, but he was faster. He outsretched a hand towards you, he was holding a notebook in that hand.
With a raised eyebrow you took the notebook and opened it. You almost dropped it when you read what was written inside.
My love. No words can describe my feelings towards you, you made my life better with your presence alone, made me realise and find out so many new things about myself. I never felt this way towards anyone, I can't tell if this is how most people feel, but that is how I feel while bein in love with you.
You expressed your worry about being mute many times before, and I can't help but wonder what cruel people would ever dare to act this way and say such absurd words towards you. Mute or not, you are perfect and I am really glad that I am able to spend time in your company and have your love and be the person who you feel safe with and shared the secret with.
I love you, Valentin Viljoen.
You could feel the tears run down your cheeks. No one has ever done this for you, put so much effort into something for you. You tried to wipe away the tears, but with how many were there it was almost impossible.
You looked at V, your vision was blurry from the tears but your could see the gentle smile on his face and he cupped your face with his hands and caressed your cheeks.
"You are a good person, my love. Your heart says more than any words, you are louder than any person who can speak that I know. Communication is more than just words, it's your expressions, your actions. Don't think that your muteness makes you worse or any less of a person."
You wrapped your arms around him, hugging him tightly and letting those happy tears out.
Never in your life have you expected yourself to cry in someone's arms, know that they love you unconditionally even if they know that there are things you're hiding.
You let go off the hug and with shaky hands and the most crooked and probably stupid looking smile signed.
< I love you. >
Not even silence can conquer the feeling between the two of you.
Gahhhh it feel so good!!! I'm proud of this >w<
I want to thank my dearest discord parent Kage for making their music because it carried me through the process of writing!!!
moonlight concurrence, or A Contention of Assholes (1/4)
Fandom: Drakengard 3
Rating: M
Ships: One/Five, Zero/Five
Summary: On a regular visit to one of her patrons, Five stumbles upon a bloody secret that stretches back a century and threatens to unravel the tenuous peace between One and Zero.
Well, of course she investigates.
Author’s Note: releasing this one from the vault after (checks watch) five years. this is a deeply indulgent fic using the universe of an original novel ive been plugging away at, and the thing about it is it's a great medium for These Three. there will be a lot of terms thrown around--don't worry about all that! glean what you can and just have fun!
this is some of my best work with these characters, which is saying a Lot.
anyway, i hope you enjoy!
*
“Who were you writing to before?” Five asked, in the afterglow.
The party—Michael’s, not Zero’s; she had a horrible sense for parties, and no shortage of people who would spurn an invitation for clout besides—carried on below them. It was unlikely to stop for some time; night was endless here, and so there was no racing the sunrise.
Plenty of time, at least for one of them.
On the immaculate bed, bathed in the pale beams of the everlasting moon, Zero heaved a breath of exhaustion, her stomach caving, ribs faintly visible beneath lovely flesh. There was always a lightness to her voice after she came, one which Five enjoyed as proof of a job well done. In her months of service, Five had found it was impossible to get Zero to smile; this was about as close as it got.
“What?” she huffed.
“You were writing when I came in,” Five repeated, from the cradle of Zero’s smooth thighs. She ran fingertips across a blooming mark there, tracing the violet edges. “Who is it? One, I imagine. You don’t write to anyone else.”
Dean’s looking through Cas’s contacts for the number of their favorite pizza place. (Really, why isn’t it on speed dial by now?) He slides through the first few letters of the alphabet, then back up to D. He pauses. “Hey, Cas?”
Cas is at the opposite end of the couch, watching the news on the TV screen with a frown. He doesn’t bother to look at Dean. “Yes?”
“Why am I saved as Dean Winchester on your phone?” He can’t help his derisive tone.
Cas, brow furrowed, slides his gaze to Dean. “I was under the impression that was your name.”
“It is,” Dean says. He scratches his chin. “It’s just - I mean, we’ve known each other for six years, dude.”
Cas is ignoring the TV now, which is a feat, but he’s also staring at Dean through narrowed eyes. “Yes,” he says slowly. “I’m glad you can count that high.”
“Shut up,” Dean says, making a face. “I’m just sayin’ - we’re best friends, aren’t we?”
Cas blinks, still confused. “Yes. What does that have to do with your name?”
Dean pulls out his own phone. “Look,” he says, then taps on the screen a few times before showing Cas his contact info.
Cas has to lean in to see. “’Cas’ is certainly my name,” he confirms, then lifts his gaze to Dean with concern. “Dean, are you feeling alright?”
Thing is, Dean’s phone doesn’t just say Cas. It says Cas with a little bee emoji. It certainly doesn’t say Castiel Novak. Jesus. He’s not sure how to explain the difference to Cas without feeling like an idiot, so he tries a different tack: “Including my last name is weird, man.”
“Because?”
“It just is! I mean, I’m not goin’ around with my mom saved as Mary Winchester, am I?”
“No, since she’s saved under ‘mom’ because that’s what you call her. You’re saved as Dean Winchester because I call you Dean Winchester.”
“You only call me that when you’re pissed,” Dean says, stammering. “And it reminds me of my mom. Trust me - it’s weird.”
Cas is doing the thing again. Staring at Dean with narrowed eyes, picking apart information in that creepy way of his, making silent deductions like he’s Sherlock Holmes, except infinitely hotter. “That’s not why it bothers you” is all he says.
Dean’s face is on fire. “We’re best friends, man,” he says weakly, not knowing what else to say that could capture this very specific frustration. Then he shakes his head. He can’t believe he’s put off ordering his pizza for this. “Whatever,” he eventually says. He directs his attention back to pizza. “Pepperoni OK? We can get mushrooms on one side or something, you fungus freak.”
Cas doesn’t answer. All he does is frown, then pluck his phone out from Dean’s grip and start tapping away. It’s only a few seconds later that Cas is handing it back.
Dean takes a look. Cas has changed Dean’s contact info, and now it says Dean ♥. Dean’s heart jumps in his throat. Face burning, he looks at Cas.
Cas has already turned back to the news. But... Is Dean imagining it, or are Cas’s ears turning red? “Didn’t know what else to put,” Cas mumbles. “There’s no Chevy Impala emoji. And pepperoni’s fine.”
Dean’s grinning all of a sudden. He can’t stifle it. He doesn’t know what to do with this giddiness, so he just scrolls through Cas’s contacts and dials the pizza place.
He’s on the phone ordering the half pepperoni-half mushroom pizza when Cas finally turns and meets his gaze. He sees Dean’s smile and shakes his head in exasperation, but he’s biting down on a smile himself.
New trashy Klaroline and Darklina AU crossover fanfiction drop
So here's the thing, since Shadow and Bone premiered on Netflix I got a little obsessed with all the Klaroline and Darklina parallels.
It got into the point that I even started a crossover crack fanfic Klaroline X Darklina.
I wrote this for my personal scenarios and fun, so I won't be posting on fanfiction.net or AO3. I've never read the grisha books and I completely ignore the originals show existence and its characters, except for Davina and Marcel ofc.
It's not beta proofed, but it's 21k long and i don't know if I ever will be able to finish it due to work.
THAT BEING SAID, I think it's a hilarious old tvd Klaus x Caroline fic and the interactions with Alina x Darkling are just pure gold so that's why I'm sharing with you. Here's the link for reading it. Don't take it serious, it's purely for entertainment.
Tldr: Bonnie uses a crazy spell to stop Mikael and it causes Klaus and Caroline to be taken to the grishaverse.
@howeverlongs Paula my love I tried really hard to finish it and because of your support as usual I'm putting it here. Hope you have fun 💗
If you guys have any problems with the link let me know!
Prompt: Mermaid. You can also read it on AO3 or FF.net.
Author’s Note: I thought I’d try my hand at a Merman!Klaus. And even though I haven’t been writing for a while, writing Klaus from Klaus’ perspective is always fun. I wanted to get as much ocean vibe there as possible since I’m still cooped up inside and I want OUT. So maybe too many ocean metaphors I know I know. Still, hope you enjoy:)
***
He didn’t remember California being this hot the last time he was here. Klaus’s brows furrowed so tightly under the scorching sun he could feel a headache coming up. He wished he had brought the sunglasses Rebekah gave him the last time she was home. “And what use would I have for those?” He’d asked, veiling his amusement and affection under a layer of criticism as usual. But Rebekah knew him too well to get riled up by a simple comment like that, or to be intimidated for that matter, “for one, it would make you look less like an old grumpy wanker.”
He had to admit to himself: sometimes it was nice to have a sister.
But certainly not right now. Right now he would very much like to drag Rebekah by her meddling little arms and throw her right into a pod of raucous dolphins. Let her get a taste of being annoyed to no end without an out. That was, if he could find her in the foreseeable future.
He should have known that his little sister was up to no good. She’d called out to him three days ago in the special frequency that only their kind could hear, asking to meet him at a beach in Malibu. Even through their own coded words she sounded distressed. So Klaus had cut short the very important errand he was running around the Japanese Sea and crossed almost the entire Pacific Ocean for his thousand-year-old baby sister.
Only to get stood up, scared to the point of committing homicide – or whatever was the correct term for a merman killing a Homo Sapien, and forced running around town for a whiff of her whereabouts. After two days’ worth of restless searching, he was left exhausted in this desert of a place with the infuriating news that Rebekah, his distressed sister, was airily sipping rainbow-colored cocktails in Tahiti, perfectly safe and sated.
And perfectly blocking all of his calls.
The little twit didn’t even have the decency to apologize. Instead, she threw accusations in the form of an all-cap text message.
STOP BLOWING UP MY PHONE NIK! YOU SHOULD BE THANKING ME FOR GETTING YOU OUT ON LAND BEFORE YOU ROT IN THAT HELL YOU CALL YOUR BIRTHRIGHT.
And then another. At least not all cap this time.
Surprised you remembered the phone though, since YOU DIDN’T EVEN HAVE WIFI IN THAT DUMP!
Klaus sighed, resisting the urge to throw the phone and hear it crack just to release one thousandth of his frustration. Barring call-blocking, this remains the most convenient way for him to contact any of his siblings in human territory. Also, the sleek black device was yet another gift from Rebekah, and he’d rather hang onto it even though she was not his favorite person at the moment, to put it lightly.
Rebekah had never been subtle about her agenda to lure him into the human world. Granted subtlety had never been her strong suit, but for the past century or so she’d switched lanes from casual hints here and there to downright blatant bombardment. And now apparently it had come to the stage of cheap trickery and scheming. She was one step away from straight-up kidnapping.
As if. Klaus ground his teeth, his mouth dry like sand in the Californian beach. He’d keep her in her tail-swaying mermaid form if he had to, just so she didn’t take that final step.
Not that he hadn’t tried. Klaus thought darkly, skin tight and crisp from the lack of water. A few centuries ago when his older brother Elijah found out he was working with their Shaman trying to find a way to bind all his siblings in their merpeople forms forever, they’d been furious. Rebekah had raved and cried, his younger brother Kol swung and smashed, and Elijah just left without one more word.
They all did eventually. It’d taken him almost a century to find them, and another to get back into their good graces. But by then they’d all established their contented lives in the human world, endeared and bedazzled by the fresh, quirky, fleeting yet booming human ways.
And he was left here alone, in some nameless human neighborhood, hot and thirsty and drained, in a world that he neither cared for nor understood.
He needed to find some water, soon.
In hindsight he’d been too careless – or too distracted by his sister’s wicked tricks to be precise. The first thing they were taught about venturing into the human world was to always keep themselves near water. Well, not the first thing actually. The first thing was not to venture into human territories in the first place, which ironically he had adhered to out of all his siblings for hundreds of years. But in the haste to find Rebekah he’d forgot about the second rule.
Contrary to certain fabricated lore, merpeople wouldn’t die from a lack of water. Instead, they’d slowly “mummify” from dehydration as Rebekah so elegantly put it. Klaus detested directly borrowing human terms, the creators themselves so susceptible to the corruption of mortality that they felt the need to rejuvenate their language at an ungodly rate. And he detested the feeling of dehydration, every inch of his skin feeling foreign and desperate.
Yet fortune had it that he was already too far from the beach but not close enough to any human residential area. He’d been walking for quite a while and all he saw was the forsaken desert with no river nor pond, not even a store where he could purchase some relief with human currency. Klaus squinted in annoyance as he watched a small group of humans gathering in the middle of nowhere, dancing to strange music generated by an even smaller group in the center. He recognized it as some form of a concert.
Pushing down his distain, he examined the crowd in the corner of which he spotted a scrawny creature crouching beside a box, with a poorly made sign that read: ICE WATER. Praise Poseidon.
Klaus exhaled and strode toward the sign. It would probably be bottled with the disgusting taste of chemicals and plastic, but it would have to do for now. He reached into his pocket and pulled out one piece of their ridiculous paper currency, not bothering to read what was on it. Rebekah had said that they were all high in face value anyway.
He was just about to hand the piece of paper to the merchant when a female voice interrupted from a few steps away, “hey there! You got any water left?” Klaus paid it no mind as he pushed his money-holding hand an inch forward. He couldn’t wait to be rid of the filthy-smelling piece. But he was interrupted yet again by the fast approach of a human body, the air shifting around him not unlike water currents, only lighter, and warmer, with a sweet scent of flowers. Klaus impatiently looked up at the human that almost bumped into him.
She was beautiful.
Merely seconds later Klaus would regret the prolonged stare. But in those few seconds, he let his eyes roam over her lean form, flushed face, and hair the color of gold.
He was pulled out of his trance when the scrawny merchant drawled, “sorry, only one left.” And regret started to set in as the female reached for her purse with a smiley nod. Under any other circumstances Klaus would gladly let her have the water, but not right now when he barely felt he fit in his own shriveled skin.
“Excuse me, I was here first.” The female didn’t seem to hear him, “excuse me –”
“Huh?” Finally, shiny blue eyes skimmed over to him like gentle waves, and Klaus felt his heart swim for a tiny moment. “I’m sorry, did you want something?”
Klaus gulped, gesturing at the box with the bill that he was still holding, “I was just saying that I was here first.” Inside he was silently fuming since he sounded like an absolute idiot.
“Oh,” she blinked a few times in surprise, then blinded him with a big smile, “well you see, I’ve been here all day and I’m really, really thirsty, what with all the singing and dancing. You know how concerts are. Anyway,” she bit her stuck-out lower lip, batted her long lashes, and slightly swayed the lower half of her body. “Could you just let me have this one? Thanks!”
Klaus may be an idiot, but he could recognize the tricks from a mile away. And amused as he was, he wouldn’t let the little lady have her way. Not this time.
“I’m afraid I can’t agree to that, love.” He smirked, keeping his eyes on her as he shoved the cash into the merchant’s face, “keep the change.” Whatever number was on that piece of paper, it was enough for the merchant to promptly lay the icy-cold bottle into his waiting palm.
Her rosy lips hung open, seemingly unaccustomed to anything uttered from them being so easily rejected, “seriously? It’s just a bottle of water!”
“Sure it is,” his fingers closed around the plastic container, the condensation taking the edge off his severe dehydration. “Then why the indignation?”
She huffed, her golden curls bouncing so lively, “I am not indignant. Just shocked to see that chivalry is indeed dead.”
“It would be if you are always in such a haste to announce its demise,” Klaus chuckled, “I, however, would very much like to prove the contrary. How about dinner with me, tonight?”
“Really? You just robbed my water and now you’re asking me out to dinner? I don’t even know your name!” She threw up her hands before tilting her head to regard him with a stinging amount of contempt, “used to getting your way, huh? Is it the accent? Personally, I don’t get the hype.”
“Actually I could say the same thing about you.”
“What?” Her brows went up and the tiniest crease formed on her forehead. It was adorable.
“You are just as used to ‘getting your way’, aren’t you? You never thought I’d take the water, even if I was here first.” He smirked at her, and the girl had the decency to look slightly embarrassed, her face blushing just enough for Klaus to notice.
But she was not one to ever back down. Klaus could tell.
“I’m not wasting my time arguing with you, water-hogger!” She crossed her arms and jutted out her hip, a delicate statue of beauty and petulance. Klaus couldn’t wait to further rile her up.
“Speaking of water and time-wasting,” he uncapped the bottle and, in a swift move, poured all the content right over his own head. He didn’t hold back the sigh at the sweet relief, his drying skin finally feeling appeased, the moisture soothing away the layer of tension that had built over the past hours. He basked in the cool comfort for a few more seconds before taking notice of the unexpected silence. He’d thought she’d be screaming at him at this point. Anger was a good color on her.
But instead the girl was quiet save for the audible gasp she’d let slip. Klaus palmed away the water from his face, looking at her curiously.
She was not looking at his face though. Her eyes were transfixed on his midriff, jaw hanging open. Klaus followed her line of sight and pleasantly realized how see-through the white T-shirt he threw on this morning could be under the…right circumstances. He looked back at the girl and caught her unconsciously wetting her lips.
“See something you like, love?”
“Huh?”
Klaus didn’t quite hold back the laughter boiling at his throat. The blush on her face grew.
“I mean…how could you! You didn’t even drink it! What is this, some low-budget R-rated movie?” She gestured frantically at him, expressive to the tip of her blonde curls.
For the sake of his own chances, Klaus decided to let that comment slide. “I assure you sweetheart, it was never my intention to offend you. Now how about I acquit myself over dinner and drinks? It’s only fair.”
***
After much persuasion and sweettalking, the girl – Caroline was her name – said yes, ostensibly reluctantly. Klaus saw the little smile she tried to hide when they parted ways though. They’d exchanged phone numbers, and now Klaus was wandering around downtown LA trying to find the restaurant that Caroline exclaimed they simply “must try” via text messages.
He’d driven here alone in a car that his family had left in a local property they owned. Throughout the years they’d accumulated human possessions as such all over the world. Klaus had always thought it unnecessary, but now he had to admit that Kol’s theory of “in times of need” had its merit.
Still he was not overly fond of the human world, which was way too crowded to begin with. Yet these little creatures loved to confine themselves in even smaller spaces like dwellings and automobiles, skyscrapers that cut the streets into narrow trenches. It was ridiculous, as if they were secretly afraid of too much freedom. As least it appeared that way when they kept bumping into Klaus with their sweaty arms and shoulders.
Suffice it to say he was not in the best of moods when he found his destination in a small alley off the beaten path. Yet in a city like this even the unbeaten path never went unnoticed, and sure enough there was a line forming outside the little hole-in-the-wall restaurant. Klaus inwardly sighed. Humans. Of course they would spend their already fleeting life doing meaningless chores like waiting in lines. It was nearly fascinating how senseless this self-crowned “superior” species could be. Klaus had watched them from beyond the shorelines for centuries, and still he could not quite figure them all out. Whenever he thought he’d finally summed up the ultimate principles of human behavior, something jumped out from the sea of random yet monotonous motions and intrigued him to take a closer look.
Like the fact that Caroline had apparently decided the perfect spot for a romantic dinner was a Japanese ramen joint.
Maybe this wasn’t a romantic dinner for her. The girl did seem like she was still silently fuming when she said her goodbyes. So maybe she was trying to distance herself and pretend this wasn’t a real date. If that was the case, then Klaus would have no problem showing her his very pure intentions.
He was wracking his brains for any rusty memories of human conventions regarding courtship, along with any pieces of Rebekah’s relationship quips or woes that he hadn’t completely filtered out, when he heard the sound of her sweet voice, with just a hint of hesitance, “umm...hey there, Klaus.” His name, even uttered with strangeness, sounded titillating on her tongue.
Klaus took a moment just to appreciate her form. She wore a blue dress that took on a warm hue in the evening sun, her long legs pouring out from the flowy material ending in yellow strappy sandals. She’d painted her toenails, transparent paint with an iridescent sheen, like that of the inside of a seashell. The dress had a low neckline that revealed the little golden shell-shaped pendant nestled between her breasts. Earrings in the same shape dangled around her face. Her hair was down this time, rather than the two braids she wore earlier that day, and one side was pinned back with a star-shaped clip. Starfish, if he had to guess.
Her outfit had a theme. Klaus had to smile at that.
“Okay, you need to stop staring, like right now.” Caroline held out a perfectly manicured finger, same shade as her toenails, “that is way too creepy to be cute.”
“So you think I’m cute?”
“You clearly think it enough for the both of us,” she shrugged. “No need to feed your ego.”
Klaus merely smiled at that, “you look beautiful, Caroline.” He decided that blushing was his second favorite look of hers, right after annoyed and defiant.
“Thanks, you too.” She tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear and looked aside, her long eyelashes fluttering up and down from her profile, as if shining whale flukes rising and then sinking into the evening sea. It was mesmerizing, like a painting, but suddenly that painting swung into life when she looked back, a big smile lighting up her entire face, “well come on then, I’m starving.”
“In case you haven’t noticed...” Klaus gestured at the growing line.
“Don’t worry about that,” she whispered to him, her breath tickling the side of his face, “I know someone here.”
Klaus raised an eyebrow at that, but Caroline just winked at him, “you were right about one thing – I am used to getting my way.”
She led him right to the front of the line and greeted some brunette girl named Vicky. “I met her earlier at the concert, and she just happens to work here. Isn’t it great?” Klaus simply nodded and smiled, his eyes following her every move as she navigated the crowd with confidence and ease. The crowd didn’t seem so ghastly now that it parted for her charms, and their growing proximity was a much-appreciated bonus.
Ten minutes later they were sitting side by side at the wrap-around counter in the center of the room, facing the open kitchen where chefs bustled around. Drinks were at hand, orders were in, and Klaus was more than happy to keep watching Caroline in pleasant silence. Caroline, apparently, didn’t quite think so.
“Didn’t I tell you to stop with the creepy staring thing?”
“I believe you did,” he tilted his head. “However, try as I might you are far too beautiful for me to avert my eyes.”
“Laying it on a little too thick there,” Caroline half-laugh half-scoffed. “Don’t tell me you actually got girls to date you with those lines.”
Actually mermaids in his kingdom had been throwing themselves at him since even before he claimed the throne, but Klaus was not going to tell her that. “Not in so many words, no.” Something in her words registered then, “so this is a date?”
Caroline shrugged, “I said yes, didn’t I?” His expression must have given him away somehow because Caroline laughed, and it was the most melodic sound, “I know, doesn’t sound like a rational decision – trust me I’m still debating over it.” She gave him a pointed look, “and I’m totally not over the water incident, but curiosity trumps grudges I guess.”
Klaus felt his heart flutter. She was curious about him. That was definitely a good sign. But more than anything he wanted to use her lovely curiosity to fulfill his own. “I’ve always found curiosity a great trait in people,” although in others’ cases it always entailed something he could manipulate to his own heart’s desire. “So, what are you most curious about? Other than myself, that is.”
Caroline threw him an unimpressed look, though the corners of her pink glossed lips were lifting upwards, “you just can’t lose that annoyingly smug, over-confident, I-know-better-than-anyone-else attitude, huh?”
“What can I say? It goes with my outfit,” he joked, the playful light-heartedness a fresh feeling in his chest, “and I do.”
“What?”
“Know better than anyone else.” He smirked.
“Seriously, are you like an actor or something? You sound like you’ve been type-casted as the supervillain in a bazillion trash shows.” Her lips wrapped around the straw of her lemon sea salt iced tea, the sight instantly drying up Klaus’s throat.
He coughed and quickly took a sip of his own drink, “and here I thought I was to star in ‘some low-budget R-rated movie’.”
Her eyes fell on his then, the blues deep yet clear, “you know, it’s not very chivalrous of you to repeat everything I said back to me.”
“Believe me, chivalry has nothing to do with this one. I just couldn’t stop replaying our brief encounter over and over again in my head,” he licked his lower lip, looking at her from under his own eyelashes, listening for that catch in her breath.
There it was. Sometimes truth made the greatest lines.
“Now why don’t you tell me all about your curiosities, and give me a bit more material to obsess over?”
***
Their dinner date was quite a success, if Klaus did say so himself. Caroline, it turned out, was a great conversationalist when he wasn’t getting on her nerves. She openly shared her life stories, and Klaus had hung on to her every word. Everything appeared fascinating when she was in the picture, including her smalltown origin, her endeavors at keeping the perfect GPA, her last-minute decision to travel to the West Coast for vacation, and the boy troubles besieging her best friend slash roommate, which Caroline had been regaling him for the past half-hour. It was a long story, Caroline had warned him.
Klaus wasn’t particularly interested in the story, nor its main characters, having seen similar plots repeating itself in the past centuries. A woman vacillating between siblings was hardly news, no matter how excruciating it might have felt to the participants. Though truth be told, it was just one other thing he didn’t understand about humans – his people had far more determination, and far less care for the pesky notion of monogamy when it came to the matter of hearts. And what he couldn’t understand, he generally sneered at.
But Caroline seemed deeply invested in the issue, and Klaus couldn’t fault her for her youth, or her genuine care for the people she considered hers. Not to mention that she looked absolutely stunning when she cared.
They were now walking alongside a quiet beach, having driven here at Klaus’ request. Caroline was gesturing vehemently while she talked a mile a minute, her nimble fingers seemingly toying with the evening breeze. Klaus idly wondered how they would feel on him, but the thought was fleeting as Caroline’s expressions commanded his full attention. She had such an expressive face, all the emotions written on it seamlessly morphing into one another like the colors of the evening sky. He couldn’t afford to miss even a single nuance, filing every detail into his mind in something akin to reverence.
“I’m just saying, she’s the one hanging onto the past so hard it’s pathological. We are halfway through college and she’s still going back and forth between her high school boyfriend, and – oh wait – his brother who’s entirely too old for her!” Caroline threw up her hands, “Damon is a disgusting scum, period. And Stefan, well I love him but he has to deal with his substance abuse problem on his own, and Elena isn’t exactly helping. And now she’s accusing me of trying to ‘get out’? What’s wrong with having a life plan? No offense but she should try it sometimes.”
“What do you mean ‘get out’?”
“Oh my god,” Caroline’s hand flew to her mouth, her eyes blinking sheepishly, “how long have I been talking? I’m so sorry! It’s just that we just had a huge fight right before I left for LA and we aren’t talking right now, and it’s just so frustrating I –”
“Relax, love,” Klaus touched her bare shoulder, feeling an involuntary shiver going through him. He indulged himself in lingering one more second before removing his hand, the warmth and softness of her skin a phantom glow on the tip of his finger. “You’ve known her your whole life. It’s understandable that the situation weighs on your mind. But I might need some further explanation on the topic.”
“Oh, right,” Caroline laughed, “I have finally decided on a major, and basically my career path for like, the next decade. I want to become a marine biologist one day, which means a PhD at a decent school. Whitmore just can’t cut it. But Elena isn’t exactly happy about that.”
Klaus frowned. His indifference towards this Elena girl was fast growing into annoyance, “and why is that? I’d imagine anyone would be happy for you, let alone one of your closest friends.”
“That’s what I’m talking about!” Caroline huffed, “but according to Elena, apparently I ‘think myself too good for the small-town life’ and ‘always bite off more than I can chew’. I wonder who’s been feeding her all this garbage talk.”
“Only few are destined for great things, sweetheart, which means they are almost always misunderstood.”
Caroline rolled her eyes, “hey, just because you’re the one percent doesn’t mean you need to spew this elitist nonsense, alright?”
Klaus lifted an eyebrow, amused, “and how do you know I’m the ‘one percent’?”
“I may be a biology major, but I can tell brands just fine. Especially expensive ones.”
Klaus chuckled at her haughty look. She was right in a sense, even though most of his limited collection of human attires came from his shopaholic little sister, save for the occasional gifted belts or ties from Elijah.
“Seriously, do you own a million-dollar business or something? You have that all-powerful boss vibe.” Her eyes sparkled with a combination of curiosity and secret excitement, probably generated from the sensitivity of the topic. But as Rebekah used to say, what was gossip if not swirls of intelligence to the educated ears? And he would certainly enjoy indulging her in her little vices.
“You could say that.” Running the ocean kingdom was not unlike running a human business, he supposed.
“Wow,” Caroline said quietly. “I mean I suspected, but I didn’t think I’d actually be right. Maybe you were just one of the extremely cocky ones, you know?”
“That, my dear,” Klaus smirked, the innuendo clear in his voice, “is also very true.”
“Don’t even start.” Caroline warned him with a pointy finger and glaring eyes, but they turned sparkly in an instant, “so tell me how it feels.”
“Being cocky?”
“No, being a conceited pervert who has the emotional maturity of a thirteen-year-old boy,” she rolled her eyes at him, the ripples of smile never quite gone from her face.
Klaus shrugged, “to be honest, I don’t know how to answer your question. It’s been long since I contemplated my feelings towards the...business. It’s mine now. What more can I say?”
“What do you mean it’s yours now? Who did you take it from?”
Klaus had to admire her shrewdness, even when it worked against him, “it belonged to my...stepfather’s family for generations.” The word “stepfather” tasted like cutting sand on his tongue. It would forever irk him that he could not erase the putrid name of Mikael from his own existence. Even in death that man haunted his thoughts, his decisions, his narrative. He hated it with everything that he was.
“So he left it for you?” Caroline threw the question back over her shoulder, approaching the ocean beckoning at their side.
Klaus watched as she took off her sandals and stepped into the waters, her giddiness almost palpable. The sun was setting, the tides long since ebbed, and she almost stumbled into the scene with all the enthusiasm of someone who was chasing either, not knowing that she resembled a goddess who could have stopped both. Klaus followed suit without a spare thought, a tantalizing calling in his core, from the ocean or her he couldn’t tell.
He watched as she bent down, her hair cascading while her fingers immersed into the rose gold reflection of herself. For a few moments he forgot the breath that he didn’t need, and just looked in awe at her hovering over the edge of his kingdom. She straightened up then, looking back at him, her eyes questioning. He finally realized that she was still waiting for an answer.
Klaus sighed, shaking his head, his lips twisting into the sarcastic angles that they were so used to, “on the contrary, he made it painfully clear that I wasn’t worthy.” For the first five centuries of his life, with words and whips alike. “So I proved him wrong.”
Even after hundreds of years Mikael’s blood splattering onto his face as Klaus plunged his hand into his chest still tasted fresh. He’d reduced him to nothing, and took all that he had – the kingdom, the title, the crown. And the victory, just as his dying blood, tasted like acid rust. Painful and stale and irremovable – a prison that he willingly subjected himself to for the rest of eternity.
“You don’t sound so happy about that,” her voice broke through his muddled thoughts, but he was too preoccupied to decide whether that hint of kinship he detected was real. “I know it probably meant a lot to you at the time, but if you are not happy with it, have you ever considered leaving?”
Klaus walked to her side and crouched down, sinking his palms into the coolness of his life source. He instantly closed his eyes, the sense of connection overwhelming. What was only salty water to humans was so much more to his kind. He could feel every message, every emotion, every tiniest tremble of nerve, from the wooing songs of a merman in love, to the panicked chemicals of a herring about to meet its end.
He remembered the first time he was allowed to ascend to the surface. With a longer life span, merpeople were usually considered to be mature enough only when they’d lived a century, at which time they would have the freedom to go above and leave the kingdom at will. Klaus had seen his brother Elijah do it, secretly clinging onto the stories and souvenirs of his adventures. But as if sensing his eagerness, Mikael held off his ascendency until he was a hundred and fifty. He’d made the journey by himself that day, swimming as fast as he could towards the blurred visage of the sun.
His heart nearly stopped when he burst out of the water. A century and a half he’d been used to the thick consistency of water, the heaviness, the pressure. Now in the barely existent embrace of air, he felt unbearably light. For the longest moment he was frozen in space, lost and bewildered without the anchor of his destined burden. A thousand feelings warring in his chest, he was thrilled yet terrified, exalted but melancholy, all bravado, all resentment, all nostalgia. He ended up lurking around the reefs spying on the humans on shore, closer than he’d ever got, but feeling farther still.
How could he ever explain to her that he didn’t know how to live like that?
So finally he whispered gruffly, like the coward that he was, “it’s complicated.”
He snuck a peek at her, expecting a modicum of sympathy, but she only snorted, “‘it’s complicated’, give me a break! It’s all I’ve been hearing this past week. Hell, this past year. Let me tell you, Klaus, nothing is that complicated.”
He bristled at her quick judgment, standing up and towering over her in one stride, “and how would you know? Just because you’ve had an easy sheltered life -”
“Hey, stop right there!” Again with the finger. Klaus had half a heart to bite it off at this point, not having been interrupted by anyone outside of his siblings for decades. He was about to fire back a venomous reply when he felt her hand on his arm, the unexpected touch soothing him instantly.
“Look, I shouldn’t have invalidated your feelings, I’m sorry okay?” Caroline smiled sheepishly, then putting on a stern look, “but I refuse to be lashed out at.”
Klaus exhaled deeply, “it was not my intention, love. However, you need to understand that sometimes life presents us with impossible circumstances. Its natural cruelty is unmatched even by the sharpest minds.”
“Which is why everyone should just listen to me!” Caroline exclaimed, giving the sand a small kick in her frustration, and already a laugh was tickling at his throat despite himself.
“And pray tell why that is?”
“Because I have the best answers!” She swirled around, her soft scent surging around him, “for everyone! Elena, Stefan, Damon the Douchebag, even you.” She clasped her hands together, her eyes determined and sure, “Elena should dump both of the Salvatores and focus on herself for a while. Stefan can transfer to another university, up north, or maybe Europe. Somewhere with long winters and a lot of comfort food, no party schools. And Damon can just fuck off.”
Now he did laugh, unable to stay annoyed at her, “and what of me?”
“Well, I know it’s not my place yet, but I think you could use a break from that family business of yours. Not saying you should just up and quit, but go take a vacation or something.”
“Yet?” He teased her with a straight face, although his own amusement was hard to contain.
She blushed furiously down to her clavicles, the color set off by the blue of her dress, and one pink bra strap that had slipped out from the neckline. She had so many colors on her, down to the little trinkets that she used to adorn her impeccable form. It was strikingly different from Rebekah, who was at her heart still a creature of the sea and preferred pearls to any other jewellery like a true mermaid. Caroline, however, reminded him of a painting that he found in a sinking ship little over a century ago. The moment he had his eyes on it he knew he had to see it for real. Not in the perpetual cold blue hues of the ocean, but in the blinding sunlight where colors reside. And he did.
He saw all the swirling colors in broad daylight. So straightforward and honest and raw that it physically hurt him, yet he couldn’t avert his eyes.
“I never asked you why you wanted to be a marine biologist.”
Caroline’s eyes widened, no doubt surprised both at being spared from her slip, and at his memory of her words, “I’ve always loved the ocean. When I was young I used to watch The Little Mermaid all the time, it was my favorite movie back then. According to my mom, my first dream job was actually a mermaid. I guess a marine biologist is as close as I can get.”
“You’d make a perfect mermaid, sweetheart.”
“Yeah yeah, I know I would,” she obviously didn’t believe him, nodding along with a pointed look before bursting into melodic laughter. “But I have my heart set on marine biology for now.”
“I’m sure you’d excel at that, too.” Spoken no less sincerely than his last remark. He could see it in her eyes, the passions and ambitions burning bright. He knew a fighter when he saw one.
Caroline nodded emphatically, “I really want to. And as I’m sure you already know, whatever I want, I find a way to get it.”
“Simple as that, huh?”
“Exactly. Work, study, fame, love, peace, world domination...You can have it all, as long as you want it bad enough.”
Klaus reached for her hand then. It was soft and warm and trembling slightly, but she finally let it settle in his. Light as a feather, a piece of reassurance nestled in his palm, for what he didn’t know. Her eyes looked up to meet his, and Klaus felt a tide in his soul.
“Well sweetheart, I might just take your sage words for it.”
It seemed like he was going on a vacation after all.
