#originalhybridnik

[classystallions]

LMAO. i couldn't resist, ok?! but omfg. idek. um. something. surprise me! could be anything. dghfafghjg.

hahaha gjhaghakghkaga OKAY FINE GIVE ME NO HINTS. ugh. you know how I am with decisions BUT FINE. for you I will surprise you.

 AND TO ANSWER YOUR STATEMENT / TEASE FROM EARLIER. I CANNOT WAIT TO SEE WHAT MIEN IS GKAHGKHGKAGHA AND I MEANT MINE.clearly.

[classystallions]

banana a la klaus || a klaroline one-shot || part II

r e a d   p a r t   o n e   h e r e 

dedicated to ashland and anna

an absolutely ridiculous drabble, not to be taken seriously. 

She had agreed to a handshake, and ended up in his arms.

That was so not part of the deal.

And the bourbon licked kiss most definitely wasn’t.  A kiss Caroline is feverishly insisting I inform you she hated, every last second of it, and enforce the sturdy belief it was entirely stolen. Yep, no wonder she was shoving away from him, all insults and reprimands, just like no wonder she was kicking his ass to the curb and telling him to go homaloma- wait a minute. What the fuck, that’s not what’s happening. Why is she inviting his intoxicated ass inside?

Her plan, had she gone bat shit crazy?

Caroline would claim it was all because he is just much too drunk to be out there on his own – hello he might accidentally get staked, by white oak – but in all reality, a more valid alibi would have been to sling forth a claim to be all gung-ho for the chance to record physical evidence of this frankly unbelievable {was she dreaming? She better not be. That would mean fessing up to dreaming about him} scenario to use as blackmail then stem from any genuine concern.

Yeah, that’s what Caroline wants us to think. Silly girl seems to have forgotten her action speaks louder than my words, and given that she was wholeheartedly amused – if embarrassed – by his shenanigans, the if-only-it-were-more-secret truth of the matter remained within the very specific parameters she didn’t want him to get hurt.

Or serenade any other girls.

Wait, what?

But rather than deliberate this with those of us who are supposed to know what the fuck is going on, Caroline yanks the intoxicated Klaus – and I must stress his Banana, it is imperative to the story you see – inside. All curtly and forceful, like she is fed-up with him and only doing this for his own good, and not at all her secret desires. “Ok, what mind games are we – and by we, I mean you -- playing here!?” She stammers, as if by acting mad she’d be off the hook.

For inviting him inside, not that he couldn’t get in if he wanted to – she still hadn’t forgiven her mother for granting him access, screw the fact that decision had technically saved her life – because that again only highlighted she was willingly accepting him, banana and all.

Speaking of bananas, Caroline cast him the most curious of looks. “But seriously, what’s with the fruit?” Out of all the things she could have picked  to question – his unlikely inebriation, the fact he’d obviously seen Disney movies, or even that he’d chosen to serenade her – she questions the presence of his yellow curved instrument.

Seriously Caroline?

Next you’re going to be inquiring about its diameter.

What? It seemed abnormally sized for so late in the season. Swollen to perfection, one might even say.

But not Caroline, who was struck just now with the jaw-dropping mind asteroid that he’d seen the Lion King to be concerned with harbouring such scandalously fruity thoughts. Just as she became self-aware of her hands, still firmly wrapped around his forearms, and quickly let go. “Funny, I never took you for the Disney type.” She stated flatly, in a bald tone that admittedly was used to disguise how she’d dropped his Banana-clutching arm faster than a porno mag found in a guy's room. {That shit could be contaminated, yo. Besides, hello, that's what the interest was for.}

“Disney?” despite being drunk, Klaus sounded disgusted. Caroline wasn’t having any of it. “I bet it’s your favourite movie.” With hands planted on hips and a cutting stare, the blonde Barbie vamp was having quite a bit of fun with this. Probably because Klaus, with his childishly slurred “uh-uh” only dug himself a deeper grave, or at least wandered witlessly into her trap {although, granted, it could be argued his drunken made adhered such a sacrifice, like a pawn played to check the mate.} Caroline just smirked, and practically skipped as she led Klaus to his animated torture.

“Oh, you haven’t seen it? Then you won’t mind if we watch it” She stated, all sass, hips swaying with smugness as though certain she’d outsmarted him. “You’ve been deprived, it’s a requirement everybody see it” Caroline gave him a firm look before her attention turned to scanning the collection of old boxed VHS’s, rummaging through them before with a delighted squee tugging one out.

“Ah, I knew I had a copy.” Said as a threat, she couldn’t help but grin at him as she stalked playfully over, shoving his drunk ass – banana and all – down on the couch with a determined grin. “Just so we’re clear, this isn’t a date. I’m torturing you for disturbing my beauty sleep.” Caroline conveniently left out the part where it wasn’t his showing up and singing that disturbed her, but the things she dreamt about, that just so happened to include him.

This clarification didn’t stop him from attempting to snuggle. It was, quite frankly, the single most strange and genuinely surprising of notions, seeing him act so unconditionally tender. In fact, it gave Caroline the distinct impression he’d melted into a harmlessly puppy dog, who was eager in his quest to strive for her attention, as though ready to shower her in kisses. He certainly pulled her close enough to try – on multiple occasions.  Making the attempts to gather her up in those currently sloppy arms, at least 50 or so times before she finally gave in, relenting under the arm he encircled slyly around her waist. Admitting, at least on that mental level of to herself, it felt remarkably good there.

Hell, between you and me she might have even been content to stay that way, had his lips not found her neck and inspired the most intense of quivering compulsions, oh dear. This just wouldn’t do. This was leading nowhere good. Desperate for a distraction to drive between them like a dagger of denial, Caroline whips off the couch so fast she gets a head-rush, and uses the first thing she sees as an excuse.

“Banana!’ Quite rightly so, Klaus looks perplexed in his confusion in comprehending this, even as Caroline dives to snatch up the abandoned fruit and holding it up like the damn holy grail. It was her salvation in this moment, all right!? “Could you repeat that love? I’m not quite sure I follow…” Klaus got out, the line remarkably coherent but Caroline was too concerned with her own feelings to notice the fact he might – just maybe – be faking this whole absolutely hammered act. ”a Banana-split is the only thing missing from this scenario!” she stated, so adamantly you’d think that was actually a grain of truth in that completely spontaneous {read: made up} fact.

With that, she snatched up his Banana and ran.

Ran straight to the kitchen, obviously where she proceeded to hyperventilate while peeling, stripping away the dark yellow layer to reveal the bare fruit inside. However, the banana wasn’t the only one to be experiencing some peeling of outer layers, as Klaus too found himself – for whatever reasoning made legitimate by his over consumption of alcohol – stripping down the final layers of his clothes.

“I waaaant to feeeeel the loooove tonight,” he strode in singing, naked save those damn necklaces he always wore, and improvising the lyrics. Caroline dropped the poor Banana, she was that shocked, and shrieked a little, looking away. Hands raised as shields, only incapable of not stealing peeks between the wide-cracked open fingers. As though not really wanted – capable – of looking at anything but his own well hung piece of equipment.

Jesus fucking hybrid.

“Klaus!!!” she yelled, voice pitched like a 13 year old boys – all cracking and stammered – as she gave out a little shriek – another – and spun on a heel. Don’t look, don’t look, for Pete’s sake don’t stare. “You cannot be serious.” Not here. “What if my mother should walk in and see you!?”

Yeah, like that was the only thing wrong with this scenario. 

[classystallions]

originalhybrid-nik

i couldn’t resist, ok. it’s weird not sending you things. and so wala. things sent! but. sdfghjfdsf. so stoked to read it! like, you have no idea. omg.

ALWAYS SEND ME THINGS. omg. you need to be my inbox bitch and you are not allowed to not be spamming it constantly ok!? If i don't seem more inbox love from you I shall WITHHOLD MY LOVE AND NOT GIVE YOU THIS AWESOME ONE SHOT TO SQUEE OVER AND WILL JUST SHARE IT WITH THE REST OF THE WORLD SO THERE. don't make me break my own heart.

[classystallions]

WELL, you already know what i think of you. addiction, i hope, is a two-way street. maybe? kind of? yeah? i love you, d <33333. and you're clearly an insane, closeted fangirl. simple as that. xD.

Me? A closeted fangirl!? NEEEEEEEEEEEEEEVAH. It's simply impossible. I do not fan. and I do not girl. 

But that addiction is most certainly a two-way street my pimp, I cannot get enough of you.

[murdering-minion-blog]

Christmas Shopping with Caroline | ONESHOT

THE REQUEST : Other [Klaus orders Gage to look after Caroline for the day. Enjoy!]

TITLE : Christmas Shopping with Caroline

FANDOM : TVD

SHIP : Klaroline 

PERSPECTIVE : One of Klaus's Hybrids {OC}

SUMMARY : Klaus's loyalist hybrid is tasked with humouring Caroline for the day, or in other words, accompanying her Christmas shopping.

That bitch is bat shit crazy.

This thought stood firmly as the sole resounding echo that proliferated his waking day and manifested directly into his minionly duty, or so stated the instructions tailored as his ultra-special daily assignment;  ones that had originally been perplexing enough to make him fear this was some kind of strange test, but frankly, now Gage knew why.

Oh he hadn’t at first, flabbergasted by the strange and sudden 360 in objectives, as spend the day with Caroline was a far cry from the typical don’t get within five yards of her if you value your life {unless, of course, it was to go to her defense. Klaus kept very detailed, and oh so very opposing, demands.} But as she flashed her charming brand of sass in order for him to, as she’d so bluntly stated, buck up and catch up, {it wasn’t as easy as it had originally sounded, to accompany the reigning Queen of Christmas on a mid-season shopping trip) it all of a sudden made sense.

 It wasn’t the clamping clutch of his sire bond keeping him here, a willing servant to her radical whims {he was willing to bet his temporary Bosslady was far more demanding than his beloved Bossman} but rather, his unwavering loyalty to the man who dictated his every waking {and sometimes even sleeping} breath. His glorious master knew it, too, and after the rest of the moronic pups had whelped at such a command, toting indifference in face of this infant Vampire’s ridiculous requests, Klaus had manipulated the fact that he, as the loyalist of the lot, would do exactly as she said, because he had requested it.

Ironic, really, considering Master Mikaelson typical branded threats {and often followed through with them} towards any creature with masculine parts dangling between their legs witless enough to stare at her, often leaving them at the very least blinded and yet this morning, Bossman had been all too happy to shove his prized possession {whether she acknowledged this ownership or not, fell within a different spectrum of argument which is regardless, irrelevantly redundant} into his minions care and had practically run in the other direction – he’d backed away that fast. That alone was unusual for Bossman, but it seems the holidays rendered Caroline a thousand times more overbearing then her typical, impossible bitch of a self.

There was no other explanation.

“Pink or Red?” Or so she reminded him with this simple statement, holding up what he could only assume was supposed to be something for Klaus. For a moment, Gage wasn’t quite sure if this bitch was serious. Brow arched, propped in judgement as he shuffled the copious amount of purchases around, ranging from décor to god-only-knows-what that he’d found himself the mule forced to carry. “You know how he feels about pink.” Gage finally said, tactfully, while trying to discern just what game this girl was playing at. Girls were always playing games, or so he’d come to access. But sass was not what she handed him, instead Caroline threw the offending items down with a frustrated “You’re right,” and that’s when it hit him.

“You don’t know what to get him, do you?” He questioned, while watching her curiously from downcast eyes, shoulders slumped not in his usual shrug, but from the sheer weight of her necessities. To her benefit, he’d accessed them to mostly range within the category of gifts – Bosslady was certainly generous with his – aka Klaus’s – money. At least that made one of them. Expectedly, Caroline shot him a daggering look – like she was a stone’s throw away from ringing his neck over his gall in assuming such a thing would worry her. “It really doesn’t matter what I get him, does it?” She snapped, in a haughty tone he took merely as highly defensive.

Which was why it shouldn’t have surprised him when she pivoted abruptly and booked it out of there in an aggravated storming, straight out the store and into the thick mass of Christmas time shoppers, vanishing within their midst instantly. Shit. With his only concern stuck on genuine fear that Klaus would kill him for this, Gage took off after her, which was a bit of a task in and of itself, given the bodies he had to dart around and the precarious act of balancing the towering stack of bags and boxes he’d found himself overloaded with. It really was a good thing he had hybrid strength, and speed, but that didn’t make the heavy crowds of last minute shoppers any easier to navigate.

Scanning above the sea of shoppers, it took him less time then he’d thought to track her blonde head down, anxiously circling back and forth, as though not sure which direction in this damn claustrophobic mall she wished to travel. It was adorable in the sense that it hinted at her affections for his master, a sentiment Gage could truly understand. For he did adore the man who’d saved him from a self-inflicted end, and had willingly embraced the gifts the Original had graced upon him. Admittedly, few saw the sides of Klaus that Gage did, but he was starting to suspect this Caroline fell within that limited range.

And Klaus was getting under her skin, slipping past those defences he knew she thrust up for protection. Was that why she had been such a raging Queen Bee lately? It certainly explained a few things, but luckily for them both Gage was smarter than voicing these epiphanies, and instead just sort of gave her a little right this way nod that ushered her along into falling into an easy pace alongside him, as he navigated out of the dense crowds – and away from the clothing stores – towards a high end art supply store. Without so much as a word, Gage let her come up with the grand epiphany herself that maybe, just maybe this would be a better place to start.

One couldn’t deny that he was a clever little minion, and once again Klaus should be thanking him for this cocky ingenuity.

Or else he might have ended up with a pink cashmere sweater. 

---

dedicated to the amazing originalhybrid-nik

[classystallions]

You are as amazing as a chocolate chip cookie pass this on to those who are important to you. {WE'RE LIKE THE TITANIC. UNSINKABLE. wait ... never mind!}

IT DOESN'T MATTER BABY CAUSE I'M TOTES PREPARED FOR THIS SHIT! JSYK.

[classystallions]

A tiny little kitten stumbles into your ask box, holding a small letter in his mouth. He hands the note to you and it reads, “I love you. You are a wonderful, loved person.” Pass it on to the first ten people on your dash. {YOU WEREN'T EXACTLY ON MY DASH, BUT FUQ THAT. LOVE YOU, BITCH.}

LMAO! WHY AM I NOT ON YOUR DASH THIS IS NOT ACCEPTABLE. Iamsupposedtoconquryourdashomg! 

hahahaha youknowIwillloveyouforever.

[classystallions]

Deck the Falls || A Klaroline Christmas {part 1}

Outside it was becoming a thick, winter wonderland, as snow fell from the heavens in perfect, fluffy clumps, but Caroline didn’t have the time to notice, currently frantic over achieving her newest project, hosting the ultimate Christmas.

Everything just had to be perfect.

Regardless of her stance on whether they held the status of an official item or not, {or even whether she actually liked him for that matter} Caroline had taken it upon herself to see this holiday come out as one for the Mikaelson record books. Reverting back to her neurotically obsessive self in her steadfast conviction to pull these Yule-time celebrations off immaculately...

Well it was either that or drive everyone suicidally mad in the process.

Or so claimed Kol, who certainly hadn’t been shy about letting his opinions be heard; incessantly making degrading comments in regards to her Nazi-like reign of {as he’d bah humbug-inly dubbed it} the holiday fucking cheer parade, from where he arrogantly sat on that damned leather couch, as though entertained by her struggles.

Thank god Bonnie held the power to shut him up – Caroline just wished she’d chosen to attain that goal by lieu of magically stitching those bloody lips together, but still, these thoughts officially marked the first time Caroline had been grateful of anything to do regarding Kol and her bestest best friend on the whole wide planet {who as it turns out, she just so happens to be quite possessive over.}

This attitude of course, only worked to subliminally suggest she held more in common with Klaus then Caroline was currently prepared to admit, and thus quite happily flew in the face of ultimate ignorance. Just as she remained blissfully unconcerned with the fact she technically was {willingly at that} bunkering down at the Mikaelson mansion, day in and even nights too, in order to achieve perfection.

Now if only his hybrids would listen!

“No! No! No! That’s still not right.” Caroline chides with an unimpressed cluck of the tongue, face scrunched in a further extension of this extreme distaste, the whole look further accentuated by the rapid tapping of her pen against the clipboard, both clutched with a white-knuckled intensity. “More to the left- No, ugh- Your other left.” This was hopeless. Utterly hopeless.

Couldn’t he find better help?

With a huff, Caroline abandoned the sire-bonded buffoons to seize on the next pair of worthless Christmas helpers, who were making an atrocity of the garland wrapped down the curved stairs. “Red!? Why are they red!? I said I wanted white. It’s classy, like a winter wonderland.” And didn’t remind her of blood, or so implied the frustrated undertones woven within her shrill timbre.

They didn’t even seem to listen to her, but continued to coil the wrong coloured lights into the garland before at last giving the flippant response that they were simply doing as they were told, as if trying to make her go away. Told!? “Oh and just who told you to do this?” Caroline spat, irked, but not so much as she was by the chipper answer that came not from the hybrids but Rebekah, who’d cockily appeared at the top of the stairs. “I did,” she claimed, all haughty and proud with her elbows pointing out from jutting hips and a cutting smirk to boot.

 “I happen to live here, and last time I checked, you don't.” With an elevated eyebrow that seemed to taunt her status as the Bitchiest blonde on campus, Rebekah continued to challenge Caroline to contest this authority, egging her on with the sickliest sweet of smiles, of which {of course} was fake to the core.

Ugh! Raging with the desire to take the other blonde bombshell on, Caroline is forced to rely on her enormous level of control {and it did take all of it} to suppress that irrational desire to choke Rebekah, and keep her foot from childishly stamping at the injustice, redirecting instead that boiling anger into a simple, if sinister scowl.

Caroline knew, from her brief stint in Klaus’s body, {x} that strong as she liked to think herself, she desperately lacked the gum-shoe to take on an Original.

How very unfortunate.

Which left only one alternative, and she found him in his drawing room. “Nik,” Caroline called out, her newest nickname for him expelled on a huff of breath as she appeared in the doorway, one shoulder reclined against the frame while addressing him with a proper pout. “They won't listen to me-” She’d meant to fall into a long tangent of complaints, and yet found herself distracted – mesmerized even – by the actions of his inner artist, caught off guard by how… at peace he looked.

Not to mention gorgeous, but she was conveniently ignoring that fact.

Clipboard clutched to chest, Caroline couldn’t help but fall victim to the curiosity that clipped away at the core of her frustrations. “What are you working on?”

However, his lover-in-denial was nothing if not the Queen of stubborn, and wouldn’t be so easily perturbed from her feverish mission of achieving the perfect holiday, and so naturally reverted back to the original objective, shaking off the throbbing fascination with a prominent eye-roll. “Don’t you have any reliable help?” She refused to call them minions – even if she was of a mind to boss them around, ever unabashed at being the ultimate hypocrite.