Notes: Hi all! I've just finished my not so fun semester. I've not written a whole lot lately but I have been doing little drabbles when I had a spare bit of time and posting them on Tumblr. This batch is all non-vamp/witch/werewolf magical AUs. The irst one is NSFW, the rest are all SFW. Enjoy!
No Time For Common Sense
(Prompt: "both of us are trying out for the same chaser spot on the quidditch team and once it's clear we're the best there by far we start doing progressively crazier stunts to outdo each other" au. SMUT)
Caroline's limping when she makes her way out of the shower stall, her flip flops slapping loudly on the tile floors. The locker room is quiet since the other women trying out for the team had been quicker than she was. She liked them all, which was a bonus. They'd made plans to get together for brunch over the weekend, to compare notes about their tryout experiences.
She'd heard them file out a half hour ago, talking and giggling, while Caroline had still been wincing through shampooing her hair. Her left side feels like one continuous bruise and her knee is screaming bloody murder courtesy of a rough landing. She'd barely managed to pull out of a spin before crashing into the ground, had been thrown from her broom and hit the grass in a roll.
At least she'd managed to keep a hold of the quaffle.
That seemed like a small victory now that Caroline can barely bend her leg but she'd take it. Stairs are going to be a bitch tomorrow. She's dreading the lecture she'll have to sit through when she drags herself to Bonnie. Bon's one of Caroline's oldest friends and a current mediwitch in training and has glared disapprovingly while patching up Caroline's more minor injuries.
Of which there have been many.
As sore as she is it's nothing she hasn't dealt with before over the last few weeks. Tryouts for the New Orleans quidditch team are notoriously brutal, sabotage among hopefuls not uncommon. There was a single chaser spot open this year and Caroline was determined to get it. Unfortunately, she wasn't the only one gunning for the position. She'd already made it through two cuts and there was one other person left in the running. The worst possible person.
In addition to being a giant pain in the ass Kol Mikaelson was also the brother of the team's captain which was why Caroline was pushing herself, and her body, to such extremes. She knew she was better than Kol, that she would work harder. She only had to convince Klaus.
And she would.
A throat clears, startling her, and Caroline's hand flies to the knotted towel at her chest, checking that it's secure. Her jaw drops for a moment when she sees Klaus lounging on one of the benches, looking perfectly at ease despite the humidity and the tendrils of steam floating around the room. "Can't you read?" Caroline hisses before she can even think about reconsidering. "This is the women's locker room."
Klaus grins in response and she feels a little relieved that he seems completely unoffended. He's mostly seemed amused when her mouth had gotten away from her on the pitch – had laughed when he'd caught her muttering creative threats under her breath after a beater hopeful with more biceps than brains had nearly taken her head off. She gives him points for not getting pissy when her ire is directed his way. She'd have been livid if she'd just killed her chances by snarling a reprimand, mild though it had been, at him. "I read perfectly well, sweetheart. I just thought I'd make sure you were alright. You hit the ground hard. Left a bit of a dent."
Was he seriously concerned about the grass? Klaus had a reputation for being kind of a dick but that was a little much. "I'll send a note of apology to the groundskeeper," Caroline replies, not attempting to hide the sharp edge as she glares at him. She flips her hair over her shoulder, turning towards her locker. "Now, if you'll excuse me…"
Klaus interrupts her with a harsh noise, and suddenly he's touching her. Caroline stills, lets out a soft pained grunt when his fingertips brush over a particularly sore patch of skin near her shoulder blade. "Sorry," he murmurs, immediately lightening the pressure. "That looks bad."
"It didn't feel great," Caroline admits, remembering how she'd felt like all her bones had been jarred, how she'd laid there dazed and aching until Kol had touched down next to her, taunted her until she'd dragged herself to her feet.
He hums in acknowledgement, pressing slow soothing circles into her skin. She relaxes into it for a moment, head tipping to the side in relief before she catches herself, tossing a wary look over her shoulder, "If you're the kind of skeeze who's going to try to get me to sleep with you in return for a good word with the coaches I will make you regret it."
"That'd be a bit useless considering you've already been selected."
It takes a moment for that to sink in but when it does Caroline whirls, her wet hair slapping her shoulders, "Shut up."
He looks incredulous, "You've been working yourself to death, Caroline. Have been taking frankly insane risks in the drills and managing impressive plays. Of course you made the team."
The only thing stopping her from breaking out into a victory dance is the fact that she knows it'll hurt. And that she's not sure her towel's up to the strain. "What about Kol?"
Klaus shrugs, "Honestly, Kol and I as teammates would be a disaster. One of us would likely end up dead and then those obligatory family dinners would be even frostier."
He seems perfectly nonchalant, his eyes on her face, and Caroline finds herself relaxing. She offers him a small smile, "Well, thanks for the info."
"Your agent will be getting a call first thing tomorrow. Try to act surprised, yeah?"
Caroline can totally manage that. Thank you, drama minor. "Will do."
"I brought some bruise paste," Klaus tells her, hefting a familiar jar. "Will you let me help you?"
She bites her lip, considering the offer. She hadn't allowed herself to flirt with Klaus, though she's definitely had the opportunity, and had sensed he'd be amenable, not wanting the distraction during tryouts.
Which were over now.
Maybe she could celebrate that fact, and her brand new awesome job, with something better than Haagen Daas.
As long as they got a few things straight first, "Is this a regular thing for you? Do you nurse sore muscles and soothe the bruises of all your teammates?"
"Hardly," Klaus denies. "If I offered I think they'd insist I had a concussion."
"So why me?"
He doesn't shift, makes no attempt to dodge her eyes. Merely tips his head to the side, the corner of his mouth tilting up in a smile, "Surely you've noted my interest? You took great pains to avoid my attempts to engage you in conversation that first evening when everyone went out."
"And yet you kept trying."
He nods, conceding the point. "Admitting defeat is not in my nature, love. And I rather thought you looked my way too often for someone who wasn't interested."
Ugh, she'd thought she'd been subtle. Caroline hadn't been able to stop herself from watching him, cataloguing the differences in his body and how he moved without quidditch pads. She's been a little tipsy by the end of the night, and his shirtsleeves had been pushed up, the buttons at his collar undone. It was entirely possible she hadn't been able to mask her appreciation.
He's waiting for her answer, patient and expectant and she shakes herself. "I didn't want things to get messy during tryouts."
"And now that tryouts are over?" Klaus asks, edging forward the slightest bit. Close enough that she could reach out and pull him closer.
It's a tempting thought.
Caroline takes a deep breath and turns, giving him her back once more, gathering her hair over one shoulder to keep it out of the way. She hears him open the jar, starts a little at the coldness of it as he begins to spread it on her skin. "Sorry," he murmurs, and she almost jumps again in surprise at how close he is, his warmth emanating faintly along her back.
Caroline shakes her head, doing her very best to stop her spine from melting under the soothing strokes of his palm, "It's fine."
Klaus, it seems, is determined to drive her insane. He leans closer, and she feels his breathe on her bare shoulder. "Let's hope this stops your pretty skin from turning black and blue."
This time she does shiver. Klaus hand skims lower in response, tracing the edge of her towel. She can feel his question though he stays silent. She inhales, the slightest bit shaky, loosening the knot and letting the towel slip lower, so the entirety of her back is exposed. His hands rest on her still covered hips gently, turning until he can sink down onto the bench with her in front of him. Her toes curl into the tiles when she feels his exhale against the base of her spine.
She half expects him to tug the towel away from her unresisting fingertips but he continues his work on her back, moving methodically down the length of her spine, spreading the bruise paste outwards until her head's rolled forward and she's got her lips pressed together to keep in her moans.
His hands are freaking incredible.
She can't quite stop the noise of complaint from spilling out when he stops. His answering sound of amusement is low, a little rough, and she's pretty sure he's breathing a little harshly when he stands. "That should suffice. Can I drive you to your hotel, sweetheart?"
Was he serious?!
She spins and shoves him back onto the bench before she can talk herself out of it. Caroline grips his shoulders and settles into his lap, pleased when his arms encircle her waist. His cock is also quite clearly straining the zipper of his jeans, and his jaw tightens when she rolls her hips against him. It was good to know she hadn't just made a total ass out of herself.
"That," she tells him severely, curling a hand around his neck, "was the kind of foreplay that romance novels are built on. 'Drive me back to my hotel?' Puh-lease."
The towel's still gathered around her waist between them and his hands slip upwards, gliding over the bare skin of her ribs, his thumbs teasing the underside of her breasts, still faintly cool from the menthol in the bruise paste. "Did you have something else in mind?" he asks, blinking up at her far too innocently for someone who's practically feeling her up.
Caroline's not really on board with the 'practically' part, arches her back in an unsubtle hint that has the added benefit of grinding their lower bodies together in a way that has Klaus hissing out a curse and Caroline's eyes fluttering at the pleasure of it. In case that wasn't enough of a hint she ducks her head, brushing her lips over his. Klaus leans back slightly, head tipping up so his mouth catches hers firmly, his lips parting in invitation.
One Caroline takes, delving into his mouth greedily, her fingertips skimming his throat, discovering the texture of his stubble as she tastes him for the first time.
She kisses him until she can't breathe, goes in for another once she sucks in a much needed lungful of air. Klaus is just as eager, hands beginning to wander and Caroline hums her approval when he cups her breast, rubbing over the tight peak, testing her reactions. There's something familiar about the callouses on his hand and he pulls back to watch her face, studying her reactions as he touches her, before his head dips. His mouth is hot on her nipple and Caroline runs her hand through his hair as he sucks, tugs when she feels the edge of his teeth. Klaus takes that as encouragement, switching sides as his hands slide up her thighs. He traces the crease of where her leg meets her torso, a pleased rumble coming from him at the dampness he finds there. "Do not even think about being smug," she warns him, narrowing her eyes playfully.
"Me? Smug, never."
She's about to call bullshit, because she's observed him enough over the last couple weeks to know that Klaus has a more than healthy ego, when he tugs the towel the rest of the way off, leaving her naked and spread across his lap.
The lap that remains fully clothed, which just isn't fair in Caroline's opinion. She makes quick work of his shirt but doesn't have time to consider the best way to get his pants off before he's distracting her. He's managed to insinuate his hand in between their bodies, stroking over her folds and she digs her nails into his shoulders to steady herself as she tenses. His hands are warm but there's a faint tingle because of the leftover ointment and it makes her squirm. Klaus kisses her collarbone, his voice a low rasp, "Tell me if I do anything you don't like. Tell me what you do like."
She nods mindlessly, pressing closer, letting out a sigh as his touch deepens, his fingers becoming slick as he learns her body. The words stick in her throat but Klaus doesn't seem to need them, reading the twitching of her muscles, the whines and moans that tumble from her easily until he's got two fingers pressed inside of her while his thumb does lazy circuits around her clit.
Klaus doesn't seem to be having the same trouble speaking, murmuring delicious filth in her ear, telling her how good she feels around his fingers, how he can't wait to feel her wrapped around his cock. "Let go, Caroline. Come for me," he tells her, low and demanding. She strains, rolling her hips against his fingers and shatters with a sharp cry, trembling against him.
He's mindful of her back as she comes down, the soothing strokes of his hands avoiding the areas he knows are bruised. She buries a smile in his throat, dragging her fingers down the taut muscles of his abs. They firm even further under her touch, twitching as she toys with his belt. "This needs to come off," Caroline tells him, soft and hoarse, a tone she barely recognizes. "Pants too."
Klaus shows no inclination to argue, leaning back to help her strip his jeans away. It's neither graceful nor smooth, her legs are a little wobbly and they almost spill off the bench, but they manage. Caroline reaches down, circling his cock as she nips at his jaw, running her hand along the length of him teasingly. "I really hoped you locked the door," she tells him, lining him up at her entrance. "Because we're totally going to need another shower after this."
His reply is unintelligible, a garbled groan as she sinks down swiftly, biting down on his shoulder to muffle her own whimper. He presses her closer, encourages her to wrap her thighs around his waist. She moans as he sinks in deeper, guides his mouth back to hers to muffle the sounds she's helpless to stop when he begins to move.
An hour later they make a quick pit stop for another jar of bruise paste when Klaus drives her back to her hotel. Luckily, the bed in her room is very soft.
How Big, How Blue
(Prompt: It's kind of an unspoken rule for us mermaids to not reveal ourselves to humans, but I've been watching you work as a life guard on my beach and I think it's about time I try this "drowning" thing you humans do that always brings you into the water. Title from the Florence + The Machine song. Rated K+)
There was something very odd about the human.
To begin with he'd managed to startle Caroline the first time she'd seen him. In her habitat, a place where he should be the one lacking in grace. It had been very late, the skies dark and the moon, a few days shy of full, the only illumination. She'd ventured close to the water's surface knowing that the humans would have long since retreated from the ocean.
They were delicate, had such trouble with the sea even during the days when the sun shone and warmed the water, forever shrieking and splashing and hopping out to apply that odd white paste only to venture in again and go through the same routine. Once night hit and temperatures cooled the humans preferred to stay on the shore, light their fires and cook their food on sticks while huddling close together under piles and piles of fabric.
At a young age Caroline had taken a liking to their music. She took every opportunity she could find to listen to it, often found herself humming along and swaying, taking care to keep herself obscured either by drifting just below the surface or hiding under docks or alongside tethered boats.
The evening she'd first encountered the unusual human who'd piqued her interest she'd been doing just that, floating on her back to keep her bright hair obscured. There were only a few people out that night and faint white clouds formed every time Caroline exhaled. Her eyes had been closed so she'd felt the disturbance in the water before she'd seen it and had immediately submerged herself with an ungainly splash, slipping deep into the water until her hands were brushing the sandy ocean bottom.
Wide-eyed she'd watched as a human passed over her, his long limbs cutting through the water in powerful strokes.
He'd worn none of the funny garments humans wrapped themselves in when they took to the water, not the flimsy brightly colored bits some preferred nor the sleek second skins some squeezed their way into when they planned to spend more time in the ocean.
That night he'd worn nothing at all.
She'd told herself to avert her eyes, that it was the polite thing to do, but her gaze had remained riveted on the pale expanse of his flesh on display, the way his muscles rippled as he slipped through the currents.
He'd never know about her wandering eyed, a tiny voice had whispered. Besides, it was her ocean, wasn't it?
Many of the mermaids Caroline knew weren't fond of humans. Her father spoke longingly of the days before their waters had been infested by them, sneered every time one of the huge ugly square dwellings they seemed to live in sprung up along a previously beautiful stretch of beach.
He'd be livid if he knew that one of Caroline's favorite past time was to watch them. They were just so… interesting.
Her curiosity had flared watching the human swim away from the beach and she'd found herself following, staying well under him as the water deepened, eventually growing alarmed as his distance from the shore increased and he showed no signs of flagging, his movements sure and steady.
Didn't he know the ocean was dangerous for a creature as frail as he was? That there were things that would delight in chewing him up and spitting out his bones for his human friends to find washed up on the shore?
Sure, the ocean would be peaceful immediately afterwards, the humans too wary to venture in. Caroline's father would be pleased. For a time. But humans always came back and sometimes, in the interest of safety, attempted things that were more of a hassle than their usual invasions in the name of fun.
Plus, Caroline would miss the music.
Her worries had been unfounded that night, the water around them had remained still, no predators making themselves known. Even the more benign species seemed to give them a wide berth, Caroline had spotted a small school of Bluefish veer sharply east, making their way around the oblivious human unprompted by any action on her part.
Very, very odd.
She'd just been debating doing something, what she hadn't been sure as revealing herself was strictly forbidden, when he'd finally slowed, and pulled himself upright to tread water. She'd made a slow circuit around his form, her senses tuned to make sure there were no threats nearby.
Caroline had not been in the mood to spoil a fine evening by fighting a shark, or something even worse, that sensed easy prey. Encroaching on her family's territory would be idiotic but Caroline had imagined that some might risk it for. Opportunities to steal a human so cleanly that far from land were rare.
She'd been on guard, tense and wary, the human oblivious above her. Caroline could hear his heart beating, listened to it gradually slow from its rapid rhythm as his motions grew languid.
She'd grown a touch concerned – had he overexerted himself? If so however was she supposed to get him far enough up onto the shore where he'd be found and helped without being seen? He hadn't acted like he'd been in any distress but still she'd drifted closer, reaching out to touch him, and had been startled by the warmth still being emitted from him and had immediately snatched her hand back, retreating further once it became clear that he was fine, had just been resting.
Her withdrawal had been a stroke of luck, as it turned out, because he'd ducked under the water, dangerously close to where she'd just been, and began to swim once more, this time back in the direction he'd come from.
She'd trailed him, her puzzlement growing, because he hadn't seemed the least bit tired, and his motions remained as strong and sure as they'd been on his way out. Humans were weak as a rule, not suited for the ocean, and easily exhausted by fighting its waves.
Except for this one, somehow.
He'd surfaced once more, a fair distance from the beach, paused and veered away from the small gathering on shore, swum west for several minutes until he'd aimed for land again, coming up on the opposite side of a small outcropping of rock, hidden from view of the other humans. She'd watched as he'd retrieved a small bundle, rubbed himself dry and dressed in unhurried movements. As if he didn't even feel the cold like a human should.
He'd padded away, swallowed up by the night, unaware that Caroline's eyes tracked his every movement.
She'd watched him until he'd disappeared, lingered even after wondering if he'd come back, before beginning her long swim back home.
Still, he remained on her mind.
The puzzle of him flitted through her brain at odd times over the next few days. Finally, unable to stand it anymore, Caroline took a chance and slipped away, back to the beach. It was still light outside, the sky filling with pinks and oranges as people trickled out of the water.
She spotted him right away.
Dressed in familiar clothes, the ones she often saw on a handful of humans, those tasked with the safety of the others of their species (and sometimes called to pluck a wayward one out of the water) he paced the border between the dry and wet sand. Some stopped to talk to him but never for very long, each dismissed and sent on their way.
He seemed impatient, edgy, the lines of his body obviously tense even from a distance. Once the beach was deserted he relaxed, if only minutely and Caroline watched with interest as he peeled his shirt off, tossing it behind him so the tide wouldn't take it, before taking several long strides into the water. Once it was waist deep he dove, not surfacing for a very long time.
Much longer than most humans could manage.
Caroline knew then that she was going to break a very big rule, that she couldn't not. She had far too many questions.
Tomorrow she'd come earlier. There was always a girl who got theatrical, flailing her arms and making a fuss as she pretended like the water was overcoming her, all in the hopes that one of the young men who watched over the beach goers would perform an act of heroism. Caroline would observe, see if she couldn't figure out a (more subtle and less ridiculous) imitation.
The next time this human went on his midnight swim she'd be ready to make his acquaintance.
The Abominable Snow-Kol
(Prompt: How about: "So I told him that under no circumstances was he allowed to pet the yeti, and that's when it happened…" Rated K+)
Klaus ignores his ringing phone, squares his shoulder and attempts to focus on the nearly blank canvas in front of him. He's been doing much the same for hours, ever since the incessant calls had started to roll in just after he'd risen. He'd checked the screen, found Kol's name flashing across it and had angrily set the device aside. Not crushing it into a useless ball of metal and glass had been difficult. Kol's taunts about his most recent traveling companion – the elusive Caroline Forbes – have been driving Klaus to distraction over the last few days.
As a result no one's dared disturb Klaus lately, not since he'd gotten a bit testy and tossed one of Marcel's hangers on over the balcony.
Kol knows precisely what he's doing and Klaus would bet he'd barely been able to contain his glee each time he'd sent a message. Pictures only, what seemed to be innocent glimpses of gorgeous scenery.
Until one looked closer, which Klaus did, and saw the little hints of Caroline flitting around the edges of the frames. The curve of her shoulder, her blonde curls blowing in the wind along the left of one. Her feet, toenails painted bright pink, her ankles crossed and resting on a chaise in the corner of another. Nearly a dozen images over the past week or so, each at a different time, sent with no warning, which Klaus devoured and memorized.
Klaus had attempted to reach Kol but his brother's not willing to give up his game, hasn't deigned to pick up his phone, nor answer any of Klaus' texts probing for details of their escapades (purely for practical purposes, of course. Kol inevitably got himself into a mess, it was only prudent that Klaus kept tabs so he could send in a cleanup crew quickly and efficiently).
The fact that Kol wants to talk now is both curious and suspicious. Klaus is refusing to rise to the bait, as difficult as it is.
The ringing finally stops and Klaus straightens, dabbing his brush in a deep blue. Perhaps he'll actually manage get something done. He mixes the pigments, searching for the perfect shade, losing himself in the task.
It takes a moment to register a new ringing. Tinny and distant had Klaus senses been even a fraction less keen he'd have missed it. He tips his head, trying to place it, realizes it's coming from his bedroom.
There's only one phone there. An old one.
Klaus is up the stairs before the palette and the brush hit the floor. He keeps the phone tucked away in his closet, plugged in and charged and he nearly rips the door off his hinges in his haste. He's expecting a call, deflates upon seeing a series of texts from an unknown number.
Reading them, Klaus realizes just who the sender is.
PICK UP YOUR DAMN PHONE, YOU DICK.
BARBIE'S ABOUT TO LOSE HER MIND.
IT'S NOT PRETTY
SHE'S SHRILL. AND LOUD.
MY EARS ARE NO LONGER SELF HEALING, REMEMBER?
Was Klaus supposed to feel sorry for Damon Salvatore and his pitiful returned humanity? Because he really didn't.
Still, he rushes back downstairs, snatches his current phone up off of the table where it's resting. He hurriedly dials, beginning to pace as he waits for the call to connect.
Caroline doesn't bother with pleasantries, sounds out of breath, though he hears loud mechanical rattling in the background, "Finally!" she spits. "I have been calling you for hours."
"Kol and I aren't…speaking at the moment," Klaus explains, feeling a tinge abashed. Caroline's been travelling for a few decades now and they've seen each other a few times. Casual run-ins that he'd arranged where they'd caught up and she'd smirked and tossed barbs that were friendlier than not while mostly ignoring his contrivances.
She snorts, "Yeah, I saw his phone. He's a creep, by the way, and we will be having words about the ethics of sneaking pictures and sending them without permission."
Klaus perks up, pleased that it seems as if Caroline's grown tired of Kol's antics. "Oh? Have you two parted ways?"
"Oh, I wish," Caroline bites out, a world of exhaustion in the words. "He's currently completely out of it and growing fur after tangling with some witches. I seriously thought about leaving him behind and booking it but my pesky conscience got in the way."
Apparently Klaus had been correct to anticipate trouble. He heads back upstairs, knowing he needs to find shoes. He'll need to track down Elijah too, from the sounds of it. Bekah as well, if only because she'll throw a tantrum if she misses the sight of Kol cursed and covered in fur. "Well, you're young yet," he jokes lightly. "I'm sure your conscience will grow less troublesome with time."
"Yeah, I'm sure you'd like that," she mutters, though Klaus thinks he hears amusement behind her exasperation.
"Where are you?" Klaus asks.
"I think we're close to the Nepalese border. I lost my phone in the fray, expect a bill by the way, otherwise I would have called you myself. It's lucky I've got Elena and Damon's home number memorized."
"Mmm, my least favorite Salvatore did not seemed pleased to be the messenger."
Caroline snorts, "Please. It's the least he can do after all the times he expected me to do his bidding."
He finds himself smiling. Caroline's just as he remembered, and she'd never been one to forget a slight or shy away from pressing an advantage. Something he's always admired. It's really too bad this isn't a personal call. Klaus focuses on the pressing problems, "You're driving?" he asks, just to confirm.
"I stole a car."
"So grand theft auto doesn't tickle you conscience?" Klaus teases.
She huffs out an annoyed breath, "Desperate times. Once Kol went down I chose flight. I was seriously outgunned."
"Smart, sweetheart. Covens in that area of the world are secretive and said to wield great power." They've been something of a fascination of Kol's for centuries though they've always spurned his attempts to make cordial contact. "Now, what's this you've said about fur?"
She makes a noise, low in her throat that's almost a laugh, "So, witch familiars are a thing, which I'm sure you knew."
"I did," Klaus confirms. "I've seen a variety over the years."
"Well, these witches have them. And Kol got a little bit too fascinated despite the fact that they warned him to stay away and promised dire consequences if he didn't."
Klaus held back a sigh. Waving that sort of temptation in front of Kol was a terrible idea. "What did he do, sweetheart?"
"Well, they invited us to a gathering and they seemed nice enough. No one tried to kill me which is kinda a novelty with witches, you know? Kol tagged along and didn't really make friends. He totally needs to quit that smarmy thing he thinks is flirting. Learn how to read a signal. Actually, you know what? Maybe he comes by that honestly."
Klaus laughs, ignores the dig and tucks the phone into his shoulder as he begins to pack. "And then what?"
The breath she blows out is long. "And then things got weird."
"Not an anomaly where Kol's concerned, I'm afraid."
"Yeah, well, I told him that under no circumstances was he allowed to pet the yeti, and that's when it happened…" Caroline words trail off, her silence expectant.
Klaus pauses, straightens. Surely he couldn't have heard that correctly. "Yeti?" he manages, unable to help his skepticism.
"Yeti," Caroline confirms, sounding perfectly serious. "I know it sounds nuts and I promise I'm not in cahoots with Kol in some elaborate prank. Actually, here, wait."
He hears some static, shuffling and the sound of the car slowing. His phone dings after a moment and Klaus sees he's received a photo.
It's of Kol, slumped awkwardly in a cramped and dingy backseat. Growing, as Caroline had said, coarse and prickly looking white fur out of his face and neck.
Klaus is torn between several emotions, annoyance at the fact that he was going to have to fly across the world to sort out this mess, that it would likely cost him a pretty penny, all because Kol was completely lacking in common sense. He's a touch pleased too, because he'd just been thinking that it was time to track down Caroline for one of their visits before Kol had found it first.
He also wants to laugh because he knows Kol's vanity is going to take an awful hit once he's aware of his new hirsute state.
He clears his throat, does his best to sound matter of fact, "Right. Keep driving. I'll pull your location from Kol's phone."
"You have him lo-jacked?"
"It's proven most helpful, love. As I'm sure you can imagine."
She hums an agreement, "I guess I can see that."
"I'll text you directions once I've gotten a flight together for you. We'll meet you halfway."
"Alright," Caroline says, resignation clear. "Make it somewhere nice, huh? Warm, if possible. I'm freaking freezing."
"I'll do my best," Klaus promises, saying goodbye and disconnecting the call.
He packs methodically, putting together plans as he goes. Caroline had wanted something nice, hadn't she? And really, he was sure he could convince her to linger awhile. Footing the bill for a little luxury was the least he could do for her after Kol had gotten her entangled in his nonsense.
Klaus was certain he could persuade her. Rome was nice this time of year, and the perfect distance between New Orleans and Caroline's location.
Had it only been an hour ago he'd been considering digging out the daggers? How quickly things could change. Klaus might even owe Kol a favor assuming setting him to rights wasn't too much of a hassle.
Under Night Sky
(Prompt: Au, hybrid!Klaus meets dragon!caroline in Aspen, she hates the cold, bed sharing happens. I didn't quite get to the bed sharing though!)
There were few things that annoyed Caroline more than tourists. Aspen, her current home base, was lousy with them this time of year. They polluted the restaurants, the bars, every single shop in town. She supposed it was good for the economy and she didn't begrudge her neighbors the profits. That didn't stop her from being irritated by it. Even worse was that they were all over her mountain. Humans were everywhere, from sunrise to sunset – with a few stragglers who liked skiing in the dark - severely limiting her opportunities to change and stretch her wings.
She was constantly restless, unable to focus, her skin itchy and tight. Even now, curled up in her favorite chair by a fire with a truly excellent smutty novel, she's cranky. The recent dip in temperature and increase in frigid winds only shortened her already fraying temper.
Seriously, the next drunk frat boy who tossed her a terrible line and expected his stunning wit to earn him a VIP pass into her pants might just get eaten.
Caroline took comfort in the fact that the busy season was almost over. She'd have a couple months to breathe before the summer rush began. That one was slightly more tolerable because at least she wasn't cold in addition to being crowded.
She tosses her book aside in frustration, having realized that she's been reading the same page over and over again. She'd just been getting to the good stuff and it deserved her full attention. A quick glance out the window shows the sun just beginning to set, faint wisps or pink and orange streaking the sky. She usually makes herself wait until it's fully dark before setting out but maybe, just this one time, it won't hurt to go a little early. It was a record low for February, surely most of the tourists had called it an early day, were safely tucked into lodges and cabins with hot chocolate or wine.
She'll just drive slowly, Caroline decides, standing up and stretching out her stiff limbs. By the time she gets to her spot it'll be fine. Deserted and private, just her and the night sky.
Later, Caroline will wonder if the decision to break her routine was among the best, or one of the worst, she's made in her very long life.
It's not until she's transformed, endured the shift of muscle and bone – painful but endlessly freeing – that Caroline notices something's amiss. In her human form her senses are slightly better than average but nothing compared to her enhanced sight and smell that comes when she's let her dragon loose.
Her clearing, deep in a forest, further than anyone but the odd park ranger bothers to go, has been visited recently. She'd seen the tracks, noted that there must be a particularly large wolf in the vicinity, had been vaguely excited at the possibilities of a hunt. Intent on tracking it she sets her nose to the prints, lets out a startled huff as she takes it in. Another scent mingles with the wolf's, not one Caroline knows but there is something familiar about it.
She's met many werewolves, knew which bits of the legends floating were fact and what was fiction. Transforming at will, a solid week out from the full moon, wasn't something they could do. And yet, there was that distinct scent, proof that one had managed the feat.
How very interesting.
Caroline had never been very good at minding her own business.
As much as she longs to push off, to break the treeline and soar until she's exhausted, the mystery of the tracks nag at her. It's a lone wolf, she knows, incapable of being even a hint of a threat to her. She could let it be, make some calls later to friends who are more in the loop to satisfy her curiosity and see if some new kind of werewolf exists out in the world.
That would probably be the prudent choice.
But prudence was so boring and it's been forever since anything has happened to break up the monotony of Caroline's days. It's been months of hanging out in her apartment, only leaving it when she needed something, or for her solitary flights around the mountains.
She's following the paw prints before she can talk herself out of it.
Caroline's not as stealthy as she wants to be, the werewolf is large in comparison with actual wolves but significantly smaller than she is so can't help disturbing the underbrush around her, sending leaves rustling and snapping branches. She considers doubling back to the clearing and the clothes she's stashed, following on foot. Nixes the idea quickly. Transforming took several minutes and her human skin was far more vulnerable than her dragon's scales. She'd heal if the werewolf decided to attack but she'd really rather avoid being bitten and scratched until she could shift and fight back and make the wolf regret attempting to hurt her.
A little burst of fire or one good chomp would do the trick nicely.
The scent's beginning to get stronger and Caroline knows she's getting closer. Anticipation is humming through her and when she pushes through a dense wall of trees and splashes into an icy stream she lets out a guttural sound of annoyance, making a quick leap to clear the water.
Only to be startled by an amused human laugh.
How had she missed the naked man?!
"Finally," he drawls, unbending from the crouch he'd been in. "I've been waiting for you to catch up, sweetheart."
Huh. Not the usual reaction one had, supernatural or not, to coming upon a ten foot winged lizard. Dragons were rare, knowledge of the species closely guarded, and a werewolf shouldn't have the slightest clue that things like her existed.
Maybe, Caroline thinks, tensing in readiness to take off, she should have been more cautious. The man remains unnaturally still, the slightly curled ends of his hair dripping as he studies her. The droplets hit his shoulders and collarbone before slipping lower, trickling down pale skin pulled taut over lean muscles.
She lets her eyes linger on him, feels no shame in doing so. He's not the slightest bit self-conscious, makes no move to hide any of the very impressive parts of his body from her gaze.
Caroline can't help but appreciate his lack of modesty, mentally berates herself for it. Maybe she should have taken one of the frat boy's offers. Surely, if they didn't talk, she could make do and would be less inclined to appreciatively ogle an unknown, if attractive, entity?
Her attention shifts back to his face when he raises his hands slowly, palms up in what Caroline's certain is feigned supplication. Her instincts are sharp, well-honed and never wrong. Her gut's been the only thing that's kept her alive a time or two or twelve over the centuries. She knows when to fight, only does it when she's sure she can win. Faced with the too knowing golden eyes of this stranger she's no longer sure she'd come out on top if things get bloody.
A small part of her is intrigued. Still she eases back a step, takes a deep breath and lets out a puff of air that carries a hint of a threat, the smallest bit of smoke and flame. Not close enough to him to do any damage, she merely singes a nearby bush.
The werewolf's brows rise, his full lips tipping up into a smile, "Ah, you're exactly as advertised. I'm suitably impressed though I assure you I mean you no harm."
This time her snort is distinctly disbelieving and he has no trouble parsing her meaning. He nods a concession, "Yes, I admit that luring you deep into the woods looks suspect. Would it help if I mentioned your friend Bonnie sent me your way?"
It's a surprise but it does the trick. Caroline relaxes slightly though she maintains the distance between them. She's known the Bennett witches for a very long time, Bonnie, the newest of the line, was a good friend, bright, loyal and more powerful than she knew. Caroline was quite fond of her, trusted her more than most people.
He drifts a step closer, palms still slightly raised, his tone warm and beseeching. "Why don't you change back, love? So we can make introductions properly. Discuss a bit of mutually beneficial business."
That earns another noise, a swift denial and she takes her own step away. Did he think she was an idiot? Caroline was tough to kill but that hadn't stopped people from trying over the years. Worse were the idiots who thought to imprison her, the ones who knew how valuable her blood and scales and teeth were. They'd always attempted to strike when she was in her human body, when her strength and speed were manageable, her claws not nearly as sharp.
She reaches out with one, the tip lethally pointed and more than capable of gutting him, and scrawls out a symbol in the snow. It's the logo of a bar in town and if he's not smart enough to figure it out Caroline doubts any business he pitches will be worth her time. He studies it for a second before nodding genially, "As the lady wishes. Tomorrow? Say, 8 o'clock?"
Caroline jerks her head in acknowledgement, stretching her wings and preparing to push off. His eyes light up, turning molten and hot, a greedy fascination clear as they take her in. "Fascinating," he murmurs. "I'll be there."
She's in the air before he can say anything else, high above the tree line with only a few powerful flutters of her wings. He remains still, getting smaller and smaller but Caroline somehow still feels his gaze. She does her very best to ignore the warmth building in her. Her gut told her that those eyes of his were dangerous, that skipping town might be her best option. That he was more than he appeared. She reaches for reason, for cold rationality, but finds it hard to grasp.
She curses her restlessness, her often over active imagination. She wants to know what color his eyes turn when his wolf's safely tucked away, if the impact of them on her body is the same.
Tomorrow she'll find out.
Have It All
(Prompt: Klaroline + they find out dragons exist/aren't extinct when Caroline accidentally finds herself with a pet dragon. WARNING: Contains the full line up of canonical magical babies. Skip if you're not into them! Rated: K+)
When Caroline's newest student, a young boy from a coven in remote part of Sweden that was exhibiting abilities his parent's didn't know how to deal with, had shown up with a blue enameled box as a gift Caroline hadn't been able to turn it down. He'd smiled, sweet and shy, and told her in lilting accented English that he was looking forward to beginning to learn and left the box on her desk while one of her assistants set out to introduce him to the other kids in his age group.
She'd studied the box for a minute, held it up to the light to admire the vivid blues and swirling silvers that decorated it. It had been remarkably heavy, she'd noted and she'd been searching for a latch when someone had knocked at her office door.
Running a school meant precious little time to kick back and relax, Caroline had found. She was forever on her feet putting out (sometimes literal) fires. She'd set the box aside to go deal with her visitor and once she'd returned to her office she'd buckled down to tackle some of her endless piles of paperwork and forgotten all about it
Until it had begun to move. On its own.
Now, a couple years ago Caroline might have screamed bloody murder. These days her nerves were made of sterner stuff. She'd been through all sorts of life and death situations and currently she was often surrounded by tiny people with extreme, sometimes uncontrollable, power at their disposal. A spontaneously moving object is nothing and Caroline merely pushes back her chair, eyeing the box where it's perched innocently on a bookshelf under the window.
She'd been subject to a prank or two and while little Valter Andersson didn't seem the type to attempt to make an entrance but maybe that had been on purpose, an attempt to lull her into a false sense of security by hiding his true shit disturber nature.
Magical kids were crafty.
Caroline stretches as she rises, wincing at the faint crack of her spine. She'd been sitting still for way too long, hadn't even noticed it was dark outside. The girls usually hustled her out of her office for dinner or their bedtime routine at the very least, but they were taking a long weekend camping trip with Alaric. She'd been invited but had turned the offer down. Caroline liked indoor plumbing and mattresses, thank you very much, and had decided to stay behind and take the opportunity to get some work done.
The box moves again, a corner edging over the lip of the shelf and Caroline's steps quicken, her hands reaching out to nudge it to safety. She's surprised that it's warm, almost hot, considering the sun had set hours ago. It also seems to be humming faintly, and Caroline has no doubt that there's something witch-y happening.
"Just don't explode," she mutters, reaching for it again. She really didn't want to have to repaint her office or hunt down a new bookcase this weekend. Feeling for a seam she's startled when it opens in her hands. She flips the top up higher, her brows creeping up when she sees a silver egg thing inside.
It has a pronounced crack and is moving about in the bed of soft, silky looking it lays in. She leans closer, almost drops the box when the crack widens.
Was that a… snout? Was there something alive in there?
Cautiously, Caroline reaches in with a fingertip, brushing away a broken bit of shell. A tiny head peeks out, pale blue and scaly, it's eyes blinking open to peer up at her. "Oh my god," Caroline breathes. It makes a noise, a tiny adorable chirp-y thing, and its head nudges her fingertip. "Hi," she manages softly, petting its head gently, doing her very best not to freak out.
She'd never had a pet and lizards gave her the heebie jeebies. Still, no need to scare the poor little thing. It squeaks again, giving a shudder, breaking though the rest of the shell.
At which point she almost drops the box because the lizard had freaking wings.
She's immediately startled again, this time by another knock on her office door and Caroline whirls, setting the box gently on her desk where it'll be safer than in her shaky hands. She hadn't even heard anyone approach, so engrossed was she in the box and its contents.
The knock comes again, and she calls permission to enter. Klaus' face is creased with concern when he crosses the threshold, his eyes darting about the room suspiciously. "What's wrong?" he asks, clipped and forceful.
Caroline barely notices Kol wandering in after him even though such a sight usually would have gotten an eye roll or twelve. She'd relocated the school to New Orleans just over six months ago. After a couple years in Mystic Falls Matt was getting antsy as they kept expanding, witches from all over sending kids for guidance, werewolves without packs and vampires without sires showing up at the boardinghouse's door. She'd had to become an expert at deflection, every time she ran into one of her old teachers or some of her classmates a comment was made about how good she looked and questions about her skincare routine asked.
People were only going to buy the sunblock and green tea spiel for so long, she'd known.
Klaus had remained her most generous benefactor over the years, checks popping up regularly no matter how many times she'd protested it was too much. He'd brushed her concerns aside easily with jokes, "Nonsense, love. I've been meaning to sell that castle for ages," and sincerity, "Only the very best for my child," and kept the money flowing into the school's accounts.
When she'd begun to mention packing up and relocating Klaus had pounced on the opportunity. Talked up New Orleans, the history, the abundance of supernatural types who would surely be interested in employment (convincing qualified instructors to move to a town as tiny as Mystic Falls had always been a trial and she often ended up boosting their salaries as an incentive). Tossed her a tiny bit of heart melting guilt about how difficult it was to convince a now nearly teenage Hope to come home for breaks. He'd convinced her to visit, to check out the city.
And, damn him, Klaus had her totally pegged. Caroline had loved New Orleans from that first evening in the quarter, the sounds of jazz music and boisterous laughter bouncing between the stone buildings as she walked by Klaus' side.
She'd been sold even before he'd steered her towards the beignets.
She'd expected him to pick up where he'd left off years ago in Mystic Falls, to immediately begin tossing breath stealing romantic gestures her way in an effort to woo her. She'd even been willing to let him.
In the years since Stefan had died she'd a brief relationship or two, nothing all that serious because Caroline had found she kind of liked being single. It was nice to be able to do what she wanted, to be a little selfish with her time and energy, to not be weighed down by the never ending boyfriend woes that had plagued her since high school. She'd long since accepted that she'd never be Stefan's first choice and she'd made her peace with it, and with how he'd chosen to die. She'd fervently wished she'd had a little more time with him, a little more happiness, but in the end perhaps it had been better that they'd never had the life she'd planned.
Getting over a lifetime with him, something she'd known she'd have to do from the second he turned human, would have been so much harder.
In making the decision to move to New Orleans she'd known she'd likely have to reevaluate her commitment to her relationship status. Klaus had never been shy about letting her know his intentions, that he was still vying to be her last love. He flirted, and charmed, and he'd opened up in the letters they sent back and forth, revealed his own brush with heartbreak, until Caroline truly thought of him as her friend.
When she'd begun packing she'd done so with nervous excitement, thinking of the new chapter she was starting, one that was going to be filled with new adventures of the personal variety, not just the professional.
Imagine her surprise to find that Klaus seemed determined to hold back. Oh, she knew he was interested, could see it in his eyes, the rigid way he often held himself away from her. The first time she'd scored an invite to a Mikaelson family dinner (courtesy of Hayley of all people) she'd watched, wide eyed, her neck swiveling like a tennis spectator as the siblings had sniped and parried over endless courses of delicious food. Things had begun to get heated when dessert had been served and Freya had hustled the twins and Hope to the kitchen, promising extra ice cream with their cake.
Caroline's brand new dress had gotten bloodied not ninety seconds later when Rebekah had flung a dainty silver fork into Kol's carotid artery. Things had been a blur after that, of china smashing and wood splintering. She'd backed away from the table but Klaus had intercepted her, ushering her down a hallway as the sounds of the chaos in the dining room had grown fainter. He'd produced a handkerchief, leaned in to dab at the blood staining her shoulder. He'd been rueful, intent on his work, "Sorry about them, sweetheart. All that time in coffins left Bekah and Kol a little deaf to social niceties. Or at least that's what they'll claim later as they refuse to assist in cleaning up their destruction."
She'd huffed a laugh, leaned her head back against the wall to give him more room, "Good thing you're probably immune to guilt trips, huh?"
She'd stiffened when she'd felt Klaus answering huff of amusement warm against her skin, had been shocked at just how close he was. Hadn't been surprised by the ring of gold in his eyes when she'd met them with hers, the way he'd let the cloth drop to stroke her collarbone with his thumb.
She'd been so ready for him to make a move but he'd straightened, moved far enough away so that they were no longer touching and seemed to shake himself. "There. The fabric's dark enough that the blood's not noticeable. I'll make sure you get a replacement. Let's check on the little ones, hmm? Make sure Freya's not gone overboard with the sugar."
He'd led her away, his hand resting on her back with the barest pressure. He'd done the same sort of thing a dozen times, backed off whenever a moment got too charged. Often showed up with other people in tow, Hope or one of his siblings, so that things stayed light and friendly. Still, she felt him watching her, contemplative and eager, like he was waiting.
Caroline was a smart girl and it hadn't taken her too long to figure out exactly what he was waiting for. The ball was firmly in her court this time. She'd have to be the one to make the next big move.
She was just trying to find the right moment.
Klaus is waiting for her to reply, his hands held at his sides like he's itching to tear into something. It takes her a second to puzzle out why. "Oh! No, I'm fine." She must have sounded strained when she'd told him to come in. "I got a new student today and he brought something… weird with him."
Klaus posture eases and he smirks, "I should think that would be the norm at this point."
"Usually the weird things aren't alive," Caroline says, nodding down at the box on her desk. Both he and Kol amble over, seemingly curious. "I'm not entirely sure what it is. I'm gonna have to google and figure out what this thing eats. It better not be bugs."
Kol's eyes widen with something like glee taking in the small lizard, "Where did you get this? And how much do you want for it?"
Something aboutthat was a little alarming. "It was a gift," she says slowly. "You're a big lizard fan?"
He snorts incredulously, "That is not just a lizard, darling. That is a dragon. I told you they existed, Nik. I had a lovely Finnish witch friend in the 14th century who convinced me but this one daggered me before I could go investigate." He reaches out to touch the creature, recoils sharply when it sinks its teeth into the pad of his index finger. "Ouch, fuck!" he snaps out, shaking his hand once it's free.
"Mind the carpet," Klaus says mildly, his fingers inching out more cautiously. He waits, his hand hovering over the lizard, sorry dragon, until it seems to get curious, reaching up to tentatively sniff his palm. "You never did learn the value of patience, brother."
Kol shoots him a glare, his lips tipping up in a mocking smirk. "You can keep your patience, Nik. Celibacy is not the life for me." He favors Caroline with a significant look, "This one's been ready and willing for months and you've not even taken a taste. Tsk tsk."
She itches to reach out and smack him but instead just lifts her head, refusing to look away even though she feels herself blushing. "Is that supposed to convince me to give you my dragon?"
His face falls, before he attempts a charming grin, "Now, Caroline. Let's not be hasty. I have plenty of money. Name your price."
"I have plenty of money," Klaus interjects. "Which I generously allow you to use."
Kol's clearly about to protest but Caroline holds up her hand, "It was a gift anyway. Selling it would be tacky."
His expression turns cunning, "Perhaps I could borrow it? Once it's grown, you see. In return I'd be delighted to work some of my contacts, get you all the info on the care and feeding of dragons that your little perfectionist heart could possibly want."
She considers the offer, biting her lip. She could use the help but she's pretty sure a dragon's not something she wants to trust Kol Mikaelson with. She likes New Orleans as it is and it would be a shame if he reduced it to a burned out husk in an attempt to go full Daenerys Targaryen.
Klaus has gathered the dragon into his palm while she and Kol took part in their stare off and it seems perfectly content to burrow into the skin left bare by the v-neck of his Henley, more of those soft little chirps coming from it as it nibbles at one of Klaus' necklaces. "Kol will help in any way you need, love. Without strings."
They share a series of hard looks before Kol seems to cave, throwing up his hands. He grumbles something - Caroline thinks she hears the word whipped - and circles her desk to throw himself into her chair, head bent over his cell phone.
She leans against her desk, watching as Klaus' fingers stroke gently along the tiny dragon's back. "He'll need a name," Klaus notes.
"It's a he?" Caroline asks dubiously. How would one even check that?
"Does the name really need to be gendered?" Klaus asks with a smirk.
Caroline supposed he had a point. Mythical creatures likely had loftier concerns. "I'd never hear the end of it if I didn't let Josie and Lizzie have a say."
He smiles, "I'm sure you're right. Opinionated little things that they are."
Caroline tosses him a glare that lacks heat, "Your child isn't the mellowest either, you know."
Klaus seems unperturbed, "They do come by it honestly."
"What's Hope up to tonight?"
"She'll be tucked into bed soon, I'd imagine. Elijah's favorite symphony is playing in Chicago and he, Hope and Hayley have an early flight tomorrow. Yours are off in the wilderness, correct?"
Caroline shifts her weight, suddenly nervous. Back in Mystic Falls she'd never expected to be casually talking to Klaus about childcare arrangements of all things. But this is her life now, and she loves it. Caroline can't help but think this weekend might be the opportunity she's been waiting for. "Do you want to go out for dinner tomorrow?" she rushes out. "Assuming I can get a dragon sitter."
Klaus smile is warm, his answer simple, "I thought you'd never ask."