#klarolinerewind

KLAROLINE REWIND - Day 1

for klarolinerewind, a deckerstar au 

KLAROLINE REWIND

Ever wish you could go back in time and change the past? 

Ever wish Caroline Forbes and Klaus Mikaelson got their happily ever after?

If you answered yes to both, we hear you! 

As we approach the anniversary of that Originals finale (that granted most of us would like to forget) the team wanted to give the fandom an opportunity to rewind time and make some good memories. We’d like to celebrate Klaroline and what could have been; past, present, and future.  

On August 1st and 2nd, give us all your drabbles, gifs, graphics, videos, aesthetics, headcanons, rants and anything else about our favorite couple during the series and beyond. 

Just remember to tag your works #klarolinerewind so we can share them with everyone!

Huge thanks also to the talented @joey-prue for the gorgeous gif she made for this event.

-----------------

Caroline met The Worst Guy Ever about a year ago.

 No, really. The Worst. 

Men are, as a general rule, pigs. If women were to make in-depth pros-versus-cons evaluations of every guy they meet before deciding on whether to hook up with them or not, well. Let's just say the perpetuation of the human species would be seriously endangered. There's only but a handful of guys out there who are really worth any woman's time, and Caroline hasn't had the pleasure of meeting many representatives of that rare, dying breed. They're like real life unicorns. And it doesn't help that Caroline is a walking magnet for dudebros. 

She doesn't know what is it about her that gets them to crawl out of sewers and holes in hell to greet her with their Hey there, gorgeous’ or Have I died and gone to heavens whenever she walks into a bar. It's probably the blonde hair. She's considered going darker a few times, but she's a natural blond, her highlights are incredible and her hair is way too pretty for her to dye it just because guys can't even bother to work on their lame pick-up lines and still expect her to have sex with them. And the sad truth is, if she's really desperate, she will.

 It's exhausting to be a twenty-something single woman in the XXI century. There's the pressure of making it in this godforsaken world as an adult, there's the pressure from society's understanding that a woman of her age should be looking for serious commitment with marriage in sight, and then there's also the pressure that comes from the needs of her very horny human body. It's just too much. She really hopes to come back as a lesbian in her next life. Bisexual at the very least. Everything would be so much easier if she just didn't need men at all, not even for their parts.

 But anyway. The Worst Guy. Yes, Caroline's met her fair share of jerks and idiots, so it takes something really special to leave her aghast. This guy is a king among douchebags. And that's not just her personal opinion; she's shared the story with all her friends and the friends of her friends, and all the women at her work, and even some random people at bars or parties. The collective response to her tale is always a disgusted ugh! followed by What an ass! or Please, tell me you punched that son of a bitch?. If you discount abusive, aggressive and violent men, who are criminals and not in the same category as everyday lame-ass men, he really is The Worst.

 Caroline doesn't like to say she's not over it yet because it implies bestowing a level of importance to the fact that is not merited. The guy was a friend of a friend - her best friend, yes, but still only a notch above a complete stranger. She knew him for three days when the story went down and, technically, they did no more than make out for a little bit, so it's not like they had any kind of relationship going on. He's not important, just a guy who did something astoundingly douchebaggy.

 The whole thing was bound to go down as a funny anecdote to be shared between girls, a Oh, you think you've had the worst hook-up ever? Hold my beer kind of story. Provided, of course, that she never had to see the guy again and could just wipe him out of her memory for good. Considering they live in different time zones, it shouldn't be too difficult.

 Which is exactly why Caroline is livid to come out of the arrivals area at the Richmond airport to find him there, wearing sunglasses indoors, like the proper ass that he is and holding up a sign that says Clarisse and giving her that smug, dimpled smile that got her wanting to suck face with him the first time but now just makes her blood boil.

 She is going to murder Tyler on his wedding week.

 Caroline inhales deeply through her nose, plasters the most sardonic, Miss-Mystic-Falls saccharine smile she can muster on her face and braces herself for confrontation. If she puffs out her chest, throws her hair back to show a little more cleavage and has a bit of Naomi on her gait as she walks over to him, well. Who can blame her, right?

 "Hello, love," he greets her in that insufferable Royal Asshole accent of his. It wouldn't surprise her at all to find out he's not even really British, that the accent is just another item on his long list of douchebaggy features. "Such a pleasure to see you again."

 "That's so sweet of you, Nicholas. Too bad I can't say the same."

 He laughs, the idiot. "I trust you had a pleasant flight."

 "Lovely! Everything was perfect until the moment I walked out and saw you," she says, punctuating her sentence with a grin. "Please tell me Tyler is dead, because that really is the only acceptable excuse for sending you to pick me up."

 "Tyler had some urgent matters that required his attention and apparently thinks I've got nothing more important to do than serve as chauffeur to his ex-girlfriends."

 "And you couldn't be your disappointment-of-a-friend usual self and send someone else instead? An Uber driver would've sufficed."

 "And miss the chance of surprising my lovely old friend Clarisse? Nonsense!" he says, smirking. "Tyler also reminded me that I have certain responsibilities as his best man. I was entirely unaware, but it seems being his personal slave is one of those, who would've known?"

 Tyler is so dead.

 "Aren't you a dear?" Caroline asks around a sigh.

 "I know. Now, have you got everything you need?"

 "If I'll be spending an hour in a car with you, I might need a weapon. Do you think I could buy a gun here somewhere?"

 Klaus chuckles, taking her luggage as he starts walking towards the parking lot. If she didn't know any better, she'd almost believe his gentlemanly act. "I've missed you, Caroline."

 "So you do know my name."

 "It comes and goes," he says flippantly. "How's New York this time of the year?"

 "Humid. How's hell?"

 "Not the same since you left." She can't help the laughter that escapes her. His sense of humor is on point, she'll give him that. "You are sorely missed in New Orleans," he continues.

 "I hardly remember New Orleans." Lie.

 "I'd be more than happy to escort you down memory lane, perhaps tend to certain unfinished business," he offers in a very casual manner, but the wolfish smile on his lips leaves no doubt over his intentions.

 "I believe we made a non-breakable deal about never discussing New Orleans again," Caroline reminds him as they stop by a huge black SUV. "Wow, that's a very big car. Are you trying to compensate for something?"

 His smile widens, showing teeth and those damn dimples again. There should be a law against douchebags coming in such alluring packages. "Would you like to find out?"

 "Sorry, I'm not that desperate yet. I'll let you know if every other human being on the planet dies, though. Then you'll be first and last on my list. Until then, we don't talk about it. In fact - here's a great idea. How about we just don't talk at all?"

 "We made a deal about never telling other people. I don't see what the problem of discussing it is if it's just us girls," he says, loading her luggage into the back of the car.

 "The only thing I can recall from that night is that everything was very basic, very below par, and there was not a lot to be missed there, so I really don't see the point."

 "You wound me, love," he says, a frown showing behind his sunglasses.

A/N: I haven’t touched these guys in a while, so excuse any screw ups. Very AU story, post 5x11 - like, really post - but also I’m basically ignoring everything that happened after 5x11. Such as Caroline’s babies, Stefan, and so on and so forth. 

Enjoy.

.

In Death I See Only You

.

The witch has his heart. She has his heart clenched in her bony fist, and she is unafraid. Her hand has gone through his chest, pushed past his ribcage, and is clutching his bloody, undead heart, and she is smiling. A wicked sort of smile that displays the evil beneath her young face. The evil, she claims, that was placed within her by him.

Klaus’s legs buckle. His face contorts in confusion—how has this girl managed to overpower him?—and he staggers back, bringing the raven-haired witch with him. Her fingers bare down and her nostrils billow out as he opens his mouth, gagging on pain. With a gentle push, the witch has him on his knees before her. Her short stature means she does not have to distort her own body to accommodate this shift. She stands above him now, his head level with her collarbone.

He is entirely at her mercy.

Niklaus Mikaelson, the fiercest, most depraved creature to walk the earth is bowing at the feet of a teenaged witch.

Anger writhes away inside of the Original vampire. This is impossible. This is not right. He is more than a millennium old. He has fought demons about which this girl has only read. He has laughed in Death’s face. He has survived so much. What power has this girl been granted? What gives her the strength, the right, to look down upon him?

“Do you know why I’m here?” the girl asks. He doesn’t answer right away. He doesn’t want to. But she won’t let him go silently. She places a gentle pressure on his cold, dead heart, her lips quivering with the power coursing through her, and says again, “Do you know why I’m here?”

Klaus stares at the dirt by the witch’s feet. “Yes,” he growls.

“Look at me when you speak!” she demands, squeezing hard. His heart feels as if it will burst. Yelping like the dog he is, Klaus’s head snaps up. He glares at the girl, his breathing staggered. Blood pours out of his mouth. Runs down his chin. His canines drop and dig into his bottom lip. Her mouth twitches in satisfaction. “You remember me, then,” she says.

“Yes,” Klaus says, spraying red.

“Good. Now the real fun can begin.”

For Klaroline Rewind (I know I’m SO late but I had this half done so just had to finish it). What if the journey we saw on TV was all a dream? A hallucination caused by Silas’ spell? Picks up from TVD episode 4x18 - American Gothic. Lyrics and title by Crowded House.

Don’t Dream It’s Over

When the world comes in, they come to build a wall between us....

Klaus awoke with a start, his eyes slowly fluttering open. The light invading his vision as he struggled to gain his bearings. His mouth was dry and he could feel the residual sweat falling in droplets across his bare chest.

The room seemed familiar but why the worried but familiar blonde was standing over his body, Klaus had no idea. She looked beautiful as ever in teal even if she seemed to be worried but when he stirred her expression changed dramatically from anxious to exasperated.

“Took your damn time, Mikaelson,” she hissed in his general direction but refused to make eye contact.

“Well, hello to you too, love,” he attempted a joke even though his throat was raspy and as he tried to move realised just how much his joints ached. Klaus may have been a thousand years old but today he felt so much older.

“Don’t hello me,” she shot back. Klaus watched on curiously as she began to pace, her blonde waves swaying with every step.

“Would it be too much to ask for a shirt?” What he wasn’t expecting was for one of his henleys to hit him squarely on the chest.

“For the record, your shirt was missing when I got here.” Klaus was struggling to withhold a smirk. Sure it was missing. “Don’t even think about it, Mikaelson.” It was like she could read his mind and the telling blush on her creamy cheeks was enough to confirm his suspicions.

“So, why are you here?”

“You called me and I arrived fifty bajillion messages later. And then you were all grouchy and then just passed out for like 5 hours, all moaning and sweaty. I totally didn't just watch you the whole time, I stayed to make sure you didn't die, no other reason of course.”

“Of course,” he reiterated, trying not to get too excited by her flustered reaction.

Klaus busied himself with putting on the grey henley she’d offered, starting to feel somewhat comfortable until he remembered it. 

All of it. 

It was like multiple memories came flooding back hitting him squarely in the chest.

It wasn’t pretty, in fact, it was excruciatingly painful.

He’d fled to New Orleans, Caroline all but a memory albeit their brief goodbye at graduation, as he left to face his enemies in New Orleans. Then:

Fatherhood.

Betrayal.

Loss.

Death.

It was overwhelming, to say the least, and just when he thought he’d died alongside his brother she’d awoken him from the terrifying nightmare.

“Is Elijah okay?” He asked hurriedly, his eyes frantically meeting hers.

“Well so far, but I did receive some disturbing news via text that he had his tongue down Katherine slash Elena’s throat in some small, mid-western town.”

Klaus was immediately confused but the fact his brother was well and truly alive (as much as a vampire could be) was enough to stop him complaining about their unorthodox pairing and possible threesome.

For now.

“Now I’m glad not to have eaten in a while.”

“Your brother is pining over Katherine and I’m sure she’s trying to steal the cure so she can kill you.”

He’d certainly died in his visions but it didn’t go down that way so Klaus wasn’t too worried.

Yet.

But he had every intention of not letting any of it happen because he knew just what he wanted, where he wanted to be and who he wanted to be with. If anything his love for her had only intensified by that episode he’d foreseen in the woods.

But Klaus had every intention of keeping that one to himself.

For now.

“So, prom is next week, excited? Have you secured a gown yet, love?”

“Who are you and what have you done with the evil, neighbourhood hybrid whose favourite pastimes include mass murder and causing general havoc?”

“Believe it or not I care about you,” he offered, hoping she didn’t think he was as crazy as he sounded.

“Oh really?”

“Yes, and you better watch your emotionless and thieving friend Elena because she will steal your prom dress and then you’ll need to come grovelling to me for a replacement. But just so you know mine is a much better option given its regal and historical significance, very Princess Grace of Monaco.”

“Did you hit your head when you fell or is this just normal behaviour?”

“If you want to risk looking average at prom that’s your choice.” She faltered and Klaus knew then he’d made his point.

“I need to get back to prom committee, you know the one you so rudely interrupted.”

“By all means, love,” he smirked. “Don’t let me keep you from such important endeavours.” She flicked her hair, sent him an exaggerated but adorable eye roll then departed.

For now.  

...we know they won't win.

♾ Rome ♾

I've never really been anywhere.

    ~ Caroline

I'll take you, wherever you want. Rome. Paris. Tokyo?

    ~ Klaus

@klarolineinfinity

Snippet: 

Caroline never thought she would find herself in this situation. She had moved on with her life…she found herself a calling. She had goals she wanted to reach. She was older now.

The night was an especially cold tonight—though she couldn’t actually be affected by it. London weather in the New Year was horrible, despite being cold to the touch, now she has to feel like a dead body—literally. The snow stuck to her exposed skin like glue. Her breathing was slightly erratic and she could see her breath come out frosty. All she had for warmth was a little camp fire in the woods where she and Bonnie were. Though the wind was harsh and cruel to them, maybe Bonnie had done something to the fire to prevent it from blowing out…as well as the candles she had with her.

As she stood to the side, out of Bonnie’s way and trying to stay patient and calm of all things, she tried to focus her mind of the things her friend was doing rather than letting her mind wander on him yet again…it was bad enough she asked her friend to do such a thing.

She was going to bring him back.

Caroline was in England. She had been living there for about 5 years, establishing enough wealth to build another school in London. As much as she was pleased with her work in Mystic Falls with the Salvatore boarding school, she wanted to reach as much young and inexperienced supernatural’s as she possibly could. All the while, trying not to make Mystic Falls a beacon for supernatural inexperienced children to raise an unwanted awareness to the town…Mystic Falls has suffered enough…

However her time spent in London forced her to remember him. She blames the accent of the locals.

Her last memories of him, their shared moments where they would come close to a kiss…

“He still clouds your judgment”