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fictionadventurer · 1 year ago

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What was the point of Scrooge's trip with the Ghost of Christmas Yet to Come? On a structural level, it makes sense--three is the fairy tale number, and you can't visit the past and present without also including the future--but on a character level, it doesn't quite seem necessary. Showing a man that he'll die alone, unloved, and unmourned seems like the strategy you take as the last-ditch effort to convince a guy that he needs to change his ways. But that situation doesn't apply to Scrooge. He started softening immediately after he first arrived in his past. By the time he finished with the Ghost of Christmas Present, he was fully onboard with the need to reform, so the Ghost's vision of his future seems like unnecessary cruelty. Why show him all this when he was already planning to change his ways?

A few things come to mind. One is that this vision of the future wouldn't have affected Scrooge unless he had already changed his ways. A cold, hard businessman could have seen his lonely death as just the way of the world, might have viewed the people who stole the clothes from his corpse as just people doing what's practical in this world. He needed to relearn the value of the intangibles--human connection, respect for others--to see the true horror of the lonely death and the vultures who defiled the dead man.

But why the horror? Can't he reform without being threatened with doom? It's possible--but it's also possible such a reform would be temporary. After all, Scrooge started as a friendly, loving young man, but retreated into himself and his business out of fear of poverty and fear of the way the world looks down upon poor people. Even if a reformed Scrooge started on a course of Christmas charity, there was always a chance that the enthusiasm would fade, and the worldly fears would start creeping back in. The only way to beat those fears is to give him something to fear that's even worse than poverty. He needs to see the horrible end that his selfish ways would lead to, so he won't be tempted to slide back into them.

There's also the fact that seeing his death makes him ecstatically happy to find that he's alive after the Ghost is gone. Had Scrooge been spared the vision of his future, he might have been happy to find himself on Christmas Day, but his joy would have been nowhere near the manic glee he experiences after coming back from the future. Now, he doesn't just get a new start--he gets a second chance. Coming back from his own grave makes him mindful of his death, but it also makes him hyperaware of the fact that he's still alive. He isn't in the ground yet. He still has time to do good and make connections with others so he doesn't die alone.

Seeing the past reminded him of the innocence he'd lost. Seeing the present reminded him of the people whose lives he was missing out on. Seeing the future reminded him that death is waiting, so it's important to live virtuously while we can. All three are important because all three brought him outside of himself and taught him to value the wider world, just in time to live through another Christmas Day.

#a christmas carol #charles dickens #once again i've ponderously worked my way to the explicitly stated moral of the story #but i had to work my way there because stave 4 left me unsettled #had i been scrooge that trip probably would have squashed any desire i had to reform #the ghost *doesn't say* whether or not the future can be changed #what if this is just proof he's doomed no matter what so why bother changing?#fortunately scrooge was much better than i was about logic #namely: no reason to show him this future if it *can't* be changed #the point of these ghosts is to save him from marley's fate #plus we did have the ghost of christmas present's implications that future shadows can be changed #it's kind of interesting when you step back from familiar stories that just go this way because it's how they're supposed to go #and really dig into 'wait a minute. why did it go like this?'#it usually winds up with me figuring out that the writer knew what they were doing #but it's also nice to see the scaffolding that got us to the story

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averseunhinged · 1 month ago

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hi <3

First of all, I love your writing, especially after i read your most recent kc drabble!

i don't know if the prompt post is still ongoing, but if so, may I ask for a drabble where Klaus is constantly seeking physical touch from Caroline? your choice if it's fluff or spicy (or both 👀). Sorry if it's too dull for a prompt :((

have a good day <3

hi, friend! i don't know if this is exactly what you had in mind, but hopefully it'll work for you.

previous prompt is on ao3 here. i think i'm just going to put them all in this series, if you'd rather wait and read possibly more polished versions there.

content warnings: this is very light and fluffy (i think???), but there is mention of most of the things that happened to caroline in canon. parent death. damon. torture. stefan/caroline. tyler/caroline. random humans/caroline. canon typical violence. no magic babies. an extremely loose adherence to canon.

It had been a very long night.

Was there such a thing as too much fun? Caroline probably deserved it, after the years of stress, fear, and grief, but it did feel overly indulgent at times. She’d probably have to reorganize their suitcases tomorrow to make up for it. Now, though, she was pleasantly exhausted, sunk deep into the sort of sleep she hadn’t known existed prior to the past decade. Her dreaming was hazy and indistinct. Vague feelings of comfort and warmth, slight movement in a secure hold. Like dozing in a hammock on a summer day, when everything smelled lazy and good and nearby sounds blended into a relaxing, repetitive drone.

Until she exploded into wakefulness to sudden, ear-blistering noise and commotion. She shrieked and tried to jolt upright, but the arm around her was tight almost to the point of pain. The previously steady thud of Klaus’ heart was a startled cacophony under her cheek, and he was snarling incomprehensibly in a language she didn’t recognize. Death threats, probably. That was his death threat tone. The same language as the noise, she realized.

GAGNAM STYLE! the noise belted, backed by a thumping beat and tinny, wailing synths.

“Phone?” she whimpered. “What—why?”

"Kol," Klaus hissed and let her go.

Caroline struggled free of the blankets and Klaus's octopus limbs tangled around her and wriggled over to the bedside table where her phone was charging. She clumsily dragged it onto the bed and, after three or four swipes, managed to make it stop.

She collapsed onto her stomach in relief at the silence in the bedroom. Klaus had rolled over onto his stomach and pulled a pillow over his head during her journey to the bedside table. Back in Mystic Falls, it had seemed like he never slept. Always awake, fully clothed and scheming, no matter the day, time, or place. He could be a true hedonist, though, when he wasn’t fighting a war on all fronts. In the years they had been together, she’d discovered he slept often and well, fond of catnaps and long sleeps on comfortable mattresses with soft, luxurious bedding and her body touching his as much as possible. He was difficult to wake. She’d had full conversations with him in bed in the morning, only to realize later on that he’d still been asleep, despite his lucid responses, and didn’t remember any of it. And he was a nightmare when he was suddenly, rudely awoken. It had worked to their advantage a few times. Klaus maimed first, asked questions later when there was an unexpected intrusion into their bedroom. Once, a coven had managed to cloak themselves well enough that he hadn’t been aware of their presence until they were already inside. It had not ended well for the would-be assassins. Or for the very nice hotel suite. The last time, Kol had been staked with a poster off an antique bed, rather than enacting whatever mischief he’d been planning.

"Caroline?" Stefan’s voice intruded from her phone.

She made a disgruntled noise into the mattress.

"Did I wake you? It's 9:30 on Naxos." Stefan was way too alert and amused. "You're usually up and attacking the day by now."

"Berlin," she answered, not entirely coherent yet. "Kol."

Once or twice a year, Elijah decided it was Klaus and Caroline's turn to wrangle Kol, or extract him from whatever trouble he'd decided was his right to get into, by virtue of having been trapped in perpetual boredom on the Other Side for nearly a year.

Stefan made an understanding noise, given that he had (and often was) a difficult brother. “Do you need help with clean-up?"

She sighed. Obviously, he wasn't willing to take pity on her and call back later. The blankets rustled with the shifting mattress, and Caroline wasn't surprised when she felt Klaus' foot on the side of her calf. He had long, freakily prehensile toes that wiggled down her leg and flexed around her Achilles tendon.

“Nah. S’more of a social visit. There was,” she yawned while speaking, “a beer thing at a place, and then a party with some super old friend of Kol's, and then an after-party, and a nightcap.”

“And then our own party,” Klaus murmured.

She kicked at him half-heartedly. His other foot joined the first, capturing her leg and tangling it in his own. She smiled, keeping it hidden from him.

“I'm glad you're having fun,” Stefan said dryly. That was the annoyingly sweet thing about him. He did things like offer to help with her Mikaelson problems and put up with them during the occasional holiday or trip. She didn't think she'd broken his heart, but she'd bruised it nearly as much as he had hers, when he'd abandoned her for a new life. And yet, he really was happy she was happy.

“So,” she said leadingly, “what's up?”

The blankets rustled again. Klaus’s fingertips brushed down her spine. Her skin shivered as goosebumps raised in their wake. It was a blessing and a curse to be so sensitive to his touch. He could make her feel incredible, but sometimes it felt like addiction. She’d had it often, always, for years, and going without made her a little bit melancholy. Maybe they’d spend more time apart in a few decades, but the vampire-hybrid honeymoon phase seemed to stretch on a lot longer than it did for humans.

It had been surprising at first, how much he touched her. In Mystic Falls, he'd barely touched anyone, unless he was threatening them or committing an act of unspeakable violence. He'd been more respectful of her personal space than almost anyone she'd ever known, aside from the impaling and biting. She'd thought it was just the way his family was. Rebekah was similar, and Elijah behaved as though the people around him were sticky, and he didn't want to get it on his suits. However, he was willing to hug her in greeting and parting these days, and even instigated it himself after a few (several…many) drinks. Rebekah was a lot freer with it, too, now that she had known Caroline longer. She'd been dragged around Milan by the hand, steered around parties with linked arms, and had gossip whispered closely into her ear. Kol had no decorum whatsoever. He did whatever he felt in the moment. Threw his arms over his siblings’ shoulders. Picked Caroline up and spun her around because he was having fun and in a good mood. The flipside of that was impulsive mayhem and destruction. He'd kill strangers, because he was upset. Attack his siblings when they hurt his feelings. Tried to maim Jeremy, because he was afraid, and no one was listening to him. He was the most honest member of the family in that way, but it made him the most dangerous, too.

Klaus had started small, hesitantly. An arm to steady her when she wore heels. A hand on her lower back when she was in flats. The more she responded and reciprocated, the freer he became. He liked having her in his lap, or leaning against his side, or with her toes tucked under his thigh while he was sketching or reading. When one passed by the other, he’d stroke her shoulder or pet her hip, would try to hide his smile when she tangled their fingers together for a moment. He kissed her forehead and her cheeks. Kept her in bed with slow, sleepy lips, long after she should have been up. And his libido was insatiable. She’d had to institute a solo shower rule, or she’d never wash her hair before the hot water ran out, and he still broke it half the time. Not that she was complaining. Much.

“Are you planning on going back to Naxos after Berlin?” Stefan sounded hesitant and worried.

Caroline frowned. “Are you okay? Do you need a sober buddy? I can be there in a few days if the weather’s clear enough.”

Stefan had been living on Svalbard for a couple of years. There was a small community of vampires who took advantage of Polar night every year, like reverse snowbirds, and practiced extreme moderation in deference to the limited human and wildlife populations. He had found a lot of support through them and hadn’t needed her as a sponsor as much as he used to.

Klaus stretched his arm across her back and palmed her side, stroking over her ribs.

“No, nothing like that.” Stefan paused. She listened to him breathing for a long moment. “Valerie’s been staying with me for a couple of months.”

“Please tell me she tried something with Hedda.” Hedda was 6’2” and old enough that she could work as a deckhand on a research vessel without massacring the entire boat after weeks at sea. She would turn Valerie into a very fine paste if she didn't behave. “I'd pay to see that.”

Stefan laughed quietly. “I did warn Valerie about the way things work before she made the trip out. And she…she's better now that she's been free for a while.”

Caroline rolled onto her side and braced herself up on her elbow, staring at her phone in disbelief. “That's your softening the blow voice. Please tell me you haven't gone back to another one of your obsessed ex-girlfriends.”

The silence on the other end of the line was answer enough. It had to be some kind of doppelganger curse in effect. She refused to believe it was coincidence that so many people completely lost their minds over him. Stefan tried to be a decent person. He was handsome and could be fun when he wasn’t angsting so hard, but his effect on people was just plain strange. She counted herself lucky that she hadn’t ended up wasting her undead life waiting around for him, too. After Tyler, she knew better.

Klaus took the opportunity to hook his arm more securely around her waist. She meeped when he dragged her backwards into his chest, but settled down as he re-arranged her until she could rest her head on his arm without asphyxiating on her own hair.

“I know it doesn’t make sense,” Stefan admitted. There was the sound of water and rattling plastic, and then a coffee maker gurgling to life. “I think I just have to see it through. It feels like there’s something between us that was taken away before it was finished.”

“Stefan,” she moaned unhappily. “Fine. Fine! That’s fine. I’m happy for you.”

“Great!” he said, suddenly suspiciously upbeat. “We’re taking a trip to Sintra next month. You can get to know her better then.”

“I’ll have to check my schedule,” Caroline replied flatly.

“Damon said you’re free until the Christmas markets in Prague.”

“Remind me to thank Damon for throwing me under the bus,” she muttered back to Klaus. “I’m spiking his mulled wine with vervain.”

Glass clinked on the other end of the line as Stefan poured himself a cup of coffee. “Bring Klaus if you’re worried she’ll do something, but she promised to try getting to know you instead of making assumptions.”

“Oh much better! I definitely want to go on a couples vacation with my sort-of ex, the vampwitch who gave me sizzle skin for no reason, and a hybrid who gets bitey if you make him cranky enough.”

“I'm your actual ex, Care,” Stefan said, sounding kind of annoyed about it.

They had vastly differing opinions on the legitimacy of their short-lived romantic relationship. Caroline could admit it had a lot to do with her residual discomfort over the no humanity sex with Ripper Stefan. It wasn’t that it hadn't been good. On her personal, post-human scale, it ranked above the humans she'd been with and Tyler, but below Klaus, who was a thousand-year-old, obnoxiously talented horndog. He knew how to do everything. That first time in the woods had been exciting and very intense, but she'd had no idea what she was missing out on when she’d made him walk away again.

No, the problem with sleeping with Stefan was that turning on her humanity made the memory feel like virtual reality porn. Like she'd been there, but not really.

Klaus tilted his head, tucking his nose behind her ear, and smiled against the sensitive skin of her neck. She rolled her eyes. He did like Stefan, as much as Klaus let himself like anyone, herself and most of his siblings excluded. He liked winning more, though, and really liked that it was him she had sought out in the aftermath of her time as a creatively evil party girl.

“We're trying to make this work.” Stefan was so quiet at the other end of the call when he confessed, “I want it to, but it’ll be a lot harder if no one else wants her around.”

It was close enough to what she’d said to him years before, when she'd asked him to try to get along with Klaus.

“How did we all end up dating people the rest of us hate?” Caroline wondered.

Stefan hated Enzo for killing Ivy, even though Ivy liked being a vampire and her revenge plots had started taking place on weekends and involved brunch reservations at restaurants he didn't like. Enzo hated Stefan for a variety of Damon-related reasons, and for being a coward who made Caroline cry, even though Enzo kidnapped her for Stefan’s mom's creepy cult, and in Caroline's opinion, the two offenses canceled each other out. Elena hated everyone's significant other, mostly for understandable reasons, but also because she reacted badly to feeling like the people she loved were being taken away.

Of course no one wanted to be civil to Klaus, who could only spend so long in her friends’ company before he started daydreaming about which organs he’d like to remove from whom. Caroline and Damon would never be close. Her mom's death softened her on him a teensy bit. Plus, he was mercenary enough to recognize the benefits of being cool about her relationship with Klaus. But buried deep inside her was human Caroline, who would always hate the man who hurt her so much, and Damon didn't like being reminded of his guilt.

She and Enzo bounced between being thick as thieves and suffering from eruptions of confusing resentment towards each other. Caroline was happy Tyler got to live out the whole American Dream thing, but none of it interested her much anymore. She sent presents to the kids on birthdays and holidays, like she did for Matt’s family, but thought Liv was boring and overly judgmental for someone who came from the magical version of the Hårga. Liv thought Caroline was a manipulative psychopath for killing Luke, just to make Liv put her back into the damn job at hand.

So, okay. Fair enough. Caroline wasn't truly the girl she'd tried to be. She'd accepted that when she'd called Klaus from the Gold Coast, grief still aching like an overused muscle, but giddy with the freedom of her time spent alone, as far from home as she could catapult herself. It wasn't the way he'd once foretold, but the door thing hadn’t been literal, according to him. Pretentious ass.

And now Caroline was going to have to put up with the kind of lunatic who threw curses around, because her ex-boyfriend from a hundred and fifty years earlier had half a feeling for someone else.

Stefan had terrible taste in women.

(Yes, she included herself.)

“That's family for you,” he said.

Caroline made a closed-mouthed, disgruntled noise. “Fine. Fine! I’ll give her one chance.”

“And?” he continued hopefully.

“And I’ll try to like her, instead of pretending to be nice while thinking mean thoughts about her outfits, but if she tries anything--”

“I’ll eat her,” Klaus finished for Caroline.

“All I can ask for,” Stefan conceded, sounding pleased enough with the conclusion. “I’ll email the details, and you can tell me everything you’re changing.”

“Later on!” she laughed. “I’ve only had three hours of sleep.”

“Thanks, Care. I know that wasn’t an easy time for you, and Valerie made it worse.”

The Heretic cult had been the last straw for Caroline. She’d tried to stay, but there had been reminders of her parents everywhere she turned. She couldn’t stand being around Alaric--alive, happily engaged again, and about to become a father—without remembering that he was the reason her own father was dead. She couldn’t be around Damon without remembering how much he’d loved her mom, even though he was the worst person she knew. Then she was tortured again, and all she’d wanted was a hug from her friends, but she couldn’t even have that. Her distaste for Valerie wasn't petty. Those events, the sense of betrayal and isolation, had stuck with her.

Maybe she would always remember it, but if there was one thing Caroline knew she was good at, it was putting hurt behind her.

“You're welcome. Now, go away for, like, eight hours.”

He was laughing when she hung up on him.

“Couples trip?” Klaus rumbled in her ear, his voice still morning raspy.

“You like Portugal!” she tried. “Isn't Sintra the place with all the old stuff? You'll fit right in.”

He nipped her neck with blunt teeth in punishment, right on the tickly spot that always made her squeal.

“You can use your best ancient history anecdotes,” she squeaked breathlessly. “The artists you influenced. Parties with royalty. Seducing some queen who died an eon ago. That wheel you totally invented.”

He flipped her onto her back and pinned her down with his bodyweight, one thigh pressed between hers.

“I am not that old,” he declared imperiously and kissed her until she couldn’t think of teasing him anymore.

She was right, though. It turned out he did have a lot of great stories about Sintra.

#fic #klaroline #prompts #sorry these are taking a minute #i've been unwell for a couple of months #it's been cutting into my evening writing time #plus everything is always longer than i mean it to be #i have three more on deck that are almost done tho

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