Fandom: The Vampire Diaries
Characters/Pairings: Stefan/Caroline, (Background/implied Stefan/Elena, Caroline/Tyler)
Word count: 296
Summary: Written for fluffyfrolicker 's prompt: Stefan/Caroline, i've heard of affairs that are strictly platonic.
Stefan loves Elena. Caroline loves Tyler. They could never betray their significant others. These are truisms their world won’t break. It does not occur to either that this innocent thing could be more. They are just friends.
But sometimes, sometimes when the moon is too low in the sky, and she remembers too much, and is suffocated by this. This whole trying to be a good vampire thing. She leaves to get some air and finds someone who understands, outside on the grass. And his hand slips into her hand, a platonic show of support, nothing more.
They walk through the woods, mouths wide as they laugh loud guffaws.
But their lips don’t touch so what their mouths do is irrelevant.
When the group gathers and time meanders, sometimes (often) they slip out together. Talk on the porch about nothing in particular.
They have their own special places; their own special smiles; their own special faces.
And when one a head rests on a shoulder, warm body curling into another, neither is thinking of sex. It’s a nice break from their vampire libidos, this comforting unstrung closeness. But sometimes she wonders what comes next.
There’s nothing to be guilty about. They’ve done nothing wrong. They don’t want to either.
Sometimes (always) they escape to each other, this easy friendship, this strong creature. After a long day or hard night, some great news or some tiresome fight. They wander around this town.
She has never known the taste of him. But she knows a lot else.
Most of all she knows that with her he’s content. That they steal every spare moment from the sky. Laugh louder and live brighter, slot together into a perfect whole.
But they’ve never touched, so that’s okay.
They’re just friends anyway.
Title: Kaleidoscope Jumbles
Word Count: 137
Summary: Written for xfirefly9x 's Prompt: River, a new pet.
Tip toes. Tip toes.
River doesn’t touch the kitten, knows she doesn’t want to be touched. Not since being shaken up, kaleidoscope jumbles, torn out.
Instead toes around her as she paws about.
She can tell exactly where the kitten’s had bits cut up and switched. Not by her black fur or white patches, neither by her skin or tail or little limbs. It’s far deeper. Cells spliced open, DNA re-sequenced, six strands, inverted, transposed.
Like River herself, torn open, and left.
The kitten has been transmuted.
The young feline lifts her head up, eyes wide. River bends at the waist, stares, analysing her.
She knows better than to move the pieces back into their correct place.
This isn’t like the bible, the kitten isn’t wrong. Just different.
Besides everyone gets upset when she plays with knives.