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writemoment · 4 years

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Sort Things Out

Writer: Ellie-Mae (Pen Name)

Part: 1/1

Summary: Y/n's nervous about transferring to Hogwarts from Ilvermorny. What house will she be sorted into and will she make any friends? Soon she meets the Baudelaire siblings and things begin to sort themselves out.

Pairing: Ravenclaw Klaus Baudelaire x Ravenclaw!Reader

Warnings/Rated: WWoHP x ASOUE crossover, fluff and a little bit of anxiety. Overall wholesome fluff

Word Count: 3,128

A/N: Ah, It’s been such a long time!! Glad to be back and having internet! This is something I worked on eight (plus) months ago. Hope you enjoy! - Ellie-Mae

( Reader ) P.O.V.

Everything is so different.

Back at Ilvermorny, I at least knew people to help me settle my nerves. Now I'm on my own, searching the compartments on the Hogwarts Express for a spot to settle. It would be different if it were my first year, but it's my fourth. Not only that but I didn't even live on this continent until two months ago. I had been so upset at the prospect of halting my magical studies because of a big move. Then my professor mentioned Hogwarts and helped me transfer over. Though I know it's irrational, I'm still so shaken by the new experience of it all.

Finally finding an empty car, I sink down into the plush cushions with a sigh of relief. My nerves are still boiling beneath the surface, worries persistent. I push it to the back of my mind as I rummage through my book-bag to pull out the history of Hogwarts and read.

I must have gotten sucked into the material because I almost jump out of my skin when the door slides open. Clutching the hardback to my chest, as if that would protect my beating heart, I must look frantic and wide eyed.

"Sorry to startle you," the girl apologizes. Her hair is long and brown. I notice her locks are pushed back with a red and gold headband. Standing behind her is a boy with wire-rim glasses. His expression is of a curious gaze that I don't quite understand. I also spot his blue and silver tie, stripped in the same way as the girl's head accessory.

Shaking my head, I attempt to speak without stumbling. "No- don't be sorry! I just...wasn't paying attention." They both shuffle to the seats across from me after closing the door.

"I'm Violet Baudelaire," the girl introduces, "and this is my brother Klaus." The boy smiles at me shyly and I catch myself mirroring his actions. After introducing myself, Violet asks, "I haven't seen you around before. What house do you belong to?"

"I'm not sorted into a house at Hogwarts yet. I just moved here from America. Back at Ilvermorny I was a Pukwudgie, but I'm sure that doesn't mean anything here." I explain with a gentle, awkward smile. "What houses do you reside in?"

"violet is a Gryffindor and I'm a Ravenclaw," Klaus tells me, speaking up for the first time. "I've heard of Pukwudgies in my studies of magical creatures," he says with fascination. "They're said to be fiercely independent."

Nodding, I say, "That they are. The house best represents the hearts of wizards and witches. It also favors a lot of wonderful healers." The Baudelaire's seem intrigued by this. "What do your houses represent at Hogwarts?"

Klaus explains that Ravenclaw are eager to learn and expand their wisdom. Violet tells of daring, brave witches and wizards from Gryffindor filled with chivalry and bravery alike. There's also the loyal and kind Hufflepuff. "The last is Slytherin, the cunning lads they are." Klaus finishes.

The three of us speak and share a few laughs on our journey to the school. However, the closer we were to arriving, the quieter I became. "It's okay to be anxious, Y/n. You're going to fit in just fine, I can tell."

"I know you're right, Violet. I keep trying to remind myself that worrying means you suffer twice. It's always been a comforting thought." I tell them, inhaling deeply.

"Wise words from professor Scamander," Klaus says with admiration in his tone. It brings a smile to my face with an ease I was grateful for. "Besides, you've successfully made friends with us and we will help you through this."

There kindness relieves some of the pressure that has built up inside my stomach. As we pull up to the platform outside of Hogwarts, I say goodbye to my new friends as I join the first years- like instructed. I'm tall over their heads, which makes me stick out like sore thumb. There's a throb in my shoulder from a dull ache caused by being so tense. My lips are pulled taut as I force a smile at the younger curious eyes that linger on me.

Suddenly, a large man appears and gestures us to follow him on his way toward the castle. He says his name is Rubius Hagrid. His dark brown eyes peek at me through thick brows and he smiles kindly. With all first years gaze now focused on him, I no longer feel so different or alone.

The school grounds are extraordinary and it's difficult to take it all in. Finally, we are lead to the great hall where we patiently wait for Professor McGonagall to explain what's to come next. After the houses are explained, we crowed together as we await our names to be called from a long scroll of parchment.

One by one, all the first years get the sorting hat placed atop their heads before joining their proper tables. Then, last but not least, my turn arrives.

"We have a rarity with us tonight. A fourth year witch from America will now be sorted into her Hogwarts house." McGonagall's voice roams across the great hall, effectively silencing the whispers.

The professor steps forward, placing the old tattered hat upon my head. The sorting hat speaks through my different qualities, a simple voice in my head, as my eyes scan the tables of students. All eyes are watching me with anticipation...

Ah, you're a courageous one I see. Very good at standing up for what you believe to be right. You're also intelligent, very knowledgeable. Though, you do have a streak for mischief and adventure. Loyalty is a virtue that you seek in all you meet, indeed.

My eyes land on Klaus sitting in the middle-right of the Ravenclaw table. He watches me with bright eyes and a corner of his mouth is pulled in between his teeth as if he were nervous.

What a gift it is to find and observe. I know just where to put you....

"RAVENCLAW!"

Cheers erupt from the table as I make my way over. I sit a little ways away from Klaus as I'm greeted with smiles and congratulations. I look up at him and grin excitedly. I'm relieved to see him doing the same. This- yes, this is my new home.

*****

I didn't get much time to speak with Klaus after dinner. Violet came over to give me an excited squeeze before rushing away with her friends on their way to the Gryffindor common room. Then the prefect led the new students, which included me, to the astronomy tower. That's where the Ravenclaw common room resided.

After the anxious excitement of the day, I was more than happy to climb underneath the comforter and melt into the mattress. My eyes wandered over to my new school robes and blue/silver striped scarf at the end of my bed. I felt warm and content as I drifted to sleep.

The morning leaked through the windows as I dressed for the day. My clothes are accented with my house colors and my robes adorned with the Ravenclaw crest- matching the rest of my housemates. Some of the other students were already out of bed and roaming the common room while interacting with the other mates. With a final glance at my appearance, I descended the stairs.

The room is bursting with excited chatter and bustling students getting ready for the first day of classes. I scan the area and find Klaus entering from the boys staircase. "Good morning, Klaus!" I greet with enthusiasm.

"Morning, Y/n! How are you?" He asks, glancing at my new robes.

I tell him I'm doing just fine before launching into a discussion about classes. He tells me about the ones we share and says I even have a few in common with Violet. My excitement is basically bursting out of me at this point. How could it not be? Even as the day progresses and I make acquaintances with my fellow classmates, I remain with the Baudelaires. Though, in the end, Klaus and I spend the most time together.

I can't say for sure what it is but the interaction between us has become comfortable, although at times shy. It differs from our first encounter and I'm not quite certain as to why. The very idea of it makes my pulse race and my mind tick with curiosity. By the second week, I seem to catch myself seeking him out and finding relief at his witty smirks. As much as I adore my studies, I spend my free time letting Violet and Klaus entertain my interest with more knowledge about their lives. I especially love stories of their youngest sister, Sunny.

"I can tell she would like you, Y/n. As would our parents." Violet says with certainty. It fills my chest with an unexpected warmth, sending a toothy grin to stretch my cheeks. I was never really close to many, if anyone, at Ilvermorny. I never expected to feel such emotions or experience these things when coming to Hogwarts...

I glance up at Klaus and catch his gaze already trained on me. A light pink highlights his cheeks as he quickly adverts his eyes. All of this combined sends flutters through my abdomen and tingles across my skin. My involuntary reaction leaves my hands clammy and my mind racing.

Trust me, I've liked guys before but it was always a one-sided infatuation. An unrequited interest. I'm not sure how one would go about sharing that adoration, nevertheless if Klaus' behavior should be perceived as such. But if I can be certain of one thing it's that feelings change. They're unreliable and that, to be painfully honest, scares the life out of me.

I'm knocked back to reality as Hagrid approaches us with a greeting,"Hello there- Violet, Y/n and Klaus. What is it you're up to?" He towers over us and I've come to really adore the gatekeeper over the past weeks.

"Hello, Hagrid. We're just sharing memories and stories. And yourself?" I say, welcoming the interruption. Hopefully my thoughts don't leak out of me and plaster themselves across my face, tone or body language.

Hagrid bursts with a throaty chuckle, shrugging. "I was doing an errand for McGonagall when I spotted you lot. You all remind me of a group of three that used to roam these halls...Done a lot of good, they have."

His words have the feeling of dozens of memories flooding through them. Despite any explanation, I felt proud to be in the resemblance. By the way Violet straightens her back and Klaus pushes his glasses up the bridge of his nose, I can tell I'm not the only one.

"Say... I have some business to attend to in Diagon Alley this weekend, if you all would like to accompany me." Hagrid offers, seeming pleased with his idea.

Klaus and I accept but Violet declines. "I made other plans but you go enjoy yourselves." She says with a smile and a sly wink at her brother. I roll my eyes with a smirk before looking away, but not before I see a crimson blush dust Klaus' face. He's ridiculously cute when he's flustered. It's so different from his poised and logical side.

"Very well. I'll see you both at the front gates tomorrow." With our plans set and ready, Hagrid hurries away to finish his tasks. Left behind is our small gang of two flushed faces and a knowing look.

***

My fingers rake through the front of my hair, parting the strands to rest more on one side. The early rays of sun reflect off the mirror and illuminates my face, causing the corners of my eyes to wrinkle. Am I overthinking? I don't want to look like a fool. Maybe I'm trying too hard...

Shaking my head, I attempt to silence my sporadic thoughts. The Baudelaires have yet to see me in any casual clothing since we spend our days in uniforms. I want to be comfortable while looking nice. My pointless worries seem endless.

Finally deciding to just go with it, I make my way to the common room. Standing in the almost-vacant room is Klaus with a collared sweater and dark jeans. He must hear me approaching because his eyes snap to me before widening.

Klaus stands there for a moment, looking me over. His gaze leave goosebumps rising on my flesh and I shift at the sensation. I'm suddenly so very nervous and feeling self-conscious. "How do I look?" I ask, breaking the silence and his trance.

His mouth falls open and closed, struggling to find words. I've never seen him at a loss for conversation. "Different. Which is good. Not that you didn't look good before- I mean, you do! You did..." As his voice trails off and he nervously fidgets, I smile at him kindly.

"Thank you, Klaus."

Together we walk to meet Hagrid with an almost palpable nervousness between us. My feelings are pounding in my ears and I faintly recall trading a greeting with Hagrid before we're on our way to London. Once we arrive, things become a bit more relaxed as we wonder around with the gatekeeper. He and Klaus even begin an in-depth conversation on the studies of magical creatures. I watch the enthusiasm take over Klaus, animating his entire being. It makes me appreciate the raw form of him and I adore that.

Eventually, Hagrid has some strict Hogwarts matters to attend to and leaves after agreeing to meet up in a few hours. I smile at Klaus and he returns the gesture. "Do you want to, perhaps, grab some butterbeer?" Klaus asks.

Nodding in agreement, we weave our way through the crowds. However, the alley is thick with bodies rushing past and I lose my companion. "Klaus?" I call but I can't hear over the busy mixed with chatter. Panic starts to set in as I blindly push through with my arms out in front of me.

I don't know this area. I don't even know how to go about getting back to the castle if I were to lose them! Bodies slip past my fingers and I begin to feel sick. That's when I feel the warmth of another’s hand encasing mine. My instinct is to pull away but the grip is firm. Looking up, I see the familiar glasses protruding behind equally familiar ears. I tighten my fingers as I hold onto Klaus. He pulls me through and into the Leaky Cauldron.

The establishment isn't too crowded, which I'm immediately thankful for. Klaus is standing in front of me, hand still in my own and the other placed where my neck meets my shoulder. "Are you okay? Are you hurt?" His voice is slightly high as I can hear the worry drenching every word. Seeing him here, in front of me, brings a wave of relief and I feel the emotions crash over me.

I shake my head because I can't breathe to use words. "Hey-come here," I lean into his embrace as he tells me to breathe. If the scare wasn't enough to trip the anxiety inside me, the embarrassment is what had pushed me over the edge. His warmth is soothing against my skin and I focus on the sound of his beating heart. "I'm here. You won't lose me."

My breathing slows to a steady pace but my heart continues to quickly thump in my chest. Once I've calmed, Klaus pulls back and looks at me. I feel awkward as I realize we're standing in the middle of the floor in an embrace. It must show on my face because I'm lead to an empty table. I remain quiet as he orders two butterbeers. All I can think about are his words and the fact that he continues to hold my hand, even now.

"I'm...I'm sorry for freaking out. I just got so overwhelmed- and I'm not quite familiar with these areas." I explain, feeling foolish for my behavior.

Klaus' brows furrow and he appears confused. "There is no reason to apologize. I understand and you were completely valid in your actions." I nod in a kind of thank-you motion before we fall silent.

We sit there in our own thoughts as two pints of creamy, brown liquid are placed between us. "Why are you so nice to me?" I blurt the question, completely baffled by his actions and what they may mean.

He seems to ponder this for a moment before looking into my eyes. With a deep inhale, he admits, "Because I like you, Y/n. A lot."

"Why?" I ask, astonished. I need to know what he saw in me.

Shaking his head with a smile, he says, "You're caring and smart. You accept what life has to offer. You throw your head back when you laugh and your nose crinkles when you smile. You tuck your bottom lip between your teeth when you're trying to hide how you're feeling...Above all, these things put together makes you who you are. I adore that person and it completely captivates me. It also puzzles me. There's so much to know about you and It's the greatest adventure I've come to learn."

I hadn't realized I was holding my breath until I released it. What he confessed, the way he's looking at me- everything. I realize that I feel the same. That I couldn't have said it more beautifully than he just has in that moment. "I like you, Klaus. I think I have for a while now." Admitting this feels as if I were filled with helium and I'm afraid I'll float away with this light feeling.

Klaus' eyes soften and a shy smile plays on his lips. Our butterbeer slowly dwindles as we speak of our lives in much more detail. It feels familiar and comfortable with added excitement of our new found emotions. It feels safe- like taking on the world with your best friend at your side. Because that's exactly what it is.

Before we know it, the time to meet back up with Hagid arrives. We pay for our drinks and stroll through the crowds. Our hands are intertwined and we exchange happy glances on the way, albeit shy. Hagrid comes into view and he flags us down. "You're a cheery bunch." He comments with a pointed look at our hands.

I feel my face flush but I'm not disappointed when I scan Klaus' features to see the light pink resting there. He squeezes my hand reassuringly and it washes a sense of calm over me. Underneath the pink of his face, he wears a proud and relaxed expression. It makes my stomach flip in a wonderful way.

There's so much that could happen as we head together, hand-in-hand, into the unknown future. Klaus promises that we will sort things out as they arise and I believe- I trust him. Hogwarts is my home in so many ways I hadn't known before. It will forever be the place where I found my family.

Me and the Baudelaires against the world.

Masterlist Here

A/N: Over a year ago I finished A Series Of Unfortunate Events and wrote these stories. I hope it’s not too bad...eh heh. Thank you to my 300+ followers that have remained during my absence! Xx - Ellie-Mae

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emmahayashi · 4 years

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— if you keep ignoring your emotions like this, you will eventually break down. how unfortunate.

EMMA HAYASHI ( LYRICA OKANO ) is a 17 year old JUNIOR student at Broadripple Academy. SHE is originally from PORTLAND, OR but moved to Broadripple 1 YEAR ago. She is DILIGENT and SHREWD but can also be STANDOFFISH and BLUNT.

BASICS

Name: Emma Hayashi ( 林エマ ) Age: 17 Grade: Junior House: Melleray Cabin Room: Room 1 of the Junior Cabin How long have they been at Broadripple: 1 year Where are they from originally: Portland, OR Extra curricular: Yearbook ( Photographer ), Speech and Debate ( Member ) Other: Biography + Stats / Pinterest

TRAITS

Positive Personality Traits: Diligent, Creative, Shrewd Neutral Personality Traits: Competent, Mysterious, Selective Negative Personality Traits: Cynical, Blunt, Dramatic

FACTS

TW: terminal illness, parental death

— Emma is an only child raised by a single parent, her father. Her mother got sick shortly after her first birthday and passed away shortly after her second. She doesn’t really remember her mother and only knows her through old home videos and birthday cards she wrote for Emma before she passed. ( Her mom wrote her a birthday card for every birthday until her 21st. I’m big emo about it. )

— Seeing as it was just her and her dad growing up, they’re very close. Emma is extremely protective over her father. Legend has it she quit gymnastics lessons when she was 10 and again with dance lessons when she was 14 because one of the moms were getting too chummy with him ( and she really wasn’t vibing with the idea of a stepmom; she has a perfectly good mom she can learn from and connect with through old videos ).

— Much to Emma’s dismay, her father couldn’t be single forever and eventually got into a relationship with a new administrative hire at the university he teaches at. Sheila was kind, very helpful, seemed to make her father laugh, and very, very Christian. The last bit made Emma quite wary but she agreed that as long she didn’t push her beliefs onto them, she could stay. ( Her father thinks she was joking but she really wasn’t. )

— The idea ( read: insistence ) of attending Broadripple was something that was brought up to Emma by her father ( read: his fiancee told him to bring it up with her ) after an incident that happened between Emma, a friend, and her soon-to-be stepmom. She had no interest in moving schools but her dad ( who is normally 110% on Emma’s side ) seemed decided about how ‘good’ it’ll be for her. She saw right through his bullshit and immediately knew the entire thing was Sheila’s doing.

— Taking into account how close Emma is with her father, she feels deeply betrayed by him taking Sheila’s side after Emma and her friend were caught in a compromising position by her now-stepmom. It’s been a year since Emma enrolled into Broadripple, and her relationship with her father is still just as broken as it was before she left for boarding school. Though Emma’s father often makes efforts to mend their relationship, Emma is resolute in the fact that her dad can eat shit for picking someone he’s dated for 8 months over her.

HEADCANONS

— Emma is a very diligent student. Straight A’s. 110% focus in class. She finishes all of her homework the same day she gets it if she can, but will call you a ‘nerd’ for doing the same thing though because she’s #edgy like that.

— Emma is very artsy. It’s not uncommon to see her with a camera around her neck. Sometimes it’s because she’s taking photos for yearbook, but usually she’s just collecting video footage because she enjoys making short videos set to music in her free time. (An example of her stuff.)

— Music obsessed. Usually seen with earphones in and her eyes on her phone. She’s probably scrolling through Spotify for a new song to listen to so she can forget she’s living in a cabin with a bunch of weirdos in the middle of the woods.

— Kind of a big loner. She just prefers her own company. She’s also a bit on the fence about Broadripple folk or letting anyone get close to her because 1) she really doesn’t like religious people because of the bad experience with her stepmom and 2) she now fully believes that because of her dad that it doesn’t matter how close you are to someone, they will pick themselves over you in the end. Big yikes. Talk about trust issues.

— The camera she uses a Nikon D5600 ( primarily for Yearbook things and video projects ) but she also has a Fujifilm X-T20 that she uses occasionally for more chill day-to-day stuff. It’s smaller and less hefty.

— When not in uniform, she is ALWAYS in an outfit that is predominantly black, if not all black. Winged liner, black stud earrings, and Doc Martens are also a staple in her appearance.

— Always has a pair of Apple earphones rolled up and on her person at all times in case her usual AirPods ( it has a black case with an onigiri sticker on the front and a middle finger sticker on the back #duality ) run out of battery. She’s that paranoid about being without music knowing she’s going to be in even closer quarters with her Broadripple classmates.

— Ties her hair up when she’s about to study or do work (and not that she’d ever tell anyone this but she was deeply influenced to develop that habit because of Violet Baudelaire from the A Series of Unfortunate Events books.)

QUESTIONS ABOUT THE RETREAT

What do they think about The Retreat?

Emma is pissed but she’d rather be at boarding school than to have to deal with her dad and her new stepmom’s just-married bliss everyday so she’s taking it on the chin. She thinks it’s ridiculous that her dad is paying this much money for her to get a fancy education but also she has to sleep in a derelict shack?? (It’s not a shack, Emma is just dramatic.) She likes the idea of her dad’s wallet hurting for something so stupid though so she’s weirdly for it and not for it at the same time. Mostly mad about the lack of WIFI. How is she going to do her homework? And what if she wants to listen to a song that isn’t downloaded on her Spotify? Chaos!

Do they have any previous experience with camping or other outdoors?

No. Emma is very much an indoor kid/person. She likes her privacy, she likes her space, she likes her toilet with its built-in bidet, her WIFI. But she has some experience with the outdoors. She’s hiked several trails back in Oregon with her friends and often likes to go to woodsy places for video footage. The outdoors as an aesthetic is *chef’s kiss* for Emma. She’ll hang outdoors as long as she knows she can inevitably return indoors with all of her favorite comforts.

What does their cabin bunk look like? How will they decorate their space?

Minimal but sentimental. Emma is trying not to get too comfortable because of false hope that this situation will be sorted sooner than later and she’ll only have to share a room with one person in not too long. She has a several things stuck on the wall her bed is against. A group shot of her and her friends. A polaroid of her cat, Oscar. A photo of her and Bernie, a too-good-for-this-world Saint Bernard that belongs to Sheila but has since moved into the Hayashi household now that she’s married to Emma’s dad. The first postcard her best friend managed to successfully send to her from Portland. A PDLIF bumper sticker.

Do they believe in the supernatural? To what degree?

No, Emma thinks that’s nonsense. She’s very much a rational person that’s grounded in science and logic. However, she can’t deny that some shady shit’s been going on at Broadripple since she’s been here. Sometimes she swears she sees figures rush past in her peripheral but she quickly reminds herself it’s probably just her imagination or information being relayed back to her eyes in a weird way, a cognitive illusion or something.

Are they easily spooked?

No. Emma is quite interested by eerie sort of things so it doesn’t turn her away. Though she has had to take a deep breath and grit her teeth sometimes to stomach certain creepy places around Broadripple (not that she’d admit that). She wills herself to not be spooked, let’s say that. Can’t fight the way your body reacts to some things though.

AND FINALLY,

You’ll watch everyone else go mad. You don't much believe in the things everyone says they're seeing and hearing in the woods. Overreacting, indulging each other's fantasies, building nothing into something. But... you're the odd one out. Doesn't that make you mad?

#retreat:intro #retreat:task #retreat:task1 #terminal illness tw #parental death tw #emma ; about

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unfortunate-stranger-losers · 4 years

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All Those Things They Couldn’t Say - A Runaway Baudelaires AU

{ao3} {tumblr} {masterlist}

Chapter Forty-Six - Klaus stars a Fire

Violet stumbled around the House of Freaks’ Caravan. “We should go out.”

“The carnival’s almost empty, they’ll see us.”

“They have to be out there.”

“Mani.” “Calm down, we can search when it gets dark.”

“We shouldn’t have just- we should go look- Klaus, if he gets Isadora and-”

“I know.” Klaus bounced Sunny on his lap and shut his eyes. “I know. But we’re no use to them if we get captured. You said so yourself-”

“I can’t let them get hurt because of us again.”

“I… I know.” Klaus shook. “When they suggested going into the operating room instead of us I almost said no, but they were right, it was better strategy. We just-”

Violet held up a hand to shush him, and they heard footsteps heading for the caravan door. Violet grabbed her knife hesitantly, while Klaus reached for a smokebomb.

The door opened, and Isadora stumbled in, her arm around Duncan, who was hugging himself and shaking. She kicked the door shut, and Violet instantly ran forwards, going to Duncan’s other side and putting an arm around him. She helped Isadora sit him down, and watched as he curled up, putting his head in his lap. Klaus put Sunny on the ground and raced over, sitting beside him and hugging him. Sunny, for her part, ran to Isadora and hugged her legs.

“What happened? Are you okay?” Violet asked.

“I- we-” Isadora stuttered.

Violet quickly sat her down, too, and pulled off her jacket, throwing it over Isadora’s shoulders. “What did he do? Did he catch you?”

“Tort.” Sunny said. “Slow down, they’re scared.”

Violet took a deep breath, then nodded, sitting between Isadora and Duncan. She lifted Sunny to her lap, and then said, “Okay. Take your time. We’re here, and we can- do we need to guard the door, at least? Can you tell us that? Cause I-”

“He has Quigley.” Duncan said.

Everyone fell silent.

“Wh-what?” Violet said.

“He has Quigley.” Duncan said. Slowly, he uncurled himself, and showed them a small, purple notebook clasped in his hands. “He has Quigley.”

He pulled the commonplace book back to him, and Klaus hugged him tighter. “Are you sure?”

Duncan nodded, tears brimming on the edge of his eyes. “This is his book. He would’ve had it with him when- when the fire- it’s the only thing he would’ve-”

He shook hard again and leaned up against Klaus.

Violet turned to Isadora, who was staring at the table. Finally, she spoke. “She- Esme. She came to us. Told us that- that they have Quigley. They have our brother.” she hugged herself, pulling Violet’s jacket over her. “They- they’re hurting him. They’re hurting him because of us.”

“Isa-”

“She…” Isadora shut her eyes, and then stared down at the ground. “She said she’ll give him back if we push you into the lion pit.”

Violet shuddered, and Sunny curled up against her, breathing deep. Klaus blinked over at her.

Isadora ran a hand through her hair, then turned to Violet, a question in her eyes. “Esme says you saw him.”

“What?”

“When you were captured. She says you- you saw him.”

“I… I don’t…” Violet thought hard. “I was drugged out of my mind, we’re lucky I can remember anything, I…”

“Was he the boy?” Isadora asked. “The boy who helped you? You said- you said there was a kid-”

“I… it’s possible.” Violet shut her eyes. “I didn’t get a good look and I was super high, I… I guess he kinda did sound like Duncan, but that’s about the voice most boys your age have.”

“What happened to him? Tell us everything, please. What do you remember about him?”

Violet shut her eyes, and Sunny grabbed her hand, squeezing it a little. “I- he tried to help me. Olaf was… he was… talking about…” she shuddered again. “And he grabbed me and then the boy- he ran at Olaf, pushed him down. He couldn’t- he couldn’t get very far, he was also chained to something…” Isadora let out a cry. “But… he pushed Olaf, I was on the ground. I… everything is so blurry right now, but I remember being confused and hearing everyone screaming and… Olaf cut him. I remember that. He cut his arm.”

“He cut his arm?”

“I- I think so? I was dragged out before anything else happened- I don’t know…” Violet shuddered. “I don’t even know if it was Quigley.”

“It… it probably was.” Duncan mumbled, pressing himself against Klaus as much as he could and trying to stop the tears. “He- he would do something like that. He-”

“They have him. They have Quigley. He’s here. He’s here somewhere.” Isadora started crying, too, rocking back-and-forth. “She- she- she said if we do anything- if we try and stop her- she’ll hurt him. She’ll hurt him like she already has- she’ll hurt him if we do anything and she wants us to kill you- she- God, what are we supposed to do?”

“Okay, take a moment.” Klaus said. He held out a hand for Isadora to take, stretching across the table, and he said, “Okay, so we need to find our parents and Quigley and get out as fast as possible. If Esme knows we’re here, we don’t have a lot of time.”

“If we do anything, she’ll hurt Quigley.” Isadora shivered.

“Not if we get him out first.” Violet said. She also grabbed Isadora’s hand, and then said, “Okay, here’s what’s happening. We’re going out and searching now- I know it’s dark, and we shouldn’t search in the dark, but we’ll figure it out.”

She stood up and started tying back her hair, and Isadora straightened in her seat, her eyes full of hope at the sight. Sunny crawled onto Duncan’s lap as he looked over, too, and Klaus carefully unwrapped his arm from his friend, standing up and walking to Violet, who was pacing.

“We can cross Lulu’s tent off the list. We’ll check all the tents, and then figure out how to search the caravans- the other employees will be sleeping so we’ll have to be super careful.”

Klaus leaned against the outer wall, and then jumped. “Did you guys hear something?”

They shook their heads, though Isadora looked a little panicked. Violet went to the wall, listening carefully, and then said, “Think it’s just the wind. Okay, so, we’ll have to tie the caravan to the car, but I’m thinking we do that after our families are out. Hide them in the caravan while we connect.”

“While we connect.” Klaus nodded, still leaning against the wall and narrowing his eyes.

“Okay.” Violet clapped, before returning to the table, reaching for her sketch of the carnival. She drew an X over Lulu’s tent. “We need to figure out what’s most likely and go there first. We’ll have to hurry, and we will need weapons on us at all times. We have no idea who’s guarding them or who could spot us moving through the carnival, and we will not be caught off-guard again.”

“What if someone finds us?” Duncan asked, shivering and hugging Sunny to him.

“Then death. Instantly.” Violet said. “We don’t have the time for mercy or bargaining.”

The Quagmires slowly nodded, and Sunny absent-mindedly bit her finger.

“What’s most important is we never split up again, that keeps leading to disaster. Is that understo- Klaus, for fuck’s sake.”

The Quagmires jumped and turned, to see that Klaus was no longer in the caravan, and the door was swinging open.

Klaus had opened the door as quietly as possible, and then stepped out, silently moving his way to the ground and then to the back of the caravan. He was not surprised in the slightest to see Lulu there, muttering as she tied a rope to the edge, the other connected to Olaf’s car. The thought had occurred to him when Violet had said it, and as his eyes followed the rope, twisting and turning and tying together, something dark sparked within him.

“The devil’s tongue knot.” he said, and Lulu almost jumped out of her skin, her eyes widening in terror as she gasped and looked up at him. “Good plan. Almost always holds.”

“I- who-”

Klaus raised an eyebrow. “Let me guess. Olaf said he needed a spare caravan, and you think it’d be fine to just let your employees sleep in the cold, probably without telling them first.”

Lulu gaped at him a moment, and then straightened herself, trying to look intimidating. “The freaks will not, please, be around for long. They can sleep in their tent until they are fed to lions, please. Who are you?”

“I bet Olaf wants the caravan for easier transportation of his prisoners.” Klaus said, clenching his fist. “I’m assuming he had them in the trunk before, but now he wants them split up. And there’s three of them, and while I think they could probably fit in that trunk, it’d be a tight squeeze. Not that he cares about their comfort.”

“Who are you, please? What are you doing in Madame Lulu’s carnival, please?”

“Oh, you can drop the act, Lulu.” Klaus rolled his eyes, before crossing his arms. “We ran the same scam. We know how you’re working. And, honestly, at least our Mother had the sense to not play the mystical foreigner trope, we just pretended she was possessed.”

“Your-” her eyes widened, and then her false accent dropped. “You’re one of the Baudelaire children.”

“Ding, ding, ding.” Klaus said, imitating the ringing of a bell. “Give the girl a prize. She’s finally used her brain.”

He reached into his jacket pocket, and pulled out a knife, pointing it right at Lulu. “Let’s take a walk.”

She stepped backwards, just as the door slammed open again. “Klaus!” Violet whisper-shouted. “Klaus, what the hell were we saying about splitting-”

Her eyes fell on Klaus’s knife, and she stiffened.

“I’d get everyone out.” Klaus said to her, keeping his eyes locked on Lulu. “We have something to discuss with Madame Lulu. Except I am tired of calling her that,” his voice broke slightly, “So can she please tell me what to call her, lest I call her nothing but ‘bitch.’”

The woman stared at the knife, and then said, “O-Olivia.”

“Olivia, cool.” Klaus said, as Violet hesitantly descended the stairs, gesturing for the Quagmires to follow her. Duncan stepped out, carrying Sunny in his shaky arms, with Isadora trailing behind him. “Cool. Now…” he took a threatening step forwards, and Lulu stepped back. Klaus moved under the rope connecting the caravan and car, and continued walking backwards with her.

“Where-?” Olivia began.

Klaus honestly didn’t know; he felt like he was on autopilot. “I just have some questions for you, Olivia. There are some things I’d like an answer for.” he said. He heard the others rush to stand behind him, confusion and fear radiating off of them. “Like, first of all, why you think it’s okay to exploit people’s insecurities and then refuse to even give them the dignity of payment.”

“I-”

“And then, to top it off, let a dickhole of a man feed them to lions for entertainment value.”

“I- they’re not-”

Klaus continued pushing her backwards, twirling the knife threateningly in his hands, as they walked closer to the looming, broken rollercoaster. “They’re not what? Human? You wanna know what makes a human, Olivia? Empathy. Maybe try that sometime.”

Olivia opened her mouth wide, and Klaus quickly said, “Scream and you get stabbed.”

She shut her mouth.

“Another question,” Klaus cocked his head. “Why do you think it’s okay to tell a monster where to find children, scared children who you know he’s planning to torture and murder? Why do you think it’s okay to hide their tortured and injured parents and a lost, scared kid in your carnival?”

“Klaus…” Violet whispered, glancing towards the other caravans. “Just ask her where our parents and Quigley are, and let’s go.”

“Yes, I’d like to know that.” Klaus said. “But, I do have one more question for her.”

“I- I don’t know where your parents are! I let the troupe hide them-”

“I think you’re lying to us.” Klaus said, and then he reached forwards and pushed her farther, past the tents, and she skidded across dirt. “But you can tell us where they are in a moment. I just have one thing to ask you first.”

“Klaus-” Duncan began.

“Count Olaf found us because he found out that Lemony was sending messages to our parents.” Klaus said, and he twirled the knife again. “They found out they were in contact, and so killed Lemony and drew us there.”

Violet stiffened, the same thought that had been filtering into Klaus’s mind from their arrival suddenly pummeling her.

That was about when they heard a roar, and jumped, realizing just where Klaus had taken them, whether he knew it or not. Sunny whimpered, and Isadora put one hand on Violet’s arm and one on Duncan’s, as they looked to see, just a few feet behind Lulu, a freshly-dug lion pit. They could hear the creatures pacing and growling, probably upset at having been awoken.

“I- I don’t-”

“So tell me,” Klaus said, and he stepped even closer, his knuckles white around the knife’s handle. “How did he find out Lemony was talking to us?”

Sunny let out a small cry, and Violet started to shake- with fury or fear, they couldn’t quite tell.

“I- I just-”

“I bet you intercepted a telegram, decoded it, figured out who it was for, and dangled it in front of your crush.” Klaus’s voice went very, very dark, and he pushed her again. She was now on the edge of the lion pit, and seemed keenly aware of this, as she started sputtering, trying to say something. “I bet you knew the best present for him would be people he could torture like a sadistic bastard, keep them in physical and mental anguish and throw three kids into a world of pain on their own.”

“I just…” Olivia finally said, her voice small, “I give the people what they want.”

“No.” Klaus shook his head. “You’re just a coward, Olivia, a coward who will burn the world to keep herself safe.”

He turned, then, looking to the others. Isadora was looking at Olivia in shock, and then she said, “Where’s our brother?”

“I- I cannot tell you-”

“Can’t or won’t?” Duncan snapped.

“Please, I promise, I don’t know. I just told the henchpeople to tell me where to draw crowds away from if lots of people arrive, they wander around themselves, I don’t know-”

“But you let them keep our brother here.” Duncan said.

“Renny.” Sunny said. “And our parents.”

“And you told him where to find our parents, by telling them who they had to kill.”

“I didn’t-”

“Don’t tell us you didn’t know!” Klaus’s voice broke again. “Don’t tell us, because you did! You knew what you were doing and you did it anyway!”

“Please, I just did what I was asked.”

“You were asked to do horrible things, and you did them. And you’re a horrible person.” Klaus said. “The way you treat your employees, the way you throw everyone under the bus to keep yourself afloat… you…”

He turned again, and locked eyes with Violet. Violet shuddered once more, before holding herself very still. And then she nodded.

Klaus turned back to Lulu, staring at her teary eyes, and then said, “You killed our dad.”

And then he threw his knife into her, causing her to stumble and fall backwards.

Klaus immediately ran back to the others, and Violet clutched them all into a group hug as the roars and screams hit them. Then, after a second, Violet dragged them out behind a tent, as they started hearing caravan doors slam open, people start shouting. Rushing.

“Klaus, what do we do?” Violet asked.

Klaus sank to the ground, staring at the bloodied knife in his hands.

“Klaus!”

Klaus looked up, blinking away tears. Violet put her hands on his shoulders, breathing slowly. He caught on, and breathed along with her, slowing himself down to avoid panic. He glanced to the others; Duncan was curled around Sunny, the two of them covering their ears, and Isadora hugged them both.

“What did I do?”

Violet shut her eyes. “We can talk about that later. Klaus, they’re going to know we’re here.”

Klaus bit his lip, and then said, “Then we get them out of the carnival. Away from us.”

She widened her eyes at him. “You’re not suggesting G-sharp-minor.”

“Do we have another choice?”

“Wh-” Isadora asked, and they turned, worried they’d see that she was scared of them, or hate them. After all, they’d failed to get information out of Lulu and just put them all at risk. But she just gave them a look, one that said she understood.

She cleared her throat, and then said, “What’s G-sharp-minor?”

Klaus shuddered, and Violet pulled her bag out. She reached past the Baudelaire file, shuddering as if she touched the most precious thing in the world, and then she pulled out a box of matches.

“Burn it all.” she said.

“Olaf will get in his car, but they’ll take off fast.” Klaus looked down at the ground. “We may not be able to hit him.”

“Esme said…” Duncan shivered. “Esme said they were going to burn a VFD Headquarters.”

Violet’s eyes lighted. “The stain.”

“What?”

“There was a map in… in a tent.” Klaus said. “We know where the headquarters are. Mount Fraught.”

“Where the Snow Scouts hike every False Spring?”

“It’s not False Spring yet.”

“But I bet there are Snow Scouts nearby.” Violet said. “And I’m sure we can convince them to start out early.”

They looked to each other, and Klaus whispered, “So. Ready to set some shit on fire?”

They nodded, and Violet struck her match.

#asoue #asoue netflix #a series of unfortunate events #runaway baudelaires au #asoue fanfiction #the carnivorous carnival #all those things they couldn't say #mine #my fanfic

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vfdbaudelairefile13 · 4 years

Text

Dear reader, Do not be fooled by the title of the chapter.

I must caution you about this next chapter. This is the chapter where we begin to explore creepy undertones pertaining to Olaf as a character. If you are not comfortable with reading about predatory behavior, comments ranging from vague to slightly explicit (on the topic of these predatory behaviors), a young girl being restrained, physical violence against a minor, threats to a minor, or vague to slightly specific comments about pedophilia, I would suggest skipping the first part of this chapter. Although the second part does show a character a low point and this character does endure a panic attack due to his constant distraught thoughts. Please read with caution. If anything becomes too triggering or makes you too uncomfortable I am happy to summarize in vague details (when going over certain parts) so you are still able to follow the story.

Author’s Note:

I, Susan, the author of Misery Loves Company also wants to make it abundantly clear that THE TOPICS/TRIGGERS IN THIS CHAPTER are things I frown upon entirely. I do NOT condone pedophilia at all, whatsoever. And I believe it is NOW in my fic that I will say this: if you ship the disgusting vile mess of a 'ship' that is Violaf...I would prefer if you stop interacting with my page, my story, and any of my works. Just because I put it in my story does not mean I condone it. I am using it as a element to explain why this sort of shit is WRONG.

If we are being abundantly honest, it is these segments that I have the hardest time writing and editing. It is a long, hard process and it never gets easier. No matter how vague the comment Olaf or even Esme make is, it is never easy. It makes my blood boil, my skin crawl and my stomach churn.

Again, if you can't get through the first segment of this chapter or any segments in future chapters. Please let me know and I will relay what happens without the triggering details.

I don't feel right saying 'enjoy' because this is a tough pill to swallow.

So read with caution. Let me know if you feel I went too far or if you just want to comment like normal. I am not perfect. I am open to criticism. I just needed to make sure all my readers understand where I stand on the topic of Count Olaf's creepy ass infatuation to Violet.

Read with caution. Love the support you guys have given this fic.

-Susan.

_______________________________________________________

Chapter Forty-Eight:

The One With Sunny Giving Klaus a Pep-talk

“Good job,” Olaf said as he held Violet in a headlock. Violet tried her best to fight against the grown man. But it was no use. Violet tried smacking his arm hoping he’d let her go but he tightened his grip on her as he looked around, frowning at Esme’s empty arms. “Wait...where are the other brats?” he growled disappointed.

Esme shrugged her shoulders. “I got you the Snicket bitch. Jesus, are you ever satisfied?” Esme huffed visibly annoyed that she caught Violet. Esme smiled wickedly as she removed her stiletto shoe from underneath Violet’s chin. “You owe me new shoes,” she said to Olaf, who merely rolled his eyes as he tried to get a firm grasp on Violet. He currently had one hand around her mouth to keep her screams from being heard. Luckily for Violet, he had been wearing a pair of black medical gloves, she tried to wrangle and maneuver his hand to where she could bite him, but it seemed like he knew what she was doing because he was viciously fighting against her.

“Be a good pet and hold still, dammit,” Olaf hissed into Violet’s ear as the young girl continued to struggle. He was grinning from ear to ear at the ‘little gift’ Esme had caught for him. He looked down at a struggling Violet who looked back at him with daggers. This made him chuckle a bit. Did she think she was scary? Did she think that looking up at him with those innocent blue eyes was going to make him show her any mercy? He smiled down at the struggling young girl. She’s been as much of a pain in the ass as her father. But...soon that will change. He tried to hide his excitement from Esme. How amazing it was that she got him his favorite little orphan.

Violet continued to struggle, trying desperately to get Olaf to let her go. She started to laugh once she got to a certain point of desperation. She wasn’t entirely sure where her will to laugh was coming from because a large part of her wanted to break down and cry but she refused to show this fucker and bitch any weakness. Was this the opposite of a panic attack? She pondered as she tried to stomp on Olaf’s toes.

Ignoring his excitement of having Violet as his captive, he was still annoyed that the blasted bookworm and biting brat have escaped his clutches again but...Olaf was planning to make Violet pay for that. Olaf sighed angrily as he briefly released his grip on Violet. Before Violet had any time to react, Olaf had gripped her shoulders and whipped her around to where the young girl now faced him. He gripped her hair tightly, turning her head towards him, forcing her to look him directly in his shiny eyes. He leaned in close to her, in hopes of scaring her. But the girl continued to laugh unfaltered after briefly yelping in pain. “ I’m only going to ask you once,” he hissed as he looks directly in her eyes. Violet tried to turn away but he held her gaze. “ Where are the Baudelaires?”

For a brief moment, Violet continued to laugh until Olaf pushed her head away from his face. He looked to Esme annoyed. “Esme, can you take care of her for me, dearest?” he asked as he gripped Violet’s hair tighter.

Esme smiled as she dropped her stiletto shoe, allowing it to bounce on the floor. She walked over to Violet, smirked and then slapped the young girl’s face as hard as she could. Violet’s head swung violently to the left.

“ You fucking bitch,” Violet hissed through gritted teeth, holding back tears. She bit her lip, not allowing herself to yelp or cry out.

Olaf pulled her face back towards his roughly. “Glad to see you’re done laughing,” Olaf said smiling. “ Now where are the blasted Baudelaires?” he hissed.

“They got out!” Violet yelled back, doing her best to not look fearful. “You’ll never get to them! You lose! You hear me? You fucking lost this sick game of yours! I told you I wouldn’t let you hurt them again! And I always keep my promises, you pathetic piece of dog shit!” She yelled.

He merely cocked his head to the side, smirking at her. His smirk sent shivers down her spine.

“Oh, on the contrary, Violet, dear,” Olaf hissed stroking the cheek Esme had slapped with his free hand. Violet tensed up under his touch. She looked to Esme, who was glaring towards Olaf with a face of pure annoyance. “I believe I’ve won!” he twirled his fingers in her head, lacing a lot of her hair around his fingers as he jerked her head roughly. Causing her to groan and wince in pain. He slowly relieved his grip from her hair, she took a small breath before he strengthened his hold once more, yanking her hair to bring her face even closer to his. Her breathing halted as she bit her lip trying to hide the fact that she was in pain. Her face cringed up from both the putrid smell that Olaf was radiating and the fact that she was uncomfortably too close to Olaf. He stared at her once more, in silence, before a smirk grew on his hideous face. “You see, I have Lemony’s little princess right where I want her.”

With the mention of her father’s name, Violet’s eyes widened instinctively. “Keep my father’s name out of your fucking mouth,” she hissed as Esme rolled a gurney into the antechamber of the Library of Records.

Esme placed her stiletto heel under Violet’s chin once more. “ If you know what’s good for you, you’d cooperate,” she hissed as she and Olaf placed a struggling Violet onto the gurney. Violet kicked and swang her arms haphazardly trying to get a good swing or two on her captors. But they were able to subdue her. Esme held her wrists down, viciously stabbing her stiletto-sharp nails into Violet’s wrists. Violet bit her lip, trying to hide her discomfort as Olaf tied her wrists to the sides of the gurney with two familiar objects.

“You fucking ass!” Violet hissed when she recognized her own hair ribbons being used against her. She swung her feet desperately trying to kick the back of Olaf’s head. How dare he steal her backpack, go through its contents, and now use her own ribbons against her. Her own hair ribbons. The audacity! She thought as she struggled against her wrist restraints.

“Your ribbons are actually very useful,” Olaf commented. “Wanna know what else from your backpack is going to be very useful soon?”

Violet’s eyes widened knowing exactly what Olaf was hinting at. He was threatening her brother. “You won’t touch them!” Violet hissed, struggling harsher.

“This brat has a lot of fight in her,” Esme commented as she began to push the gurney down the halls of the hospital. Violet looked up at her captors, glaring at them both.

“Way more than the Quagmire twins or either Baudelaire,” Olaf agreed, smirking towards Violet. “But we’ll just have to fix that, now won’t we?”

“They’re fucking triplets!” Violet hissed.

Both Esme and Olaf rolled their eyes as they turned a corner. Violet continued to pull at her wrist restraints, hoping to tear her ribbons. She looked up at Olaf and Esme who looked down at her with cruel, vicious smiles.

“My diagnosis is you’ve been captured,” Olaf joked.

“In my medical opinion,” Esme said with a scowl, “it all has to go.”

“You’re not real doctors!” Violet cried desperately. “You’ll never get away with this!”

Violet continued to struggle and argue as Esme slapped a piece of tape on her mouth making Olaf smile down at Violet once more. It was like Violet was a wrapped birthday gift. A toy...that he can play with...a toy that he can break. A toy that he will break.

As he looked down at her, he could see both Beatrice and Lemony within her. He wanted to break her like they broke him. He wanted her to suffer like he’s been suffering all these years while Lemony, Beatrice, and Bertrand were happily raising children and living their lives as if nothing had happened. And why wouldn’t they be able to move on so easily? They weren’t the ones who had been betrayed and abandoned. Olaf sighed angrily, causing Violet to glance up at him with curiosity. He gave her a cold, dark smirk. These children will pay for the sins of their parents. All three of them. Starting with Little Miss Snicket. He thought as he stared at her. Killing Lemony wasn’t enough. He wanted those fortunes and he wanted all three of those brats to suffer. He will obliterate both the Snicket and Baudelaire lines once and for all.

He looked down again as he and Esme continued to push Violet’s gurney through the halls of the hospital. She twisted her head left and right, her eyes becoming desperate with each passing second. Olaf couldn’t tell if she was trying to get the attention of a passerby or hospital staff or if she were looking for those two other bratty orphans.

If the bookworm was as smart as he thought he was. He would take that baby sister of his and get the fuck out. Leave little Violet behind. Olaf thought as he smiled in a Grinch-like smile as an idea formed in his head. They’re a nuisance...when united...but separated...they won’t stand a chance! He thought wickedly.

He doubted that Violet was going to get out of this one but he had an idea that might help him in the future if she does somehow escape.

Violet looked up at Olaf’s eyes but this time he could see that behind the cold demeanor...was a scared little girl...she tried her best to glare but he can see the fear behind her eyes. This made him smile again. Maybe we can work out a deal… he thought as he begins to tie in both of his ideas.

As he and Esme pushed the gurney into a vacant room, Violet looked around frantically for someone to help her. But as she heard Esme close the door behind them, her heart sank in her chest.

“We’ll store her here for now,” Olaf explained.

“Whatever,” Esme said uninterested. She wanted to get back to looking for the two other orphans whom she believed had her sugar bowl in their possession.

Olaf walked over to where Violet was still struggling. Her legs were kicking wildly, she was wincing in pain as she pulled at her hair ribbons that were tied tightly around her wrists. She shook her head desperately. Olaf looked down at her once more. “I hope they were worth all of this…” he hissed in a tone that sent chills down even Esme’s spine.

Violet continued to struggle trying to say something but she couldn’t since Esme had taped her mouth shut. So she continued to merely glare at Olaf.

Olaf leaned down closely to Violet’s face to the point where she could once again smell his rancid breath. “You should’ve learned from your dear father…” he taunted. “When you fuck up my schemes...you feel my... fire.” He said using an exaggerated tone to emphasize the word ‘fire’, causing Violet to struggle even harder. She was desperately wanting to punch him, but she couldn’t. “But don’t worry...my sweet...precious...little...Violet,” he began as he stroked her cheek. She tried to move her face away from his hand but she was unsuccessful. “I know how to handle delinquent little orphans, just ask the bookworm.” He said laughing as he turned away and began to walk out of the room with Esme. “But for you, my sweet, your punishment will be vastly fucking different than the bookworm’s...that’s for sure,” He called to her as he closed the hospital room door and turned to the Henchperson of Indeterminate Gender. “Do not let any unauthorized personnel into that room. Do you understand me?!” He barked at his henchperson, who nodded immediately going back to reading their book.

Olaf began to head back towards Babs’ office when Esme finally spoke up. “What did you mean by ‘but your punishment will be vastly fucking different than the bookworm’s?’ “ Esme asked glaring at Olaf.

“Don’t worry about it,” Olaf replied nonchalantly. “Let’s go find the other two brats before they find your precious sugar bowl,” he replied immediately changing the subject to one he knows she’ll never shut up about.

“Those mini coke snatching bitches better not touch my damn sugar bowl,” Esme hissed. “Or I’ll tear them limb from limb with my bare fucking hands!”

“Atta girl,” Olaf said snickering to himself. “One down...two to go.”

__________________________________________________

No matter how hard the two Baudelaire orphans tried, they could not fall asleep. Not only was it too cold and too scary, but they were also far too worried about their older sister to get even a blink of sleep. Klaus and Sunny huddled in a corner of the unfinished half of the hospital watching the sun slowly rise. Finally, Sunny was the first child to sit up, giving up on getting any sleep. Klaus continued to lay down, shivering in the breeze. He didn’t dare look at Sunny.

“Come on,” Sunny called out shaking her brother. “Gotta get Violet back!”

Klaus didn’t respond to his younger sister. He just tapped his fingers on the Snicket file nervously. He wasn’t looking towards Sunny either, he was looking up at the sky. Sunny could tell that his breathing was becoming odd and harsh.

“I’m tired, too,” Sunny admitted as she shook her brother harder. “But...save Vi.”

Once more, Klaus didn’t respond to her. His breathing shallowed, becoming harsher. “Do...do you think it’s true?” he asked her younger sister.

“Yes, save Vi!” Sunny cried desperately.

“No, I mean do you think...one of our parents survived the fire?” he asked, his voice breaking.

“I don’t know!” Sunny cried looking her brother in the eye. “Talk later,”

It is difficult to describe how Klaus and Sunny felt, hiding in the unfinished wing of the hospital, desperately waiting for Violet to make a miraculous escape. The phrase ‘having butterflies in one’s stomach’ would perfectly describe the troubling sensation the two younger orphans were feeling in their cores. Having butterflies in one’s stomach is not a pleasant feeling, but it is the best way to describe how the two Baudelaires felt when they left their sister with Count Olaf and Esme Squalor and perils unknown.

Sunny grabbed her brother’s shirt and shook it as hard as a toddler could shake a thirteen-year-old boy, but Klaus seemed mainly unphased by Sunny. “I can’t do this…” he whimpered, still not looking his younger sister in the eye.

“Huh?” Sunny asked confused as Klaus erupted into loud sobs.

“I can’t do this…” he cried trying to wrap his arms around himself as his body began to shake.

“Can’t what?” Sunny asked.

“I can’t do this …” he repeated, furiously shaking his head.

“No comprende.”

He smacked his fist on the edge of the wooden blank angrily. “I can’t do this! Don’t you get it Sunny! Violet is as good as gone! We’re as good as dead!” he cried frantically. “The only reason that we are alive today is because of Violet and Lemony!”

Sunny looked at her brother in disbelief. She opened her mouth to argue but when she thought about it, he was right.

“Get up,” she pleaded. She knew her brother was right but she knew it’d be wrong to leave Violet to save herself.

To Sunny’s surprise, Klaus jumped up, still shaking and sobbing. He began to pace back and forth. He looked towards the sun for a moment, contemplating his next move. “We have to go,” he said.

“What?” Sunny asked in disbelief.

“J-just because I can’t do it...doesn’t mean someone else can’t,” he reasoned. Chuckling to himself. He slid his hand in his hair. “W-we’ll just hotwire a car...you...you can drive…” he said pacing back and forth frantically. Sunny watched worriedly as Klaus wasn’t paying attention to where his feet were traveling. She cringed each time he got close to the edge of one of the beams that the children were hiding out on.

“No,” Sunny said shaking her head. “We stay,”

“No...no...this...this plan is a good plan.”

“No,”

“ Sunny! I can’t do this!” he cried desperately. “I’m not Violet...I’m not half as good as Violet!”

“No contest,”

“I’m...not saying it’s a contest, Sunny!” Klaus cried.

“Not leaving,” Sunny said putting her foot down.

“She’ll…” Klaus cringed as he spoke. His breathing harsh and shallow as he imagined what could be happening to Violet. “S-she’ll...she’ll...be fine.” he lied. Sunny wasn’t sure who he thought he was fooling with that bullshit statement. Her or himself. “He won’t kill her.” he reasoned. Deciding to change his initial statement to one that he was nearly confident in.

Sunny just stared at him in utter disbelief. She knew that he knew his suggestion was a terrible one and she knew deep down he knew what the two siblings had to do. Klaus continued to pace as he shook. “I...I can’t,” he cried. Klaus wrapped his arms around himself. Sunny couldn’t tell if he was hugging himself or trying to shield his chest. She sighed.

“We’ll go get the authorities,” Klaus reasoned.

“On the lam,” Sunny explained.

Klaus stomped his foot on the ground. “Look, we’ll find someone. He won’t kill her…” Klaus said as Sunny just shook her head at him, folding her arms across her chest defiantly.

“ Sunny!” Klaus pleaded. “He...he wouldn't kill her,” He repeated confidently. “He needs her alive to get her fortune.” he reasoned his voice breaking.

Sunny simply glared at him. “ Klaus!”

“He won’t kill her!” Klaus reiterated. His voice breaking with his desperation. Deep down Klaus knew he was right that Olaf wouldn’t kill Violet, but he also knew what Olaf could...and would do to Violet if given the opportunity. He could do other severely terrible things to Violet. Things that made Klaus shake harder as he thought about them. Things he didn’t want to imagine. Things he couldn’t tell Sunny because she was still so young. He shuddered violently. “He...he...Esme wouldn’t let him...She...She…” he burst out crying, falling to his knees. Sunny rushed over to her mess of a brother, grabbing his glasses off his face, holding them for him as he rubbed the tears from his eyes. “ Sunny…” he cried meekly, barely even looking at Sunny. “I’m sorry...I can’t do this…I don’t wanna leave her...but there’s nothing I can do for her.”

“Klaus…”

“I can’t…” he reiterated. “I’m not the oldest. I’ve never been the oldest! If I was the true eldest Baudelaire, you and I would be dead! ” Sunny shuddered as her brother said it. Sunny wanted to argue Klaus’ point but Sunny could not find any evidence to disprove her brother’s theory that the two younger orphans are only alive because of Violet and her father, Lemony. So she sighed as she wrapped her arms around her brother.

Klaus sniffled and wiped his eyes once more. He looked down at Sunny, who looked up at him offering a toothy smile. Klaus put a hand on Sunny’s cheek. “I couldn’t even protect you, Sunshine,” he said as he began to cry harder. “He got you. I let him get you.”

“Not your fault,” Sunny explained.

“What makes you think I can save Violet? ” Klaus asked.

“You got this,” Sunny argued, not really giving Klaus a reason why she believed this which didn’t help her case.

“No...no...no I don’t!” he panicked. “She’s a goner! She’s...I...I...can’t do this!” He shuddered again. His mind imagining what Hell Violet could already be going through. He knew deep down that he couldn’t leave Violet...even if he wanted to, which he honestly didn’t. Even if it seemed like the smarter thing to do. Even if it was the safer thing to do. Even if he knew he couldn’t rescue her, he had to at least try. Even if Violet sacrificed herself wanting for Klaus and Sunny to run and never turn back. The two Baudelaires could never leave her with Olaf. If it weren’t for Esme knocking a heavy filing cabinet in their way, they would have exited the mail chute and joined Violet back in the Library of Records. He continued to cry, sobbing into his hands as he disentangled himself from Sunny. Klaus backed himself against a wall and started crying into his knees. Sunny walked over to where her brother had retreated and placed a hand on his head.

“Ohana,” she said as Klaus slowly looked up at her. Sunny wrapped her arms around her brother once more. “Ohana means family…” she said slowly. “And family means…?”

Klaus looked up at his sister as she smiled at him knowing damn well that he knew how to finish the quote. “Nobody gets left behind…” both Baudelaire siblings said simultaneously. “Or forgotten.”

Klaus sighed as his body started to shake slower than it had been. “You’re right, Sunny.” Klaus agreed as Sunny wiped his tears from his face.

“You are the best big brother I could ask for,” she said slowly. She put her index finger up to Klaus, indicating for him to give her a second. She strained her face as she searched her mind for the right words. She gave her brother a small smile. “You have missteps. Violet has them, too.” the toddler explained to her thirteen-year-old brother. She lifted her index finger again indicating to her brother that she isn’t done speaking just yet and he is to wait his turn. “But I love you both and believe in you both,”

Klaus smiled at his younger sister as he watched her articulate her thoughts. “Sunny, you talk so well…” he said in awe.

“Thanks to you,” she replied. “You may not be tough or brave like Violet,” Sunny explained as Klaus frowned. “But you are just as smart and strong,”

He scoffed. “I’m not strong, Sunny.”

Sunny placed her tiny hand on Klaus’ chest, frowning at her brother. “You are strong,” she explained as she averted her eyes from his face to his chest, cringing a bit as she remembered what Olaf had told her.

He followed her gaze, he opened his mouth but no words came out. He looked down at where she had placed her hand. He gasped as a wave of realization crashed over him. “Do...do you know…?” he asked, his eyes widened with a mix of embarrassment, shock, and anger.

Sunny nodded her head slowly. “He told me…” she admitted. “And I am sorry,”

Klaus shook his head. “Sunny, it’s not your fault.”

She shrugged her shoulders. “Either way,” she said. “You got cut trying to save me,” she said cringing. “I got taken saving you…” Sunny paused. Klaus chuckled softly when she placed her index finger in the air once more telling him that she isn’t finished talking just yet. “Violet got snatched saving us…” she took a deep breath. “Now we have to save our sister.”

Klaus took his glasses from Sunny’s hand, smiling at his toddler sister. “You know,” he said as he stood up. He felt a little shaky and uneven but he knew it was the massive pit of butterflies in his stomach. “I hate when you’re right,”

Sunny giggled. “Get used to it, bro,” she said in her snarky tone.

Klaus smiled down at his little sister. His heart hurting because she is so much bigger and more grown-up than she had been that day at the beach. He remembered when she relied on him for everything but as he looked at her now, he was proud of the young toddler that stood before him. Even through everything they had been through. Living with Olaf, Monty’s murder, a hurricane, him being hypnotized, she had been strong enough to work at a lumbermill and as a secretary at their private school. She had endured two weeks running laps and then endured being Olaf’s kidnap victim. He didn’t know exactly what happened to her throughout that time but he could only imagine the Hell that his sister and the Quagmires had endured. But as he stared at his baby sister, he could see that these events in her vastly short life have affected her in both good and bad ways. Klaus could tell that these events made her stronger. She was resilient like Violet and their mother. He and Sunny walked together to the singular wooden that led from the hospital to the unfinished half. He took a deep breath as he picked up Sunny, holding her close. “You know,” he said as Sunny wrapped an arm around Klaus’ neck. “Violet isn’t the only one who reminds me of Mom,” he told her as he watched the toddler smile as she hugged their sister’s locket that remained safely around her neck for safekeeping just like her big sister had asked.

“Thank you,” she replied. “You remind me of Dad.”

Klaus gripped Sunny tighter as he began to balance himself and her on the wooden beam. “Do you think whoever survived the fire is looking for us?” he asked trying to find a way to distract himself and keep himself from looking down.

Sunny slowly shrugged her shoulders hoping to not cause her brother to become unbalanced. “We’ll worry about that after we save Violet,”

“Right,” Klaus said.

As Klaus crossed the beam in silence, all of his negative thoughts were fighting to reside in the forefront of his mind. You’re a failure. You’re nothing like Violet or your mother. You can’t save your hero. His mind repeated. Flashes of the horrible things Olaf has done to him haunted his mind as well. There were even flashes of what he imagined could be happening to Violet right now. Or what is going to happen to Sunny once the two siblings are caught? You’re only putting Sunny in danger. The voices in his head warned him as he successfully made it to the finished half of the hospital. He glanced at Sunny, making sure she didn’t catch his quick glance. The butterflies in his stomach were flying rapidly, without hesitation as he thought about how he was literally walking into a hospital that had been taken over by his worst nightmare. Klaus thought of all the sharp, scary tools and instruments that doctors and nurses used on a daily. He began to shake once more as he pondered which ones Olaf would use on him. The doubts that Sunny had fought off were slowly inching their way back to Klaus’ mind. Sunny felt herself shake in her brother’s grasp as they officially reentered the hospital.

I believe it is my duty to inform you that Heimlich Hospital is gone now, and will probably never be rebuilt, although many can argue that it was never entirely built to begin with. If you want to visit it, you have to convince a farmer to let you borrow his mule, for nobody in the surrounding area is willing to go within twelve miles of its wreckage, and once you arrived you can hardly blame them. The few scraps of building that have survived are covered with a thick and prickly type of ivy called kudzu, which makes it difficult to see what the hospital looked like when the three children had first arrived in the VFD van. The confusing maps have been gnawed off the walls of the sagging staircases, so it is very hard to imagine how troublesome it was to find one’s way through all the areas of the building. And the intercom system has long since crumbled away, with only a handful of square speakers left sitting among the ashen rubble, so it is impossible to imagine just how nerving it was when Klaus and Sunny had the misfortune to hear the latest announcement from Dr. Mattathias Medical School.

What made matters worse and did not help Klaus’ anxiety or fear about the whole situation was the fact that the second that the Baudelaires had reentered the hospital, Olaf had started his announcement. Causing the middle orphan to begin a new full-out panic attack.

“Attention!” Mattathias announced. “Attention! Attention! This is Dr. Mattathias Medical-School, Head of Human Resources and Hospital Administration. I have nothing to do with party planning. I am canceling the remainder of the hospital inspections. We have found what we were looking for,” There was a pause as Mattathias moved away from the microphone, and as Klaus and Sunny listened in, they could hear the faint, faint noise of triumphant, high-pitched villainous laughter coming from the Head of Human Resources. His laughter caused Klaus to shake harder as Sunny demanded for Klaus to put her down.

“He...he sees us,” Klaus cried looking around frantically for cameras.

“Doubtful,” Sunny said.

“Excuse me,” Mattathias continued, when his giggling fit was over. “To continue please be aware that one of the murderous orphans, Klaus...I mean Klyde Baudelaire has been spotted in the hospital alongside his kidnap victim, Sun-I mean Susan. If you see any children whom you recognize from The Daily Punctilio, please capture them and give them to the most stylish nurse you can find. Thank you.” Olaf stopped talking and began to laugh once more until the children could hear the voice of Esme Squalor whispering, ‘darling, you forgot to turn off the intercom.” Then there was an eerie click, and everything was silent.

“He...he sees us,” Klaus repeated as Sunny gripped his hand and pulled him into the closest, empty room she could find. Even though the kids were now inside the hospital and no longer outside in the cold, the middle orphan shivered nonetheless as he processed Olaf’s words. Once both siblings were inside and she knew it was entirely empty, Sunny closed the door behind the two siblings as Klaus began to cry again. “Sunny...now I know I can’t do this! They’re going to find us...someone is going to recognize us and hand us over to them…” He sat down on the floor, avoiding eye contact with his younger sister as he tried to calm himself down from his second panic attack that day.

“We can’t give up,” she told him stubbornly as she placed a hand on Violet’s locket. Her eyes lit up with an idea. She carefully took the locket from around her neck and placed it into Klaus’ hands.

Klaus looked up at Sunny as he shook where he sat. He looked down at the locket in his hands and felt like he wanted to sob uncontrollably once more thinking of Violet. “What do you expect me to do with this?” he asked her. “She gave it to you...she knew what she was doing, Sunny. She gave this to you cause she knew...she knew they’d get her,”

Sunny pressed her finger on the heart-shaped locket. “Mama,” she said pointing at the locket.

Klaus sighed. “You’re right, Sunny. Violet said she always looks at the picture of Mom that her father put in here whenever she’s too stressed,”

“And she said she keeps it near her heart,” Sunny reminded him. “So maybe you should wear it and then opened it up,”

Klaus chuckled at his little sister’s logic. “I don’t think it works specifically like that,”

“Hair ribbon,” Sunny pointed out.

“Yes, I know she has a lot of weird routines,” Klaus commented, his breathing regulating.

Klaus rolled his eyes as he opened the locket. His eyes widening in surprise as he glanced at two pictures that Violet had in her locket. Klaus had opened the locket to the expectation that his mother would be the only face staring back at him. But as he opened Violet’s heart-shaped locket not only was he met with a picture of his mother staring back at him but for a mere moment, it felt as though Klaus was looking into a mirror. Like his reflection had been caught inside the locket as well. He shifted the locket slightly to the right to see if the image in front of him would change like a reflection of a mirror would. But to his surprise, it didn’t. The image of himself and Sunny stayed the same.

“What?” Sunny asked, confused as to why her brother was staring at Violet’s locket in surprised silence.

Klaus motioned her to come around and see what he was seeing. Sunny walked to where she could see the contents of her older sister's locket and she gave a small smile. “That’s us!” she said happily pointing at the second picture that resided in Violet’s locket.

Klaus chuckled and rolled his eyes at his sister’s statement as if he couldn’t tell that the second picture was a picture of them. As he held the locket closely, he slowly took out the photograph of himself and Sunny, examining it closely. Two of the corners were badly burned and the photo’s remaining edges had been either cut or folded in a desperate attempt to make the photo fit into the locket. Klaus wondered where in the world Violet would have gotten a picture of them. Klaus turned to Sunny, letting her examine the photograph as he tried to remember what Violet had said about her locket.

“Sunny…”

“It’s us, Klaus,” Sunny said tracing the burned edges gently with her small finger. “She has a picture of us in her locket.” Sunny was smiling like crazy. “Do you know what this means?”

Klaus looked from the photo of their mother holding what he presumed to be baby Violet since the baby was wrapped snug in a purple blanket with the initials V.B. sewn on the corner. He sighed as he glanced over to the photo that Sunny was now holding and hugging. “No, Sunny...What does it mean?” he asked. His heart aching because he missed his big sister.

“It means she keeps us close...to her heart,” Sunny explained. “Cause it’s a picture of...us and it’s in a heart locket and when she wears it, it lands right on her,”

“Her heart,” Klaus finished in a saddened tone.

Sunny, out of curiosity, flipped over the photo because she knew sometimes with photographs the owners would write something on the back of it. Her face lit up with a smile as she found something written in Violet’s curvy cursive handwriting. Sunny tried to read what Violet had written but she was not very good at reading cursive. She tapped her brother’s shoulder. “Wazzit say?” she asked curiously, shoving the photo back into his hands.

“ My little brother, Klaus Baudelaire and my baby sister, Sunny Baudelaire. The only stars that shine within my grey and stormy sky. The best thing to happen to me after Mr. Lemon’s death. I love these two to the moon and back. I’d give my life for them. -V.S.” He read aloud to Sunny, choking on his tears as guilt washed over him. How could he ever suggest leaving her? As he finished reading the small paragraph Violet had written in the middle of the photograph. He was not only crying because of how her words or her mere action of putting the photo of him and Sunny in her locket had affected him. He was crying because he was scared, he was terrified. He had his doubts. He was crying because he felt guilty and he felt as though he was drowning in regret from how he’s treated Violet even if it wasn’t always intentional to how he had wanted to leave her even if his intentions had no malice. But the main reason he was crying is that he desperately missed his big sister. He just wanted her to hug him and make it feel all better like Sunny kept trying to do. And despite Sunny’s effort, which was helping Klaus more than Sunny would believe, he still felt like he needed Violet. He needed his rock, his hero. He didn’t know how to be her and he definitely didn’t know how to be like their mother and he had twelve years of being raised by their mother and yet, both Violet and Sunny who had spent a significantly less amount of time with her seemed to have more qualities that were Beatrice-esque than he did. Sure, when you looked at Klaus, you can tell he was a mix of both his parents. You could see the Beatrice in him. But you couldn’t hear it. You wouldn’t be able to see it with his actions which is what had Klaus worried. He had no idea how he and Sunny were going to save their older sister from Olaf. He desperately wished that Violet was with him right now, able to give him a clever idea that he would slightly doubt but still go with it because it’s Violet and anything she said always had a way of sounding plausible even if logic suggested otherwise.

He thought of how scared and alone she must feel. He tried to block out any and all thoughts of what Olaf could be doing to his sister right now. He hoped if he had done anything it was nothing as bad as what he, himself, endured back when he and Sunny were placed in Olaf’s custody, although he had his fears that something a lot worse could be happening. He paced around slowly trying to think of a plan but all the could think about was how Violet had accepted him and Sunny with open arms and although Sunny had reciprocated this...he was beginning to feel as though, he hadn’t. And when he came to that realization, he hated a part of himself. He shook his head. “I’m a horrible person,” he muttered shamefully.

“No, you’re just scared.” Sunny explained, assuming that Klaus was merely talking about how he had suggested leaving and finding help even when he knew that that was a crazy idea that was highly flawed. “I’m scared, too. Violet’s probably just as scared as us.”

Klaus wiped his eyes. “I don’t mean my suggestion to leave her...although I feel bad about that, too. I mean…” Klaus sighed disappointedly at himself. “...how I must make her feel when I accidentally...exclude her. She’s over here putting our picture in her locket, sacrificing herself to Olaf, and...I can’t even remember to say ‘our sister’ when referring to you.”

“Don’t beat yourself up,” Sunny explained. “Do better.”

Klaus nodded his head. “I will do better. But first, we gotta save our big sister,”

Klaus slowly put Violet’s photo of her two younger siblings back into her locket and placed the locket safely around Sunny’s neck where Violet had wanted it. Sunny placed a hand over the locket and then looked back up to her brother. “Let’s save Violet!” she cheered happily.

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gellavonhamster · 5 years

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a simple life

gen || Bertrand Baudelaire/Beatrice Baudelaire/Lemony Snicket || skips from pre-canon to canon timeline

ao3 link || originally posted in Russian

Oh, if we led a simple life, For each my love I’d bear a child – For every man I cherished, Of each and every kind. – Veronica Dolina, Когда б мы жили без затей (Oh, If We Led a Simple Life)

“We need three children,” Beatrice announces suddenly. Lemony jerks up his head – the book he’s reading is not a most interesting one, but the volunteer who borrowed it from the library before him left a message in it by underlining certain sentences, and in his attempts to decipher it he’s managed to forget he’s not alone in the room. Beatrice keeps sewing just as if nothing had happened, and it seems like she isn’t expecting him to answer at all, but she would have hardly said it out loud if she had forgotten there was someone else in the room, like he did. So Lemony figures out he ought to answer; it’s only that he’s completely at a loss for words.

“I am sure you’ll be able to crawl in there yourself,” he finally says. Beatrice puts away her handiwork – a new jacket she’s sewing an extra stash pocket onto – and gives him a puzzled look.

“Crawl where? What do you even mean?”

“Into the gallery. I take it you’re talking about the Friday mission. I mean, Jacques has already made sure that the vent shaft is wide enough for an adult to get into – not an adult of my size, but yours easily. So there’s no need to involve any children. By the way, why must there be exactly three of them?”

Beatrice rolls her eyes, having finally figured out what he is talking about.

“I marvel at your logic, Mr. Snicket,” she says quizzically, but it’s a good-natured kind of quizzing. A strand of hair has got out of her hairdo and Lemony wants to tuck it behind her ear, but in order to do that he’d have to get off the couch and go to the other end of the room. So that is how old age creeps up on you, he thinks absent-mindedly – here he is, unable to make himself cross the room for the woman he loves, and he isn’t even twenty-five yet. “No, I’m not talking about the Friday mission. What I mean is that you! And me! And Bertrand! We need to have three children. That’s all I wanted to say.”

“All right,” Lemony agrees. It’s a dangerous topic for conversation, one related to plans for the future, and for the people of their lifestyle it is rather pointless, if not dangerous, to make such plans. But Beatrice has always spat upon danger – at least when her own life was concerned, not the lives of others. “Now?”

Beatrice laughs.

“No, not now, of course,” she says. Her look of slight perplexity tells Lemony she hasn’t really given much thought to when exactly that should happen. “Someday. When the circumstances will be right.”

(And when they would have been right? Especially for the three of them, as she used to dream back then? That remained one of the million questions he never found to be right or wrong because he never got the chance to pose these questions to her. Just like “Why didn’t you tell me everything at once?” Or “Did you really think I shall love you less once I learn what the two of you have done, as if I’ve never done any terrible things myself and thought there was no other way?” Or “Why did you read Anna Karenina to your son, and why did you teach your daughter to use makeup to draw scars on her face? So that one day they would walk the same path as we once did, or so that they would know it well enough to avoid it?” What was she thinking, his Beatrice, selfless and whimsical and reckless and ingenious, when she was putting her hand on her growing belly, lulling her children to sleep, remodelling her pregnancy dresses or donating them to charity shops, braiding Violet’s hair, packing lunches for school, going to the bank to speak with that insufferable bore Poe, hiding safety matches from her children – not because there were any particular memories related to fire, any very specific notoriety, but just because playing with matches is a dangerous thing to do? There were some things he knew for sure – such as that all her neighbours used to like her, that she was considered a good mother, that she always remained the loveliest woman in the world – but not the answers to all these questions.

And did she realize she turned out to be almost right? She and Bertrand had three children, and the boy looked so, so much like her. Of course, when he first saw the middle Baudelaire child in the photo, the first thing that caught his eye was glasses: Bertrand, for as long as he could remember him, always wore glasses as well; his glasses even were in the similar style. But the thick, dark, a little bit curly hair was hers, and so were the brown eyes, and so was the shape of the boy’s face. Did she ever remember that far-off jesting conversation while combing Klaus’s hair or fixing his tie, when she would cast a quick glance to the mirror and notice, without a doubt, how much her son looked like her? Or had that carefree day disappeared from her memory, forever gone where all those memories that bring nothing but dull pain should better go?

He hadn’t forgotten. Ever)

“In some ten minutes it will be ready,” Bertrand tells them as he enters the room. He wipes his hands on his apron and shifts his gaze from Beatrice to Lemony, curious. “What were you talking about?”

“Beatrice thinks we need three children,” Lemony says.

“Why three?”

“See,” Beatrice points at Bertrand theatrically, “he understood at once what I meant!”

“I have no idea what you meant, but I hope it’s the same thing as what I mean,” Bertrand sits down on a chair covered in a jumble of clothes – his own shirt, Beatrice’s cape, and Lemony’s jacket, or maybe Bertrand’s jacket, for Lemony wore it yesterday and noticed that it is tight in the shoulders. It’s easier for Bertrand and Beatrice to steal his clothes than for him to steal theirs; if they leave that jacket hanging on the chair, sooner or later Beatrice will take it too. “So why exactly three?”

“Why, so one would look like you, one like me, and one like Lemony.”

“And what shall we do if any of them take after none of us?” Lemony cannot resist asking. “Suppose one of them looks like…” the words “his grandparents” freeze on his tongue. At times he isn’t sure if he actually remembers his parents, or it is just his writer’s imagination painting their images based on what Jacques and Kit have told him. The moments he isn’t sure about that scare him: what shall be called into doubt next? The memories of their farm, of the games he used to play with his siblings before they were taken away, of the first books he had read and the first melodies he had learned? Beatrice hasn’t seen her parents for twenty years. Bertrand has never seen his.

“Give them up for adoption, naturally,” Bertrand says with a serious look, but in his eyes and in the corners of his mouth a smile is already emerging – the very smile Lemony loves so much.

(Oh no, he never forgot. How could he forget when each photo he carefully put into a folder, or pinned to the wall amid newspaper clippings and document copies, brought back the memories of that conversation? Three children – just as they discussed back then. And if Klaus Baudelaire looked just like his mother, then Sunny Baudelaire was a spitting image of her father. An uninitiated person could assume that it is too early to judge which parent the child looks like if the child in question has just recently started walking, but he just knew – even though Bertrand clearly was much older when they first met than his younger daughter was in all these photographs. Yet whether it was because Sunny Baudelaire was an unusual child in many respects, or because some features stay the same no matter the age (he refused to consider his own sentimentality as the possible reason), the facts stayed the same: the daughter looked remarkably like her father. The same smile – its shape has already been formed and promised to reach the ultimate likeness when the baby’s other teeth come through. And the bright blue eyes, and the fair hair – which must have been as soft as the one he used to run his fingers through many years ago.

Her father’s looks, and the name of the woman who… well, she did not bring both of them up, of course, that could hardly be counted as upbringing. For that matter, he wouldn’t have named the child after her, but that had not been up to him to decide: he had no chance whatsoever to participate in making that decision. Strange as it may be, he saw her in his dreams once or twice, eyeing him even more reproachfully that she always used to. Eyeing him the way that made him want to scream: yes, yes, I know what you’re going to say, it is I who should rather be dead, it was him who should have stayed alive, do you really believe I think otherwise? But it was no use screaming because it wouldn’t make him feel better, and that woman was long gone anyway. Even she was gone too.

And Sunny Baudelaire learned to cook early; just in case there was any need for another evidence of how much she resembled her father)

“Oh, screw you,” Beatrice waves him off. “I’m describing an ideal situation, get it? An i-de-al one!”

“I guess three children would be ideal indeed for our, hmm, situation,” Lemony observes. He thinks all this talk amusing, despite the topic lying close to dangerous grounds. It is an incredible stroke of serendipity to find a book that makes one feel as if it was written just for them, or a song that sounds as if it was their soul transformed into music, or even a dish one would like to keep ordering in each and every restaurant, knowing one shall never get enough of it. Yet the greatest luck possible is finding people that one can talk about anything with, spend as much time with as one can, and feel surely willing to spend one’s whole life like that, with them. Certainly there is a more appropriate word to describe this than ‘serendipity’ or ‘luck’, but for volunteers that is a dangerous ground too, and Lemony never says it out loud, keeps it in his mind like a dragon guarding a treasure, hoping that Beatrice and Bertrand do not need any words to understand how he feels.

“I hope you’re not suggesting there would be one child per each of us to raise,” Beatrice says. “Or we’re splitting the breastfeeding duties too.”

“I guess Snicket means that in case of divorce each of us could take one of the kids,” Bertrand suggests merrily.

Lemony salutes him. “Exactly. The question is how we’re going to split them up, should the need arise.”

“Ask each of them who they would like to stay with?”

“Out of question. Too progressive. It is the notions like thith,” Beatrice starts to lisp on purpose and both of them laugh as they understand at once which one of the older volunteers she’s mocking, “that are poisoning our society! No,” she continues in her normal voice, “I suggest we draw lots. Write their names on the slips of paper, put them in a hat, well, you know the drill.”

“And then you’ll be the one complaining when you don’t get the kid you like the most,” Bertrand winds her up. Beatrice takes a spool out of her sewing basket and hurls it at him.

“How dare you imply,” she says, her voice dramatically offended, “that I won’t love all our children.”

Bertrand, who has managed to catch the spool before it hit his forehead, smiles.

“Relax,” he says, placating. “I’m just messing with you. I do not doubt that you will. And I will love them all, too.”

“And so will Lemony,” Beatrice says. She sits back in her chair and looks at Lemony with a smile, and suddenly he realizes that despite all the jokes and hyperboles, this conversation is very serious and important.

“And so will I,” he says quietly. “With all my heart.”

(And then there were lies, libel, a hasty escape, accusations, letters, telegrams, a faked death, and then another one and another one and loneliness and stalking and the inability to simply call and say he missed them – and then death again. Not his anymore, but this time it was real. And there were manuscripts in thick envelopes and hiding places and safes, and there was the Editor’s tired voice on the phone, thirteen books and the smell of fresh printing ink, but there was no Beatrice and no Virgil – only memories. Like this one: just another ordinary evening, just another light-hearted conversation. Yes, absolutely light-hearted. What they were joking about back then could never come true, and if some parts of it did, then never completely. But there was something about the face of Violet Baudelaire that distinguished her both from her father and from her mother – never mind that she could be mistaken for Beatrice from afar, as confirmed by many guests who attended that horrible cancelled wedding; never mind that she used to tie her hair up with a ribbon just like Bertrand once used to.

Violet Baudelaire was fifteen years old. Fifteen years ago a lot of things used to be different.

He was afraid to study her face too closely)

#asoue #a series of unfortunate events #lemony snicket #beatrice baudelaire #bertrand baudelaire #lemonberry ice #my fic #snicketverse #gella talks snicketverse #idk if i like this but i wanted to write something about violet's parentage #also the epigraph is from a russian song and i translated it too and that's why it probably looks... clumsy

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agaypanic · 5 years

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A Little Too Much (Duncan Quagmire X Baudelaire!Reader)

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Summary: The Baudelaire children are staying in the jail cell in the Village of Foul Devotees. Y/N gets overwhelmed with all that's happened and her siblings comfort her, telling her that everything will be okay.

A/N: Song is A Little Too Much by Shawn Mendes

~~~

She would not show that she was afraid

But being and feeling alone was too much to face

Though everyone said that she was so strong

What they didn't know was that she barely carry on

Y/N Baudelaire felt hopeless as she became stuck in a jail cell with her two sisters and twin brother. Everyone around her was convinced that she was a strong and positive person, no matter what the situation was. But that was very incorrect.

The only reason Y/N seemed strong was because she felt that was her job when her siblings were feeling down. She felt that there had to be at least one person who could keep it together for the others. It was hard, but she did it anyways.

But she knew that she would be okay

So she didn't let it get in her way

Y/N always questioned why the things that were happening to her family and friends were happening. She wondered what they did to deserve it. But she knew that all things ended eventually, which meant that soon their despair would come to an end.

Sometimes it all gets a little too much

But you gotta realize that soon the fog will clear up

And you don't have to be afraid because we're all the same

And we know that sometimes it all gets a little too much

"Oh my goodness." Y/N muttered under her breath as Klaus and Violet wondered how to get out of their current dilemma. They turned to her with confused expressions.

"What is it?" Violet asked.

"Oh, nothing. I... I just remembered something. But it, it doesn't really matter right now." Y/N stood up and made her way to the barred window, looking out to see nothing but dryness.

"Y/N, what is it?" Klaus inquired, placing a comforting hand on his twin's shoulder. She turned around with a small frown displayed on her face.

"I uh, I just remembered that it's... it's our birthday. So, happy birthday womb mate." Y/N leaned into her brother's touch as he sighed.

"Happy birthday womb mate." He hugged her close and soon all the Baudelaire children had formed into a group hug.

Tears started to form in Y/N's eyes but she did her best to make them unknown to the others. They were going to be alright. She was sure of it.

And she would always tell herself she could do this

She would use no help, it would be just fine

But when it got hard, she would lose her focus

So take my hand, it will be alright

The Baudelaire children reflected on memories with their deceased parents and it made Y/N's effort to keep her tears hidden become nonexistent. Soon enough, tears softly ran down her cheeks.

"Hey, it's going to be okay, Y/N. We'll be okay." Klaus grabbed his twin's hand and rubbed his thumb against her knuckles in an attempt to calm her down.

"I just miss them." Y/N whispered. Violet and Klaus exchanged a look and sat Y/N down on the wooden bench in between them, placing Sunny in her lap.

"We miss them too Y/N." Violet said, wrapping an arm around her sister's shoulders. She never saw Y/N like this. Like all her negative feelings had been bottled up forever and suddenly flooded out. Violet never recalled seeing her little sister...

Broken.

And she knew that she would be okay

So she didn't let it get in her way

After a little while, Y/N's tears had come to an end and decided that they should try to formulate a plan to get out of the cell. After some thinking, Violet tied up her hair and got to work.

~Time skip to escaping the cell~

Sometimes it all gets a little too much

But you gotta realize that soon the fog will clear up

And you don't have to be afraid because we're all the same

And we know that sometimes it all gets a little too much

The Baudelaire children ran to the Fowl Fountain that they were directed to by Isadora Quagmire's couplets. They tried to figure out a way to release the two Quagmire triplets but they came up with nothing.

"Klaus, can I see the couplets?" Y/N stretched her hand out where Klaus placed the papers. She scanned through them before an idea popped into her brain.

"Violet, I need you to lift Sunny in the air so she can reach the Fowl's head. Sunny, I need you to press on one of the eyes of the bird. I don't know which so try both." Y/N instructed. Violet and Sunny did as she said.

After pressing the eye, Violet and Sunny back away from the bird as it started to open up. Inside was Duncan and Isadora.

They ran out of the cramped space and in front of the Baudelaires. Before either party could speak, Y/N wrapped her arms around Duncan and he happily returned the hug.

"I thought I wouldn't see you again." Y/N whispered in Duncan's ear, blinking away happy tears. Duncan ran a hand through her hair and kissed her briefly.

"You can't get rid of me that easily." Y/N smiled up at him.

"I'm glad."

#a series of unfortunate events #duncan quagmire #duncan quagmire x reader #asoue #asoue x reader #agaypanic

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thecloserkin · 5 years

Text

fic rec: Dante’s Stars by Pretani

fandom: A Series of Unfortunate Events

pairing: Violet Baudelaire/Klaus Baudelaire

word count: 94k, complete

Is it canon: Yes

Is it explicit: Yes

Is it endgame: Yes

Is it shippable: I’m fucking crying it’s so beautiful

Bottom line: The one and only Violet/Klaus epic, read it and bawl your eyes out (def read the warnings first tho)

It’s a canon-divergence AU where the Baudelaires stage their own deaths to escape Count Olaf. In canon the three Baudelaire orphans—inventor Violet, bookworm Klaus, and baby Sunny—are hounded from guardian to guardian by cartoonish villain Olaf, who will stop at nothing to get his hands on their fortune. Olaf murders or incapacitates every single adult who spares two seconds of sympathy for these kids, leaving a wide swathe of destruction in his wake. In this fic the Baudelaires have decided to wipe the slate clean and assume new identities.

I have mentioned in the past how salty I am about the Baudelaires’ characters being sidelined for Snicket the narrator, Olaf the villain, and/or sundry other bit-players (in the Netflix show the Henchperson of Indeterminate Gender p much steals every scene they’re in). In canon we’re not really privy to the kids’ inner lives. This fic avoids that pitfall by sticking with tightly focused third-person Violet and Klaus POVs.

The thing this fic does really well is instill a pervasive sense of dread/paranoia which is remarkable because for the first 25% absolutely nothing ominous happens. The orphans get taken in by a slightly addled, very nice old lady and they just … live in her house. For free. While she cooks for them. And every morning Violet and Klaus hook up in her barn.

Ok back up so the ship they’re passengers on goes down in a storm, all hands lost, the Baudelaires are presumed drowned with the rest. Which is positively providential. The first event of any import to occur is that Klaus swipes some cash from a dead man’s wallet. Violet has ethical qualms but Klaus quashes them by pointing out that Sunny’s starving:

”I’d do anything for her,” he said. “Even become a thief or a murderer.”

Then his dark eyes found Violet’s. “I’d do it for you, too.”

So on the one hand I think this is rather extra. I mean, what possible use could a dead man have had for that money? Money that could put actual food in Sunny’s stomach. The Baudelaires are keenly aware that justice does not equal unquestioning obedience to authority and I think their exposure to a raft of tyrannical and unjust authority figures has hammered that home. They’re down with bending the rules because they know the rules are never even-handedly applied anyway (ie. the show trial at Hotel Denouement, the farcical final exam at Prufrock Academy). On the other hand I remember how uneasy they felt about stealing Hal’s keys in Hostile Hospital, and that was barely a misdemeanor! A friend of mine astutely pointed out how Violet is always trying to behave in any given situation the way their parents would have wished, whereas Klaus takes a pragmatic approach: do whatever keeps his sisters safe. And that is a very interesting contrast and one I want to see explored further.

They get on a train. Things that happen: Klaus notices when Violet is down in the dumps or angry or upset or in this case, wistfully jealous of other people who lead “normal” lives, bustling all around them. He’s not in love with her yet but noticing is the first step. Violet atm is super focused on being the elder sister, the adult in the room, the One In Charge. They get off the train and as soon as they blow into town Violet gets catcalled and propositioned. One of the themes of this fic is the horrendous baseline level of violence against women, some of it normalized and casual like the catcalling. The Big Bad Villain of the piece is literally a guy who’s murdered multiple girlfriends on account of them fridging his ass, since he appears to think that women owe him sex. And this man’s driving ambition is to add Violet to his list of conquests.

So often, men treated her as little more than an object … Klaus was different. He saw her, the woman she was inside.

HOW COULD SHE NOT FALL FOR HIM?? Is there another man she could learn to trust enough to fall in love with? However I’m getting ahead of the story. Klaus is still in the phase where he’s awakening to his attraction to Violet:

She was mother and sister, soft skin and tender strength, and he hid his face in her neck. Like a child, she rocked him gently, cradling his head.

I have to protect her, even if it’s from myself.

He couldn’t take this, his brave, beautiful sister, so near … the knowledge of what those men wanted to do to her. I”ll kill them … And what he wanted …

God but it kills me, Klaus thinking that his attraction to Violet is as noxious as those vile men and their rapacious stares. Klaus himself otoh is president of the Violet Baudelaire Fan Club. The contrast could not be more marked. Look at him building her up when she’s about ready to to give up on picking a lock because she’s lost her hair ribbon:

”I’m done, Klaus. I don’t have anything else to give”. ”Vi … “ he was pleading, willing her to believe in herself again, because he did. “You’re a brilliant inventor,” he told her. “It’s who you are. Nothing can take that away. You don’t need your ribbon.”

The unwarranted parallel that he draws between himself and a bunch of sexual predators is the source of so much angst and pining:

Is that what I am? A pervert?

She’ll blame herself for this

Well, well, well, if it isn’t ye olde I’m-Leaving-Her-For-Her-Own-Good-Lest-My-Perverted-Attraction-To-Her-Despoil-Her-Innocence. I am absolute trash for it every time, film at 11.

”I love you, Vi … I’m in love with you.” He said it like he was confessing to a crime, and she wanted to scream, to laugh and cry all at once.

THEIR LOVE IS A CRIME!!! Could these babies be more pure??

They’d always had an extraordinary connection. It was the reason for their seamless partnership, their ability to support one another … But now, the bond that had kept them alive was killing him. How could anything ever be right again?

”Vi, I’m sorry … I want to be your brother, but I can’t … I want to be more than that … I don’t know what to do.” ”Kiss me,” she said, “and be both.”

THATS IT THATS A WRAP I CAN NOW DIE HAPPY. That “kiss me and be both” is PERFECTION.

And she knew she’d never willingly give herself to anyone but him.

she’d loved him even then. Who could tell when they had crossed the line? It was already too late.

cross the line what line??? they were made for each other.

”You know, we missed the sunrise,” he said, nose to nose with his sister.

Violet and Klaus carve an extra hour out of their morning to go make out in the barn. I shit you not these kids spend a whole month without progressing past first base because Klaus doesn’t want to “pressure” Violet into anything she’s not ready for. Violet, for her part, is beginning to suspect there’s something wrong with her person; why hasn’t he even tried to take her top off? Thank you #Patriarchy for teaching us that desirability is the measure of a woman’s worth. God they are so thirsty. This bitch almost fell over the first time he touched her tits:

“Vi,” he spoke into her hair, voice breaking. “Tell me you don’t want this. Tell me to —“ But she only titled her head, to meet his mouth in a feverish kiss.

So Klaus and Sunny are having a snow fight and Violet tugs her glove off to tousle his hair and it’s THE SEXIEST THING I’VE EVER SEEN BYE. True story after I read this fic I legitimately thought that “Vi” was a pet name Klaus called her by in canon, and when I finally finished the books much much later and realized that it wasn’t—well, it should have been.

There is a fairy tale about a princess who disguises herself in the skin of a donkey to escape the attentions of her lecherous father the king. Violet and Sunny discuss it. Violet points out that rape is wrong because rape is rape, because it is coercive, not because it’s incest. I love it when fic highlights the fairytale parallels to the Baudelaires’ situation, and I feel like Donkeyskin was such a spot-on choice because it’s all about surviving sexual assault and learning to make oneself vulnerable again afterwards? Klaus is the prince who sees through her disguise and falls head over heels in love with her CHANGE MY MIND. On the subject of happily ever after:

”Is that what you think I want? A fairytale? A walk down the aisle in a white dress?" He felt a lump forming in his throat. "Most girls think about those things, don't they?" "I don't," she told him. "I prefer not to. And as for children…well…I love them. That's why I don't want any of my own … how selfish would I be, to bring another little life into this? Another hostage they could use against us. Imagine how awful it would be if…" She shook her head. "No children… not ever. I couldn't protect them." And she turned to him with a soft look. "It's no sacrifice, Klaus. Not for me. I've already been through a… a wedding, you know." He felt her shudder, and she averted her eyes. "I won't be sorry if I never see another wedding dress again."

My dudes, when you have children each and every one of them is a hostage to fortune because of course they are. Also, Violet’s traumatized by the whole idea of being a bride, after going through the wringer of her fake wedding to Olaf. Olaf put Sunny in a cage to compel her compliance, and that’s what the Big Bad in this fic does too. He says things like “You’re a sick little bitch, aren’t you? Spreading your legs for your own brother” which turns their beautiful relationship into this ugly depraved thing to be ashamed of. I mean, this guy was literally a voyeur who would watch them from his hidey-hole while they were being intimate?? My god I would feel so unclean. And the worst part is, he overheard them calling each other by their real names not their aliases, so now he knows who they are and since the Baudelaires are still on the lamb this is bad. It gets pretty dark pretty fast.

“He won't want you anymore! No one's gonna want you when we're done!"

So he kidnaps and rapes Violet. Klaus and Sunny rescue her, dispatch the villain (Klaus’s earlier “I’d do anything” for his sisters, including becoming “a thief or a murderer,” acquires sudden resonance), and that’s when fucking Count Olaf shows up!!!! These kids just cannot catch a break. Turns out the Big Bad was actually working for Count Olaf all along. Olaf’s plan is still the same plan from The Bad Beginning where he plotted to steal the Baudelaire fortune by marrying Violet. Since Count Olaf has never in his life paid a henchman a salary, he was keeping the Big Bad sweet by promising to let him ravish Violet first. Let the full enormity of that sink in. Oh wait a minute Olaf isalso bent on knocking Violet up asap so the union can’t be dissolved on non-consummation grounds, or somesuch:

"You look at me as if I were a usurper, boy, about to steal something of yours. Tell me…" He gestured at Violet. "Is she yours?"

Why would you do this to me??????? This is so, so painful. Olaf uses an electric cattle prod on Klaus and makes Violet watch??? It’s ok though the Baudelaires prevail in the end, and emerge from the bloodstained ordeal as the family they are. My kink will forever be Violet and Klaus praising each other’s bravery and resourcefulness. They! Are! So! Proud! and! Supportive! Of! Each! Other! This line from earlier in the fic gets me every time:

I’ve failed them. This was his greatest fear, worse than death or any torment fate could devise. In his head, he imagined the struggle, saw his girls beaten and shot, felt each blow and bullet as if his own body were the target instead.

Klaus Baudelaire laying down his own body between the world and his sisters is really the only thing I care about:

And then her gaze fell to the marred canvas of his body.

I bet his back is a mess of burn marks ugh. Four weeks after Violet’s discharged from the hospital (practical Violet made sure to get the green light from the medical professionals) they finally have sex again, which is a relief—after the rape they were both hesitant to initiate sex because she thought she was damaged goods and he thought she wanted space? Silly kids. Oh and and here they are being mistaken by strangers for a pair of lovebirds:

One of the women sighed dreamily. "Did you ever see a more likely pair of turtledoves?" "Of course not," Mr. Poe sputtered, dabbing his brow with a handkerchief. "The very idea!" And he excused himself hurriedly, to make some phone calls. "Don't be silly," said the other. "They're siblings. Haven't you heard? … They're the Baudelaire orphans." "Well, I daresay," the first one went on, "anyone would've taken them for sweethearts."

I CANNOT WITH THESE TWO

The Baudelaires finally, finally come into their fortune free and clear. They put on their parents’ wedding rings and move to Canada. A cat (!!!) leaves baby Beatrice II in a basket outside their front door, and that completes their family. Nobody deserves good things more than these kids, and this fic ends exactly where it ought, describing “a rural life of moral simplicity.”

I read this fic years ago and it was w i l d rereading it again, thanks for coming along for the ride. If anyone wants to scream/cry about this fic in particular, or Violet and Klaus in general, feel free to send me an ask or message me ANYTIME

#fic rec #asoue #violet x klaus #Baudelairecest

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rorykillmore · 5 years

Text

okay ignoring the fact that this is technically a couple of hours late because my day’s been so busy, AND the fact that jemi doesn’t even have a tumblr anymore, i’m posting her birthday fic here because this is where i post all my writing stuff anyway and i figure it’s a pretty easily accessible place since i’ll tag it

SO JEMI HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!!! while we don’t talk AS much as we used to anymore, it really does mean a lot to me that we’ve kept in touch and still find dumb memes to send each other and horror movie discourse to complain a bout and stuff to stream together when both of our schedules allow for it. you’re one of my oldest internet friends and it still always brightens up my day just to get to talk to you for a little while.

considering you’re getting your Pup tomorrow (which i am so excited for you are going to be the BEST DOG MOM) i know this can’t possibly top your list of birthday gifts but listen, it’s the “what if esme squalor became the baudelaires’ weird villainous aunt” au you asked for ages ago, so i figure it at least might be close,

“I’ve had enough of this very confusing romantic drama we’re stuck in the middle of,” said the Man With a Beard But No Hair.

“Keep her.”

“What?” asked Klaus, feeling his heart sink.

“What?” asked Violet, her blood running cold for reasons that had nothing to do with the weather.

“Excusez-moi?” asked Esme, scandalized and in French.

Count Olaf gave the Baudelaires an unfriendly smile. “It seems like a fair trade to me.”

“A fair trade?” Esme repeated as Violet and Klaus exchanged a stunned look. “Me for a baby?”

“To be fair, that baby is worth millions,” The Hook-Handed Man pointed out from the sidelines.

Esme shot him a look of loathing. “You can’t put a price on perfection. And if you could, you’d have to tally up the accumulative cost of my wardrobe, which I’m pretty sure amounts to --”

“Wait.” Violet, who normally would have found interrupting a person mid-sentence to be very impolite, couldn’t help herself given the circumstances. She stared at Olaf incredulously. “This is your girlfriend.”

“Who you claim to love,” Klaus added.

Count Olaf shrugged. “I can always get another one. I mean, look at me.” Oblivious to the Henchperson of Indeterminate Gender muttering‘don’t flatter yourself’ behind him, he continued, “Besides, you orphans would never kill anyone yourselves. It’s your own miserable bad luck that claims the lives of the people around you. I suppose I might have to worry about Esme dying in a fire, or something, but I can live with that.”

“Voldemort,” Sunny chirped judgmentally, which meant something like ‘Actually, you’ve been directly responsible for the deaths of most of the people we’ve cared about’.

“I resent that comparison,” said Count Olaf, smoothing a hand through his hair. “Anyway, I only need one orphan to get the Baudelaire fortune, and I definitely don’t need a significant other, so. Keep her. I was trying to figure out how to break up with her anyway.”

“No one,” Esme ground out dangerously, jabbing a finger in Olaf’s direction. “Breaks up with me. I’m breaking up with you! This relationship is Out, just like the pathetic remnants of your acting career!”

“Hey,” put in the Hook-Handed Man, wounded. “That’s technically a shot at all of us.”

Count Olaf merely shrugged again. “As they say in show business: thank you, next.”

While everyone tried to process that, Violet and Klaus exchanged another glance. If their bluff being called and their baby sister remaining in danger hadn’t been enough, now they were stuck in the middle of some very confusing romantic drama.

“I’ve had enough of this very confusing romantic drama we’re stuck in the middle of,” said the Man With a Beard But No Hair.

The Woman With Hair But No Beard pursed her lips in agreement. “You’ve made your choice, Olaf. Now, get rid of these stragglers and put the baby somewhere safe. The Snow Scouts will be here any moment.”

“No!” cried Klaus.

“I’m too young to die!” Esme protested. “Kill Quimby first!”

“Quigley,” Quigley corrected her, simultaneously reminding everyone he was present.

“And you’re not killing him first,” Violet added firmly. “You’re not killing anyone first.”

Esme rolled her eyes at her. “Oh please, darling. Your little middle school romance is awkwardly contrived at best. You won’t miss him.”

“Look who’s talking,” said Violet under her breath. Quigley just looked uncomfortable.

“Enough of this,” Count Olaf interrupted dismissively. “Baby orphan, get over here this instant.” There was a silent pause. “...Baby orphan?”

Everyone looked around. Where was Sunny? The group’s alternating confusion, contemplation, and consternation was interrupted, however, by the unmistakable sound of obnoxious children ascending the mountain in unform.

“The Snow Scouts!” Violet gasped, wheeling to face to the mountain path and the approaching aura of undeniable smugness that could only mean that Carmelita Spats was in the lead.

“Stop!” Klaus shouted as the other children came into view. “It’s a trap!”

Carmelita paused, recognizing the siblings with visible disdain. “That sounds like a lie a cakesniffer would come up with to ruin my celebration.”

“Technically,” Quigley began. “False Spring isn’t really --”

“MY celebration,” Carmelita insisted, raising her voice to drown him out.

“Oh, well aren’t you adorable?” Esme remarked, momentarily distracted from her existential angst.

“Yes,” Count Olaf was suspiciously quick to agree. “Adorable! Why don’t you and your friends move a little closer so I can get a better look at your adorable little squirrel-like features.”

“Carmelita, surely you can see that he’s lying!” Violet, who liked Carmelita Spats less than she liked several contagious diseases, still couldn’t help but feel obligated to step in. “The trap is right there on the ground in plain sight!”

“I told you not to address me, cakesniffer.” Carmelita actually had done no such thing, but the request had been implicit. She glanced from Violet, to Count Olaf, to the rest of the various henchpeople and orphans assembled. “My fellow Snow Scouts and I are going to carry on our annual celebration as scheduled. The rest of you have two and a half minutes to clear the area.”

“But the path down the mountain is treacherous,” Klaus protested, using a word which here means ‘only a slightly better option than staying on a mountaintop with a variety of extremely unpleasant people’. “If we try to rush down in only two in a half minutes, someone could get seriously injured.”

“If we try to rush down in only two in a half minutes, someone could get seriously injured,” Carmelita mimicked childishly, an unfortunate habit she must have picked up from her former vice principal. “Does that LOOK like my PROBLEM? Snow Scouts, puh-LEASE assume your positions.”

The Snow Scouts stepped onto the parachute that had been laid out for them.

A whistle blew.

“Wait --!” Violet cried out, but it was too late.

Following the cue they had been given, a convocation of eagles swooped down from the sky in unison to clasp the edges of the parachute in their talons.

Count Olaf looked on approvingly. “You know, I never thought training birds for such a weirdly specific purpose would come in handy.”

The Snow Scouts began to scream and struggle uselessly as they were lifted into the air, caught in the makings of a trap they had only been warned about several times previously. Violet, Klaus, and Quigley lunged forward, but the birds were rising too fast --

And then the familiar, terrible whistling of a harpoon gun being fired filled their ears. The harpoon’s point sailed through the air almost gracefully and struck its target without fanfare.

One of the eagles dropped from the sky, and each and every one of the Snow Scouts came tumbling down into the snow after it.

“Bingo!” crowed Esme, hoisting her harpoon gun over her shoulder.

“I think she means ‘bullseye’,” Quigley said under his breath. The others were a little too stunned to correct her.

“Esme!” Violet found her voice at last. “You could’ve gotten the Snow Scouts hurt!”

“You did get one of the eagles hurt, and that’s animal cruelty!” pointed out the Hook-Handed Man.

“Where were you even keeping that harpoon gun? There’s nowhere in that outfit you could have hidden it,” Klaus couldn’t help but focus on the logistics, furrowing his brow in confusion.

“Never,” Esme told him, brandishing the weapon carelessly in his direction. “Underestimate the power of fashion.”

There was a slight pause.

“We’ll have to unpack that later,” Count Olaf said. “Esme, what do you think you’re doing? You’re ruining our plan!”

“Oh, our plan?” Esme swung the harpoon gun in his direction now. “Our plan?!”

In the background, Carmelita began to wail at the top of her lungs. She hadn’t actually been injured in the fall, but she had been dealt a serious blow to her dignity. Like a hivemind, the rest of the Snow Scouts began to follow suit, and soon the mountain air was filled with the crying of petulant children who had narrowly avoided a traumatic experience.

“Now look what you’ve done!” Count Olaf exclaimed furiously. “Normally, the sound of crying babies is music to my ears, but I never wanted this.”

“Oh, I relate to them on a level I didn’t even know I was emotionally capable of.” Esme took a threatening step towards him, her weapon still trained. Olaf, finally sensing the peril he was in, took a slow step back.

“Esme, think about what you’re doing --”

“It’s a bit late for that, snookums.”

“Wait,” Quigley broke in this time. “As much as I hate to agree with Count Olaf of all people, this time, he’s right. You don’t have to get more blood on your hands to show him that you’re better off without him.”

Esme stopped in her tracks and looked wonderingly at Quigley. Slowly, calculatingly, her gaze drifted to Violet and Klaus, who stared back at her uncomfortably.

“Come to think of it,” she mused slowly. “Quadarius just might have a point.”

“Quigley.”

“You see, if I kill you, it will only actually hurt you and give me satisfaction for a few short minutes.” Esme turned back to Olaf, a slow grin spreading across her face. “Thankfully, I’ve just thought up a much more In way of making you suffer forever.”

Count Olaf stared at her dubiously. “Forever?”

“Forever.” Esme let the statement linger importantly for a moment. “After all, what could be a more terrible blow to your ego and your trust than my joining up with your worst enemies?”

“What?” Olaf spluttered.

“What?!” Violet and Klaus echoed in unison.

“Wow,” Carmelita Spats abruptly stopped crying to chime in. “Didn’t see that one coming.”

“Orphans!” Esme turned to face them with a flourish. “Wonderful news! You are now my hostages!”

Her proclamation was met with nonplussed silence.

“Wait, no, that’s not what I meant.” Esme cleared her throat and tried again. “You may now consider us allies!”

Violet, Klaus, and Quigley still didn’t know how to respond.

“Friends?” Esme tried again. “Or, I don’t know, I hate you a little less now?”

“Only because you hate him more,” Violet pointed out, with a nod to Count Olaf.

Esme laid a hand reassuringly on Violet’s shoulder. “And what are the most formidable and time-tested friendships founded on, if not a mutual hatred of men?”

Quigley and Klaus exchanged a worried look.

Dissatisfied with the reception her abruptly decided redemption arc was getting, Esme rolled her eyes. “Oh, come on, it’s not as though you can afford to be picky. I mean, how many quirky yet fashionable parental figures do you have that are even still alive?”

“Enough of this!” Count Olaf snarled, recovering from his shock. With Esme distracted yet still within reasonable proximity, he snatched the harpoon gun from her hands and pointed it at his slowly growing group of adversaries. “Fine. I don’t care if you do switch sides. You can die with the rest of them as far as I’m concerned. Any last words?”

Esme opened her mouth, no doubt having dramatically prepared some in case she ever came face to face with death, but someone else beat her to it.

“Rosebud!” Sunny said, and shoved the sled she had spent the past five minutes smuggling into position at her siblings and Quigley. Reacting on instinct, they all hurried to climb aboard as Olaf and Esme stood gaping in surprise.

Esme recovered first. “Wait!” she screeched. “You’re not leaving me behind after I risked everything to pledge my allegiance to you brats!”

“I mean --” Klaus started to argue, and then sighed exhaustedly instead. There wasn’t time. “Just hurry up and climb on.”

Esme rushed over and slung her legs over the back of the sled, forcing everyone in front of her into an uncomfortably cramped position, although everyone knows that sledding is never particularly comfortable to begin with. “Wait,” she said again suddenly. “Can we take a moment, I want to come up with a really biting one-liner --”

“Let’s go!” Violet urged, and they plunged the sled over the edge of the mountain.

“But the baby got one!” Esme’s voice lifted in pitch to demonstrate her indignation. “What did she even mean by Roseb --” But her question was cut off in an echoing scream as they hurtled down the cliff, leaving Sunny’s real meaning unexplained -- and the ending of Citizen Kane unspoiled.

“No!” Count Olaf shouted fruitlessly after them, both furious that the Baudelaires had escaped his grasp once again, humiliated that his girlfriend had left him, and awkwardly stuck in the position of having no idea how to react to the insanity that had just happened.

“Hey, boss, cheer up,” the Hook-Handed Man offered gingerly. “At least there’s still the Snow Scouts.”

Fists clenched at his sides, Olaf took a slow breath, reminding himself of his original plan. “Yes,” he agreed shortly. “Yes, that -- wait. Has the air seemed suspiciously quiet of the wailing of miserable children to you?”

He and the Hook-Handed Man turned to look. The Snow Scouts had already started off on their own escape, on foot, back down the mountainside. The only one left standing in the clearing --

-- Was a belligerently grinning Carmelita Spats.

“Look on the bright side, County!” she said, sickeningly sweet, and Count Olaf felt a strange twinge of dread. “At least you still have me!”

It was going to be a long rest of the series.

#look i dont even know what this is honestly #i tried for a vaguely lemony snicket-esque writing style and it just turned out kind of crackfic-y but i had a blast #also i started off intending to make fun of quigley but he just kind of turned into a mood #HAPPY BIRTHDAY AGAIN JEMI #fic

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eslaf-endgame-blog · 5 years

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If only our smiles would stay pt 9;

A Snicket family story

The life of the Baudelaire orphans had been complicated, confusing and conflicting. But in this moment they were almost as scared as ever. Of course, nobody could ever replace their biological parents, (or Violets first adoptive father,) but the Snicket family came close. The Baudelaire-Quagmire-Snickets had been tossed around from guardian to guardian seemingly uncared for. Of course, some people like Dr.Montgomery Montgomery or Jerome Squalor ment well, but failed in some way. However, when Olivia Snicket (then Caliban of course,) first met the children she knew there was something special. Being an orphan herself, she related to them on a way nobody else ever had. And Jacques protected them, and cheated death (twice) to find them. They were a happy family that never cried, felt sad, or alone. Except for the moment which they were in right now. Yes, the Baudelaire-Quagmire-Snickets felt alone. As they rode in their Aunt Jacquelyn’s car they felt an impending sense of dread. Was it that their mother was seriously hurt? Was it that Count Olaf could be lurking around with nefarious plots? Or was it that they were so used to loss, that they felt numb?

The City-The Hospital

Jacques Snicket speedily parked the taxi, inches away from smashing another car. He then opened the back door and picked up his youngest daughter Sunny, and put her in a baby carrier backpack thing, that he wore. Sunny always traveled in the backpack, never leaving her fathers side. They tried to have her go with her Aunt Jacquelyn, but when Jacquelyn tried to leave Sunny screamed and jumped out of the car window, running to her parents. She was unharmed, but her parents were afraid to leave her with someone who was not them. Jacques then walked around the other side of the car, to pick up his wife Olivia. He had insisted she lie down during the car ride, as the seatbelt would dig into her shoulder. He closed the car door, and ran into the “Emergency” section of the hospital. They had taken off her bandages before they left home, so the hospital staff would take Olivia as soon as they saw her. A nefarious thing for a noble reason. Jacques ran in, carrying Olivia. He approached a member of staff and explained Olivia’s injuries. Before he knew it, she was being rushed through halls on a portable bed thing. Thankfully, he was allowed to stay with her.

Jacquelyn’s house

Jacquelyn Scieszka was doing her best to make the children feel better. It was almost one o’clock, so Jacquelyn decide to make the children lunch. Most of them did not eat, but Violet and Duncan were able to take a few bites of their food. “Thank you, Aunt Jacquelyn.” Violet said gratefully. Jacquelyn smiled at her, and gave her a hug. “Everything will be ok Violet.” She said, in her no nonsense way. She cleared her throat speaking to all the Children. “Children, there are beds set up for you upstairs, and many new books that I’m sure you would enjoy. Go, get some rest.” She smiled comfortingly. Usually, the children loved their Aunt Jacquelyn, and never passed up the opportunity to see her. This time, it was different. Violet and Isadora remember fun sleepovers they had had at this house, and the boys remembered Gustav and extensive scholarly knowledge. The six small beds in two rooms were today three on one bed, two on the other. In the room.

The City-The Hospital

“Everything looks fine Mrs.Snicket.” Doctor Babs said, as she put her equipment away. “However, we recommend no strenuous physical activity for at least a month, or until your shoulder completely heals.” Jacques was extremely relieved. “How long do you plan on keeping her?” He asked? Babs thought, “Let’s say three, or four days for observation.” Olivia hung her head. She was extremely disappointed, as Klaus’s birthday was in three days. “Is there anyway you can let me out sooner?” She asked hopefully. “It’s just too much of a risk Mrs.Snicket I’m sorry. You and your baby were functioning on extremely low blood, and we have to get levels back up.” A nurse said, while Babs left the room.

Olivia sat quietly for a minute, then looked at Jacques. “Do you know what I really want?” She said. He knew exactly, but said “no, what?” anyways. “I want some tea from the cafe down the street.” She said with pleading eyes. Jacques laughed and said, “I’ll go get you that tea.” He missed the sleeping Sunny, and Olivia and headed out the door. All was peaceful for a few minutes. Sunny was happily sleeping next to Olivia, while Olivia was reading her current favorite book Anna Karenina. Olivia was ecstatic when she heard a knock at the door. Was it Jacques, Kit, or her children? “Come in,” She called. She could not directly see the door, so she did not know who entered her room until they spoke.

“Does this seem like a nightmare? A bad dream?” The chilling voice spoke. Olivia froze. Was it- “Ah Yes! It is I, COUNT OLAF!” She could finally see him, and her blood ran cold. Olivia held Sunny close. “Stay away Olaf.” She said, not strong enough to fight him yet. “Ah, but Olivia Calib-“ she interrupted him. “Its Olivia Snicket now.” She said. “Oh that’s right!” Olaf said. “I completely forgot. Did you get my wedding present? I believe I left it in your shoulder this morning.” He smiled broadly, thinking he was very smart. “Right now, Esmè is at your house collecting the children so they will finally be in my clutches!” It was Olivia’s turn to smile. “Oh, they aren’t at home.” While she said that, all color drained from Count Olaf’s face. “Well, then tell me where they are!” He demanded. Olivia scoffed. “Over my dead body.” Olaf smiled. “I’d love to come by and finished the deed!” He said sinisterly. “Oh but, I seem to have lost my knife.”

Just then, much to Olivia’s relief Jacques walked through the door smiling. When he saw Olaf, his face turned red and angry. He walked up to him, looked him in the eyes and said: “Get. Out.” Count Olaf pretended to cower in fear. “Oh noooo. Is big scary man going to come and hurt me? Are his wealthy orphans going to stab me with books?” Olivia buried her face in her hands, while Jacques set her tea down next to him, never taking his eyes off the villain. “Your trapped Olaf.” He said, almost threateningly. “The police report had already been filed, and Kit is having the knife DNA tested. You don’t hurt Olivia and get away with it.” The two men stood six inches apart, looking ready to kill. Jacques pushed Olaf over, and hit him in the face. Then, he composed himself, and smiled at Olivia. “See love?” He said. “I told you everything would turn out okay!” Olivia was shocked, and frankly so was Olaf. Jacques had never done anything like that before!

Jacques opened the door to Olivia’s room, grabbed Count Olaf by the hair, and put handcuffs on him. “Excuse me,” Olivia Snicket heard Jacques say. “Can you please escort this man to the local police station? He verbally and physically threatened my wife, and needs to be arrested.” After a few minutes Jacques came back smiling but his smile quickly faded. Olivia was crying, her face in her hands. She was so stressed, she could hardly bear it. So much was happening to her at once! She was confused, scared and worried deeply.

Jacques ran over to her, and started comforting her. “Hey.” He told her. “Whatever it is, we’ll get through it together Olivia Snicket.” She looked up and wiped tears from her face. “Can you promise me that Jacques Snicket?”

“Promise.”

#a series of unfortunate quotes #asoue netflix #asoue au #netflix #romance #sunny baudelaire #violet baudelaire #kpop #lit #tv #asoue #asoueedit

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a-second-hand-sorrow · 6 years

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Not A Problem (Klaus Baudelaire X Reader)

WC: 1886

Warnings: Alcohol, a few innuendos

Summary: Y/N Snicket has been dating Klaus Baudelaire for a few months, and she decides that it’s finally time for Klaus to meet her siblings.

A/N: This was requested by an anon, and I hope you enjoy! (This is set in a slightly alternate timeline where Klaus and Y/N are about 18-19 and everyone is alive and well)

Y/N Snicket took in a deep breath out the front of the restaurant, trying to mentally prepare herself for what was about to happen.

“What if they don’t like me? You have said that your siblings can be a bit judgemental.” Klaus said, nervously fidgeting with his tie.

Y/N relaxed a bit and fixed Klaus’ tie for him.

“Klaus, you’re a Baudelaire, so Lemony is going to like you almost by default. Jacques is a people person, so he finds a way to like practically everyone.” Y/N said, and Klaus’ face relaxed slightly.

“Wait, what about Kit?” He said, and Y/N winced slightly.

“Kit takes a little longer to warm up to people, but I have faith that you’ll charm her. I mean, you charmed me.” Y/N said, pecking Klaus’ pink cheek.

“Ok, ok. I feel better.” Klaus said, smiling at Y/N. He laced his fingers with hers, and she knew that he was ready.

Ever since they started dating, Klaus had dreaded meeting Y/N’s older siblings because he knew how protective they were of their younger sister. So, when the couple entered the dimly lit restaurant Klaus was surprised to find himself standing a little taller.

“Table for 5, name is Snicket.” Y/N said, and the maitre’d nodded, directing them to their half-full table.

Jacques was the first to greet them, pulling Y/N into a tight hug.

“It’s good to see you, Y/N. You hadn’t written to me so I was scared Olaf had gotten to you somehow.” Jacques said, ruffling Y/N’s hair.

“Jacques, you know I wouldn’t let Olaf near me even if I had a ten-foot pole.” Y/N said and Jacques chuckled, nodding his head.

“Very true. Klaus, sorry for not greeting you sooner. How are you?” Jacques said, directing his attention to Y/N’s slightly nervous boyfriend.

“I’m fine.” Klaus said, his voice about half an octave higher than usual. Y/N stifled a laugh, and she saw a slightly disapproving look in Jacques’ eyes at her actions.

“That’s good to hear. Please, sit down.” Jacques said, and the couple sat down next to each other in between Jacques and Lemony.

Lemony hadn’t looked up at them since their arrival, but when he did Y/N noticed a bitter look in his eyes. She could tell he was thinking about Beatrice, and she felt sorry for her older brother.

“Hey Lemon.” Y/N said, and Lemony looked up at her.

“I thought I told you not to call me that.” Lemony said and Y/N shrugged her shoulders.

“Yeah, I just chose not to listen.” Y/N said, shooting Klaus a playful look. Their hands were still joined, and Y/N squeezed Klaus’ hand reassuringly.

Suddenly they heard a cough and a smile spread across the faces of everyone at the table when they saw their waiter.

“Larry!” Y/N called, earning a few judgemental looks from the other patrons.

“Hello Snickets, and Klaus. What can I get for you this evening? Judging from the table makeup, can I recommend the ‘meeting a relative’s partner for the first time’ platter?” Larry said, and both Y/N and Klaus went red.

“We’ll take two, and five glasses of champagne.” Jacques said, and Y/N coughed loudly.

“Is something wrong?” Jacques asked, and Y/N rolled her eyes.

“Jacques, Klaus and I can’t drink champagne. We’re not 21 yet.” She said, and Jacques winced slightly.

“Ok. Make that three champagnes and two… apple juices, I don’t know.” Jacques said, and Y/N snorted with laughter.

“Apple juice is fine. Also, Larry, I had no idea you were a legitimate waiter. I thought it was just a cover.” Y/N said, and Larry shrugged his shoulders.

“It started as a cover, but I actually enjoy being a waiter, so here I am.” He said and Y/N nodded as Larry walked into the kitchen.

“I’m just gonna say it. Y/N, Klaus, congratulations on your relationship. At least one of the Snickets got lucky.” Jacques said, winking at the couple.

Klaus went a bright shade of red, and Y/N let out an exasperated sigh.

“Ha ha, very funny brother dear.” Y/N said sarcastically, rolling her eyes at the childishness of her brother.

“A Snicket having a successful relationship with a Baudelaire. That’s rare.” Lemony chimed in, and Jacques groaned.

“I know you’re still upset about Beatrice, but could you please stow the depression for tonight. You can go home and cry into your coffee after dinner.” Jacques said, and Klaus looked at Y/N with concern in his eyes.

“I knew a full Snicket family reunion would be a bad idea.” Y/N muttered, tracing circles on the back of Klaus’ hand with her thumb.

“Kit, you’ve been awfully quiet ever since Klaus and Y/N showed up.” Jacques noted, and Y/N looked over at her sister hesitantly.

She knew Kit was quiet because she was sizing Klaus up, trying to gauge what kind of a person he was.

“I don’t have to talk all night, Jacques.” Kit said, and Y/N took a deep breath. When Kit started arguing it was never good.

“Here are your drinks.” Larry’s voice interrupted them, and Y/N and Klaus graciously accepted their glasses of apple juice.

“Thanks Larry.” Klaus said, and Larry shot him a smile before returning to the kitchen.

“So, when did you two officially get together?” Kit asked, and Y/N swallowed nervously, knowing that the dreaded questioning had started.

“Well, about two months ago I took Y/N to go see a movie, and we started dating the next day.” Klaus said, looking over at the blushing face of his girlfriend.

He could tell she was thinking back to the night of their first date, how he gave her his jacket when it started raining, and how they kissed for the first time not long after that.

“Y/N, you look like a tomato, so I take it that you didn’t watch a lot of the movie.” Jacques said suggestively, and Y/N glared at her brother.

“That’s enough Jacques. But really, that’s sweet you two.” Kit said, with a tiny smile on her face. Y/N knew that look, and it was her faux-pleasant look.

A look she used when she wanted to keep the other person in the conversation happy for a little longer before really launching in.

“When you go on dates, who pays?” Kit asked, and Klaus raised his free hand.

“That would be me, even though Y/N always insists that she can cover it, I’d like to be a little gentlemanly.” Klaus said, and YN chuckled, nodding in agreement.

“It’s true. I feel like I’m bankrupting him, but he always pays.” Y/N said, smiling brightly at her boyfriend.

It was that moment that Kit Snicket realised just how in love her sister was. She had only ever seen Y/N smile like that once before, when she brought a young woman by the name of Eliza home to meet them, and unfortunately the relationship did not end well.

“Well, that’s good to hear.” Kit said, smiling at Klaus. Y/N gave Kit a shocked look before beaming brightly at her sister.

“Your meals are ready.” Larry said, placing the two large plates down on the table.

“Thank you, Larry.” Kit said, taking a sip of her champagne.

“So, how has life been for the older Snicket’s?” Y/N asked, picking up a chicken wing.

“Not too bad. Still driving taxis and putting out fires, literally and figuratively.” Jacques said and Y/N nodded.

“I honestly expected you to say that, Jacques. Lemony, how have you been?” Y/N asked, and the younger of her brothers paused, thinking about his life the past few months.

“Alright. I’ve been doing a lot of reading which is always beneficial.” Lemony said, and Klaus’ face brightened at the mention of reading.

“I love reading. What kind of books do you prefer? Fiction or non-fiction?” Klaus asked, taking his hand out of Y/N’s to gesture as he spoke, and slowly but surely Lemony came out of his shell.

The other Snicket’s exchanged confused glances, wondering if something had happened to their brother to cause him to be so talkative.

“I get what you’re saying, but with all due respect I find fiction more interesting. It just allows the mind to expand more than cold hard facts. That being said…” Klaus trailed off, and Y/N looked up at him with love in her eyes.

In her opinion, Klaus looked the best when he was talking about books because his eyes shone and no matter how intense the conversation got, he always wore a smile.

So, when Y/N saw her boyfriend in a heated debate with her brother about literature, she was so overcome with affection and joy that she cut Klaus off with an unprompted kiss.

When Y/N pulled away everyone at the table was looking at her with shocked faces, although Jacques looked more proud than shocked.

“What was that for?” Klaus said, not upset about the kiss but a little taken aback by the suddenness of it.

“You just look so adorable when you talk about books, and you’re finally fitting in with the family, I just felt really happy so I kissed you. Is that a problem, Klaus Baudelaire?” Y/N said, and Klaus smiled brightly at Y/N, wrapping an arm around her shoulders.

“That’s not a problem at all, Y/N Snicket.” Klaus said, kissing the top of Y/N’s head.

“Should we leave? Because, you know, we’re still here.” Lemony said, and although his tone was sarcastic he was very happy for his younger sister.

Y/N pulled a face that caused the table to erupt in laughter, and Klaus ran his fingers gently across Y/N’s upper arm.

“I would love to stay and keep chatting, but I have a date with a rather attractive librarian.” Jacques said, and both Y/N and Kit groaned in unison.

“Why am I not surprised, Jacques?” Kit said, and Y/N nodded in agreement.

“What can I say, I make do.” Jacques said, winking at Y/N and she rolled her eyes.

“We should go as well. Violet is a wonderful babysitter but I know Sunny can sometimes be a handful.” Klaus said, and Y/N nodded.

The couple stood up, and took turns saying goodbye to the older Snicket’s. Y/N couldn’t help but watch with admiration as Klaus shook the hands of her brothers, proud that he’d made such a good impression.

Once goodbyes were said, Y/N and Klaus began the walk back to the tram station that would take them home.

“I had an amazing time tonight. I will admit, I was a little scared beforehand, but it was a wonderful evening.” Klaus said, and Y/N nodded.

Y/N pressed a hand against Klaus’ cheek, and he leaned into her touch. “Thank you, Klaus, for everything. I love you.” Y/N said, and she looked up slightly so their eyes met.

“I love you too.” Klaus said before connecting his and Y/N’s lips. The kiss was tender and loving, causing butterflies to form in both of their stomachs.

Klaus reluctantly pulled away, his breathing a little heavier than usual. “You can open your eyes Y/N.” Klaus said, and Y/N opened her eyes, laughing sheepishly.

“Shut up.” Y/N muttered, kissing Klaus’ cheek.

Klaus laughed gently, looking at Y/N and realising just how in love with her he was. Sure, their relationship wouldn’t be easy, but he was more than ok with that.

#asoue #asoue imagine #asoue x reader #klaus baudelaire #klaus baudelaire x reader #klaus baudelaire imagine #louis hynes #a series of unfortunate events #netflix

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unfortunate-stranger-losers · 4 years

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All Those Things They Couldn’t Say - A Runaway Baudelaires AU

{ao3} {tumblr} {masterlist}

Chapter One - Prologue

“Why are we always running?”

Beatrice and Bertrand always knew this question would come. It was inevitable, what with their situation, their way of life, one their children would always notice wasn’t considered normal. But still, it took three attempts before they finally answered.

First came when Violet was five. Old enough to notice that everybody else had permanent houses, permanent cities, who moved only rarely and were impressed that she couldn’t even remember how many places they’d lived. When she asked, while little Klaus was stumbling around the room trying to find a book for their father to read to him, Beatrice just forced a smile and told her that she’d explain when she was older.

Second was when Violet was six. She was older, she’d thought, so she should know now. And it was after she had come home from the playground with her mother, crying because the other kids wouldn’t let the new girl play with her. She was always the new girl. Would she never have anyone to play with? When she asked Bertrand, he fell silent and asked her if she wanted to practice her lockpicking. That distracted her as well as cheered her up immensely; she was very good at picking all sorts of locks, and loved finding out how they worked.

Finally, third, came from Klaus. And when their youngest asked, their little five-year-old confused that he couldn’t get a library card if he didn’t live in town, while his seven-year-old sister looked up behind him, begging with her eyes for them to finally explain, they realized they couldn’t delay it any longer.

Beatrice held out her arms, and Klaus ran up to her, stumbling over his own feet and blinking behind his new glasses, leaping onto her lap and curling up against her chest, already clinging to her arm. He was definitely more of a cuddler than Violet, who preferred to only occasionally give hugs and would rather just wave or blow kisses from across the room to show affection. Still, Violet went over to Bertrand, sitting on his lap so he wouldn’t feel left out and wrapping and unwrapping a ribbon around her hand.

Beatrice glanced around the room a moment; they were in a small hotel, for the next two weeks before they could catch the train. This was a relatively safe city, but it still made her uneasy. She didn’t like staying so close to anything VFD-related for long. But if they caught this train, they might have a month or two before moving again.

“Mama?” Klaus glanced up at her. “Are you gonna answer?”

Beatrice and Bertrand shared a very sad look. No sense delaying it longer.

“Well…” Beatrice muttered, running her hands through Klaus’s hair as he snuggled against her again. “You see… it’s not a very happy story.”

“Tha’s okay.”

Beatrice held out her other arm, and Bertrand grabbed and squeezed her hand. It’s okay, he was clearly saying. We’ll do it together. Like everything else.

She had to hold back tears- don’t let them see you cry, Bea, don’t let them see you cry- and managed to say, her voice breaking only a little, “Mommy and Daddy did something very bad.”

Violet looked over at her, surprise in her eyes. Beatrice didn’t dare look down at Klaus; he hadn’t moved from her grasp, but she was sure he was also shocked. They’d never imagined their parents could do something bad, something so bad it would ruin their lives before they even began. Not that they understood their lives were so horrible yet; this was all they knew.

“We, um…” she took a deep breath, and then glanced at Bertrand. He nodded.

“You know those kids a few towns back who were a part of those Scouts?” Bertrand said. “Where they gathered together and learned things at the same time?”

“Yeah, like a club.” Violet nodded.

Bertrand sighed. “You see, there are some of those for adults, and not all of them are good. Some of them are very bad, and make you think doing bad things are okay, and the only good thing you can do is stay in the group.”

“That sounds scary.” Violet said.

“It… it is.” Bertrand said. “And when Mommy and Daddy were… were about your age, our parents gave us to a group like that, because they didn’t know it was bad. They were told it was… was a good thing to give their kids up. But we’d never do that, okay?” He looked very seriously at both his children. “We learned better, and we’ll never let anyone take you away.”

Klaus and Violet nodded seriously. They couldn’t even imagine a parent giving up their child. It was unbelievable to them.

“We grew up there.” Beatrice said. “And they made us do bad things and think they were good. And one of those things… we tried to leave, and that bad thing was revealed.”

“You know how the police are supposed to help people, but we always tell you not to talk to them unless it’s an absolute emergency?” Bertrand said. “It’s because they’re looking for us.”

“Why can’t you just explain you didn’t know it was bad?” Violet asked, tilting her head. “Wouldn’t they believe you?”

“I’m afraid not, baby.” Beatrice said. She let go of Bertrand and wrapped her arm around Klaus, hugging him as best she could. “Our group is secret, and keeps themselves very secret, so nobody knows about them, and if we try to tell people, they won’t believe us.”

“And we… it’s still our fault.” Bertrand said. “No matter what we were told, we should’ve known what we did was bad. We were told that… that it was a bad thing, unless our group asked it of us. We should’ve realized how contradictory that was.”

Klaus looked up at him. “What does ‘con-tra-dic-to-ry’ mean?”

Bertrand smiled a little. “Logically opposite, inconsistent, impossible to connect.”

“Oh.”

“And if we turn ourselves in,” Bertrand said, glancing at the ground, “Then our enemies will find and hurt us. And, even worse… they could find you.”

“And we want you to know,” Beatrice said, very slowly, “That no matter what Mommy and Daddy have done, we will never do anything to hurt you, ever. We’re running so the people who want to hurt us, and the group that hurt us, can never find us or you.”

“But we might be able to stop someday.” Bertrand said. “We have a…” he and Beatrice shared a look. How were they supposed to explain his relationship to them? “A very close friend. He’s working on getting our enemies locked up for the bad things they did, and…”

“And getting us in a good enough place that we can find somewhere to live safely.” Beatrice said, and she ran her hand through Klaus’s hair again. “Or… or at the very least, you can be safe. Even if we’re not, the most important thing is that nothing happens to you.”

They’d considered that for a very long time. That they might have to turn themselves in. For what they’d done. For the blood on their hands. They would do that if they could, they knew; it was deserved. They’d killed people, they deserved the consequences. But Violet and Klaus didn’t. They didn’t deserve any hurt, any of the horrible things that could happen to them because of what their parents did. If all went well, Lemony could clear their names. But if he could only get the Firestarters locked up, get VFD off their backs for long enough… Lemony would take care of their children. They knew he would.

“It’s very hard to tell you this.” Bertrand said, remembering that he’d been told it was important to be emotionally open to your children so that they understood, and by God, did he need them to understand. “You know how hard it is to admit you did something bad to someone you love.”

Violet nodded slowly, thinking hard. She knew what it was like to admit that she’d pushed Klaus down, or broken something that didn’t belong to them. Even Klaus knew what it was like to confess that he’d ripped a book on accident or stolen extra food on purpose. Of course, none of that was as bad as murder, but it was the worst thing they could probably think of. Enough to at least understand how their parents felt.

“But we do have to tell you.” Beatrice said. “We just wanted to wait until you were old enough to understand a little. We’ll explain more as you get older, and can understand everything. Is that okay?”

Violet and Klaus were silent a moment, and even though they knew it was unlikely, Beatrice and Bertrand both felt a fleeting moment of panic that their children didn’t understand, and were angry, and were going to yell and scream and hate them- or worse, run away and end up right in the arms of people who could hurt them.

Then Klaus nodded. “Okay.” he said.

Violet nodded, too, getting back to work on wrapping and unwrapping her ribbon. “Okay.”

Their parents shared a very significant look, one full of sadness, yet relief.

“So, we have to keep moving until things are safe.” Beatrice finished. “And I’m very sorry. That’s also why you get to learn so many things-”

“Like math?” Klaus asked.

“Well, no, everyone should know math.” Beatrice said, forcing herself to laugh a little. “We mean like… stuff other kids don’t know. Like lockpicking, and self-defense-”

“And codes?” Violet asked.

Beatrice bit her lip. “Yes. And codes.” She took a deep breath. “We can’t answer all of your questions right now. But we will, we promise. We can’t hide this from you while we keep you on the run with us. But do you have any questions? We’ll try to answer whichever ones we can.”

Violet and Klaus shared a look, considering, while Beatrice and Bertrand met each other’s frightened gaze.

Then Violet asked, “What was the bad group called? So we don’t accidentally join?”

Klaus nodded his agreement that yes, that was a good question. Beatrice sighed, thankful they hadn’t asked for more specifics on their parents’ crime.

“It was called the Volunteer Fire Department,” Bertrand said, “But they call themselves VFD. They use those initials as a code.”

“There are two different parts of the group.” Beatrice said. “Some of them work to stop fires and preserve knowledge, and some of them start fires and work to gather material possessions. But they both make their members do whatever they want, and convince them that they can never leave.”

“Both of them will try to hurt you, if they find out you exist.” Bertrand said. “And we’re very sorry about that, and we don’t want to scare you. But we also want you to know what to stay away from, and what is dangerous, so that you don’t end up with them, thinking they’re safe.”

“Okay.” Violet nodded. “Tha’ makes sense.”

“Can we go to the library now?” Klaus asked. “I wanna finish that book on tide pools.”

Beatrice smiled, and once again had to remind herself not to cry. “Yes, of course.” she said. “Do you want me to read it to you, or do you think you can do it yourself?”

“I think I can.” Klaus nodded seriously. He felt very grown-up, now that his parents had told him a secret. Which reminded Beatrice-

“Oh, and one more thing.” she said. “You can’t tell anyone about this, okay? We don’t want to get caught.”

Violet and Klaus nodded, even smiling a little, excited to be trusted so much.

They got up to get their bags to go to the library, and both Beatrice and Bertrand tried not to cry.

Beatrice and Bertrand rarely contacted Lemony back. They felt bad about it, but when they went on the run, they all agreed it was best. They would send him something inconspicuous when they were to stay in a town for long enough for him to send a report back. Sometimes a message, if they could risk it- Violet learned Sebald quickly. Klaus has finally managed to scale a building. Thank you for the coats, they were useful. Violet’s recent invention was so magnificent, you would be impressed. Klaus can recite Beowulf in the original Old English, you’d love to hear it. We miss you.

She has your eyes.

They weren’t to be in this town long- only until the boat could ferry them across the harbor in a few days, but they knew they had to risk it.

Violet was upstairs, working on making a portable toaster so they could cook food without setting a campfire. Klaus was downstairs, reading some books they’d stolen from the library, which they would return before they left, something about the life of one historian or another. They were growing up so fast. Too fast.

Beatrice had grown even more nervous since they sent the message, and every time Bertrand came back from the post office, shaking his head that there had been no reply, she got even more concerned.

They were both terrified, but they’d felt this terror before. On the island, when Beatrice realized why she was so nauseous when she was no longer at sea. Several months later, when they were hidden in the basement of an old house Lemony could visit, and he and Bertrand had to help her by themselves. When they were swiping food from the store, and she was shoving bags into her coat while Bertrand distracted the cashier with how cute Violet was, and she was feeling dizzy, and she, with shaking hands, also stole a test from beside the counter. Months after that, when they were in the woods and Bertrand had to zip Violet into the tent so she couldn’t wander off while he used his little medical knowledge because they couldn’t get to a hospital even if it would’ve been safe for them to. The several weeks when their infant son needed help to breathe, and kept getting sick, and all those nights they couldn’t sleep because they were terrified he’d slip away and stop moving forever while they weren’t looking.

But it had been a long time, and the terror returned like a gutpunch.

Finally, while Violet invented and Klaus read, Bertrand returned from the post office with a telegram. He and Beatrice sat on the couch to decode it, and smiled a little when the message read something that wasn’t angry, or judgmental, or even sad.

If you name them after our chaperone, so help me God…

Bertrand laughed, and Beatrice laughed. And then they cried.

“One day,” they promised each other, “One day soon, they’ll all be safe. They won’t have to run. They won’t have to hide. Maybe this one won’t even grow up on the run.”

They knew that was a promise they couldn’t keep, but they were content with pretending.

#asoue #asoue netflix #a series of unfortunate events #asoue au #runaway baudelaires au #all those things they couldn't say #asoue fanfiction #my fanfic #mine

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vfdbaudelairefile13 · 4 years

Text

TRIGGER WARNING:

Dear reader,

I must caution you about this next chapter. This is the chapter where we continue to explore creepy undertones pertaining to Olaf as a character. If you are not comfortable with reading about predatory behavior, comments ranging from vague to slightly explicit (on the topic of these predatory behaviors), a young girl being restrained, a young girl being threatened, threats to a minor, or vague to slightly specific comments about pedophilia, a creepy fuck stroking a young girl's hair, cheek, and leg... I would suggest skipping specific parts of this chapter.

Please read with caution. If anything becomes too triggering or makes you too uncomfortable I am happy to summarize in vague details (when going over certain parts) so you are still able to follow the story. Please if you can't read this chapter in its entirely, I will be more than happy to explain the events of the chapter in a less descriptive way. _______________________________________________________________ Friendly Reminder:

I don't feel right saying 'enjoy' because this is a tough pill to swallow.

Read with caution. Love the support you guys have given this fic.

-Susan.

Chapter Fifty-Three:

The One Where Olaf Breaks a Spirit

It was too late. She scarcely had any time to register what had been said, let alone react to it.

She felt two rough arms wrap themselves around her torso, slightly higher than her stomach. The arms pulled her back harshly, she felt her back make an impact as she grunted in shock, fear, and surprise.

She began to scream for help but it was too late, a spider-like hand crawled up her body from its initial place around her stomach to clamp down harshly on her mouth muffling and suppressing all of her screams.

Olaf gripped her tightly as he continued to laugh.

Violet was trembling and beginning to cry. She desperately shook her head, trying to loosen his grip around her mouth. He chuckled again as he dug his nails into her face, smiling at the fact that his nails would dig into her bruised cheek which caused her to yelp.

Tears sprang into her eyes once more when she felt him bend down just slightly, pressuring his chin atop of her shoulder. He could feel her shake within his touch.

“ Did you really think they cared about you?” his voice snarled.

He kept his chin in its place on top of her right shoulder. His words were close enough to her ear but with his chin on her shoulder, his breath traveled towards her neck which caused her to shiver uncomfortably even more.

He laughed once more as she tensed up when he spoke again. “ My...my...my...you Snickets are so desperate for the love and approval of the Baudelaires.” he hissed. He turned his head towards her, smiling wickedly at the sight of her completely frozen over in fear.

She whimpered when she realized that he was staring at her. He began to loosen his grip on her face, although he still kept his hand over her mouth.

“You know, you should’ve ran while you had the chance,” he hissed. The arm around her gripped her tightly, pulling her closer towards him. She struggled just slightly as her cries continued to come from her mouth. Tears were falling down her face slowly as she glanced around the room as much as she could looking for anyone, anyone who would help her. Her eyes landed on Esme Squalor, who leaned up against one of the far walls next to the door. The woman seemed annoyed and disinterested in whatever Olaf was doing but Violet could also tell that the woman was refusing to leave Olaf alone with her, although Violet doubted that Esme’s intentions or reasonings were for Violet’s benefit.

Violet felt Olaf’s hand move from her mouth but she dared not scream. She watched as his hand traveled to her cheek, wiping away a few of her tears with his medical-gloved hand. “ My darling little pet, ” he cooed as he wiped her tears. She felt her core not only flare up with rage but also began to shake and tremble with fear. She didn’t know how to react or what to do. “ Didn’t you hear? ” he asked her. His voice sounded happy as if he were telling a joke.

Violet stopped struggling momentarily as she tried to turn her head towards Olaf. She was curious about what he was going to say to her.

Olaf smirked when he saw the small flare of curiosity in her eyes. “ The Baudelaires...have left the hospital.” he hissed, smiling at her viciously.

His words hit her to her core. Paralyzing her entirely. She couldn’t fight him even if she tried. She began to tremble more as Olaf began to snicker. A quiet, distraught ‘no’ came from Violet in response.

“Oh, yes,” Olaf replied as he began to pull her further away from the door and closer to the hospital bed. Violet didn’t struggle, so it didn’t take much to move her. She was seemingly paralyzed by what he had just said to her. As he pushed her closer to the still occupied hospital bed, Violet sobbed as quietly as she could.

“...y-you’re lying…,” she hiccupped desperately, trying to calm herself down. She didn’t want to show Olaf any weakness.

“Now what would I gain from lying to my pretty little pet?” he asked, as he stared at her with a vicious look in his eyes.

She simply glared at him, although her glare was weak and her eyes were full of tears. She didn’t know how to answer his question. What would he gain?

She shuddered when he moved one of his hands to wipe her tears from her cheek. “...don’t touch me,” she hissed as angrily as she could.

Olaf rolled his eyes, ignoring her. “Oh, come on, are you truly surprised?” he asked. “You Snickets have never and will never belong with the Baudelaires. Your father learned that the hard way when he got stuck with you.” The vile man waited for the teenager to respond, but she merely frowned, turning her head away from him. “I witnessed it through the security cameras,” he explained. “The bookworm took his actual sister and ran. I’ll give the coward this much... at least he’s smart... unlike you. ” He tightened his grip around Violet, who groaned uncomfortably. “You just had to check up on him, didn’t you?”

Violet glared at Olaf. “My dad gave his life to help Klaus and Sunny,” she spat angrily. “ I’m just finishing the job.”

“Then just like Daddy dearest, you will die.” he hissed into her ear. She whimpered in response. Olaf shrugged nonchalantly. “Those two brats are your Achilles heel...but what are you to them?” he asked, shifting his face from one shoulder to the other, still keeping his grip on her. Violet didn’t fight back though. She just shuddered violently.

“Snickets take care of their own,” she whimpered defiantly.

Olaf laughed wickedly. “Obviously, Baudelaires don’t see it the same way,” he glanced towards the hospital bed, he released one of Violet’s shoulders and smacked the leg of the person who still laid within the hospital bed. “You can get up now!” he barked.

To Violet’s surprise, the Henchperson of Indeterminate Gender pulled the long, white sheet from themselves and stood up. They silently glanced at their boss and his young captive, cringing inaudibly. Olaf pushed them out of the way and ripped the medical coat from Violet’s person, revealing her hospital gown. He gripped her shoulders tightly as he spun her around making her face him. His eyes shone brightly, Violet averted her eyes from his. He reached one of his spider-like hands into her hair and harshly pulled out the pens that kept her bun up.

“Ow!” she shrieked. “What the hell bastard,”

“Your hair up like that…” he spat angrily, shaking his head harshly. “Reminds me of someone,” he muttered, his eyes glancing towards Esme, who was intensely staring at him. “Someone I lost...a long time ago,” he whispered. Violet wasn’t entirely sure, but she felt as though she could hear sadness in his voice. Violet looked towards Olaf confused for a few moments. She was always told she looked like her mother, but she doubted that that was who Olaf was talking about. She was sure that he didn’t mean her father.

I, the narrator, am both sad and disturbed to inform you that Count Olaf was not talking about how much Violet Snicket resembled her birth mother, Beatrice Baudelaire or her father, Lemony Snicket. He was referring to her paternal aunt, Kit Snicket. I don’t have to tell you why that image alone is abhorrent, vile, and should not have been said. Fortunately for Violet, she was too distraught about the possibility that her two younger half-siblings had left her to fend for herself against Olaf after she had selflessly sacrificed herself for their safety. So she didn’t have the mental strength to completely understand what Olaf had just said. But as someone who has done extensive research about the Snicket and Baudelaire cases, I will say that my research pertaining to Olaf and Kit Snicket’s love affair has concluded to a few startling realizations that are and are not relevant to the conclusion of these cases. But even without my research into Kit Snicket’s involvement in Violet Snicket’s case, it makes my stomach churn because this statement alone implies too much about his disgusting intentions with the young fourteen-year-old.

Olaf grabbed the teenaged girl roughly and threw her on the gurney. Violet’s back made contact with the gurney harshly and that was when her fight or flight senses seemed to flare up again because she began to struggle against Olaf’s grip as he tried to tie her wrists and legs to the gurney once more.

“ No...no...no…” she cried as she fought.

Olaf grabbed her wrists roughly as he glared up at Esme. “Are you going to help me subdue the brat?”

Esme rolled her eyes. “Not only did I originally kidnap her but I lured her into our trap...can’t you do anything by yourself?”

Olaf glared towards Esme. “Just fucking help me!”

Esme sighed, rolling her eyes as she walked over towards the struggling Violet, grabbing her ankles and pushing them down on the gurney. “I feel like one of those hypocritical volunteers,” Esme commented.

Violet glared towards Esme as she tried her best to overpower the vain woman. Olaf smirked down at Violet as she looked up at him angrily. “What happened to outsmarting me?”

She shook her head defiantly as she felt leather belts being used to restrain her. “ Let me go!” she cried as she tried her best to move her arms and legs. Olaf glared down at the young girl, rolling his eyes. He needed something to get her to stop fighting him entirely. He looked down at the young girl as Esme finished restraining her ankles.

“You know your father knew the entire time that Beatrice was dead…” Olaf said, a Grinch-like grin being painted slowly on his face when he realized how she stopped struggling immediately.

“Wait...what?”

“And he didn’t even tell you. What kind of father does that?”

“What…?”

“You know, you were quite the surprise,” Olaf explained, looking directly at Violet, who began to glare at him and had stopped struggling. Violet looked up at him confused. “Oh, you don’t know?” he asked.

Violet shook her head slowly.

“The last time I saw your father...before the fire,” Olaf said smirking. “I questioned him about having children...and he lied. He said he didn’t have any. He was pretty quick to answer.”

“He...he only said that to protect me,” Violet argued. Her voice showed her uncertainty, although she did her best to disguise it.

“But did that work?” Olaf asked with a shrug of his shoulders. “You know...if your father would have just minded his own fucking business...he’d still be with you.”

She turned her head to ignore him but he wouldn’t shut up.

“I bet your father left you with so many unanswered questions,” Olaf mused as Esme smiled cruelly at Violet.

“Fuck off!” Violet screamed trying her hardest to kick either Esme or Olaf but her ankles were tied down with belts. “ It’s your fucking fault that he’s dead!”

“ On the contrary, it’s his, ” Olaf countered. “Did he ever tell you why he was on the run, my darling?” Olaf asked walking around her hospital bed like a shark. Esme moved out of his path but didn’t go very far. She was amused, but her patience was wearing thin. She just wanted to slay this brat and find the other two who she believed had her sugar bowl. Violet merely glared at both villains not replying. Not entertaining the notion. She knew Olaf was looking for reactions, she had learned that the hard way back at the village when he had admitted to her that she was right to suspect him of murdering her father. She gave him a reaction that was enough to convince the crowd of village folk that she and Klaus were murderers and now because of that, she and her siblings had to live life on the run like her father had while now Olaf got to walk around with more liberty because the world believed he was dead. Violet wished he was dead. “My...my...my Miss Snicket, it seems I am the only person alive to answer all those burning questions in your mind... ain’t that something? ” Olaf smirked at the young girl as she turned her head away from him.

Can’t he just fucking kill me and get it over with already? Violet asked herself in agony when she felt his hand on her knee again. She shuddered and glanced towards Esme for help. Esme noticed where his hand was too and made an audible scoff indicating to Olaf that she is not happy.

Olaf rolled his eyes merely ignoring Esme. “I mean...I could be a gentleman and give you all your answers,” he mused. Violet’s stomach churned uncomfortably. “ But… ” he began, his eyes shining even more. Violet wanted to murder him right where he stood but she was trapped. “That wouldn’t be fair to me...now would it?” he moved his hand slightly higher causing her to jump and squeal.

“ Fuck you!” Violet screeched trying to jerk her leg away from his grip, but she couldn’t. “No…” she whimpered glancing once more at Esme, who now stood with her arms folding across her chest. The villainess didn’t seem very happy about what Olaf was doing but she wasn’t necessarily stopping him either. Violet wished Esme would do something...anything. “I don’t need you to get my answers! Klaus, Sunny, and I…”

“I already told you they left you,” Olaf reiterated. “You sacrificed yourself for nothing.” He hissed, his hand gripping tightly slightly above her knee.

“I gave myself up…” her glare intensified as she remembered what Olaf had done to Klaus and Sunny and how it had affected them. She was terrified. She didn’t want to believe that Klaus and Sunny had left her, they couldn’t. They wouldn’t. They couldn’t...could they? She asked herself. She wondered if she would survive her time in Olaf’s captivity or if she’ll be affected the way that her siblings were. She knew that this depended on what happened to her during this time. But either way, Violet knew deep down if she survived this by rescuing herself or by her father, whom she believed to be the survivor, rescuing her, she’d have a hard time letting the effects of this show. She was the eldest, she had to be strong. Even in front of her father she feared she’d have to be strong. She didn’t want him to blame himself. She intensified her glare as much as she could before continuing to speak. “because I knew I could handle anything you throw at me,” Violet hissed back as confidently as she could.

Olaf smirked. “I wouldn’t say that,” he looked to Violet offering a cruel smile. “But don’t you worry your little head. When I’m done with you , I will hunt them down and as I said I will end them in the cruelest ways imaginable.”

“ Leave them alone! You have me!” Violet cried. “I can get you both fortunes! I’m the eldest!” she began to cry. “ You...don’t...you don’t need them…”

Olaf shrugged his shoulders. “You’re right,” he said causing Violet to foolishly believe that she had convinced him to leave Klaus and Sunny alone. “I don’t need them.” his hand raised slightly higher causing Violet to shudder violently.

“Stop!” she screamed.

“ I don’t need them but I want to hurt them. I want to make your pitiful attempt at protecting them entirely fruitless.” Olaf hissed.

“...haven’t they suffered enough, ” Violet pleaded. She pushed her head further into her pillow. “I know what you did to Klaus and I swear to God you better hope I don’t live to see the day where I can do that to you!” she tried to kick him again, not caring that she was chaffing her skin against her restraints.

Olaf merely laughed. “He’s alive, isn’t he?” he asked with a shrug of his shoulders.

“You sick bastard,”

“He should consider himself lucky,” Olaf explained. “I could have killed him that night, kind of disappointed that I didn’t. But on the bright side, if I had...I never would’ve killed Snicket and meet my new little pet,”

“I’m not your pet!” she screeched.

“But enough talking about that ugly little bookworm and his hideous baby sister. You see, I could simply keep you and let them live,” he said. “But as I said before...you would have to do something for me,” he smirked at her.

She closed her eyes as she slowly began to cry. Violet shuddered understanding fully what Olaf was implying. She kept her eyes closed as she sighed. “Just... just leave them alone. Whatever you want to do to them ...just do it to me. ” she choked on her tears. “ Just… leave my siblings alone.”

Olaf growled in annoyance as he removed his hand from her leg and walked over so he can get in her face. “Did you really think you belong with them?” he hissed whispering in Violet’s ear. The girl whined in response, turning her head away from Olaf.

“Why won’t you leave me the fuck alone!” she whined.

“ She may have accepted you...but she’s a baby. Babies are desperate for a true protector since little Sunny knows that her bookworm brother obviously can’t protect her. But he obviously hasn’t accepted you. He obviously takes after his dear mother on this one. He doesn’t want you just like his mother didn’t want you from the very start.” Olaf hissed. “He doesn’t want an older sister, he just needs a protector. That’s all you will ever be to them. Some stupid foolish girl who thought she could be a part of their family. But you can’t. There will always be that invisible wall, boxing you in, separating you from them. You can foolishly sacrifice yourself all you want... nothing you do will ever change that.” Olaf hissed into her ear as he grabbed her face and held it in place so he can make sure she could hear every single word that he spat out. “Look around, my pet. You are alone with me. The bookworm knows what I am capable of and yet...he and the baby haven’t shown their faces in any attempt to rescue you. They simply don’t care about you.”

Violet’s tears were betraying her as more continued to fall. Every word that Olaf had hissed hit her relentlessly. A part of her wanted to believe he was lying but the other part of her was believing him entirely. Sunny was pretty young and super quick to adapt to Violet’s addition to the family, Klaus, on the other hand, was hesitant and it seemed to Violet that he may never adapt to her being his older sister. She didn’t think that they would leave her. But Olaf made a good point, Klaus and Sunny in different ways knew what Olaf was capable of and yet, Violet hadn’t seen any sign of either of them since the Library of Records. But her siblings weren’t the only people she was thinking about as Olaf spoke. She thought about her own father. If he was the survivor, why wasn’t he saving her like he saved them? Why wasn’t he breaking into the hospital door and beating the shit out of Olaf until he finally died and killing Esme? Her father also knew what Olaf was capable of, that was obvious. He knew Olaf since they were younger and he was protecting Klaus and Sunny from Olaf’s wrath. So if her dad knew just what Olaf was capable of and he was possibly alive, why was he leaving her to fend for herself. Did her father ever care? Or did he merely care out of obligation?

Olaf smirked down at Violet when he realized that she was fighting back her sobs. My work here is done. He thought to himself. He looked towards Esme, shaking his head once to the side indicating for her to follow him out. Esme huffed in annoyance as she started for the door. Olaf followed behind her, smirking at Violet on his way out. “Don’t worry my pet, unlike those selfish, good for nothing Baudelaires... WE want you here,”

“I don’t,” Esme hissed, rolling her eyes.

Olaf sighed angrily at Esme as the two villains reached the door. They were both shocked to see the Hook-Handed Man standing outside the door. Olaf turned towards Violet one last time. “Well... I want you here.” he hissed before evilly cackling like a mad man as he shut the door. Violet listened to hear the click! Of the lock.

Esme turned towards the two men. “Now, if you excuse me, I am going to find my fucking sugar bowl! I know that little bookworm and that hideous little baby have it!”

“Would you shut up!” Olaf hissed in a whisper. “Didn’t you hear me tell her that the brats left,”

Esme rolled her eyes. Her eyes narrowed. “I will find those brats and when I do, I will personally torture them until they give me my fucking sugar bowl.” the woman hissed.

“And what happens if they don’t have it?” Olaf asked severely doubting that Esme was right when she said the three kids had found her sugar bowl.

“ You don’t wanna know.” She hissed. “ But I can promise it’ll be a thousand times worse than whatever you did to the bookworm.” as she stormed off glancing down each hallway in hopes of finding Klaus or Sunny.

Olaf rolled his eyes as his henchperson rubbed the back of his head looking towards his boss in utter confusion. “What?” Olaf asked after a minute.

“I thought the plan was to lure the other kids with the girl,” the henchman explained.

“ It is.” Olaf hissed. “Does anybody listen to my fucking plans anymore?”

“Well, I heard you telling her that the other two have left and that you watched it from the cameras,” he explained. “So why would we still do the fake operation if we can’t lure them.”

“Oh, you imbecile.” Olaf hissed facepalming. “The operation will still go on because the Baudelaires are somewhere in this hospital hiding like cowards. They’re probably so lost and confused without little Miss Snicket to guide and protect them. They’ll be sitting ducks once we corner them and the easiest way to corner them is to trick them into our clutches using bait.”

The Hook-Handed Man nodded his head. “But why’d you tell her they left?” he asked curiously.

Olaf sighed. “You see, Hooky, you have to break your enemy’s spirit so they’re easier to destroy. If she has nothing left to live or fight for, then she’ll surrender to me,” he explains, a villainous grin plastered on his face.

“I still don’t follow,” his henchperson admitted.

Olaf lifted his index finger to his lips, indicating for his henchman to be quiet. He leaned his ear onto the door of Violet’s hospital room, ushering for the Hook-Handed Man to do the same. As the two men listened in, they could hear the loud, scared sobs of Violet Snicket, who had waited until she was alone to break down because she refused to show Olaf any weakness. As they listened in to her crying, the Hook-Handed Man frowned and felt guilty but Olaf merely smiled and tried to suppress his giddy laughter. The two men stepped away from the door after a minute or so of listening in on the poor teen.

“You hear that Hooky?” Olaf asked happily. “That’s the sound of a spirit broken. She has nothing to live for except those brats. So if you get it through her thick skull that they don’t give a rat’s ass about her...she won’t fight…”

Olaf began to walk away leaving the Hook-Handed Man who stood guard in front of the door. “The ladies are looking for an anesthesia machine to put the girl on ice as we speak. The quicker we get the other two brats the faster I am rich and the sooner they’re dead.”

Olaf followed this by laughing like a maniac once more as he walked down the nearly empty halls of the hospital.

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keep-calm-ask-the-librarian · 6 years

Link

It was only one o’clock in the afternoon and Jacques was already feeling utterly exhausted by the events of that morning.

Driving his car into the city at a leisurely pace he contemplated the series of astonishing events that had transpired that morning.

He had woken up from a beautiful dream in which Olivia was sleeping in his arms, snuggled into his embrace, both of her delicate hands clutching his own.

Not wanting to wake up just yet, he had pulled his dream-Olivia closer, buried his nose into her hair and had pressed soft, sleepy kisses on the crown of her head.

It wasn’t until she had made a purring noise that the embers of sleep that had clouded his mind began to evaporate and he’d realized to his dismay that he wasn’t dreaming in the least. He was completely wrapped around her, holding her tightly against his chest, his hands splayed over her ribcage and stomach.

Holding his breath, he eased away from her quietly, ignoring his bodily reactions to her close proximity. When he pulled his hands back, his fingertips grazed over the soft curve of her stomach and hips and he bit back a groan as he felt the warmth of her skin, even through a layer of cotton. Rolling onto his back, he lay there for a moment with his heart beating out of his chest as if he’d run a marathon, trying to get himself under control.

Next to him, Olivia, made a soft, adorably disgruntled little noise and rolled over as well, scooting closer towards him in her sleep and he all but leapt out of the bed.

He needed to go and make it out of her bedroom before he embarrassed himself completely, or worse, make her feel uncomfortable in her own home.

Quietly exiting the room, he’d all but sprinted toward’s the men’s bathroom across the hall and locked the door behind him.

A very cold shower was very much in order.

Since he was up and awake and practically freezing by the time he came downstairs, he decided to start on breakfast.

While he was toasting bread and scrambling eggs, Violet came downstairs, carrying Sunny on her hip.

“Good morning, girls,” he greeted them, handing Sunny a dish with sliced apples. “Are the Poe’s up already?” he asked.

“I heard them moving about,” Violet replied, her expression tense, starting to set the table for breakfast. “Jacques, if they are to stay until noon… shouldn’t we do something to entertain them?”

“They’re not going to stay that long,” he replied, unable to keep the grin of his face. He glanced at his watch and noticed that the large arm was slowly approaching half past seven. “Why don’t you turn on the radio right about…. now!”

At the grandfather clock in the living room struck, Violet turned the switch on the radio and second later an upbeat female voice filled the kitchen.

“Good morning to you on this wonderful Saturday! The world is very quiet here, but that’s probably because it’s practically still night. This is your very fervent DJ and we’re starting the show with an uplifting tune from the Bay City Rollers!”

Violet’s face scrunched in concentration before realization dawned. “Wait a minute… that’s Kit, isn’t it?”

“It is,” he confirmed. “Kit called in a favor from a friend at the radio station. Trust me on this one, the Poe’s will be on their way before nine o’ clock.”

Meanwhile the uplifting tunes of the Bay City Rollers were blaring through the kitchen and he lifted Sunny from her high chair and danced with her through the kitchen.

I don't know what it is that makes me love you so

I only know I never want to let you go

Cause you started something

Oh can't you see

Ever since we met you've had a hold on me

It happens to be true

I only want to be with you

Sunny giggled with delight, spreading her arms wide as he twirled her around and sang along with the lyrics.

“I never knew that I could be in love like this

It's crazy but it's true

I only want to be with you”

Mid-motion he bumped into someone and when he turned around he found that Olivia was only standing inches away from him and he froze, the words of the song dying on his lips as the memory of her warm, soft body in his arms not an hour ago came back so vividly that for a moment he forgot how to breathe.

“Good morning…” he managed eventually.

“Morning…” she echoed, her cheeks definitely more pink than normal. “You’re up early…”

“I thought I’d start breakfast…” he offered, unable to look away from her hazel eyes. Had they always been so bright?

She smiled at that, dimples and all. “Good plan…”

On his arm, Sunny bumped her forehead against his shoulder and he could hear her rather clear murmurings: “Frigie idioos”

“The Poe’s are coming downstairs,” Klaus spoke morosely and it was only then that he noticed the boy had entered the kitchen. Sure enough heavy, dragging footsteps were hold in the hallway.

From the corner of his eye he saw Violet pulling Klaus aside, presumably bringing him up to speed concerning the radio broadcast while he focussed his attention on the Poe’s who were entering the kitchen.

The moment she stepped into the kitchen, Eleonora’s face wrinkled in distaste.

“Contemporary pop music,” she said disdainfully. “How inappropriate for children.”

For a long moment an awkward tension filled the air as the song on the radio came to an end. Then there was Kit’s perky voice again:

“And here’s one for all the ladies who wonder if that one special man really wants you. In the words of the unparalleled Cher: ‘If you wanna know if he loves you so, it’s in in his kiss. That’s where it is.”

Another cheerful song filled the kitchen and Mr. Poe lengthily cleared his throat. “Something smells wonderful here.”

“Jacques made us all breakfast,” Olivia announced brightly. “Why don’t we all sit down?”

“Mr. Snicket, I must say I’m surprised,” Mr. Poe spoke, as he meticulously arranged his napkin on his lap. “I never took you for someone who was so sanguine about switching gender roles.”

When he noticed the not-related part of company staring at him with open mouths, he clarified: “Sanguine means that something doesn’t bother you.”

“We know what sanguine means,” Klaus snapped, the expression on his face thunderous.

“There’s no need for that look, Klaus,” Mr. Poe admonished him. “I am merely complimenting Mr. Snicket on his forward, feminist ways.”

If possible, the boy looked even more murderous and Jacques quickly put the plate with scrambled eggs in the middle of the table. “Well, since neither feminism nor sexism will feed us, dig in!”

Violet snorted loudly, quickly camouflaging it with a coughing fit which prompted Mr. Poe to say:

“That sounds like a very unhealthy cough, Violet. You should really see a doctor about that.”

An incredulous silence fell over the room which was soon broken by Kit’s voice.

“And now for the especially stubborn people in the audience, here are some wise words from the great Marvin Gaye.”

I've been really tryin', baby

Tryin' to hold back this feeling for so long

And if you feel like I feel, baby

Then, c'mon, oh, c'mon

Let's get it on

Ah, baby, let's get it on

The rest of breakfast passed in relative peace, the Poe’s wolfing down their breakfast as if they hadn’t eaten in months and Jacques waiting with baited breath for Kit’s announcement.

The song was followed by the jingle that preceded the news and then again Kit’s voice:

“We’re interrupting this mornings’ program for some traffic communication. Due to roadwork Longandwinding Road to the Finite Forest will be closed off for all motorized vehicles from noon today until midnight.”

When Olivia’s eyes widened in realization he couldn’t resist but give her a quick wink. Her appalling taste in music aside, Kit was executing their scheme to perfection.

The effect of Kit's announcement on the Poe's was immediate. All thoughts of breakfast forgotten, they all scrambled to their feet in blind panic.

“I can’t believe our spontaneous, little family get together gets spoiled like this!” Eleonora exclaimed, waving her hands in front of her face, her bosom heaving while her husband dissolved into a choking coughing fit.

“Calm down, everybody…” he spoke calmly over the conundrum of noise. “There’s no reason to postpone your outing. It’s only eight o’ clock in the morning, if you leave now, you’ll easily be able to reach the Finite Forest before noon, long before the roadblock becomes effective.

“It’s perfectly doable,” Olivia chipped in. “I’ll help you pack you things… children, will you prepare some snacks for the Poe’s for the road?”

“Of course!”

“We’ll get right to it!” An with a speed that defied physical principle the two eldest Baudelaires rushed towards the kitchen.

Within fifteen minutes the Poe’s were ready to leave and they all assembled on the driveway in front of the Townhouse, Mr. Poe making a great display of pompously shaking Jacques hand.

“It’s been a pleasure staying with you, Mr. Snicket and it’s so uplifting to see how the children eventually managed to land themselves such a nice, stable home.”

Next to him he could feel Olivia all but vibrating with annoyance and he bit down his own irritation with the useless bureaucrat in front of him.

“We’re very happy to have them,” Olivia replied, her voice clipped. “They’re wonderful children.”

“Well…” Mr. Poe frowned disparagingly. “They are certainly wordy, but I don’t necessarily think that’s a good thing… after all, they’ve managed to antagonize many of their previous guardians that way. I’m surprised you’re handling them so well so far.”

Olivia inhaled nosily and when he looked aside her nostrils were flaring and her fists were clenched, her entire face radiating cold fury.

A very small part of him felt it would be the chivalrous thing to throw himself in front of Mr. Poe to protect him from her rage. The biggest part of him just wished there was popcorn.

“You have absolutely no idea just how remarkable these children are…” Olivia started, her voice low and quivering with anger. “They are kind and intelligent and resourceful and they’ve stayed true to themselves and everything they believed in through everything that has happened to them.”

She was slowly advancing on the banker, every step measured and control and despite her own small statue she seemed to be looming over the man as she continued. “It’s an honor and a privilege to take care of them and I… we…” she shot a quick glance at Jacques, “are going to treasure every second we get to spend with them!”

A ringing silence fell after her speech and after long, speechless seconds Mr. Poe swallowed with difficulty.

“Well… I’m so happy it’s all working out for you.”

Jacques felt incredibly pleased to notice that the man looked at his wife as if she had put the fear of hell into him and he reflected that if he hadn’t loved Olivia already, hearing her so passionately defend their children would have sealed the deal.

“Come along now boys, Pumpkin, you too… let’s get on our way.”

The entire Poe family scrambled into the car as if they couldn’t get away from the fast enough and Jacques had never been so happy to see the tail-lights of -an admittedly well maintained- car before.

Still breathing heavily, Olivia brushed a stray lock of hair out of her face. “I probably shouldn’t have done that…” she murmured, looking somewhat dazed.

The children approached, each of their faces filled with a look of awed happiness and he knew that that exact expression must have been mirrored on his own face as he watched how the children hurried across the drive-way to bury her in a tight hug.

The City Station was quiet when he entered and made his way to the main lounge. To his surprise he found both Kit and Jacquelyn sitting on one of the couches, chatting with each other.

Well, that at least could be considered progress.

“Jacques!” Kit rose to her feet and hugged him quickly before waving him off into one of the armchairs. “How did it go this morning?”

“Splendidly,” he answered, still smirking at the memory. “They bought it hook, line and sinker. Before half past eight they were well on their way… You were very convincing.”

“I should hope so,” Kit replied archly. “I spend ages picking out the songs and putting together a convincing playlist.”

“So,” Jacques asked, his expression turning more serious. “Did you find out anything about Lemony?”

Immediately, Kit’s face sobered as well. “No… there’s a vague report that he spend some time in Tasmania, but I couldn’t get a definite conformation. So he might as well be anywhere.”

“He might be dead, like we’ve thought all along.” Jacques replied dejectedly.

“Honestly, I don’t believe that anymore,” Kit answered. “We never found a body… we all knew he was depressed about Beatrice, but none of us thought he’d be capable of harming himself… and we couldn’t have all be wrong about that… and then there are the flowers on Beatrice’ grave…”

“A great deal of people could have put those there,” Jacques answered, shaking his head. “Beatrice was still much loved and respected within the organization. And why would Lemony fake his own death? Why would he do that without even telling us?”

“Those are all very good questions to ask him once we find him,” Jacquelyn interfered. “Now, about that other matter…”

At her words, Jacques interest was immediately roused. “You have new information about Quigley Quagmire?”

“We may have a lead…’ Jacquelyn replied slowly. “If he did survive the fire that destroyed the Quagmire’s home, he could only have done so if he hid in the secret tunnels. We’re currently checking the routes to see where he could have gone to… as soon as we’ve discovered something, I’ll let you know.”

“Make sure you do,” Jacques said, getting to his feet. “Those children need to be reunited.”

“Are you leaving already?” Kit asked surprise and Jacques shook his head.

“No, I’m headed for the gym… I want to get a workout in before I head home.”

“But… weren’t you cleared for active duty a few weeks ago?” Jacquelyn asked puzzled. “Why are you still going to the gym then?”

“Because he needs to do something to relieve himself of all of that pent up tension,” Kit replied dryly. “Since he’s still too stubborn to tell his wife that he’s in love with her. On the bright side, once he stops being an idiot and finally gets in on with his wife, he will be absolutely ripped for the occasion.”

Sporadically there were moments he wished his twin would just keep her observations to herself, no matter how right she was. This was definitely one of them.

But instead of reacting to what she’d said, he turned his attention to Jacquelyn, smiling serenely at her.

“You’re looking lovely today, Jacquelyn.

“Eh… thank you…” she replied, blinking at him in surprise, while Kit just looked at him dumbfounded.

“I thought it would be nice if at least a Snicket complimented her today,” he told his sister sweetly. “With idiocy running in the family and all.”

With Jacquelyn laughing softly at his words and Kit looking at him as if she was ready to kill him, he considered his work to be done.

“Ladies, I’m off to the gym”

Once inside the locker room he took off his leather jacket and placed it on the hook, his eyes immediately drawn to the slight bulge in the right pocket.

Taking the small, square box out he sat down on the bench, carefully opening the lid.

When he’d gone to the jeweler earlier that week, shopping for items for Violet’s Viable Finder Device, apart from the book charm he’d also found the perfect wedding ring for Olivia.

The ring itself was simple, a round, citrine gemstone situated delicate band of gold.

But with it’s warm color, brightness and elegance, it was everything that he associated her with.

Smiling softly he snapped the box shut and made his way over to one of the lockers to store it away carefully.

By the time he got home, the children were in the living room either reading, playing chess or nibbling on celery. With the dreaded visit of the Poe’s behind him, Jacques could practically feel the house breathing a sigh of relief.

The fire in the fireplace was cackling softly, the children were relaxed and happy and all that was missing from this perfect picture was Olivia.

When asked, the children told him that she was in the library and he quickly made his way over, somewhat surprised that she was keeping to herself like that. When he neared the library he heard the sound of heels clicking furiously on hardwood floors and when he peeked around the door, he found that Olivia was stalking through the room, painstakingly putting the books of every separate shelf in perfect order.

Carefully he opened the door further and stepped inside and softly called her name. “Olivia…”

She whirled around as if he had shouted, her face flushed and her eyes wide with panic.

Worry immediately crawled at his chest and he quickly made his way over to her. “What’s the matter?”

Up close he could tell that she was almost hyperventilating, her eyes glassy with tears. “I ruined everything, didn’t I?” she asked hoarsely.

Getting alarmed himself over her distressed state now, he forced himself to remain calm. “What could you have possibly ruined? Olivia, what’s going on?”

“I yelled at Mr. Poe this morning!” she exclaimed, looking as wretched as if she was confessing to committing a murder. “I shouldn’t have let him get to me like that, but when he said those horrible things about our children… I just…”

She took a deep breath that ended in a sob. “When the court hearing comes, he’ll make sure the judge knows that I’m unfit to be a parent… they’re going to take the children away and they’ll be on their own again… and then I’ve failed them…”

“Olivia, stop it!” It came out a lot harsher than he’d intended but he couldn’t listen to her self-reproach a second longer. She broke of mid-word to dissolve into tears and he did the only thing he could think of. Pulling her into his arms, he held her close and rubbed her back as she cried, whispering soothing nonsense into her hair as she cried herself out.

When she had eventually calmed down a bit he pulled back a little. “None of those things is going to happen,” he told her firmly. “No judge in their right mind is going to take the children away from someone who cares so much for them as you do.”

“But I antagonized Mr. Poe…” she started to protest.

“Well, technically, you didn’t say anything that could be considered as an insult to his character,” he answered, reaching into his pocket to pull out a handkerchief, which she took gratefully. “You only told him how much you love Violet, Klaus and Sunny… “

She sighed, shaking her head. “I should have kept my composure… I shouldn’t have let my feelings get the better of me.”

Very much aware that he was still having his arms around her, but reluctant to let her go, he risked taking the handkerchief from her hands to dab away the last tracks of her tears.

“You didn’t do anything wrong,” he assured her. “If anything, you’ve let the children know that they are loved… that is never a bad thing.”

As he’d hoped, that argument got through at last.

“You’re right,” she said, a hint of a smile appearing. “The children should know that. Nothing is worse than growing up and feeling like you’re an inconvenience to everyone around you.”

His heart clenched at what she’d unwittingly revealed with her words and he cursed himself for wasting so many months, keeping her at arm’s length.

Olivia took another deep breath, some of the tension slowly evaporating. “Sorry for blubbering all over you,” she offered slightly embarrassed.

“Don’t you dare to apologize for that,” he told her firmly, his whole body aching when she stepped away from him.

A thought occurred to him then and he looked at her quizzically. “Have you been worried about this all afternoon?”

“It started right after you left,” she admitted, smiling ruefully. “The more I thought about what I said, the more worked up I got… I told the children I needed to do some re-shelving… I didn’t want to upset them as well.”

“Why didn’t you just call me?” he asked, his mind reeling “I would have come home straight away!”

“Oh… I… I didn’t think about that,” Olivia replied, and from the slightly astonished look on her face he could tell she genuinely hadn’t considered the option. “You were meeting Kit… I didn’t want to bother you.”

He resisted the urge to shake her and then kick himself for making her think that he could ever feel bothered by something that was upsetting her.

He hadn’t been much of a husband to her, but if it was up to him he was determined to change that.

“You can always call me,” he vowed. “Not just only when something involves the children, but you as well… I want to know!”

She blushed at his words, but her smile was radiant. “Thank you.”

“You’re very welcome,” he told her softly. The urge to pull her close again and to tell her how much he loved her was overwhelming.

Tonight.

Tonight he’d tell her.

Having survived the Poe’s visit, they celebrated that evening with cheese fondue. Gathered around the table, slowly dipping chunks of bread and bits of vegetables into a boiling pot of Swiss cheese, Jacques contemplated that life simply didn’t get better than this. For one evening he allowed himself not to worry about Esmé Squalor and her henchmen still being on the run, or the fact that Quigley Quagmire hadn’t been discovered or if his own brother was still alive. For one evening he simply soaked in the happiness of simply being with his family.

With the Poe’s visit behind them it seemed like a weight had been lifted from their shoulders. And with Olivia’s fierce declarations of how much she cared for them, all three of them seemed to be just that bit more secure.

Olivia herself was radiant, her face glowing in the light of the kitchen and the flame underneath the fondue. Whether she was talking with the children about the latest book they’d read or the projects they were working on, of feeding Sunny bits of carrot, smothered in cheese, her eyes were sparkling and he had never been more mesmerized by anyone in his life.

Once the children had gone to bed and the dishes had been cleared away, he prepared tea for the both of them and they sat down at the kitchen island.

“It’s been quite a day,” she remarked softly and he nodded absent-mindedly, trying to figure out a way to say what he was about to say.

“Olivia…” he started eventually. “There’ something I need to discuss with you.”

Immediately he hated the way the words sounded, as if he was about to breech a difficult topic. And her suddenly sober expression only increased his vexation with himself.

“That sounds ominous…” she ventured carefully.

“I should hope it’s nothing too dreadful,” he replied flippantly and then he steeled himself. He could fret about this for weeks to come, but procrastinating wouldn’t get him anywhere.

He’d waited long enough, it was time to tell her.

“I just wanted to say,” he said, starting again. “That when we first met and during the time when we were looking for the children, I have felt at times that there was something between us… a spark, if you will… At the time I thought it was highly inconveniently…”

He was making an utter hash out of this, he realized as he listened to the words that were coming from his own mouth. And the fact that Olivia had gone pale to her lips only confirmed it.

“Jacques…” she started, her voice quivering. “Before you say anything further, there’s something you should know…”

Taken aback by her interruption, he nodded slowly. “Of course, what is it?”

“I will admit that when we first met I may have given off the suggestion that I thought or even hoped that there was going to be something more between us…” Olivia started with difficulty, never really looking him into the eyes. “And I understand how that might have made you feel.”

The implication that she did have feelings for him caused his heart to expand in his chest and for a few moments that was all that registered with his brain.

Then he became aware of the fact that she was still talking.

“I want you to know though that any… silly notions I may have entertained in the past are completely over now.

You’re my best friend and I’m so happy to raise the children with you, but those are the extent of my feelings, I promise you.”

The truth hit him harder than Olaf’s crowbar could have ever managed.

She was trying to let him down gently. Whatever feelings she may have had for him in the past, she had completely moved on from them now. And she was trying to spare him the embarrassment of doing something incredibly stupid like confessing his love for her.

She had cared for him once, but she didn’t anymore and he had no-one to blame for that, but himself.

His blood was pounding in his ears, bile rising in his throat as the full implications of her words filtered through his brain.

She didn’t want him anymore.

Then he became aware of the fact that he hadn’t spoken yet and that Olivia was gazing up at him with anxious eyes.

“I… that’s good to know.” To his own ears, his voice sounded endlessly tired and defeated. His throat was closing up and eyes were stinging and suddenly the room was too warm and too oppressive.

There was nothing else to say. He couldn’t make her uncomfortable by declaring his feelings now, after all, it wasn’t her fault that he had single-handedly managed to destroy every affection she’d ever felt for him.

She gave him a small, hesitant nod before looking down at her feet. “I”m glad we got this sorted out.” Her voice sounded oddly forlorn, but he was feeling too wrangled to really pay attention to it.

There was a full cup of tea in front of him, but staying in her presence any longer would only torment him further.

“I-I’m rather tired… I think I’m going to call it a day…” he mumbled, unable to meet her eyes.

“Yes, it’s been a long day,” she agreed quietly, gathering their cups. “I think I’m going to tuck in as well…”

“Good night…” He was so close to tears that his voice came out like this strangled thing and if he didn’t want to create a scene, he had leave right now.

Without saying another word, he turned around and bolted out of the room.

#jacques snicket and olivia caliban #jolivia fic #asoue #asoue season 2 #jacques snicket #olivia caliban

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s-softersoftest · 6 years

Note

I just need to know where this goes: "You seem … lost. Is there anything I can do to help?”

Prompt 10-

It is not cowardice that stalls him.

Lack of alcohol, perhaps.

Awareness of bad history.

Sudden and overwhelming emotional discomfort.

Certainly not cowardice, Olaf thinks, the words bitter in his mouth as if he had spoken.

He stands in the darkened main hall of VFD’s headquarters watching whirls of snow drift beyond the grand windows. Meanwhile, at his back, a masquerade commences, one that he has not yet had the fortitude to join.

Years ago, he thinks, safely cocooned in his armor of impudence and casual cruelty, Olaf could have sauntered into the ballroom without a backwards glance, sneering as if he loathed the whole thing, and spent his evening camped at the bar- full of gossip and snark and the kind of masculine bravado that made women want to kneel.

Even now, standing in the shadowy dark, listening to the grandiose swinging of their music, he could imagine stepping into that identity like a well-worn and beloved pair of dancing shoes, a performance, a spectacle, and-

entirely wrong.

Penniless despite his villainous plots, his shame only slightly outmatching his bitterness, (his Troupe gone, his home derelict, his whole life as appealing as a slowly sinking ship-) he had come seeking advice from the one man who had annoyed him for decades with the promise of immediate redemption.

“I want what’s best for those I respect and admire. That includes you, Olaf.” Jacques had said, already offering his hand. “You’ve got a keen mind and a flair for the dramatic. If you reinvestigate your ethical priorities, you could help repair the world instead of filling it with smoke.”

Salvation, before, had seemed too clean. Too merciful.

Jacques Snicket shook his hand despite the blood between them.

After months of suspicion and training and intense paranoia from every volunteer he could imagine (except, he remembers, Jacques and Beatrice-) Olaf had slowly gained enough rapport to be invited to the masquerade. Dressing, travelling, arriving, he could do. It was being seen alone, crippled, reduced, that made him hesitant, haunting the front hall like a spectre in the low light.

Olaf glances to the glowing ballroom where volunteers stand drinking and chatting or twirling together on the dance floor, too far away to guess at identity. He straightens his silken bowtie, examines his shiny shoes against the ornate tile floor frosted with moonlight.

Cowardice, he thinks again, utterly disgusted with himself.

Light footsteps interrupt his brooding.

“Oh! Hi…”

A young woman stands across the front hall, having just returned from one of the headquarters’ many balconies, her long, wavy hair still flecked with snow.

She wears a pale linen dress, ruffled at the low-cut bodice, the neckline dipping beneath her collarbone and swinging wide off her shoulders. The sleeves hang belled at her wrists, tied at the ends with thin, black ribbon. The hem is cut raggedly at her knees as if she had shorn it herself, the blade dull and rusty.

She is, almost certainly, Olaf thinks, one of the most beautiful sights he’s ever seen.

There is a small moment, quick as a heartbeat’s span, where they examine one another, eyes roaming and raving and meeting.

“Um-” The young woman says, hurrying on small, pale flats to his side. Up close he finds her even more divine- all long eyelashes, full lips, and a flush to her cheeks that only good wine brings.

By the time Olaf finally looks into her eyes he finds them rapt and concerned.

“You seem… lost.” She says, voice sweet as it is decimating. “Is there anything I can do to help?”

“I’m not lost.” Olaf says, tearing his eyes away from her to glance to the ballroom. “I’m buying time.”

“Buying time, huh.” She repeats, sounding doubtful. He sees her eyes linger on his hands, clasped and empty. “Don’t you have a mask?”

Olaf does not even bother to check. “No. Don’t you?”

The young woman frowns, patting along the curves of her hips as if she is used to having several pockets at once. “Ah. No. Must’ve forgotten it in the taxi.”

“Forgetful, are you?” He mutters, teasing, testing.

“No,” The young woman insists. “I’m as forgetful as I am sneaky. Which, in this case, means only in the most important of circumstances.”

“Ah. So you forgot your mask on purpose.” He examines her closely, watches her expression go neutral, attempting a veiled facial disguise.

“What makes you think that?” She asks, too sweetly.

“You’re outrunning someone.” Olaf decides. Then, just to watch her squirm, “A boy?”

She holds onto neutrality for a moment more before the expression falls away with a laugh. Conceding, she says, “Alright. Fine. Yes. But two boys, actually. The Quagmires won’t leave me alone.”

“Ah, the perils of pretty young women,” Olaf laments, “Always doomed to be pestered by anyone easily charmed.”

He flicks his fingers lazily, glances her over without trying to hide it. Then, “Take it as a compliment, my dear. Their eyes seem to be in working order.”

“Ah, you’d think.” She says with a shrug. “I am flattered. I just don’t care.”

“How harsh.” Olaf teases. “You’ll tear their hearts to shreds.”

She shrugs again, flips her hair wide over her shoulder, exposing the long slope of her throat, pale as a candlestick. “If a purposefully forgotten mask buys me some time while they try to find me, it’ll be worth it.”

“Well there’s your supposed forgetfulness. What about your sneaking?”

“Oh. That.” She mutters, glancing towards the ballroom as if afraid someone might overhear. “It won’t be necessary here. I use that particular talent at home most often.”

She casts him a peculiar glance, studying him as if expecting epiphany or rebuke.

He opens his mouth to reply, something cloying and questioning, but she beats him to it, holding out her hand in introduction.

“Violet Baudelaire.” She says, casting him a dazzling grin. He takes her hand, soft and warm as a peach, and even that small brush of contact has Olaf’s stomach dropping like a schoolboy’s, as if his composure had fallen out from under him like a splintered trapdoor. “I’ve been listening in on all the talks you’ve had with my mom and Jacques. And I’m not telling you how, so don’t ask. But I’m very excited for you to finally return to VFD. You seem very genuine.”

“Baudelaire. Of course.” Olaf says, “You’re a little eavesdropper, hmm?”

He watches a blush swamp her cheeks and thinks, like any growing addiction, that he could get used to seeing it.

She offers him another smile, a hint of wickedness in it. “Yes. I had to know why a strange, handsome man was suddenly arriving at our house.”

Olaf, surprised more than he’d admit, nods slowly. When he tries to meet her eyes, he finds Violet staring towards the ballroom, an odd, pinched look to her face, as if she had tried and failed to keep from embarrassing herself.

“Handsome.” He says, smug and low. “Violet, do you realize that in the short span of our conversation, you’ve described yourself as forgetful, sneaky, and utterly uninterested in two boys your own age?”

“Playing my hand too forcefully, huh?” She says, meeting his eyes with a calculative look. “Pardon my tactlessness. I’ve been watching you leave our house for months and not saying a single word to you as per my dear mother’s request. I had hoped to charm you into a dance. In-”

“You were looking for me.” Olaf realizes suddenly, as sure as any truth he’s spoken. “Up on that balcony.”

Violet doesn’t deny it, merely continues, “Indulge a young woman in her silly crush, Olaf. Help me avoid the Quagmire boys. Dance with me.”

Attraction, that wild ache, makes his heart race. Olaf, playing at uninterested, says, “And disgrace my good name by arriving to the masquerade with a lovely young Baudelaire on my arm? They’ll crucify me.”

Violet examines him, a slow grin uncurling on her delicate face. It is at this moment he realizes how intuitive and effortlessly smart she must be.

“You’re tempted.” She accuses, holding out her hand, an eager invitation.

“I’m more than tempted, Violet.” He says, offering his elbow. “Your little scheme is a success.”

“I’m a master at purposeful forgetfulness now.” She says with a laugh, threading their arms, her palm hot on the crook of his elbow even through his sleeve. “Master at sneaking. At scheming, too.”

“Congratulations.” He says, sarcastic and already affectionate. “I’ll reward you with a dance.”

“Oh, only one?” Violet pouts, dragging him towards every person he’s ever done wrong.

“Don’t push it, Baudelaire.” He says, knowing he will bend to her wishes, will dance with her until his feet ache, will return to VFD entranced and consumed and heartswollen, his whole being engulfed in whimsical allure for Violet Baudelaire- if only for a night, hesitation and morality and cowardice be damned.

#eternallost #thank you #hope ya like it #Violet: best at sneaking 10/10 confirmed in everything i write #i love writing violet as a happy snarky teenage girl #where she hasn't been fucked by grief and vfd #it makes my heart happy #asoue #violet baudelaire #count olaf

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