#I am violently afraid of theft

[chocolatesauce-blog-blog]

Uzi would be the kind of person to ask you to close your eyes and hold out your hand only to put a live spider in your palm :3

[factual-fantasy]

27 Asks! Thank you! :)) 🍰

Comments and interaction are the only way I'm afraid.. But your comment doesn't have to be some lengthy and clever compliment. Simple comments like "I love this! :D" "Looks great!" "ASJDKNF" and "Lovely drawing!" will work just fine. <:)

I promise I'm not gonna look down on those comments in anyway. If someone commented on 100 posts of mine with very simple and even copy and pasted responses, I wont be annoyed- if anything that will clearly show me that this person is trying to show their appreciation for my art will also respecting my boundaries. I'll appreciate it a lot is what I'm saying! XD

Even so, if its still too much pressure or you feel too awkward, I totally understand. You don't have to interact at all if you don't want to! I wont look down on you for that either. You can drop a simple like and leave it at that! :)

I am! :D Although I'm not fully in the loop- apparently there's been an update..? :0

@paper-starz

Ooo I love the drawing! :D In return I present to you!,

Whoppers! :DDDD

@muratandlina @misscherrypie @pink088

WAHGG THE BOOPS!!! THE BOOPS!!! XDDD

@ocinstituterep

When it comes to transformers? I would say its probably impossible to fully memorize their design line for line <:( at least it is for me!

All I can advise is to draw up a very extensive ref sheet for them, as I have done before. <:T

(Link in ask)

Ugh, this is getting exhausting.. thanks for telling me though.. <:)

@neo-metalscottic (Cake hound and Tuna post) (recent Gravity Falls art)

hello hello! :D I've been hanging in there, recent art thefts and tracings has been pretty disheartening.. but I've been doing my best to move past it <:)

Also thank you! :DD I'm glad to hear you liked my cake hound artwork! :)) As for names, I was gonna say that they don't have names and aren't canon yet.. but then two names came to mind <XDD

The name Chief seems pretty fitting for the old chocolate cake hound :0 And I imagined the name Bailey for a smaller vanilla cake hound that tuna might have in the future! :0 Think of a golden retriever :00

As for Gravity Falls, I will admit it was nice to draw Stanley again! And thank you kindly for all the compliments! :DD But man, does it just make me think of all the old embarrassing GF posts I made in the past.. 😅 I'm glad you liked it none the less! :))

And lastly, I'm not sure what kind of coffee Stan would like :0 but he strikes me as the type to say "I like my coffee BLACK like my SOUL" but then secretly fills it with 75% sugar and creamer XDD

@feline-controller

I've watched the original show in its entirety, they're absolutely hilarious and very witty XDD and their 1960s DeSoto adventurer was such a cool touch to the show! It's a shame the show didn't last longer.. 😔 Also Sam is my favorite of the two :))

I have! :0 They're outfits are always so wild <XD

@readeren

All of Gummigoo is squishy! XD

I have never heard of it <:0 sorry!

@minnesotamedic186

As I state in my pinned post,

Any and all dubbed videos of my artwork is theft as I will never give anyone permission to use my artwork in their videos 👍

@holly-opal

I did have a comic in mind where Wally wakes up from a nightmare and and its sends him into a panic attack. But he doesn't react the way you describe, quite the opposite actually :0

I pictured that he has a more silent panic. Where he shakes violently, his eyes are wide an he's sweating bullets. Unable to speak all the while. Even when he starts to cry he doesn't react to the tears, they just drip down his face silently.

He ended up thinking "Its okay, you're panicking. You're just panicking" but when that doesn't calm him down he thinks "Just call Barnaby. Talk to Barnaby and he'll calm you down, go call Barnaby."

He stumbles to the phone and while its ringing, he hears the floor creak behind him he whips around and knocks the phone off the table. The crash sends him over the edge and he drops the phone to run and hide. When Barnaby picked up his phone and no one replied.. he became really worried.

You cant accidentally butt dial someone on those old phones. Someone intentionally called him and then seemed to drop the phone.. knowing Wally has been acting off lately, he couldn't shake his worry and went out to check on Wally.

When he got to the door and knocked, he heard a vase shatter in Wally's house. Barnaby burst in and found Wally in a state.. The rest is what you can imagine. He comforts Wally and stays with him the whole night. They talk about his nightmare and the sleeping problems he's been battling.. things like that :0 Barnaby is goated :)

@octonauts16

The only brain rot word that doesn't drive me crazy and that I use unironically is "sus" XDD

@spottedsplash

Awe, thank you! That's very sweet <:)) I'm glad to hear you like what I've put up! :DD

IS THAT A MOOSHROOM COW WEARING IRON ARMOR??

@captain-skyler1987

I took me way too long to notice Goku on the left side XDD

Also yes I do! :D I'm getting better at recognizing a handful of my followers :}}

@beryl-shade

I watched Caseoh play it on YouTube :0 Although the parkour style game play was fun and refreshing!.. I wasn't particularly interested in the story as a whole 😅 I just saw it as yet another mascot horror.. <:/ FNAF holds my interest in that category <XD

@caronaro-flipaclip

His theatrical tone can be a liiitle annoying sometimes. And I cant not hear Finn the human when he talks <XD

But otherwise I like his character :) I feel kind'a bad for Gingerbrave sometimes- it kind'a feels like a lot is expected of him. Everyone is constantly asking him for help and he's always the one trying to defuse any given situation. Poor guy.. <:(

@fandomcenteralral

Reminds me of cult of the lamb! I love the critter 💞💞

@milmaxtor

ME WHEN PEOPLE SAY THEY LIKE WHEN I POST XDDDD

(Referencing this post)

Yes of course! :D People took the time out of their day to interact with me, the least I can do is respond to their questions properly! <:))

Also thank you! :DDDD

(Link in ask)

The song wasn't really my taste, but the artwork was great! :))

Welcome home got an update? :0 I had no idea! I guess that would explain the sudden influx of Poppy artwork.. 🤔

@shamelessboiledwater

XD I hope you remember sometime soon!

@minnesotamedic186

That I am! :) I've even drawn the gang before! Buster Moon is my favorite character :)

[welcome-to-ratterrock]

Do u the creator and Sage has a similar definition for "obsession" with death or death in general?

I think everyone has different or similar definition for that topic but I'm curious on what is Sage pov abt it

Ppl always avoid this topic and they are usually weirded out or get scared when someone talk about it (personal experience, very few ppl are comfortable with that topic and bless their heart for not being scared)

@bajingoarts says:

I was raised really catholic, grew up my whole life learning about resurrections and rebirths. Obsessed with the imagery of our messiah literally suffering and dying on a cross above our heads. I’ve always found death both fascinating and terrifying. To some it’s the beginning, to others an end. To me death is as neutral as the sea. Dangerous and unpredictable yet beautiful and mysterious. 

It doesn’t mean it does not frighten me, it’s natural to fear an end. But the approach and understanding that an end is coming makes me try and appreciate the peace and life I have.

If people stopped obsessing over the afterlife–an idealistic peace after this one and simply view death as a natural end to life…then maybe folks would open their eyes to the random, strange, horrifying, and beautiful realities of the here and now…

I think Locke is a lot like that. Viewing the violent deaths he investigates as the theft of life. He isn’t afraid of death, we all die…but some die unfairly and gruesomely. Locke wants to pick apart the reasons, the motivations, the way someone died…perhaps to better understand how they lived. I think we can all relate to feeling isolated from those around us, I think Locke feels most isolated from the living, and feels he can only relate to them through their death…

It might sound twisted, but I think Locke feels he can better service those who died than he can those who are living. When designing him I wanted him to almost look like he had a skull pattern on his face, like he was a gatekeeper to the afterlife…a reaper who collects lost souls. 

Y’know…a sexy emo boy.

@suzie-guru says:

Ever since a very young age, death and what it truly means has always been something I’ve contemplated. What would it be like, to not be a part of the vibrant rush of the living world, to have my existence truly end? If I am not my body but a soul that resides within it, where would my soul go, what would it perceive? Death awaits me, everyone - it is as natural as the tides of the sea and the phases of the moon. Mortality is a brief and precious flicker of a flame before the certainty of death comes to extinguish it. But what did death actually mean? What happens after we draw our last breath? 

For an undeniable and unavoidable fact of life, one of the key things about death is that what happens after we die is truly unknown. Church told me one thing, then relatives and or friends would tell me another. What did I believe in? Would contemplating something that didn’t align with Christianity mark me out as a failure of faith, unable to go to heaven? At the very least, I knew I wouldn’t be able to experience what I loved, what was comfortable and familiar and known, that which I could somewhat control. Death? That was, is, the ultimate unknown. 

This realization frightened me as a child, and even as an adult I get unsettled when I dwell upon it. I’ve always struggled with the unknown, that which can’t be explained or understood, and I take comfort in what is familiar and understandable. 

But now that I’m older and more mature, along with that unsettledness is an intense appreciation and gratitude to the beauty of life, its pleasures and sensations. I love exploring and celebrating new experiences, whether it’s trying a new drink or traveling to a different country, and I recognize and relish the quiet joys of the day to day, the feeling of sunshine on my skin or the nuzzles my cat gives me. Life is about sensation and we are built to enjoy those sensations. As someone who has been at the lowest of lows because of depression, I very much intend on enjoying what is enjoyable and beautiful about this world with the time that I have. 

Interestingly, that’s a trait I share with Padraic Regal - his lows of life have been so very low, so horrible and heartbreaking, that he’s very much a hedonist now, determined to enjoy the best of the beautiful and bliss inducing things his world has. Though he’s willing to break the law and bend morality to get what he wants, and I’m not (I promise!). He knows how quickly life can turn to death, how a beautiful healthy bloom can wilt and wither, and he wants to make his time on earth something special, experience everything extraordinary and exquisite to the point of ecstasy. 

He, like me, also wants to endure beyond his death, take back some of the total control by having his name live on. As a writer and artist, I want to have my work and the worlds they contain to continue on, be shared by others so that a part of me will still endure, still offer hope and comfort and inspiration and insight. Padraic wants his name to be whispered with awe, and he doesn’t care if it is awed admiration or fear. Both of us want to create something that will stand the test of time, do something meaningful and worthwhile with our lives before it is our time to go. Vita brevis, ars longa. Life is short, but art is eternal. For me, my art is literally that, art. For Padraic, his art is his profession, his criminal genius. Perhaps both of us are motivated by that unspoken promise of the briefness of mortality…

[thxnews]

Defending Britain in a More Dangerous World

Grant Shapps' Vision for National Security

Defence Secretary Grant Shapps recently delivered a compelling speech at Lancaster House in London, addressing the evolving threats facing Britain and the measures needed to ensure national security. Reflecting on the past, Shapps drew parallels with the optimism of the post-Cold War era, noting how contemporary threats differ significantly from those of the past.   The Following is the Exact Speech as Delivered Thirty-five years ago, Margaret Thatcher gave a short speech here in Lancaster House. She spoke of her optimism about the changes taking place between East and West. Barely two weeks later the Berlin Wall fell. It was the dawn of a new era. Existential threats were banished. And a new global feel good factor spread to Defence. This was the age of the peace dividend. The notion that while our defences should be maximised at times of tension they could be minimised in times of peace. Conflict didn’t disappear of course. But with no great power menacing the continent, peace gave the impression of being just around the corner. Yet, not everyone got the memo. In fact our adversaries were mobilising. The belligerent autocratic state was making a comeback - havin got away with the illegal annexation of Crimea in 2014, Putin launched his brutal invasion of Ukraine eight years later. And as Russia continues its illegal campaign in Ukraine, China is assessing whether the West loses its patience. Today, Russia and China have been joined by new nuclear, and soon to be nuclear, powers. North Korea promising to expand its own nuclear arsenal. And then there is Iran, whose enriched uranium is up to 83.7%, a level at which there is no civilian application. Back in the days of the Cold War there remained a sense that we were dealing with rational actors. But these new powers are far more unstable, and irrational. Can we really assume the strategy of Mutually Assured Destruction that stopped wars in the past will stop them in future, when applied to the Iranian Revolutionary Guard or North Korea? I am afraid we cannot. Particularly since there is now another new worrying consideration: Our adversaries are now more connected with each other. For example, we have seen how Iranian proxies are causing havoc from Israel to the Red Sea. That Russia has what the two countries describe as a “no limits partnership” with China - with whom they conduct regular joint exercises. Meanwhile, Putin is relying on Iranian drones and North Korean ballistic missiles to fuel his illegal bombardment in Ukraine. With friends like these, the world is becoming more dangerous and has done in recent years. But the other threats that plagued the start of the 21st century haven’t gone away. The spectre of terrorism and threats from non-state actors, as October 7 showed, still haunts the civilised world. Put it all together, and these combined threats risk tearing apart the rules-based international order – established to keep the peace after the Second World War. Today’s world then, is sadly far more dangerous. With the UN reporting that we are facing the highest number of violent conflicts since the Second World War. Now some argue these threats are not existential to the UK. And yet, what happens elsewhere, quickly happens here. In the past few years we’ve seen terror attacks on the streets of London, attempted assassinations in Salisbury, theft of Intellectual Property, attempted interference in our political processes, a cost-of-living crisis, brought to you by Putin, that’s hurting families here at home. And now, our trade. 90 per cent of which comes by sea, is the target of terrorists. Proving that not only do our adversaries have the intent to target us but they have a widening array of weapons with which to wreak havoc. In our online world our adversaries don’t need to jump in a tank board a sub or strap into a fighter jet to hurt us. Cyber warfare simply means hacking into our networks and watching the economic carnage unfold. Last year, almost a third of businesses in the UK suffered a cyber breach or attack. And the total cost to the UK economy runs into billions. We know significant numbers of these attacks come from Russia and China where they are also developing satellite killing technology, capable of degrading us from space. Even mass migration can be cynically used against us as a weapon of war, as Poland, Norway, and Finland have been experiencing. In other words, nation states plus non-state actors with greater connections between them plus more creative weapons all adds up to more trouble for the world. Over the last decade this government has made great strides to turn the Defence tanker around. The refreshes of the Integrated Review and Defence Command Paper have been instrumental in ensuring Britain is defended in this more dangerous world. We’ve uplifted our defence spending – investing billions into modernising our Armed Forces and bringing in a raft of next generation capabilities, from new aircraft carriers to F35s; from new drones to Dreadnought submarines; from better trained troops; to the creation of a national cyber force. And when the world needed us, we have risen to the moment. Giving Ukraine our unwavering support and galvanising others to their cause, including with our biggest ever funding package, announced last week. Taking action, we work to stamp out the global ambitions of Daesh. We’ve acted at the forefront of global responses to maintain regional stability after October 7th by sending a Royal Navy Task Group, a company of Royal Marines, surveillance planes and lifesaving aid to Gaza. And taking a lead role within global forces to protect freedom of navigation in the Red Sea. Not only that but we’ve strengthened Britain’s place in the world with expanded partnerships from the Gulf to the Indo-Pacific. We’re playing a major part in stirring the West into a renewed commitment to defence, using our 2014 NATO summit in Newport to bring Alliance nations together to stop the rot, by committing to spending 2 per cent of GDP on Defence. Today, for the very first time this government is spending more than £50bn a year on Defence in cash terms, more than ever before. And we have made the critical decision to set out our aspiration to reach 2.5% of GDP spent on defence. And as we stabilise and grow the economy, we will continue to strive to reach it as soon as possible. But now is the time for all allied and democratic nations across the world to do the same. And ensure their defence spending is growing. Because, as discussed, the era of the peace dividend is over. In five years’ time we could be looking at multiple theatres involving Russia, China, Iran and North Korea. Ask yourselves – looking at today’s conflicts across the world - is it more likely that the number grows, or reduces? I suspect we all know the answer – it’s likely to grow. So, 2024 must mark an inflexion point. For Ukraine, this will be a year when the fate of their nation may be decided. For the world, this will be the greatest democratic year in history with nearly half of the world’s population going to the polls. And for the UK it must also be a moment to decide the future of our national defences. The choice is stark. Some people, especially on the left, have a tendency to talk Britain down. They believe Britain can no longer have the power to influence world events. That we should somehow shrink into ourselves and ignore what’s happening beyond our shores. I passionately believe these unpatriotic, Britain belittling doom-mongers are simply wrong. Their way would lead us sailing blindly into an age of autocracy. So we must make a different choice. And the history of our great island nation shows us the way. Britain has often accomplished the seemingly impossible before. Our history is littered with moments when we faced down the threat and triumphed. But looking ahead, we are in a new era and we must be prepared to deter our enemies, lead our allies, and defend our nation. In terms of deterrence, it’s about the UK gaining a strategic advantage over our enemies. The foundation of that advantage is, of course, our nuclear enterprise. At a time of mounting nuclear danger, our continuous at sea deterrent provides the ultimate protection. And that’s why we are spending around £31bn to bring in next generation Dreadnought submarines and upgrade our deterrent. In a more contested world, we need to bring that same goal of deterrence to our conventional forces – so we have made modernisation a critical priority. Taking the long-term capability decisions we need to transform our Armed Forces into a formidable deterrent. Enabling them to maintain the UK’s strategic advantage and empowering them to be able to deliver the outcomes we need in multiple theatres at once. The growing success of that work was powerfully shown last week when, in less than 24 hours, the UK was able to both take action to defend ourselves against the Houthis and uplift our support to Ukraine to new record levels. If Putin thought we’d be distracted by the events in the Middle East then last week, because of the long-term decisions this government has taken, his hopes were surely dashed. In a complex world, no nation can afford to go it alone, so we must continue strengthening our alliances so the world knows they cannot be broken. Defence is in many ways the cornerstone of our relations across the world. Our world leading Armed Forces, cutting-edge industrial base and willingness to support our allies is the reason why Britain is the partner of choice for so many. And among our partnerships, NATO remains pre-eminent. 75 years after its foundation, today NATO is bigger than ever. But the challenges are bigger too. That’s why the UK has committed nearly the totality of our air, land and maritime assets to NATO. But, in 2024, I am determined to do even more. Which is why I can announce today that UK will be sending some 20,000 personnel to lead one of NATO’s largest deployments since the end of the Cold War, Exercise Steadfast Defender. It will see our military joining forces with counterparts from 30 NATO countries plus Sweden, providing vital reassurance against the Putin menace. Our carrier strike group will be out in full force, with our magnificent flagship HMS Queen Elizabeth leading the way. And flying from her decks will be the fifth generation F35 lightning jets, accompanied by a fearsome phalanx of frigates, destroyers and helicopters. We’ll also have a submarine patrolling the depths and one of our Poseidon P8 aircraft conducting surveillance from the skies above, and more than 400 of our brilliant Royal Marines will be training in the Artic Circle, contending with some of the toughest environments anywhere on the planet. On land, we’ll be deploying over 16,000 soldiers, led by our 7th Light Mechanised Brigade Combat Team which superbly led our recent response in Kosovo. All of which, makes this our largest deployment of land forces to NATO for 40 years. But NATO is only part of our rich tapestry of partnerships. And this government has taken bold decisions to embark on the partnerships we need to defend ourselves from a more dangerous world. We are rapidly building our AUKUS partnership. And last month I signed our Global Combat Air Partnership (or GCAP) with Japan and Italy. These projects are not just about building nuclear powered subs, sixth generation fighter planes, and innovating in all forms of Defence. They are about sharpening our strategic edge so we can maintain our advantage over our adversaries. They are precisely the deep relationships needed to preserve national and regional security. And they’re emblematic of the way we will work in the future. But it’s not enough to deter. We must lead. Standing up for our values around the world. And Ukraine is a test case. This year, its future may well be decided. Valiant Ukrainian warriors have had incredible success pushing back invading Russian forces, retaking 50 per cent of the territory stolen by Russia, opening up a maritime passage in the Black Sea. But the West must not let them down. British leadership has already had a galvanising effect. We’ve convened some 10 countries to help Ukrainians train here in the UK. And today I can announce that our programmes have now trained over 60,000 Ukrainian troops since Russia launched its invasion of Ukraine in 2014. Last month, I launched a new maritime coalition with Norway to defend Ukraine’s maritime flank. Since then, over 20 partner nations have joined that coalition. But the international community cannot let this support slip. Putin believes the West lacks staying power. And since the future of the world order is at stake, we must prove him wrong. Rewarding his war with victory would only increase the risk of escalation. Not only because he’s hell bent on rebuilding the Russian empire. But because it would signal weakness to other would-be aggressors. That is why on Friday the Prime Minister signed the historic UK-Ukraine Agreement on Security Cooperation. The start of a 100-year alliance that we are building with our Ukrainian friends. It sees us increasing our military support to £2.5bn – taking the total of UK military aid to more than £7bn. With even more gifted directly from the UK’s equipment inventory. £200m will be pressed into producing and procuring thousands of drones, including surveillance and long-range strike drones. This continues the UK’s proud record as a leading donor - always being the first to get Ukraine exactly what they need. The UK was the first to provide Ukraine with weapons training, the first to provide NLAW anti-tank missiles, the first to give modern tanks, the first to send long range missiles. Now we will become the largest provider of drones too. These will be manufactured here in the UK in tandem with international partners, helping to enhance our unmanned vehicle capabilities at home too. But our new agreement with Ukraine is about so much more than money. It formalises our support in everything from intelligence sharing and cyber security to medical and military training. And it sees us taking the first giant step towards a century long partnership. Britain understands that the battle in Ukraine is existential, it proves there is no such thing as an isolated conflict. And that to shore up the international order, we must be able to act globally. So, just as we were there to help evacuate British citizens from Sudan last year, just as we are working with partners to ensure the territorial integrity of our Commonwealth ally Guyana, we have also been a critical part of the US-led international operation to protect freedom of navigation in the Red Sea and the Gulf of Aden. Some 15 per cent of the world’s shipping passes through these narrow shipping lanes. But the Houthis have persistently violated the law by menacing commercial vessels in the region. In the Red Sea we have seen how our brilliant Royal Navy had to act to defend itself against the intolerable and growing number of Houthi attacks. And earlier this month the world sent a very clear message to the Iranian-backed Houthis. End your illegal and unjustified actions. Stop risking innocent lives. Cease threatening the global economy. We could not have been clearer with our warnings, which they chose to ignore. And enough was enough. So last Thursday, the Prime Minister and I authorised RAF precision strikes using four RAF Typhoon FGR4s and supported by two Voyager air refuelling tankers. The result is the Houthis have been dealt a blow. Our decisive response in the Red Sea and our uplift in support for Ukraine offer a direct blueprint for how the UK must continue to lead in the future. Offering our unwavering support to our allies, and in times of struggle galvanising global responses to any malign actor seeking to break the rules based international order, and acting decisively when the moment calls for us to defend ourselves. So, deter and lead, which brings me to the final essential element of being prepared. Defending our nation. If we are to defend our homeland, we must ensure our entire defence eco-system is ready. Firstly, we must make our industry more resilient to empower us to re-arm, re-supply and innovate far faster than our opponents. There’s a huge opportunity here for British industry. The UK has long been a by-word for pioneering technologies. We gave the world radar, the jet-engine and the world wide web. We’ve not lost that spark of creativity. On the contrary, today the UK is one of only three $1 trillion tech economies. But just imagine what we could do if we managed to better harness that latent inspiration, ingenuity and invention for the Defence of our nation? Just think about the game-changing tech we could supply to our brave men and women. From the pilots ready to scramble at a moment’s notice to the soldiers protecting NATO’s flanks from Putin’s fury. To the sailors deployed across the seven seas to secure our prosperity. To our absolutely essential Royal Marine Commandos, without whom we could not properly defend our nation. To those you will never see and never know but who are out there, giving their all, on your behalf. They are the cornerstone of our defence and we owe them an unimaginable debt of gratitude. Which is why my commitment to getting them what they deserve is iron cast. After all, our greatest resource has always been the men and women who work tirelessly to protect our great nation. But to defend our nation from the increasing dangers of tomorrow, they must have what they need to do the job. That’s why this Conservative government has always and has already taken vital steps to increase defence spending, approving the largest sustained increase in defence spending since the Cold War – injecting a further £5 billion last year to replenish our stocks and modernise our nuclear enterprise. Delivering the largest cash terms defence budget ever. Spending over £50 billion on the defence of our nation. And just last week, not only maintaining our support to Ukraine but increasing it to its highest level ever. To some the costs may seem steep – but Britain cannot afford to reverse the spending gains we have made. And under this Conservative government we never will. And we will use our influence to ensure other allies and friends, faced with this new reality, and match our commitment. So, we find ourselves at the dawn of a new era. The Berlin Wall a distant memory. And we have come full circle. Moving from a post-war to a pre-war world. An age of idealism has been replaced by a period of hard-headed realism. Today our adversaries are busily rebuilding their barriers. Old enemies are reanimated. New foes are taking shape. Battle lines are being redrawn. The tanks are literally on Europe’s Ukrainian lawn. Read the full article

[hobicomeholla29]

Cuff me if you can - Part 1 - KTH

Pairing: Dad! Street Racer! Taehyung x Judge! Reader

Genre: Fluff/ Slight angst/ Crack

Word Count:5k

Warnings: Mentions of domestic violence/ Cursing/ Mentions of bribing/ Probably incorrect use of legal terminology/ Incorrect legal procedure/ That’s all for this chapter. Oh! unedited!

Rating: PG13

A/N: Well hello again beautiful people! Thank you for taking the time to read this! This sieres are part of BTSghostie writer event for the month of september. Dynamite Dads!

Summary: Kim Taehyung and yourself, live your lives on the opposite side of each other. Yet that doesn’t mean that you can’t meet in the middle.

Masterlist

Getting out of your car, the cool morning breeze caressed what it could of your exposed skin. The walk from the parking lot to the courthouse wasn’t long, but the chills that ran through your body made it feel like it took a little over the usual 5 minutes.

The sun shined like every morning, yet today it felt different somehow.

Maybe it was wishful thinking, but it felt as if today would be the beginning of something new or different, and that was a lot to say for someone like you.

“Morning judge y/n!”

“Morning”

Your job placed you in a position where you were always in the eyes of criminals and felons that were either angry, moody, violent, sad or careless  ­—and any other word you can come up with, when thinking about wrongdoers who are finally facing the law­­— forcing you to try seeking for positivity in other aspects of your life.

 Since you were a child, you always had an itch that annoyed you every time you had to be in the presence of an unfair or unethical situation and couldn’t do anything about it.

 It is positive to say that you got it from your mother's strong moral views on righteousness, honesty, and integrity.

 And so a dream came up to you, a dream you had expressed to your parents at the tender age of 5 while watching cartoons one cold morning, your parents discussing the latest incident on that morning's newspaper on the other side of the room.

 "I want to put all those kwiminals in jail"

 There was something fulfilling about being able to help people get justice for the wrongs that were done to them, something about making the corrupt, nefarious, and unlawful pay. Your dream never wavered, the sole thought of what the future would hold made you buzz with excitement during your teenage years and still did now in your adulthood.

 It was present during your entire life, you weren't afraid of speaking up when a witness was needed in an unfair situation in school, whether you were putting yourself in a position against a classmate or a teacher, all that mattered was that the problem was solved in a fair manner.

 Yet, even though you kept steadfast loyalty towards your beliefs, it sometimes got you in trouble, as not everyone sees good in someone openly voicing their wrongdoings. Leading you to sometimes being labeled as a snitch —and no one wants to befriend a snitch—.

 Nevertheless, you pushed through, finally meeting people that shared your views in college.

 It was nice to be able to have a conversation with people with the same mentality and strong feelings towards justice as yourself —not saying that you didn't encounter people who were walking this path just for the money.

 And finally, after graduating from law school with two of your closest friends by your side, you decided it had been way too long of a peaceful ride for the evildoers and it was time to get with it.

 "Good morning Y/n!" A voice spoke loudly from behind you.

 "Morning Guk! How was your weekend?" It was always nice to see Jungkook 1st thing in the morning. For some reason, his cute bunny teeth always gave you life.

 Jungkook was one of your friends from college AKA best friend #1. He had the face of a baby with the wisdom of a 70-year-old man –who would have thought.

 His words towards you were always of encouragement or offerings of helping you with anything you needed –just like in college.

 He was methodical with his work, always studying his cases with a careful eye and with discipline. Some hated it, stating he took way too long to make final judgments, however, there wasn't a ruling that Jungkook had ever issued where the victim had been left to suffer the mischief without the guilty paying the price.

 "Pretty calm actually, taking into consideration that I had the Kang case on Sunday" The younger of your friends exhaled "That man has got to get a grip on his life, this is his 3rd showing" He made a pause as if bringing up some memories from the case, however, he quickly returned to the present "How was yours?"

 "It was quiet; abnormally so, thus my wild guess is that this week I'm going to be assigned as many cases as possible."

 "I know that feeling. The impending doom crawling towards you in the shape of Jimin dropping them on your desk."

 “Yep…” You sighed bracing yourself for the upcoming day.

 Briefly talking about other uninteresting subjects and your mundane lives –like, when was Seokjin going to invite both of you out for lunch— you both eventually parted ways to your own chambers.

 "Good morning Judge Y/n"

"Morning Jimin, you look refreshed!"

 Jimin —your perky judicial secretary— was the earthly version of an angel mixed with a dutiful fairy, you sometimes wondered how he even managed to hold up that 1,000-watt smile all day while dealing with you.

 You had been working together for 3 years now and every year they decided to rotate the secretaries, you prayed they wouldn't change him for someone else.

 "I am! Thanks for the days off, they really helped!"

"Don't mention it bubs. What do you have for me today?" You asked as your heels clicked on the tile making your way behind your large rectangular Victorian style oak desk, Jimin quickly trailing behind you with a stack of folders in his arms.

 "These four are for today and these four are for tomorrow" he said as he divided them into two groups in front of you. "I'll have the ones for Wednesday and Thursday ready by tomorrow" he concluded with a small nod and a smile of accomplishment on his plump lips.

 "Thanks, Jimin. What would I do without you?" you smiled up at the younger man, who smiled wider and turned to leave to his own desk a couple of feet away from yours.

 Finally, mentally prepared to start your day —after mindlessly scrolling through your phone for 20 minutes— you unlocked your computer and began reading through the files that Jimin had left on your desk labeled ‘Monday’.

 "Another asshole, who thought he could get away with a hit and run..." you muttered to yourself, as you reviewed the first case.

 The following trials were for a domestic violence case and 2 robberies.

After reviewing the files, you began transcribing some of the information on your computer, adding personal notes based on the evidence that had been collected for each case and saved it all for its intended use in the next 2 hours.

"Since no one likes a slacker, I might as well go through the ones for tomorrow as well."

As expected, there was another case of robbery, one for theft, a case for assault and last but not least a misdemeanor for street racing. 

After an hour of transcribing that called for a well-deserved break, you stretched your arms above your head, sighing softly as the tension was released.

 "Judge... would you like some tea? I'm on my way to the Cafe"

"Ugh Jimin, I love you, why are you so sweet, I'll come with." As you both picked up your belongings and were about to head out to the small cafe across the street, an unforeseen visitor arrived abruptly, startling both you and your secretary.

"Oh, so you're both slacking off now. I thought that was a Y/n thing?"

"I- No judge- we-" Poor Jimin couldn’t even complete a sentence, his mind still in a jumble as a result of the sudden barge into your chamber.

"Seokjin, shut up.” You cut your eyes at his comment. “We are going to the café. You either come with or move out of the way." You laughed a bit while pushing past your best friend #2, making your way out.

Oh, how lucky were you to be able to have them working near you.

 Back from the cafe and ready to face all cases for the day, you walk to your chamber accompanied by Jimin who helped you wear your black robe, both quickly headed to the courtroom for your first trial right after.

Monday had gone by smoothly; all cases being addressed as they should and all sentences set in place.

Tuesday was a better day, the morning had been less chilly than the day prior and you could read a bit before your hearings of the day, since you had proactively  reviewed the cases of today, yesterday.

After the third time hearing it today, a fourth was just unnecessary, however entering the courtroom for the fourth time on that day, you heard the bailiff announcing your arrival.

 “All rise. This court is now in session.” Shuffling could be heard, a sign of everyone in the room getting on their feet. “Honorable judge Y/n L/n Presiding.”

You took your seat and announced to everyone that they could do so too. You took the files that the bailiff handed you and began reading the case.

 “Good morning everyone. Today's hearing is for case 3476, the city vs Lee Simon, Kim Taehyung and Jean Reynolds” you announced.

 “Lee Simon, Kim Taehyung and Jean Reynolds, all three of them, age 26, accused of trespassing private property, injury of a third party and driving over the speed limit, while being timed against each other. All of it initiating from 25th avenue to Map of the Soul street.” You concluded.

“How do you plead?”

“Innocent” “Guilty” “Innocent”

 Internally, you wanted to laugh, but you knew your position required for you to remain serious and focused. It wasn’t the first time a group of friends split due to being involved in a situation they weren’t expected to be in, and it wouldn’t be the last.

 “Seeing that you have different views, let us review the information presented.”

Videos and pictures from street cameras were shown, as well as footed from a dash camera in a hidden police vehicle.

 “Evidence shown so far, seems to portray all three of you as guilty, and the witnesses are yet to come in, excluding the owner of the vehicle you crashed into while running against each other as well as the owner of the private property you drove through.”

 You watched all three of them carefully as you gave them a run through of how this case was going on for them. Two off them looked indifferent, like someone who has done it before, did it this time and will probably do so again.

A chance was soon to be given to all three of them to express why they believed they were innocent, however another piece of evidence was brought in.

“According to this report sent in about your record, you are all repeat offenders, meaning that your options are limited; paying for the legal fees and community service, paying for the legal fees and 1 year jail time or paying for the legal fees, suspension of your driver’s license, a fee of $10,000 and a possibility of impoundment of the motor vehicle used in the crime.”

 "I am going to admit I was there, but I did it for a specific reason, your honor."

"And what reason could that be?"

“Can I approach the bench?”

“Permission granted." The man in question slowly approached you, eyes never wavering from yours.

"I needed the money your honor. I have a daughter..."

"Says here, that you have been detained before and gave out the same reason, so why should we let you off easy Mr. Kim?"

 “So… there is no way we aren’t paying the legal fees -I take it?” the one with the tiger-like eyes spoke up, a small smile playing on his lips as he did so.

“No” the frown on your face was so pronounced, that no area was left for more of his attempt to banter.

“Do I get the easier outcomes if I plead guilty.”

“That’s a possibility...” Now you know why he pleaded guilty. He’s not new to this.

“I have a daughter your honor… I can’t go to jail” He said before you were able to add to your previous sentence.

“That’s for me to decide, however, can’t she stay with a family member?”

“She only has me…” his eyes turned gloomy as he directed his gaze to the floor Infront of you. Should you even trust that action. It could be staged for all you know.

It annoyed you the way how the immediate mention of a child felt like a tool he was using to soften the blow of your possible verdict. However, it still got under your skin and you felt your hard-exterior crumble, allowing your feelings to take over and think about the poor child that would have to deal with an uncomfortable situation.

“How old is your daughter Mr. Kim?”

“four” His demeanor changed entirely the moment he found more time to speak about the hypothetical child he had.

“Who is she with at the moment?”

“A friend”

“Everyone back to their seats…”

You were so predictable. Jungkook would have never softened for something like that.

He would have given him 2 years in jail, taken his car, taken his driver’s license and custody of the child as well, for not being a suitable parent. But no, you had to be like Seokjin, soft hearted and taking people’s feelings into consideration. Bleh.

 “Based on the evidence collected. I am ready to provide a verdict for this case. Lee Simon and Jean Reynolds you are sentenced to serve 6 months of county jail time, pay a fine of $5,000 plus all legal fees and your license will be suspended for 6 months. Kim Taehyung, you are sentenced to a fine of $3,000, suspension of your driver’s license for 6 months, paying the legal fees and community service for 6 months.” You stated re arranging the documentation on your desk and setting them aside.

“Please take them. Mr. Kim shall be escorted to the officer’s department in order to have his rules set in place.”

“Thank you.” A voice said to you right after. You didn’t have to turn to know it was Kim Taehyung, however you did so. He was flashing you a large square smile. It wasn't 1,000 watts like Jimin’s but it was still warm and different, even a bit playful if you looked at it for long.

“That daughter of yours better be real.” You muttered before collecting the final documentation and exiting the room.

But not before hearing.

“Didn’t know they had such pretty judges in here, I should get arrested more often.”

You should have put him in jail. Or maybe not.

It’s funny how you haven’t been able to get your mind to stop remembering his cheeky squared smile and that aura of a playful child in a large man. It's been 2 weeks now.

Yet you can’t forget him walking up into your courtroom with all that confidence, as if he owned the place.

“Ugh”

“Everything ok?”

You gasped loudly, not having heard Jimin enter the chamber as you mindlessly rolled your mouse around and thought about the man who you sentenced to community service a couple of weeks ago.

“You nearly killed me Jimin!” you voiced a little louder than you should have, the fright still showing in your tone.

“I'm sorry" poor kid, all he did was be nice all day.

“You're fine, I just didn’t hear you come in” you answered, returning to aimlessly move your mouse and stare at the open word document on your computer screen.

“Oh! I see. Well in your favor, I was trying to be quiet. Anyways, what are you doing here so early judge y/n?” leave it to Jimin to always worry about others.

“I thought I could… focus on something else by working a little, but the chambers triggered my distractions even more…” You tried internally to not bring it up, but you knew you had to tell someone about it.

About the fact that maybe you might have an itty-bitty tiny crush on a man you barely saw for a span of 40 minutes and convicted for a crime. You are so lame.

Jimin moved around his desk -you assumed- arranging all of his documents for the day and bring his computer to life.

“and what is it?” he asked you after a couple of minutes of comfortable silence.

“What is what?”

“The distraction that's caught your attention, what is it?” his eyes stared at you widely, they looked so earnest and kind. Just wanting to help you with whatever inconvenience you were having.

“Um… well… you’ll probably think it's dumb"

“I promise I won't” he answered so fast, it felt like he was expecting you to decline opening up to him.

“Well…. I… kinda-have-a-small-crush-on-a-man-I-barely-know-and-could-be-a-scofflaw.”

Your sentence had come out abruptly and in such a rapid fire, that you could see the cogs turning in Jimin’s head as he connected all the things you had said and laced them together.

“Did you just say scofflaw?”

“Is that all you caught from my sentence?” flabbergasted, that's what you were with his reaction.

“No, but… really? scofflaw? Not even judge Harry who's 78 uses that term anymore.”

“Not the point Jimin…" frustrated at the weird turn the conversation had taken, you pinched your nose bridge, trying to figure out the young man's train of thought .

“Ok, ok. But is it one of the guys from a couple of weeks ago. The street racer ones?”

“How do you-"

“Eva from the reception said that, Joyce from finance told her that, Hyerin from chamber 5, saw them being called in on their hearing day and that they were all —her words, not mine— as hot as a super-sized bag of flamin hot Cheetos.”

 Now that’s stuck in your mind. Jimin was definitely not helping.

 “Curse you, procrastination!”

 Grocery shopping should have been done weeks ago. But you were tired, and sleepy and distracted and everything in between that could keep you from doing the boring task that  buying your own food was.

 Walking through the aisles in the grocery store, you could hear a little girl talking her —probably parent's— ear off.

 Not paying too much attention to her, you were barely able to catch a couple of words here and there as you walked around picking up what you needed.

 "Fishies would be a good pet because I can't hu't it if I hug it awound his house"

"Why can't I see my own eyes?"

"Can we get vanilla this time, stwabewies we'e yuck!"

"How do clouds float? Why don't they fall?"

"Look! Look! A toy!"

 She sounded so excited and the little lisp with her R's was the cutest, you thought.

 You were almost done with your list, only missing some meat or poultry and a pound of potatoes, —'cause you've been craving gratin potatoes for a while and you were done living a life without them.

 Making your way to the missing items, you could once again hear a conversation going on between the little girl and the other person, but this time the adult with her spoke. It was a grave voice, very deep and somewhat familiar, yet not enough to put a face to it.

 "You are not having a pet, until you understand the responsibilities that come with taking care of an animal" The voice answered the little girl sternly. You could imagine the man's face voided of any emotion and trying to maintain a serious visage. Probably trying to teach his daughter a lesson.

Again, the voice sounded familiar, giving you a tingling sensation in the back of your mind. However, in your distraction, the links that attempted to connect in your mind remained ignored.

 You continued rolling your cart, hastily turning around each corner; ready to pick up what you were missing and bolt home to make the delicious meal you have been craving for.

 However, you were suddenly stopped by another cart that crashed right into yours as they rushed towards you from around the corner.

 "Oof, My bad" - "Oh no! I'm so sorry!"

 You both said in unison.

 “Oh...” Came the immediate reaction from both of you, as you noticed who the person you had bumped into was.

 "So, the whole you having a daughter wasn’t a lie after all"

 "You offend me your honor." Was his reply as he chuckled a bit to himself "But I guess I am not a good example of what a decent human or father should be like..."

 "Oh Hush! We all make mistakes. Even some that land us in Jury or court" You giggled a little trying to soften whatever thought had him thinking he was the worst human ever to walk on this earth.

 Of course, he had made a mistake —a couple of them at that—   but it wasn’t murder, and he was attempting to make an income for his family.

 "What's her name?" You asked him as you both watched her eyeing the fish tank you assumed she saw the fish at before.

 "Yoonah. But she prefers to be called Nah-Nah" His voice mellowed. You looked at him with a smirk on your face, but all you got was the sight of a man watching his daughter with the fondest of gazes. So much love could be found in his eyes, he was proud and filled with warmth. The small smiled that decorated his features said it all.

 “Is she your only daughter?”

 Your question brought him back to the present.

 “Oh, yeah – she is” Was his curt answer. The tone he used made you feel a bit guilty, as if you were way too into his business, so you decided to cut it short.

 “Well it was nice meeting you outside of court Mr. Kim –and little miss Yoonah as well.” Were your final words as you waved your hand swiftly and left to finish your shopping, missing entirely the smile that graced his lips when he heard you address his little girl.

 For some reason, you hoped to see them one more time before you left the store, just to make sure they were ok —even though there was nothing dangerous at a grocery store.

 --

After so much fussing and so many tantrums, Kim Taehyung was finally tired out.

It could be seen from a mile away, just by watching his shoulders slightly slump and Yoonah grinning up at him with a content expression.

 Naturally, the best view of your day was Kim Taehyung walking out of the grocery store with four bags on one shoulder and a small plastic bag in his right hand, filled with water and two gold fish swimming peacefully.

So much for the sterned voice he had back there.

 You lingered a little more on your way to your own car, head turning slightly to your left, just to watch him interact with his daughter. You are sure you look like a creep, but it was so endearing, you couldn’t help yourself.

He kept her close by while he loaded the trunk with groceries and tickled her sides while placing her in her car seat. N sight of a father that didn’t care for his daughter or an irresponsible parent. Yeah, that was going to be your excuse for staring longer than needed.

 Yet what was a little more time for you, was enough to give him a full view of you watching them both with something in your expression that he couldn’t read, but whatever it was, had his heart racing a little more than it should for somewhat of a stranger that could put him in jail.

You’re not sure if it’s one of those times where once you meet someone one time, you end up seeing them everywhere.

How is it possible that on a chill evening in the park, while you were enjoying a slow-paced stroll and a hot chocolate in your hands, you see him again. You are about to start thinking that maybe he is following you and in addition to committing his past crime, he is also a stalker.

But he couldn’t be. He’s not even looking at you. From your short distance from him, you can see his eyes trained on something else. A fond smile decorated his lips as if whatever held his attention was above everything in this world.

From this angle you could appreciate his profile. A very handsome man you should say.

His eyes slowly crinkle into smaller half-moons in favor of his now growing smile taking more space. His teeth now baring and the apple of his cheeks flexing.

Oh! what a sight.

What would it feel like to poke them? you thought to yourself.

Yet, your legs had other plans and were already in action. Your brain had already sent signals to your arms and fingers to poke all soft parts that it came into contact with.

You are a judge, for goodness’s sake, touching someone without their authorization is battery. What are you doing?

 Yet right before you were able to do so you heard her.

“Daddy!” The soft giggles that followed filled the air that surrounded you. You turned your head to the direction of the sound and just in time you caught the sight of a little girl running from the playground into Taehyung’s arms.

Before you even turned to him, he was already catching her, squeezing her tightly in his embrace.

“Did you see that daddy? I did it!”

“Yes, you did princess! And you were amazing! Best cartwheel I have ever seen!”

The little girl giggled and squealed as Taehyung blew raspberries everywhere around her.

 When she finally calmed down, her eyes met yours and her head tilted in questions.

“It’s the groceries lady daddy!”

Turning to look at who his daughter was pointing at, he met you, only 3 steps away from him.

“Jud- Judge Y/n?”

“Hi again Mr. Kim, seems like we keep bumping into each other.”

“So it seems.” Today his smile was a careless one or was it a content one. Either way they were still that remarkable boxy smile.

“Nice to see you again miss Nah-Nah.” You greeted the little girl that had noticed you first and a hearty giggle left her body in return.

“What brings you here?” Asked the man that you had somehow forgotten was by your side or maybe you were just trying to ignore the strong tiger eyes that bore into you by entertaining a conversation with his cute daughter.

“Daddy, can I go to the big slide?”

“Not, without supervision Nah-Nah.” He answered so seriously, it reminded you of the voice in the grocery store.

“But daddy, I am a big gu’l now”

“Nah-Nah…”

“Daddy…” he sighed so loudly; you couldn’t help but laugh at his odyssey.

It was Deja vu from the grocery store and fish all over again. All that big father talk for nothing. He was so whipped for his daughter.

“Ok, let’s make a deal…”

“Yes!”

“You can go to the big slide, but if you get an ‘owie’, I want you to get up and dust off just like big girls do. Ok?”

“Yes, daddy.”

“Ok, princess. Go on”

Not a second went by after his sentence and little Yoonah was already off to an adventure with the rest of the kids in the park.

“She is so precious”

“Thank you”

You both stayed in a comfortable silence, staring into the distance in the direction Yoonah had left of. However, that peace was cut by the man standing near you.

“So, are you following us now your honor?” That playful smirk of his was back, alerting you quickly that he was just attempting at a friendly banter with you.

“Hmm, maybe I am, but I’ll never let you know.” You said winking at him.

He laughed so loud at the action, that you could not hold back a laughter of your own.

“So you do have a sense of humor” He stated after calming down.

“I do, when I am outside of my line of work.”

“Understandable…”

Once again, a comfortable silence fell between you both as you watched his daughter running around filled with glee, playing with other children.

“So, who were the ugly judges you encountered before me?” Now it was your turn to start the conversation and again he laughed. Who would have thought you were this funny.

“So, you did hear that.”

You definitely did and deep within you hoped he meant it. Even though it wasn’t the time or place for his flirting.

“Maybe…”

“I meant it… just in case you were wondering.”

Yes, you were!!!

“Oh! I- umm… Thank you.” You could feel your face heating up, however you refused to end the eye contact you were keeping up since your conversation began.

“Anytime… Like honestly. Any. Time. And every time. I’ll repeat it every time I find it necessary.” He said his smile growing with each word that he sent your way. And you, well you weren’t one to back down on a flirting challenge.

“And how is that possible, if we don’t see each other all the time?” you asked, acting coyly.

“I might have a solution for that, your honor.” Welp. Now you got yourself into something.

Two weeks had gone by since that day.

Two weeks after Mr. Kim had asked for your number and invited you for ice cream with Yoonah, under the excuse of a thank you for not sending him to jail. Needless to say, you quickly corrected his statement to not have him think this was a favor you had done for him, but a decision you had made based on evidence and circumstances surrounding the case.

It had also been a week since Mr. Kim changed from that name to Taehyung.

The mocking that came with you saying his given name for the first time was endless.

“Awww, so no more Mr. Kim?”

“Shut it Taehyung!”

[frodos-bizarre-adventure]

@gingerreggg oh yeah we're back baby

Heads Up- Part 19 (Joseph x Bust! Caesar)

▪▪▪▪▪▪▪▪▪▪

"Shall we pack these up too?" Mark asked, as the maintenance man began unloading the artworks into the van. The winning masterpieces would be auctioned off to other museums, with the blessing of their creators, to find fame and bring fortune elsewhere.

"Take them all," said Professor Straizo nonchalantly, indifferent as he usually was.

It was late evening as Mark and Professor Straizo began dismantling the exhibit. The exhibition was over, and soon one by one the entries began to disappear.

Save for one.

One familiar-looking bust that was in secret unlike all the others.

"And this one too?" Mark asked, gently but uneasily picking up the sculpture and straining under its weight.

Professor Straizo glanced at the bust. Its brilliant green eyes gazed at him, seemingly piercing into his very soul, and it made him very uncomfortable looking at it for long.

"Put...put it away with the rest," he said, waving his hand away. "That Joestar boy can probably just make a new one with his skill if he wants it, just get it out of my sight."

"Huh, I guess he won't miss it all too much," Mark shrugged, as he lowered the bust into the van. "I'll just tell him where we took it in case he does want to see it again."

-------

All the while Caesar stood unmoving, on his pedestal, frozen in place like the lifeless art piece he was intended to be. He was waiting for Joseph to come back.

He was waiting for Joseph to take him home.

But now he felt himself being carried, handled, and transported by the maintenance man from the previous night. The strange, gloved hands felt uncomfortable and unwelcome upon his base.

This was not part of the plan.

He wanted to scream and cry and struggle, call out for Joseph's name. But he knew he couldn't. He knew he couldn't risk exposing his true nature to others, as Joseph had warned him about. The consequences would be dire. And he didn't even know what they would be. Besides, even if he did try to fight back, what else could he do? He was a bust.

He was helpless.

Joseph..., he thought silently, as strange hands lowered him into a crate in the backseat.

And if his handler had been looking more closely, he would have seen a look of sorrow on the inert figure's painted face.

------

It wasn't long before Joseph strode into the hall, eager as ever.

"Caesar! We've come to take you home! We've--"

And then his joy melted into horror as his greeting ground to a halt.

Caesar was nowhere to be seen.

"Caesar! Where are you?" he cried, searching all around the gallery. Everything else had gone too. The paintings, models and statues, all had been moved away to make room for the next exhibit.

"Jojo! What's the matter?" Suzi huffed as she caught up with him.

"It's Caesar..." Joseph said, his voice cracking slightly in despair. "He's gone."

"Looking for something, Mr. Joestar?" asked a deep voice, from behind. Both Joseph and Suzi turned around, to see the raven-haired professor of earlier, leaning against a wall.

"Oh, Professor Straizo," Joseph said, managing to maintain his composure as well as he could, "I was looking for my sculpture. You know, the bust? The one you graded earlier this day? I'm sure you remember him--it," Joseph pleaded.

Straizo turned away indifferently. "I'm afraid Mark has already taken the artworks to another gallery, perhaps to be auctioned or put up on display."

Joseph's heart sank. This was what he'd feared the most.

Losing Caesar.

"But...but I said Professor Lisa that I could take it home! That project was mine alone and belongs with me!" He fought back a tear and his swelling rage. He felt betrayed.

Straizo snapped. "Listen here, Mr. Joestar! What in the world is with your inordinate attachment to that disturbing figure? You could create another one if you want! It's just a piece of clay!"

"Not to me, it isn't," Joseph growled through clenched teeth. "That sculpture is not just clay for me. He means everything. I loved him more than anything else in the world. If only you knew..."

Straizo raised an eyebrow in utter bewilerment. What did he mean 'he'? And by 'loved'?

"This boy is delusional," he said to himself.

"Well, if you want it so badly then go plead to Mark, he's got your...whatever it is, at the auction gallery," he groaned in address to the increasingly distraught Joseph. "Do whatever you want with it as long as I never have to see that thing again."

Without another word Joseph stormed off, Suzi following behind.

He couldn't let them take Caesar.

Not on his watch.

--------

Caesar had no clue where they were taking him. The back of the van was dark, and he wasn't tall enough to peek out the window to assess his location.

But he felt uneasy. He knew Joseph was worried.

He knew Joseph would be wondering where he was. And he couldn't even call for help.

He hoped, with all his being, that Joseph would come for him.

His thoughts were suddenly interrupted, however, when the van suddenly jostled, shaking violently and screeching to a stop. He was shaken in his box by the sudden movement, and before he knew it the vehicle had stopped in his tracks, and he could hear Mark's loud complaints from the front seat.

"Dammit! I think I busted a tyre..." he grumbled, stepping out the vehicle. Caesar heard a click, and saw a faint light shine into the back, freezing in place as the flashlight passed over him.

"Well, good thing nothing's broken," Mark mumbled as he inspected the contents of the van, relieved that none of the art was damaged in the little fiasco. He headed over to the front wheel, to check the damage, and his haste, left the back of the van open.

It was a big mistake.

Peeking through a slit in the box, Caesar could see a small figure approaching from the distance, and without warning, peeking into the box that contained him and grabbing it tightly. For a moment Caesar hoped it was Joseph come to take him back-- but he realized too late it wasn't his beloved Jojo at all, but someone much smaller.

And had Mark paid more attention, he would have noticed the small figure of a child dashing away from the van and into an alley-- clutching in both arms a crate that harbored the most unusual artwork of all.

---------

Twelve-year old Smokey Brown was a bit of a victim of circumstance.

He'd lived in the streets for years, surviving off his wits, after having fled from a neglectful household. It was a tough life for a young boy, but he had little choice in the matter.

It was the only life he had known for a long time.

He'd made a living off petty theft and pickpocketing, a livelihood he wasn't all too proud of, but one that filled his aching stomach when there was nothing else within reach. He'd lived off the kindness of strangers for so long, but over the years, they had become less generous-- and he had to play rough to make it out in the harsh and cruel world.

And today he'd hit a jackpot.

He recognized the van of the art department. Perhaps they had something of value? He'd seen an opportunity when the hapless vehicle had struck a flat tire, and the driver had carelessly left the back open.

Perfect.

He saw his chance, and seized it. Grabbing a small crate that was well within reach, he hurried off with his prize. It was heavy and made him use both hands, and inwardly he grinned, as he felt this was something of worth.

He retreated to a small, abandoned warehouse several streets away, where he'd been sheltering for the last few days. Exhausted from the strain of his thievery, he sat down against a wall and dropped the box heavily onto the ground.

And to his surprise, he heard a groan from inside.

------

At once Caesar regretted reacting to the rough handling.

He hoped his captor wouldn't notice, but as the box opened, he knew right away that he'd been exposed. He tried freezing in place, but it was too late.

The boy screamed in shock, prompting a startled cry from Caesar, who in his panic tipped the box over. He at long last got a good look at his unwitting kidnapper-- a small, dark-skinned boy with short, curly hair and a small braid at the back of his head.

He definitely wasn't Joseph.

And he most certainly didn't react the way Joseph would.

-------

Smokey stumbled back in shock at the sight of the contents of the box.

It was a head.

A sculpted head, but one that looked so real that for a moment he feared it was a real severed human head, until he touched it and was relieved to feel it was clay.

But his moment of relief was short-lived: for the head, despite being clay, had moved.

It was alive.

Somehow.

"Y-you're alive!" Smokey stammered as he tried to collect himself. "You're...real?"

Caesar sighed. He knew there was no point in pretending.

"You're like, the fourth person to ever see me and they've all reacted the same."

"You're talking..." Smokey gasped in shock, still not over the surprise. "You're a talking clay head." For a moment Smokey felt he was going mad. Was this some divine punishment tugging on his conscience for his crime?

Caesar laughed dryly as he struggled himself upright. "I get that a lot," he muttered, as he began to hop closer to the startled boy, who stumbled backwards and fell to the floor with a crash.

"Stay away from me!" Smokey pleaded, shuffling backwards at the sight of a talking, bouncing head. "What are you? Where did you come from?"

"Quit freaking out, kid," Caesar complained. "I can't hurt you even if I wanted to, and I don't", he scolded.

"What are you?" Smokey repeated.

"I am a clay bust courtesy of a certain Joseph Joestar," he answered. "I'm his grand masterpiece."

As surprised as he was, Smokey could see a hint of sadness in the strange being's face. And now he couldn't help but feel pity for the figure he had stolen.

He was a thief, not a kidnapper. There was a difference.

"Joseph Joestar?" Smokey asked. He'd heard of the name before. "Like...the artist?"

"Huh, so you have heard of him," Caesar mused. "Never knew Jojo was so famous." Smokey heard how fondly the bust spoke of his creator, and felt remorseful.

He scratched his head. "Listen there, clay head...man?" he mumbled. "Whatever you are, I'm real sorry I stole you. I didn't mean to, alright? I was after some stuff but...you're not stuff, I guess. You can talk, for one."

Even at the indignity of being stolen, Caesar couldn't help but feel warmly touched at being seen as a person, by someone else.

"Well then, kid, you can make it up for me by helping me find Joseph. I'm sure he wants me back."

-------

(Previous Chapter)

(Next Chapter)

[mariekiki50]

Miles Edgeworth: Ace Attorney

– Turnabout Starters –

 December 29, 2001 – 08:41 AM

Wedio General Hospital – Patient Room

 December 28, 2001 was the date Miles’ life changed drastically.

For the worse, that is.

He just did not know it yet.

The sun creeping in what was awoke him, and his eyes slowly fluttered open; he sat up in his bed. The first thing that struck him was that everything was white around him. So white that it could not be natural, and this was when Miles thought something was off.

He did not what, though. His memories were still fuzzy and confused, and he could not remember for the life of him what had happened for him to be here. Because, he was quite sure now he was in a hospital.

Before he could reflect further on this, however, somebody knocked at the door and came in before Miles even allowed him too. It was a nurse, who had probably been working in this hospital for years, given her age. She was dressed in white, her grey hair tied back into a strict bun; she eyed Miles sternly before she told another person to come in. So, I have some visit, Miles thought, puzzled. He was even more surprised when he recognized who the person was.

She was in her thirties and had short curly black hair with piercing blue eyes. Her clothes were nothing extravagant, she had kept things simple by wearing a thick pullover with trousers and boots and had an anorak in her arms.  It was winter, after all, so her outfit fitted the season. Except a wedding ring, she did not have any jewels or accessories on her, neither had she a scarf or gloves, but she removed her wooly hat when she stepped into the room. Her complexion was olive, but her smile was as bright as Miles remembered.

Mrs. Wright.

Miles had met her quite recently, actually, but his father had known her for much longer. It had all started when one of Edgeworth’s classmates had been accused of stealing his lunch money. If Miles had not known better, the poor boy would have been punished while he had not done anything. Funny how it had turned out that said boy’s parents were friends of Miles’ father. So it was only natural Miles had befriended Phoenix Wright, the child falsely accused of theft, and a certain Larry Butz, who, for a strange and unknown reason, had believed in Phoenix’s innocence too when the whole class had accused the latter.

Miles did not live with the Wrights, but he was quite sure Mrs. Wright was a very good mother. She was a widow, having lost her husband from cancer one year ago or so, just like Miles had lost his own mother in a car accident some years ago too. The mirroring of their situations was quite tragic. Despite that, Mrs. Wright had welcomed the Edgeworths with open arms, especially when she had known Miles had helped her son during a class trial. It had not surprised her that much, in truth: Gregory had been their lawyer during a tough case, and it was no surprise the son would grow up to be just like his father, one day.

Seeing a familiar face calmed down Miles a little, but even with Phoenix’s mother, he could tell something was definitely wrong. Was it in the way she behaved or in the joyful expression which was a bit too forced, the nine-year-old did not know. Maybe it was all that at once.

Mrs. Wright put her belongings on the chair in the corner of the room, and came to Miles’ side with the concerned look mothers have when they are worrying about their children. She put a hand on the boy’s forehead, while the nurse was silently staring at them.

“How are you feeling, Miles, dear?” Mrs. Wright asked, removing her hand. “Are you okay?”

“I… I think I’m fine,” the child replied, making the woman sigh in relief. “I can’t remember why I’m here though.”

“Oh, darling, there’s no need to hurry. We can take things one at a time. You should rest for now.”

Although Miles appreciated her concern, he did not feel like sleeping. He was fully awake, now, and was feeling quite well. What he wanted now was some answers about how he had ended up here.

“Phoenix isn’t here?”

“The hospital didn’t allow me to bring him here. My neighbor’s watching over him. We’ll both come to see you as soon as we can, okay?”

The boy nodded his head. He was glad to have Phoenix as his friend, and he could not wait for him to come and see him. They would talk about the brand new episodes of the Signal Samurai that were currently broadcasted on TV. Miles could not believe he had come to love this series that much. It was all because of Phoenix. And Larry too. Anyway, he was glad his friend was fine, but he still had some questions in his mind.

“What happened? Why am I at the hospital?”

Mrs. Wright bit her lips and looked at the nurse, who just shrugged. Miles was not sure what all that meant.

“So, you don’t remember anything…?”

He shook his head, and the mother sighed deeply before she answered. “You and your father were at the courthouse. Your father had a client to defend, and he took you with him because you wanted to see the trial.”

Miles’ memories slowly came back. That was right; his father had recently promised him he would let him attend one of his trials. The young boy still remembered how excited he was when he had woken up, yesterday morning. This was the first time his father had accepted him to come and watch one of his trials. As usual, Gregory’s performance had been quite impressive, and his son could not have been prouder of his father. Still, in the end…

“My father… I recall he lost the case… He told me he planned to appeal.”

“That’s right. After that, you both took the elevator.”

Ah, that was something Miles remembered too. He could even say there had been a third man in this elevator, with them, a black-haired man in his forties. He had introduced himself as Yanni Yogi, a bailiff. Apparently, he had a fiancée by the name of Polly, and they were apparently planning to get married soon; that was what Mr. Yogi had said anyway. He had pressed the button to go down, and indeed the elevator had gone down, until…

Miles’ eyes went wide with fear and he shivered.

… Until a violent earthquake struck.

Everything became clear from here for the young boy. He recalled the lights had flickered and gone out because of that earthquake, and if not for the emergency light, Mr. Yogi and the Edgeworths would have completely been in the dark.

Once the fear had passed, the only choice left had been to wait for the emergency services. Miles had sat with his back against the wall and had wrapped his arms around his knees. Gregory and the bailiff had sat in front of him, with their backs against the wall too. And then… the three of them had had to wait for what had been an eternity. One hour… Two hours… Three hours… Four hours… Five hours… And finally… There had been that moment. That moment when Mr. Yogi had started getting crazy because of the lack of oxygen.

“S–Stop breathing my air!”

He had grabbed Gregory by the collar, right in front of Miles, who had started to panic. He had felt something under his hand, something that was probably dangerous… but he had not realized what it was exactly. He had been so frightened to see the bailiff lash out at his father that he had thrown the object without even really thinking about it. He just wanted the fight between the two men to stop.

“Get away from my father!”

Only when he had heard the gunshot had he realized the thing he had thrown at the bailiff was a weapon. Probably some sort of pistol, even maybe Yogi’s. It did not matter in the end: the result was the same. There had been a gunshot. After that, Miles had heard a long, terrible and awful scream of pain and…

… it was a blackout after that. He did not remember anything else.

His heart started pounding faster inside his chest and his hands gripped the blanket tighter. Where is Father, now? What happened to him? And what happened to the bailiff? He looked up at Mrs. Wright with worry in his eyes.

“I… I’d like to see my father, please…”

The woman gasped and turned her head, unable to meet his eyes. Miles was surprised, because for the time he had known her, she had never looked away like that. She had never looked away at all.

“I’m afraid it won’t be possible, Miles.”

“Why? What happened? Where’s Father?!”

“He’s dead.”

It was not Phoenix’s mother who had spoken, but the nurse. Miles had nearly forgotten about her existence. She who had been so cold at first was now looking at him with some sort of pity in her eyes Miles had a hard time accepting. He could not just believe what he had heard. There was no way Gregory could be dead! He had said… He had said to his son and to Mr. Yogi everything would be fine! He had to be okay, he had to, because, without him…

… Miles had nothing left.

He was all alone.

He looked at Mrs. Wright with eyes full of hope, a foolish hope that she would deny the lie that nurse had just told him. He needed to be told all this was just a joke – and a pretty bad joke, at that – but when he heard her sadly muttering the world ‘sorry’, this was when he knew for sure all that had been said to him was the truth, nothing else.

To say his world crumbled was an understatement. Tears came to his eyes and rolled down his cheeks as he hiccupped violently, unable to speak because of the lump on his throat. Instead, he just sobbed in Phoenix’s mother’s arms, without stopping, and he even lost track of time. The only thing he could feel was the woman gently stroking his hair and whispering soft words to him.

He just cried, again and again.

 ***

 Manfred von Karma was no man to wait.

When he wanted something, he did everything in his power to get it as soon as possible, just in the same way he did everything in his power to get a guilty verdict in court. He had been prosecuting for decades, and not a single defense attorney had been able to stand up against him. Well, not a single defense attorney still alive, that is. Of course, there had been that Gregory Edgeworth… but he had still lost in the end. And above all, he had been… dealt with, to say the least.

And now that he was dead, von Karma had one only obsession: to take Gregory Edgeworth’s son with him and to turn him against everything his foolish father had once believed in. He would make this boy become a perfect prosecutor under his control, and then… he would find a way to get rid of him. This child would be a puppet who would obey his orders, and he would get guilty verdicts just like Manfred. Von Karma would make him and his damn father pay for what they had done to him. The boy was so fragile and innocent… That was the perfect moment to mold him just like the prosecutor wanted. He wanted Miles, and he would have him.

This was why he was a bit upset to find there was already somebody in Miles’ room. He had hoped to be alone with that boy – the fewer people there was, the better – but he did not say anything and just glared at the woman. Edgeworth was stupidly crying in her arms. Manfred did not like how that woman was interfering, but it did not matter in the end; he was already taking care of the papers for the adoption, and soon, Miles would be his adoptive son.

“I would like the boy to be ready to go as soon as possible,” he informed the nurse.

“Very well. Given his good condition, he had no need to stay here any longer. I’m going to check when he’ll be allowed to leave.”

She never met the old prosecutor’s eyes and exited the room at the very moment when Mrs. Wright exclaimed: “Miles? Leave? But he’s mourning his father! He still need time to recover! And who are you anyway? You’re not a relative! You’re not even part of his family!”

Manfred glared at the woman with deep contempt and folded his arms. “I don’t care. I’m currently about to adopt him, and when the paperwork is done, he’ll come with me.”

Miles stopped crying and looked at the man with big fearful eyes. Mrs. Wright saw all the terror and the shock the poor little boy was going through right now, and she took him in her arms once again, embracing him protectively while he was shaking. Her eyes then met von Karma’s, and she gritted her teeth. This man did not mean any good for the now orphaned child, and she did not know what his plans were, but… by any means, she would not let the child go with a man who probably still held a grudge against said child’s father. Von Karma had a reputation, and Bonnie Wright had been told about the penalty he had been given due to Gregory exposing his unorthodox methods during the trial. To say he falsified evidence just to secure a guilty verdict… That was disgusting. How could anyone let Miles go with such a jerk just like that?!

On top of that, Gregory Edgeworth’s death was highly suspicious, to say the least. Miles and that bailiff, Yanni Yogi, were both unconscious when they had been found, after five hours, by the emergency services. There was no doubt Gregory had been shot right in the heart, and although the police was investigating, they apparently considered Yogi to be the culprit. Unlike Miles, he was not awake yet, but the both of them would be heard by the police anyway.

Still… Until then, Miles needed comfort. And Mrs. Wright did not intend to let that prosecutor take him away without doing anything to stop it. She took a deep breath and looked fiercely at the man. If he thought he could have anything just by demanding, then he was for a surprise.

“You have no right to do so! Gregory entrusted me with the custody of his son should anything happen to him!”

If Manfred was puzzled by the woman’s words, he did not show it. He had not expected that damn Edgeworth to leave the upbringing of his child to someone, but that was barely a hindrance. He would deal with this soon enough. All he wanted was the child, to turn him into somebody who would fight against everything his brat of a father had always believed in. He was determined.

“You have no say in that, woman. I will take the child, no matter what.”

“Over my dead body,” Mrs. Wright spitted out, glaring daggers at the old man, embracing the child even more tightly. “As for now, Miles is under my care, as Gregory wished. I will prove it at the courthouse, and when everything will be in order, Miles will come to live with us and you will never see nor touch the child again!”

Von Karma was now full of fury and rage, and he started rushing to that woman and the child threateningly, but he finally thought better. He could not lose his temper like this. The woman had probably her doubts on Edgeworth’s death, and if she started investigating and discovered the truth behind that case… his perfect career would be over, and that was something he could not afford. No, there was only one way to have the custody of the kid, it was to go to the courthouse and fight Mrs. Wright. With that, he was sure there would not be any problems.

He smugly wagged his finger in front of him and smirked viciously. “You’re right, Mrs. Wright. Let’s take care of this kind of things like the grown-ups we are, shall we? Everything will be settle in court soon enough.”

Miles was still looking at the old prosecutor in awe, and the latter glared back at him with huge contempt. To say he was doing all this for revenge… But he wanted this revenge. He despised the Edgeworths above all, and dealing with the child of the man he had killed was such a sweet revenge! He would have given everything just to see the face of the man as his son would be raised to be everything his dear father had been fighting against…

And on that thought, von Karma left the room.

Bonnie Wright sighed, and stroke Miles’ hair gently.

“Will I have to live with that man?” he asked, looking at her with eyes full of terror, sadness and uncertainty.

“No you won’t. I’m the one who will be in charge of you. I have paperwork to do, but once it’s done, you’ll move in with me and Phoenix. No harm will be done to you. I swear. Everything will be alright.”

Miles nodded, reassured. He was so glad he did not have to go with that prosecutor. He had never wanted to. He clearly preferred to grow up with his best friend Phoenix. And Bonnie had told him that everything would be fine, so he could finally rest, now.

They could not have been more wrong.

On January 4, 2002, the judge officially entrusted Miles Edgeworth’s custody to Bonnie Wright, much to von Karma’s furor. On that same day, while the day was coming to an end, Mrs. Wright was murdered in strange conditions. The identity of the killer remained unknown.

Phoenix became an orphan too, and Miles never got the chance to live with the Wrights.

[monstersandmaw]

Male each-uisge (sea kelpie) x reader (sfw) - Mermay story #6

Edit which I’m including in all my works after plagiarism and theft has taken place: I do not give my consent for my works to be used, copied, published, or posted anywhere. They are copyrighted and belong to me.

This started out as a hippocampus kelpie, but upon being reminded of the glorious and vicious 'each-uisge ' of Scottish legend, that fitted him so much better. There's room for a Part Two in the future, so don't let me forget about this one!! It’s been up on my Patreon for a little while now, so it’s time to share it with you folks!

Content: near drowning, brief descriptions injury and blood (not to reader), gender neutral reader, sfw.

***

Inky water coiled around you the instant that your back hit the sea. The squall had swept in off the open Atlantic, and the deck of the tiny boat vanished as the waters closed above you. It took immense mental strength to force your mouth to stay shut before you sucked in a gulp of water in place of the air that your body was already craving as the adrenaline surged.

Panic, hot and searing and in total opposition to the bitingly cold waters, coursed through your veins and you fought off the wild, flailing fear as best you could. Clawing your way towards the surface, your clothes dragged at you, and as you tried desperately to kick off your shoes, you realised with a thrill of horror that something cold and slippery was coiling around your ankle.

The surface had slipped a long way away now as you sank under the weight of your own clothing, and your futile kicks only used up precious air without propelling you upwards.

You risked a glance down and your stomach turned over with horror.

There, wrapping black fronds like slick kelp around your ankle, was a creature you could never have dreamed up, even in your strangest nightmares.

The black head of a horse stared out of the depths at you with wild, white eyes, and strands of black, wafting hair and weed waved in the water around its head and neck. Below, its sinuous, eel-like body tensed and contracted, and as you opened your mouth to scream, forgetting the pressing tons of water on all sides, it latched another tendril around you and yanked you not up but down.

Your ears popped and you fought and twitched and struggled like a bird in netting as the thing from the deep pulled you down and down. In what felt like minutes, but what was in reality more likely to have been seconds, you found yourself being dragged into a dark opening in the craggy rock beneath the roots of the kelp surrounding the shore.

A moment later, you were thrust out onto a hard surface, and you were coughing water from your lungs.

Blinking and dazed, you looked around and discovered that you were lying on a bed of hard, damp sand, cradled in the hollow of an underwater cave. And there was air. The walls of the strange, rocky bower were illuminated by ethereal, glowing weeds and plants, and to your right was a pool of water that led out into the sea beyond. It lapped vigorously at the hard sand like ink in a shaken bottle. You were in an air pocket, and like a conical flask thrust underwater, it held the air for you to breathe. You blinked, vision blurred from the stinging salt and raging panic, trying to calm your breathing and the burning of the salt water in your throat.

You heaved and wretched the remnants of the seawater from your lungs and mouth, bedraggled and weak, but as you shifted your legs, a flash of memory seared across your mind and you recalled the horrific creature who had dragged you here.

Had it drawn you underground to keep you prisoner, or to keep you alive?

You whipped your head around to stare once more at the midnight-black water that pulsed rhythmically, as though the sea’s troubled heartbeat throbbed in the deep, and there, just breaking above the water, was the creature with the large ears of a horse. Its dead-white eyes were fixed unblinkingly on your face.

“What the hell are you?” you hissed, more to yourself than to the thing in the water as you scrabbled backwards and left scars in the smooth sand.

The creature rose above the waves just enough to reveal its mouth, and to your horror, you observed that the split of its mouth ran far up its skull, almost to its ears. This was not the head of an ordinary horse; this was the head of a predator, of a creature that hunted with those jaws and with the canines of a killer. Its long black tongue slipped free of that deadly maw for the briefest of instants, and then it hissed, in a voice like crunching sea salt, “I will not harm you.”

With your blood pounding in your ears and your breath hard to catch, you tried to swallow as you stared at the milky eyes of the horse that had spoken to you. “What are you?” you repeated.

“I am… an each-uisge,” the strange creature said, still not coming nearer to you. “I will not harm you.”

“What do you want with me?” you blurted, a violent, almost spasmodic trembling spreading through your already shivering limbs as the biting cold and choking terror caught up with you.

“Want?” it said, its strange, ageless voice echoing dully in the sea-hewn chamber. “I saved you. When you are recovered, I will take you to shore.”

“Oh…” you said, feeling only a little less afraid. “Why… Why did you save me?”

The creature bobbed amid the frothing water, and you noted how the coal-black coat on its neck gleamed in the odd light cast by the otherworldly corals and plants. “You were going to die,” it said simply. “Humans cannot breathe the sea like we can…”

“What are you?” you repeated, not believing that a creature from folklore could have come to life like this.

The being in the water blinked and said rather slowly and patronisingly, “I am a each-uisge… A water spirit, like a kelpie, though my herd makes its home in the sea.”

“But… you’re not real… You can’t be real…”

A braying, wild laugh answered your breathless statement. “Do I not look real to you, human?” it jibed, and then it swam a little closer, putting its weed-wreathed fore-hooves on the sandbar on which you lay sprawled like a piece of flotsam. Its eerie jaw clicked shut and its dead eyes rolled. “This is no fairytale, no folk-tale to frighten the children.”

Without warning, your blood pulsed in your temples and suddenly blackness closed in around the edges of your vision, and you collapsed onto the sand beneath you, unconscious before your head even hit the earth.

When you woke, you still lay on the sandbar, but the water was much closer to your feet, and you were alone.

You struggled to stand, fighting the waves of nausea and vertigo that swept through you from the lingering taste of the sea in your mouth and the exertion of your ordeal, and you turned your gaze warily to the dark waters beyond the hard sand.

The scuffed hoofmarks at the edge of the water told you that the creature had been there not long ago, and your heart threatened to beat its way out of your chest as you stared at them. You’d lived all your life by the sea, if not here in this town, and you knew the fish-wives’ stories as well as anyone. Your own mother had told them to you to frighten you out of going swimming beyond the safety of the lifeguard’s buoys, but as you’d grown older, you’d seen the tales for what they were: warnings to avoid the sudden currents and moods of the sea. That was all. They were not supposed to have a grain of truth to them.

Your sodden, salty clothes still clung unpleasantly to your skin, and gooseflesh washed over you again as you shivered. You had to get out of here before that creature with the eel’s tail and the horse’s torso and head came back. You couldn’t shake the image of those predator’s teeth, nor those cold, misty, dead eyes.

Just as you turned around to see if there was a way out of the air-pocket, perhaps upwards into the rocks and up to the safety of the surface, a gentle splashing disturbed the regular breathing of the sea in the cave, and you turned with dread billowing thick and acrid in your stomach.

The creature had returned.

Clenching your jaw to stop your teeth chattering, you turned slowly and sure enough, floating there like a scrap of weed-bound driftwood, the horse’s black head glistened in the water. It blinked its dead eyes at you, then broke the surface and champed its unnerving jaw a little. Finally it said, “You are leaving.”

It wasn’t a question, but it drew a flickering frown from your brows. “Yes. Will you let me go?”

The tapering, almost elegant, black ears of the monstrous creature swivelled back a little. Not flat to its head like an angered mount, but almost sadly, like a kicked puppy. It nodded once and rasped, “Of course.”

“You say that like it should be obvious,” you said, “But I know a little about kelpies and each-uisge from the stories… You eat humans. You hunt humans.”

“We do sometimes,” the creature replied steadily. “But only when we’re desperately hungry. And I’m not.”

Its blunt words sent a fresh thrill of fear through you.

“Besides,” it said rather conversationally, “Seals are much better. Personally, I don’t see the attraction to human flesh. The taste is… awful.”

“Right,” you whispered, feeling faint.

The creature sighed, air bubbling through the water. “If you climb up the rock there, it leads to the shore. It’s far from human houses and the stone wall of the harbour, but you’ll get home alright.”

Something in its tone made you pause. “You don’t want to keep me, but you don’t seem all that enthusiastic about letting me go either…”

At that, the creature snorted a laugh - a sound like a horse’s whinny - and half reared out of the water, making you stagger back over the sand, arms flailing as you fought for balance. “I was not made for traversing the land, human,” it sneered at your reaction. “You don’t need to worry about me lumbering after you like a beached seal.”

You nodded slowly, feeling your rapid heartbeat in your throat.

The each-uisge braced its powerful equine forelegs on the sand, propping up its upper body and revealing a sleek, muscular figure, with an incredibly long mane tangled with seaweed and starfish. Its lower half was the murky, muddy green of an eel, with a long, papery-looking fin running the length of its spine. There was an odd beauty to the mottled skin of its sinuous tail, at odds with the joints and individual muscles of the horse’s chest, forelegs, neck and head.

It spoke to you in that strange, deep, rasping voice, and you found yourself inclined to listen, despite your instincts telling you to run from the predator. “I’m curious about you, I suppose,” he said. “My herd usually hunts squid and the like in the deep. I’ve only seen humans from a distance.”

“Seems like you’ve been close enough to taste one,” you blurted combatively, and to your surprise, the creature laughed again.

���True, though in my defence, he had drowned all on his own already.” When your lip curled in disgust, the each-uisge sighed. “Go on, go. You should go.” A second later, it added, “So should I.”

“Your ‘herd’?” you asked as a thought occurred to you, and it nodded. “Are… Are there many of you?”

It gave a kind of shrug, its weedy forelock flopping across one of those dead, white eyes before it tossed it out of the way again and said, “It varies. We are not so numerous as we used to be, but my herd is strong. We number about twenty.”

Your eyebrows rose, and it laughed softly at your surprise.

The thought of twenty of these predators surrounding a person in the water like teeming piranha and tearing them to ribbons with their sharp teeth suddenly made you feel sick to your stomach, and you turned away, squinting at the rough cave wall behind you. It was still illuminated by the soft glow of those mysterious corals, but now daylight filtered through the circular space above you, and as you neared the rock face, you looked up and saw that this was an old blow hole in the rocky shore.

The creature had been right and all you had to do was use the natural hand-holds in the stone to pull yourself up. It was a fair few metres, but with one last look back at the creature who was still mostly beached on the sandbar, watching you with a dolorous expression, you began to climb.

The encounter with the each-uisge stayed with you, and you found yourself researching them in your spare time. You didn’t have a huge amount of that, but what free hours you had, you dedicated to mythology and folklore of the region. There were newspaper accounts of the area, going back centuries, of men and women being lured out to sea by what they thought was a drowning horse, only to find themselves with its dread jaw clamped around them, their body straining as it dragged them down into the depths. To your surprise, however, you discovered one or two tales of kelpies falling in love with humans and using their equine strength to help their chosen love. Admittedly, these were all the kelpies who supposedly lived up on the higher moors inland.

You found no tales of the each-uisge falling in love.

And yet something eventually made you return to that submerged cave one afternoon.

The autumnal beach was deserted as you strode across it, the base of your jeans quickly soaking up the puddled seawater from the retreating tide. A piece of sea glass caught your eye, lying on the ribbed sand, and you stared at it. It was white and frosted with the battering of the sea against the sand, and it instantly reminded you of the each-uisge’s blank, milky eyes, set like two full moons in its inky face. You stooped and pocketed the rounded piece of glass and continued back along the rocky shoreline, skirting deep rock pools and crevices that would lead to a broken leg at best if you slipped into one. For all its beauty, this part of the coastline was treacherous.

With trepidation, you stared at the blow hole in the dark rock for a long time before you mustered your courage and descended into the blackness below.

The sand was smooth and unmarred, the corals still glowed merrily, and the slap of the freezing water against the rock still filled the small, tomb-like space. Other than that, it was lifeless.

You stared at that small stretch of dark water for a long time, half expecting that the creature would burst up through it like a crocodile from a river and seize you like hapless prey, but nothing happened. It seemed that you stood in a timeless space between the underworld and the earth above, waiting for some wraith to emerge. Feeling suddenly foolish, you took out the pebble of sea glass and turned it over in your hand. With a sigh, you bent and left it on the sand before climbing back up and into the daylight.

That was not the last time you found your feet taking you back there, and the next time you went, you found the sandbar as empty as you had the first time, your little sea glass pebble nowhere to be seen. You thought it must have just been swept away by the rising tide, and you left another piece there, higher up this time, and when you returned for your third visit, it too was gone.

You hadn’t managed to find a third piece of glass to leave there this time, so you descended empty handed. To your shock, halfway down, you found not the empty sandbar, but the curled figure of an each-uisge slumbering atop it like a story-book dragon atop a hoard of golden coins.

Its wheezing, rattling breath reminded you of the wind whistling through the rigging of ships, and you froze like a spider on the wall, torn between continuing and returning. It had all been real after all.

Before you had the chance to decide, the creature stirred and raised its head. At the sight of you, its large, elegant ears pricked up and it whickered softly. “You came back,” it murmured. “I don’t believe it.”

Taking a deep breath for courage as fresh fear, and a small trace of relief that this was ‘your’ each-uisge, you asked, “Am I still safe with you?”

The creature bowed its head and snorted. “I swear it, human. No harm will come to you from me.”

Taking that on faith, you nodded and continued your descent until your soles hit hard sand. Completely out of the water like this, the creature was much bigger than you’d realised. Had it been a normal horse, it might have reached sixteen or seventeen hands high; a mount fit for a king or a cavalryman. But this was no ordinary horse.

You let your eyes drink in the full length of that mottled tail, and the each-uisge watched you with amusement as you stared openly at it.

Finally, you asked, “What’s your name?”

Its lips curled softly, as much as its strange jaw would allow, and it said in a low voice, “Rhion.”

“Is that a male or a female name?”

“Male,” he said gently. “May I know yours?” You told him, and he nodded, repeating it. The echo of it on the walls of the cave made you shiver and sent a cold, scraping finger down your spine.

You stepped a little closer and he watched you intently, tilting his head slightly to one side in a manner that reminded you of a young and wary dog.

“Why are you here?” you said. “I thought your kind lived in the deep?”

He smiled again in that subtle way. “I… I thought… perhaps foolishly… that you might come back.” That surprised you, and when it showed on your face, he rasped another laugh. “And here I thought it was you leaving me these little tokens… Was I wrong?”

“Tokens?”

He shifted slightly, parting the forelegs that were folded neatly beneath his equine chest, and you recognised the two milky pieces of sea glass you’d left behind on your previous trips. When he saw your expression, he laughed and said, “I was right then. Why did you leave them?”

Embarrassed and awkward, you mumbled, “They reminded me of your eyes.”

He raised his head at that, and then shook it in soft disbelief, sighing cavernously. Then, to your surprise, he lowered that big, dark head and placed his chin on the sand like a big dog waiting on a porch. His eel’s tail twitched and thumped disconsolately once against the sand.

“What is it?” you asked, stepping nearer before you’d even thought that it could be a trap or a ruse on his part to get you to go close enough for him to snatch you away into the water.

In fact, he didn’t move at all, and only watched you approach. His ears drooped softly, hanging out to the sides like a horse at ease, and you felt so emboldened that you actually knelt down in the damp sand beside him. He kept watching you, but didn’t speak.

You raised your hand and, with only a slight tremble in your fingers, asked silently if you could touch him. He blinked slowly, which you took for assent, and he permitted your hand to rest on his head, just below his ear. He rumbled a wheezing groan, like a wounded animal, at your touch, and his lunar eyes rolled closed.

After that, you explored his body with your hands, stroking his soft, dark coat that was now dry and shone like black silk, and when you came to his belly, where the eel’s tail began, you looked once more to his face for permission.

He just jutted his nose at you in a ‘go ahead’, gesture, and you took a breath and passed over the transition from fur to skin. Where you had perhaps expected it to be slimy, his skin was smooth and dry, tough and leathery, with little bumps and rough patches like sharkskin where the pigmentation differed. He must have registered your surprise, because he admitted sheepishly, as though it were a sin, “I shouldn’t stay out of the water much longer. I’m at risk of drying out completely, but I’ve recently discovered that I love the feeling of the air on my skin…”

“You’re… not what I expected,” you said as you shuffled back towards his head.

He brought his nose to your shoulder and pausing there for a moment, he then began to nuzzle you. His eyes rolled shut again and he blew out a long, slow breath as he tipped his flat cheek against you. “Nor are you,” he said, experimentally inhaling your scent and moaning again. “I was taught that humans would hunt us and lop off our heads to stick on their walls as grotesque trophies, or stuff us and send us to a museum of curiosities…”

“I’m sure some would,” you said quietly.

A beat later he said, “And you think we’re barbaric for hunting you…”

“At least you do it for food… even if you enjoy chase too…”

He laughed and nodded. “Tell me about where you live,”  he said, changing the subject to a less grim topic. “I’d like to hear more about your world.”

So you described the walk up from the harbour, past the shops and the pub with the broken compass on its sign, past the blazing pink geraniums in the window boxes, and then onto the narrow, cobbled streets of the town beyond. “I actually chose my house because of its lovely red door,” you laughed. “I had to have it. It’s a tiny old fisherman’s cottage I think, and there’s barely enough room for me in it, but it’s pretty cute. It’s the only one with a red door on the whole street. The man who owned it before me liked to buck the trend, I think…”

Rhion had been sitting with his head in your lap while you talked, and you played with his coarse forelock, untangling it and gently plaiting a strand into it with idle fingers. Suddenly, he lurched up and scrabbled away from you, his huge hooves nearly clipping your thighs, his ears straining, his gaze locked on the inky pool that led down into the depths of the sea.

“What?” you asked, ready to stand, body tense. “What is it?”

He cocked his head, all his focus on listening. Then he cursed. “You need to leave. Now.”

“What is it?”

“My herd. They’re hunting in the shallows. They…” he broke off and you heard the faint sound like a whale’s call, only shriller. It had the echo of a horse’s whinny to it. “Oh no,” he said, and he shoved you hard with his nose, a desperate gleam in his wide, white eyes. “Go! Please… They’ve caught your scent. They’re coming. If they find you here with me they’ll… they’ll…”

He was scrambling to get back into the water, his tail thrashing and sending salt spray everywhere as it hit the shallows. Water splattered across your face in a cold chain of fat drops and as it ran down your cheek you were reminded viscerally of the time you’d hit your head as a child and blood had run down your face. You rose and reeled backwards until the rough rock was at your back and he was staring at you. His jaw opened and he made the unearthly sound a horse makes in immense distress. It struck you to your core and as his mouth opened in that guttural scream of pain and anguish, you froze.

“Go! Please! They’ll kill you if they find you here. Go, and don’t ever come back!” he said in a horrible rush.

You scuttled back up the rock as fast as you could, but your muscles locked when you heard him scream.

You looked down and saw that another each-uisge had breached the surface beside him. It lunged for you, but Rhion jostled his shoulder against it and it stumbled, rounding on him with a vicious snarl. It opened its immense jaw full of sharp teeth and latched onto Rhion’s neck. Thrashing, Rhion was dragged screaming below and the waters seethed, empty and broiling, until you finally fled.

His was not your world, and you tried to put it behind you as you sped back up the beach towards the town. You couldn’t shake his final scream from your mind and it haunted you long into the night.

Too unsettled, it was long after midnight before you’d even thought of going to bed, and as you finally rose from the sofa, you heard an irregular scratching at your front door. Frowning, you stood, thinking perhaps it was a cat or even a fox, but even as you stood there, the scratching became a weak thudding.

Peering through the peephole revealed nothing, so you opened it cautiously, nerves thrumming.

Half collapsed on the step was the naked figure of a scrawny, wiry young man. In the moonlight, you could see that his pale skin was green and mottled like dappled shadow on fallen leaves, but it was slashed with cuts and - horrifically - deep puncture wounds arranged in an arc. Bite marks. Blood tracked down his torso and thigh in thin ribbons to his bare feet.

And as he looked up at you, you saw those dead white eyes from behind a curtain of lank, wet, black hair. “Rhion?” you asked, darting forwards as he swayed, half doubled over already.

He smiled, though it was weak and obviously pained. “I knew you’d recognise me,” he said, pitching forwards as his balance failed him and his legs wobbled. “I didn’t know where else to go. I remembered your story… I… I found you…”

“Come on,” you said, hooking an arm under his and guiding him inside. Blood dripped onto the flagstones as you led him towards the kitchen and eased him into a wooden chair. You had emergency supplies, and told him you’d be right back as you darted upstairs to fetch lint dressings and bandages. You were no surgeon, but they didn’t look deep enough to need stitches. You couldn't exactly take him to a hospital anyway.

When you came back he was just sitting there, staring around.

“Rhion?”

He turned vaguely and smiled at you. “Thank you,” he said faintly. “I’m sorry.”

“What happened?” you asked as you got to work on cleaning and disinfecting the wounds. He hissed at you in protest at the antiseptic, but let you continue.

“They said I should have caught you and brought you to them. They said I was a disgrace. They said I betrayed my own kind.” His chest heaved. “I barely got away.”

“I didn’t know your kind could take a human form,” you said carefully as you encouraged him to lean forwards a little so that you could wrap the bandage around his ribcage where the worst of the bite marks were. Luckily he wasn’t bleeding through the dressing. Each-uisge it seemed were much tougher than humans. You wiped up the blood that had trickled down his skinny legs with a kind of clinical detachment, despite your growing curiosity about him. You wondered if it felt strange for him to have legs now.

He huffed a rather sharp laugh and said, “It’s… It’s not something we can do as easily as our kelpie cousins,” he said. “It nearly killed me to shift. I won’t be changing back for a while.”

“What will you do?” you asked. “You can’t stay here…” you added, easing him back against the chair so he could catch his breath and running your thumb across his gaunt, unusual face. “We don’t tend to get too many humans with green skin like yours…”

Rhion laughed bitterly. “I don’t know. I just had to get away. I suppose I’ll go back to the sea and find a new herd somewhere far away.”

Your heart lurched at that and you thought that perhaps he saw a little of your emotion because his pale greenish-grey lips twitched softly.

“You should rest a while first,” you said. “Come on, you can sleep in my bed.”

His thighs trembled as you helped him up and tried not to stare at him. Anatomically, he resembled a biologically male human in every way except for the colour of his blotchy olive green and grey skin, and you wanted to afford him at least a little dignity as you supported him up the stairs and into your bedroom.

Rhion eyed your bed warily as you looked about for some clothes and found a baggy t-shirt that you usually used to sleep in. You dressed him in it so that he wouldn’t get cold and would at least be a little covered, but when you eased him down onto the mattress, he groaned with pleasure and sank gratefully onto it, moaning as you drew the sheet up over his body.

“Where will you sleep?” he asked, his words softly articulated and almost slurred with his exhaustion.

“There’s a sofa downstairs,” you said, but he frowned.

“Stay?” he said. “I… I’ve never slept on land before.”

“You’re afraid?”

He didn’t speak for such a long time you thought he might have passed out. “Yes,” he said very quietly without looking at you.

With a smile, you crossed to the other side of the bed and undressed. You felt his eyes on your back, but he said nothing. Wearing your pyjamas, you climbed into bed beside him. He kept his distance, lying very still, and you weren’t sure if that was because of his injuries or because of his manners.

It took a long time for you to fall asleep, though Rhion was unconscious in mere seconds, jaw slack, delicate fingers softly curled beside his sharp features, eyes tracking back and forth behind his closed lids. His long black hair flowed all the way down his back and it was still damp. The braid that you’d plaited into it while you’d told him the story that would later save his life, probably, was still there and you fought the urge to touch it. You thought vaguely that you should have washed the seawater out of it before letting him sleep on your pillow, but somehow you couldn’t muster up quite enough energy to care.

When dawn came, sensation filtered slowly back into your awareness, and you opened your eyes to find him trailing his fingers along the inside of your wrist. You smiled up at him and he jumped when he realised that you were awake.

“Sorry,” he mumbled. “I didn’t meant to disturb you.”

You inhaled thickly and shuffled slightly. “You didn’t,” you said. “I still can’t quite believe this is real though…”

Rhion’s smile was sad.

“How are you feeling?”

“Sore,” he admitted, shuffling his mottled green torso experimentally. “And… I’m scared.”

“You can stay here as long as you need,” you said, reaching for his skinny, pale green fingers and clutching them suddenly. “You don’t have to face them yet.”

“Thank you,” he rasped, his milky eyes swimming with tears. Were it not for the accuracy of his gaze, you might have thought those eyes were sightless.

You brought his knuckles to your lips and kissed them softly. A shaky breath escaped him and his smile broadened, crinkling his eyes and bringing little curving dimples to his gaunt cheeks.

“I don’t scare you any more, do I?” he asked.

You shook your head just a little and kissed him again.

“When I’m better,” he said, “I’d like… I mean…”

“I know,” you grinned. “I think I’d like that too. For now, rest and heal. Everything else will come afterwards.”

His tired eyes fluttered and he allowed himself to fall back into a healing, dreamless sleep while you watched over him for the time being.

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[writingcuredmyfrown]

The Benevolent Gods

It was the day of the executions. Three men, convicted of theft from the royal palace were about to be publically beheaded. The man who was about to carry out the task was General Seledin, chief of the royal guard. The town square was slowly filling up with people. Public executions were a treasure among the citizens of the kingdom. There was an ancient custom, according to which every prisoner must tell the executioner what he wishes for. Of course, most people, in the last minutes before their death, wished for an afterlife. Sometimes, however, someone would ask for something silly, ordinary or impossible. Those were the moments the crowd cherished, they loved a good laugh. 

The three men were in a line. Their blistered skin visible through the torn clothes. They were walking slowly, the soldiers escorting them didn’t want to hurt them. Nothing can go wrong, the performance must satisfy the audience. Here they come, closer and closer to the chopping block. Somewhere in the distance a flock of ravens could be heard. 

General Seledin called the first man in line. After giving the crown an account of what the man had done, along with his name and family, he asked him for his wish. 

“I hope that when I die I become God myself, so I can send fire from the sky and make you pay for everything.”, he said with all his strength. He was weak, exhausted to a point where his speech sounded unbelievable. Perhaps it was a heat stroke, perhaps he was just insane. Everyone burst into laughter, they didn’t care what it was. He was absurd.

After his head rolled off several meters, the General called for the second prisoner. A bulky, strong man. He was the one who was weeping all throughout the walk. He begged for help. He didn’t want to die, he had a family. But so did everyone else. Panic had taken a hold of him. He was shivering when Seledin asked him about his wish.

“Please, let me go! You have to understand, I’m innocent! I’ve done nothing. This isn’t right! I am not a - ...”, the mass of people had started shouting violently. They didn’t want sobbing, he violated the customs of the land. That was enough to cause an outrage. As soon as he realized how trapped he is, all alone in a sea of sharks, he simply closed his eyes and laid his head on the block.

The third man was named Arion. He was handsome and young, and he’d married a farmer several months ago. Out of the three men, he was the only one who looked up during the walk to the executioner. He seemed happy, or at least content. He smiled at the onlookers as if he’d done nothing. But it was true, he had done nothing. It was all a big mistake. All of them were innocent. It’s just that the royal guard didn’t pay much attention to those things. They wanted a public spectacle, and they were going to have it one way or another.

He looked at the General and calmly said:

“I wish you a long life, my lord. May life smile upon you and preserve you.” The laughter was even greater. Pathetic wishes like these were a favorite. Everyone felt superior, everyone felt like justice was being served - the pathetic ones are being beheaded, and they - the lawful ones, are being spared. With a clean sweep, his head joined the other two. 

...

Many years later, the General had lost his wife, his children, his friends and fellow soldiers. He was frail, incapacitated and weak. Arion’s wish had come true. He had also realized that on that day, he had killed three innocent people, and ruined God knows how many more’s lives. The mighty, righteous General had fallen. He had lost everything and everyone. He lived a long and miserable life. He kept thinking of Arion. The Gods had listened to him, they had fulfilled his wish. But those same Gods were, very soon, going to take the General in their abode. He was afraid. He had never believed they even existed. He was not ready. 

Hello, hello. Flash Fiction Friday! Awesome, awesome topic. It was challenging for me to come up with a story, but it was fun. I might have used the good old mythological trinity of X, but I think it worked. Let me know what you think! 

As always, thanks to @flashfictionfridayofficial - #FFF43 - Gift of the Gods. 

[vfdbaudelairefile13]

Authors notes: There are brief descriptions of violence against a minor and brief discussion of Olaf's sick intentions with Violet. Read with caution. It isn't the main focus of the chapter but it is mentioned here and there. So read with caution.

Also, sorry if this chapter is super long I just kept adding a lot of shit and I honestly like how it turned out.

Notes:

First off I just want to apologize for how long this chapter took. Time has gotten away from me but I can promise that part three will be a day to day posting schedule like part one. Carnivorous Carnival might still have a couple days in between each chapter cause I am in the process of finding a new second job, still dealing with two jobs, and even moving. So updates won't take this long but they won't be day to day. I am hoping for the first chapter of CC to be posted in three days. Maybe even Thursday. I do appreciate the support this fic has gotten and I can't wait to wow y'all with part three.

That being said, we are at the last chapter of Hostile Hospital and I am feeling very emotional about that mere prospect. This just means we are close to the end of part two and near the start of part three. during the time in between parts two and three I will be posting a number of random one shots cause I don't plan to post until I have finished writing Grim Grotto to it's completion because Slippery Slope might be as long as Hostile Hospital has been.

So thank you all again for the support. Hope you enjoy the ending of HH.

-Sue

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                                   Chapter Fifty-Seven:

The One With An Unhinged Madman and a Very Flawed, Daring Escape

Olaf smiled happily down at the film that was now in his hands. The Snicket File? He thought as his smile grew bigger. All he could think about was who he expected to be in this film. He had believed it would’ve been the love of his life, Kit Snicket. He glanced from the film towards Esme. Esme was looking at the young orphan boy with a cold, murderous expression. He stole a glance towards the unconscious girl that laid limp and lifeless on the cutting table. Then he slowly turned his gaze to the young boy and hidden toddler who stood before him. He smiled viciously at them as he secured the film into his pocket.

The villain’s smile widened when Esme had helped him reveal the orphans’ true identity to the crowd. He watched a terrified Klaus slowly begin to panic. The villain reveled in his young adversary’s fear. He glanced around. Bored with his plot. He was curious to know what was on the Snicket file and to tell the truth, he was eager to see Kit’s face again. Olaf glanced at Esme while Klaus and Sunny were too distracted by the audience to notice. Olaf was signaling for Esme to take care of the orphans while he dipped out momentarily to investigate the file. Esme gave a slow nod as she focused on causing the orphans more turmoil. Olaf looked around the stage for a way to escape undetected. But he didn’t have to think for too long because the blind old man who was in charge of the Library of Records had entered the room accusing the children of theft.

Olaf took this golden opportunity to leave the operating theater of Heimlich Hospital as he walked excitedly down the halls towards the Library of Records. All the while, he had taken the film out of his pocket and was staring at it with heavy eyes the entire duration of his walk. As he walked further and further away from the operating theater, he could faintly hear the desperate voice of Klaus Baudelaire asking where he had gone, he smirked with triumph as he rounded a corner finding the door to the library. He stepped inside the Library of Records smiling at the damage that his girlfriend had done when she was in pursuit of those awful orphans. He quickly found the area of the room where the projectors had been placed.

As he began to play the film, his face turned from happy to one of pure confusion. As he stared speechless at a ghost. Olaf was visibly upset. When he was told about the Snicket file, he hadn’t expected to see a Snicket brother on film. He grabbed the film’s case scanning it for a date. Of course, in good VFD fashion, there was no date of production, just the broad name. He slammed the case down in pure annoyance.

His eyes widened as he stared emotionless at Jacques Snicket. “But, before I do, I have an important update,” Jacques explained but Olaf couldn’t help but be merely distracted on who he could see. Olaf knew for a fact that he had murdered Jacques Snicket. He cocked his head to the side as he stared at Jacques, a volatile mix of emotions causing him to groan in annoyance as the volunteer spoke. Olaf had expected to see Kit Snicket, not her pesky, meddlesome twin brother who he had recently slain. He leaned his chin in his hand, feigning a yawn. Trying his best to mask his complete and utter discomfort for this situation. He scoffed aloud as he rolled his eyes, confused as to what he was feeling exactly.

It couldn’t be guilt. I’ve sunk too low to ever feel guilt and have empathy for another soul. He had thought with another quick eye roll. He had half a mind to turn off the film.

What information could Jacques Snicket possibly have that could be useful to me?

But as Olaf reached for the switch to turn it off. Jacques Snicket said it. Jacques said the haunting secret that the three orphans had learned moments before Esme Squalor burst into the library and successfully kidnapped Violet.

The vile man’s demeanor was calm, like the air that filled the Library of Records. But his cold demeanor was also very chilling. Anyone who knew Olaf well would take one look at him and accuse the man who sat in the Library of Records to be an imposter. He chuckled nervously, but in a low whisper as if he were afraid of others hearing him. For a brief moment, Olaf simply stared blankly towards the film. Jacques Snicket spoke on but Olaf paid him no attention. As if Jacques’ initial statement had frozen him in time. Jacques’ secret replayed in Olaf’s head in a continuous loop not allowing him a brief moment of peace. Olaf shook his head violently, but other than that his motions were bare, his demeanor was still calm.

After another few moments like that, Olaf stopped the film, rewound it to the very beginning, and turned it back on. Again, he listened to Jacques’ revelation about the recent fires. This time when he heard Jacques' theory, his heart stopped. A chill was sent over him.

It can’t be. He thought to himself desperately. Quickly succumbing to anxiety and paranoia that was now creeping in on him, he glanced around the empty library. He stood up from his seat to get a better look around. He wasn’t sure why but he could feel his heart beating in his chest as he surveyed the area for his older enemies.

Olaf wouldn’t admit to anyone that he was afraid, even though he was. He knew that if the kids knew that there was a survivor; and he had a strong feeling that the children did, in fact, know what was on the film seeing that Klaus was hesitant to hand it over to Esme, only handing it over because he thought it would be a good bargaining chip for Violet’s life. But if the kids knew there was a survivor and they somehow got to the survivor first, before Olaf could, he knew that that would only mean terrible things for him. Who knows what Beatrice, Bertrand, and Lemony would do to him if they ever found out just what he had done to their children and even some of the vile things he had planned especially when it came to the eldest orphan. His breathing was slowly going back to normal as he shook his head again.

He scoffed as he turned off the film again. He waited for it to rewind as he kept shaking his head defiantly. “What does Jacques Snicket know? Nothing. That’s what.” he tried to convince himself. “He was always a know-it-all with no way to back anything up.” But no matter what he said aloud to himself, nothing was convincing him that he was safe from the parents’ wrath.

He ran one of his hands nervously through his disgusting, grey hair. “No. No. Lemony is dead.” he said shakily. But then he remembered how a struggling violet was desperately crying out for her father when he was using the anesthetic to subdue her. “Remember...you...you killed him. You set his apartment building ablaze!” the vile man began to nervously laugh at this statement. He was hoping for his laugh to come out shrill and villainous, as it usually does, but it came out nervous and unenthusiastic. “Killing him...and whoever else was unfortunate enough to die,”

His eyes widened when he remembered the young teen girl that was strapped to a gurney in the middle of the operating theater. How did she survive? How did she escape the fire? That question now haunted him more than it had when he had first laid eyes on her at Prufrock. When he immediately recognized her as a miniature Beatrice with Lemony’s blue eyes. Olaf remembers when he had set the fire it was in the early hours of the morning or late hours of the evening (depending on how you look at), surely Violet would have been sleeping or inside her home when he started the fire.  

So if an untrained fourteen-year-old girl could escape the fire I set….who’s to say, Lemony Snicket, a man who has had a lifetime of training in a cult, couldn’t escape as well? He thought to himself. He rubbed the side of his face anxiously.

“Get a grip, Olaf.” He told himself as he stopped the film. “She only escaped because that brat is lucky,” he smirked as he remembers her lifeless, limp body laying on a gurney in the operating theater. “And her luck is soon going to run out.”

He took a small breath. “Besides, there’s no way he survived...he would’ve shown his face by now.” The vile man reasoned, but to be honest, he wasn’t too sure. Olaf did not think it made sense for Lemony to risk his life for two children that weren't biologically his but not even try to rescue his own child. He also highly doubted Bertrand and Beatrice wouldn’t have shown their faces in an effort to save their kids. He began to nervously laugh as he shook his head. “Maybe...I misheard Jacques. He always played that stupid hearing game with Lemony…” Olaf stated, still trying to find some logical way to debunk what he heard Jacques Snicket say.

As he rewound the film once more, Olaf took a deep breath and played it again. Olaf’s eyes fixated on Jacques as he listened attentively as Jacques explained that Lemony was either dead or on the lam. Olaf’s eyes widened as he shook his head defiantly. “No. Lemony Snicket is dead,” he told himself. He hoped that if he said it out loud enough times then it would stay true. He desperately wanted that statement to stay true. He wanted Lemony Snicket to be dead.

Olaf glared slightly at the vision of Jacques Snicket. Grimacing, groaning, and growling as the ‘noble’ man spoke. It was like Jacques Snicket had come back from the dead to deliver Olaf some bad news. Jacques was always the bearer of bad news when Olaf was still working alongside the Snickets. He grabbed the file’s case once more and threw it to the ground when he couldn’t find a date. Even with the film’s metallic case cling ing on the ground as it bounced from being thrown, Olaf could still hear every word Jacques was saying loud and clear.

 “It seems there may have been a survivor of a recent fire,” Jacques said again. Olaf grumbled as he kicked the air in front of his feet. Even while sitting he managed to stomp both feet as if he were a child throwing a temper tantrum and not simply a very highly unstable grown man going through his seventh midlife crisis in the last several months. As his hand ran through his hair again, he took a firm grip, slightly pulling in anger and desperation.

“Of course…” he cried, mockingly. “Of fucking course!”

His breathing became sharp and quick but not from fear as it had only a few minutes ago. Now his breathing was irregular because of his anger. He felt a tear or two form in his eyes as he thought about how the people who have wronged him could still be alive.

“No,” he cried out. His voice was somewhat desperate but mainly defeated. “No! This isn’t fair!” He screeched as he rewound the film again, not caring to turn it off. The film rewound although this rewind had slightly distorted the video. But Olaf didn’t pay it any attention. “ Nothing ever goes my way!” He barked, his voice still dripped desperation even if he was trying his best to mask it. He thought of each and every scheme that had failed since his pursuit of Klaus and Sunny Baudelaire, this revelation caused him to growl. It was bad enough that the kids were surviving him but now their hypocritical parents?

“I can’t believe it,” Olaf whined. “ This changes everything!” The vicious man grabbed at his hair again, pulling at it aggressively as he growled inhumanely. His mind flashed to the unconscious girl on the cutting table, the bespectacled boy who was desperately trying to rescue her, and the simpering infant with the sharp teeth.

“ They’re supposed to be orphans!”  He growled, shaking with each word.

As he yelled that last sentence, he shut his mouth abruptly. His expressionless face slowly growing into a Grinch-like grin as his eyes shone with an idea. He began to laugh lightly as if he had just remembered a joke that Esme or one of his troupe members had told him.

Olaf’s world was currently spiraling as his happiness about getting his revenge against Lemony Snicket may not have actually happened or that his second-hand revenge against Bertrand Markson and Beatrice Baudelaire didn’t occur either and this revelation sent him in a frenzy. The mere idea of a survivor had his entire soul heated up.

His face grew dark as he thought, once more, about their three plucky children. A cruel, vicious smile appeared on the man’s face. “ It would be fun to deal with the survivor and their precious children.” He said aloud, his light laughter turned into full-grown villainous howling as his dark mind began to imagine cruel scenarios for the survivor and their children. A cruel smile appeared on his face as he began to fantasize about how he would ‘take care’ of these orphans in front of their parents.

He thought first about little Sunny, and how he would rip the infant limb from limb, listening to her screams and cries of agony and her parents and siblings horrified pleads. He then thought about Klaus and how he would cut the bookworm in such a way where the young boy slowly bled out agonizingly slow, somehow surviving through to the very end of Olaf’s madness, only to be killed the last second when Olaf finally decides to put him out of his misery with a quick slit of his throat. The sick man reveled in the screams that the survivor and Klaus would be making. He already knew how fun it was to carve up the middle orphan as if he were a pumpkin in October and he was very eager to do it some more. But then finally, he thought about Violet, the girl who laid unconscious and restrained on the cutting table. A sick smile laced with the cruelest of intentions appeared on his face as he began to imagine all of the dark and twisted things he had planned for little Miss Snicket. The mere prospect of even having an audience to be forced to watch as he breaks their little girl in the cruelest way imaginable made Olaf smile wickedly.

 He could finally cause the survivor more pain than they had caused him and he would use their own children to do so.  Maybe he can twist the cruel reality of a survivor of a recent fire in his favor. It would only take postponing murdering the brats until he found out who was the survivor and then brutally torturing their children to death in front of them. Olaf shrugged his shoulders. It wasn’t what he had initially planned but this gave him more time to torment the children and that always made him feel a little happier.

Finally, Olaf stood turning to leave. He felt as though he had been away from the operating theater for too long and he was beginning to worry that the others couldn’t handle the Baudelaires and an unconscious Snicket girl. He would be so fucking pissed if Esme and the others lost his little pet. But as he turned his back to Jacques Snicket for the last time, film Jacques said it once more. “There may be a survivor of a recent fire.”

Olaf took one deep breath as he stood motionless for a second. Jacques’ words hitting Olaf slowly as if Jacques were standing right in front of him, stabbing him cruelly.  “I know!” Olaf hissed, his hands slowly tightening to white-knuckled fists. He let out a vicious growl that caused his whole body to shake aggressively.

Olaf turned towards the projector rapidly as he shoved the projector that played the film down onto the table. In a fit of blind rage, Olaf gripped the projector and began to beat it repeatedly against the table. “ Baudelaire!” he hissed as he continued to beat the projector against the table. “ Markson!” He growled again as he turned towards the chair that he had sat in and kicked it with all his might. As the psychotic man hissed, “ Snicket!” the chair flew across the room only stopping when it collided with one of the filing cabinets that had survived Esme’s rampage. He turned back towards the projector continuing to slam it against the table, eventually shoving it down and then pounding on the table with his fists. “ NOOOOOOO!” He bellowed in the empty library. His voice echoing and bouncing off the walls

He gripped onto the projector one last time and rapidly smacked it against the table once more and carefully watched with curiosity when a small flame had illuminated. Olaf instinctively tried to swat it out but then as his eyes shone bright with an idea, his face went dark with no emotion besides cold ruthlessness.

He slowly bent down towards the flame, his face darkening as his sick thoughts danced around his head laced with cruel intentions. He softly blew at the flame, nurturing it, allowing it to grow into a full-fledged fire. As he gazed at the intoxicating orange flames, reveling in the intense high he was feeling, he merely shrugged his shoulders.

What’s one more fire?

________________________________________________________________

Klaus gazed up at the crowd nervously as he and Sunny jumped when they heard a familiar laugh, far above them. The two younger orphans glanced at one another nervously and then focused their gazes towards the intercom speaker that was above them. The siblings had heard this laughter when Olaf had first captured the Quagmire triplets and Sunny, and when Esme had successfully pushed Klaus and Violet down the elevator shaft at 667 Dark Avenue, and when he had trapped the two older siblings in a locked Deluxe Cell or trapped Sunny and the Quagmires in a small cage at the bottom of an elevator shaft, a statue of a red herring, and a fountain. It was the triumphant laughter of someone who has cooked up a fiendish plot and succeeded, although it always sounded like the laughter of someone who has just told an excellent joke. Because he was laughing over the scratchy intercom, Olaf sounded as if he had a piece of aluminum foil over his mouth, but the laughter was still loud enough to help wear off the anesthesia only slightly, and Violet murmured something and tried to move her restrained arms.

“Oops,” Olaf said, interrupting his laughter when he noticed the intercom was on. “Attention!” Olaf cried as Klaus cried out a desperate ‘no’ in response. “This is Doctor Mattathias Medical-School with some very important news. A terrible fire has broken out in Heimlich Hospital.”

The crowd around the children gasped as they all stood up from their seats. Even the troupe and Esme glanced at one another nervously. “The fire was set in the Library of Records by that Baudelaire murderer and his baby accomplice!”

“ Toddler!” Sunny corrected as the crowd began to glare at her and her brother.

“Sunny, not the time,” Klaus whispered as he continued to gaze up at the intercom, silently pleading for Olaf to stop his treachery. He shook his head as Olaf spoke and continued to mouth the word ‘no’.

“The fire has spread through a number of wards. The orphans are still at large, so do everything you can to find them, arrest them, and bring them to me. ” he hissed into the intercom.

“No,” Sunny whimpered as the crowd around the children glared intensely.

“Oh, and you might want to evacuate the building...or move the patients...or something,” Olaf said nonchalantly. “Thank you. That is all.”

Their enemy’s voice disappeared in a matter of seconds. Klaus looked around desperately. “We...we...we couldn’t have started the fire! We’ve been in this operating theater the whole time!” he reasoned.

“Get them!” One nurse cried. “Somebody tell Mattathias we’ve captured the children!” she turned to Klaus and Sunny. “You three brats are in big trouble. You’re murderers, arsonists, kidnappers, and now spurious doctors.”

“Don’t forget thieves!” Hal cried, holding up the fake key ring.

“They get that from their mother!” Esme cried angrily, glaring daggers at Klaus.

“That’s…” Klaus began but then he looked towards his sisters. “Not...not all of that is true...I only disguised myself...to save…” But as he looked around, he feared that no one was believing him. He looked at the spurious keyring in Hals’ hands that he and his sisters had used to sneak into the Library of Records. He looked at his ripped medical coat, which he had used to disguise himself as a doctor and he looked at the rusty blade in his own hands, which he had just been holding over his unconscious older sister. Klaus remembered when he and Sunny lived with Uncle Monty, and the two siblings, with some help from a disguised Lemony Snicket, brought several objects to Mr. Poe as evidence to Olaf’s treacherous plot. Because of the small objects, Olaf was placed under arrest, and now Klaus was afraid that the same would happen to him and his sisters.

“Surround them!” The Hook-Handed Man cried, pointing at the children with a curved glove. “But be careful. The bookworm still has the knife!”

Olaf’s associates spread out in a circle and slowly began walking towards the youngsters at all angles. Sunny whimpered in fright and ran behind Klaus’ legs as Klaus was trying to guard both his sisters. Klaus quickly picked Sunny up and put her on the gurney.

“Capture those orphans!” a doctor cried.

The two white-faced women smiled wickedly at Klaus and Sunny. “We’ll perform surgery on all three of you!” one of the women shouted causing Esme to facepalm.

Hal looked to them in disbelief. “What?” he asked. “No, the children will go to prison, of course.”

“Well, technically they’ll be in juvenile detention until they come of age,” the henchperson of indeterminate gender explained.

“Ridiculous!” the bald man cried. “They should be tried as adults.”

“Murderers should get the chair,” one white-faced woman argued.

“We’re talking about children,” Hal complained.

“Very small chairs, then,” the other white-faced woman commented as the troupe took another step towards the children.

“We can discuss the details after we arrest them,” a volunteer fighting disease cried.

“Yeah! Stop arguing and arrest them!” another cried.

“That’s what we’re doing, you fool!” Esme cried impatiently, but when she turned her head towards the two Baudelaire orphans and the drowsy Snicket girl they saw her wink. “We’re going to capture only one of you,” she said, in a quiet voice so the audience couldn’t hear her. She had her eyes focused on Klaus, who backed into Violet’s gurney causing the Snicket girl to shriek slightly.

Sunny turned towards Violet. “Shhhh, it’s okay,” she whimpered to the drowsy Violet as she pets her hair softly.

Esme smiled as she glanced down at her stiletto shoes. “This in footwear isn’t just useful for making me look glamorous and feminine,” she explained as she took one of her heels off and pointed it right at the children. “These stilettos are perfect for slitting children’s throats.” she hissed under her breath, taking a small step closer to Klaus, who adjusted the large, rusty knife in his hands. “The two bratty girl orphans will be killed while trying to escape from justice, leaving the one bratty, little Baudelaire boy to give us the fortune.”

“You’ll never get your hands on our inheritance,” Klaus cried. “Or your shoes at my sisters’ throats.”

Esme merely shrugged. “We’ll see,” she cried, as she swung her shoe at Klaus as if it were a sword. Klaus ducked quickly and felt the whoosh! Of the air as the blade swept over him. He glanced at Esme confused. She had just explained her intention to kill his sisters not him, so why was she swinging her shoes at him. It didn’t take Klaus long to realize what Esme was doing as he jumped back up onto his feet in hopes of protecting Violet and Sunny.

“ She’s trying to kill us!” Klaus cried desperately. “Can’t you see? These are the real murderers!”

“No one will ever believe you,” Esme said in a sinister whisper and swung her shoe at Sunny, who moved away just in time.

“I don’t believe you!” Hal cried. “My eyesight may not be what it used to be, but I could see that phony medical coat on the ground.”

“I don’t believe you either!” a nurse cried. “I can see that rusty knife!”

Esme swung her shoe towards the drowsy Violet this time, Klaus maneuvering Violet’s gurney out of the way in the nick of time. “Why don’t you surrender?” Esme hissed. “We’ve finally trapped you, just as you trapped Olaf all those other times.”

“When did we ever…” Klaus cried as he jumped back away from Esme’s attack.

“Now you know what it feels like to be a villain!” the bald man yelled. “Move closer, everyone! Mattathias told me whoever grabs them first gets to choose where to go for dinner tonight!”

Klaus looked at the group of villains in disbelief. He scanned towards the crowd looking for any friendly or helpful face. He frowned when he realized that no one was going to help them or stick up for the children. Esme could literally slit one of their throats and no one in this half-emptied crowd would bat an eyelash.

“Is that so?” the Hook-Handed Man asked. “Well I’m in the mood for pizza.” he swung a rubber-gloved hook at Klaus, who fell back against the gurney, rolling himself and his sister out of the evil man’s reach even if it was only a few inches.

“I feel more like Chinese food,” one of the white-faced women said. “Let’s go to that place where we celebrated the Quagmire and Baudelaire kidnapping.”

“I want to go to Cafe Salmonella,” Esme snarled.

Klaus pushed against the gurney again, wheeling it in the other direction as the circle of associates closed in on him and his sisters. He held the rusty knife up for protection as he listened to the whimpering of his younger sister and watched the restrained struggles of his elder sister. Klaus did not think he could use a weapon, even on people as wicked as these. Even if that dark thought had crossed his mind more than ten times in the last five minutes. He frowned when he realized that he was thinking just like Count Olaf. He shook his head slightly, he refused to be anything like Olaf. He knew if Count Olaf would have been trapped, he would not have hesitated to swing the rusty blade at the people who were surrounding him, but despite what the bald man had said, Klaus did not feel like a villain or rather, he didn’t want to feel like a villain. He didn’t want to feel a thing like Olaf. He refused to be the thing he hated the most. What Klaus did feel like though, was someone who needed to escape.

“Klaus...what do we do?” Sunny asked in a terrified whisper as the troupe and Esme took another step towards the kids.

“I...I don’t know, Sunny…” he admitted as he backed into his sister’s gurney again, he glanced down at Violet and then at Sunny, giving his younger sister a small smile, because he knew just how the three siblings were going to escape. “But a great mind once told me... there’s always something, ” he said as he smiled down at the drowsy Violet, who merely looked up at him with a face full of fear, disorientation, and confusion.

“Get back!” Klaus cried as he focused on the villains. “This knife is very sharp!”

“You can’t kill all of us,” the Hook-Handed Man replied. “In fact, I doubt you have the courage to kill anyone.”

“It doesn’t take courage to kill someone,” Klaus replied. “It takes a severe lack of moral stamina.”

“That is a wonderful way to describe your parents,” Esme commented, smirking.

“Wait...what…?”

“But I’m afraid, your fancy words won’t save you now, you twerp.” Esme snarled mockingly.

“That’s true,” Klaus admitted. “What will save me now is a bed on  wheels used to transport hospital patients,”

Without another word, Klaus tossed the rusty knife to the floor, startling Olaf’s associates into stepping back. Esme even dropped her stiletto shoe in shock. The circle of people with a severe lack of moral stamina was spread out a little more, just for a moment, but a moment was all the Baudelaires needed. Klaus gripped Violet’s gurney tightly and began to roll his sisters off the stage. Before he had a chance to jump on the gurney himself, he felt something sharp prying at his skin.

“Oh no, you don’t,” Esme hissed as she gripped Klaus’ arm tightly. Digging her stiletto nails into his skin as roughly as he could. The young boy cried out as the vile woman smirked. Klaus desperately tried to push the gurney that held his sisters away but Esme kept him in place.

“Please…” Klaus pleaded, forgetting that Esme was like Olaf and she had absolutely no humanity left within her.

“ Please…” Esme mocked, beginning to chuckle. “ You three aren’t going anywhere!” she hissed into Klaus’ ear as he continued to struggle to get the vile woman to let him go. Olaf’s troupe just stood stupidly around unsure of what to do. While more of the crowd had decided that exiting a burning hospital was a better idea then capturing three falsely-accused orphans. Although some of the crowd did stay to help capture the kids. “Olaf and I have plans for each of you…” Esme snarled as she glanced towards a terrified Sunny who sat at the foot of Violet’s gurney. “Ain’t that right, babylaire?”

Sunny looked to the confused and struggling Violet to the terrified and struggling Klaus and then at the smirking bitch who held them in place. Sunny grimaced and shook her head, a faint attempt to get Olaf’s and Esme’s voices out of her head as she began to remember the cruel, vicious details of the villain’s plot to murder her and her siblings. Sunny began to shake where she sat as Esme gripped Klaus’ arm tighter. Klaus grimaced and groaned in pain as he glanced towards Sunny with pleading eyes. Sunny felt a knot in her stomach, knowing the last time that she had used her teeth to help someone it had ended badly for her. She remembered the muzzle, the beating, the drugging. Even the time she bit Olaf to get him to release Klaus which resulted in her own kidnapping. Fear was paralyzing her to her core. But then Sunny remembered what Olaf told her about what he had done to Klaus and she took another look at Violet, who was bruised and tied, and those factors alone shattered Sunny’s fear and replaced it with pure hatred.

“ Let’s go, brats. Maybe if you’re lucky, we’ll wait until the girl wakes up to dispose of the brats we don’t need,” Esme hissed in Klaus’ ear, loud enough for Sunny to hear. Sunny glared at the woman before shakily standing up on the gurney and running towards the vile woman with each wobbly step, she caused the gurney that held her and her older sister to shake.

Violet shook her head from side to side, faster than before but still, her movements were halted by the anesthetic. “The...earth’s...ending!” Violet shouted.

Sunny reached her destination as she bit Esme’s wrist as hard as she could causing the woman to let go of her brother and scream in pain.

“ You vile beast!” Esme hissed. “ The baby bit me!”

Sunny quickly sat down as Esme gripped her own arm. Klaus took this opportunity to turn towards the villainess, giving her a rough shove which caused her to plummet to the ground, effectively breaking the stiletto shoes that she was still wearing. Esme crashed into the ground with a growl as she reached for Klaus’ pant leg. But it was too late, she gripped onto the air because the children were already running out of the operating theater.

A cry rose from the remaining audience as the Baudelaires sped past Olaf’s associates. Esme screamed a high pitched shriek causing several people to cringe and cover their ears. “ AFTER THEM YOU IMBECILES!” she screeched to the troupe who then realized what had just happened and began running after the children in hot pursuit.

“They won't get away from me!” Hal cried as he gripped the side of Violet’s gurney.

“Hal... please.” Klaus whimpered as the gurney slowed to a halt.

“You destroyed my library!” Hal cried defensively.

Both Klaus and Sunny glanced behind them and then Sunny glanced back at the old man. Butterflies fluttered in the youngest Baudelaire’s stomach as Hal glared at her from behind his tiny glasses. Unlike Olaf’s associates, Hal was not an evil person, well as far as they know. My research says otherwise. He merely was someone who loved the Library of Records and was trying to capture the people he believed had set it on fire, and it pained Sunny to see that he thought she was an evil criminal, instead of an unlucky toddler. But she knew she did not have time to explain to Hal what had really happened. She scarcely had time to say a single word, and yet that is precisely what the youngest Baudelaire orphan did.

“Sorry,” Sunny said to Hal and gave him a big smile. Then she opened her mouth a little wider and bit Hal’s hand as gently as she could so that he would let go of the gurney without getting hurt. Which is the exact opposite thing she did to Esme.

“Ow!” Hal whined. “The baby bit me!”

“ Join the club!” Esme screamed as she began to stand up. Klaus rolled his sisters out of the door, he stopped pushing as Violet shook her head left and right trying to move the hair out of her eyes. Sunny looked at her brother with confusion but then understood what he was doing when he grabbed a mop and successfully barricaded the door to the operating theater. Klaus gripped onto his sister’s gurney once more as Olaf’s troupe reached the door and were trying to use their combined weight and strength to break Klaus’ barricade. Klaus didn’t stick around long enough to find out just how handy this idea was because he began racing down the hallway.

“Oh no no no,” Klaus cried as he took a quick glance behind him. He tried to run faster than before, he glanced down at Violet who was shaking her head still. She squinted up at him, her face was unreadable. Klaus could see that his sister’s eyes weren’t focusing. Sunny leaned closer to Violet to brush her sister’s hair from her face gently.

Klaus was running fast enough to when he reached the first corner, he skids around it rapidly, nearly losing his footing. He glanced towards the direction that he had just come from and he could see Olaf’s troupe running and chasing him.

“Don’t let them get away!” The hook-handed man yelled. “Tackle them!”

“This is like PE class all over again!” The Henchperson of Indeterminate Gender whined.

“Tell me about it!” Klaus called back to them, remembering Olaf’s cruel scheme back at Prufrock.

“Stop! Murderers!” a doctor behind the troupe called out.

“Weeeeeeeeeee,” Violet cried as she jerked her wrists up trying to clap in excitement. Violet’s wrists made a harsh, loud impact as her restraints caught her limp arms. Her eyes rounder her sockets as she looked at Klaus confused. “Where….what….am I….?” she asked, her voice ringing of utter confusion.

Klaus and Sunny glanced at one another worriedly. “Sunny, start biting through her restraints,”

Sunny merely nodded as she began to chew through the leather belt that was around her sister’s wrists and ankles.

“Attention!” announced Olaf’s voice.

“ Oh, would you just shut the fuck up! ” Klaus yelled towards the intercom as loudly as he could, utterly frustrated with Olaf’s bullshit.

“This is Mattathias, the Head of Human Resources! The murderous arsonist orphans are escaping on a gurney! Capture them at once! Also, the fire is spreading throughout the hospital! You might want to evacuate!”

“Hurry!” Sunny cried. As Sunny broke through one of Violet’s restraints, the two Baudelaires watched happily as Violet slowly lifted up her wrist, but their happiness soon turned into horror when they realized she was unable to hold it up for too long and the two younger siblings watched as their older sister’s wrist fell limp on the side of the gurney, dangling lifelessly.

“I’m going as fast as I can!” Klaus cried, trying to increase his speed. Klaus steered the gurney and ran as fast as his legs could carry him while Sunny held on for dear life as she worked on freeing her older sister. “ Violet, wake up, please! ” he cried, his voice thick with tears of desperation. “ I can’t do this…”

“I’m...try...ing….” Violet muttered, squinting around her. The anesthesia made everything seem faint and foggy, and it was almost impossible for her to speak, let alone move.

“ Try harder, please.” Klaus pleased. “You can help push.”

Sunny just glanced at him with bewilderment. “She can’t push,” Sunny told her brother, Klaus merely rolled his eyes and ignored Sunny.

“Violet…” Klaus called out as he continued to push the gurney. Violet’s eyes flickered open and closed. “The hospital’s on fire…and I don’t know what to do!” he cried in a panicky voice.

Violet only smiled a goofy smile up at him. “Y-you...came...back...for...for me?” her own voice was drowsy from the anesthetic but she was choking on her own tears.

Klaus and Sunny looked at one another and then at her. “Why wouldn’t we?” Klaus asked.

“Sister!” Sunny yelled.

Violet, still a bit woozy from the anesthetic, slowly glanced around as Sunny freed her other wrist, she put her gentle, limp hand on Sunny’s head, smiling at her. Tears falling from her eyes. “...you...you both...came back,” she said happily, her demeanor immediately changing to sadness. “B-b-but...but...O-Olaf...s-s-said you...left…” she cried, trying to use her limp hand to wipe away her tears, but every attempt was slow and never truly wiped away the entire tear. Sunny smiled at her big sister and leaned closer to wipe Violet’s tears from her eyes.

“Fuck what Olaf said!” Klaus shouted. “We would never leave you!” Klaus felt a little insulted that Violet would believe Olaf when he had told this blatant lie but he also could fault Violet, who knew what she had been through and for how long she had been drugged. Maybe she is only believing what Olaf had said because she was high on the knockout drugs. Klaus was cautiously running through the burning hospital, still panicked beyond belief. He understood why Violet was a bit distracted but he would much rather have this discussion when he and both of his sisters were out of danger.  

Sunny smiled down at her sister. “Ohana.” the toddler stated and Klaus knew that this needed no translation even to a very disoriented Violet. Violet smiled at her baby sister as Sunny pulled Violet’s locket from around her neck. “We love you, too,” Sunny said, as she put the locket around Violet’s neck gently.

The troupe was hot on their tails as the children passed another group of confused nurses and doctors. “Those must be those murderers Mattathias was talking about!” one cried. “Let’s help those other doctors capture them!”

Klaus steered the gurney around a corner, as several more hospital staff joined the chase. “Violet...we’re in trouble…”

“I...get...that…”

“Wake up,” Klaus begged Violet, who was looking around her in a confused way. “ Please, Violet!”

“Door!” Sunny shrieked as Violet limply grabbed Sunny in hopes of shielding her of any danger as Klaus pushed the gurney through the doors. Once the children were through the doors, Klaus was about to go down a specific hallway until the children caught a glimpse of bright orange flames.

“...what’s...that…?” Violet asked confused, gazing towards the bright orange flames until she couldn’t see them anymore. Sunny took this time to carefully crawl down to Violet’s ankles where she could see her sister had also been restrained. Sunny quickly began chewing through a third of Violet’s restraints until she heard a snap! Of the leather fabric. Sunny smiled as she crawled to the other side and began working on the final restraint.

“I told you there’s a fire and I need your help to escape,” Klaus pleaded.

“F...fire?” Violet repeated. “...where?”

“Here. In the hospital,”

“W-why...are...are we...in...a hos...pital?”

“That’s a rather long and depressing story,” Klaus said. “It’s also not important…” Klaus smiled at Sunny when he saw her sit up and give him two thumbs up, her way of indicating that Violet was no longer restrained.

“Get back here you brats!” the bald man yelled.

Klaus continued to push the gurney that carried his sisters as he watched frantic hospital staff run right past him, more concerned about finding safety than capturing the children. Klaus pushed every empty gurney he passed behind him in hopes of slowing down the angry mob.

“Stairs!” Sunny yelled, pointing to a staircase. Klaus turned the gurney in the direction his sister indicated. Sunny’s eyes widened with fear once she realized what her brother might be doing. She quickly crawled back closer to Violet and him, preferring to be on that side of the gurney if she was right about what Klaus was planning.

“Sunny, hold on,” Klaus cried as he jumped on to the back of the gurney holding on for dear life as Sunny took the opportunity of grabbing onto both Klaus and Violet, her way of attempting to keep them from falling off. The children began to roll down the stairs, bouncing up and down with each step. It was a fast, slippery ride that reminded Klaus of playgrounds that he would visit with his parents when he was younger. At a curve in the staircase, Klaus scraped his shoes against the floor to stop the gurney, and then leaned over to look at one of the hospitals’ confusing maps.

“I’m trying to figure out if we should go through that door,” he said, pointing at a door marked ‘Ward for People with Nasty Rashes’. “Or continue down the staircase.”

“We can’t go down,” Sunny cried as she pointed a finger downward. Klaus looked and even Violet managed to focus enough to look down where Sunny was pointing. Down the staircase, just past the next landing, was a flickering, orange glow, as if the sun was rising out of the hospital basement, and a few wisps of dark black smoke were curling up the staircase like the tentacles of some ghostly animal. It was an eerie sight that had haunted the two younger Baudelaires in their dreams, ever since that fateful day at the beach when all their trouble began and had only haunted Violet since she had been sent to Prufrock. For a moment, the three children were unable to do anything but stare down at the orange glow and the tentacles of smoke, and think about all they had lost because of what they were looking at.

“Fire,” Violet cried faintly.

“Yes,” Klaus sighed. “It’s spreading up this staircase. We’ve got to turn and go back upstairs.”

From upstairs, the orphans listened to Olaf’s troupe members arguing.

“No up,” Sunny said.

“I can see that,” Klaus replied. He gave a low growl as he turned his sisters’ gurney towards the door marked ‘Ward for People with Nasty Rashes’, having made this rash decision, Klaus turned the gurney and wheeled it through the door, just as his favorite person began speaking over the intercom.

“Fuck you!” Sunny screamed at the intercom.

“This is Mattathias!” he said hurriedly. “All associates of mine, continue to search for those children! Everyone else, gather in front of the hospital! Either we will catch those murderous orphans as they escape, or like their pesky parents ... they’ll be burned to a crisp! ” The children shuddered as they all listened to the unhinged madman laugh into the intercom microphone once more. Laughing as though he was a Disney villain who had just momentarily won against the protagonist.

Klaus and Sunny looked at each other worriedly when they watched Violet shudder. She slowly wrapped her arms around herself. “I-I...I don’t….l-like...fires,” she admitted softly, not looking either sibling in the eye. “...I...lost...m-my....dad...in a….f-f-fire,”

Klaus frowned as Sunny merely nodded. “We know. We did, too, sis.” Klaus cried.

“Have each other,” Sunny explained.

The children’s eyes got wide when they heard Olaf’s troupe members once again approaching. Klaus rolled his sisters’ gurney into the Ward for People with Nasty Rashes and saw that Mattathias was right. The gurney was racing down a hallway, and the children could see another orange glow at the far end of it.

“...no…” Violet whimpered. The children heard another brief argument behind them as Olaf’s associates lumbered down the stairs. The three siblings were trapped in the middle of a hallway that led only to a fiery death or Olaf’s clutches.

Klaus started breathing heavily as he was trying to weigh his options in his head. While Violet wrapped her limp arms around Sunny. Klaus leaned down and stopped the gurney. “We’d better hide,” he said, jumping to the floor. “It’s too dangerous to be rolling around like this.”

“Where?” Sunny asked desperately, as Klaus helped Violet sit up on the gurney. Klaus quickly took Sunny from Violet’s arm and set her on the ground.

“Someplace close by,” Klaus said, grabbing Violet’s arm. “The anesthesia is still wearing off, so Violet can’t walk too far.”

“I’ll...try…” Violet murmured, stepping unsteadily off the gurney and leaning onto Klaus. Sunny glanced around nervously for a hiding place. Her eyes quickly caught a door that read ‘Supply Closet’ and even if Sunny Baudelaire wasn’t the best reader, she still pointed her small finger towards the door.

“Over there!” Sunny cried as she raced towards the supply closet and opening it up.

“I guess so,” Klaus said doubtfully as he leaned Violet up against the wall. Violet began sliding down the moment that she was left to stand on her own. Klaus quickly turned towards the now empty gurney that Olaf had used to restrain his older sister. He gripped the gurney and waited until he saw the angry mob running towards him. He pushed the gurney with all his might towards the crowd that was trying to help Olaf capture the children. The gurney hit Brandon with enough force that it caused him to fall to the ground, wincing at the pain that had been afflicted on him.

Klaus hurried back to his older sister, who was practically napping on the floor. “Come on, Vi. This way. This way.”  He dragged the limp Violet towards the supply closet as he gripped the doorknob with one hand while balancing his sister with the other. “I don’t know what we can do in a supply closet, but at least it’ll hide us for a few moments.”

Klaus helped his older sister through the door, immediately slamming the door behind him and locking it. Except for a small window in the corner, the closet looked identical to the one where Klaus and Sunny had hidden to decipher the anagram in the patient list. It was a small room, with only one flickering lightbulb hanging from the ceiling, and there were rows of white medical coats hanging from hooks, a rusty sink, huge cans of alphabet soup, cases of surgical tubing, and small boxes of rubber bands, and a small chair. But as the two younger Baudelaires looked at these supplies, they did not look like devices for translating anagrams or impersonating medical professionals. Klaus and Sunny looked at all these objects, and then at their older sister. To their relief, Violet’s face was a bit less pale, and her eyes were a bit less confused, which was a very good sign. The eldest of the three orphans needed to be as awake as she could be, because the items in the closet were looking less and less like supplies and more and more like materials for an invention.

You see, when Violet Snicket was five years old, she won her first invention contest with an automatic rolling pin she’d fashioned out of a broken window shade and six pairs of roller skates. As the judges placed the gold medal around her neck, she could remember her father saying, “I bet you could invent something with both hands tied behind your back.” and the judges agreed while Violet smiled proudly. She knew, of course, that her father and the judges did not mean that they were going to tie her hands behind her back and watch as she tried to invent something, but merely that she was so skilled at inventing that she could probably build something even with substantial interference, a phrase which here means ‘something getting in her way’.

The young Snicket girl had proved the judges and her father right dozens of times, of course, inventing everything from a lockpick to inventing a way to get herself and her younger brother out of jail back in the Village of Fowl Devotees with the substantial interference of being in a hurry and not having the right tools. But violet thought she had never had as much substantial interference as the lingering effects of anesthesia as she squinted at the objects in the supply closet and tried to focus on what her siblings were saying.

“Violet,” Klaus cried worriedly, watching Violet shakily push her hair behind her ear. Klaus couldn’t tell if she was shaking from anxiety and fear or if she was cold seeing that she was now barefoot and all she wore was a hospital gown. “I know that the anesthesia hasn’t completely worn off, but we need you to try to invent something...I can’t...last time I...I invented...something...he…he...” Klaus said as he closed his eyes slowly beginning to shake, placing his arms across his chest.

“Shhhh…” Violet cooed for longer than she wanted because her brain felt like mush and she forgot what she was focusing on. “...I...know,” she said faintly, rubbing her eyes with her hands slowly in a desperate attempt to focus her eyes.

“We’ll...we will...help you all we can,” Klaus said as he slowly began to calm down.

“My teeth are at…” Sunny chimed in, showing off her sharp teeth. “At your service.”

“Just tell us what we need to do,” Klaus cried.

“T-tell me….again...wha...what’s hap...pen...ning?” Violet asked, her head spinning as she slowly slid down the wall she was leaning on. Klaus ran to Violet’s aide hurriedly standing her up and sitting her down in the chair that Sunny had pushed towards her older siblings.

“The fire is consuming this entire hospital, and we have to get out of here quickly!,” he cried desperately as the henchperson of Indeterminate Gender, Brandon, and a few others from the angry mob began to knock on the door. “Oh and not only is Olaf after us, but another angry mob who thinks we’re criminals are right outside this door.”

Klaus ran towards the door to push his back against it, hoping to keep the mob out of the supply closet. He was well aware that he had already locked the door but he felt more secure pressing his weight against the door.

“Open up in there!” the Henchperson cried as the knocking ceased.

“What? No!” Klaus cried, giving an incredulous face towards the mere thought of surrendering now.

“Please,” the henchperson cried as they began to knock on the door once.

“ Violet! ” Klaus cried. “Right now would be a really good time for one of your plans!”

“Brain blast!” Sunny cried desperately.

“Wait, I thought I was Jimmy Neutron,” Klaus asked confused.

“Eh, you both are,” Sunny replied, with a shrug of her shoulders.

Violet slowly leaned back in the chair, pointing a limp finger at the window. “Open...the window,” she directed as Klaus gazed from the locked door to the window. He sighed as he ran towards the window opening it.

“Now what?” he asked.

“H-how...high...are we?” Violet asked, giggling slightly.

The middle orphan glanced outside. “It looks like we’re on the third floor, maybe the fourth. That’s probably around thirty or forty feet, I think,” he responded. “There’s so much smoke in the air, so it’s hard to tell. We’re not so high up, but we’re too high to jump.”

“Climb?” Sunny asked.

“There’s an intercom speaker right below us,” Klaus explained. “I suppose we could hang on to that and climb down to the bushes below, but we’d be climbing in front of a huge crowd…”

He turned to Violet, whose eyes were slowly closing, he could tell by how she strained her face that she was desperately trying to keep her eyes open. Klaus looked to Sunny worriedly. “ Vi, please,” he cried. “I hate to pressure you...but...I can’t do this without you,” he felt tears forming in his eyes.

“Can you invent something that can make us fly?” Sunny asked slowly.

Violet frowned and closed her eyes, slowly shaking her head. “S-sorry...no...fairy...dust here…” she cried.

“Violet?” Klaus called out, after a moment of watching his sister keep her eyes closed. “You’re not falling asleep, are you?” he asked gently but frantically.

“No,” she replied. “I’m...thinking.” she sighed. “We...need...to distract...the crowd...before...we...climb down,”

The two younger orphans nodded as Violet pointed a finger towards her brother. “Open...those...boxes...of rubber...bands. String them...together...to make...a cord,”

Klaus looked down and watched the volunteers giving evacuated hospital patients balloons. “But how will that distract the crowd?”

“I...don’t...know…” Violet admitted and looked to the floor. “I...I can’t...do this,”

Klaus and Sunny’s eyes widened when Violet said that. “Yes you can,” Sunny cried.

“I’m having...trouble...focusing...my...inventing...skills,” she admitted as her eyes filled to the brim with tears. “I’m...sorry,” Violet shakily tried to reach into her pocket until she realized she didn’t have any pockets. She began to shudder as she sat. Remembering her time as Olaf’s captive and how he had forced her to change from her overalls to the hospital gown. “He...he...he...he took my...last...ribbon…”

“Help,” Sunny said, as she walked over to her big sister.

“Don’t cry for help, Sunny,” Klaus said miserably. “No one will help us,”

“Help,” Sunny insisted as the youngest orphan grabbed a hold of one of the medical coats that hung on the coat rack. She opened her mouth wide and she bit down on the fabric, ripping a small strip off the coat with her teeth. Then she held up the strip of white cloth and handed it to Violet. “Ribbon,” Sunny explained as Violet gave her baby sister a weary smile. With unsteady fingers, the eldest orphan tied her hair up to keep it out of her eyes, using the thin strip of fabric instead of her hair ribbon. She closed her eyes again, and then slowly nodded.

“I know...it’s silly…” she admitted. “But...it helps,” she placed a shaky, pale hand on Sunny’s head. “Thank...you...Sunny,”

The eldest orphan sighed as she strained her face still trying to overcome the effects of the anesthetic. “Klaus...get to work...on the...rubber...bands. S-Sunny...can you open….one of these...soup cans?”

“Yes, I opened some,” Sunny began. “Earlier to help Klaus.”

Violet smiled at the toddler. With her hair up in a ribbon, even if the ribbon was spurious, her voice sounded a bit stronger and more confident than it had before, although both siblings could tell she was still disoriented. “We need...an...empty...can...asap,”

The three siblings worked quickly. Klaus opened a box of rubber bands and began tying them together using the Devil’s Tongue Knot. Sunny began to gnaw at the top of a can of soup and Violet slowly scooted her chair towards the small sink and splashed water in her face to try to make herself as alert as possible. Finally, Klaus had a long cord of rubber bands curled at his feet like a snake, Sunny had taken the top off a can of soup and was quickly pouring the contents of the can down the sink, and Violet was staring anxiously at the bottom of the closet door, from which a very thin wisp of smoke was crawling through.

“The fire...is...getting...closer,” she alerted her siblings. Even with the fire closing in on the orphans, the crowd outside the door hadn’t left and continued to bang on the door. Klaus imagined if it were any other henchperson who had found the children, that door would be torn off the hinges by now so Klaus was happy that it was the Henchperson of Indeterminate Gender who was leading the angry mob.

“The cord is all ready,” Klaus cried. Violet merely frowned.

“Not...long...enough,” she cried, looking around.

“Tube?” Sunny asked as she pulled a long piece of surgical tubing out of a bin that was placed on a few of the shelves in the supply closet.

Violet merely nodded. “It’ll...have...to...do. Klaus...tie...our cord...and the...tube...together,”

Klaus looked at his sister confused but followed her orders. “Are you sure you tied your hair tight enough? How can we distract a crowd with an empty soup can?”

“Incompetent,” Sunny chimed in which meant, “I mean I know they are all incompetent and unhelpful as Mr. Poe but I don’t think they are all stupid enough to be distracted by an empty soup can.”

Klaus quickly translated for Violet. Violet gave a light giggle. “It’s not...an...empty...soup can. Well...not...anymore,” she explained slowly. “Now...it’s...a spurious...intercom. Sunny...poke one...hole in….the bottom...of the can,”

“Wha?” Sunny replied in complete and utter confusion, but she did as her elder sister asked because Sunny trusted Violet wholeheartedly even if she didn’t understand the point. Sunny knew that Violet’s inventive skills had helped save her, herself, and their brother before. So she quickly poked a hole in the bottom of the can using her sharpest tooth.

“Now...Sunny and I...are going...to hold...this near...the window…” she explained. “But we...must...make sure...the crowd...doesn’t see it…”

“I don’t follow,”

“The crowd...has to...think your...voice...is coming...from the...intercom.”

“My voice?”

“I...can’t...I’m too...drowsy...and I...sound...nothing...like...Olaf,”

“I don’t either!” Klaus cried defensively.

Violet put a limp hand on Klaus’ shoulder. “I know...but...the crowd...will know...something’s...up...if I do...it,”

Klaus sighed but nodded his head. Violet and Sunny held the empty can near the window, and Klaus leaned in and stuck his head inside it as if it were a mask. The middle orphan took a deep breath to gather his courage, and then he began to speak. From inside the can his voice sounded scratchy and faint as if he was talking with a piece of aluminum foil over his mouth, which was precisely how Violet wanted him to sound.

“Attention!” Klaus announced. “This is Mattathias Medical-School, head of Human Resources.” he rolled his eyes as he continued. “The murderous orphans have been spotted in the unfinished wing of the hospital.” Violet smiled as she and Sunny gave him a thumbs up. “We require everyone’s assistance in making sure they do not escape. Please rush over there right away. That is all!”

Klaus pulled his head out of the can and looked at his sisters. “Do you think it worked?”

Sunny opened her mouth to answer but she was interrupted by the voice of Brandon Spats. “Did you hear that?” the children heard him say. “The criminals are over in the unfinished wing of the hospital! Come on, everyone.”

“Maybe some of us should stay here at the front entrance, just in case,” the children heard Hal suggest.

Klaus sighed as he stuck his head back into the can that his sisters were holding. “Attention! This is Mattathias! No one should stay at the front entrance of the hospital! It’s too dangerous! Proceed at once to the unfinished wing. That is all.”

The three children snuck glances outside the window as the crowd slowly began to walk away from the front of Heimlich Hospital.

“It...worked,” Violet cried in disbelief. “We...fooled them…”

“We’re as good at tricking people as Olaf is,” Klaus commented, a frown forming on his face. “And at disguises...we fooled everyone but him,”

“Anagrams,” Sunny added.

“And lying...to...people,” Violet cried, thinking of Hal, the shopkeeper at Last Chance General Store and all the Volunteers Fighting Disease.

Klaus sighed. “Maybe we’re becoming villains after all,”

“No!” Sunny shrieked. “Don’t say that.”

“We’re...not...villains…” Violet countered, even if her gut feeling was saying something completely different. “We had...to do...tricky...things...in order...to save...our lives.”

“Olaf has to do tricky things,” Klaus countered. “To save his life,”

“Different,” Sunny argued.

Violet merely frowned. “Maybe...Klaus...is right. Maybe...it’s...not...different.” Violet said sadly. “Maybe…”

Violet was interrupted by the Henchperson of Indeterminate Gender sighing angrily and now using a fire extinguisher to break down the door that separated them from the three terrified and morally grey orphans.

“We can discuss this later,” Klaus said. “We have to get the fuck out of here!”

“Climb?” Sunny asked, looking at the rubber bands and surgical tubing.

“We’re not...climbing...we’re...bouncing,” Violet explained.

“What!?” Klaus cried.

“Bounce?” Sunny asked doubtfully.

Violet merely nodded. “Klaus, tie...our rope...to this pipe,” she said, pointing to a pipe that was located right next to the door. “This way...it breaks...our fall,”

“Is this safe? ” Klaus asked, taking another look out the window and feeling anxious about his sister’s plan and how high they are.

“Plenty...of...people...bounce from...high...places on long...rubbery...cords...for fun,” violet said. “So...we can...do it...to escape,”

Klaus sighed. “I don’t know...this sounds risky,” he cried. “For one...I doubt the cord is long enough.”

“Look...it is... risky,” Violet admitted. “But...not...as risky...as a fire,”

“Or Olaf,” Sunny added nervously.

The Henchperson of Indeterminate Gender continued to pound on the door of the supply closet with the fire extinguisher. Black smoke was beginning to pour through the crack as if the henchperson was pouring ink into the closet. Even the air outside was unsettling and filled with smoke. Klaus sighed and hurriedly tied the cord to the pipe and then tugged on it to make sure it was secure.

“Okay...who’s...going...first?” Violet asked drowsily. She was leaning against the wall again since she didn’t have all the feeling in her legs back yet.

“First?” Sunny asked, confused.

Klaus merely gave her a look of utter disbelief.

“Fine...you two...are nervous.” Violet cried, shrugging her shoulders. Assuming that her siblings’ issue was the invention’s safety and not her insisting they take turns. “I...invented...it, so I’d...better...test it.”

“No,” Klaus said simply.

“Then...go first,” Violet said.

“We’re not taking turns, Vi!”

“Together,” Sunny explained.

“If we...all...go down...together,” Violet said. “I’m...not sure...the cord will...hold,”

“Tough shit,” Klaus replied.

“Fine,” Violet cried. “ Sunny, will...go first...then,”

Klaus growled and rushed over to Violet, seemingly irritated with his older sister. He grabbed her harshly by the shoulders, she fell slightly in his grasp which made him instantly regret rushing up to her. But he knew he had to drive a point across. He gripped her shoulders and shook her a bit. The way she was limp from the anesthetic made it look like Klaus was harshly shaking his sister but Sunny knew that wasn’t the case. “ Listen to me very carefully, Vi!” he hissed. “ There is no first! We are not separating ever again!” Violet stared back at him, he could still tell that she couldn’t entirely focus on anything. “ This family sticks together!” he yelled causing her to start to tear up. “ We are not splitting up!”

“But...but...b-but…” she sniffled. “Snickers...Snick...S-Snickets...take care...of...their own.” she reasoned as she put a shaky hand on her locket.

Sunny merely looked up at Violet. “So do Baudelaires.”

Violet only shook her head. “B-but...Olaf...Olaf said…”

Klaus jumped when it sounded like the Henchperson was finally creating damage against the door. “Goddammit, Vi! Fuck Olaf! I hope he fucking burns to death in this fire!” Klaus cried as he released his grip on sister but kept a gentle hand on her shoulder. “ Especially if he hurt you.” Klaus frowned as he said it, purposely emphasizing the word ‘hurt’ to try to hint at Olaf’s disgusting, vile behavior towards Violet that was different from his behavior towards Klaus and Sunny. Violet looked towards Klaus and then to Sunny, eventually frowning and softly shaking her head and giving a small shrug in response.

There was an uncomfortable silence between the three siblings until Violet turned towards both Klaus and Sunny. “It won’t...support all...of us,” she explained.

“We’re not leaving anyone behind,” he said firmly. “Not this time. Either we all escape, or none of us do.”

“But if...none of...us do,” Violet said tearfully. “Then there...won’t be...anyone left...Olaf will...have won.”

Klaus shook his head as he reached into his pockets and pulled out one of the old photographs that he and Sunny had retrieved back when they lived at their Aunt Josephine’s. Klaus unfolded it and his sisters could see it was a photograph taken some years before Violet was even born. In the middle of the photograph, just like the one hidden in the depths of Lemony Snicket’s wallet, stood three people. All smiling and holding each other's hands. Klaus pointed first towards the tall, skinny man with glasses, then he pointed to a brown-haired woman who wore a fierce smile as she held the hands of the men she loved, and then finally he pointed to a man who wore a frown on his face, and a fedora and trenchcoat in hopes of masking his identity. “Jacques Snicket...your uncle...said there was a survivor of a recent fire ,” Klaus explained, his voice thick with tears.

Violet’s eyes widened. “The film...do you...still...have it?”

“No...we had to give it to Esme to save you,” he explained. “But that’s not important.” he looked from his little sister to his big sister. “We have to survive and find them. All of us . We all deserve to see who the survivor is. We all deserve that happy ending we’ve been wanting for a while now.” the middle orphan began to tear up. As his guilt began to surface. “and I’d rather die than lose either one of my sisters... again.” The bookworm quickly wiped away a few of his tears. “I can’t...I won’t let him take either of you, again.”

Klaus looked down at Sunny and then to Violet. She stood shakily before him in a mere hospital gown and she was bruised. Her cheeks were still red, her wrists and ankles had severe chafing from her struggling against her restraints, that they were either raw or simply pink. “I’m so sorry, Violet.” Klaus cried.

“Not your fault,” Sunny said as she watched Violet struggle to speak.

He looked down at Sunny. “I’m so sorry to you, too, Sunny. He only got you because you were protecting me. You both...were protecting me when he took you . ” he cried.

“Not your fault,” Sunny reassured. “I’d do it again...in a heartbeat,”

Violet nodded slowly in agreement.

The three siblings were tearing up as the Henchperson created the beginnings of a hole in the wall.

“Go time,” Sunny cried. “Escape now. Feelings later.”

“Agreed,” the two older siblings cried, although Violet sounded dizzier than Klaus.

Klaus picked up Sunny as Violet held the surgical tubing up so Klaus could spin himself and Sunny, effectively wrapping the tubing around the two siblings. He glanced towards Violet. “ We are going to survive...and find out what happened. We’ll find the survivor and either bring Olaf to jail...or kill him.”

“Down for murder,” Sunny cried.

“I...still...think if...we take...turns,” Violet protested frantically. “There’s a...better chance...that one of us...will survive.”

“All or nothing,” Sunny cried.

“We’re not leaving anyone behind,” Klaus said firmly. “ That’s what makes us different from Olaf and Esme.”

“ Ohana,” Sunny cried as she reached out and pulled the front of Violet’s hospital gown. The eldest orphan was still so limp that her minuscule effort succeeded and Violet now leaned on her and their brother. “ Just us,” she told Violet as Klaus wrapped a tight arm around both of his sisters as he slowly spun Violet around with them as he inched towards the window.

Violet didn’t fight. She didn’t struggle. She leaned in closer to her siblings feeling their warmth against her cold arms. “You’re right,” she said finally.

The hole in the door got even bigger as Violet shrieked.

“Don’t worry, Vi. We’re not leaving you behind again,” Klaus told her. Violet nodded as she did her best to wrap her arms tightly around her two younger siblings.

“I’ll...hold...on...to...you,” she explained.

“Same here,” Sunny cried as she wrapped her tiny arm around the arm that carried her and forced her tiny hand into her sister’s.

As Klaus carried his sisters to the window, he looked down once more, immediately regretting his decision. He glanced at the rubber band cord that Violet had him make and then at the surgical tubing he had tied it, too, and had now wrapped a good chunk of it around the three siblings.

“If it’s forty feet, we won’t make it.” He predicted.

“If it’s...say...maybe...thirty…,’ Violet began as she followed Klaus’ gaze down.

“We might,” Sunny shrugged.

The three children carefully made their way out of the window onto the small platform that lay alongside the window.

The huddled siblings barely fit on the ledge as the siblings looked down. This was at the same time as Olaf’s henchperson had successfully broken a hole in the door.

“Here I am, Nurse Lucafont.” the Henchperson called inside the empty supply closet. Utterly confused as to how the supply closet was empty. The children could hear the henchperson’s voice and look at one another nervously and then looked back down.

“I’m scared,” Violet admitted drowsily.

“I’m frightened,” Klaus cried.

“Sheer terror,” Sunny chimed.

As if they were thinking the exact same thing, each of the siblings gripped onto their two siblings as tight as they could. Violet managed to shout, “Hold on tight!” as the three siblings leaped out of the window of Heimlich Hospital.

STOP!

I am alone this evening, and I am alone because of several cruel twists of fate, a phrase which here means that nothing has happened the way I thought it should. Once I was a content individual, with a comfortable home, loving family that I loved very much, and a plethora of bedtime stories that were too strange to have been true...but...all of those things have been taken away from me, and now the only trace I have of those happy days are the photos I store in my pockets. As I sit in this very tiny room, printing these words with this very large pen, I feel as if our lives have been nothing but some dismal play, and that the playwright who invented these cruel twists of fate is somewhere far above me, laughing and laughing at their creation. This is not a pleasant way to feel, but this is how my story goes.

Now, despite my extensive research and my associate’s knowledge of abandoned VFD libraries, there are many things in this world that I do not know. I do not know how butterflies get out of their cocoons without damaging their wings. I do not know why anyone would boil vegetables when roasting them is tastier. I do not know how to make olive oil, and I do not know why dogs bark before an earthquake, and I do not know why some people voluntarily choose to climb mountains where it is freezing and difficult to breathe or live in the suburbs, where the coffee is watery and all of the houses look alike. I do not know why people start or join cults and I do not know how some people let revenge consume them to a highly unhealthy degree. I do not know how some people are brave enough to follow their passion in a world set out to destroy them. And I sadly, do not know how to stop the disastrous domino effect or fucked up twists of fates that seem to be plaguing several lives.

As such, I do not know where Violet Snicket or the Baudelaires are now, or if they are safe or if they are even still alive. But there are some things that I do know, thanks to the extensive research I’ve done investigating these cases, and one of them is that the window of the supply closet in the Ward for People with Nasty Rashes of Heimlich Hospital was not thirty or forty feet off the ground, as Klaus had guessed.

It’s twenty, which is exactly one foot higher than the length of the cord, so when the children leaped into the smoky air, clinging to each other for dear life, Violet’s invention worked perfectly. Like a yo-yo, the children bounced gently up and down, brushing their feet against one of the bushes planted in front of the hospital, and after a few bounces, Sunny released her grip on her siblings, although they kept theirs, and chewed through the elastic surgical tubing, biting through it just in time to smack Olaf’s henchperson in the face as they looked out the window. When the surgical tubing broke, Violet and Klaus fell the rest of the way to solid ground, Violet nearly toppling over. Klaus quickly put Sunny down and focused more of his attention and strength on Violet.

“We...made...it,” Violet cried.

“It was a close call,” Klaus agreed.

“But we survived,” Sunny argued.

The three siblings looked behind them at the hospital and saw just how close of a call it had been. The building looked like a fiery ghost, especially more so in a few places, with great bursts of flame coming from the windows, and oceans of smoke pouring from great gaping holes in the walls. The children could hear glass shattering as the windows burned away, and the crackle of wood as the floors began to fall through in some areas of the hospital. It occurred to the three children that their own homes must have looked like this on the day it burned down, and the three siblings stepped back from the burning building and huddled together as the air grew thick with ashes and smoke, obscuring the hospital from view.

“Where can we go?” Sunny asked.

“I don’t know. But any minute now someone’s bound to recognize us or realize that we’re not in the unfinished half of the hospital.” Klaus cried.

Klaus, with one hand holding Sunny’s and the other dragging Violet, began to walk away from the forming crowd. As more and more people pushed passed the children, rushing out of the hospital.

“Act casual,” Klaus told his sisters, noticing that Violet was adding more and more of her weight on to him.

“I’m...trying.;.”

Klaus glanced towards an empty ambulance. He tried to drag his sisters towards it in hopes of hot wiring it and driving far away from Olaf. But EMTs had beat him to it and began loading patients aboard.

“Keep your eyes open for those murderous brats!” one nurse yelled.

“I’ll find them. I know I will.” a volunteer fighting disease assured.

Klaus heard this and redirected himself and his sisters as he hurried behind a small half wall behind a few bushes in the front of the hospital. He was thankful for all the smoke in the air, it made this pitiful hiding place better.

“Stay down,” Klaus explained. “In The Encyclopedia of Escaping Arson, the author wrote that there’s more oxygen closer to the ground, so we can breathe more easily down here. But we need to get to some kind of shelter right away.”

Violet and Sunny scooted as close to Klaus as they could. Hoping to shrink themselves. Klaus and Violet both edged their heads up, Violet slowly beginning to focus better, as they gazed around for any way to escape. Klaus looked towards the left and Violet glanced towards the right, the smoky air was making it a bit difficult to see everything clearly.

“Where is there shelter?” Sunny asked. “Hospital is only building for miles.”

“...and it’s burning to the ground…” Klaus cried sadly.

“You!” a voice called out in the smoke. The three orphans froze. They did not freeze because a random passerby had recognized them and was pointing them out. They froze because the voice that had called out from the smoke was a voice all three siblings heard in their nightmares. Klaus gripped tightly to both of his sisters as Sunny let out a whimper and Violet let out a soft squeal as she and Klaus ducked their heads back down.

“He...didn’t...see...us, right?”

“I hope not,” Klaus cried.

The three children stayed as low as they could as they listened in on the madman’s rage.

“You!” Olaf called again, this time slamming his hand on the hood of his car. “Hooks for hands!” Olaf barked. “This way!”

The siblings breathed a quick sigh of relief, realizing that Olaf had not been referring to them but instead one of his henchpeople. With this newfound knowledge, Sunny slowly crawled over Klaus and Violet to etch her head around the edge of the half wall. Where only one eye could see Olaf while the other’s vision was obstructed.

Sunny watched a long, black shape emerge from the smoky air, and she could see it was an automobile, pulling up in front of the hospital. Not too far from the children. An automobile is somewhat like a shelter, but the siblings froze on the ground and dared not crawl an inch farther toward that car.

“Hurry up Esme!” Olaf yelled. “Hurry up! Or I’ll leave you behind!”

“We’re coming, darling!” Esme cried out as she hurried towards the car.

“Can you see the car in the smoke?” he asked.

“Yes, darling,” she replied. “Open the trunk I’ll throw the costumes in.” The three children held their breath as they listened to her odd footsteps as she walked right passed them, towards and around Olaf’s car.

“Oh, alright,” Olaf sighed, and Sunny watched in silence as the tall figure of her enemy stepped out of his vehicle.

“Wait up, Olaf!” the bald man yelled.

“You fool! I told you to call me Mattathias until we leave the hospital grounds!” Olaf growled as he opened the trunk. He watched as Esme threw the costumes in. He merely glared at her.

“What?”

He sighed angrily. “You lost my pet and the Baudelaires!” She opened her mouth to argue but he merely shook his head. “ But... it’s not only that! ” he yelled as he punched the roof of his car angrily. Esme rolled her eyes dismissively as she rounded the car and took her seat next to Olaf.

“You know this is horrific!” Esme whined. “We never found the sugar bowl after that stupid librarian told me it would be here!”

Olaf rolled his eyes at the mention of the sugar bowl.

“It’s worse than that,” he hissed.

“I know, and the bratty orphans escaped again,” Esme said rolling her eyes.

“Oh, it’s very, very worse than that,” he hissed in annoyance.

Esme looked to Olaf confused. Olaf slowly turned towards Esme as he took a deep breath, grasping the steering wheel tightly. “ There may be a survivor of a recent fire,” he hissed as her eyes widened, and then her expression shifted to match her fiery glare as she thought of the woman who had stolen everything from her.

“ Beatrice…!” Esme cried through gritted teeth.

Violet gasped as she heard sirens approaching. “The...police...and fire...fight...ers are here,”

“If they already thought we were murderous kidnappers, now they’ll think we’re all arsonists.” Klaus reasoned. “We need an escape,”

“Do...you...do you trust...me?” Violet asked after a moment of staring hard at Olaf’s trunk. The trunk was opened to where Violet could see that the lid of the trunk was peppered with tiny holes, bullet holes, it looked like, undoubtedly from being pursued by the police.

“...yeah?” Klaus answered back hesitantly. It was no lie that he trusted Violet with his life but her asking worried him for a number of reasons.

Violet leaned as close as she could to her siblings so she could whisper to them without being heard. “We’ve...got...to go in...there,” she said.

“Where?” Klaus whispered in reply.

“We... need to get...in O-Olaf’s...tr-trunk,” Violet reasoned.

“ Wha?!” Sunny shrieked in a horrified whisper.

“Are you still that high off the knock out drugs?” Klaus asked as he and Sunny glanced at one another in disbelief as if there was no way Violet had suggested for the three siblings to voluntarily stuff themselves into Olaf’s trunk.

“Oh yeah,” Violet said giggling. She placed her hand in Klaus’ hair. “You’ve got...rainbow... hair.” She gently slapped Klaus’ face. “Like...a clown,”

“I can’t tell if you’re joking or serious,” Klaus replied in an annoyed tone.

“Doesn’t....matter. But that’s not...the point. We...have to avoid...getting cap...tured,” she said, her eyes rolling back slightly in her head. “and...find out...who the...survivor...is.”

“Getting in that trunk is getting captured!” Klaus argued.

Olaf took a deep breath and then glanced at one of his henchmen who stood outside of the car, looking around aimlessly. “Get in this car this instant! I’m leaving on the count of three! It’s been splendid setting this fire, but we’ve got to hunt down a certain...survivor...before those brats do!”

“Or VFD,” Esme added. “You know, the real VFD full of hypocrites, not those idiotic singers!”

“Just one second, boss. We’re waiting for Ainsley,” the Hook-Handed Man explained.

“I’m not going to wait around to find out if that fool lived or died!” Olaf yelled. “One!”

The Hook-Handed man tapped his hook worriedly on the roof of his boss’ car as he gazed around. Violet unknowingly lifted her head a bit until she felt as though the henchman had seen her and she ducked down worriedly.

“Y-you said you...trusted me,” Violet whined.

“I’d rather die than get into that fucker’s trunk!” Klaus hissed.

“Don’t you want to...bring him to justice?” Violet asked. “Don’t you...wanna find the...survivor? And clear...our names?”

Klaus looked to his sister, frowning. “Of course, I do. But I don’t want to die before we can!”

“No, no,” Sunny cried as she shook her head. “Been there...done that.”

Violet frowned as she placed her hands in her siblings and she held their hands as firmly as she could, to the point where it hurt to hang on to them. “Think of... everything... we survived together, ” she whispered, looking from her burdened brother to her scared sister. “We’ve lived through countless...unfortunate events...only to find ourselves... alone. ”

“Just us,” Sunny reminded her.

“I know…” Violet replied, smiling at Sunny. “But if one of...our parents...survived. It’ll all be worthwhile!” She released her grip on her siblings. “We have to find them...if it’s the last thing we do.”

Sunny sighed as she gazed at the gaping trunk, which looked like the mouth of some dark and smoky beast, eager to devour her and her siblings. As it had once devoured her and her friends, Duncan and Isadora Quagmire, not too long ago. But she knew her big sister was right and she trusted Violet to get her and her siblings out of danger, not in it. “You’re right,” Sunny murmured finally. “Getting in that trunk is our only hope.”

Violet smiled as she looked towards Klaus, who merely shook her head defiantly. “You’re right. You’re right about all of that. But I’m sorry, I’m not getting into that trunk.”

“Klaus...come on,” Sunny pleaded.

“What choice do we have?” Violet asked. “Trust me...I wish we had another escape...but we don’t, Klaus.”

“Violet, I am not getting in that trunk and there’s nothing you can do to convince me otherwise,” Klaus folded his arms across his chest. “You aren’t thinking straight, obviously. So I guess I’ll think of something.”

“ Two!” They heard Olaf shout to his henchpeople as the Hook-Handed Man smiled and rushed Ainsley into their boss’ car.

Klaus continued to shake his head at the sound of Olaf’s voice.

Violet rolled her eyes, tapped her finger on her chin deep in thought. She glanced at Sunny and a wicked smile grew on her face. “I...know..how to get...you in that trunk,”

“What did I just say?” Klaus asked. “I’m not getting in…” he began before Violet stood up shakily, picking up Sunny in the process and running stealthily towards Olaf’s trunk.

“No, you did not just…” Klaus cried angrily. “Dammit, Violet!” he hissed following her quickly, continuing to look behind the siblings to make sure that no one was following them.

Violet stumbled as she reached the trunk. She fell to the ground, shielding Sunny from the pavement. “Whoopsie,” she whispered.

Klaus catches up to his sisters and merely glares at Violet as the three crawl a few more inches to the trunk. “Of all the dirty handed tricks you could pull…” he started, in a hushed whisper.

“It got you over here...didn’t it?” Violet asked as she opened Olaf’s trunk slowly. The children ducked down low as the trunk lid stayed opening welcoming them inside with a damp, terrible odor that had Violet having second thoughts.

Violet stumbled awkwardly as she tried to maneuver herself into Olaf’s trunk while still kneeling down. “Give me a hand, please,” Violet begged her brother. Klaus sighed as he reluctantly helped Violet into the trunk.

“We’ll be able to breathe, right?” Sunny asked, worriedly as Violet rolled as far as she could allowing her brother and sister room. Violet felt her knee slam against something but she didn’t pay it any attention as she felt the shuffling of Olaf’s troupe member trying to get situated in the back seat.

“Yes,” Klaus whispered as he picked up Sunny. “Air will come through the bullet holes,” he explained to his baby sister as he laid her atop of their big sister. The second Sunny was laying down on Violet, she began to squirm and shake as if she were having a panic attack. Klaus frowned as he glanced down at Violet, who merely frowned back. Violet hastily unclasped her locket and handed it to Sunny.

“Sometimes when I’m scared…” Violet admitted. “The only thing that calms...me down. Is our Mama.” Violet shakily moved her hands to open the locket but she was having slight difficulties. Sunny reached up and opened the locket for her. Both sisters gazed up at the picture of their mother, smiling down on them.

Klaus sighed as he grabbed hold of the trunk. “This is not the sort of shelter I had in mind,” he said begrudgingly. “But...I guess it might do.”

“It’ll have to do,” Violet whispered to him. And with that, the middle orphan maneuvered himself inside his enemy’s trunk, beside his older sister.

“ Three!!” Olaf shouted as Violet simultaneously closed the trunk just as the bald man slammed the passenger back side door shut. Once Violet had closed the trunk, the siblings were left in utter darkness, and their shelter rattled and shook as Olaf started the engine and began to drive across the landscape, which was as flat and desolate as ever. But the children could not see outside, of course. In the blackness of the trunk, they could not see anything at all. Sunny whimpered and handed Violet back her locket.

“We’re right here, Sunshine,” Klaus whispered, trying to hide the fact that he, too, was terrified. They could only hear their long, shivering breaths as the air rushed through the bullet holes, and feel their shoulders tremble as they shivered in fear.

Klaus pulled Sunny a bit towards him so that she was now laying on both him and Violet and not squishing Violet entirely. Violet’s head rolled around as Olaf drove.

“Here,” Klaus whispered, prompting for Violet to lift her head. He placed his arm underneath his sister’s head giving her some comfort as Sunny grabbed onto Violet’s hand. Violet snuggled closer to her siblings still high on the anesthetic.

“You...guys came back...for me,” she cried, tears flowing.

“That’s what siblings do,” Sunny explained.

“You’re our sister,” Klaus agreed.

“Where to next, boss?’ the children could hear the Hook-Handed man ask.

“How the fuck would I know!?” Olaf yelled as he reached outside his window to remove a flyer that was obstructing his vision. “I’m not…”

He stopped once he read the flyer. “...a fortune teller. But I know who is,” he said wickedly as he began to laugh maniacally.

The children shifted slightly when Olaf slammed his foot on the gas. The three siblings huddled together as tightly as they could. Both Violet and Klaus held one of Sunny’s tiny hands. Both older siblings could feel their sister tremble as she laid on them inside Olaf’s trunk. They knew that she was having flashbacks of her time in captivity with the Quagmires. They were trying to do all they could to relax her.

As the three gazed outside the bullet holes of Olaf’s car, it was as if they were stargazing, although the siblings were all falling victim to their thoughts. Klaus sighed, breaking the silence.

“I guess...we’re still on the lam,” he whispered.

“We’re alive and...we’re together,” Violet countered.

Sunny held on tightly to her siblings’ hands trying to stay calm and not freak out that she had once again found herself inside Olaf’s trunk. The bitter stench was bringing back memories that Sunny would rather stay buried away from her psyche. She knew circumstances were slightly different, this time. She wasn’t forced into the trunk against her will, she had been persuaded by her elder sister to voluntarily enter the trunk. She had her siblings and she knew they would never let anyone hurt her and the biggest difference is that Olaf and Esme had no idea that she and her siblings were hitching a ride in his trunk.

Klaus’ eyes slowly began to fall as he slightly shifted. He was exhausted in more ways than one. But as he felt Violet shift her head slightly on his arm and Sunny grip tighter to his hand, he knew it was what he had to do. He didn’t know exactly what had happened to his sister during her time in Olaf’s clutches and he was scared that she might not know the answer and it pained him to know that Olaf was the only person that could give his sister closure on that topic. He sighed as quietly as he could. He wasn’t the happiest about how Violet convinced him to get into Olaf’s trunk but he would have to deal with it. Klaus was fighting the urge to sleep because he refused to be asleep if the children were discovered and he wouldn’t be able to fight for his sisters. He felt like he’s failed them so many times already, that he needs to step up his game and be there more for them. That’s what he vowed to do for his sisters and whoever the survivor was.

Violet held onto Sunny’s arm as she began to silently sob. She was still scared that they were now in the trunk of the man who wants to do nothing but harm them. She was still contemplating everything that had happened to her or what she suspected happened. Violet was unsure of a lot of things right now and how close she was to her siblings was one of them. In her head, Olaf and Esme’s words ring endlessly on a tiresome loop that was continually driving Violet insane. Violet still had huge insecurities but she was starting to doubt a few of her insecurities.

If what they said was true...Klaus had every chance to take Sunny and run...but they stayed. They rescued me. He kept himself and his sister in danger to save me . Why didn’t he take Sunny and run? She pondered to herself. She desperately hoped, Maybe just maybe Olaf was wrong and Klaus did see her as a sister, not just a protector.

Violet sighed, still coming down from the amount of anesthetic Olaf had administered to her. “What’s...that stanza...again?” she asked hastily.

“What?” Klaus whispered back, confused. His eyes were closed as if he had lost his fight against sleep.

“The Snicket lad?” Sunny whispered in the softest of whispers, terrified to see what Olaf would do if he heard the name ‘Snicket’ and then opened his trunk to find one and two Baudelaires.

Violet nodded. “You know...you guys are gonna love him,” she replied in a whisper.

Klaus and Sunny looked at one another both knowing what their sister meant. Although both younger siblings had different predictions when it comes to the survivor, they allowed Violet the courtesy of being able to freely share hers.

“If you drive away in secret,” Klaus whispered. “You’ll be a volunteer,”

“So don’t scream,” sunny whispered.

“When we take you…” Violet whispered.

“ The world is quiet here…” the three siblings recited simultaneously as they held on tighter to each other.

It was not the sort of shelter the children had in mind, never in their entire lives, but as they huddled as close together as they could, they guessed it might do. For these three orphans, if indeed they were still orphans, the shelter of Count Olaf’s trunk would have to do, until something better came along.

[violetsystems]

#personal

I ended the week in a very different financial state than what I’ve been used to.  To talk about stocks anymore on this blog would further pivot my move from musician to late night financial pundit.  I’m more of an amateur economist myself.  I’ve used the auction house in World of Warcraft enough to be dangerous.   But really there’s much more to the story than investing or job hunting.  More so my ambivalence to feeling completely invisible in the process.  Of course there are tons of jobs out there.  I found a Department of Defense job in Information Security.  The fine print being that males had to be registered for selective service.  I often like to remind myself and the government that I’m a registered Conscientious Objector.  My parents were tired of military recruiters hounding me in high school as was I.  I wrote a statement and filed it with a local church at the time in the presence of pastor.  I’m not extremely a fan of organized religion at all.  But this specific instance was about peace above all else.  One of my only contacts on LinkedIn was someone I managed years ago as a student worker.  They just so happen to work for such a job.  It is ironic as it is disheartening.  And as I scan and participate on LinkedIn as more of a social media platform than a headhunting site it becomes painfully apparent.  There are a lot of jobs out there but not a lot that respect my value as a human being outside of human capital.  The most important thing about the platform has been knowing what I’m worth.  The salary estimates are on point for the times.  I was undervalued at my old place of employment.  As of last week, the years of debt accrued trying to network overseas was finally paid off.  I tried everything to get away from this situation.  I played shows in Tokyo.  I travelled alone to Korea and China.  I connected with my extended family in Hong Kong.   And nothing else in terms of opportunities materialized.  Years later as I send the final payments to zero out the balances, it seems like it never happened.  You would think a person like myself would have a place to go from here.  And largely I do right now.  Sitting at my new laptop writing these as always.  Wrapping my brain around the tax law unique to my particular situation.  Listening to the news and realizing nobody really cares about me or my predicament.  Awaiting the final puzzle piece to my old life come September.  Wondering what really happened to all the shit in my old office.  Wondering if I really care at all about any of it anymore as the voice over my headphones announces the horrible truth.  That we’re about to get pummeled violently by a well known streamer and the developer of the game we are playing.  For a company that was at my doorstep a day ago inquiring about an uptick in package theft.  If I really needed a job right now I’d just ask if they were hiring.

The grand spoiler alert of my life at the moment is that I do not need a job right now.  My life is a work in progress.  One that I haven’t really lived or been allowed to live without constant critique.  Truth be told I have never had the opportunity to be back at zero.  There are things that are stable in my life that don’t really have a numerical value on the time investment.  I’m not on any social media here to look for a job.  But stranger things have happened.  I am out there and searchable.  Just not on anything like Facebook.  My bandcamp lately has been generating sales out of nowhere.  Nothing substantial.  But if people really wanted to find me they could.  The internet is a special place if you stay accountable.  The real world is far from that.  And I’ve spent a considerable amount of time lately in the real world navigating the change in my life.  There is a lot of cognitive dissonance when I think about my own value.  The way everything blinked out and disappeared is still puzzling.  I had no warning.  Or I was so antisocial that people were afraid to drop hints.  People drop hints all the time that I’m expected to read into.  Those are far easier to read now that it’s just me.  Part of being employable is that you are a valuable addition to an organization.  When you spend twenty years of your life growing to be just that it is a little jarring to realize you weren’t.  These days I’m very fearful of just being looked at as another productive body to slide into place.  Much of what I understand of salaried employment now is horrifying especially when it comes to working for a non profit.  You do get stability.  And some of the grandfathered benefits I reaped upon exit are unheard of in modern times.  A pension being one of them.  How someone like me deals with these unique circumstances is unprecedented.  Nobody has any advice for me.  Nobody even acknowledges I have a situation.  I always feel like people are just assuming I’d be ok without even knowing what I’ve done.  That’s a lot of mental baggage to sort through even beyond the finances.  The good news is I don’t really get depressed about it.  I feel free.  Free enough to start planning things out comfortably.  Free enough to wait for the job opportunity that values me instead of freaking out and taking the first thing.  Free enough to evaluate how much money I need to make versus how much money the job hunting site tells me I should be making.  Free enough to just sit here and opt out.  Pay my health insurance premiums and keep the future open for awhile.  Play games and enjoy them.  Ride my bike and lower my blood pressure.  Spend less money without thinking.  Plan where and when money is available in the future.  Be an adult and enjoy it for once without having to defend myself.  At the same time being just as vigilant and unstoppable as I always am effortlessly.  Because I no longer really worry about what my job, the community, society, or the internet thinks.  And I see the value of myself and my money beyond the American dream of freedom it seems that I’ve been exiled from.

It is a mindfuck for sure.  Like maybe the last three years over the course of time were too.  But what I still have is worth more to me than any history or resolution.  I just cut loose.  Five weeks later I’m sitting in a very different state of mind on paper.  My credit score went up.  I can lucidly explain my financial liquidity and plans for the next six months to a year if worst comes to worse.  But really the thing I can’t answer is this.  Why after all of this time am I so invisible outside of these small pockets of hope on the internet?  Why am I even bothering taking a conventional approach to my future other than my own logic?  One week I’m down.  The next week I’m up.  The next a little higher.  I start to think to myself when I look in the mirror.  I feel better about myself.  I feel sexier without having to project it.  I can imagine things outside of the box I was trapped in.  And there’s no real judgement as to why I stayed so long.  The end result was that twenty years was time to move on.  And while no one had the answers for me it all worked out.  The time spent with a financial advisor worth much more than sitting down with a therapist.  But what does it really mean for me?  When will I have my revenge!  When will I have my justice?  I mean I thought I already had it.  I never lost the things I cared about.  They just got amplified.  Nobody needs to know how deep it goes.  But everyone knows what motivates me deep inside my heart without me even having to say it.  I feel comfortable around people.  I’m open to talk and be present.  I’m not locked in a defensive posture fearing the inevitable.  I lost my job.  It will never be replaced.  The position is gone completely.  Nobody really remembers me or the position it seems at all.  And this isn’t something we should revisit five weeks later after my suffering in complete isolation outside of video games, tumblr and my secret desires.  Honestly I’m far more happy to be where I am now.  I can actually see a clear path to where I need to be.  And all I ever wanted to be was connected to people like myself.  We all desire that to varying degrees.  And after years of typing it out here I believe people understand me.  And it has become far more than that.  It’s special enough that it follows me wherever I go in my heart and out in the streets.  And it’s still a delicate balance that requires me to think for myself and maintain my identity above all.  That’s the freedom I have for myself.  The freedom I want to share with another person I love someday.  And that’s the freedom I’ve built up around me that isn’t beholden to anyone but me now.  Until I get hired by either TikTok, Microsoft, or Amazon.  Self employed taxes are the only nightmare I’m subjecting myself to for the rest of this year.  That and being on the wrong team in Closed Beta.  I’m on the right team in terms of keeping a secret.  It’s not a secret I care very much about all of you.  You particularly as always.  And I’d be more worried if I somehow jeopardized that future.  Which is still bright ass pink as far as the eye can see.  So I’ll be ok.  <3 Tim

[thebiasrekkers]

Way To You - 2

Plot: Knocked from his routine, Taehyung finds himself discovering [or is it remembering?] the reality of his situation. It’s especially disturbing since his Wife has been acting rather strange.

Rating: M // NSFW

Genre: dystopian! au/dystopian themes | angst |  smut | fluff if you squint

Pairing: Kim Taehyung x Female OC (Tempest Estrellado)

Warnings: Strong language, interracial relationship, mentions of drugs, blood, main character injury, implied smut 

Word Count: 1,488

AN: This hot mess has 3 parts. Please enjoy and thank you for loving all that we do © thebiasrekkers (Admin T). All rights reserved. Reposting/modifying our work is prohibited. Translations are not allowed. Plagiarism/stealing is not tolerated by any means. Legal action will be taken in instances of theft.

Links: FAQ || BTS Masterlist || [ REQUESTS ARE OPEN ]

--

9 am

“Mr. Kim, you seem to be unwell.” Tempest frowned as she pressed the back of her hand against his forehead. “Have you eaten?” He felt himself leaning into the coolness of her palm. There was a brow arch as she watched him. “Mr. Kim? Did you eat?” 

Tae blinked sleepily as he straightened himself. The meeting happened earlier in order for him to retreat back to his office. “N-no. I wound up losing track of time. I had something small and coffee. I apologize for concerning you.” He let his chest expand on an inhale. “I’ll be alright, Ms. Estrellado.” 

She lowered her hands just as the door swung open.

“Taehyung!” The voice sounded upset, but April paused as Tempest and Taehyung turned toward her. What was that look just now? He tilted his head as April seemed to shift her demeanor. “I-I was concerned about you. It was apparent you hadn’t been home.” She moved over toward him as Tempest took a step back. 

There was a look that lingered too long for Tempest’s liking from the woman, who was obviously Taehyung’s wife. “I take it your Ms. Estrellado?” April spoke cooly as she let her fingers dance along his shoulder.

Tempest tilted her head politely. “I am. I was just asking Mr. Kim if he had eaten. I was going to suggest that he should go home to rest.” There was a darkness to April’s eyes as she watched the other woman. Tempest clasped her hands in front of her, nonplussed by the other woman’s focus. 

“I think that’s a good idea, Taehyung.” She turned to him placing a warm hand on his cheek. A wave of nausea hit that had him pulling away from April. 

“M’fine, I just need t-to..” He swayed. Tempest was under his arm before April realized he stumbled. 

“Mr. Kim, I’m afraid I’m going to have to order you to go home.” He tensed at the word order. The Medical personnel held more power than even the military. The Medical personnel was responsible for keeping balance. For keeping the maintenance of The System which allowed the Council power and prestige. 

If someone was called unwell by Medical staff? It was a dire situation. Life was too precious, too important to waste. April glared as Taehyung leaned too heavily on the other woman. She cleared her throat getting under Taehyung’s other arm. “I can take it from here.” She offered a tight smile as Taehyung’s weight transferred. 

“Of course, Mrs. Kim.” Tempest stepped aside. 

“Thank you, Tempest.” Taehyung murmured quietly as he gathered his things. April gave him a stern look that caused him to compose himself before stepping out of the office. Tempest gave a short nod before leaving before them.

11:17 am

“Do you know how embarrassing that was?” April’s voice cut the thick silence in the elevator. Taehyung said nothing as the bell rang to announce their floor. He was tired, his head hurt and all April could do? All she had been doing  - was bitching. 

He waved his keyfob in front of their door. 

“Taehyung, are you listening to me?” April followed him inside as he hung his jacket and bag. The shirt shrugged off his frame, causing her to tilt her head. Why hadn’t she noticed it before? It was as if he had somehow filled out? There was something enticing about him in this state. 

It was so close to that time before. When he was so lively and full of fight. April bit into her bottom lip as she admonished the train of thought. He ran his fingers through his hair as he opened the fridge. He guzzled a bottle of water turning to the hand outstretched next to him.

“You need to take your vitamins and rest, Taehyung. You know you get thrown off if you don’t keep up your regimen.” April held out a small pack of pills. And for the first time in years, he hesitated before taking them. 

“April, I’ll be fine. You have work to do.” He emptied the packet into his mouth followed by vigorous guzzling of water. “I assure you I can handle myself alone.” He arched a brow as April seemed pleased by his compliance. She sighed letting a hand settle against his cheek. 

“Rest. Eat. I’ll be home in the morning. Hopefully, before you leave.” A slight smile before she spun on her heel to leave. He waited for the door to click shut. He waited for the distant ring of the elevator bell. 

Then he turned to the kitchen sink and was violently sick. 

The pills, undigested, floating in bile and a swirl of water as he washed them down the drain.

1:30 pm

“Why is it so hot?” He’d been sweating profusely. His fingers dug into the hem of his t-shirt as he peeled it off. It landed on the floor with a wet plop as he made his way to the shower. The water squeaked on as he dropped the last of his work clothes to the floor. The cool water pelted his skin for much-needed relief. It was strange to think that he’d never really taken a long shower before this moment. He adjusted the heat to wash his hair. 

Taehyung squeezed his eyes shut as the lather slid down his face. 

“You should let me wash your back, querido.” 

A voice echoed in the bathroom - or was it in his head? His eyes popped open too quickly, blurring at the shampoo irritant filling his gaze. It was as if something flickered in front of him. He saw a body, a form  - a voice that sounded so familiar. But they were dreams, right? 

He felt fingers pushing the wet hair back from his face. A body pressed against his and those leonine eyes snagging his soul again. 

“What is it, mi amor?” She purred quietly, concern written across delicate features. He felt his hands on her body, so real. 

He suddenly felt a burn in the pit of his stomach at her proximity. His body knew hers, responded to hers, wanted her. But, that’s impossible? These urges were a thing of the past. It was against protocols. These emotions, these sensations had been done away with. Yet, here he was in the shower - with a woman, not his wife. And he was on fire. 

Taehyung spun in a circle shaking the soap from his eyes. He blinked rapidly as his fingers dug into pectoral space above his heart. He let the thundering of the shower pound against his head. Both hands were used to push wet strands of hair from his face. He reached behind his shoulder to make sure he was rinsed clean. 

“Huh..” He tilted his head as he felt a small scar in the middle of his back. 

He grabbed a towel as the handles squeaked into the off position. Taehyung frowned as he rubbed the condensation on his mirror. He turned to get a look at the scars. 

Scars? Scars?? How had he never remembered these?! How had he never looked at his body’s reflection? His eyes grew wide as he took in the scattered warzone of his back. His hands gripped the sink as he felt the weight of something pressing against the front of his skull.

I promise I’ll find you. Don’t die.  

He shook his head again, stumbling out of the bathroom. Taehyung didn’t understand the fatigue suddenly falling over him. He collapsed atop his bed, towel still wrapped around his waist, an arm across his forehead. 

Taehyung. 

He murmured something, half asleep. A voice that set his soul on fire. A voice that spread color through his world. A voice - that didn’t belong to April.

Taehyung sighed softly, nuzzling into the phantom fingers that caressed his face. 

“..I promised.” He murmured sleepily. “...kept my promise.” 

A body settled on the edge of his bed as he entered deep sleep. 

A pair of glossy leonine eyes watched him until he was finally resting comfortably.

“...And I kept my promise too, querido.” Tempest watched his chest rise and fall for a few minutes before she stood. “Just a little longer. You’re almost there.” She brushed her lips against his forehead. 

9:30 pm

It’s the first dreamless sleep he’s had in some months now. There was a scent in the room that had him reaching for his face. Did he get up and change clothes? He stared down at the sweats and t-shirt. 

He reached for the glass of water at his bedside, draining it quickly. The glass hung between his fingers as the heel of his palm pushed into his eye socket.

9:45 pm

“Taehyung, I’m home to check on you.” April’s voice echoed from the front of the house.

For some reason, for the first time that he can remember - the sound of her voice - causes him to frown.

[letstalksymphogear]

Symphogear, EP. 6

Last Time on Grand Theft Auto:

Tsubasa recovers from the world’s gayest coma as Hibiki trains her mind while putting aside such silly concepts as “the love of my life” and “literally being with my girlfriend.” After cooling Miku’s paranoia with her brand new washboard abs, Genjuro prepares the team for a pizza run across the city to deliver a dangerously hot pizza pie named Durandal. Chaos emerges as the delivery is intercepted by a rival pizza gang, lead by the nefarious Gremlin known as Yukine Chris. But, before the pizza could be claimed, dedicated pizza deliverywoman Hibiki not only steals it back, but eats it, harnessing the power of the pizza and unleashing cheesy pasta based chaos around the location.

Ryoko is so into it that she taps into her superpowers and protects Hibiki after she passes out. The delivery is considered a failure, and no tip is given.

And so, the journey continues...

Meanwhile, in this weird, tricked out mansion...

Chris meditates on some water metaphors of her own.

“that pacman colored freak took only touching it to activate a cheap ass french sword that gave her weird demon powers and its taken me YEARS to use this dumb stripper outfit and the funny cane that goes with it, what the FUCK man, what even is my life”

“maybe... maybe honeybaked hams ARE that powerful...”

“NO! turkey is the superior meat! it’s healthier, lower in fat, and way more tasty! fuck you! i’ll get my goddamned revenge!”

Chris begins musing about Fine’s motivations to capture Hibiki; during these, we’re treated to some brief image flashbacks of Chris’s life.

Suddenly, those jokes about food are a lot less funny.

It doesn’t take a genius to put two and two together as to why this young woman is helping a strange nudist dominatrix spread alien terror across the city of mumblednoises, Japan. She doesn’t really have many an option on the table. It’s either help the weird kinkster with her plans, or die.

Despite everything, she has a high opinion of Fine, for the same reasons someone might have a high opinion of a television show if it were the only show they were ever exposed to. She is deeply afraid of being alone again, because she has lived through such misery that the very thought of existing out in the cold again terrifies the shit out of her.

The Sun rises casually amidst Chris’s thoughts.

“ah shit. it just hit me. i literally have spent the entire night standing here instead of actually going the fuck to sleep. goddamnit.”

On such a devious metaphorical twist, Fine stands behind her as the Sun rises.

“yeah, jokes on you. i couldnt sleep for shit either. turns out, all nude, no blankets? in japan? real bad idea.”

“thats why i decided to GO GOTH, babey! whattaya think? do i give those witchy vibes, huh? real ‘black magic woman’ santana hours? feeling cute, gonna head out with the girls and summon satan in the woods kinda aesthetic looking shit? come on, be real with me. does this not look baller?”

“you look like morticia decided to go to the grocery store to buy some wonder bread, but other than that, its a step up from your usual pussy out attitude, so sure”

“you know i decided to get some brain cells on loan from Brain Cells R Us, and ive been thinking this solomon cane stuff is solomon lame. i dont need this dumb oversized harry potter cosplay prop to get shit done. also, murder is... sorta bad? im still trying to get the brain cell stuff down.”

“i can punch just as good as goody two shoes if not better.”

“lol go do it then champ, im gonna go cut down a forest of trees now”

And so, they both just kinda... stand there.

“QUACK, NEXT SCENE, QUACK”

Meanwhile, Tsubasa is rapidly trying to rehabilitate herself from her wounds like walking like a madman, her IV drip presumably filled with Taco Bell brand Doritos Locos Tacos super spicy nacho cheese. Taco Bell: Live Mas.

“im gonna clear every fucking taco bell in your goddamned memory, kanade”

“think outside the bun! wait, what? that was a taco bell slogan? ah fuck it, im dead. what nerd’s gonna try and correct me?”

“i would, kanade. i am that nerd.”

Tsubasa is hell bent to try and understand Kanade’s simple philosophy of helping others selflessly. Unfortunately, when Kanade died, she took all the brain cells between them in the process, so coming to this epiphany is a work in progress.

“listen its a fucking miracle you are 1. alive and 2. able to have your blood run on the garbage melted plastic taco bell tries to dupe people into believing is cheese so why dont you just lie down and think of better franchises to eat from”

“no! you dont understand! taco bell is a franchise of the PEOPLE! their meals are cheap and filling and- and the chicken quesadillas are of good quality for their price! i promised kanade- my vow to the death. taco bell... ergh... now and forever... i-”

“wait. my gay senses are tingling.”

It’s Hibiki, probably running track with Miku.

“oh yeah... her... i should probably apologize to her. about trying to kill her. and then letting her almost be kidnapped. and just giving her a general hard time about something that wasn’t explained to her in the slightest for months. she’s a good bean.”

Tsubasa proceeds to never canonically apologize to Hibiki throughout the entirety of all 4 seasons of Symphogear.

Look at em run. See, it’s a metaphor, because they haven’t communicated yet and they’re running from their problems! But they’re running towards Tsubasa, who is part of the representative problem these two share! Clearly literary genius.

It’s like someone went halfway into writing an NTR plotline and went “maybe this isn’t a good idea to market our songs on.”

Hibiki is still thinking about her Hellshake Yano moment with Durandal. Mainly how she nearly killed someone with it. Hibiki is very starkly in the “killing is bad, and wrong” camp of morality, a trait currently unique to her that she’ll wind up teaching literally everyone else she meets one way or another.

Some could argue the L stands for Lydian, and they’re wrong. It stands for Lesbian.

“that was one hell of a run, hibiki! im pooped! why dont we go to the locker room and call it a day, have a nice shower and just get some dinn-”

“this is the last straw.

i clean your plates. i cook your food. we eat, shit, shower, and sleep in the same FUCKING area, and this is how you repay me? huh? you think being your wife is easy shit, hibiki? half the damn time you’re running off like clark kent having food poisoning and the other half ive gotta babysit you, the emotional equivalent of a preteen clown, to make sure your life doesn’t self destruct harder than Atlantis sinking into the ocean. im done! i am DONE. im reopening my tinder, im slamming my ass BACK into okcupid, and im gonna date some CUTE ACADEMY GIRLS that treat me BETTER than this ABSOLUTE BETRAYAL OF HEART AND IM NOT CRYING I SWEAR ITS JUST THE SWEAT IN MY EYES AND HIBIKI HOW COULD YOU-”

“oh yeah, sure! hey, lemme just do a few more laps, ive just been feeling judgmental about myself and my figure, you know? gotta push myself further...”

“o-oh yeah, sure. no worries, ill wait for you. love you too, hibiki...”

The girls bathe together, as good friends typically do.

“hey you ever notice the showers here have like, weird psuedo-luxurious minipools to bathe in? like, how rich is this school?”

“whoever made this place is either rich or a pervert. or both, probably!”

Miku remarks that Hibiki has changed since she’s entered Lydian, in a manner most unheterosexual.

“oh FUCK you really DO have washboard abs now! ohhh my god.”

“damn, those abs were heavenly. let’s get pancakes later.”

I won’t screenshot it but something to note is that they actually wear each other’s corresponding underwear colors (or even, if you want to examine more closely, each other’s underwear). Here’s an equivalent scene to give you the mental image.

This is the face of someone who knows what they want and already have it. Such is the power of Kohinata Miku.

Meanwhile, Genjuro comes back from the funeral of the guy the Americans filled violently and with impunity.

“yo that all black look looks baller. i should borrow that look... id look pretty gothy in it.”

“ryoko i sympathize with your sharp, fashionista eye but this was for a funeral, i was paying my respects to the dead. thats the usual dress code.”

“didnt know they updated that. i remember back in my day, we just went in white garments and chanted in latin!”

“shit was fire. literally. lots of funeral pyres.”

“lmao ryoko buddy your larping sessions arent actual history”

“hey dont shit on larping around me. i used to be a professional larper while i was majoring in acting. helped really sell my career when i had to pretend to slay the Dark Lord Jyarloen atop the mountain of skulls in Hargobor after my family was killed by the Dark Army. asshole.”

“haha yeah, larping, thats cool yeah, i do that

i...

i larp.”

“oh yeah? you wanna join my larping session sometime then? we’re gonna do an ancient babylon plot thats inspired by some anime, itll be fun”

“.....................................im super into realism.”

“i know im dressed for a funeral but id like to not part ways with my dignity yet. besides, we’ve got serious shit to talk about. basically, we’re on the verge of getting shitcanned.”

As it turns out, the death of this politician removed the last obstacle of opposition to maintain the 2nd Division, as the average criticism against the 2nd Division is “why are we funding this mystery division when we don’t know what they do”. Of course, the sensible idea for an organization that defeats the Noise is to declassify it, given people of different jobs and positions have physically seen the Symphogear in action, but you know. “Oh no, the other governments will come after us” stick gets shaken.

“im in a union. i know my rights. you’re not taking my acting job here away from me.”

“im not going back to be a preschool teacher. its been ten year. the bites on my ankles still havent healed...”

“yeah man, shit sucks ass. i cant fund my adoption habits if im fired.”

Look at these cinematic parallels. Symphogear truly is a franchise made by someone living in 3030.

“worst part is the new minister is super into america. he’s a... westaboo.”

“a westaboo?”

“westaboo?”

“did he just unironically say westaboo”

“he said westaboo. oh my god. this is the hell timeline.”

“i mean people kept calling me that for worshipping all these fighting flicks so i guess it fit? i dont see the problem here”

Meanwhile, in Lydian Academy...

“so it hit me, right? we’re ALL girls. and we ALL sing. now, humor me a moment. what if... what if we’ve all been recruited to potentially be superheroes... through our singing? like, there’s no coincidence that all this shit happens around us, right? and a famous singer LIVES here? i saw the black cars outside! weird shit is happening here- im not even gonna eat the all you can eat bar anymore!”

“kathy there is literally no such thing as superheroes who sing. this place is more likely to be a organ harvesting op than whatever madness you’re saying”

“what? you need me, a singing superhero, to go stop a problem happening underneath the school, a location meant to recruit young women into potentially becoming fellow crime fighting singers?”

“yeah im too busy poppin’ caps in asses so go kick ass in my place”

“sure!”

“.....................................who ya talkin to, hibiki?”

“the boss! gotta go do a thing again...”

“hibiki, i dont like the fact that capitalism is tearing us apart.”

“you’ve gotta join me in the revolution, hibiki. you. me. luxury automated gay space communism. aint it the dream? share my vision, hibiki. its glorious.”

“n... no...? no gay space communism today? well, what about tomorrow? or the next day? or... maybe the next day? baby steps, you say? but, direction action, hibiki! we’ve gotta strike now!”

“it’s okay hibiki. when i take over the world and destroy all first world government leaders, and unite the globe in my encompassing reign and love... ill make sure to spare you, and be my bride to be.”

“thanks miku. im just not ready yet for the globe to burn in an unending ball of fire as the continents fuse into a new utopia composed of our combined wills. also, ive really gotta go, its genuinely an emergency.”

“for the cause!”

“yes hibiki... for the cause...”

Admittedly, you can see the stages of grief Miku goes through when she sees Hibiki say she can’t join her for pancakes. It’s sad. This side story sucks.

Meanwhile, as it turns out, the problem Hibiki needed to resolve was checking on Tsubasa to see if she hadn’t dissolved into Taco Bell brand hot n’ spicy Tabasco sauce.

“god, cant believe taco bell was closed. now i gotta deliver these lame ass flowers”

“cant wait to get threatened again. wonder what she’ll say. ‘hibiki, i should have killed you when i had the chance.’ or ‘you’re so goddamned weak. i could break your spine with my fingernail’, or some other stuff about metaphors. oh, my stops here”

“HEY BITCH WHATS GOOD-”

“HOLY SHIT”

“you are already”

“dead.”

[darknytemare]

Way To You - 2

Plot: Knocked from his routine, Taehyung finds himself discovering [or is it remembering?] the reality of his situation. It’s especially disturbing since his Wife has been acting rather strange.

Rating: M // NSFW

Genre: dystopian! au/dystopian themes | angst |  smut | fluff if you squint

Pairing: Kim Taehyung x Female OC (Tempest Estrellado)

Warnings: Strong language, interracial relationship, mentions of drugs, blood, main character injury, implied smut

Word Count: 1,488

AN: This hot mess has 3 parts. Please enjoy and thank you for loving all that we do © thebiasrekkers (Admin T). All rights reserved. Reposting/modifying our work is prohibited. Translations are not allowed. Plagiarism/stealing is not tolerated by any means. Legal action will be taken in instances of theft.

Links: FAQ || BTS Masterlist || [ REQUESTS ARE OPEN ]

--

9 am

“Mr. Kim, you seem to be unwell.” Tempest frowned as she pressed the back of her hand against his forehead. “Have you eaten?” He felt himself leaning into the coolness of her palm. There was a brow arch as she watched him. “Mr. Kim? Did you eat?”

Tae blinked sleepily as he straightened himself. The meeting happened earlier in order for him to retreat back to his office. “N-no. I wound up losing track of time. I had something small and coffee. I apologize for concerning you.” He let his chest expand on an inhale. “I’ll be alright, Ms. Estrellado.”

She lowered her hands just as the door swung open.

“Taehyung!” The voice sounded upset, but April paused as Tempest and Taehyung turned toward her. What was that look just now? He tilted his head as April seemed to shift her demeanor. “I-I was concerned about you. It was apparent you hadn’t been home.” She moved over toward him as Tempest took a step back.

There was a look that lingered too long for Tempest’s liking from the woman, who was obviously Taehyung’s wife. “I take it your Ms. Estrellado?” April spoke cooly as she let her fingers dance along his shoulder.

Tempest tilted her head politely. “I am. I was just asking Mr. Kim if he had eaten. I was going to suggest that he should go home to rest.” There was a darkness to April’s eyes as she watched the other woman. Tempest clasped her hands in front of her, nonplussed by the other woman’s focus.

“I think that’s a good idea, Taehyung.” She turned to him placing a warm hand on his cheek. A wave of nausea hit that had him pulling away from April.

“M’fine, I just need t-to..” He swayed. Tempest was under his arm before April realized he stumbled.

“Mr. Kim, I’m afraid I’m going to have to order you to go home.” He tensed at the word order. The Medical personnel held more power than even the military. The Medical personnel was responsible for keeping balance. For keeping the maintenance of The System which allowed the Council power and prestige.

If someone was called unwell by Medical staff? It was a dire situation. Life was too precious, too important to waste. April glared as Taehyung leaned too heavily on the other woman. She cleared her throat getting under Taehyung’s other arm. “I can take it from here.” She offered a tight smile as Taehyung’s weight transferred.

“Of course, Mrs. Kim.” Tempest stepped aside.

“Thank you, Tempest.” Taehyung murmured quietly as he gathered his things. April gave him a stern look that caused him to compose himself before stepping out of the office. Tempest gave a short nod before leaving before them.

11:17 am

“Do you know how embarrassing that was?” April’s voice cut the thick silence in the elevator. Taehyung said nothing as the bell rang to announce their floor. He was tired, his head hurt and all April could do? All she had been doing  - was bitching.

He waved his keyfob in front of their door.

“Taehyung, are you listening to me?” April followed him inside as he hung his jacket and bag. The shirt shrugged off his frame, causing her to tilt her head. Why hadn’t she noticed it before? It was as if he had somehow filled out? There was something enticing about him in this state.

It was so close to that time before. When he was so lively and full of fight. April bit into her bottom lip as she admonished the train of thought. He ran his fingers through his hair as he opened the fridge. He guzzled a bottle of water turning to the hand outstretched next to him.

“You need to take your vitamins and rest, Taehyung. You know you get thrown off if you don’t keep up your regimen.” April held out a small pack of pills. And for the first time in years, he hesitated before taking them.

“April, I’ll be fine. You have work to do.” He emptied the packet into his mouth followed by vigorous guzzling of water. “I assure you I can handle myself alone.” He arched a brow as April seemed pleased by his compliance. She sighed letting a hand settle against his cheek.

“Rest. Eat. I’ll be home in the morning. Hopefully, before you leave.” A slight smile before she spun on her heel to leave. He waited for the door to click shut. He waited for the distant ring of the elevator bell.

Then he turned to the kitchen sink and was violently sick.

The pills, undigested, floating in bile and a swirl of water as he washed them down the drain.

1:30 pm

“Why is it so hot?” He’d been sweating profusely. His fingers dug into the hem of his t-shirt as he peeled it off. It landed on the floor with a wet plop as he made his way to the shower. The water squeaked on as he dropped the last of his work clothes to the floor. The cool water pelted his skin for much-needed relief. It was strange to think that he’d never really taken a long shower before this moment. He adjusted the heat to wash his hair.

Taehyung squeezed his eyes shut as the lather slid down his face.

“You should let me wash your back, querido.”

A voice echoed in the bathroom - or was it in his head? His eyes popped open too quickly, blurring at the shampoo irritant filling his gaze. It was as if something flickered in front of him. He saw a body, a form  - a voice that sounded so familiar. But they were dreams, right?

He felt fingers pushing the wet hair back from his face. A body pressed against his and those leonine eyes snagging his soul again.

“What is it, mi amor?” She purred quietly, concern written across delicate features. He felt his hands on her body, so real.

He suddenly felt a burn in the pit of his stomach at her proximity. His body knew hers, responded to hers, wanted her. But, that’s impossible? These urges were a thing of the past. It was against protocols. These emotions, these sensations had been done away with. Yet, here he was in the shower - with a woman, not his wife. And he was on fire.

Taehyung spun in a circle shaking the soap from his eyes. He blinked rapidly as his fingers dug into pectoral space above his heart. He let the thundering of the shower pound against his head. Both hands were used to push wet strands of hair from his face. He reached behind his shoulder to make sure he was rinsed clean.

“Huh..” He tilted his head as he felt a small scar in the middle of his back.

He grabbed a towel as the handles squeaked into the off position. Taehyung frowned as he rubbed the condensation on his mirror. He turned to get a look at the scars.

Scars? Scars?? How had he never remembered these?! How had he never looked at his body’s reflection? His eyes grew wide as he took in the scattered warzone of his back. His hands gripped the sink as he felt the weight of something pressing against the front of his skull.

I promise I’ll find you. Don’t die.  

He shook his head again, stumbling out of the bathroom. Taehyung didn’t understand the fatigue suddenly falling over him. He collapsed atop his bed, towel still wrapped around his waist, an arm across his forehead.

Taehyung.

He murmured something, half asleep. A voice that set his soul on fire. A voice that spread color through his world. A voice - that didn’t belong to April.

Taehyung sighed softly, nuzzling into the phantom fingers that caressed his face.

“..I promised.” He murmured sleepily. “...kept my promise.”

A body settled on the edge of his bed as he entered deep sleep.

A pair of glossy leonine eyes watched him until he was finally resting comfortably.

“...And I kept my promise too, querido.” Tempest watched his chest rise and fall for a few minutes before she stood. “Just a little longer. You’re almost there.” She brushed her lips against his forehead.

9:30 pm

It’s the first dreamless sleep he’s had in some months now. There was a scent in the room that had him reaching for his face. Did he get up and change clothes? He stared down at the sweats and t-shirt.

He reached for the glass of water at his bedside, draining it quickly. The glass hung between his fingers as the heel of his palm pushed into his eye socket.

9:45 pm

“Taehyung, I’m home to check on you.” April’s voice echoed from the front of the house.

For some reason, for the first time that he can remember - the sound of her voice - causes him to frown.

[ask-the-cordium-crew]

the kahn and the colonel hidden love (A WKTC story)

Once again, happy second anniversary to who killed markiplier! I hope you enjoy the story, everyone! warning: grammar and punctuation aren’t the best 

William got of Fluffy as he reached the home of the White Fang leader Sienna Khan a ruthless dangerous Faunus who wanted more respect for Faunus even if it meant the humans would fear her just thinking about her drove him crazy oh what a woman! William thought to himself.

William told Fluffy to go back to the atlas base they were currently staying at. This caused Fluffy to snarl a bit.

“Oh, don’t give me that attitude, you big baby, you know it’s risky enough for me to be here can’t have anyone noticing you around here. It’s easy to tell you aren’t a normal beowolf alpha.”

Fluffy grunted and put his nose up against William’s hand he softly sighed and pet his beowolf alpha softly before Fluffy ran back off to base now William was alone he gulped a small bit and carefully wiped the sweat from his head these visits always got him nervous was he afraid of her? Heavens no! He was worried for another reason he soon pulled on the straps of his overalls and knocked on the door, smiling gently. 

Soon the door was kicked open and the woman came out kicking William he did a backflip and jumped in the air firing his gun at her using one of his diamond bullets he then quickly landed on the ground as she backflipped over him and whipped him he smirked and laughed like a madman spinning around violently this confused her but soon she started flying in circles as he spun around quite fast he soon made her lose her grip and go flying pulling the whip off himself and whipping her in return before throwing it back to her.

Sienna grabbed her whip and looked at him for a few seconds before laughing a bit and putting her weapon away he also put his gun away and laughed they both walked up to each other and carefully hugged each other.

“Oh William, you never cease to surprise me; it’s good to see you glad to see you were more prepared, unlike last time.” 

William wiped a tear from his face and smiled widely after he stepped back from her and then held the door open so she can go inside first.

“WELL IF YOUR GONNA FIGHT ME EVERY TIME I SHOW UP MIGHT AS WELL BE PREPARED! HA HA HA... It's good to see you, Sienna dear, how have you been? always nice to see your lovely face.”

She softly snorted and went inside soon he followed, and they closed the door soon they were both sat down at the kitchen table drinking tea. 

“Now now we can get to... Personal time after the meeting, you're lucky I was able to get everyone out of here for the day.”

William smiled and soon sighed, sipping his tea and soon bit a chunk out of a dust crystal. 

“Oh your *crunch* right hmm well the white fang activity currently is a little out of hand but despite that the kingdom of vale at least most of it the store's, bars and restaurants will let Faunus into their establishments but weapon searches are required of everyone now before entering any sort of store or place that sells dust not just the *crunch* Faunus humans are also inspected for weapons you can thank my friend Damien for that he was able to work out a deal with me to make that happen.” 

Before they continued, William burped up some fire into the air before continuing to crunch on his dust crystal, a red dust crystal. Of course, at this point, his mouth has gotten used to the pain of the fire, so it doesn’t affect him anymore.

Sienna listened carefully she was glad the white fang and the Faunus had an ally like William who has power and powerful friends though she wasn’t just using him to help Faunus get more rights she liked him for a lot more than that he was charming quite handsome very kind and sweet plus unlike most people she enjoyed how crazy he can get.

“Oh thank you so much William this helps us so much, and I promise I’ll try and help figure out a solution to all the dust theft problems, hmm there are still a few places that have problems with us Faunus and I know you're trying your best to allow us into atlas and deal with those places” 

Will soon finished his dust and drank some more of his tea, carefully wiping his mouth with a napkin before he continued to speak.

“Hmm most places outside of vale are harder to get to and well yes I am trying my best to allow Faunus into places like atlas now ironwood is more understanding, but the schnees are the more significant problem they pretty much run atlas, but I promise one day Faunus and humans will be at complete peace Faunus will be given the same exact rights as a human now I can’t completely stop the racism but I can make sure Faunus aren’t prevented from doing things humans can live just because of their differences.”

William sighed gently and looked away. 

“Faunus don’t deserve this they honestly don’t hell I am pretty sure most people don’t like Faunus is because they are better than us in some regards sometimes even smarter than any old human hmm... even if I think Faunus are better I do believe we all deserve equal rights.” 

“WELL! Anyway, I am finished with my tea and dust. I’ll go wash my dishes is there anything else we need to talk about Sienna dear?” 

Sienna smiled gently and finished her tea and gave him the dishes.

“No, we discussed all that we need to for this month, William. Thank you and oh, thanks for washing the dishes for me. I’ll go wait on the couch. It’s movie night my turn to pick.” 

William's eyes turned pink and sparkled as he quickly went to the kitchen and started to wash dishes everything in the sink glimmering with glee he loved movie night. 

He made him and her a martini in a very large glass for them to share with a pink umbrella and 2 olives he also made them a big bowl of popcorn to share he soon enough returned to her and lied down on the couch she cuddled up close to him and put on some cheesy romantic movie for them to watch she knew he loved cheesy movies and well she liked watching romance, so this movie was perfect for them both. 

He carefully rubbed her head, petting her ears as well playing with them as he fed her and himself some popcorn she smiled but then sighed.

“I wish we didn’t need to hide our relationship William; it just feels wrong to do so.”

He put down the drink and looked away, sighing as well.

“Yes, it does feel wrong to hide it. I’d love to take you out to dinner and bring you home, but neither of our people would understand our feelings one day we will be together properly, I promise.” 

She sniffled a bit but didn’t cry she rarely ever cried she just softly smiled and cuddled close to him

“Thank you, William.”

they then spent the rest of the night together too bad they wouldn’t be happy like this forever. 

[thattay]

My Favourite Albums and Games of the 2010s

ALBUMS 100. Revolution Radio - Green Day 99. Modern Vampires of the City - Vampire Weekend 98. Good Kid M.A.A.D City - Kendrick Lamar 97. Pure Heroine - Lorde 96. Black Messiah – D’Angelo and the Vanguard 95. Let’s Rock – The Black Keys 94. Harmonicraft – Torche 93. Treats – Sleigh Bells 92. Sempiternal – Bring Me The Horizon 91. Painted Shut – Hop Along 90. No One Ever Really Dies – N.E.R.D 89. Tranquility Base Hotel + Casino – Arctic Monkeys 88. Lonerism – Tame Impala 87. Malibu – Anderson Paak. 86. Boarding House Reach – Jack White 85. Greatest Hits – Remo Drive 84. Help Us Stranger – The Raconteurs 83. Infest the Rats Nest – King Gizzard and the Lizard Wizard 82. Vessel – Twenty One Pilots 81. FM – Vince Staples 80. The Hurry and the Harm – City and Colour 79. Trouble Will Find Me – The National 78. I Am Easy to Find – The National 77. Afraid of Heights - Wavves 76. Jake Bugg – Jake Bugg 75. Arizona Baby – Kevin Abstract 74. I Think You Think Too Much Of Me - EDEN 73. Harry Styles – Harry Styles 72. Strange Desire – Bleachers 71. Here and Nowhere Else – Cloud Nothings 70. The Balcony – Catfish and the Bottlemen 69. Lemonade – Beyonce 68. Flower Boy – Tyler the Creator 67. Morbid Stuff - Pup 66. Meliora – Ghost 65. Cuz I Love You - Lizzo 64. Beauty Behind the Madness – The Weeknd 63. Some Nights – Fun. 62. The 1975 – The 1975 61. V - Wavves 60. Picture Show – Neon Trees 59. Little Dark Age – MGMT 58. When We All Fall Asleep Where Do We Go – Billie Eilish 57. + - Ed Sheeran 56. Hungry Ghost – Violent Soho 55. Lost in the Dream – The War on Drugs 54. Watch The Throne – Kanye West & Jay Z 53. Hurry Up We’re Dreaming – M83 52. Home, Like No Place Is There – The Hotelier 51. Run the Jewels 2 – Run the Jewels 50. Trench  – Twenty One Pilots 49. IGOR – Tyler the Creator 48. Gone Now - Bleachers 47. Every Open Eye - Chvrches 46. FIDLAR - FIDLAR 45. El Camino – The Black Keys 44. The Physical World – Death From Above 1979 43. Ye – Kanye West 42. Saturation 3 – Brockhampton 41. Blurry Face – Twenty One Pilots 40. Run the Jewels 3 – Run The Jewels 39. Death of a Bachelor – Panic! At The Disco 38. Megalithic Symphony – AWOLNATION 37. Attack on Memory – Cloud Nothings 36. Starboy – The Weeknd 35. Too – FIDLAR 34. 21 – Adele 33. Ginger – Brockhampton 32. Damn. – Kendrick Lamar 31. Splendour and Misery – clipping. 30. Emotion – Carly Rae Jepsen 29.  Channel Orange – Frank Ocean 28. Brothers – The Black Keys 27. Melodrama - Lorde 26. Plastic Beach – Gorillaz 25. Blowout  - The So So Glos 24. Prequelle - Ghost 23. Colouring Book – Chance the Rapper 22. Kids See Ghosts – Kids See Ghosts 21. …Like Clockwork – Queens of the Stone Age 20. Blunderbuss – Jack White 19. A Brief Enquiry Into Online Relationships – The 1975 18. Blonde – Frank Ocean 17. Habits – Neon Trees 16. Because the Internet – Childish Gambino 15. There Existed an Addiction to Blood – clipping. 14. Go Farther in Lightness – Gang of Youths 13. AM – Arctic Monkeys 12. Pony – Rex Orange County 11. To Pimp a Butterfly – Kendrick Lamar 10. Blackstar – David Bowie 9. Transgender Dysphoria Blues – Against Me! 8. Yeezus – Kanye West 7. Awaken My Love – Childish Gambino 6. Random Access Memories – Daft Punk 5. Suck It and See – Arctic Monkeys 4. Iridescence – Brockhampton 3. Danger Days – My Chemical Romance 2. Celebration Rock - Japandroids 1. My Beautiful Dark Twisted Fantasy – Kanye West GAMES  50. Rainbow Six Siege 49. Batman Arkham Knight 48. Dragon Age Inquisition 47. Bastion 46. Heavy Rain 45. Luigi’s Mansion 3 44. Assassin’s Creed 3 43. Inside 42. LA Noire 41. Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild 40. Battlefield 3 39. Until Dawn 38. Control 37. Doom  36. Modern Warfare 35. Valiant Hearts 34. Return of the Obra Dinn 33. Firewatch 32. Cities Skylines 31. Alien Isolation 30. Skyrim 29. Cuphead 28. Assassin’s Creed Origins 27. Outlast 2 26. Telltale’s The Walking Dead 25. Uncharted 4: A Thief’s End 24. The Witcher 3: Wild Hunt 23. Assassin’s Creed Black Flag 22. Dishonored 21. Horizon Zero Dawn 20. Death Stranding 19. Rocket League 18. Overwatch 17. Super Smash Bros Ultimate 16. Spider-Man 15. God of War 14. PT 13. Grand Theft Auto V 12. Portal 2 11. Batman Arkham City 10. Papers Please 9. Hotline Miami 8. Red Dead Redemption 7. Minecraft 6. Super Mario Odyssey 5. The Last of Us 4. Outer Wilds 3. Red Dead Redemption 2 2. The Last Guardian 1. Bioshock Infinite