#beatrice sighs a lot but can you blame her?

[infinite-hearteyes]

Bedtime Stories --- Chapter 8

On their eighth day in Switzerland, Ava found a stray kitten.

“He looked so hungry, Bea,” she emphasised, “and when I called him he came right over and he jumped up in my lap! I couldn’t just leave him there.”

Beatrice silently takes in the sight before her.

Ava, lying on her back on the floor of the apartment, with a tiny black kitten sitting on her stomach. 

[michaelasworlds-blog]

Daddy’s Girl (A Hazbin OC Fanfic)

~~~~~~

Ch. 6: My True Love

~~~~~~

🚨TRIGGER WARNING: THIS CHAPTER CONTAINS MENTIONS OF MENTAL ABUSE🚨

The (Dialogue from “Fawning for You” Chapter 9 by @nkirukaj )

Voe: “You’re not stupid,”

Alastor: “How do you know?”

Voe: “Because if you were stupid then- never mind!”

Alastor: “No! Go on! Say it! If I was stupid then what? Hmm? Hmm?” He steps closer with each sentence

Voe: “Then I wouldn’t love you!”

Alastor: “…What?”

Voe: “If you were stupid I wouldn’t be in love with you,” she looks down at the ground with tears dripping out of her eyes.

Bean had listened to the two talk, the conversation went from anger to sadness to what she could guess was contentment? She was curious, wondering how Voe knew she was in love. Was it so easy to just love him again? How can she love him again after they broke up? Maybe she never stopped loving him…

It was all so confusing to Bean, she was shown love in a lot of ways. Through pain, lust, anger, and humiliation. She made her way back to her room, laying on Barktholomew; who was laying in the middle of her bed. “I love you Barktholomew, do you love me?” She buried her face in his fur, the dog groaned in response making her smile.

“You always know what to say.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Earth, January 1st, 1973

After 13 hours of labor he was finally here- well she.

Beatrice Gertie Matten, was born on the 1st of the new year weighing 7lbs. Her skin was light brown and had brown hair to match. She smelled like fresh laundry but then again it could just be the pink blanket she was wrapped in. She slightly opened her eyes looking up at her mother.

Eugenia smiled at her baby, grabbing her finger. When she got pregnant she had loathed the thought of being a mother, it's not anything she planned for; but Eugenia was willing to give motherhood a try.

“Hi,” she whispered to her daughter. She wished Donnie could be here, his parents wanted him at some New Years benefit. It was fine, Eugenia liked it just being them. This was true love. Her and her little bit of light.

Eugenia starts to sing “You Are My Sunshine” by Jimmie Davis quietly to Beatrice, who was examining her surroundings.

(Eugenia)

You are my sunshine

My only sunshine

You make me happy

When skies are gray

You'll never know, dear

How much I love you

Please don't take, my sunshine away

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Eugenia played with apple stress ball on her desk, she had so many regrets but first she needed to tell Bean about Donnie; he could be anywhere doing anything to-

The desk bell being rung startled her, Voe was standing there, “Hi,” she waved.

“Hey,” Eugenia gave her a small smile.

“Whatcha thinkin about?” The doe asked.

“What?” She was confused, nothing was even said about thinking, she was but still.

“You looked like you were in deep thought.”

“Just- nothing,” Eugenia sighed, deciding not to burden anyone with her problems.

There’s awkward silence for a few seconds, “Can I ask a question?” Voe leaned on the desk.

“Sure.”

“Have you ever been in love?”

The question shocked Eugenia, why was she asking this? She hoped she hadn’t given Voe the wrong impression. “Um..I suppose I have, she’s not really speaking to me at the moment.”

“Ooo,” Voe smirked. “Girlfriend huh?”

“No no! Sorry I meant my daughter, I love my daughter; she’s been my one and only, we didn’t get along much,” Eugenia smiled to herself, thinking about Bean. When she held her for the first time, when she got her first period..

“Oh! I was talking about relationship wise, but I didn’t know you were a mother,” She was shocked. “Is she still alive?”

“No she died years before I did,” Eugenia looked sad. “I blame myself, even now.”

Voe pouted, she didn’t really know how to react to that; of course it was sad she just couldn’t relate. “Sorry.”

“No I’m sorry,” The sinner sighed, smiling sadly. “So, you and Alastor? Back together huh?”

Voe mouth was opened in a perfect circle “shocked”, “How did you know that?!”

“These walls aren’t so thick, and the Angel boy put it on the internet,” Eugenia laughed. “I have also had that type of love too by the way, thinking I found the one,” her small bit of sadness turned to fright, “I thought he loved me but he was obsessed with me; it was..scary.”

“Men,” Voe rolled her eyes.

“Yeah..” She gave her a small smile.

“Thank you by the way, for ya know helping with the theater, the grand opening was a success; wish you were there.”

“I’m sorry..Alastor told me not to come,”Eugenia played with her hair.

Voe raised an eyebrow, “Really? I’ll have to have a chat with him.” She turned to leave but turned back around, “Just saying, I know that parents are a huge factor in a kid’s life you should also consider other things that could’ve happened to them in their lifetime.”

Eugenia’s eyes widened, she smiled; “Thanks.” Voe gave her a thumbs up before leaving.

It all made sense, she couldn’t have been to blame; she was only trying to protect her daughter. But there was always someone who got in her way..

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“I’m sorry my love but what would you like me to do about him?” Ruby shrugged, sewing the other half of Donnie’s mask.

“Please..” A small wasp demon was on her knees begging. “Val will stop at nothing to get me back, he’s threatened my life..I’m scared.”

Ruby sighed, placing the mask aside, “Fine,” a parchment paper appeared in her hands. “Sign.”

The sinner immediately took the pen, signing her name. Ruby went back to the mask when the club door slammed open.

“You!” Eugenia stormed in. Ruby rolled her eyes, she thought she got rid of her. “You’re the reason my daughter hates me!” She got in her face.

Ruby looked around the room and even behind her, Who had she been talking to? “Excuse me?” She raised an eyebrow.

“My daughter?! Bean?! You latched onto her soul like some fucking parasite! Then ruined her and my life!” Eugenia continued.

The overlord started laughing, “Are you talking about yourself?!” The workers in the club looked at the two sinners, “You come into my place! That I own and tell me that I fucked up your daughter! If anyone fucked up here life it was you and your perverted husband.”

Eugenia stepped up to Ruby, “Stay away from my kid,” she threatened. She didn’t know what she’d do, but she just wanted to seem intimidating.

A grin spread across Ruby’s face, “Or what?” The women stared at each other. Eugenia stood down, there was no way of protecting Bean if she was dead; she left looking over her shoulder at Ruby who was still smiling.

Once Eugenia was gone Ruby dropped her smile, running her temples. Donnie walked up behind her standing beside her, “How did you ever put up with that woman?” She handed him his mask.

He snatched it, putting it on, “It’s called true love, you wouldn’t know what that is, you never had it,” he laughed. “Ugh! It is way better to talk with a full mask.”

“Now you need to keep your end of the bargain, which shouldn’t be hard; you need to keep Bean safe from him.”

“How exactly am I supposed to do that?” Donnie crossed his arms. “I haven’t seen him in years, I didn’t even know the guy died until you told me.”

“Well that’s why you need to be where your daughter is, wherever she is..”

“That’s where he’ll be.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Bean sat in the circle next to Erin on one side while random sinners sat on the other side, she felt as though she was losing pieces of herself; like the body she was in was becoming a stranger to her. Who was this? Was this the same girl that used to collect beanie babies? Who was she? What was she?-

“Hey everyone!” Charlie stood in the middle of the circle, getting everyone’s attention. “It’s time for ‘Suggestion Box Saturday’! Where I pull out topics that one of you lovely people suggested to talk about,” she clapped.

Some sinners clapped while others stayed silent. “Okay.. today’s topic is…” the princess does a drumroll, “Species Memories?” She looked at the card with confusion.

“It’s supposed to say ‘Special Memories’,” Eric spoke up.

“You wrote that?” Angel smirked at him.

“You can’t spell ‘special’?” Cherri tried to keep from laughing.

“Uh..no, I was just using context clues,” Eric scoffed, obviously lying.

Everyone looked at each other knowing he was full of shit, “Anyway..who’s first? Who has a special memory they’d like to share?” No one said anything.

“Eric! How about you? Since this is obviously yours,” Vaggie put her hands on her hips.

“OH! Wait!” Charlie took a small duck out of her pocket and threw it to him. “When you’re done, you throw it to someone else.”

“Uh..cool?” He looked at the duck. “Um well I guess a-

“Guess who’s a fiancé bitch!!” Voe practically jumped into the circle. “Oh, what are we doing?” She looked around, realizing she interrupted something.

“Well..we were doing an activity but- oh my gosh!! Alastor proposed?!” Charlie squealed.

“Well I did,” Voe shrugged, flattered by the attention.

“Awe!! This is gonna be such a great memory someday,” Charlie hugged the doe.

“I guess, I never really thought about it,” Voe sat down next to Casper. “Is that what we’re talking about? Memories?”

Charlie nodded, “Who wants to go next?”

“Well actually I was-”

“I’ll go,” Eric was interrupted by Bean. Charlie sat down smiling with wide eyes, everyone stared waiting for her, “I remember getting into this dance class, my stepdad got together enough money and helped my mom pay for it.” She smiled to herself.

“Awe.. how sweet..” Charlie clapped along with the other sinners.

“Whatever, my memory was cooler,” Eric mumbled.

They all thanked her for sharing before moving onto the next person, Bean started going back into her empty head. Or wherever the real her was. The memory wasn’t actually a happy memory, but she didn’t want Charlie to think that she was too far gone for redemption. Would she get kicked out if she didn’t get redeemed? What if she got redeemed? What would she do? Did she even want this? What about Vox? Did he even believe in redemption? Would he get redeemed for her?

Bean sighed, putting her head in her leg, “Is something wrong Bean?” She heard a voice ask, looking up she saw everyone looking at her.

“I- I just…I lied,” Bean said embarrassed. “I don’t have any happy memories..sorry,” before anyone could say anything she got up and left.

She went upstairs to see Alastor’s radio station, to talk to him; or to at least alone. But instead Gigi was in there looking through records, “What are you doing?” Bean asked, walking inside cautiously, honestly she’d been in here more times when Alastor was here.

“Alastor wanted me to look for wedding songs, I guess?” Gigi shrugged tossing a record aside.

“Can I help- OH MY GOSH!” Bean gasped. “He has Verosika Mayday?!” She got excited just looking at the vinyl. Where’d he get this? She thought he wasn’t into; as he called it, “This generation’s garbage”.

“Who’s that?” Gigi asked.

“Who’s that?! Only the icon of my entire existence! She was literally my gay awakening with her song, “Dance with My Lips!” Ugh! I’m gonna cry!” Bean held the disc to her chest.

“Hold on? You’re gay?” The older sinner asked. There was so much she didn’t know about her daughter. She wanted to know more.

“Well pansexual, but I guess you can say gay as the umbrella word,” Bean said looking through other records.

The two continued looking through the music piles, Gigi had advised looking for slow songs, but Bean kept either picking up Pop artists or Rock artists. She was having a hard time keeping her on track, but she loved every minute she got to spend with her.

“This is nice,” the younger demon smiled.

“Looking through dirty vinyls?” Gigi laughed.

“No, just doing this, talking about nothing and just I don’t bring here,” Bean shrugged. “I couldn’t talk to my mom like I’m talking to you- not that I’m calling you a mother or anything! I guess you just give that vibe.”

“I totally get it,” Gigi smiled warmly. “But have you ever thought that maybe you mom had a lot going on? Maybe she was struggling.” She wanted to give her side, hopefully Bean would let her in.

Bean scoffed, “Right. Then why didn’t she say anything?”

Gigi shrugged, “Maybe she felt weak.”

“She felt weak? After the shit I went through, SHE’S the weak one?!” Bean stood up, raising her voice.

Gigi was startled by her reaction, “I’m sorry maybe-”

“No no tell me, was she struggling when she ripped up the check I was going to use for dance class? Was she struggling when she screamed at me for complaining about her husband wanted me and not her?!” Bean screamed. She felt like she was losing her mind, who did this woman think she was? “So please, tell me how my mother struggled?!”

“I’m sorry..” was all she could say, it was what she wanted to say, but as her mother and not a hotel attendant.

“I have to go,” Bean left the station, slamming the door.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“I think there’s something wrong with me,” Bean broke the silence. She was laying in Vox’s bed staring up at the ceiling, while he was on his phone.

“Oh yeah?” He was partially paying attention. “Why is that?”

“I feel like my mind created a duplicate of me, someone to take care of life for me, but in order to do that it’s taking pieces off of the real me; now I don’t know who I am anymore…” Every word that came out of her mouth made her feel crazier and crazier.

Vox turned to look at her, she was obviously under a lot of stress, “Do you know what this is called my dear?”

“Proof that I’m failing even in my afterlife?” She looked at him blankly.

“No, it’s the early stages of female hysteria,” he booped her on the nose.

Bean sat up offended, “Huh?!” She tilted her head.

He nodded, “Yeah, you see it happens when a female starts becoming taken over by their emotions-”

“Please stop talking,” Bean begged him. “I don’t think you know what you’re talking about.”

“Darling, I went to college.”

“So did I.”

“Huh? How bout that,” Vox put his hand on his chin. “Anyway, I have the perfect solution; better than what they used to do.”

“Oh yeah? You gonna give me a lobotomy Mr. Mansplaining?” She rolled her eyes.

Vox was annoyed, turning her face to his, “Just look at me.” He started using his hypnotic powers.

She turned from his grasp, covering her face; “NO NO! STOP!”

He stopped, confused, “I’m trying to help you Bean.”

“Not like that,” her face was still covered. “I don’t like that.”

“Fine geez,” Vox took her hands from her face. “What do you want me to do?”

“For one, don’t EVER do that to me,” she sighed.

“Fine whatever,” he rolled his eyes.

“Promise?”

“I promise.”

Bean smiled, Vox liked when she smiled; he couldn’t stand to see her upset. It made him feel weird, like he had to do something about her sadness.

“Anything else?” He asked.

“This is a question,” she became serious.

“Okay.”

“Do you love me?”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Eugenia was staring at a magazine, coming from her room. She had been on her break for who knows how long and decided to return to her desk, she had to admit magazines down here were pretty interesting. “How to take care of your demon child?” And “What to expect when you’re NOT expecting??” The desk bell ringing caught her attention, “Coming!” Eugenia closed the magazine, rushing to her desk.

The bell continued to ring, “I said I was-” the demon at her desk made her freeze in place.

He turned to her smirking, “Hey Gigi, you miss me?”

Donnie said.

(Hey! Hey! Almost didn’t make it a week lol! Yay 🎊 Anyway, as you know Voe is @nkirukaj ‘s OC , the line at the beginning is taken from the sequel story to her series “Deer Tingz” Also I don’t think I’ll be putting anymore lyrics in chapters, I don’t know yet lol I might get too obsessed 🫠 Hope you like it and see you next week!)

[flourgirl]

Hooked On A Feeling

Pairing: Peter Parker x telepath!Reader

Summary: When another competitor at the quiz bowl championships confronts you about using your telepathic powers to cheat your way to victory, you immediately recognize him as Spiderman.

Word Count: 1.6k

Warnings: Fluffy flirting and one sorta-curse word.

A/N: This was originally going to be the first part of a series, but my friend and I thought this ended on a good note after I wasn’t feeling it. Enjoy! :-)

“If you would open up your heart Drop your weapons, drop your guard Just a little trust is all it takes” -Give a Little, Maggie Rogers

You had twenty minutes until the final round of the competition and excused yourself from your team’s mini celebration to go get a drink from the vending machine in the hallway.

“Hey, wait,” you heard a voice call out to you. You turned to see a guy from the team that you had just beat walking towards you. “I know what you’re up to.”

You had to admit, he was really cute, even if he didn’t know which woodwind plays the glissando at the beginning of ‘Rhapsody in Blue’. But this was nothing like your daydreams of how he’d introduce himself. You didn’t have to read his mind to tell that he was pissed off.

“And what is it that I’m up to? Thinking about what drink to buy?” you said, playing dumb, even though you knew exactly why he was walking towards you.

“You’re a telepath,” he whispered, leaning against the vending machine. It only took you a few seconds to realize who the boy standing next to you actually was and how he knew about your secret.

“Okay, you got me,” you laughed, twisting open the bottle of lemonade that he definitely did not see you pay for. “And you’re Spiderman. But I have to admit, you’re not at all what I expected.”

“And, uh… what did you expect?” Peter was flustered. Sure, you could read his mind and find out who he was, but had you actually been thinking about who was behind the mask this entire time?

“You look taller in the photos,” you shrugged, despite the fact that he could still easily look straight over your head without a problem. It was just fun to tease him.

He felt his cheeks turning pinker by the second. “Well, you don’t look like a cheater, so I guess we’re even.”

“I’m not cheating, Peter,” you replied nonchalantly, taking another sip of your drink.

He hadn’t even told you his name, but he liked the way it sounded coming from you. Peter’s eyes looked down at your lips, quickly darting back up before you could notice, but based on his thoughts, you had a few good guesses about what had just distracted him.

“Don’t lie to me. I could tell that you were reading my mind, and every time I went to hit the buzzer, you were always one step ahead of me,” Peter reasoned, becoming increasingly frustrated knowing that you could read every thought that was going on in his head right now. “I… I have spidey-senses.”

Your eyebrow cocked up, and you smiled at the silly phrase he had just used.

“Spidey-senses?” you questioned, making his eyes widen over the sudden realization that it sounded like a five-year-old had coined the nickname he had given to his powers. It was all getting to be a bit too much for him.

“Look, could you please stop for a minute? I feel like I can’t breathe with you inside my head, alright?” he snapped, startling you a little bit.

You had never met someone who knew about your powers, and so you never had to deal with the consequences of invading their privacy. To be honest, it never even crossed your mind just how upsetting it must be to have someone know exactly what you’re thinking all the time.

Neither of you said anything or even looked at each other until he had finally calmed back down, feeling that your unwanted presence was no longer poking and prodding around his brain.

“So, uh, do you go to that school,” he started, “I can’t remember what it’s called, but Wanda was telling me about it and how she almost got sent there when she was little, and—”

“I don’t go to Xavier’s,” you cut him off, and he suddenly realized just how much he was rambling to a complete stranger. “Nobody even knows that I’m a telepath. Well, except you.”

“Sorry about that,” he said, looking around the room. “But could you please just quit it with the cheating? Even though you guys already beat us, I think the next team that you play should be given a fair fight.”

You were a little disappointed that he already didn’t trust you, but you couldn’t blame him. You had been reading his mind, just not to do what he thought you were doing.

“I promise I’m not cheating,” you restated, looking into his brown eyes that you were just now noticing had little flecks of green in them.

“Well, can you tell me what you were doing, then?” he asked. He really wanted to give you the benefit of the doubt, especially since you had already stopped using your powers once you realized just how much it bothered him.

You could feel your heartbeat getting faster, and so could Peter. Were you going to let him think that you were a liar or tell him the embarrassing reason as to why you were reading his mind? You decided that the latter was the better choice.

“I think you’re cute,” you blurted out, suddenly aware of how hot your face felt. “And I was, well… I was reading your mind to see if you felt the same way about me.”

That wasn’t what Peter was expecting you to say at all, and he immediately felt really bad for even thinking that you were using your powers to somehow rig the competition.

“Oh.” His voice got quieter. “And what did you find out?”

You stepped closer to him, now knowing that Peter Parker smelled like clean laundry fresh out of the dryer, and you liked that a lot.

“That you think I’m pretty, and you really like how the color of my sweater looks against my skin.” Even without your powers, you could tell that he was nervous.

“I don’t know what you’re thinking, so you’re going to have to tell me,” you admitted, closing the space between you. “Or, you can just show me.”

Peter wasn’t the kind of guy to go around kissing girls he had just met, or even flirting with them for that matter, but he found himself drawn to you for some reason that he couldn’t quite place. And before he knew it, he was leaning down to kiss you.

You didn��t know how long it had been before his hand left your waist and you were getting down from your tiptoes, coming out of your daze.

“Was that okay?” Peter asked, waiting for you to say something to break the silence.

“Huh,” you sighed, bringing your fingertips to touch where his lips had just been. “So that’s what that feels like.”

It took Peter a few seconds to realize what you meant. It was your first kiss.

“Y/N!” you heard your team captain call. You looked to see her peeking out of the auditorium doors, gesturing for you to hurry up. “Come on, you’ve got like, one minute before we start!”

“Sorry, Parker. I’ve gotta go,” you said, pushing a lock of his hair back into place. “But who knows, maybe you can help me celebrate my team winning tonight.”

He watched in awe as you ran back into the auditorium, your shiny hair swishing behind you. Y/N, Peter thought to himself. He could get used to saying that.

“What the hell, Y/N?” your best friend, Beatrice, whispered as you took your seat next to her. “We’ve been talking about your perfect first kiss ever since we were 12, and now Sam tells me she saw you kissing some random guy in the hallway?”

“He’s not random,” you told her, smoothing your hair down from where Peter’s hands had messed it up. “I know him. Well, I sort of know him.”

“I have no idea what that means,” she complained, rolling her eyes. You knew you’d have a lot of explaining to do on the walk back to the hotel.

You shushed her, the host announcing that the questions were about to begin. You saw Peter slip back into the room, and watched as he sat down with what you could only guess were his classmates in the second row.

Most of them were wearing bright yellow blazers, but one guy had on a sweatshirt that had ‘Midtown School of Science and Technology’ printed around an atom across the front of it.

It wasn’t long before the match was over and your team was gathered in a circle to have yet another celebratory chant. You managed to slip away from the huddle to walk over to Peter.

“That was amazing! You’re amazing,” he told you, effortlessly picking you up and twirling you around. He’s a lot stronger than he looks, you thought to yourself.

He set you down gently on the floor, his brown eyes practically glowing with excitement. It felt like the two of you had known each other for much longer than you actually had.

“Thanks,” you muttered, staring down at your shoes. You had just remembered that tomorrow morning, you’d be leaving New York City to get on a plane back to your hometown in the middle of nowhere. Peter’s smile faded at the sudden shift of your mood.

“Go on a date with me tonight,” he said, making you look back up at him in surprise. You noticed that he had the lightest smattering of freckles across his nose.

“Wow,” you started, not really knowing how to react. “Who would’ve thought that today I’d be winning the national quiz bowl championships AND getting offered a free tour of New York City from the Spiderman?”

“Come on, don’t tease me. Just say yes,” he insisted, pouting. “I promise I’ll make it worth your time.”

“Fine, I’ll go out with you,” you happily agreed, making his puppy dog eyes disappear. “Meet me at the front of the Marriott on Albany Street at 6.”

“Ok, cool, awesome. Uh, I’ll see you at six,” he said, grinning from ear to ear as you walked back towards your group.

You glanced back to see him silently celebrating to himself, and you decided to let yourself use your powers just this once to tell him, “I saw that.”

Peter immediately stopped his little victory dance to look at you smiling at him from across the room, and he gave you an awkward wave before leaving to catch up with his classmates.

You smiled brightly as a local news reporter snapped a group picture of your team, knowing that you had just scored a date with the cutest guy on the planet.

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

Taglist: @hommyy-tommy @itsgonnabeohtay @alltimekyn @allycat449-blog @greatpizzascissorstaco @dummiesshort @parkerpeterparker2004 @letssee2468 @yourbiggestspiderfan

P.S.: Please shoot me an ask or a reply if you’d like to be added to (or removed from) the taglist!

[thinkingisadangerouspastime]

sigh no more

The crowd whistled its approval before gradually dispersing, and Mai sent him a lethal glare as she approached him. Zuko expected her to storm past, but instead she paused at his side, closing her eyes as her face became expressionless once more. “You always leave before it’s over,” she murmured. Their shoulders were almost touching. “I know you of old.”

And then she was gone.

Much Ado About Nothing AU, which coincidentally fell in line with Day 3: AU of @maikoweek! Hurray for a lovely happenstance. I did twist around a few aspects of the play to fit it better for Maiko/ATLA, but BxB was too good of a Maiko dynamic to pass up, even if Zuko is nowhere near as suave as Benedict, lmao. I really think Mai is a lot a like Beatrice, albeit with more deadpan, monotone sarcasm rather than high energy banter. I hope you enjoy these four Much Ado excerpts that I have Maiko-fied. :)

Read here on AO3! (Rated T; length is just under 5k.)

N.B. You don’t need to know anything about Much Ado About Nothing to read this fic! Bonus points if you’re familiar with the play, though. ;)

I.i.114-143

“I wonder why you’re still talking, Prince Zuko. No one is listening.”

Zuko’s shoulders stiffened at the familiar, dry tone. He wasn’t sure if his heart skipped a beat from irritation or excitement. Attraction, too, was undoubtedly involved. Not that he’d admit it aloud. “Lady Disdain,” he said, recalling the barb he’d practiced in the mirror back at the palace. He turned around to see none other than the Lady Mai - as expected - with her arms crossed over her chest. “I… didn’t know you were still alive.”

Ugh. The perfect set-up with a pathetic follow. How embarrassing.

Mai raised an eyebrow at him, perhaps as surprised at his weak retort as he was. “How can disdain ever die when all you do is add fuel to her fire, Prince Zuko?” She smoothed the front of her dress. “Surely you, heir to the royal throne and a firebender, would understand that.”

Zuko rolled his eyes, keenly aware they now had the attention of a crowd of Fire Nation citizens. Azula’s calculating stare behind him dug into his spine. “Lady Mai. You know as well as I do that the Fire Nation once again welcomes me with open arms.” He sent her a sideways glance. “Including your parents, for that matter.” He didn’t miss how she flinched at his words.

This month at her house would be… the longest of his life.

“I am certain Prince Zuko is loved by all in the Fire Nation, Lady Mai,” Azula teased, filling the tense silence. His sister never had been able to remain out of his relationship - former relationship - with Mai. “Except for you, of course.” She laughed, a bit louder than necessary. “Why, he’s turned down a dozen proposals in the past two hours since we arrived! And yet…” She sent Mai a casual, seemingly-innocent glance. “Zuko loves none.”

Why Azula alway felt the need to lie, Zuko didn’t know. What he did know was that her interruptions were not helping. And he didn’t appreciate the reminder of Mai’s hatr-

No. She didn’t - couldn’t -

No.

Zuko didn’t appreciate the reminder of Mai’s dislike for him. The loss of which he could only blame himself for.

Mai snorted. “And every woman in the Fire Nation is better off with his rejection.”

Zuko stiffened at the blow as the crowd snickered around them.

“But, I suppose I understand his desire to be alone, never falling in love,” Mai mused, a small smirk sliding onto her lips. It was the closest expression to a smile Zuko had seen on her face in a long time. “I’d rather hear a platypus-bear roar at a turtleduck than a man swear he loves me.”

Zuko glared at her, the memory of himself swearing his love to her before… before their separation bubbling hotly to the forefront of his mind. Anger soon overwhelmed any appreciation he’d had of her almost-smile. “And the Fire Nation is grateful for that, too, that way no man suffers from some” - what had Azula said to the jackass guard on their way in? - “some predestinate scratched face!” He paused. “Er, from being with you.”

Despite his faltering response, Mai returned his heated glare with an icy one of her own. “Scratching couldn’t make it worse, if the man had a face like yours.”

The crowd collectively winced at her words, and Zuko’s left hand crept up to brush his scar. Meanwhile, Azula’s eyes bore a hole into the back of his head - waiting. She was waiting for him to respond.

The flicker of guilt that flashed across Mai’s face disappeared as soon as it had come, her expression returning to its typical, unimpressed facade.

She hadn’t meant it like that. Zuko wasn’t sure how he knew, but he did. He could just - tell, when it came to Mai. And before he’d - he’d left, she’d never… No. Zuko knew her well enough. Better than he deserved to know her. And Mai would never use his scar against him.

But, as crown prince and as her guest for the next month, he still had to save face. Not to mention Azula’s intense stare from behind him was yet to lessen.

“You talk more than a parrot-snake,” he snapped, which wasn’t really true, but the crowd delighted in the petty insult nonetheless.

“A bird of my tongue is better than a beast of yours,” was Mai’s cool response.

Zuko barked a laugh. “I wish my ostrich-horse ran as fast as your mouth.” He held up his hand to stop her before she could respond. “But you’re free to tell yourself whatever you want, Lady Mai. I’m done here.”

The crowd whistled its approval before gradually dispersing, and Mai sent him a lethal glare as she approached him. Zuko expected her to storm past, but instead she paused at his side, closing her eyes as her face became expressionless once more. “You always leave before it’s over,” she murmured. Their shoulders were almost touching. “I know you of old.”

And then she was gone.

Zuko exhaled slowly before returning to his sister’s side, not missing the amused expression on her face.

“I see you’re still engaged in your ‘skirmish of wits’ with Mai,” Azula noted, examining her gold-tipped fingernails. “A merry war that you would certainly lose without my help.”

Zuko glared at her. “I’ve told you, Azula. I don’t need you involved in my business with Mai. It’s not your responsibility to oversee us.”

Azula rolled her eyes. “Please. Zuzu. You should accept any help you’re offered regarding Mai, what with how your previous relationship with her ended in a dumpster fire. A fire you lit.”

Zuko grimaced at the reminder. He hadn’t wanted to leave Mai behind. But he’d had no other choice. And even if there had been a different option… Mai deserved more than him. Always. “I’d still appreciate it if you stayed out of my business.”

Azula raised an eyebrow at him. “For the time being, Zuko, your business is my business. This trip to Lady Mai’s is not only to reassess the good standing of her family, but also for Father to make sure you are trustworthy.” She gave him a knowing, almost wicked smile. “So you have a double reason to be grateful for my help. Because you wouldn’t make it without me.”

Zuko hadn’t realized his fists were clenched until his nails began digging into his palms. He forced himself to relax, nodding. But little tension left his body. “Fine.”

“That’s my brother.” Azula adjusted the golden hairpiece pinned into her bun. “Now. Mai’s parents are hosting a masquerade tonight to welcome us. Be your chipper self, and when the time is right, put on a mask and dance with Mai so she doesn’t know it’s you. Use that time to properly talk to her.” She chuckled. “And until then, do figure out what you’re going to say.”

The masquerade… Zuko had almost forgotten. And as much as he hated taking advice from Azula, his sister had a point. Maybe the best way to be honest with Mai was behind a mask. So he nodded once more, and Azula appeared satisfied.

Zuko didn’t deserve a second chance. Not from Mai, of all people. But… She was worth trying for one.

Mai was worth everything. She always had been. And he’d never forgive himself for not letting her know.

II.i.123-152

Finding Mai at the masquerade had been easy enough, even considering that Zuko had briefly left after the introductory festivities to find a mask. Mai herself was not wearing a mask, for one, but she was also…

Stunning. There was no other word.

Mai always had worn red better than anyone else in the Fire Nation, much to the envy of Azula. She radiated power and grace as she effortlessly floated between partners - Agni, it was a miracle Zuko didn’t chicken out of asking her to dance. At least his mask hid how much he was blushing.

“So you won’t tell me who you are?” Mai asked as they gently swayed to the airy tune.

“I’m… the Blue Spirit,” Zuko said after a pause, not wanting to deny her an answer but unable to tell her the truth, either. He deepened his voice as he spoke, though he wasn’t sure how aptly that disguised it.

Mai laughed - quickly, but a smile tugged at the corners of her lips just long enough for him to revel in it. He hadn’t seen a real smile on her face in years. “You know, Blue Spirit, I had an interesting run-in today,” she said, changing the topic from his identity, for which he was silently grateful. “With none other than Prince Zuko.” Her eyes flickered across his mask. “Perhaps you’ve heard of him?”

Zuko stiffened at his own name, relieved that the panic written all over his face was at least hidden. He cleared his throat. “Is that so?”

She nodded. “Yes. He told me that I was disdainful, and that he could hardly believe I was still alive.” Bitterness flashed across her expression. “Maybe he has been gone for so long. Long enough to forget everything.” The grip of her hand that rested on his shoulder tightened, but soon slackened. “Sometimes it felt that way to me.”

“I’m afraid I’ve never” - he coughed - “er, I don’t know of Prince Zuko.”

Mai gave him a skeptical look. “You can’t expect me to believe that.”

A statement, not a question.

Zuko was sweating too much. His palms had to be as slick as a fish - spirits, he couldn’t believe she was still dancing with him. The time to switch partners had already passed. Did she know who he was? What he was doing? “Not I, Lady Mai.”

There was a long pause before she spoke again. The only sounds were the music and the idle, lighthearted chatter around them. “Did Zuko never make you laugh?”

Zuko blinked at the sudden subject change. “What?”

Out of nowhere, Mai took the lead in their dance, walking the steps that men typically followed as her hand on his shoulder dropped to his waist. He instinctively fell back, allowing her full control. “Well, Zuko may masquerade as a prince,” she said sharply, “but he’s much more the prince’s jester. A very dull fool, whose only talent is lying to and leaving the people who care about him.” Mai dropped him into a dip, and Zuko grimaced behind his mask as his heel ground into her toes. “He works too hard to please those that will only bring him pain.” She then pulled him upright before letting go of his hand. “I’m sure he’s still at this dance. I could have sworn he stepped on my feet already.”

The blood drained from Zuko’s face. Did she know…? “If I run into him, I will give him your message,” he managed to say.

Mai snorted. “Go ahead. I’m sure he’ll get a kick out of complaining about me.” She shook her head. “Maybe my words will dissuade him from coming to dinner. I don’t want to see him tonight.” She clutched the red fabric at her sides. “Or ever again.”

Zuko nodded. He didn’t know whether to succumb to the anger bubbling in his chest or the guilt rising in the back of his throat. “You put the prince down, Lady Mai.”

Mai laughed. It was harsher, sharper than before. “It is well-deserved.” She leveled her gaze with the eyes of his mask. “I lent Zuko my heart for a while, Blue Spirit. Longer than he ever did me. I was always there for him, even when my parents told me I should walk away. I would have done anything for him.” She took a slow breath. “And what did I get in return?”

Zuko swallowed. “I - I don’t know, Lady Mai.”

“Nothing.” Her voice had dropped close to a whisper. “Not even a goodbye.” Mai’s fists unclenched, the fabric of her dress slowly falling loose. “Do you understand, Blue Spirit?”

Zuko hesitated, but nodded. “Yes. I do.”

“Good.” Mai turned away. “Enjoy the party.”

Zuko watched her figure disappear into the crowd. It wasn’t until she’d vanished from his sight that he realized… Oh, Agni.

He hadn’t said goodbye.

IV.i.269-350

Nausea lined every inch of Zuko’s stomach, bile threatening to rise into his throat and spill out at any second.

What… What had he just watched?

“Well, her father was right to reprimand her,” Azula said coolly. “Mai has no power. It’s time she learned that.”

Zuko stared at his sister in a mixture of shock and horror. “What? How can you say that? All Mai did was stand up for herself -”

Azula sent him a pitying look that silenced him in seconds. “Zuzu. She has nothing to defend. Mai is a lady, belonging neither with royalty nor with the peasants. She must learn to be silent, and to be satisfied with her station. It is the only way she’ll survive. Besides, her parents were probably just having a bad day and took it out on her -”

“Her father accused her of ingratitude and her mother stayed quiet the entire time he shouted at her,” Zuko interrupted, his fists clenching so tightly that his fingernails cut into his palms. He’d be amazed if there was no blood. “It’s obvious they’ve been through this before, Azula. Mai shouldn’t be treated like a prisoner in her own home because of one question! She shouldn’t be ignored or - or denied her voice! All she wanted was…” Oh.

To get away.

Maybe… she’d wanted to go with him. All those years ago.

“Mai knows as well as anyone else what her place is,” Azula snapped. “Second to the son. Behind the heir.” She shook her head. “I thought you’d learned your place, too, Zuzu, but now…” She glared at him. “I’m not so sure. Don’t make me tell Father that you have some foolish fantasy prancing around your head about abolishing the nobility just so your ex-girlfriend will feel better.”

Zuko’s jaw tightened. His scar ached at the reminder of his father. But he knew his sister’s words were merely a distraction. “I’m going to check on her,” was his final response before he followed the path Mai had silently taken out of the house.

He found her in the garden, sitting beneath a weeping willow. Her eyes widened when she saw him, and she dropped her head, but not before he noticed the tearstains tracing her cheeks.

“Lady Mai,” he said slowly, lowering himself to sit beside her, “have… have you been crying the whole time?”

Mai wiped her eyes. “No.”

“Mai…”

She huffed. “Fine.” Her voice cracked, and she grimaced. “But I’m allowed to cry. It’s the one thing I have a right to do.” She shook her head. “At least in private.”

Zuko hesitated. “I don’t want to see you cry, Mai.”

“Then shut your eyes.”

Zuko chewed his bottom lip. He wanted nothing more than to pull Mai into a tight embrace, promising her that everything would work out and her parents would come to their senses. Even if those words might be - would be - a lie.

But it was no longer his place to do so. Not anymore.

“Your father was wrong to speak to you like that,” he decided to say. “And your mother was wrong to not step in and help you, either.”

“I’m well aware,” she said bitterly. “And I’d owe everything to the person who dared to actually tell them that.”

“Is there a way to show such friendship?” Zuko asked after a pause.

She laughed. It was harsh, scratching her throat. “Of course there’s a way. But I have no friends here.” She glanced at him before dropping her gaze back to the grass beneath her palms. “Not anymore.”

Zuko placed his hand on top of hers, scarcely managing to bite back a relieved exhale when she didn’t pull away. “Ty Lee is gone. Azula doesn’t count. But…” He took a deep breath. “Can a man do it?”

Mai scoffed. “Right. Because I’m sure the world considers it a man’s office to defend a woman.” She sighed, and he could feel her clench the grass beneath her hand. “Maybe it is. But it’s not yours, Zuko.”

Zuko knew it was now or never. He’d hurt her before. Maybe irreparably. But he had to try. She - Mai needed someone to be there for her, he knew she did. And he loved her. He - He wanted to be there for her in all the ways he hadn’t been before.

So maybe it was selfish, but…

“Mai.” He reached out, tucking her hair that had fallen loose from her buns behind her ear. “I… I love nothing in the world as much as you.” He gave her a weak, maybe too-timid smile. “Isn’t that strange?”

Mai froze at his words, and all hope bled out of Zuko’s body. He silently cursed himself. Why had he spoken? Why hadn’t he just accepted that he’d ruined things permanently between them when he’d abandoned her alone three years ago?

“It’s… not strange,” she quietly admitted, and Zuko’s heart skipped a beat. “I could say that I loved nothing as much as you, but” - she shook her head, frustration glimmering in her eyes - “you shouldn’t believe me when I say it, even if I’m not lying -”

Mai cut herself off again with a sharp inhale, pulling her hand out from under Zuko’s to wipe her eyes a second time. “I admit nothing.” She looked up at him, and the hurt in her expression was soon drowned out by a fragile, hopeful hesitation. “But I won’t deny anything, either.” She sighed in frustration, running her hands through her hair. “Agni, I’m so sick of feeling sorry for myself!”

Zuko’s heart was beating out of his chest. “You love me.”

Mai scoffed. “Don’t sound so surprised.”

Zuko shook his head. “I didn’t think - after what I did - I don’t deserve -”

“It’s not about ‘deserve,’ Zuko!” She sighed again. “It’s never been about ‘deserve.’ Because you always loved me. The real me.” Mai closed her eyes, pain flickering across her face. “Yes. You screwed up. For a long time, Zuko, I thought I hated you. And I didn’t want to -  I - I couldn’t forgive you. Not at first.” Her gaze hardened. “And I’m still angry at you.” She clenched her fists. “But…”

Zuko’s breath hitched in his throat. “But what?”

Mai groaned. “Agni forgive me.”

Zuko frowned. Where was this going?

She exhaled slowly, lacing her fingers through his. “Zuko… I don’t think I ever stopped loving you. Even I told myself I had.” She laughed - still quiet, but without the harshness of before. “Maybe, if the time was right, I’d even act like Ty Lee and protest that I loved you.”

Zuko’s grip on her hand tightened. “What’s stopping you? Do it with all your heart.” He remembered Uncle saying that to his wife, eons ago. And he wanted to hear the response from Mai. All three words.

Mai laughed again, light and open for the first time since he’d arrived at her home. She turned towards him, cupping his face with her free hand. “I think I love you with so much of my heart that none of it is left to protest.”

Zuko stared at her, drowning in her presence.

And then he was kissing Mai, his hand resting at the curve of her neck atop her collarbone as he pressed her back against the trunk of the tree. She wrapped her arms around his waist in response, pulling him into her body to deepen the kiss before one of her hands rose up to entangle itself in his hair. Zuko regretted nothing more than when he had to pull away to breathe.

“Don’t think this means you’re off the hook,” Mai whispered, her chest rising and falling with a rapid speed that told Zuko she’d enjoyed the moment as much as he had. She touched their foreheads together. “Just because we’re on kissing terms again doesn’t mean my expectations have lowered.”

Zuko was simply grateful she was willing to give him another chance. He pressed a gentle kiss to her jaw. “Ask me to do anything for you.”

There was a long pause. The air seemed to grow heavier in the silence.

“Kill my parents.”

Zuko eyes widened in horror. The social consequences, the punishment from his father, the possibility of another lifetime of exile… It was impossible. “I can’t.”

Mai jerked away from him as if she’d been burned. “You kill me to deny it. Goodbye.”

“Mai!”

She pulled her arm away as he grabbed it, pushing herself to her feet. “I am gone, though I am here. There is no love in you.”

Zuko reached after her a second time, his hand closing on her wrist. “Mai, please -”

“Don’t touch me!”

The force of her words shocked him, and he let go. “Can we at least be friends again?” he finally asked, slowly getting to his feet.

She stared at him incredulously. The amount of emotion she was expressing in such a short span of time was almost foreign to Zuko, and yet he couldn’t help but feel a hint of satisfaction that she was only willing to be so expressive around him. “You’d rather be friends with me than fight with my enemy?”

“Are your parents your enemy?” he pleaded.

“Agni, you of all people should understand that, Zuko!”

He winced at her words, hand creeping up to touch his scar. He… Yes. He understood. Not that he’d ever wanted to think of Ozai, his father, as his enemy.

But just because Mai’s parents had never burned her didn’t… It didn’t mean they’d ever loved her.

“Have they not proved themselves in the height of villainy?” Mai hissed. “Treating me like our family is better off when I’m out of the house? When I’m in a different room? When I am silent?” She clenched her fists. “Showing every damn day that our name, our reputation will always be more important than what I want? Telling me that my little brother means more to them than I ever could? Making no move to help me when - when you left -” She choked on her words and shook her head, blinking back tears. “Spirits, if I was a man - if I was allowed control over my own life -” Mai dug her heel into the dirt, her hands slowly uncurling. “I would eat their hearts in the marketplace.”

Zuko inhaled sharply. That was near treason. “Mai, you can’t -”

“Don’t you dare tell me what I can’t do!” Her voice broke, and Zuko’s heart shattered at the same time. “I’m tired of hearing those words! Every day! Do this, don’t do that, look, don’t touch, see without being seen!” She pushed her hair out of her face. “What good is being a prince, Zuko, if - if you can’t help people with that power? If you can’t take them with you?”

He heard what went unspoken.

Why did you leave me behind?

“I can’t escape this hell with wishing, so I’ll die here with grieving,” she finished bitterly, turning to leave the garden.

Zuko hastily stepped in front of her, taking her hands in his. “Mai, I swear -”

“I don’t need another broken promise from you, Zuko,” she said coldly, though she made no move to walk away.

Zuko flinched at her words. “Okay. You’re right.” He released her hands, exhaling slowly. “I can’t kill your parents, Mai. But” - he met her gaze directly to stop her from interrupting - “I can get you out of here. I - I don’t know how, yet, but we’re leaving. Soon. And this time, we’re going together.” He took a deep breath. “I’m sorry, Mai. I never meant to hurt you.”

Mai didn’t respond. And when she fell forward into his arms after her knees buckled beneath her, Zuko held her close, willing to stay as long as she needed.

He was never leaving her again.

V.ii.42-103

Everything was in place.

That night, while everyone - including the servants - was attending a performance by the Ember Island Players, he and Mai would have the perfect chance to sneak out. Zuko wasn’t sure where they’d go. Maybe Ba Sing Se. Eventually, of course, they’d have to return to the capital. He had duties to fulfill as crown prince. And Mai…

Well, she’d be Fire Lady one day. Probably the best in history. If he had to, he would make them respect that.

“You asked for me?”

Zuko stood from the bench he was sitting on as Mai entered the garden, dressed in more relaxed attire than he knew she’d worn in a long while. He enjoyed seeing her comfortable. “Yes.” He moved forward to kiss her, but she sidestepped, giving him a teasing smile.

“I’m here for an update, Prince Zuko. If what you say satisfies me, then maybe - maybe - neither of us will depart unkissed.”

Zuko laughed. Seeing her in perpetual good spirits was his new favorite thing. Well, his new, old favorite thing. Mai was - she was beautiful all the time, no doubt, but there was a special twinkle in her eyes when she hated the world.

He’d rather die than ever again see her believe the world hated her.

“I have good news. Our plan is a go.” He laced his fingers with hers. “I’ll meet you at your bedroom tonight when it’s time to leave.”

Zuko saw tension ease out of Mai’s body at his words, her shoulders dropping in relief. “Waiting for these next few hours to pass will take years,” she admitted.

Zuko chuckled. “Then let me distract you.” He wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her onto his lap as he sat back down on the bench. He’d half-expected her to stop him, and was silently overjoyed when she simply rolled her eyes before leaning back into his chest.

“Give it your best shot, future Fire Lord.”

“Hmm…” Zuko had to contemplate what best to say. “Okay. Tell me this - which of my bad parts did you fall for first?”

He could feel Mai laugh. The sound vibrated into his chest, even if he couldn’t see her entire smile. “All of them at once. But if anyone asks, none, and never.”

He kissed the nape of her neck, relishing in the shiver that ran down her spine. “As long as you’re honest around me.”

Mai hummed contentedly. “I could ask the same of you.”

“Which of your bad parts I fell in love with first?”

Mai laughed. “No. I mean I could ask you to always be honest with me, too. That said…” She turned in his lap to better face him, an edge of mirth to her smile. “Tell me - which of my good parts did you suffer love for first?”

Zuko found himself laughing, too. “‘Suffer love’?” He pressed a kiss to the tip of her nose. “I guess I do suffer, since I love you against my will.”

“Oh, in spite of your heart, I’m sure,” Mai mused, a teasing glint now shimmering in her eyes. “Poor heart.”

Zuko chuckled. “Azula always said we didn’t know how to flirt like normal people.” Mai accepting him back into her life had made dealing with Azula’s temperament far easier the past few days.

“She might have a point.” Mai shrugged. “But who cares what Azula says? We found our way back to each other.”

Zuko closed his eyes, pressing his forehead against hers. “We did. And I’m never leaving you again.”

There was a pause before Mai responded. “Will you…” She took a shuddering breath, placing one of her hands on his chest. “Are you really going with me tonight?”

Zuko leaned back slightly, removing one of his arms from around her waist to cup her face in his hand. “Lady Mai, I will live in your heart, die in your lap, and be buried in your eyes. Most importantly…” He pressed a chaste kiss to her lips. “I will go with you wherever you travel.”

Mai leaned into a second kiss. “Good,” she whispered. “Because I’m never letting you say goodbye to me again.”

“You won’t have to,” Zuko promised. His grip tightened on her waist. “I know I’ve said it before, but I - I never wanted to leave you, Mai. And I know I hurt you.” He shook his head, gently running his thumb just beneath her eye. “I could apologize a million times and that wouldn’t make up for it -”

“Zuko.” Mai gave him a gentle smile. “You came back. That’s what matters.”

Zuko raised an eyebrow at her. “So… Does this mean you don’t hate me anymore?”

Mai rolled her eyes, but her smile didn’t leave. “I think we’re well past that point, Zuko.”

And when she crashed her lips onto his for the umpteenth time, well… That answered any other questions Zuko may have had.

Sigh no more, ladies, sigh no more,

Men were deceivers ever,

One foot in sea and one on shore,

To one thing constant never.

Then sigh not so, but let them go,

And be you blithe and bonny,

Converting all your sounds of woe

Into hey, nonny nonny.

Sing no more ditties, sing no mo

Of dumps so dull and heavy.

The fraud of men was ever so,

Since summer first was leavy.

Then sigh not so, but let them go

And be you blithe and bonny,

Converting all your sounds of woe

Into hey, nonny nonny.

[blackteaandbones]

Reposting this little Avatrice piece because the original tags are buggy for some reason.

Thank you to @arashimaru and anon for the prompts :)

Prompt 1:

Beatrice is injured during a mission but hides how bad her wound actually is to make sure she doesn't distract her team and the mission is completed at all cost. Ava sensed something is wrong but as usual can't argue with Bea's logic. Cue some kind of dramatic reveal (blood stain, Bea collapsed, you name it) which then forces Ava and Bea to talk and Ava gets to care for Bea for once. 

Prompt 2:

I was wondering if you’d write something where Bea is hurt/sick but hides it so they can complete a mission. It makes it way worse and eventually the group finds out, preferably by dramatic reveal (like collapsing or something). Ava panics and maybe even blames herself and they have to talk. The group reminds bea that she has worth outside of like her training and fighting abilities and that they care about her.

Part 1 of “Damned if you Do” under the cut

“You’re a damn fool.”

“I know…”

“No. You don’t know. If you knew-” Mary snaps, pulling the thread tight and tying off another stitch, “you wouldn’t have done what you did, and Ava here wouldn’t be trying to keep your blood inside your fool body where it belongs instead of letting it spill out all over the floor while I try to put you back together. If you knew,” she adds, jabbing the needle in again and ignoring Beatrice’s wince, “you would have stayed at your post instead of swooping in like prince-fucking-charming and getting yourself impaled!”  

“Language,” Beatrice chides weakly.  

“Language?” Mary scoffs rolling her eyes over Beatrice’s shoulder at Ava. “Language, she says to me, after scaring the shit out of everybody for no goddamned reason.”  

Beatrice sighs. “Ava-”

“Ava was fine!” Mary cuts her off. “Weren’t you Ava?”  

“Oh, no. I’m staying out of this.” Ava would have raised her hands in surrender, but she has one arm  wrapped around Beatrice; holding her up while Mary works to close the gaping hole in her side, and the other hand pressing a blood-soaked wad of fabric that had once been one of her sleeves over the exit wound in her back. They’d lost precious minutes once they’d made it home to the safe house and gotten Beatrice into her bed, peeling off her armour and cutting her out of her habit, leaving her in only the bra and loose pants she wore under her skirt (Ava is holding her respectfully okay?) and she hadn’t been able to bear to let go of her any longer than necessary throughout.  

Luckily, Mary had been too pissed to comment on her handsiness, though Ava knew she’d noticed.  

“Coward,” (fair, but hey!) Mary mutters, snipping the last thread. “Okay, let’s do the other side, then we’ll wrap her up and leave her to think about what she did.”  

Instead of moving Beatrice, Ava switches places with Mary so that Beatrice can lean forward into her shoulder while Mary stitches up her back.  It’s not perfect, but they don’t want to lay her down until they’re done, or they’ll just have to sit her up again to bandage everything, and according to Mary, the less she’s moved the better.  

Ava isn’t complaining, and Beatrice doesn’t seem to be in any hurry to let go of her either, clutching the front of Ava’s shirt in white knuckled fists while Mary peels the bloody fabric loose and douses the wound with antiseptic. Beatrice hisses through her teeth, a whimper catching in the back of her throat.  

“Talk to me,” she breathes.  

“Uh…” Ava instantly forgets all words ever. “About what?”

“Anything.”  

“Okay, um… “ words, words, words… “How does Moses make his coffee?”

“How?”

“Hebrews it.”  

Beatrice snorts into Ava’s chest.

“You’re right,” Ava agrees. “That one was terrible. How about… What’s a missionary’s favorite kind of car?”  

“She gets a sword through the gut, and I’m the one being tortured,” Mary mutters under her breath, (because she’s a jerk who hates fun.)

“A convertible.”

That one actually gets a chuckle out of Beatrice, her shoulders shaking in the circle of Ava’s arms.  

“Hold still, or you’re going to have more than one hole in your gut!” Mary grumbles, but Ava can see the hint of a smirk at the corner of her mouth. (busted!) She’s almost done, the flow of blood slowing to a trickle as she pulls the ragged edges of the wound together.

One more. “How long did Cain hate his brother?” She pauses for dramatic effect. “As long as he was Abel.”

“I take it back,” Beatrice groans. “No more talking.”  

Ava gasps in mock affront. “I’m hilarious! You don’t know what you’re missing.”

“We’ll take our chances,” Mary answers for both of them. “There.” She sits back, wiping the sweat off her forehead with a bloody hand. “You’re all done. I’ll send Camilla in with some of the good drugs while Ava gets you cleaned up, then we can all get together and talk about how much trouble you’re in.”

“When did we stop talking about it?” Beatrice sighs. “I can do that,” she adds when Ava reaches for the bowl of warm water and rags Camilla had left with them before fleeing Mary’s wrath. “I’m not a complete invalid.”  

“You were literally just impaled,” Ava says, holding the bowl out of her reach. “I think you can let someone else take care of you for five minutes.”  

Beatrice frowns, but she doesn’t protest when Ava sets the bowl down beside them on the bed and wrings out one of the rags. Ava holds out a hand and Beatrice reluctantly offers one of her own. Ava takes it reminding herself that this is medicinal touching, and there are no hormones allowed in medicine (really, this whole teenage libido thing is getting ridiculous. Time and place much?) She does one hand, and then the other, wiping the dried blood from Beatrice’s palms and between her fingers; trying to forget with every swipe of the rag over soft skin how much worse this could have been.

No one had realized she was even wounded until the fight was over. It had been chaos; the plan fucked sideways from their first move, but Ava had been handling it. Mary and Lilith had her back, Beatrice and Camilla were running the secondary ops, and the Halo was even behaving itself; they were going to be fine. And then suddenly Beatrice was there between Ava and a sword (a sword she totally would have countered by the way,) and it all went tits up. Camilla was left hanging, the plan in tatters, they fought their way free only for Beatrice to promptly pass out, hands clamped to her side.

Ava remembers a lot of shrieking and panicking after that (most – okay all of it hers.)  

“I’m sorry,” Beatrice says, eyes downcast, shoulders bowed. “I didn’t mean to worry you.”

I wasn’t worried,” Ava lies, wiping the last of the blood from her wrists and getting a fresh rag before moving on to her waist.  

Beatrice glances up through her lashes (unfair,) a subtle tilt to the corner of her mouth that says she knows exactly how full of shit Ava is. “My mistake.”  

(To be continued)

[hphmmatthewluther]

HPHM April Prompts 2021: Day 2: The Villain of Hogwarts

It’s Day 2 of #aprilprompts2021 by @stupendousbookworm , and today we get villainous! (Note: This one’s a little short as I’m out for most of the day, but I hope you enjoy it nonetheless!)

Prompt # 2 - We all know that MC is the hero of Hogwarts. But what if they weren't? What if MC was evil? Illustrate or write a paragraph about your MC, except they're evil.

“Good news, I’ve decided I’m accepting your offer.” There was a scream. A small part of Rowan’ mind registered it as Beatrice’s voice, but the majority of their focus was on the flash of green light a few feet away. When it disappeared, the body of Patricia Rakepick was on the ground, motionless. Rowan had to cover their mouth. Their eyes moved towards the caster of that most Unforgivable Curse. They still couldn’t quite believe it. The teenager looked at the Portrait of his brother on the wall, which had an expression of pure shock. “I think you look better there,” he muttered, “At least you can’t run away now.” He turned to Rowan, whose eyes were still on Rakepick.  “What?” the killer said in the voice of Matthew Luther. “She’s part of R. She’s been torturing Merula. I can show you proof if you’d like...I wouldn’t be too far off schedule.” Rowan found themselves backing away. “You can’t have...it wasn’t...she deserved a fair trial.”

Matthew let out a hollow laugh. “Rowan, that trial would be anything but fair. Besides, as far I’m concerned, death is far better a fate than Azkaban. But don’t take that from me…” He walked over to the unconscious Merula Snyde, running a hand through her wild hair. Penny and Beatrice slowly moved away. “Something had to be done.” Matthew declared. “She was hurting, and she couldn’t say a thing. Because, for some reason, the Wizarding community seems to just despise progress.” Matthew sighed, before moving Merula so she was more comfortable. “And so, I asked myself. Why? Why are wizards so stuck in their backwards ways? It puzzled me for quite some time, I must admit. Until...I came to the solution staring me in the face.” He sighed, the smirk fading from his face. “It’s because, Rowan, wizards feel like they don’t need to worry about what Muggles think.” Rowan stared at his best friend with a great deal of confusion. “What does that have to do with anything?”

“Look, I’ve had a long look at the history of magic, and I’ve developed a theory. You see,” he began, moving towards Rakepick’s body, “In the beginning, Wizards allowed Muggles to see and share in magic. They were sort of like a large caterpillar, they moved around eating whatever they came across and poisoning any Muggles that got too close.” “Then, we went into hiding. The Statute of Secrecy, all of that. We entered a chrysalis, and we’ve done nothing but wallow. We’re trapped in walls of our own making.” he said, moving back towards Merula, who stirred slightly. “Don’t worry about a thing, songbird. I’ve got everything covered. When you wake up, you’ll be in a brand new world.” Merula hummed at that, and drifted off into a deeper sleep. “So…what?” asked Rowan, “You want us to...break free?” Matthew nodded. “We need to spread our wings. Show our true colours. The Muggles won’t be able to ignore us...and we won’t be able to ignore them. No memory charms will undo what I’ve got planned.”

“But, they’ll just make us handle all of their problems!” Rowan protested “Oh, no! Basic human decency!” Matthew jokingly lamented, putting a hand to his brow, “Something wizards are quite frankly lacking.” Rowan paused. Matthew had always been critical of the way the Wizarding World worked, but this was beyond anything they had ever seen. “You...and where are you going to be in all of this?” Matthew chuckled. “R keep trying to make me the new Dark Lord. Maybe I should start listening...if I were in charge, well, I’d have a lot I’d want to get rid of...starting with them.” He began to laugh at his own joke, and it was a laugh Rowan had heard his father do several times while telling him stories. The laugh of the vampire, or warlock, or werewolf, or whatever monster it was that night. “Matthew, I get it, really I do, but you can’t have that power!” Rowan said, raising his own wand by instinct. Matthew smirked, raising his own wand. “Really? Why ever not?”

“Expelliarmus!” came a voice, and Matthew’s wand went flying across the room. A flash of rage crossed his face as Bill Weasley moved in front of Rowan. “Nobody can be trusted with that power. A position like that’s bound to be abused! A Ravenclaw like you ought to have figured that one out!” Bill declared. Matthew considered this for a moment. “Yes, but can you blame me?” he asked, as if total power over Wizardkind wasn’t that big a deal. “You’d do the same, wouldn’t you?” “Yeah, maybe I would!” Bill admitted, “But I’m enough of a wizard to know not to get anywhere near something like that. Why do you think Dumbledore never went for total power?” “Because he was weak! Because Albus Dumbledore, unlike me, lacked the faith in himself to do what needed to be done!” “Albus Dumbledore knows himself better than most know themselves, and if you think you could be a Dark Lord, Matthew, I’m afraid you’ve got it wrong!”

There was suddenly a high-pitched cry, as into the Portrait Vault flew a large red phoenix with something in his talons. “Fawkes?” asked Matthew, sounding genuinely confused. Fawkes flew overhead, dropping the large something, which Bill caught in his hands. There was another cry, and Fawkes landed besides Beatrice and Penny, the younger of whom started to scratch its chin. The three who were standing looked at what was now in Bill’s hands. It was brown, and made of leather, and when Bill unfolded it, a floppy brim came out from under the folds. “Is that the Sorting Hat?” Rowan asked aloud. Matthew gazed at it before laughing once again.

“Oh, Dumbledore’s finally done something to protect his students, and it’s this? What, am I being resorted into Slytherin? Give me a break...” Matthew sneered, before bringing his hands together, causing them to flash with electricity.  “Wandless magic. Useful for when someone interrupts my scheming.” Rowan braced themselves as a bolt of blue lightning struck them, causing their wand to go flying along with them, pushing them against a wall and causing a few portraits to fall to the ground. Bill scowled at Matthew, who now aimed at him. “I’d make a joke about Oddjob and that hat,” the Ravenclaw said, “But...I’m afraid it would go to waste...ah, well...” There was another Blue flash as a lightning bolt headed towards Bill. The Head Boy , not really thinking, pulled up the hat in front of it…

And was surprised to still be standing. His wand and the hat had been blasted across the room, but he was unharmed. What was more, in his hand was now a brilliant silver sword, with shining rubies upon its hilt. “Oh, that is some bull...” Matthew whispered to himself, before clenching his right hand into  a fist. It glowed with magical energies, and before long a blue rapier had appeared. Bill registered that it was made of Cursed Ice. Matthew clasped it in his hand. “Just my luck that the person between me and my goals is someone I liked.” “Feeling’s mutual.” Bill confessed, feeling the weight of the sword in his hand, before pointing it at Matthew. “Last chance, mate, because I really don’t want to do this. We can leave the Vault and everything that’s happened in it.”

“I’m sorry, Bill. I can’t let things go on this way any longer. Besides, I’ve already defeated one older brother today...what’s one more? Engarde!”

[aseriesofunfortunatetexts]

Frank/Beatrice, unrequited?

I couldn’t manage it exactly (I assume this was a request for the AU meme), because I don’t really see them as anything but a wonderful brotp, but I did produce something. Something that exceeds three sentences by... quite a bit. It’s 2000 words.

I put it on AO3 too, in case you’d prefer to read it there. Enjoy!

***

Ernest can move very silently - when he wants to, that is. Usually his modus operandi is to start talking while he is approaching you, let people know he’s coming to put them at ease even before letting his affable demeanor do the rest. It works surprisingly well, even with members of the VFD, who really ought to know better than to fall for that rather simple technique.

But tonight Ernest allows the music and chatter of the hotel ballroom to drown out the sound of his swift footsteps, which is why Frank only notices him when he appears behind Frank’s left shoulder, leaning in and speaking in his ear, just loud enough to be heard over all the noise; “She’s looking quite radiant this evening, isn’t she?”

Frank doesn’t jump, but that’s only due to his years of training, training that drilled into him the importance of not showing the sort of weakness you show when being outwardly startled by something. If they think they can surprise you and you’ll be alarmed by that, it gives your opponent the upper hand.

So Frank remains perfectly still and keeps his expression carefully blank while Ernest moves to stand by his side, where he can observe Frank better, making it easier for him to tailor his words for maximum effect if Frank shows even a modicum of emotion. He decides not to give his brother the pleasure tonight.

Now for an equally pressing issue; what the hell Ernest is talking about. Frank had been idly watching the crowd from his position at the edge of the bar, and while his eyes did have a tendency to land on a particular gentleman, that doesn’t warrant… oh. Ernest thinks he’s been looking at the man’s dance partner.

To be fair, out of the two of them, who wouldn’t be looking a Beatrice?

Frank almost smiles when he realizes the extent of his brother’s miscalculation. But only almost. He needs to decide how to respond, and the obvious choice is to confirm Ernest’s own suspicions to draw him off the scent and keep Frank’s secret carefully protected.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” he says, keeping his tone neutral.

Ernest does what anyone would do and takes that denial as solid confirmation that he is correct. “You can’t take your eyes off her, Frank, and you’re not being subtle.”

That much is becoming obvious, and he’s lucky that Ernest is making false assumptions based on who would be more likely to be the center of anyone’s attention, otherwise Frank would be in trouble.

He still might be, he realizes, when Ernest raises his hand and calls out “Beatrice!” loud enough to be heard from the dancefloor.

Beatrice does look radiant tonight, in a deep red ballgown that sways along with her when she waltzes across the floor, and when she sharply turns her head in their direction, her dark curls bounce, a visually appealing sight. When she locates them, she immediately turns to her dance partner and whispers something in his ear. He kisses the back of her hand and lets her go. As she approaches the two brothers, her smile grows increasingly bright, even when she’s aiming it at Ernest.

“Good evening, gentlemen,” she says once she has reached them. “You throw quite the party.”

Frank allows himself a reaction, the hint of a smile, because he actually did a lot of the planning and he is a little bit proud of the results, but mostly it’s to keep up the charade.

As he hoped, Ernest sees the change in his expression and misinterprets it once more, and out of the corner of his eye Frank can see him beaming, practically shaking with excitement at what he thinks is a surefire way to gain a new advantage over his brother.

 “My brother might be a bore most of the time, but he knows the theory behind casual human interaction and enjoyment at least,” Ernest says, “And sometimes that’s enough to plan a great party.”

 Frank lets his face darken a little at the casual insult just to keep Ernest thinking he’s winning this game.

 And he must be quite confident that he is, because he goes straight for the jugular next; “You look stunning tonight, Beatrice.” He turns to his brother. “Don’t you think so, Frank?”

 God, he is so predictable. If he didn’t know any better, Frank would think it was all a clever double bluff of some sort, rather than a serious attempt to humiliate him and make him uncomfortable.

 At least he knows how Ernest expect him to react – defensively - and he might as well give him the pleasure. “Quite,” he says, tilting his chin up a little to appear haughty.

 Beatrice purses her lips to keep from smiling, and then immediately loses the struggle and grins anyway. “Such a charmer,” she teases.

 Ernest laughs, delighted. The would-be puppet master, always so proud of his work, to the point where he doesn’t even think to stop and consider the validity of his theories once in a while.

 “Would you care to dance, Frank?” Beatrice asks, and for a moment Frank just stares at her. He hasn’t had the time to consider what game Beatrice is currently playing, and it’s disturbing his equilibrium to a worrisome degree.

 “Of course he would,” Ernest replies for him, voice laced with amusement, “He loves dancing.”

 Frank hates dancing, and everybody knows it, Beatrice included, so it is extremely frustrating when she holds out her hand in invitation. Frank considers scowling and refusing, but then remembers that he’s supposed to be secretly, tragically in love with her, and takes her hand.

 He knows how to dance, of course, they all learned the usual ballroom dances during their training. Frank happens to be quite good at it too, he just doesn’t enjoy dancing in public. Not like Beatrice, who is so eager that she’s constantly in danger of taking the lead from him.

 As soon as Frank has his hand on her waist, she leans into him and whispers in his ear, “Is he watching?”

 Frank smoothly twirls them around to the music, checking. “He is.”

 Beatrice snorts, “He’s dumber than he looks,” she says, “We might as well take advantage?”

 She’s right, so Frank pulls her closer to his body, much closer than is expected in a classic waltz. “He thinks it’s unrequited,” he tells her.

 Beatrice chuckles, finally beginning to let Frank lead for real. “Should I play into that?”

 “Would you be rude enough to look uncomfortable to be near me, if you thought I was in love with you and you didn’t return my feelings?” Frank asks.

 “Of course not,” Beatrice replies, “I’m not a monster.”

 “Then you should probably act like you’re politely playing along.”

 “We should be cheek to cheek,” Beatrice announces. “Feel free to subtly smell my hair.”

 He does so once they are turned around so Ernest can see the gesture. It smells nice, he distantly notes.

 They keep dancing until the song starts to wind down, and which point Beatrice orders him, “dip me,” and Frank does as he’s told, carefully supporting her as she leans back in an elegant arch.

 The music ends and scattered applause breaks out while the band takes the time to bow before starting the next song. Frank slowly becomes aware that a lot more eyes are on them than he’d expected, and his gut-reaction is to quickly let go of Beatrice and step back. It’s what he would do if he was secretly in love with her and didn’t want people to know, which is probably why Beatrice, always the actress, allows it.

 “Should we get you a drink?” she asks breezily.

 “Please.”

 Ernest is standing right where they left him, at the bar, and he has apparently ordered drinks for them, because Larry is already putting down glasses when they approach. The waiter gives Frank a meaningful look, then reaches for the bottle of their most expensive scotch and pours him a double. Beatrice gets the same.

 He sure that this is Larry’s attempt to help him keep up the act, he’s too observant to fall for it like Ernest is. Frank grabs the glass and knocks back the drink in a couple of mouthfuls, very aware of Ernest’s eyes still on him.

 “Mind if I claim this next dance?” he asks Beatrice while smiling slyly at Frank.

 Beatrice inclines her head gracefully. “Of course.”

 Ernest holds out his arm and Beatrice accepts it, letting him lead her onto the floor without looking back at Frank. An excellent move on her part, Frank thinks.

 He sees Bertrand coming, and even if he hadn’t, Bertrand is already talking as soon as he’s in earshot, “Good evening, Frank,” he greets pleasantly. “What was all that about?”

 Frank sighs. “Ernest thinks I’m in love with your wife.”

 Bertrand laughs, actually laughs. “Oh dear,” he eventually manages. “That’s tragic.”

 “Very tragic,” Frank agrees, eyeing Bertrand warily. He isn’t entirely sure whether Bertrand knows yet, and he doesn’t want to show his cards too soon.

 “To be fair, you were watching us quite intently,” Bertrand teases. “You can’t blame him for making some assumptions.”

 “I suppose not.”

 Bertrand smiles gently at him. “She looks beautiful tonight... -”

 “She looks beautiful every night,” Frank points out.

 Bertrand ignores him. “And I look very handsome in this tux,” he finishes.

 At this point Frank desperately wants another drink, but he probably shouldn’t be clouding his judgement further. “That you do,” he admits instead, a giant leap of faith that he normally wouldn’t make, but Bertrand is still smiling and moving a little closer to him, sliding right into his personal space.

 “Do I get a dance as well?” he asks, partially joking, partially outright flirtatious.

 Frank swallows and tries to keep his expression neutral. “I don’t think that would be the best idea.”

 Bertrand has the audacity to look disappointed before he looks understanding. “Keeping up appearances, as always.”

 “Some of us has to,” Frank says.

 For a moment Bertrand’s reaction borders on pity, but then a small smile tugs at the corner of his lips. “Come with me,” he says, and starts walking away without looking back to check if Frank is following him.

 Frank follows.

 Bertrand leads them to the edge of the ballroom and ducks under the velvet rope stretched across the stairs leading to the rear mezzanine, which Ernest had decided to close off for the night, probably to avoid too many areas where people could linger, scan the crowd, and have secret conversations. Tonight is supposed to be about having fun after all.

 There’s no light up here, so as long as they keep away from the edge, they’re hidden in shadow. That’s definitely the only reason why Frank allows Bertrand to place one hand on his hip, grab his hand with the other, and pull him flush up against him. Frank lets him lead them in a slow dance that doesn’t quite match the tempo of the song the band is playing below, but no one can see them anyway, no one will judge, so Frank follows without protest. Neither does he object when Bertrand gently leans into him until they’re cheek to cheek, or when Bertrand kisses him soon after.

 It’s a bit unlike Bertrand to be so forward, Frank think, as he is pressed back against the wall, but he isn’t about to complain, not with Bertrand’s lips dragging down his neck, along his jaw, finally meeting Frank’s in another heated kiss. It’s nice. More than nice.

 He sighs in disappointment when Bertrand breaks the kiss, vaguely noticing that this song is ending too. More applause from the crowd, and for a second Frank irrationally worries that someone has seen them.

 “Don’t worry. We’re perfectly safe up here.” Bertrand whispers when he notices Frank tensing.

 ‘Until my nosy brother starts looking for us’, Frank thinks, but he doesn’t say anything, mostly because Bertrand is running his fingers through his hair now, digging his fingers into Frank’s scalp and guiding him into another kiss.

 At some point Bertrand briefly lets up, only to murmur, “Hey, Frank?”

 “Yes?”

 He feels Bertrand smile against this cheek. “Happy birthday.”

[rosapeachhogwartsmystery]

I could really use a hug right now (Reader x Barnaby Lee)

Masterlist  (To view my Masterlist, visit my Tumblr page)

Words: 1.7k

Summary: Everything you did or said seemed to be wrong... No one seemed to understand how you were feeling at all. You felt alone and lost and decided to just avoid everyone. Just when you thought you were alone, someone came over to you.

A/N: Sorry, it is a bit short...

_______________________________________________________

You didn’t know what to do anymore. You were tired and felt so lost. Nothing seemed to make sense and you just couldn’t let go of it. You tried to act like you always did, but for how long could you keep up the act? Could you continue the day with a smile on your face all day and just forget about what happened for one second? Could you live up to everyone’s expectations? You were Y/N Y/L/N, the sibling of the infamous Jacob Y/L/N, you were used to unusual situations, right?

If only you could just live up to everyone’s expectations… You weren’t going to be able to just forget what happened and continue like nothing happened. How could you? The reunion with your brother was really difficult… Did he really expect you not to be cautious just because you were related…? After everything that happened, how could you just trust your intuition? Of course, you have seen your brother a few more times, but he always seemed to bring up the fact you were hesitant to immediately help him…

With the Statue Curse around, your friends began to act strange… Penny kept trying to involve you when she and her sister had an argument. You couldn’t help it but to side with Beatrice, considering the girl had gone through a traumatic experience. That probably didn’t help your friendship with Penny… Besides Penny, Charlie began accusing you of bringing danger around and Ben was trying to protect you, making some questionable decisions… You couldn’t help it but to feel hurt. Your friends didn’t seem to understand you.

Despite everything, you tried to keep going, hoping working on the Cursed Vaults would distract you from feeling bad. Although, it seemed like some of your friends were kind of wondering why you didn’t seem to spend a lot of time with them. It was like everything you did was wrong at this point. It made you want to avoid them even more. You didn’t want to trouble anyone. Besides, it wasn’t like they were asking if you were okay either. It was lonely to be alone with these dark and sad feelings you were experiencing lately. You felt like you couldn’t ask for help either… You would just have to carry this burden a bit longer…

 You were currently sitting alone somewhere on the Castle Grounds, just staring at nothing. It was probably better than going to the more public places of the Castle. You didn’t want to deal with anyone and hoped no one would approach you now. If only your Hogwarts years were different… Perhaps if Jacob didn’t go looking for the Cursed Vaults, you wouldn’t be in this mess… Although, you would probably not have made the same friends you have grown to love.

Even though you were having trouble now, didn’t mean you stopped caring for your friends. It was quite the opposite. You loved your friends that much that you didn’t want to bother them anymore. You felt like they deserved a better friend than you… You were only going to disappoint them, right?

 “Y/N?”

 You were slightly startled when you noticed someone was calling your name. You quickly turned into the direction where you heard the voice calling from.

“Barnaby?” You said softly, wondering why he came over to you.

“It’s been a while.” He said with a small smile. “You weren’t avoiding me were you.”

You felt a lump in your throat, not sure what to say. It wasn’t like you were avoiding him in particular, but you have been avoiding him like all your other friends. You just fixed your gaze on the ground, not sure if you could keep looking at him.

Barnaby frowned and then he slowly sat down next to you. “Y/N, is something wrong?”

“… No, there isn’t something wrong.” You mumbled, looking away.

“Then what is bothering you...? You can’t tell me it’s nothing.”

You shook your head. “It isn’t something… Everything is wrong…”

He had a surprised expression on his face, tilting his head a bit. “Everything…? That’s quite a lot…”

“You don’t say…”

“Maybe you could talk about it…? It will probably help a little to just talk about it.”

You let out a bitter laugh. “You will only judge me for it anyways…”

“What…? No, of course not! Why would I judge you for telling me what has been bothering you?” He looked slightly hurt.

“… See, it is already making you feel bad and I have barely said anything.” You muttered, beginning to hug your knees.

  Barnaby began to look concerned. “Y/N… You should tell me what is on your mind… I promise I won’t judge if that’s what you are concerned about. I mean, it’s not like I easily judge others for what they say.”

“… All right. Don’t get mad, all right… I don’t think I would be able to handle it now...” You said softly, barely able to look at Barnaby.

“Don’t worry about it… Just tell me what is on your mind.”

 _____________

 “Everything I say or do seems to go wrong… No one seems to understand my reasoning nor care about how I feel about the situation…” You said with a sigh when finished telling Barnaby what was going wrong.

Barnaby just stared at the grass, feeling a lump in his own throat now. How could he not have noticed you seemed to bottle up all your feelings? No one had asked how you were doing lately, everyone seemed too busy with their own stuff and problems. You had been smiling for their sake, considerate of how they were feeling. Heck, you even let them get angry with you, because they didn’t understand your perspective of things. You had been hurt by them and yet you didn’t say anything about it.

You hugged your knees tighter, not feeling better after talking about this. Actually, you were feeling like you were about to cry.

“Y/N… I’m so sorry…”

You looked up at Barnaby slightly surprised. “What are you sorry about…?”

“Well… I didn’t see what was going on… I didn’t see you were hurt by our actions…” Barnaby began, looking sad. “I feel bad for not being more considerate and aware of your situation… You have been there listening to our problems and even tried to help, but we have never… We have never asked if you needed someone to help you…!”

 You could swear you saw tears in Barnaby’s eyes. It made it even harder to fight back your own tears. “D…don’t blame yourself for this… I-I mean, you guys have helped me out a lot with the Cursed Vaults and-”

“I wasn’t talking about help with the Cursed Vaults...! I was talking about helping you! M-more personally, you know? Like a friend should do...? You needed us and… and we didn’t offer you any help!” Barnaby was definitely crying at this point; he couldn’t hold back the tears.

The tears began to roll down your face as well. “B-Barnaby… Really… You don’t need to blame yourself for this…”

Barnaby looked into your eyes. “I’m so sorry…!”

You shook your head, unable to keep yourself from sobbing at this point. He just pulled you into a tight hug. You were just crying against him, not being able to stop because you have bottled up your feelings for too long. Barnaby was silently crying as well, unable to stop crying because he didn’t like seeing you cry at all.

 After a while, the crying mostly stopped. You let out an occasional sob, resting your head against Barnaby.

“I’m s-sorry for crying so much… I-… I didn’t mean to make you feel bad too…” You said very softly.

Barnaby shook his head a bit. “Don’t apologise for crying…. Really, I am glad you told me.”

“Even though I made you cry too…?”

“Of course… I can… I can be quite easily influenced emotionally to be honest…” He said honestly. “Seeing you so down and hearing how you felt… I just couldn’t help it but to feel really awful…. I wished I had seen it sooner.”

“… You were the first one who asked me what was wrong.” You said softly. “No one else had come up to me to ask me how I was doing… Even before I was avoiding everyone.”

“I understand… However, I still wish I could have seen it sooner… It’s not healthy to bottle up your feelings like that.”

“I know… I just didn’t want to bother anyone…”

“It’s not a bother to talk to others about how you are feeling. Especially since things got more serious… And your brother being out of the painting and all…”

“Jacob definitely didn’t make it feel better at all…” You said honestly.

 “Y/N… If you feel like you need someone to be there for you, know that I am willing to be there. Just like you have been there for me.” He said honestly.

“Thank you, Barnaby…”

 _____________

 Barnaby was walking around the Corridors. He just walked out of the Great Hall after having some sandwiches. It had been a while since you had told him how you were feeling lately. He couldn’t help it but to keep an extra eye on you. He didn’t want to miss anymore signs about you feeling bad… He wanted to be there for you when you were feeling down again.

He looked around a little and suddenly spotted you. He kept his eyes on you and he could tell your eyes were on him as well. He didn’t expect you to rush over to him. Before he knew it, you had your arms around him, your face buried against him. It was obvious, he was surprised by your action, but he slowly wrapped his arms around you as well.

“I’m sorry… I really felt like I needed hug….” You said softly when you looked up at him.

“Of course.” He said with a small smile. “Should we go somewhere more comfortable?”

You nodded lightly, slowly letting of him. He began leading the way to a more comfortable place, keeping an arm around you the entire time.

Barnaby wasn’t going to let you bottle up your feelings ever again.

[juliandev0rak]

From the get to know my character questionnaire, 1 for all of them (bc I know you named stella after alcohol but i wanna know about the rest lmao), and 7 and 27... also for all of them? i just love them all, hit me with the lore. —leila-of-ravens

ahh thank you for asking about all of them I have way too much fun writing character lore 💗💗💗 @leila-of-ravens

from these asks

these will inevitably get long so I’m putting the answers under the cut!

01. What does your character’s name mean? Did you pick it for the symbolism, or did you just like the way it sounded?

Beatrice

Beatrice started off as a self insert character so I gave her my name and started playing the Arcana as “Bea”, but I soon decided I wanted to make her much cooler than I am lol, so I changed a lot of her personality and named her the longer version of Bea, Beatrice. I also love the name because it reminds me of Beatrice, Dante’s muse in Dante’s Inferno. He travelled through all of the levels of hell to rescue her and it just seemed to fit with the story of the Arcana. Long story short, I sort of named her after me lol.

I chose her last name Viano from googling “Italian last names” and choosing the one I liked the sound of best lol, there’s no deep meaning for that. 

Freya

I named her Freya because I love the name, but after looking up its meaning I felt it fit her really well. It’s a name from Norse origins and means “a noble woman”, and Freya’s whole aesthetic was built off of her being very dignified and elegant. She’s the type of person you’d expect to be nobility, even if she isn’t.

Aster

I googled “space names” because I wanted her to be star inspired and found the name “Astra” which means “of the stars” in Latin. I decided to go for Aster instead because I love the way it sounds. I also like how similar it sounds to Asra, I just think it’s cute that they have similar names lol. 

I decided not to give her a last name because I couldn’t find one I liked, and because I thought it would be an interesting part of her background. She doesn’t remember her family at all, and that includes not even knowing her own last name. 

Cam

I chose the name Camellia because I had the idea of all of Cam’s siblings being named after plants because they grew up on a farm. Camellias are one of my favorite flowers, and I like the way it can be shortened to Cam. Cam is nonbinary and basically defines their gender as “whatever feels right in the moment” lol, so having a name that can be less overtly feminine, like Cam, was important to me. I think both their full name and their nickname really suit them!  

Their last name is Giardini which means “gardens” in Italian, I chose it because it goes along with the gardening / farming theme of their background.

Stella

I know I’ve explained this before but here’s the full story: It was a Friday evening in August, I poured myself a glass of Stella Rosa Black, my favorite red wine, and started playing Lucio’s route for the first time. I knew I wanted to make a new oc for his route because Beatrice would really hate Lucio, so the idea of Stella was born. I just thought it would be funny to have a character based off of alcohol, who lived at a vineyard, and I think the name Stella is very pretty. 

Willa

I debated naming her Willow for a while because I wanted her to have a nature themed name, but I decided I like the sound of Willa better. It’s a sort of delicate sounding name which fits her. I chose her last name Clary because Willa is Irish-coded (because of course, there’s no Ireland in the game lol), and I thought it sounded good with her first name!

07. Is there a catchphrase or sound that they tend to make a lot (likely without being aware of it)?

Beatrice

“Oh dear” is basically her catch phrase, she doesn’t curse much so it’s kind of her go to “oh no” phrase if something goes wrong. 

Freya

She has a very particular sigh that basically means she’s annoyed, she tries to keep her composure in front of people at all times so her annoyed sigh is the only sign she actively hates whoever she’s talking to.

Aster

She curses pretty much constantly but she throws in all sort of non-curse words, for example while fighting the Devil she turned to Asra and said “Fucking gumdrops my dude, this sucks!” which, although confusing, did make sense in the moment. She also says “oh worm” a lot ever since she heard Vlastomil say it. 

Cam

They have a very distinctive laugh which usually turns into snorts if they’re laughing super hard, which is pretty much always. 

Stella

She rolls her eyes a lot and says things like “Oh sure..” in a sarcastic tone of voice under her breath. You can’t blame her, she is dating Lucio after all which means she has to deal with him, and the courtiers, more than any one person should have to. 

Willa

Willa prides herself on being an “active listener” which means that if you’re telling her something she’ll be nodding her head and saying “Uh hu” to let you know that she’s listening. She also calls everyone “sweetie”.

27. If your character was going to get arrested, what would be the most likely reason for it?

Beatrice

“I would probably be arrested for aiding and abetting fugitives. I’ve met a lot of people at the Rowdy Raven who are supposed to be behind bars- but I’ll never tell.” 

Freya

“Tax evasion, money laundering, insider stock trading.. these are just examples of crimes not ones I’ve committed. I refuse to discuss this more without a lawyer present.” 

Aster

“It would probably be for the time I let all of the palace horses loose in the city streets.. or maybe when I accidentally set a building on fire.. or maybe from the time I helped pirates smuggle in certain illegal goods.. well let’s just say it’s a good thing Nadia granted me immunity :) ”  

Cam

“Hmmmm.. I stole a book once when I was a teenager, it was way overpriced and the merchant was super rude so I just took it when he wasn’t looking. The guilt has haunted me ever since...”

Stella

“I broke into Valerius’ house last weekend. It was for a valid reason, he stole something from my brother and I needed to get it back. Valerius called the guards but I just portalled out of there, he knows it was me but he can’t prove anything...” 

Willa

“I smuggled all of the vampire eels out of the city, they weren’t happy living in the canals! They need open water to thrive, everyone knows that!” 

[carewyncromwell]

[Later that day, Carewyn met up with Charlie in the library, prepared to study for Transfiguration and History of Magic. The first had always been Carewyn’s most difficult class, while the second had always been Charlie’s, so they’d decided it would be good to help each other through those two subjects.

When Carewyn arrived, however, Charlie looked upon her with concern etched into his face.]

[Carewyn's eyebrows knit together. So he’d heard about that already...]

“...Technically Beatrice discovered him. She asked Snape to show me what had happened.”

[She took note of the other people in the library, who seemed to have been sneaking glances at her and Charlie.]

“...Does everybody know?”

Charlie: “(somberly) It’s all the school can talk about. The prevailing theory is that it’s another curse.”

[He kept an eye on his friend’s expression. Carewyn could sense that he was worried about her reaction.

She glanced away restlessly.]

“That’s what Snape believes too...meaning that the student will only be saved when the curse on the last Vault is broken.”

[Her eyes narrowed upon the edge of the bookcase a foot away.]

“... He said that the Aurors would be notified when I spoke to him, so I daresay they know by now. All we can hope for now is that they’re more efficient in breaking that curse than I was in breaking the other ones.”

[This sentiment felt like poison coming out of her mouth, as Carewyn truthfully had no intention of just sitting back and trusting others to handle things -- particularly when Mad-Eye Moody had flat-out told her he needed her to continue dealing with the Vaults while he pursued R -- but...]

Charlie knows me. He knows that it’d be frustrating for me, not to be able to help. I can’t let him dwell too long on why I’m not helping. And, well...it’s not completely untrue. How much faster could the Aurors or the teachers have saved Beatrice, if they’d been half as focused as I was...?

[Carewyn’s backhanded critique of herself made Charlie’s expression morph into something much harder, more reproachful.]

Charlie: “Oi!”

[He came forward and grabbed both of Carewyn’s shoulders.]

Charlie: “None of that. I will hear none of that, you hear? You put all of yourself and then some into breaking those curses and saving your brother -- it’d be hard for anyone to do what you did. Hell, you dueled against a bloody Hungarian Horntail -- and won! The Aurors and Cursebreakers at the Ministry would be lucky to have you on their side.”

[Carewyn was startled by Charlie’s conviction. The fierceness in his brown eyes flickered slightly, revealing something a bit more vulnerable as he released her shoulers.]

Charlie: “...Carey...I admit, I was a little upset when you told us you didn’t want to go after the Vaults anymore. It just felt like...well, you’d lost faith in yourself, a bit. Like you’d lost some of your fire.”

[The words crystallized over Carewyn’s heart like ice.]

“Charlie...”

[The second youngest Weasley pushed on despite her interjection, a bit more gently.]

Charlie: “But after what we went through...I can’t blame you. Returning to normal, after Rakepick betrayed us and left us for dead in that Vault, it’s...hard. I thought going back to school and seeing you all again would help, but...well, I couldn’t expect you to carry on like nothing’s changed. It was stupid of me to think you would -- selfish of me...”

[Carewyn’s eyebrows came together tightly over her eyes as she grabbed tight hold of one of Charlie’s shoulders in return.]

“Don’t say that. You are the furthest thing from selfish, Charlie. And you’re not stupid either. It’s not wrong to want things to be better than they are.”

Anyone would wish everything could go back to the way it was -- when things were simpler...

[Charlie gave Carewyn a slight, sad smile, but he seemed comforted all the same. He took hold of Carewyn’s opposite shoulder and squeezed it, so that the two were sharing an abridged sort of hug.]

Charlie: “...Guess we really are two of a kind, aren’t we?”

[Carewyn’s eyes softened as she gave Charlie a brave smile.]

“Cromwell-Weasley twins?”

[Charlie’s face broke out into a fuller white smile and he gave a low chuckle.]

Charlie: “Cromwell-Weasley twins. (thoughtfully) We might want to find a snappier way to say that, though. ‘Charlie and Carey?’ ‘Red and Green?’ ‘Twins from Another Mother?’”

[Carewyn laughed.]

“We’ll work on it.”

Percy: “I should hope you’re working on a lot more than just nicknames.”

[Charlie’s younger brother, Percy, had arrived, his arms crossed over his chest.]

Charlie: “Percy? I didn’t know you followed me.”

Percy: “I did -- to make sure you’re not shirking your studies like you did your responsibilities all summer. Honestly, it’s bad enough I have to babysit the twins now that they’ve started at Hogwarts -- I didn’t think I’d also have to tell my Prefect older brother to keep his mind on school. What would Bill say if he knew?”

Charlie: “(lowly) He’d sympathize with what I’m going through.”

Percy: “Bill was betrayed by Rakepick too: that hasn’t stopped him from fulfilling his duties at Gringotts. You should follow his example -- ”

[Sensing the tension between Charlie and Percy, Carewyn decided to step in.]

“How is Bill liking Gringotts? I got a letter from his new address, so I know he’s left the Burrow, but he didn’t go into much detail.”

[That was a bold-faced lie: she and Bill had exchanged several long letters that summer. It had been one of the few comforts Carewyn had, in the face of Jacob’s renewed absence. But she knew talking about Bill and Gringotts would be a good way to divert focus off of Charlie.]

Percy: “Quite well -- Bill can’t go into a lot of detail about his assignments, given that Gringotts requires a certain level of confidentiality, but his superiors have been impressed by his work ethic.”

“As they should. Bill’s always been a hard worker.”

[She turned to Charlie.]

“That reminds me -- Charlie, could you grab a few books from the section for History of Magic over there, for our study session? I reckon some stuff on Wendelin the Weird and the witch burnings’ll be good..”

[She’d been speaking quickly, clearly wanting to subtly brush Percy off by making it look like they were getting busy. Charlie, picking up on Carewyn’s intent, shot her a smile over his shoulder as he swept over to the bookshelves.]

Charlie: “Sure.”

[Carewyn herself picked out some Transfiguration books off the shelf, as well as a book titled An Examination of Historic Prophecies. She could still feel Percy’s critical eye on her as she set her pile of textbooks down on one of the tables.]

Percy: “(his arms still crossed) Studying Divination?”

[Carewyn realized too late that the Divination book had ended up on the top of her stack.]

“Oh! (dismissively) No, actually -- Trelawney gave a weird prophecy in class, so I just thought I’d read up on it a bit -- “

[Carewyn cursed her luck. She hadn’t wanted Charlie to hear that.]

“Yeah -- it was really awkward, actually. She just sort of stopped in front of me and started babbling to no one about murky water and ‘endings’ and other nonsense. Then she sort of looked at me and said the vision was gone and wouldn’t explain.”

[Despite Carewyn’s best efforts, Charlie looked concerned. To her surprise, however, Percy also seemed interested.]

Percy: “What did Professor Trelawney say, exactly?”

[Carewyn blinked at Percy. The third-year Weasley boy’s ears turned pink.]

Percy: “I read a few books on Divination over the summer -- I think it’s a very engaging subject!”

[Although she felt some faint misgivings about Charlie being able to hear all this, Carewyn decided it couldn’t hurt to hear what Percy thought.]

I’ll just have to play it off, like I don’t care.

“...Let’s see, ah...she said she saw ‘murky water’ in my future -- though we were reading tea leaves, so Tonks suggested she might’ve meant the tea. Then she said...‘changes swirling around you’...‘endings, final endings’...‘prices to pay’...‘the ultimate price.’“

[Charlie looked very disturbed.]

Charlie: “That does sound ominous...but Trelawney’s prophecies are supposed to be notoriously incorrect, aren’t they? Do you reckon this one’s real?”

[Carewyn scoffed.]

“No. But I am curious why she would make up those things at all -- I thought maybe reading up on prophecies could give me a hint.”

[Percy brought a hand up to his chin thoughtfully.]

Percy: “Perhaps...but everything I’ve read about prophecies suggests there are usually more details than this. So much of what you heard could be interpreted in multiple ways.”

[Carewyn nodded. She had thought so as well.]

“Maybe Madame Pince would have some suggestions of books that could help?”

George: “I wouldn’t go near her right now if I were you.”

Fred: “She’s in a right foul mood.”

[Carewyn turned. Two identical-looking ginger-haired first years wearing Gryffindor tie had come up to join them.]

Fred: “(innocently) Nothing! Just thought we’d introduce ourselves to the school librarian is all -- ”

George: “(sniggering) “ -- by helping her ‘reorganize’ a few Library shelves.”

[Charlie rolled his eyes up toward the ceiling. Carewyn raised her eyebrows.]

“Ah, the infamous Weasley twins. Fred and George, right? We met briefly over Christmas break once a while back, but you were both sick in bed.”

Fred: “Ugh -- bloody awful headache, that was. My head felt like it was full of pea soup for a week.”

George: “Mine felt more like beef stew. (sighs) Anyway -- love to stay and chat, but I have detention.”

Percy: “(appalled) The year’s barely started, and you’re already in detention!?”

[The twins ignored him.]

Fred: “Sorry, George -- I’ll take the blame next time, promise.”

Percy: “ ‘Next time?!’”

George: “(laughing) I’ll hold you to that, Fred!”

[With that, George headed out of the Library.]

“It’s too bad George had to leave so soon. It was nice to finally meet you -- formally, of course.”

Charlie: “Fred!”

Fred: “(laughing) Kidding! Though Bill and Charlie have both said you’ve got good pipes. And of course I’ve heard all about your adventures with the Cursed Vaults -- though I was mostly interested in hearing about all the tricks you’ve pulled around school!”

[Carewyn’s lips curled up in a smirk.]

Percy: “(snorts) That’s putting it mildly.”

“Well...just remember, Fred, I’m a Prefect, same as your brother. I don’t mind trouble as long as no one gets hurt -- but it’s harder for me to overlook things if they happen right under my nose.”

[Fred raised his eyebrows daringly.]

Fred: “So you’re fine with us causing trouble as long as we don’t get caught?”

[Carewyn crossed her arms, but her smirk didn’t shift.]

“Sure...but that includes not getting caught by me. And I’m not easy to fool.”

Fred: “(laughs) Challenge accepted!”

[Percy looked scandalized.]

Percy: “Carewyn! Prefects are supposed to protect the rules, not encourage -- “

Charlie: “(laughs) Calm down, Percy -- Carey takes the rules seriously. She doesn’t even let Tulip and Tonks get off scot-free, if their pranks hurt anybody.”

[Still looking miffed, Percy decided there was no point in arguing and so forcefully changed the subject.]

Percy: “Ahem -- I’m glad you’ve met...but now Charlie, Fred, and I need to study.”

[Fred scowled.]

Fred: “Yes, Mum.”

[Percy ignored him, turning back to Carewyn.]

Percy: “I know you don’t hold stock in what Professor Trelawney said to you, Carewyn, but I’d say you should be careful, all the same. I don’t think you’re going to find much meaning from it, though.”

[Percy shooed Fred off to the other end of the library, leaving Charlie and Carewyn alone at their table. Charlie and Carewyn spent the next hour studying Transfiguration and History of Magic, the book Carewyn had pulled out on Divination left forgotten on the side.

Carewyn thought Percy might be right. A book might not have any answers -- but perhaps a centaur might...]

((OOC: ^.^ I do love my Weasley boys very much, yes, I do. Even you, Percy, you right stick-in-the-mud. Also, the “singing” comment by Fred really did make me laugh so hard, given that Carewyn totally does sing when she thinks she’s alone! And also when music is playing, or she’s in her Animagus form, or when she wants to cheer someone up, or...yeah, she just likes to sing, period. XD

Next up -- checking in with Torvus!))

[nelllraiser]

the art of needling your sisters | bea, luce, and nell

LOCATION: ink inc. PARTIES: @beatrice-blaze, @divineluce and @nelllraiser. SUMMARY: sister tattoos.  TATTOO PIC: here. (designed by finn, and a little nsfw so just be wary of some light boob action in the pic)

Driving into The Bend, Luce patted her hands against the steering wheel as she eased her way through one of the sharper turns towards the shop. It had been a long day of moving her things out of her beautiful, wonderful, fantastic cabin and in with Bea and Nell. And, honestly? She was over it. Super over it. She didn’t totally get why Mom had been so insistent on the three of them living together. Sure, there was a witch hunter around town, but Luce lived out in the woods. It was far enough away from others that she’d felt zero guilt about putting down wards so powerful they’d blow a zombie to smithereens. Anyone who decided to poke around her cabin when she didn’t want them would have had quite the time. But… here she was. And that’s why all three of them were here. Turning into the parking lot of Ink Inc., Luce turned to look at Nell and Bea. “Right. So. Mom said I have to live with you guys now because of… craziness. But, I had a couple conditions. Which includes,” She jerked a thumb over her shoulder to the illuminated storefront, “Bring your sisters to work day. Fun activities included.”

Nell didn’t know where Luce was taking them, but she hadn’t really questioned it when her and Bea had been herded into the car. It’d been...a while since all three of them had been in the same place at once, and she was excited to be in the same spot with both her sisters. It was just...better when they were together, even if her and Bea were on unstable ground at the moment, it felt right when it was the three of them. So she’d been thrilled when the news had come about Luce moving in, even if her sister hadn’t been all that happy to leave her cabin. A wide grin was quick to spread over her lips as she took in the sign Luce had indicated, and her seatbelt was already being undone in her readiness to get this show on the road. “Oh, hell yes. Fun activities?! As in….tattoos?”

As much as Bea didn’t blame their mom for making Luce move in with them, the eldest Vural was beginning to feel a bit cramped in her own home. Between the sisters and their pets the quiet escape that the house was meant to bring Bea was slowly disappearing. Still, she decided to grin and bear it, unwilling to disappoint their mother by asking if she could treat her adult daughters as actual adults. “I am not getting a tattoo. I don’t like needles, Luce. You know this.” She didn’t hate the way they looked, but she had gotten pierced multiple times already and she wasn’t look for any more reason to be stabbed by needles. “Tattoos are super pretty but they are not for me. I don’t want to have more pain than usual.”

Stepping out of her car, Luce rolled her eyes at Nell’s comment. “No, you’re here to sweep the floors. Yeah, we’re going to get tattoos.” She said as she headed towards the shop. Turning around to watch her sisters’ responses, she couldn’t help but laugh. Typical. This was exactly how it used to go when they were kids-- Nell would want to do one thing, Bea would want something else and she’d be stuck watching them butt heads. This time, though, it was her call. Which was honestly kinda nice. “You can get it small, don’t worry about it. I already drew up a design and I think you’ll like it. Besides, there are places where it wouldn’t hurt as much.” She explained. Walking up the sidewalk to the shop, she opened the door and waited for the other two to follow her inside.

Luce earned a quick eyeroll in return from Nell, but she was in much too high of spirits to say anything particularly snarky back at the moment, buzzing with excitement as she padded after her sister to the shop. But of course Bea was going to be a buzzkill about this, or at least try to be. “Okay I hate needles too-” Just the thought of them made a little shiver go down Nell’s spine. “But tattoos are different. You can’t see the little baby needles, so it’s like they’re not even really going in.” Nell was bouncing once again at the mention of a design, impatiently asking Luce, “What is it? I wanna see!” No doubt she was already getting on her sisters’ nerves, but she was simply too thrilled at the prospect of hanging out all together, and getting a tattoo. “So we’re all gonna match?”

It took Bea a moment to drag herself out of the car and after her sisters. She didn’t want to be the person who spoiled their fun and it had been a long time since they had actually bonded over something. Still, the idea of ink being injected into her skin made her feel slightly nauseous. She didn’t even want to think about how her body was going to react to the sudden inclusion of tattoo ink. Gathering up her courage, she joined her sisters, “Fine, but I’m going first.” She knew they probably thought she was going to give them crap about the whole thing, and she wanted to, but Bea was pretty tired of being everything her family expected and she had already disappointed Nell enough lately. “Is there any way to make it hurt less?”

As she listened to Nell and Bea gripe about the needles, Luce grinned wryly to herself. With sisters like these, it was honestly a wonder that she had any interest in tattoos at all. As they walked into the shop, the receptionist nodded to her as she walked in and headed towards her room. Rory’s door was shut, which meant he must be in with a client-- ah well. It worked out that Bea wanted to go first in that case. Hanging her coat up on the coat rack, she gestured tilted her head towards the chairs inside. “Okay, so. Here’s what I’m thinking. Obviously, get it wherever you want, but there are a couple spots that I think would look nice.” Opening up her laptop, Luce showed them the design she’d drawn up the other day. Based around the triple goddess symbol, it incorporated some witchy elements she enjoyed while also not being a dead give away about what they could do. And besides, triple goddess, three sisters? Why not kick this whole living situation off with a little family bonding? “I’m planning on getting it here. Again, your call on placement.” She said, gesturing to her upper abs. “Thoughts?”

Nell wasted no time in sitting in one of the chairs, propped on the edge of it as her knee bounced in anticipation. Then a moment later she was already standing again to try and get a better look at the design, and instantly cooing over it. “Ooohhhh, yes! I love that. Dibs on not being the Crone,” she teased a little, figuring each one of the moons were meant to represent each sister. She had to stop herself from piping up to say that she wanted to go first, knowing that it might be better for Bea to. Then there would be less chance she’d want to run...or be able to run. “I think that’s a perfect spot,” Nell said, smoothing her hands beneath her breast in the spot Luce had mentioned. It was most likely going to hurt in a place such as that, but she wasn’t about to say such a thing out loud when Bea was already on the edge about this whole thing. “Sure, Bea first. As for ways of making it hurt less…” Nell shot a look towards Luce, uncertain what reaction she might give to the word she was about to say. “....shots?”

Bea sighed as she sat on the chair, “Well, we all know I’m the Mother.” At this point, she wasn’t sure she would ever be able to get rid of the label “overbearing mother” even as a childless person. She knew people were usually just teasing her when they called her Mom, but it had begun to leave a bitter taste in her mouth. She hoped that taste was gone by the time she had her own children. “You’re the expert, Luce. Put it where you think is the best for me. I can match you two if you want.” She still wasn’t exactly fond of the idea, but if she complained anymore she was sure Nell would say something about it. She looked at the design and had to admit she was okay with that ending up on her. Luce was an amazing artist, Bea was sure that she was the best in this shop. She supposed the fact that her sister was this good was kind of a comfort. She looked over to Luce at Nell’s suggestion. She was pretty sure alcohol was against the rules. “Shots?” She asked Luce. 

Which left Luce with the Crone. Cool. Typical. But, at least they thought the design was worth getting done. Pulling her hair back in a ponytail, she reached into the inner pocket of her jacket and pulled out a flask. “I figured we might need a little liquid courage to get you in the chair, so I came prepared. One,” She held up a finger, “One shot. Nell, you don’t get any, I know you’ve had tattoos done before. This is going to be super quick, you can suck it up for a little bit.” She said as she printed out a couple stencils and got the ink, machine, and a bottle of saline prepped and ready to go. Her leather apron was hanging in the corner, but she wouldn’t need that just yet-- besides, it was kind of an intense look. It would probably freak Bea out more to see. “It’s whiskey, have fun.” She said, tossing the flask over to her sister as she looked at the stencils. They looked pretty good. “C’mon, take a shot and then take off your shirt, we’ll get this done nice and quick. Don’t you love all this fun family bonding?” Luce grinned.

“I wouldn’t say I’m innocent, but I’ll take the Maiden. Just a beautiful, youthful girl making her way in this world,” Nell finished with a smug smile, though it was all in good fun. “Hey! You’ve been holding out,” she exclaimed as Luce pulled the flask from nowhere. “One shot is boring.” The indignance was quick to enter her tone as she carried on. “Just because I’ve had tattoos doesn’t mean I don’t like a good shot! Pain or no pain.” A little snort fell from her as Luce told Bea to take her shirt off. “Wait- we need pasties. Luce, where do you keep the pasties? I wanna make ‘em special just for my beautiful big sister.” Then she was leaning towards Bea, a large grin on her lips. “Yeah Bea, don’t you love it?” She didn’t want to push it too far with her older sister, though. Not after what had happened on the beach.

Bea had to remind herself that she was a powerful, badass witch as she reached for the flask. She wasn’t going to back off of a tattoo when she had down harder things. She had brought something back from the dead and with minimal injury. Lots of people couldn’t do that and lots of people get tattoos. She could do this. She took a long sip with a grimace. Whiskey wsa not her first choice of liquor most of the time. “Yeah. Love family bonding,” She replied with a grimace as she put the flask down, out of reach of Nell. Pulling off her shirt, Bea folded her shirt nicely. She’d take off her bra when she got the pasties. “Don’t draw targets on my pasties.” She didn’t know why she thought her little sister would do that but she had to warn her anyway. “Am I going to be able to wear a bra after this?”

“In the third drawer of my toolkit.” Luce directed at Nell as she began to wipe down her chair and prep her workstation. Her little office was her home away from home and she made sure that it was kitted out appropriately. Her ink and other tattoo supplies were kept in a large rolling Craftsman toolkit, neatly organized and arranged just so. Floating shelves that had a couple candles, a polished citrine crystal, and some of her artwork hanging on the walls. A pinboard with a bunch of pre-made design stencils filled one wall, the prices written on the corner. And there was Nell… rummaging through her things. Grimacing as she cut out the stencils, Luce shrugged. “Technically, not for the rest of the day. I’d personally recommend not for the first week, but that’s a pain tolerance, rubbing call.” Pointing to her side, where the large peacock tattoo was obscured by her shirt, Luce added, “When I got my side tattoo, I didn’t wear a bra for the first week and a half. Your choice though.” Directing her attention to Nell, she scowled. “What are you doing to those pasties? I need to see where things fall so I can get the placement right and you’re holding this up.”

Nell followed Luce’s instructions, pulling out the pasties and proceeding to grab a sharpie that was within eyeline, uncapping the pen with her teeth before a pondering look came over her. The targets wouldn’t have been a terrible idea, and normally she would have done at least one to mess with Bea, even after her sister asked her not to, but...with how things had been going between them, she decided against it. “You’ll be fine with your boobies roaming free for a minute, Bea,” Nell said with a bit of a tease in her voice, knowing how much of a granny her sister could be. “Let them have some air, they’ll love it.” But now her art was finished, and she held up her finished product to Luce with a shit-eating grin on her face. “Done!” On the pasties were simple smiley faces, the dot in the center of them that served as their nose perhaps a touch on the large side. But they needed to be. After all- that’s where the nipple was. “Here you go, Doctor,” she said before handing them over to Luce.

Bea frowned at the idea of not being able to wear a bra for a week. She had shows to perform and she couldn’t exactly get on stage with her nipples poking out from under her shirt. Parents would absolutely complain about it. “I’ll try to keep it off for a week then.” She would at least try to keep it off when she wasn’t at her show. “Don’t call them boobies, it reminds me of middle school,” She cringed. She had no desire to be reminded of that cursed time of her life, she had not been very confident in middle school. High school had made her far more confident, but she supposed that had to do with puberty. She scowled at the pasties. “Did you really make those noses where my nipple is meant to be?” Turning to Luce, she motioned to her bra. “So do I take this off now and put those on?”

Grimacing at Nell’s words, Luce shot a pained look in her sister’s direction. “Never ever call them “boobies” ever again.” That was some cursed shit. Particularly when said… breasts belonged to her sister. Nope, nope, if anyone needed the alcohol, it was going to be her. Tossing the pasties over to Bea, she nodded. “No, I’m gonna tattoo through your bra. Of course you’re gonna fucking put them on. Hurry up, this should be a pretty quick one. The sooner you get in the chair, the sooner this will be over.” She said with a bored expression, waving the stencils impatiently. It was a simple design and, even though the sternum wasn’t a super comfortable place to get tattooed, it would be done before either one of them could put up a fuss.

“Well I didn’t wanna call them titties,” Nell grumbled, not particularly impressed with both of her sisters picking up on the work. “Is that what you wanted?” She decided to turn it into a bit of classic little sister revenge instead. “To say let your titties fly free?” And then her grin was back before she said, “Yep! Where else would I put the noses?” Another eyeroll later and she was talking to Luce once more. “She doesn’t know the process. Or who puts the smiley face pasties where. Is this how you treat all your clients? Consider your tip deducted,” she joked, squirming in her chair a little as she waited, impatient for her own turn. 

“I meant should I do it now, Luce, I didn’t know if you needed more time to set up and I didn’t want you both to have to sit with me shirtless for even longer than you have to,” Bea replied sourly at her sister, before turning her back on her sisters to pull off her bra and place the pasties. She didn’t know why Luce wanted to do this if she was going to treat the entire thing like it was a chore. It’s not like Bea had begged her for this. She barely even wanted the tattoo but she was doing this for her sisters. She sat back into the chair, resisting the urge to cross her arms over her chest. “I’m ready now,” She said, expression still sour, though she refused to meet either of her sisters’ eyes. 

“You can just call them breasts. Or better yet, not talk about them at all.” Luce said with a grimace. “Nope. You guys get the friends and family treatment. Which is double the cost.” She said dryly. Glancing at Bea, she shrugged. “It’ll be over before you know it. And once it is, you’re good to hit that flask.” Focusing on her work, Luce was able to get the thin lines, the small line of dots, the careful shading of the moons done in no time at all. In what seemed like no time at all, she’d finished up both of her sister’s tattoos and Rory was finishing up on her own. As soon as the tattoo was wrapped, she pulled her shirt back on and tossed him a couple twenties. “See, that wasn’t so bad.” She said with a bright grin, her blood pounding with the familiar rush of a new tattoo. “C’mon, what’d you think?”

Nell had hopped into the chair as soon as Bea was done, far too eager to have her turn. Then it was over almost as soon as it had started, and she was left to admire her sister’s work in the mirror. A grin was on her lips as the three of them had finished getting their tattoos, and she looked over to her sisters. “It’s perfect,” she said sincerely. “I love it.” With the ink fresh on her skin, she couldn’t help but enjoy the tattoo that they now shared. It linked them in a way that she could see, something more tangible beyond the unspoken bond of sisterhood. Three parts of a whole. For now, it served as a reminder that- even if they didn’t always like one another, even if they yelled and screamed, they were still sisters. 

The experience of getting a tattoo was not pleasant and Bea did not picture herself doing it again. Injecting her skin with ink was not on her list of fun things to do over a weekend. She had handled herself well, though she had spent a bit of time with her eyes watering from the jarring sensation of a tattoo gun near bones. After though, she took a long look at her tattoo (arm over her chest even though she still wore pasties). She supposed the only people she would ever want to get tattooed for would be her sisters. They had seen each other at their weakest points and had inspired each other. It would be a nice reminder to know that she always had them with her. She had pulled her shirt on again, though she found herself lifting up her shirt a bit to see the tattoo. Her finger slimmed underneath the ink. “Yeah, it’s perfect, Luce. Guess you can say both of you have permanently gotten under my skin.”

[unfortunate-stranger-losers]

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

{ao3} {tumblr} {masterlist}

Chapter Nineteen - Escape from Paltryville

Bertrand knew it was time for them to move again when he heard the Hook-Handed Man cursing at the lock. He never came around when the others were there, so he must have been assigned to drug them or drag them out. Considering Beatrice could probably remove his hooks in five seconds if they were walking, it was probably the drugs. 

Bertrand sat up and looked down at Beatrice, who was sleeping against his arm. He really didn’t want to wake her- let her enjoy her dream, maybe she’s thinking of something better, maybe she’s happier. But it’d be worse to let her sleep through the drugging and wake up with a horrible headache in an unfamiliar location, possibly while they were still on the move, she’d probably panic and Olaf or Esme would… would find some way to shut her up. 

He slowly shook her, and she stirred, reaching to cling to his arm as she awoke. She liked to awaken touching him, knowing he was still there. She’d done that before they went on the run, too. She didn’t like people leaving her. 

When her eyes opened, and Bertrand saw the light in them dim, their horrible reality once again settling in, he leaned his head against hers and said, “They’re taking us out.” 

“Do you think he found…?” 

“I don’t know.” 

She shivered and leaned against him some more, and the door opened. Bertrand sat up straighter, watching as the Hook-Handed Man came in, a tray of needles attached to his hooks. He’d only need one syringe for each of them, but Bertrand assumed he’d come prepared in case he dropped any. He placed the tray down on the ground, struggling to pick one up. He didn’t look at Bertrand or Beatrice, didn’t make eye contact. 

Slowly, Beatrice said, “Fernald.” 

He still didn’t look at them. 

“Fernald, please…” she tried. 

“Look, just be quiet.” Fernald sighed. “Olaf said if you talked too much that I should give you more scars with my hooks, and I’d rather not clean them off again.” 

“Fernald…” Beatrice shut her eyes, and then pulled away from her husband, leaning closer to him. “I… I know what Kit asked you to do. What your Stepfather made you do. I- I don’t blame you for it, I never believed-” 

“It doesn’t matter.” Fernald said, finally lifting a syringe. “Just hold still so this works right.” 

“Fernald, he was my cousin.” Beatrice said, pleading with her eyes. “Gregor was my cousin. I- But I never blamed you. I just want you to know that. I know you just did what VFD made you do. It’s- it’s so fucked up-” 

“Yeah, it is.” Fernald sat beside her, grabbing her arm with one hook and holding the syringe with the other. 

“Fernald, please-” 

Bertrand looked to him and said, “How old is Fiona?” 

Fernald froze. 

There was silence and stillness for a moment, before Bertrand sighed. “How long has it been since you’ve seen her?” 

“Nine years.” he said, his voice low. 

“She’s the same age as our Violet.” Bertrand said, blinking back tears. “They’re just children, Fernald. And Olaf’s going to kill them if we don’t do something. He’ll do worse. They don’t deserve this.” 

Fernald shut his eyes, and then said, “Please just shut up.” 

He stuck the syringe in Beatrice’s arm, and Bertrand squeezed her hand as he pressed. He tried not to notice that not all of the liquid left the syringe- quite a bit left over, actually. He tried not to notice the same thing happen to his arm before he began to get tired again. He tried not to hope, because hope wasn’t getting them very far. 

Violet helped Klaus walk down the steps of the building; his splint was helping, and his injury should heal soon, but he still had some issues. Sunny was strapped to his chest, and she asked, “Quando?” “Where to next?” 

“Olaf’s coming. This town isn’t safe.” Violet said. “We go to Prufrock. We should be able to find a bus station. If it’s not working, I’ll hijack us a car.” 

“Max.” Sunny giggled. “I’ll drive!” 

“No, you won’t, I’ll drive. Klaus, you sit in the back with Sunny and rest your leg.” 

“I-” Klaus began. 

“Hey, kids?” 

They looked up, seeing someone in a uniform approach them, holding a lantern and looking confused. “What are you doing here? We don’t have children in the lumbermill-” 

“Fire.” Violet said. 

The man blinked, and then almost dropped the lantern, confusion spreading across his face. “What? Where-” 

“Do me a favor, bud,” Violet said, patting him on the hand, “Go to the other workers, wake them up, and say ‘fire.’ It’ll all make sense then. Then revolt or some shit. See ya.” 

She dragged her siblings away from the confused man, and then she said, “Let’s go before a riot starts.” 

“She hypnotized them?” Klaus asked quietly. 

“She hypnotized a lot of people.” Violet shuddered. “Including Father. That’s how I knew the codeword to save you, she used the same one. Fucking idiot.” 

She cracked a smile, but Klaus didn’t. 

“Violet… we killed her.” 

Violet’s face fell. “She deserved it.” 

“I know, but…” 

Violet put an arm around him. “But you didn’t know I could do that?” 

Klaus stared at the ground. 

Violet slowly put her head against his as they walked, and then shut her eyes. “I didn’t know I could, either. But it was her or you two.” 

Klaus nodded, and then pressed against Violet some more. “Yeah.” he said. 

“Do you… remember anything now?”

“It’s… blurry.”

“What did she do to you?”

“N-nothing much. Just scared me with the hypnotism. It was… very chaotic. I’m a bit- dizzy?” 

“Then keep leaning on me. Don’t worry, she can’t hurt you again.” 

Klaus nodded, and then smiled a little. “You’ll protect me.” 

“Yeah, I will.” she vowed. 

“Now… let’s get to school, huh?” 

“I’ll break in the front window, find the office, and steal some transfer papers. Can you still forge the best?” 

“Hell yeah.” 

“Good. Let’s get going.” 

They walked in silence for the rest of the way, locking their arms together and leaning on each other. 

Beatrice stirred carefully, feeling herself dropped onto the ground. It took her a moment to process the pain from that, but she managed to keep it in, her reactions small, as she heard commotion around her. Stay calm, Bea. That wasn’t easy, considering her back stung and she had a piercing headache- drugs must’ve worn off. Thank God for that, at least. 

It took her ears a second to adjust, as she pieced together what was going on. There was the sound of several voices shouting in anger- muffled, so either outside a building they were in or inside a building they were standing beside. Considering how wooden her surroundings felt, they were inside. There were footsteps- vibrations after them, small ones. She was on the floor. She heard a faint breathing beside her- someone was next to her. Please, God, let it be Bertrand… 

“Boss, maybe she’s not here yet.” 

“She said she’d meet us here. What’s taking her so damn long?” 

“Think she’d be delayed by that riot outside?” 

“Riot’s against that Wiley guy, not her. If anything, that’s her distraction. Where the fuck is she?” 

“Maybe the kids stabbed her and ran.” 

“She said she had them hypnotized.” 

Beatrice felt her stomach hit the floor. Slowly, she squinted an eye open. She could see two bodies, not facing her, and as she opened her eyes, she saw that Olaf and Fernald were standing by the door. Beatrice hesitated, listening more, and then she rolled over as silently as she could. She almost let out a cry of relief when she saw Bertrand beside her, though he still seemed to be unconscious. She stayed still as Olaf and Fernald continued arguing, waiting to see if anyone had noticed her move. The rest of the troupe must be around somewhere… 

She heard a call from across the room. “Hey, boss! Back door’s locked!” 

“Unlock it and see if she’s outside, then! God, do I have to do everything?” 

Okay, the rest of the troupe was looking around. Beatrice shut her eyes, piecing together clues in her head. Hypnotism plus Woman associated with Olaf… Georgina. Georgina was meeting them there. “Maybe the kids stabbed her and ran.” She had the children. She had the… no. No, that couldn’t be right. If Georgina had the kids, she wouldn’t be delayed, she’d be here, and Olaf would be ready to… the kids must’ve escaped. So now it was their turn. 

Beatrice slowly edged her hand closer to Bertrand’s, squinting her eyes to make sure nobody came within view. 

“Maybe she just wanted us to come so she can kill us.” 

“Please. She’s not that smart.” 

“She tried it that one time-” 

“Yeah, and it didn’t work, so she won’t try again. Unlike I, who knows that sometimes using the same plan over and over and works wonders.” 

“Yeah, about that, boss-” 

“Don’t question me.” 

“Sorry, boss.” 

Beatrice finally reached her husband’s hand, and gave it a tap. She held her breath, terror coursing through her as the troupe kept shouting at each other. Then she felt complete and utter relief as Bertrand’s finger moved, tapping her hand as well. 

She gripped his palm, and squeezed gently. Just wait a second. 

“Boss, wait, there’s something stashed behind the furnace.” 

“Who cares? We’re waiting on Georgina.” 

“Uuuuh, boss? You should come look at this.” 

“For the last fucking time… whatever your name was, I’m staying over-” 

“There’s a body back here.” 

“Fucking- what? You should’ve lead with that.” 

Footsteps. Beatrice kept her eyes shut a moment, waiting until the steps raced past her, stopping a few feet away. 

Far enough.

“Holy shit. Is that-” 

Beatrice grabbed Bertrand’s hand and leapt to her feet. He leapt just after her, and they took off running. 

Shouts. Screams. Weapons flying at their heads. Beatrice was used to it- moreso from her VFD days than her life on the run, which usually had more hand-to-hand and “hide under the bed” incidents, but it was like riding a bike; instinct took over. She threw an arm around Bertrand’s shoulders, helping him duck down under a dart of some kind, and in just a few short bounds, they were at the front doors of the building. She hit it with her shoulder, bursting it open, and leapt out, thankful that she jumped over the steps. Bertrand followed, and they took a quick second to take in their surroundings. 

“Lucky Smells.” Beatrice whispered. 

Bertrand shook slightly, grabbing her hand. Being here was rough for him- they’d only designated it a safehouse because they assumed the workers would be grateful enough to them for stopping the fire that they’d watch the kids. There were few safe places they’d been able to think of. Pretty much nothing was safe anymore. 

Beatrice grabbed her husband’s arm again and ran with him, racing across the dirt towards the fence. They could hear the distant revolt- good for them, they’re finally ditching Smogface- which would hopefully make its way towards their pursuers, stalling them enough for them to climb the fence. If the mob didn’t come this way, though, they’d just have to make a run for the gate, which is what Beatrice assumed they’d have to do. 

Bertrand stumbled, and Beatrice simply moved behind him, pushing him forwards until he regained his balance. She knew his leg probably still hurt like hell from- from a few days before. Her legs hurt less than his, so she had to take the lead. At least until they found a place to hide. 

They reached the gate and Beatrice only spared a quick glance back- oh, yep, they were being pursued. She grabbed Bertrand’s hand, and the two of them raced through, rushing down the streets of the town. As soon as she could, she ducked them down a street of abandoned buildings, and Bertrand caught her idea. He pulled her to an empty store, shouldering the door open and bursting through. They passed two rooms before leaping out a window and climbing into the building beside them through an open side-door; the swinging door in the first house would be too much of a giveaway if Olaf thought to look that way. 

Beatrice shut the side-door, glancing around. They were in the back of what used to be some kind of storage room, empty shelves surrounding them, a broken cardboard box here or there. She caught sight of a half-torn poster, a few faded music notes still visible. Record store, she’d hazard a guess. 

They heard shouts from the street, so Bertrand grabbed Beatrice’s arm, pulling her into the back of the room. They found the door to the rest of the store and slipped past, edging through the dusty, deserted area before finding a bathroom. The paint was peeling, the sink was cracked, and the plumbing probably didn’t work, but they didn’t care at all. 

Beatrice shut and locked the door, and the two of them stepped back, breathing deep and trying to remain quiet. 

After a few minutes, after their eyes adjusted to the dark room, Beatrice crept into the corner, sliding down to the ground. Bertrand slid next to her, and they stared at each other. 

Usually, they were good at waiting a long time before even moving, making any noise. They could hide in one place for hours with no one the wiser, as could Violet and Klaus. They probably could have stood there and remained completely quiet for days. 

But after another minute of silence and staring, Bertrand started to cry, and Beatrice threw her arms around him, pressing herself against him and hugging him close to her. She started crying, too, and their soft tears flowed for another few minutes, until they were reasonably sure that they were safe. 

Beatrice leaned back as Bertrand ran a hand through her hair, and she reached under his glasses so she could wipe tears away. She wanted to say something, anything, but she didn’t know if she could even if she wasn’t afraid of someone hearing. Her heart was pounding in her chest, everything was hitting her at once… 

He put his hands on her cheeks, and she shut her eyes as he pressed his face against hers. Whenever they kissed, even after fifteen years of marriage, it was never quick and fast, never just a short moment. They had never been able to get enough of each other, always found themselves lost when they were together. She pulled herself closer to him, practically crawling onto his lap and using her arms, wrapped behind his neck, to pull his head closer to hers. For a while, they almost didn’t feel the need to breathe, just finding life in finally embracing without the overwhelming fear and pain they’d felt over the last few days. 

When Beatrice finally pulled away, they put their foreheads together, just deeply breathing together and letting themselves calm down. 

“We need to get out of here.” she whispered. “He’ll stop at nothing to find us.” 

“We need to find the children.” 

“We’ll check the safehouses we don’t know he’s been to.” 

“Then?” 

“We find them.” 

They fell silent, and then kissed again, and it was like the world outside was gone. 

[hphm-etched-engraved-everlasting]

14. Em

Author’s Note/Table of Contents

Oh, Merlin. Here we went again.

I didn't imagine myself winding back up in what may be the stinkiest and messiest room at Hogwarts, with the last person on earth that I would willingly talk to. Standing a good few feet away from her now, my gaze directed at my feet to avoid her piercing glare, I wished I had turned down her invitation to talk with her after the quick flying practice session with Angelina and Alicia. At least they were much nicer and proved decent company. Now I felt like I was going to become a meal.

"Will you please stop staring at your shoes?" Beatrice growled. "I have a good reason to talk to you, so you might as well show some respect."

"I have a name, you know," I responded quietly, tearing my gaze from the floor to look up at her.

"Yeah. And I don't have any patience."

She casually stuck her hands in her pockets, leaning against the cabinet doors. I figured I had about one minute before she took out her wand and did me in for good.

"So why did you drag me in here?" I asked her. "I assume you have something good to tell me."

"That, I do, so you better listen carefully," Beatrice responded, a hint of venom in her hiss. "I want you to tell Clara and Penny to stay away from me, and keep at it this time until they agree."

Ah, of course. She just wanted to make herself clear, which to me was very baffling. I didn't understand where her hatred for my sister suddenly came from, let alone her hatred for her own sister. Why would she try to push them away when they were only trying to reach out to her after all that happened? What even triggered her to undergo this dark transformation? And why would she want to bottle up her thoughts and emotions after witnessing the start of the new curse? It had to be so traumatizing that I'd tell anyone about it, even my own sister.

For someone who had been directly affected by the last curse, this was not what I had expected.

"I take it Penny's still trying to reach out to you, then," I assumed, an eyebrow raised.

Beatrice nodded. "It was annoying at first--but since I found the petrified student, her smothering has become unbearable. I've been hiding in here just to get away from her."

"I could imagine. If I were in your shoes, I'd experience the same thing," I told her quietly, tucking my hand in my pocket for my wand in case she did anything. "But that doesn't give you the option to run away from these problems."

"I don't have a problem, don't you see? I am not a mini Penny! I'm Beatrice and this--this is what I am! This is who I am!" Beatrice insisted, gesturing to herself.

"Oh? What about the fact that you were directly afflicted by the Portrait Curse?" I asked her. "Anyone who had gone through that level of trauma would want more help and guidance, to steer clear of what once had been. I helped Clara last summer overcome her obstacles--"

"But that gives her and Penny no right to go about and assume I have issues!" Beatrice interrupted. "I thought you were her sister, aren't you? You should know better than to assume that Clara would get the message right from the get go!"

"Look, I wasn't there when you and Clara saw the statue," I said, heaving a heavy sigh. "I can't say I know exactly what's happening. But I do know that when a problem arises and a memory hits, you need to talk to someone. Clara and Penny were just trying to help you--you're not alone, alright?"

"Oh, I don't need you to tell me that I'm not alone. I've got good company with Ismelda, too," Beatrice retorted. "And they were wrong to tell me I would be safe! They were wrong to tell me Hogwarts is safe! All they've said was nothing but rubbish! If not for them, I would have probably been more prepared for this kind of danger to arise! And just so you know," she added, marching up to me in three strides and grabbing the collar of my robes, "I don't want to talk to anyone about this, not even Penny, so--"

"What is going on in here?"

Perfect timing. Clara had finally arrived in the room, fixing her red Gryffindor Prefect badge on her school robes and glancing at the two of us in serious shock.

"Thank goodness you're here, Clara," I said, grabbing Beatrice's wrist and wresting away from her strong grip. "Um, not much. I was called here after flying with Angelina and Alicia--"

"Be glad I'm not a Hufflepuff Prefect, Beatrice. I could take House Points off just for bullying my sister like that," Clara warned her. "She's already gone through too much to stand another person mocking her."

Beatrice visibly flinched at the sight of her glaring at her, and for a moment I thought she would snap at her.

She probably wouldn't have if Penny didn't come in, trailing right after Clara with a concerned and worried expression on her face.

"Bea, there you are!" she cried in relief. "Professor Snape just told me you skipped your make-up Potions lesson this afternoon. The Professors were gracious enough to help you catch up on all the classes you missed while you were...er..."

Penny faltered, and I could see the hesitation in her eyes as she tried not to bring up an event that might trigger Beatrice's fear and anger all over again.

"Yeah, just say it," Beatrice said offhandedly. "While I was trapped in a portrait."

"The point is, they went out of their way for you and you just ignored them!" Penny argued.

"I never asked them to do that--just like I never asked you to butt into my business!" Beatrice retorted.

"I'm just worried about you, especially now," Penny tried to explain. "Anyone would be upset after seeing that Petrified student. And since when is caring and worrying about you butting into your business?"

"Since you started trying to change me!" Beatrice barked angrily.

Good grief. I have been in quite a few family fights myself, but none quite like this. I glanced over at Clara, whose eyes went wide with shock again. I could tell she, too, was thinking back to the days mum and dad were fighting after Jacob went missing, and also the days she tried to shut me out, too.

"I just want to help you get back to your cheerful, happy self," Penny insisted softly.

"But I can't go back!" Beatrice cried. "I don't want to, anyway! I like who I am now!"

The tension in the tiny room seemed to elevate to a point where I felt like the message Beatrice gave me would no longer be effective and the room would end up exploding at some point if no one calmed down. I couldn’t stand it whenever mum and dad argued, and hearing the words bounced back and forth like an angry ping pong ball made me want to run. Besides, this seemed more like a personal matter now between the two. It was best not to get involved.

"It sounds like you two have a lot to talk about," Clara finally noted, looking over from Penny to Beatrice to me. "I should go."

"Me too," I piped up quietly as well. "I need to feed Cheddar before he starves."

Both Haywood sisters automatically widened their eyes and shook their heads at the prospect of my sister and I leaving.

"No, no, Clara--please stay," Penny pleaded. "And you too, Em."

"Yes, don't leave me alone with her!" Beatrice added, giving a pointed glare sideways at Penny.

Clara glanced over to the door of the Artefact Room, and I knew that she had to get back to her Prefect duties, otherwise she could potentially get kicked off for spending too long analyzing and observing this issue. It didn't take a genius to know that being a representative of the students at Hogwarts was a huge responsibility. Still, she sighed and relented, and I shrugged as well, knowing full well that there was no getting out of this argument until something came out of it.

"Fine. We'll stay," Clara said. "But only if you two at least try to talk and get along."

Penny nodded eagerly. "Of course! All I want to do is get along with Bea."

"Whatever," Beatrice groaned, shaking her head in exasperation.

The two of them continued to look at each other for a bit--rather, Penny looked and Beatrice glared--before an argument actually ensued, Penny trying to reach out and Beatrice dumping all the blame on her. It just sounded all like she was saying it was Penny's fault.

Clara just looked like she was going to faint. Her face soon turned really pale, her eyes glazed and unfocused. All this time she had been affected by curses at the school, yet she didn't have anyone in our family to turn to--well, I couldn't blame her for not telling me everything earlier. If there had been the slim chance that I wouldn't be accepted into Hogwarts, I wouldn't have heard any of Clara or Jacob's adventures in full--the full whole truth as it would have been termed. Still, the fact that she carried all this burden alone for the most part must have made it difficult for her to get by. She had friends, but only a family would understand everything and offer the best help needed.

I thought back to the days last summer when I tried to get Clara to open up. She used to spend hours on the piano, playing her heart and soul out, or shut up alone in her room refusing to see anyone. Eventually I got her to tell me everything, and she did--willingly, somehow. It seemed like she welcomed the chance to share the burden with me now that I was going into the site where it all happened for her.

And I didn't mind. I didn't mind shouldering some of her burden and knowing all that she had been through so that I could prepare myself for what was to come.

"This argument is just pointless!" Beatrice finally shouted in frustration. "All this proved is that Penny isn't even trying to understand me!"

"But how can I when you keep pushing me away? I just want things to be like they were before," Penny said, shaking her head sadly.

"Yes, by pretending everything I went through didn't happen? Can't you see how messed up that is?" Beatrice demanded. "I bet Clara and Em understand. Don't you?"

What? Beatrice Haywood, the last person on the planet I would willingly talk to, ask for my appeal?

"No, I'm sure they know I'm just worried about you," Penny argued. "Right, Clara? Em?"

No one could pretend the Portrait Curse didn't happen. Penny wasn't even trying to say it didn't happen, anyway. Clara's face hardened at the thought of having to choose a side in this argument, and I held fast to her arm, in case she actually fainted then and there.

"I'm sorry, Beatrice, but I have to side with Penny," Clara finally said. "She just wants to make sure you're alright, and misses how close you two were."

She smiled down at me and I knew she was thinking back to last summer, when she entrusted me with all those things that were bothering her. Penny smiled and thanked her, but Beatrice looked like she was going to punch a brick wall.

"I can't believe I used to admire you," Beatrice spat in my sister's face.

The smile faded from Penny's face, and she stomped her foot, her usual soft expression now replaced with an angry glare.

"Bea! Take that back!" she demanded.

"NO!" Beatrice refused, her voice rising to an angry shout. "And don't call me that! I told you to use 'Beatrice' now!"

"But why?" Penny asked. "I wish you'd stop this nonsense..."

"Yeah, well--I WISH YOU WEREN'T MY SISTER!" Beatrice finally snapped. "I WISH YOU'D JUST DISAPPEAR!"

She stormed off, an angry huff escaping her mouth, and slammed the door shut behind her, leaving the three of us in complete disarray.

"I swear, if she goes anywhere with that hot head of hers she'll roast a bad turkey before she gets to her senses," I muttered, pulling out my wand. "I'm going after her before she does something stupid."

And so I went off as well, my wand held out in front of me as I followed her back to the Hufflepuff Common Room. The minute I went in, though, she was nowhere to be found.

Instead, I came across Diego who was holding up a small bag of cheese, his eyes wide as he looked at me from the fireplace.

"Em?" he asked. "Is everything okay? What happened?"

"You didn't happen to see Beatrice storm in here, did you?" I asked him, putting my wand away slowly as I approached him.

Diego sighed and nodded. "I did. I was waiting for you to come back so we can spend some more time with Cheddar--I can't get into the girls' dormitory, you know--and--"

"She just had a row with Penny, and it didn't end well." I clenched my fists and looked down at the ground again, remembering just how, moments ago, I felt like I was going to be devoured by the scariest beast alive. Now I felt something new course through my veins--an urge to stop her. I felt Diego's hand on my shoulder, but I didn't dare relax.

As much as I didn't want to, I had to find Beatrice and talk some sort of sense into her before it was too late.

[slytherin-puffskein]

@nightingaletrash

And number 9 is *drum roll* War’s End kiss ! Now, I know this is based on a photograph, but... I decided to take the words literally, with the war ending.

This is loosely based on this post.

* * *

Everyone was exhausted, and frankly, they had a damn good reason to be. Voldemort had just been defeated, the Battle of Hogwarts are over, the Second Wizarding War was officially put to an end. Teachers were healing wounded students, or cover corpses with whatever piece of fabric they could find. Filch was the only one not tending to anyone. He was walking aimlessly, staring at all the rubble that once was bits and parts of the Castle. He forced himself to look away as he saw a pale hand poking out from under a rock, the flesh ripped apart and covered in blood, with broken bones sticking out.

Fallen warrior.

Tons of them, in fact. Some students were yet to be found, and the search for them was constant. No one dared to take a break. Every goddamn second mattered. Rowan Khanna was looking, William Weasley, despite the loss of his brother, was looking. Even Emily Tyler was looking, her ponytail all messed up from the battle.

Barnaby Lee was looking, his black clothes smeared with blood and dirt. No one dared to look at him... or well, no one wanted to look at him. A traitor, a piece of shit, an enemy... every single person said at least one of these words about him. Barnaby couldn’t blame them. Yes, he joined the Death Eaters. He might have fought against Voldemort’s army following the hour long armistice, but it didn’t excuse what he did to Lau when the Dark Lord’s return was announced. What he did to everyone.

But what they didn’t know what that Barnaby didn’t have a choice. His parents were pretty clear: either he joins them, or Lau dies from a horrible death. Not a quick killing spell, no. Hours and hours of the Cruciatus curse, followed by a spell causing all the blood in his body to bleed from his ears. Barnaby was too afraid to check if such spell was a thing, and he accepted. Now everyone hated him. Of course they did. But he couldn’t care what those people thought of him. They can hate his guts for all they want, it won’t really affect him. The only opinion that mattered was Lau’s... but where was he ? Barnaby briefly saw him during the first part of the battle, when he was fighting against Hogwarts. Then, he practically vanished... or he was avoiding him. There was also another

( d e a t h )

option, but Barnaby didn’t dare to

( someone casted the Killing Curse on him he’s dead he’s dead and he hates you he died hating you no I wanted to protect him he can’t die he died he DIED HE DIED )

think about it for even a second. He eventually spotted Penny Haywood, her hair pulled into a messy bun, and he hesitated... before joining her and sitting next to her. Her boots were covered in dirt and smudged with blood clots, and her fingers, still holding her wand tightly, were shaking. The cheerful, helpful Penny Haywood was gone. At least for now.

Suddenly, she turned her head to him, pinching her lips.

“What do you want, Lee ?”

Ouch. Her voice was filled with venom, a venom specifically made for him. He cleared his throat.

“I... wanted to check on you... I haven’t seen anyone try and...”

He trailed off as he stared at the huge bruise on her forehead. He bit on his lip, and carefully pulled out his wand... and as a result, Penny immediately pointed hers at him. He froze. Of course. He was still, after all, a traitor.

“I... I just want to heal you...” he whispered.

Penny hesitated... then lowered her wand. Barnaby quickly pointed his wand at her forehead before she could change her mind, and muttered a few healing spells. A few seconds later, her forehead was completely intact... Barnaby smiled.

“I-It worked !”

Of course. Lau was the one who taught him healing spells... and he would always listen whenever Lau was teaching him something. Penny slowly nodded.

“Yeah, it did...”

“Penny ! I found Beatrice, she’s safe and sound and with Tre-”

Laurent Dorian King was running toward the blonde, a bright smile on his face, and Barnaby still had trouble to register how much he changed. His hair were longer, and tied in a short ponytail. His face had a few more scars, and he was definitely taller... but that smile and those beautiful eyes remained the same. However, as soon as Laurent saw Barnaby, he stopped speaking, and froze... before immediately grabbing his wand from his boot and pointing it at Barnaby.

“What is he doing here !?” he snarled.

Penny sighed, standing up.

“He switched sides” she simply said. “Although a lot of people doubt it...”

“That can be expected...” Barnaby said softly.

He tried to smile as an attempt to lighten the mood, but he met Lau’s cold, hard stare. He shivered, and could only remain silent as Penny walked away to find her little sister. After a few minutes of... basically nothing, Barnaby awkwardly stood up... and Lau extended his hand. For a moment, Barnaby thought he wanted him to take it, and he took a step forward.

“Your wand” Lau said. “Give it to me”

“W... What ?”

“You might say you’re with us again, but I can’t risk it. Give me your wand, and we’ll talk”

Without further ado, Barnaby handed him his wand. Lau grabbed it, and stuffed it in his jacket’s pocket. Then he nodded.

“Follow me”

They quietly walked outside of Hogwarts, and Barnaby’s chest tightened as he saw all the broken trees, the burnt grass and the splotches of blood on different rocks. That was... disgusting. But again, war is disgusting. They walked, for what seemed like forever to Barnaby who just wanted to talk. But they eventually stopped in front of the Black Lake.

Their old hangout spot, back in their Hogwarts days. Their old make out spot. Laurent stared at the water, his hands behind his back, and despite his seriousness, Barnaby still thought he was adorable. He suddenly remembered that night in which he told him he couldn’t be with him anymore... and how they loved each other before he left while Lau was sleeping.

Then, he joined his parents. To protect him.

“Why are you back ?”

Fuck. Lau was asking him a question. Barnaby gulped.

“I was tired of fighting for You-Know-Who...”

Lau chuckled weakly.

“He’s dead, Barnaby. You can shout out his name to the entire world and nothing will happen”

But Barnaby was still afraid. He was afraid of many things.

“I told you I’d come back, Lau. And I did, didn’t I ? I came back !”

“Yeah, from the Death Eaters” Lau scoffed. “That’s easily the dumbest thing you ever did. You missed mom and dad ?”

“No, I was protecting you” he immediately replied.

Sure, Lau was acting rude, but... he had every right to do so. Lau turned around, staring at his ex boyfriend.

“Protecting me ? By joining a group that loathes Muggleborns ?”

“By obeying to my parents. They told me they’d hurt you if I didn’t join, Lau. I didn’t have a choice”

“You always have a choice” Lau replied bitterly. “How many times must I keep telling you I can defend myself ?”

“I know you can. I just... I didn’t like the fact they were even considering it. I’d rather not risk anything. Not when it might put you in danger”

Lau bit softly on his lip... and he looked at Barnaby. Right into his eyes.

“Barnaby Lee... you’re way too caring” Lau whispered. “About me, at least. It’s going to bite you in the ass sooner than you think”

“I think it already bit me in the ass by making me join the Death Eaters” he replied with a smile.

Unexpectedly, Lau giggled... and Barnaby loved that sound.

“I suppose...” he whispered.

He stepped closer to Barnaby, looked up at him... and he kissed him. Very softly... as if he was testing the waters after all that happened. With the war over and no threats looming above them, will he be willing to give Barnaby a second chance ? Now that the war is over ? Thoughtlessly, Barnaby wrapped his arms around Lau, pulling him closer... and Lau didn’t protest. In fact, he pressed his small hands against his chest, feeling his warmth and his steady heartbeat.

Neither of them can tell how long that kiss lasted. But when they pulled away, they were both gasping for air. Lau stared at Barnaby, his lips sightly parted. They were sort of chapped, but Barnaby couldn’t care less.

“I don’t think I can... trust you again immediately... but... I do think you deserve a second chance”

He slowly took Barnaby’s wand from his pocket, and handed it back to him.

“Can you please go home tonight ? My bed has been feeling empty for years”

[vfdbaudelairefile13]

Misery Loves Company Part 2

Chapter Eighteen:

The One With The Nightmare

Violet and Klaus didn’t like that Count Olaf had once again shown up in their lives in pursuit of their inheritance and their lives but they will admit some time during dinner both siblings realized that it was better when Olaf was in front of them because that means he wasn’t hurting Duncan, Isadora, or Sunny.

So when it was finally late enough where Mrs. Squalor started walking Gunther to the door, Violet and Klaus’ face fell with worry as the villain’s bid them a goodnight promising Esme, and them, that he’ll be back first thing tomorrow. Violet wanted to chase after him maybe he’d lead her to where her friends and baby sister were hidden. But there was that nagging fear that if he found out she was following him and that she was alone because there would be no way in hell that she’d bring Klaus with her, she didn’t want to imagine the things he would do. Klaus wanted to chase after him yelling help someone help! This man is Count Olaf! He has my friends and baby sister! But he feared Olaf would merely get out of that as he did with every other ridiculous disguise he donned. So he stood there next to Violet watching worriedly as his worst nightmare left his apartment to possibly go hurt his friends and or baby sister.

After locking her apartment door, Esme turned towards Violet and Klaus and bid them goodnight. As she walked passed them, she called out. “If you are going to stay up, please try not to make any noise. A powerful woman like myself needs her beauty sleep.”

Violet and Klaus looked at one another and shrugged their shoulders. Jerome slowly followed behind his wife.

“Jerome?” Klaus called out.

“Yeah, Klaus?”

“Do you guys have a library? I noticed that during the tour we skipped a lot of rooms and…” He began.

Jerome frowned. “Unfortunately, no. Books have been out for a rather long time.’ He watched as Klaus responded with a frown. “But tell you what, tomorrow I’ll take you and Violet into town. We can go shopping and have a good time. Get your mind off of...well, you know.”

Violet smiled at Jerome in response as she looked over at Klaus, who still looked rather sad. He gave Jerome a quick and small smile. Jerome walked with the children to help them navigate their bedrooms. Once they reached their rooms, Jerome bid them goodnight and walked down the hall towards his room.

“Don’t worry,” Violet told Klaus.

“How do you expect me not to worry?”

“We are going to save them,”

“How?”

“I’m still trying to figure that part out,” Violet admitted.

“So in other words, we have nothing,” Klaus cried.

Violet looked away from Klaus. “Well...there is one thing...but it’s more of a last resort thing,” she muttered.

“What?” Klaus asked looking at his sister.

“...that’s top-secret,” Violet said. “It doesn’t concern you.”

‘Yes, it does,”

“No, it really doesn’t,”

‘What is the ‘last resort”?” he asked her.

She turned her head not wanting to face him. “Well, you heard him,” she said shuddering. “He’s willing to trade me for Sunny and one of the Quagmires,”

Klaus’ eyes widened. “Are you crazy!?” he yelled. “We aren’t trading your life for theirs,”

“Why not?”

“Because this isn’t a game, Violet. This is serious business. Olaf is a madman who is determined to destroy us,” he reminded her. “And that has a different meaning for each of us if you know what I mean,”

Violet shuddered to indicate to Klaus that she did understand what he meant. She frowned. “Isn’t it selfish of me though?” she asked.

“How would it…”

“Two of them will be given their freedom for mine,” Violet said. “I’m not worth two people’s freedoms,”

“Violet, stop this nonsense,” Klaus hissed. ‘We’re not trading you for them. Besides who’s to say he’ll keep his end of the deal? He’d probably still keep all of them and take me in the process. You would be surrendering for nothing,”

“He...wouldn’t do that….would he?”

“Oh, he would, Vi. Out of the five of us, you’re the one who poses a threat to him. It must be the Snicket gene,” Klaus commented.

“Or the Baudelaire gene...did you see yourself back there when he first showed his face?” she reminded Klaus. “I thought you were going to kill him,”

“I wanted to,” Klaus admitted. “But he may be the only person alive who knows where they are,”

“That’s why tomorrow, we have to search the neighborhood for abandoned buildings or some kind of hiding place that a kidnapper would use to hide his victims,” Violet said. “Now I don’t know about you but touring this penthouse tired me out. I’ll see you in the morning.”

She gave her brother a quick hug and then disappeared into her room closing her door behind her. Klaus looked worriedly at her door before turning into his own.

________________________________________________________

Sunny was currently crawling around the dark cage, wailing about her current situation and worried about her older siblings who could already be in the bastard’s clutches. Duncan and Isadora sighed as they leaned their backs on the steel bars of the cage. Duncan grabbed Sunny and set her on each of their laps. Sunny looked up at them and even though she couldn’t see them in the darkness she knew that they were looking back down at her with hopeful smiles on their faces.

“Violet…” Sunny whimpered. “Klaus…”

“It’s okay, Sunny,’ Duncan tried to reassure.

“Duncan’s right, Violet and Klaus are going to save us,” Isadora tried to reassure.

Sunny nodded her head slowly but continued to cry. Sunny was immensely worried about her brother and her newly found older half-sister. She saw how Olaf look at Isadora, although she didn’t fully understand the implications, she knew it was nothing good. Especially since Duncan and Klaus get super mad and defensive whenever Olaf touches Violet or Isadora. So she was worried about Violet even if she didn’t fully understand why she should be worried about her sister. She was also entirely worried about her older brother. Sunny didn’t understand inheritance law seeing that she was a toddler in unfortunate circumstances, but she did understand that Olaf only needs one Baudelaire alive, so if he has Sunny what did that mean for Klaus? And since Violet is Beatrice’s daughter, once he catches Violet what did that mean for Sunny? These two questions continued to repeat themselves in her mind.

Her thoughts were put to a halt as she could hear someone approaching. Duncan and Isadora could hear the entrance to wherever the fuck they are open. They both shuffled to their feet. Duncan quickly scooping up Sunny in his arms. Isadora pulled her brother to the middle of the cage, she hoped that if they weren’t near the outside of the cage, Olaf would have a difficult time reaching in here and grabbing one of them.

They could hear his footsteps circling the outside of the cage. “Oh, come on, orphans. I’m not that bad, am I?”

The children didn’t answer him, they stayed huddled together.

“I’m in an extremely good mood and do you three want to know why?”

Sunny’s stomach shifted, she had a feeling she knew what he was gloating about.

“Good thing for you, baby, your big brother is not very keen on me harming you,”

“Klaus…” Sunny whimpered.

“Not enough to trade the Snicket girl, though.”

“Why would Klaus trade in his older sister for his younger sister?” Isadora asked. “Your plan is highly flawed,”

“Just leave them alone,” Duncan yelled at the villain. “Aren’t our sapphires enough? Let Sunny go and leave Violet and Klaus alone!”

Olaf gave a cruel laugh. “Have you twins realized that you’re in this predicament because of the Baudelaires and Snickets?”

“We’re triplets!” Duncan yelled angrily. “And we don’t blame them for your decisions,”

Olaf shrugged giving Duncan a cruel laugh. “Ah, the secrets I could share,” he replied tauntingly. He took out his spyglass, moving the dials on it until a ray of light escaped from the lens. He pointed the light at the children. Duncan slightly pushed Isadora and Sunny behind him. He pointed the light at each child, smirking. All three children’s eyes hurt from being so sensitive to the change in light. He pointed the light solely at Sunny. “Like the secrets that your own brother won’t tell you,” he teased. Sunny’s face dropped.

“Birdcage?” she asked the villain, which was her way of asking, “Like what you did to him when I was shoved in the birdcage?”

Olaf looked at her confused for a moment. He wasn’t sure what she meant entirely but he slowly nodded her head. “I’m sure I can tell you that and more,” he told Sunny. “I could tell all three of you orphans such scary, scary things.”

“Fuck off,” Duncan said.

“I can tell you all you want to know about your parents and maybe even why the fire happened,”

“We can figure that out ourselves,” Isadora told the man.

“I highly doubt that,” Olaf said. “You're currently stuck in a cage, orphans. I am your only source of information. Maybe we can strike up a deal?”

He shined the light exclusively on Isadora who closed her eyes. “Don’t even look at my sister!” Duncan hissed angrily.

Olaf laughed. “Do we have to go through this again?” He asked tiredly.

“Brother?” Sunny asked glaring at Olaf. Olaf shined the light at her. Unsure of what she was saying. She looked to Duncan and Isadora. “Down,” she demanded.

Olaf smiled a wicked smile as he looked at the toddler. “You want to learn your family secrets?” he asked the toddler.

Sunny nodded her head as Duncan held her tighter. “Down,” she demanded again.

“Detailed answers like that will cost you,” Olaf warned Sunny. But curiosity killed the cat. Sunny was already determined to learn as much as she could so when Violet and Klaus rescued her she can do her best to relay the information.

“Sunny, what are you doing?” Duncan asked.

Sunny ignored Duncan’s answers as she asked him to put her down. He looked to Isadora who merely shook her head. Not truly liking this. Sunny kicked Duncan until he finally set her down. Sunny inched her way to the end of the cage, she glared out of it as Olaf shined the spyglass on her.

“Somebody’s eager to learn,” Olaf said laughing.

“Fuck you,” Sunny muttered. She hoped Olaf didn’t hear her, she didn’t like to admit it but he scared her. She knew that some part of him already knew the truth.

He looked down at her again, grinning entirely. He began to unlock the cage, Duncan and Isadora both getting nervous. “What are you doing?” Isadora asked.

“Where are you taking Sunny?” Duncan asked.

Olaf smirked as he grabbed the toddler. Sunny tried to show the man absolutely no fear. As he held her, he looked back at the two Quagmires who rushed worriedly to the side of the cage.

“Don’t hurt her!” Isadora cried.

“Give her back!” Duncan cried.

“I won’t hurt her, orphans,” Olaf called back as he carried Sunny away from the Quagmires. “ Not yet...at least,” He called back chuckling.

“Oh shit. Oh shit,” Duncan said aloud. “This is bad. Why did we let her do that?”

‘She’s figuring out the mysteries of her parents and maybe ours and Violet’s father,” Isadora said trying to stay positive.

“He could kill her,”

“He won’t do that unless he had Violet or Klaus in his clutches,”

“We still shouldn’t have let him take her,”

“She’ll be fine. She’s tough,” Isadora reassured although her brother could tell that she wasn’t too sure. “He’ll bring her back soon,”

“I hope so,”

_____________________________________________________________

Klaus ran from 667 Dark Avenue, he didn’t know entirely where he was running to but it felt too familiar for him to be cautious. He ran down the street a couple of blocks, he turned behind him to make sure no one was following him. He continued to run until he reached a neighborhood. His heart was on his sleeve. He looked around and saw the row of fancy houses. His running slowed down a bit when he looked down the street and saw the home that he had been raised in, standing. Completely untouched by the flames that Klaus would have imagined destroyed his home. He sped up in excitement. Could it be...he was finally waking up from this nightmare that had been plaguing him?

“Mother!” He called out happily as he reached the front door of his old home. “Father!”

He continued to call out for either one of his parents. Each of his calls was getting more desperate and more pleading. Finally, he reached Sunny’s nursery to find both of his parents looking mournfully into Sunny’s crib.

“Mother?” Klaus asked nervously. “Father?”

Both his parents turned to look at him. Their disappointed faces were enough to make Klaus want to run and hide. “W-where have you been?” he asked. He wanted so much to hug both of his parents, tell them all about his and Sunny’s adventures but something kept him from wrapping his arms around them. Neither one of his parents answered. They merely shook their heads at him dismissively. They walked from Sunny’s crib to her window, barely paying any attention to their son.

“Mother?” Klaus cried out confused. “Father?” he peered into Sunny’s crib. She wasn’t in there. Where was Sunny? He asked himself. “Where’s Sunny?”

That was when his mother turned around sharply to fully acknowledge him. “We were going to ask you the same question,” Beatrice barked angrily causing Klaus to flinch.

“Where is your sister?” his father asked sternly. Klaus became tongue-tied. He never had his parents this angry with him, it made him uncomfortable.

“I don’t know,” Klaus admitted meekly. “I can get her back, though,”

His parents laughed. “Don’t make another promise you can’t keep,” His father told him. Klaus frowned.

“I’m sorry. I did my best,” he pleaded.

His parents were having any of it. “Your best?” His mother asked. “Your best wasn’t good enough, Klaus. Count Olaf has your sister,”

Klaus could feel the tears in his eyes. “I know. I know. I’m trying to get her back,”

“How do you expect to get her back?”

“I’ll think of something,” he pleads

“You? Or Violet will think of something?” his mother asked him.

He looked down ashamed. “I’m sorry. You have to believe me I did my best,” he begged.

“You had only one job, Klaus. Protect your baby sister and you couldn’t even do that,” his father said.

“I tried. Please,” He cried. “I didn’t mean for her to get kidnapped…”

“We trusted you, son,”

“You’ve let us down,” his mother replied.

Klaus wiped his eyes. “I’m...I’m sorry,”

His parents ignored him, turning their backs toward him. He continued to cry and plead for his parents’ forgiveness. Soon, he believes he can smell smoke. “Mother! Father! We’ve got to get out of…” but he stops, he notices orange flames starting from his parents' ankles rising up. In mere seconds both his parents have caught fire, he screams. Trying to put them out, but the flames are too much for him to control. As they burn he continues to apologize to them and even begs for their forgiveness. He sits in the midst of Sunny’s old nursery crying. Watching as two pile of ashes form around him, where his parents just stood. He’s shaking. He’s crying and screaming. He wants out of this nightmare.

“Klaus!” a voice calls out. It’s a small voice, one full of fear and panic. He recognizes the voice almost immediately. It was Sunny.

He stood up, walking past the two piles of ash. I can fix this. He tells himself, wiping a few of his own tears from his face. “Klaus!” Sunny calls for him again.

“I’m coming sunshine!” he calls back as he runs through several different rooms of his old house. “I’ll save you, Sunny!”

He can hear a cruel laugh from behind him. “Are you sure about that?” the voice hissed in his ear.

“Klaus!” Violet yelled in his face as Klaus’ eyes shot open. He looked around his bedroom. His breathing was shallow and quick.

“V-violet?” he asked. Glancing around the room.

“Klaus...what’s wrong?” she asked worriedly.

“I...I had a bad dream,” Klaus whispered.

“I can see that,” Violet said. “You kept screaming and yelling that you’re sorry,”

“I’m sorry I woke you,” Klaus said trying to hide his shaking.

“Do you wanna talk about it?” Violet asked. Klaus shook his head.

“I’m...I’m fine,”

Violet sighed as she sat down on the ground. “You blame yourself still, don’t you?”

He shook his head. “I failed them,” He whispered.

“Who’s them?”  Violet asked. “The Quagmires and Sunny?”

He shook his head. “No,” he answered.

“Then who?”

“My parents,” He whispered.

“They don’t blame you…”

“How would you know?” he asked. “They asked me to keep Sunny safe and I haven’t been able to do that at all,”

“Because Olaf won’t let you,”

He shook his head. “I’m a failure,” he whispered.

“Klaus, don’t do this to yourself. We’ll save her.” Violet reassured. “Now go back to sleep,”

He looked around his room nervously. He didn’t want to finish his dream. As bad as his nightmares can get, that one was pretty tamed. He didn’t want to endure anything worse than that. He noticed Violet didn’t get up from her spot on the floor. “What are you doing?’

“I’m going to stay in here until I know you’re okay,” she explained to him.

He sighed but gave her a grateful smile. “You don’t have to,” he explained.

“Go back to sleep,” she told him as he laid back down. He tried his best to close his eyes and allow himself back into a nice sleep but there was a part of him that was too terrified to continue the dream. He tried like hell to get his mind off of his parents and what they would think about his little sister’s predicament. He couldn’t help but blame himself. It didn’t matter what anyone tried to tell him either. He knew deep down Sunny being kidnapped was his fault entirely.

He tried to go back to sleep but wasn’t successful, unfortunately. The rest of the night all Klaus had done was toss and turn in his bed, each time he closed his eyes all he could see or hear were the disappointing faces and tones of his parents. Violet kept true to her word, she had stayed the rest of the night, laying on his floor. She had made a make-shift bed out of pillows and blankets that she had brought in from her room. But even with her right there Klaus couldn’t get back to sleep.

So when Jerome knocked on his door announcing to the children that he had made breakfast. Violet and Klaus hurried to get ready for their day with Jerome. The children were very cautious as to met with Jerome in the kitchen closest to the front door. Jerome had explained to the two kids that Esme had already left for work so that it would simply be the three of them today. That didn’t bother any child because they much preferred to hang out with Jerome than with Esme. Once the two children finished breakfast, Jerome would take the children to some of their favorite places in town. Violet was happy to see that her favorite exhibits at the Verne Invention Museum had not been changed since the last time her father took her, she was happy to take another look at the mechanical demonstrations that had inspired her to be an inventor when she was just two years old. Klaus was delighted to revisit the Akhmatova Bookstore, where his father used to take him as a special treat, to buy an atlas or a volume of the encyclopedia. Jerome had offered to buy Klaus and even Violet a few books if both children were up for it. Violet and Klaus had searched the aisles of the bookstore looking for a book for Duncan, Isadora, and Sunny. Jerome would take the children wherever they asked to go. And for a moment, Violet and Klaus were able to briefly forget all of their troubles and focus on the joy and excitement of being home again. Klaus hadn’t been in the city in a long time, the last time he was here was when he still lived with Count Olaf. As Violet and Klaus took turns suggested where they should visit, Jerome told them stories about their mother. Violet and Klaus would listen as Jerome spoke of stories and stories involving their mother. When Klaus and Violet had asked about their fathers, he didn’t have as many stories of them then he did about their mother. “Esme is the one who knew your fathers,” he had explained to them.

Once the afternoon was coming to a close, the two children and their guardian would head back to 667 Dark Avenue, and the children would get lost hopelessly lost in the penthouse every time they decided to leave a room. Violet had left her bedroom to go brush her teeth and could not find her way back for an hour and Klaus had accidentally left his glasses on a kitchen counter and wasted the entire afternoon searching for them. This seemed to be their lives in routine for the next couple of days.

They would wake up to Jerome offering them breakfast, Jerome would treat them to a fun morning out where they would return home in the afternoon. The two children would wonder where in the world Esme and Gunther were. They didn’t like knowing that Esme was alone with such a notorious villain. They wondered what day will be the day where they find her dead body and Gunther went after Jerome. Three days had passed and the children scarcely saw Esme during the day only at night they would see her and she would announce to them that the In Auction was closer and closer and that she and Gunther were planning the best one yet. Violet and Klaus also noticed that when Esme was home and not at work, she would scarcely make any effort in finding the children and hanging out with them. As if she had forgotten all about the two new members of her family, or was simply more interested in lounging around the rooms in her enormous apartment rather than spending time with the two half-siblings. Violet and Klaus barely minded that she was absent so often. They much preferred spending time with one another or Jerome, rather than participating in endless conversations about what was in and what was out.

Even when the two would spend quiet hours in their rooms, the children didn’t entirely have a splendid time. Although Jerome had bought Violet some tools, he begged her to use them as quiet as possible. If Esme knew she had tools in her penthouse she’d flip because tools have been out for quite a while. Even Klaus, whose special interest was a quiet one especially compared to Violet’s, Jerome had asked him to be careful and to not let Esme catch him with books seeing that books had been out for quite some time. So even in the comfort of his own room, he was afraid Esme would pop in randomly and catch him reading. Another reason why neither sibling could really focus on their hobbies was that in the three days that slowly passed, the two siblings only caught a glimpse of Olaf which worried them. What was he planning that made him leave them alone? They wondered what he could be doing to the Quagmires and Sunny. They even listened each time he spoke hoping he’d give off clues as to where he has hidden them but no such luck for the two siblings.

Even though the two siblings were bored out of their minds, they couldn’t help but fear what the Quagmires and Sunny were going through as Count Olaf’s prisoners. They knew that the Quagmires and Sunny could be experiencing things that are so much worse than it was hard to get through each passing day. With each passing day, their worry for their friends and baby sister felt like a heavy load on their shoulders, and the load only seemed heavier, because the Squalors refused to be of any assistance.

“I’m very, very tired of discussing your little twin friends and your baby sister,” Esme said rudely after the third night of Violet and Klaus moping around her apartment. “I get your worried about them but it’s boring to keep blabbing on about it,”

“We didn’t mean to bore you,” Violet explained as she and Klaus glared at Esme. She didn’t point out that it is terribly rude to tell people that their trouble bore you.

Jerome sighed. “Of course you didn’t,” he replied. “The children are concerned, Esme, which is perfectly understandable. I know Mr. Poe is doing all that he can,”

Klaus scoffed at this. “But maybe we can put our heads together and come up with something,”

“I don’t have time to put my head together,” Esme explained. “The In Auction is coming up, and I have to devote all my energy to make sure it’s a success. Tonight, Gunther is taking us all out to dinner…”

“What?” Klaus asked.

“Gunther is taking the four of us out to dinner,” Esme repeated rolling her eyes. “Are you deaf, orphan boy?”

“W-where?” Klaus asked.

“Oh, how wonderful!” Jerome said.

“Yes, it is wonderful, isn’t it,” Esme replied, glancing over at Klaus. “Try not to embarrass me, orphan boy.”

“I think I’ll just stay home,” Klaus responded. Esme looked at him with utter annoyance.

“No, you will not just stay home,” she responded. “You and Violet are going to come celebrate the In Auction with us.”

“But…”

“We’ll be more than happy to,” Violet said.

Klaus turned to Violet as if she was crazy. “What are you doing?”

“Just trust me,” she responded.

Klaus looked worriedly at his older sister.

Esme stood up clapping her hands. “Let’s go,” she said tirelessly. “We shouldn’t keep Gunther waiting,”

Klaus stood up slowly as Violet followed behind him. The two children followed their guardians out of the penthouse and down the stairs from their penthouse to the lobby of the building. With every step, Violet and Klaus couldn’t help but feel that they were getting closer and closer to Olaf’s clutches. During the walk down, Klaus’ eyes focussed a rather long time on the elevator door. It still puzzled him how there were two pairs of doors only on the top floor. He paid attention to each floor, noticing how there was only a single pair of doors. It was odd to him. Even when the four had reached the lobby where he could see Olaf in his Gunther costume waiting by the front door making sure to hide his face from the doorman, he noticed that even the lobby only had one pair of elevator doors. Klaus couldn’t help but realize that this made absolutely no sense. Why would an elevator only have doors on the top floor and not on any other floor? He asked himself as he could feel Olaf’s glare intensify. He turned his head from the elevator's doors. He didn’t know if he was right but he knew that in the slight chance that he was he didn’t want Olaf knowing that he was figuring it out. So he focused his gaze on anything but the elevator doors. But the only thing on Klaus’ mind was the elevator doors.

[blackteaandbones]

Um hi idk if you accept prompts but I love your writing and I was wondering if you’d write something where Bea is hurt/sick but hides it so they can complete a mission. It makes it way worse and eventually the group finds out, preferably by dramatic reveal (like collapsing or something). Ava panics and maybe even blames herself and they have to talk. The group reminds bea that she has worth outside of like her training and fighting abilities and that they care about her.

I don’t generally take a lot of prompts, (mostly because I’ve been having a bitch of a time writing for the last two years) but this one sparked a few ideas,  so why not?

“Damned if you Do”

Ava/Beatrice

Part 1/2

“You're a damn fool.”

“I know...”

“No. You don't know. If you knew-” Mary snaps, pulling the thread tight and tying off another stitch, “you wouldn't have done what you did, and Ava here wouldn't be trying to keep your blood inside your fool body where it belongs instead of letting it spill out all over the floor while I try to put you back together. If you knew,” she adds, jabbing the needle in again and ignoring Beatrice's wince, “you would have stayed at your post instead of  swooping in like prince-fucking-charming and getting yourself impaled!”

“Language,” Beatrice chides weakly.

“Language?” Mary scoffs rolling her eyes over Beatrice's shoulder at Ava. “Language, she says to me, after scaring the shit out of everybody for no goddamned reason.”

Beatrice sighs. “Ava-”

“Ava was fine!” Mary cuts her off. “Weren't you Ava?”

“Oh, no. I'm staying out of this.” Ava would have raised her hands in surrender, but she has one arm  wrapped around Beatrice; holding her up while Mary works to close the gaping hole in her side, and the other hand pressing a blood-soaked wad of fabric that had once been one of her sleeves over the exit wound in her back. They'd lost precious minutes once they'd made it home to the safe house and gotten Beatrice into her bed, peeling off her armour and cutting her out of her habit, leaving her in only the bra and loose pants she wore under her skirt (Ava is holding her respectfully okay?) and she hadn't been able to bear to let go of her any longer than necessary throughout.

Luckily, Mary had been too pissed to comment on her handsiness, though Ava knew she'd noticed.

“Coward,” (fair, but hey!) Mary mutters, snipping the last thread. “Okay, let's do the other side, then we'll wrap her up and leave her to think about what she did.”

Instead of moving Beatrice, Ava switches places with Mary so that Beatrice can lean forward into her shoulder while Mary stitches up her back. It's not perfect, but they don't want to lay her down until they're done, or they'll just have to sit her up again to bandage everything, and according to Mary, the less she's moved the better.  

Ava isn't complaining, and Beatrice doesn't seem to be in any hurry to let go of her either, clutching the front of Ava's shirt in white knuckled fists while Mary peels the bloody fabric loose and douses the wound with antiseptic. Beatrice hisses through her teeth, a whimper catching in the back of her throat.

“Talk to me,” she breathes.

“Uh...” Ava instantly forgets all words ever. “About what?”

“Anything.”

“Okay, um... “ words, words, words... “How does Moses make his coffee?”

“How?”

“Hebrews it.”

Beatrice snorts into Ava's chest.

“You're right,” Ava agrees. “That one was terrible. How about... What’s a missionary’s favorite kind of car?”

“She gets a sword through the gut, and I'm the one being tortured,” Mary mutters under her breath, (because she's a jerk who hates fun.)

“A convertible.”

That one actually gets a chuckle out of Beatrice, her shoulders shaking in the circle of Ava's arms.

“Hold still, or you're going to have more than one hole in your gut!” Mary grumbles, but Ava can see the hint of a smirk at the corner of her mouth. (busted!) She's almost done, the flow of blood slowing to a trickle as she pulls the ragged edges of the wound together.

One more. “How long did Cain hate his brother?” She pauses for dramatic effect. “As long as he was Abel.”

“I take it back,” Beatrice groans. “No more talking.”

Ava gasps in mock affront. “I'm hilarious! You don't know what you're missing.”

“We'll take our chances,” Mary answers for both of them. “There.” She sits back, wiping the sweat off her forehead with a bloody hand. “You're all done. I'll send Camilla in with some of the good drugs while Ava gets you cleaned up, then we can all get together and talk about how much trouble you're in.”

“When did we stop talking about it?” Beatrice sighs. “I can do that,” she adds when Ava reaches for the bowl of warm water and rags Camilla had left with them before fleeing Mary's wrath. “I'm not a complete invalid.”

“You were literally just impaled,” Ava says, holding the bowl out of her reach. “I think you can let someone else take care of you for five minutes.”

Beatrice frowns, but she doesn't protest when Ava sets the bowl down beside them on the bed and wrings out one of the rags. Ava holds out a hand and Beatrice reluctantly offers one of her own. Ava takes it reminding herself that this is medicinal touching, and there are no hormones allowed in medicine (really, this whole teenage libido thing is getting ridiculous. Time and place much?) She does one hand, and then the other, wiping the dried blood from Beatrice's palms and between her fingers; trying to forget with every swipe of the rag over soft skin how much worse this could have been.

No one had realized she was even wounded until the fight was over. It had been chaos; the plan fucked sideways from their first move, but Ava had been handling it. Mary and Lilith had her back, Beatrice and Camilla were running the secondary ops, and the Halo was even behaving itself; they were going to be fine. And then suddenly Beatrice was there between Ava and a sword (a sword she totally would have countered by the way,) and it all went tits up. Camilla was left hanging, the plan in tatters, they fought their way free only for Beatrice to promptly pass out, hands clamped to her side.

Ava remembers a lot of shrieking and panicking after that (most – okay all of it hers.)

“I'm sorry,” Beatrice says, eyes downcast, shoulders bowed. “I didn't mean to worry you.”

I wasn't worried,” Ava lies, wiping the last of the blood from her wrists and getting a fresh rag before moving on to her waist.

Beatrice glances up through her lashes (unfair,) a subtle tilt to the corner of her mouth that says she knows exactly how full of shit Ava is. “My mistake.”

(To be continued, because it’s nearly 4am and my hands hurt.)