#really hope my blood sugar doesn't fucking drop

[mymarifae]

stupid fucking titty window distracted me on my first few watches (don,xt talk to me ok) but he has his hand held behind his back here... clutching his chips for dear life.. hiding the way he's shaking.........

#oh kakavasha for a guy who actively risks his life in hopes that something will finally just fucking kill him #and who is so sure of the value of his life (nothing) you sure are very scared to die huh #think it's like. he wants to die because he doesn't want this life and given his track record it seems death is his only way out #but he wants A life #but he doesn't really believe that's possible at this point so he just gets more and more reckless #how far can he go until his lucky streak finally runs out...? #but he wants a life!!!!! why can't his luck ever give him the opportunity to claim his freedom and have A LIFE!!!!! #also he's just like. scared. natural fears #he doesn't want it to hurt. he doesn't want to suffer more right before he breathes his last breath #and he's scared of the unknown aspect of it. what's after this? where will his existence go? will anyone even remember him? #will anyone even care? #he seems to be more at peace with the unknown and the 'pointless' struggle against death after his conversation with acheron #now he just needs to finish surviving his last gamble.. and maybe he can have A life #ok brain turned off my blood sugar just dropped ibcan't finish this coherently #AVENTURINE. AUSGH

[theroseandthebeast]

Yuletide 2023 Recs, Batch Two

17 recs for Castlevania: Nocturne, The Chronicles of Riddick, Crimson Peak, Critical Role / EXU Calamity, Daisy Jones & The Six, The Devil Went Down To Georgia, Dracula, Dungeons and Dragons: Honor Among Thieves

The Safety of Abstaining, Courteously, Olrox/Original Male Character + Mizrak/Olrox

Love is a dangerous thing for all vampires. It makes them vulnerable. Olrox has had the misfortune of experiencing this first hand. He is not doing that again.

Strange Allies, Olrox/Mizrak + Mizrak/Richter Belmont

Mizrak can’t figure out why Richter Belmont is still alive.

Three Principles, Dame Vaako/Vaako

Society among the Necromongers is cruel and ruthless. Death is the natural order of things, and life is to be endured. This is the story of the man and woman who would become Lord and Dame Vaako. Don't forget: you keep what you kill.

Blood in the Snow, Lucille Sharpe/Thomas Sharpe

Before the house, there was the earth, and the blood.

tempter or the tempted, Asmodeus the Lord of the Nine Hells/Zerxus Ilerez

“The tempter or the tempted, who sins most?” - William Shakespeare Zerxus won't give up trying to save Asmodeus. Asmodeus won't stop trying to damn Zerxus.

You Wanna Try That Again?, Billy Dunne/Daisy Jones

There are so many lines in the sand between Daisy and Billy - boundaries they won't cross, words they won't say, urges they won't give into. Right up until they do.

The Devil Went Down to Georgia Station, Gen, The Devil & Johnny

Me, I was just about ready to play the fool myself when the Devil arrived. You see, the sector sheriff had died a little while back, and the spaceways were so infested with bandits that no law-abiding ship dared to fly. The bandits didn't come stop at Georgia Station for a drink and a fiddler either—nobody comes down here unless they've got a resupply contract, for there's only one safe route in. I was feeling my old wanderlust, what with being cooped up in one place for so long, and besides my free meals were getting smaller by the day. That's why, when the Devil came sauntering into the station's only saloon and slid into the booth across from me, bringing out her fiddle from Devil-knows-where, I listened when she made me a deal.

The Calm before the Storm, Gen, The Captain of the Demeter

The Demeter's log was not the only tale of note to be found upon the ship.

Sanguine, Gen, John Seward

John is having bad dreams. Most of all, he dreams that Quincey might not be as dead as everyone thinks he is.

Into That, Edgin Darvis/Xenk Yendar

Edgin returns the Helmet of Disjunction. Xenk rewards him.

Not Certainty, But Hope, Edgin Darvis/Xenk Yendar

In which Xenk proposes. "I'm sorry, but I'm going to need you to repeat that," Edgin said. "I have come here to ask your hand in marriage," Xenk said in that annoyingly calm voice, like dropping in on someone at their local pub and asking them to marry you was just like popping next door and asking for a cup of sugar from the neighbor, "that we might infiltrate a temple of Ilmater and discover the means by which so many happy couples have disappeared."

Deception Check, Edgin Darvis/Xenk Yendar

Ed had lied a lot. Did lie a lot. There was a lot of lying, was his point. But the trouble and the lying did not typically involve Xenk Yendar, and this was proving to be the problem. (or, Edgin Darvis attempts to lie and rolls a one.)

Legends & Lore, Edgin Darvis/Xenk Yendar

Xenk gets truth potioned and doesn't say anything interesting at all.

Ink of the Covenant, Gen, Edgin Darvis & Holga Kilgore

Holga and Edgin get drunk. Edgin gets a tattoo. Standard 8th day in Targos, really.

it's a (fake) love story, baby (just say yes), Edgin Darvis/Xenk Yendar

“Back up,” Edgin said. “Explain how that’s connected to me going with you to a wedding.”

Perception Check (Roll for Romance), Edgin Darvis/Xenk Yendar

"I bet Xenk fucks like a metronome, too. You know." Holga makes a highly suggestive, repetitive gesture. "In, out. In, out. No variation. Same exact rhythm every time. Boring." Edgin stares at her, torn between horror and fascination. "You've really thought about this, huh?" (So has he. Unfortunately.)

you'll find us in the meadowland, Edgin Darvis/Xenk Yendar

Xenk let himself in with a slow turn of his key in the lock. The obedient door let out not a solitary creak or groan. It had better not; he plied the thing with oil as often as he cleaned any of his gear. There was a little moonlight seeping in through the window - enough to see the shape of the man rifling through his things. He was standing at Xenk’s desk, tucked into the corner and lined by shelves stacked with holy texts. Not his most valuable, of course - he wouldn’t be so careless as to keep the most precious of his collection here - but any one of them would feed a hungry man for a few days, at least. And yet this man wasn’t hungry, and he was no ordinary thief. Xenk judged this not only by the strong slope of his shoulders and broad back and the fine weave of his coat but also by the fact that he had recently been awarded the highest honours the Lord of Neverwinter could bestow. No, Edgin could want for nothing; even he could not have spent his rewards so quickly. There was only one explanation. This was an affliction of the soul.

#yuletide #yuletide 2023 #castlevania #castlevania nocturne #the chronicles of riddick #crimson peak #critical role #exu calamity #exandria unlimited #daisy jones & the six #the devil went down to georgia #dracula #dungeons and dragons #honor among thieves #fic recs #fic rec

[iridescentclaws]

Diabetes at least be consistent challenge impossible gone wrong at 3 am

Vent under the cut

I had my first case of low blood sugar last night and it was really horrible. I was getting ready to go to the hospital but it finally starting raising back up. I had a little too much sugar out of fear. I know about the 15-15 thing, I just was panicked and the symptoms were overwhelming, I felt like I was dying. And again was my first time.

Since the 7th when they switched me over to a different brand of insulin my blood sugar has been almost perfect. Highest it would get is MAYBE mid 180s. Often times it would just graze 180-181.

Yesterday something was off. Post lunch, blood sugar seemed almost unaffected according to my CGM. Dinner was normal. But then like 2 hours later it RAPIDLY dropped down. I hadn't been exercising and I didn't take any short acting insulin, I hadn't needed to since I changed brands (Except for 1 occasion).

Nothing different happened other than the fact that I may exercised less that day. I only did 20 mins after breakfast.

BS spiked high only after lunch today which is very abnormal. I've never had it high after lunch. Only breakfast back on the toujeo insulin.

I was hoping that I could finally have some peace but instead my sense of security is just gone. I'm paranoid and I ate a little too much carbs & sugar today (really just dinner) out of fear. Doesn't help that I had to replace my CGM today so yknow, it's likely incorrect at times

I'd just like to finally fucking break free from this anxiety and stress. I wasn't doing well before I was diagnosed and now everything feels an even bigger challenge than before. I have no energy. Most of my time and energy is eaten up by diabetes in one form or another. I still get really upset remembering I can't have certain foods anymore. I'm scared to be alone at all because what if I get low BS and then I'm so weak again that I cant stand up. Just.. ugh...

I'm sorry this is all I ever post about lately. I'm still grieving over my diagnosis.

#themoongrowls

[clelery]

Forgot to tell my dad he needs to drive me to the walk thing tomorrow and now he’s mad at me

...whoops?

also, sorry about the lack of daily compliments, i’ll catch up tmrw, promise!

#this gives me #a kid not telling their mum that they had a project due the next day vibes #that's pretty much what it is actually #fuuuck #well he was just irate with a project so maybe he's not too mad at me? #i think he's more irritated #at his project than me? #he seemed kinda off when i started asking him #so maybe that's it #i needa shower #oh god ima be miserable tmrw #really hope my blood sugar doesn't fucking drop #that would be miserable #and so embarrassing #ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh #tag spam

[romeulusroy]

Unraveling (James Rhodes Oneshot)

Character/s: Rhodey, Wanda, Avengers mention

Word Count: 1,429

Inspired By: Alone In A Dark Room by Gilanares

Requested: Hey!! I love it so much when you are writing drabbles from just words, I mean you need so much creativity for that! You are amazing! Could I possibly request the words Desperate and Broken glass with James Rhodes from Marvel pretty please? Thank you very much! 💕💕💕 ~ anon

Tag List: @dontdowhatisayandnobodygetshurt @myriadimagines  @lilyswritings  @encounterthepast @writerdream22  @brithedemonspawn  @megnotfound  @ladyeliot  @locke-writes @thedarkqueenofavalon  @fangirlsarah16  @randomfandomimagine @amirahiddleston  @diana-westmoon @glitchybrit @lost-girl-of-onceuponatime

A/N: I did just finish rewatching Age of Ultron, so this is based off that :) I really love this idea!!!! I hope you like it too my love!!! Thank you for requesting!! It's angsty, it's dark, and I'm in love!!!! By far one of my most favorite fics ever!!!! :D I know it doesn't fit the prompts exactly (?) but these are the idea that came from them!!! Feedback is always appreciated 💜💖💜

Summary: Wanda never left your mind.

FIC MASTERLISTS / TAG LIST / WANNA REQUEST A FIC?

Your psyche wasn't just broken, it had been destroyed, shattered.

Fucking obliterated.

A house fire. The sort of crime scene that never left a body. That burned, and burned, and blew the whole place down. Nothing but ash left. Black char. The weakened skeleton of every room, a ghost of the past. This is where the bed was. The table used to be here. Family photos left here, now they were nowhere. Gone. Your language trapped in the past, confined to the liminal space of the Long Before and the Before. What was, what used to be, but could no longer. Not here. Not now. Not in your state. Remnants of your former self. A haunted house. Gaps in memories, in understanding, in time itself. Set ablaze by the match she forgot she lit. An accident. A catastrophe waiting to happen. That's what it was. The house dipped in gasoline long before she ever came along. If not her, then someone else. If not then, some other time. It was inevitable, as life and death are. A diagnosis lost in a metaphor, like sweetening your cyanide with sugar.

It was a lost cause.

So were you.

He blames himself. Of course he does. The same man, with his heart of his sleeve, carried his burdens for the world to see. Rarely did they see it, though. If he'd caught it. If he noticed sooner. If he'd smelled the smoke. The gasoline. Heard your screams. The red in your eyes lingered far longer than it should have. It left them rosy. Lifeless. Scared. Bursting blood vessels pooled through your iris, loud and bold and monstrous. Bright. All seeing. It happened to everyone. All of you lost in your own personal Hell. A form of torture one had to admire. It was effective. It was fast. It was anything but painless. The Witch, she crawled into your deepest, darkest fears and settled in. She made herself comfortable. She lit the match. Disoriented. Dangerous. Defensive. Desperate. Fighting because it was the only thing you found do. It was the last thing you could do. After that, there was nothing. It was the end. Calling out for help, crying out until you tasted blood. No one was coming. No one was going to save you. Too late.

It was always too late.

You couldn't put it into words. None of them bothered, but you? Your teeth rattled in your skull, gums left inflamed. Holy. Your tongue chopped off. Lips sewn shut. Impossible. How could anyone explain it? Humanity was gone. Extinct by their own hand. A mass suicide. Whatever happened before, whatever lead to the end of man, that was for you to decide. She didn't bother. It was her job to get to the punchline. Bodies dropped where they stood. Limp, but warm. There would have been a time where you would have broken every rib as a means of saving them. Cracked their sternum open. But you couldn't move. Part of you didn't want to, that was the sick part. You were compliant. You liked it. A faceless, nameless thing left gurgling on their own blood. Countless like them. Strangely serene, to be able to breathe freely. Arrogantly. Behind you, you heard the low, guttural groan of someone you knew. Big. Green. Choking on his own liquefied insides. Hulk. Dr. Banner. Next to him, a God. The Soldier. The Assassins. The Mad Scientist. And finally, your Rhodey. Succumbing to the same mysterious end as if they were like them. You had a feeling, one that made your heart race, that you were the one causing this. Saving them from themselves. Putting an end to the madness. It wasn't supposed to, but it brought a smile to your face. Easy. Effortless. Horrifying.

You were annihilation.

You couldn't shake the feeling. You couldn't scrub it off. Every reflective surface, checking, feeling, your hands patting at your cheeks, your lips, making sure you weren't wearing that smile. Every time you closed your eyes, it was there. That place. That world. The sick satisfaction. It made you want to vomit. It made you want to tear your hair out at the root. Claw yourself to bits and pieces if it meant escaping this vision. Or, a prophecy. Could it really happen? Were you capable of such things? They befriended her, The Witch. They trusted her. You could not help but get lost, the line between real and not burned to death. Stepping through a doorway, surrounded by death. No matter where you ran, no matter what you said, you were cornered. The deafening silence too heavy. Too much. Crushing. Suffocating. His hand on your arm, sudden, bringing you back too fast. It was jarring. It was too real. A passing side-effect. Residual. Nothing more.

It was never supposed to last.

It had never been her intention. The others, rocked but stable, beginning to move on. Forward. There was red in your eyes, in your brain, seeping between memories and thoughts, between what is and isn't until nothing exists anymore. Until you can't trust yourself. Flecks, nothing more, freckled in the whites of your eyes. The only sign. The smallest. No one had the time to look that closely, no matter how hard he tries to convince himself. Your Rhodey, always so hard on himself. You considered yourself lucky, at least this one was alive. An accident. A fluke. She never intended for it to happen, for it go this way. Get in. Get out. Scare you, that's was all, just as she'd done with the others. Her powers, her magic, it stuck. It loved. It burned holes in your head. There was no extracting it. Not by her own hand. Not with any technology. They tried, they really did. He made them exhaust every last effort. Men pretending to play God still couldn't save you.

Go figure.

Too small, too strong, it was a beautiful curse dotted in your subconscious. There was no formal diagnosis, no plan of action to combat, only an apology. Rarely did that fix anything. There's no saying what would happen, if it would wear away through time, if it would end up killing you. It was all they could offer. There were tests, studies, monitors. They did all they could, you truly believed that. They still were. That's was too many years ago. Lifetimes. Shaking you from that dream, that world, another universe you were convinced in the end. It was too real not to be. Imprisoned in one world, your body in another. Sometimes you tried to resuscitate, bring them back. Sometimes all you could do was close your eyes, pray it would be over soon. Seconds or hours, one time days. That was it. The door wasn't just closed, it was padlocked. It wasn't a hunch, it was an understanding. A loss you've come to terms with: one day you would never come back. One day, it would all be over.

Catatonic, that was the word they used. A perpetual state you've found yourself in since that fateful day. Unmoving. Unseeing. Unfeeling. Your eyes the color of rubies. He sat beside you, your hand in his, rigid, as if the rigor mortis were already setting in. The bags under his eyes grow heavy, the worry lines in his forehead etched deeper. He is paying the price as well. There was no luring you out, bringing you back. Not anymore, now that it's stronger. It was a waiting game. A gun with enough enough bullets for the two of you. All hours of the day, it happened. Getting lost, he called it, but you knew exactly where you were going. What you were doing. Only she knew what you saw, what you were so fearful of. You've never told them, not even him. He is too good to know. Too sweet. Saving him from that was the one thing you could do. When you came back, because for now it was a matter of when and not if, it was always the same story: hysterics, confusion, panic. His words can only do so much. You're exhausted, you're shaking. He'll lead you somewhere safe, somewhere familiar, too much smoke in his lungs. Things will be okay for a while. You will laugh. You will recognize him. You will love him, and he will love you. But it is always there. It will always come back.

It is part of you now. The fear. The disease. The reality that, if you wanted, if you lost control, you could kill them all.

#requested #writing #james rhodes #james rhodes drabble #james rhodes oneshot #rhodey #rhodey drabble #rhodey oneshot #war machine #war machine drabble #war machine oneshot #avengersz #avengers drabble #avengers oneshot #marvel #marvel drabble #james rhodes x reader #x reader #drabble #oneshot

[alicanta77]

It has been a very, very long time coming, but I finally did it. I finally sat down and read through Tomorrow Never Dies. And, because I love you, I took the time to make live notes while reading. So, please enjoy seeing my thought process while reading the entirety of what has to be the best fic I've ever read.

Chapter 1

• "Sweet as sugar but just as artificial..." THIS LINE. Lines like this are the kinds that make a story - it's so simple, yet allows you to see the character so well. Bonus points for fitting this line so seamlessly into the rest of your writing style. 1000/10 WRITTEN SO FUCKING WELL!!!!

• AWWWW STRONG MAN JISUNG!!! I LOVE IT!!!

• All of these powers... man oh man am I curious as to where this is going to lead.

• Pffft Chenle turning into a bear - HE WOULD.

• "You had no thought process, no questions running around your mind, you weren’t thinking of anything. You just did what you were told." OH THIS IS TERRIFYING. Just the idea of mindlessly following orders makes my blood boil ‐ this is such a suffocating idea.

• Everything about this chapter has given me the creeps.

• Oh... there goes Doyoung and Ten 😶

Chapter 2

• Dead children. Lovely.

• Oh it's kinda bittersweet that they ended up in Donghyucks childhood home - leaning further towards the bitter though.

• WHY THE FLIP FLOPPITY FLYING FUCK WOULD YOU KILL DONGHYUCK. AND YOU HAD TO MAKE IT WORSE WITH THE WHOLE "Then it finally dawned on you as to why he couldn't see the future this morning. It was because Donghyuck didn't have a future to see." WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK FELIX.

• CHENLE TOO?!?!?!?!?

• I don't trust Jimin. I think nothing good can come out of this.

• And YES it would be fucking insulting if they ended up back at the lab.

• "Don't worry. Everything's going to change." I THINK IT'S A LITTLE LATE FOR THAT SENTIMENT. *donghyucks ghost is glaring at you*

Chapter 3

• "This power managed to somehow be everything you had, whilst also being the reason that you had nothing." THIS TYPE OF LINE AGAIN!!! I don't know what it is about it, but lines like this always seem to bring about a feeling of uncanniness even if the subject itself doesn't necessarily bring about that feeling. YOU ARE A MASTER AT WRITING LINES LIKE THESE!!!!

• "'We really hoped we'd be able to save you all...and... I'm so sorry we couldn't." SORRY DOESN’T FIX EVERYTHING JIMIN. SHUT UP. LET ME MOURN HYUCK AND CHENLE IN PEACE 🤧🤧

• No Mark, bby, don't blame yourself *sobs* it wasn't your fault *sobs more* no one could've known they'd die *glares at Felix*

• Yeah. Wtf. How did they know Ten was dead??? Uh.... sus.

• NO THE FUCK YOU DON'T. YOU WILL NOT KILL JAEMIN. IF JAEMIN DIES, I'M GONNA BE BIG MAD.

• It's too quiet. I'm getting nervous.

• THEY KISSED! FUCK YEAH!!!

• "'I think I love you'" 💀 What do you mean you think?! You've been stuck with eachother for literally forever and you STILL aren't sure???

• Jaemin isn't feeling safe and I'm gonna throw a fit.

• JUST FUCKING LISTEN TO JAEMIN YOU DUMB TWAT - GET THE FUCK OUT OF THERE.

• Rule #1 never trust anything with 'orb' in its name. Wattpad has ruined that word for me.

• "'Because they didn't need to. We never left.'" 💀💀💀

• "‘I need you to promise me something. No matter what happens, remember I love you. No matter where we go, or what happens to any of us. I love you. Thank you for being my friend.’" My heart dropped to my ass while reading this. JAEMIN 😭😭😭

• JAEMIN 😱😱😱😱

Chapter 4

• The lab people are playing fucking mind games and I'm not here for it.

• If anyone else dies, Felix, I'm gonna go bat shit crazy in your inbox.

• No. No no no no no no no no no. Those boys better not fucking be GASLIGHTING my girl Y/N. IF SHE SAYS THAT SHE SAW JAEMIN DEAD YOU'RE SUPPOSED TO BELIVE HER. YOU'RE SUPPOSED TO BE FRIENDS, YOU'RE SUPPOSED TO BE BELIEVING HER, NOT FUCKING MAKING HER FEEL CRAZY. WHEN ANOTHER ONE OF YOU DIES, DON'T SAY SHE DIDN'T TELL YOU SO 🤬

• How was something as absolutely sinister as this series born from your sweet, angelic mind... it's BEAUTIFUL!!

• RENJUN TOO WTF FELIX?!?!? I may have some choice words for you once I finish this 😑

• CHENLE'S ALIVE?!?!?!?!? 😥

• Oh jaemin 🤧🤧🤧

• Just so you know, Chenle being alive does not make me feel any better about any of the events that have happened so far.

Finale

• The lab using Renjun's abilities to cover up Jaemins death is so fucking insulting. To both Jaemin and Renjun's deaths.

• "'I thought there were no heroes left in this world'.... 'There aren't.... They're just kids trying to survive.'" THIS IS FUCKING BRILLIANT. The two paragraphs that these lines were written in, summed up the Entire. Fucking. Story.

• Oh no... I forgot that Jeno still thinks Y/N is dead 😥 poor angel 🤧

• THEY FOUND JISUNG 😭😭😭😭

• YOU TIED IT BACK INTO THE TITLE AND NOW I'M FUCKING SOBBING 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

• Lowkey thought that "Tomorrow never dies" was gonna be the last line though.

• WTF WTF WTF WTF WTF WTF WTF WTF WTF WTF WTF WTF WTF WTF WTF WTF

• FUCKING LEAVE JENO THE FUCK ALONE YOU FUCKING PSYCHOTIC FUCKING BITCHES 😭🤬

• "“It’s okay.” You managed to choke out a  whisper. “It’s okay, I love you.”" I'm mad. And I'm sad. I'm smad. And I'm hungry but that's beside the point. AND IT'S ALL YOUR FAULT.

• WHY DID SPOTIFY HAVE TO PLAY DON'T NEED YOUR LOVE WHEN I'M READING ABOUT SAD STUFF 😭😭😭

• "“Well thank god somebody finally did that.”" I cackled.

• "It was officially tomorrow. And, finally, after all you’d been through, you had something that you believed in. Tomorrow never dies." I WAS FUCKING RIGHT, IT WAS THE LAST LINE!!!

• Omg I'm literally sobbing; I did not realize how unprepared I was for this to end. I genuinely want more.

• I'm gonna start a petition for a oneshot about how they move on. I need it. I'm sure the rest of your readers need it.

General Notes

Felix, my love, my darling, my angel ‐ why have you done this to me??? I'm screaming, crying, sobbing, throwing up.

But, on a serious note, this has to be one of the most well written stories (fanfic and non-fanfic) I've ever read. The plot was amazing. The plot devices you used were amazing. The dialogue and characterization - everything was just absolutely perfect. And I can genuinely say that I wouldn't want to change anything about this fic. It felt like everything that had happened in this fic, was supposed to happen like that. This fic would not work if anything changed.

In particular, I was quite thrilled that the romance between jeno and the reader was very subtle, because that's not the story that this fic was trying to tell. It was much less about romance and instead focused very heavily on the power of friendship and not giving up, which is very refreshing to read.

Thank you for sharing this absolute masterpiece with your audience, my love. Your writing is so, so beautiful - I don't think I'll ever be able to get enough of it.

And I wasn't joking about that oneshot.

this reply has been a very very long time coming but i kept rereading this because it is quite possibly the best review i've ever had 🥺

the fact that you took live notes is just incredible to me and i can't express how much i loved hearing about your thought process

chapter 1

yessss this line was one of my FAVOURITE lines honestly - i feel like i could have played on that idea a bit more but jaemin wasn’t a focus of the early chapters so idm too much but i was so happy when i came up with that

chenle would 100% mess with people if he could shape shift and i stand by that

YES the way they were turned into mindless sheep was so important to me i really wanted to convey how unaware they were of their actions

we love and miss doyoung and ten (i’m still sorry brooke)

chapter 2

the way i SNORTED with laughter when reading that first bullet point ari you make me laugh so much

originally it was just gonna be a random home but i thought that would hurt more to make it donghyuck’s 😇

...yeah... sorry but really not sorry cause i do kind of love that line and the thought that he can only see into his own future and that’s why it stops

again...sorry...

you have fantastic instincts my dear

YES it would be insulting so they can’t let that happen no matter what

chapter 3

YOURE PICKING UP ON MY FAVOURITE LINES - these are honestly the kind of lines that i adore as well and i just love that you love them too

YES YOU TELL JIMIN THAT ARI

it’s all getting very sus ngl

noooooo... i’m sure jaemins gonna be fine - yeah i felt bad when you said that

quiet is never a good sign

FUCK YEAH THEY KISSED

yep if unsure ari you should trust your instincts

the “we never left” i was obsessed with - i knew i wanted that as a line in this chapter from very early on

y/n trust jaemin to save all your asses challenge failed

jaemin’s real cute but also i wanted a sad last line so there you go

chapter 4

ari: “if anyone else dies i’m gonna go batshit in your inbox” me: ...

IM SORRY BUT I HAD TO SPLIT THEM UP AND THIS WAY HURT THE MOST SO I CHOSE IT

somehow i think i do better with sinister and twisted stuff

YESSSS CHENLE’S ALIVE

sorry chenle being alive is kind of all i have to offer you at this point

chapter 5

it honestly is so insulting but also... pain so i that’s why i chose it

a majority of me writing TND was thinking “what causes the most pain” and going with that option

YES THOSE TWO LINES ARE THE ENTIRE STORY - like they’re not heroes they don’t want to be they don’t want any of this, they just want to live

again... jeno think yn is dead... pain

i was gonna kill jisung but i changed my mind (andy youre welcome) but fun fact if i hadn’t changed my mind they would have found him crushed by the falling bricks :))

I HAD TO TIE IT BACK INTO THE TITLE I ALWAYS KNEW I WANTED TO DO THAT

not sure what the 16 WTFs are about but they sound about right

im sorry your smad but im also not cause pain is the point of this story

DONT NEED YOUR LOVE NOOOOO 🤣

yeah jimin needed a good bash on the head

I HAD TO MAKE IT THE LAST LINE

im sorry i left you in such a state :(( but also really over the moon you enjoyed it

oh my - honey you are way too nice to me thank you so much i mean TND took a year of my life to write and well over that to plan so to have it all together and hear the things you’re saying about it just means so much 🤍

yeah i really didn’t want the romance to be the main focus cause it wasn’t and i didn’t want it to overshadow the hell that these kids have gone through - ahhh i’ve always been nervous about that so hearing it was good is such a relief

thank you for enjoying my little mind game of a story and for calling it a masterpiece i- thank you for being os supportive my love

also you will have to start a petition cause i don’t have plans for a one shot without people wanting it

#fic: tomorrow never dies #asks #moots #my wife 🤍 #ari :)) #🤍 words

[ditttiii]

sugar sweet! || ksj (m.) || ♡

↣ pairing: kim seokjin x reader (established relationship)

↣ genre: FILTH, pwp, smut with sprinkles of fluff & humor (bcoz let’s be real, kim seokjin would be the best.boyfriend.ever). Long story short, it’s explicit, nsfw and not for minors. 

↣ warnings:  use of restraints (tied hands), food play, edging, fingering, oral, food being used in ways it shouldn’t be (this is fiction, do not bring anything that has sugar close to your coochie, it ain’t a good idea), blindfolded & restrained reader, drool-play (someone spits in someone’s mouth), cunnilingus, top!seokjin, (kinda)dom!jin? (he’s sweet about it), language.

↣ wordcount: 2.7k

↣ summary: Jin loves sweet things. Jin loves you. add it all together, stir the mixture up, and ta-da! There he has his dessert! Enjoy ♡

Or alternatively where Jin basically uses you as his damn plate and loves every second of it! (it’s porn y’all there is no summary)

↣ A/N: Hellu yes! i m back from d deepest pits of hell to write more smut that nobody asked for. this was written for purely selfish reasons and because i love the living daylights out of the one who goes by WWH (eff ya bighit for doing my man dirty with the remix), so here have some delicious, sticky, sweet smut!!

also written for the ‘A Long Hot Summer’ event hosted by @thebtswritersclub​. the member i picked was seokjinniee and my sense was taste. (was being the keyword, bcoz this shit snowballed into covering almost all other senses acjahjasb. what is pacing? thee does not knouu) anywhooo, i hope u enjoy this silly, sinful read and i ll meet u at end with a bottle (or barrel; watevr u need) of holy water!!

(the read more tag starts now coz we a hoe from the get go~)

You shiver when you feel the coldness of the chocolate syrup spread over your torso. Biting your lip, you let your toes curl as the liquid spreads over your skin, smoothens and slides from the dip of your clavicle to the swell of your breasts. Breath hitching, you moan out softly when the syrup spreads down to your belly, where your boyfriend swirls it around with his finger before said finger dips into your navel and you arch. 

 Sensing the liquid sliding down because of your position, Seokjin tuts and pushes you back down. "Stay." He commands, the usual jovial voice, deepening into something darker, more sinful and you nod, biting down a whine. If you were in any other situation, you'd have retorted that you aren't a dog, but something about Jin's dominating persona in bed always has you going quiet, yielding. 

 "God, you look appetizing love," 

 You whimper when you feel him inch closer to your skin, the soft puff of exhales tickling your skin and warming the blood that races through your veins. With a blindfold over your eyes, your vision is dark with the only thing that you can rely on being your other scenes. The flavoured, sweet fragrance that wafts upto your nose is what tells you that it's chocolate syrup. Considering how much Jin adores sweets, it doesn't really come as a surprise to you. 

 The first touch of his lips has your breath catching, fists clenching from where they are tied against the headboard. Hands tied, eyes covered, every little peck and glide of his tongue leaves you aching, the sensation somehow more potent than usual, and you squirm as the heat in between your legs, grows. 

 The sharp edges of his teeth scrape against the skin of the column of your neck, before he softly bites your collarbone, tongue slipping out and licking the chocolate syrup pooled in the hollow, after.   

 The minty, fresh scent of his freshly shampooed hair reaches you, and it's as though even with your eyes shut close, you can picture Jin leaning over you. You see behind your closed lids, as his broad shoulder cages you in, droplets of water trickling down from his wet strands to his defined chest, before they drop down on you, warm with his body heat, and slide down your skin to the sheets below.  

 "Jinnn..." You moan out, and in response, he moves from your neck to capture your lips. Full, soft lips caress yours, and you strain against the handcuffs, itching to run your hands through his silky, long strands. When his lips part, you blindly chase them, back-arching and figure growing taut as you shift to have his soft, sweet lips around yours.

 "Shush...let me take care of you okay?" His soft voice whispers to you, long fingers caressed from years of playing the guitar, cupping your cheeks, and angling your face closer to him. With trembling lips, you mumble out an equally soft, "okay," before his lips capture yours again. The remnant taste of the chocolate syrup on his lips is sweet, sticky and your lips part, tongue coaxing itself into his mouth and tasting the chocolate inside. Your tongue slides against his, gliding, tasting, every inch of his moist cavern, and you moan when his plush lips take your lower lip between them, sucking in the soft flesh. 

 Jin's breath over your skin is warm and moist, faintly smelling of his mint toothpaste, and somehow all of it's enough. The fragrance of his shampoo, the feel of his breath, the stray water droplets over your skin, the slightly rough material of his towel in between your thighs—all of it's somehow enough to make up for your lack of vision. 

 His long, lithe fingers dance down your sides, and in response, a soft mewl peals through the back of your throat. His lips make their way down your soft curves, tongue swirling around your erect nipple before his lips lock around it and suck. 

 Gasping, you curl your fingers around the headboard as the sensation shoots heat straight down to your core, wetness pooling out of you. Every lick, pull, graze of his lips combined with his teeth and tongue against your peaks has your back arching, the knot of pure heat and need in your belly tightening, as your breaths grow shallower, exhales breaking and turning into hitches. 

 He nuzzles his nose over your ribs, tongue peeking out and licking the last drops of syrup left, and the tickle of his long hair over your skin, after the soft, slightly moist feel of his tongue, has you squirming, and you rise to grind yourself against him. But the hand he has over your belly pushes you back down. 

 Huffing, your lips part to complain, but before a word can slip out, two of his fingers slip inside, and you moan. The slightly rough pads of his fingertips glide over your tongue, and the sweet taste of chocolate blooms over your taste buds. When his fingers drag out of your mouth, sliding and pressing the lower lip in, warm trails of your saliva follow, from your mouth down to your belly button.

 Biting, he sucks the skin right over your navel, and you arch, knowing full well that soon a bruise is going to bloom over the abused skin. The slight sting mixed with the pleasure of having his tongue dip into your navel, has you crying out, head tipping back. 

 "Ji...jin," you gasp out brokenly when the cold syrup slides down against the side of your thighs, and over the sensitive skin of the juncture where your legs meet your soaking heat. 

 Bucking, you squeak when one of his fingers suddenly circles your soaking heated opening, slowly caressing the folds, before it curls around the bundle of nerves above. Thick, warm arousal coating his fingertips as he rubs your clit. Slow, soft, lazy strokes push your trembling body to the edge, the knot in your belly tightening and curling, as it gets ready to snap, but before you can reach your high, Jin's moving away, and you whine at the loss of his touch. 

 As soon as he leaves, the coldness of the room hits your naked body like a dozen tiny sharp needles, and you shiver, legs clamping closed, as you pull your knees to your chest to keep warm. 

 "You alright there love?" Jin asks from somewhere a few meters away, and you groan, "fucking tease."

 "Aishhh," he tuts playfully, the pads of his steps against the floor, announcing his approaching figure before you feel his soft breath hit your face again. "Weren't you planning on cursing less?" 

 "I was, but then you decided to act like a fucki—mmph!"

 "Aish, such a dirty mouth, for such a nice girl." He sighs, nose inching closer and nuzzling against yours, something pressed tight over your closed lips. "Ah, I'll have to clean it again. Oh well come on now, open up love," His low voice coos at you, and warily you part your lips just a little. At the feel of something slightly rough against your tongue, you squeak; lips clamping shut quick as you push your head back into the mattress below. 

 "Love?"

 Grunting, you shake your head, face turning to the other side and away from your boyfriend, in refusal. While you trust Jin with your life, he has in the past also made you eat some very questionable things, and there is no way in hell that you are trusting his food choices with a blindfold on. Sighing at your stubbornness, he moves whatever it was that was pushing against your lips, and you breathe an almost silent sigh of relief.

 Relief that very rapidly turns to wariness when the same hand instead travels lower, near to your dripping heat. The ridges of your boyfriend's bony knuckles softly caressing your skin on the way down. 

 Squealing, you clamp your legs shut, but he is quicker, and before you can push your legs close all the way, his hand slides down and cups your dripping pussy, the roughness of something unknown pushing against your throbbing clit. 

 "Jin!" You admonish, back straining to distance yourself from his hand. 

 "You really don't trust me enough love," You hear the pout in his voice, and you almost want to reassure him, but suddenly he is pushing his hand closer to your wet heat, and something in his hand crushes under the force. You hear it in the soft 'squelch' that resounds after and feel it in the way something spurts against your pussy, instantly wetting your already oozing heat, as juices cover your folds and thighs. 

 "Shit! Jin! What the hell—"

 Mid curse your words, however, get caught in your throat, because the next second, his soft, plush lips are replacing his hand as his tongue licks the juices away. A broken moan rips out of your chest, your neck tipping back, face turning to the side until you feel the slightly cooler sheets against your flushed cheek. 

 His lips, lock around your clit, something between them pushing against your nerves, before it disappears, only for more juice to pool out from in between Jin's cushiony lips a second later and over to your leaking slit. 

 The liquid mixed with your arousal slides down your clit and to your opening. But before it can reach the end, your boyfriend's skilled tongue slips out and licks it dry, in one long stroke. The obscene, wet slurping sound reaches your ears, resulting in even more heat being pooled into your belly, as your core grows impossibly wetter. 

 Your walls clench around nothing, arousal oozing out with every single flick of Jin's tongue against your folds and every gentle suck of his lips around your clit, until you are a writhing, panting mess. The knot is so so tight, and you're almost there, but you just need that last little push—

 And before you can complete that train of incoherent thought, you are keening, back arching off the bed, as two of Jin's long, crooked fingers delve inside, your walls clamping down instantly and gripping him tightly, as they try to pull him further in. 

 Sweat beads across your skin, low over your back, and you shiver, the coldness of the room combined with your boyfriends' ministrations, causing shivers to race down your spine. 

 "Jesus, ohmygod, Jin, oh god, please..I..ah!"

 Your words die on your red, abused lips, tongue growing heavy as his fingers find your g-spot and caress it, fingers teasing the soft, sensitive spot over and over until you can no longer handle the onslaught, and with a strangled cry, you hit your peak. 

 Hands straining against the restraints until the skin under starts burning, your eyes under closed lids clench, as your entire body gets rammed with waves upon waves of undiluted pleasure. Toes curling, and fingers curving around the headrest, your figure grows taut like a string drawn too tight, as electricity zaps down your spine and leaves you trembling. 

 Chest tight with lack of breath, when you finally inhale, it's with a twitching, spent figure. 

 "I would never hurt you, baby, you should know that by now," Jin says, his voice soft and breathy, as his fingers tuck a few sweaty strands that were plastered against your face behind your ear. 

 "I do! Of course, I do, it's just...," your spent, soft voice trails off as you try to think of a way to tell your boyfriend that while you trust him, the same could not be said for his food choices. 

 "Well, now I am hurt," This time you clearly hear the pout in his voice, and you have to bite back an amused grin. 

 Kim Seokjin is nothing if not theatrical and extra. 

 "Well...," you tail off, before continuing, "I could make it up to you, free my hands, and I'll show you just how sorry I am?" 

 Despite how you hear Jin's breath hitch at the change in your tone, words dripping with innuendo and unadulterated lust for him, he still doesn't free you. Clearly he’s using whatever last speck of self-restraint and control he has in him, to not give in. 

 "Make it up to me now, tell me, what was it that you so rudely refused to eat?" 

 Your brows furrow, as you open your mouth only to clamp it shut again. Too wary of your boyfriend's food choices, you hadn't really allowed yourself to taste or smell whatever it was. The only knowledge that you have is that whatever that 'thing' was, it was juicy.

 'Yep, really narrowed it down. genius.'  

 Tamping down the sarcastic voice in your head, you say, "I didn't really taste it?" 

 Words meek and tone confused, your statement ends up being more of a question. 

 Jin 'tutts' again, and you are tempted to hit him in the knee for being such a drama queen, but then refrain yourself from following through with the urge.

 "Well I guess it can't be helped then," You hear him say, before one of his thumbs curls around your lower lip, over your teeth and pries your mouth open. 

 Feeling his faint breath on your face, you try to breathe in to see if maybe you can get a whiff of something that way, but he is still too far away, and the overpowering fragrance of his shampoo drowns out any lingering traces of another scent. 

 When you feel his thumb dig into the soft underside of your mouth, your tongue unconsciously seeks it out and licks the digit, laving it in your spit. 

 Jaw locked in place, you feel Jin's body heat curl around you as he hovers before something wet touches your lip. Tongue peeking out, you swipe it across your bottom lip and sense something wet and viscous against your buds? 

 Wait a fucking minute—

 "If I didn't love you as much as I do, I would have run for the fucking hills, you kinky bastard." 

 Jin huffs, "Yeah well too late, now tell me, what was it?"

 "Bossy kinky bas—Ouch! You pinched me!"

 "And you cursed, you asked me to pinch you every time you curse remember? I am just being a loving, doting, helpful boyfriend,"

 Snorting, you grumble under your breath, “helpful my ass,” before your tongue sneaks out to lick your lip again. 

 All the back and forth between you two had taken too long, and now you couldn't taste anything, whatever traces of the flavour were left in his spit, were evidently washed away by your gulps. 

 "Do it again." You insist. 

 "And you say I am the kinky one," 

 "Jin, I swear to all things holy if you make one more smartass—"

 Not waiting for you to finish, Jin swoops down, his full lips gently capturing yours in a sweet, light kiss, his lips only softly brushing yours as he waits for you to take the lead. 

 And lead you take—biting his lower lip and pulling it before your tongue slips inside and finds his. 

 Letting you do whatever you want to, he just curls his tongue softly around yours. Tongue slipping into the underside of his, you instantly know what the thing, or well now that you know better, 'fruit' was. The sweet, tangy flavour of it is easily identifiable, and this close to you, his breath gives you the confirmation that you need. 

 Breaking the kiss, you lick your lip, wiping away the combined spit of you and Jin both, before you tilt your chin up and say, "Strawberry."

 Getting the answer that he had been looking for Jin hums before he leans down to peck your lips, hands coming up to untie the blindfold. 

 "You sure that's all you tasted?" He teases when your eyes finally squint open, and blushing you squeak out, "Kim Seokjin! You and your kinky ass—"

a/n:- i come bearing barells & bottles!! i hope you liked it ✨ please, validate me. Lol, and oooh have a good day ahead boobooo!!! (i m sleepy & thus unnecessarily affectionate) 

#kim seokjin fanfic #kim seokjin fanfiction #jin fanfic #seokjin fanfic #bts fanfiction #networkbangtan #ficswithluv #btsghostie #btswritingcafe #bangtanidx #btsgoldnet #btswriterscollective #btsbookclub #bangtanhq #thebtswritersclub #thehouseofbangtan #cypherwritersnet #bangtanfairygarden #jin smut #kim seokjin smut #kim seokjin x reader #kim seokjin x you #seokjin smut #jin x reader #btsfanfic #bts smut #ditttiii #bts fanfic #kim seokjin #kim seokjin scenario

[mother-snake]

🎶Guess whos back🎶 🎶back again🎶

It's me! With more Janus angst! Well, more fluff then anything... It's fluff (did you really think we could pass the 4 year anniversary of sanders sides and I wouldn't send something in?)

So!! The sides are having a huge party to celebrate 4 years. The living room is decked in all the colours of the rainbow. A mixture of all the sides music are playing through the speakers and all their favourite foods are set up. Everyone is in the living room, talking and dancing mostly but Virgil did climb on top of the fridge when Roman took out glitter. Well, everyone is in the living room except for a certain snake like side.

Janus didn't join the party. Hes still in his room in the mindscape. Not from lack of effort from the others. They knocked on his door for half an hour straight with no answer. So they just accept that Janus is going to miss this year.

At least all accept Patton.

Patton snatched Remus from the party and made him lock pick the door open. Patton opened the door slowly -so that if Jan was sleeping it wouldn't disturb him. Patton felt his heart drop when he saw the yellow side's room.

The walls were covered with scuffs and tears in the Victorian wallpaper, almost all the furniture was flipped and destroyed -burns coating some of the edges, Janus' prized record player was smashed to pieces and all of the light bulbs were shattered. Stuttering out a soft curse (holy smokes, fudge, sugar honey ice tea, etc) Patton summoned the others.

Instant chaos. Virgil immediately goes to "oh my god, Janus is dead. I need to pick up a larger work load. Thomas is never going to be able to lie again. Patton is trying to hold back tears and calm down Virgil Logan is looking throughout the room, deducing that there was a massive struggle, some things are burned but only in concentrated places and there is a small pool of blood by some shattered glass. The twins say that they feel some magic from the imagination in the room. The sides decide to follow the clues and go to the imagination to see if they can find anything else.

Luckily for them! The imagination works with a different time! 24 hours in the imagination is one hour irl. So they should be back for the party!!

When they enter the imagination the first thing they see is a bowler hat that is stained with blood and a set of foot prints. They follow it as well with picking up the hat.

Logan notices that the corner is burned and the blood is fresh -still wet and it hasn't darkened yet-

While walking they pay close attention to their surroundings and chat about what movies they want to watch when they get back to the party. The footprints are becoming scarce so they follow the occasional droplet of blood and torn piece of clothing.

They walk for hours with only the birds and setting sun to keep them company. They decide to stop and rest for the night when Logan almost falls in a hole that was hidden by the lack of light. Roman summons a few sleeping bags and sets up a fire while Virgil takes first watch. Switching throughout the night.

The next day continues more or less like it did the day before. Walking and talking.

This time ,after crossing a river, they find a yellow glove soaked in blood, some scales stuck on the fabric. If their hurry wasn't there before it was now. They quicken their pace even more. Leaving the forest they were in and moving into some plains, they thought they heard distant shouting.

"don't let me right now you monster!"

"you have no idea what I'm not capable of when I'm mad!"

"Sooner or later the others won't catch up with you!!"

All with the S' slurred and sarcastic tone that they knew oh so well. They walked up a hill to see Janus tied to a pyre, blond curls a mess and matted with dried blood, clothes torn and some scales torn off. They looked to the insane bastard that thought kidnapping the snake was a good idea to see not just one bastard. But over 30 bastards!!

Janus got kidnapped by a cult.

The cult was very stereotypical; black cloaks, a few sacrificed goats and white porcelain masks with painted scales on their face -wait a sec... Scales? Yes scales. Deceit has a cult devoted to him- and thats when it clicks for them. They want to sacrifice Janus to appease Deceit. This cult doesn't know that Janus IS Deceit. The sides face palmed when they realized how dumb these cultists are.

The cultists seem really annoyed with Janus' complaining so they gag him all while he was yelling at how he was going to skin these fucking people alive to make a skin suit -Remus was proud- but sadly. Threats don't mean much if you're tied to a pole and about to be set on fire. The people continue to prepare the dumbest sacrifice ever while the others try to figure out how to free Janus.

Virgil looks closer at the items the cultists have laid out. A spider corpse, an octopus tentacle, a bulls horn, a cats eye and a few crow feathers... This wasn't a Janus cult. This was a Dark Side cult. Virgil let out a heavy sigh and told the others his plan.

Remus and Virgil turned into their dark forms. Spider legs coming out of Virgil's back along with six more eyes sprouted, his hair also turned purple. Remus had oozing green tentacles rip from his back and his skin took a sickening green tinge, his white hair stripe also turned neon green. They teleported behind the cultists and let out animalistic growls.

The cult turned around to see the people they worshipped having a pissed off expression on their face and instantly knew they fucked up. They fell to their knees and begged for mercy all while Virgil chewed them out for kidnapping the actual Deceit -thats when that threat of a skin suit really sunk in- and how creepy it was to try to burn someone alive and to at least have some class when sacrificing someone- that went on for a while.

The other three snuck behind the cult and untied Janus, the second they untied his hands Janus ripped off the gag and turned into his dark form.

He grew six arms and his eyes glowed with a intense yellow. Golden snakes wrapped around his arms and then he let out a low hiss.

Janus sent the snakes to tie the cultists arms behind their backs and stepped down from the pyre. To be honest; every side there thought that Janus was going to murder 30 people and actually skin them, but that is NOT WHAT HAPPENNED!!!

No one expected Janus to yell at them like a disappointed mother for 2 hours straight and keep their mouths shut with his powers.

"-AND NOT ANOTHER THING! If you ignorant self centered pricks ever, and I don't mean ever, lay a single hand on another side again. YOU WILL ALL BE BURNED AT THE FUCKING STAKE!-" he went on for a while...

The ironic thing was that Janus was the youngest side so this was equal to hearing your toddler threaten arson.

After Janus was done he turned around and snatched his glove from the nearby table and changed back to his normal form all while mumbling about "some insane crazy assholes who fucking kidnapped me in the middle of scale care, fucking pricks." The other sides just followed him. Virgil and Remus changing back as they quickly caught up with Janus.

Remus could not stop laughing, Virgil was shocked that Janus could be a disappointed mother without having children, Roman was just amazed by the fact that the snake was still standing after some of those injuries. Patton wanted to give him a hug.... Ok multiple hugs... Fine he wanted to snuggle. And Logan? Logan just wanted to know more about the dark forms.

The walk was quicker back then it was to rescue the snake all while listening to Janus complaining that the pricks broke his record player and that they had the bloody AUDACITY to kidnap him! All they could think about was when Thomas called Janus the main mean girl and that they couldnt even deny it anymore.

When they made it back they patched up Janus and let him take a shower before sinking back out to join Thomas, who was just watching the office for the millionth time (pick another show sanders, I beg of you) he did perk back up when he realized that the sides were back. Then he saw the pissed off look on Janus' face... and he asked what was wrong. That set JanJan Binks off again as the others were getting a bit tired of hearing this again for the fifth time that day. So like how you distract a child.

They put on 'Chicago, the musical' and let the songs of Roxie Hart distract the snake. It worked, he shut up real quick!

The sides vowed to never let Janus get kidnapped ever again because that was.... An experience, that they DO NOT want to do again!

Thankfully the rest of the day went off well.

~~~~~

And that was an idea from 1am from someone who should be asleep! I was gonna make this angsty but all I could imagine was a pissed of Janus yelling at 30 adults.

I doubt you would want to use this but feel free! I hope this is as funny as my sleep deprived brain thinks it is!

(I'm sorry for any typos, it is very late)

(I got it! Just forgot to post it yesterday ^-^')

One, Yes. I love it. The beautiful angst... And ferral janus is something I absolutely die for.

(would say more but my brain has short circuited and I'm in boi, strict teach... But I'll put more later!)

#Tw blood #virgil sanders #thomas sanders #roman sanders #janus sanders #Roman sanders #Remus sanders #Patton sanders #logan sanders #tw kidnapping

[vfdbaudelairefile13]

Chapter Thirty-Nine:

The One Where Lemony Makes a Vastly Formidable Decision While Violet Makes A Very Frightening Discovery

 

 

There was an awkward silence in the taxi as both men realized what Lemony had just said out loud. 

“Lemony...you’re not serious?” Larry asked in an uncomfortable tone.

“I get that it’s wrong...but...what choice do I have?” Lemony asked the waiter, his voice cracking.

“Several,” Larry replied. “Besides, you were just complaining that you thought you had too much blood on your hands. Now you want to add some real blood?”

“It’s just Olaf. He doesn't deserve to live,” Lemony said. “Especially not anymore.”

“But he’s not worth the time you’d spend incarcerated.”

Lemony laughed. “I’ve been both dead and on the run for nearly fifteen years. I’m an expert at not getting caught.”

Larry laughed. “Well, you do what you feel you need to do. I won’t stop you and I won’t look at you any differently, friend. I’ll continue to help you in any way to help these kids.”

Lemony sighed. “Thank you. Do you need a ride back into town?”

“Actually, yes I could use one. I’ve been asked to help your brother investigate a recent fire.”

“Jacques is researching the Baudelaire fire?” Lemony asked worriedly.

“No...the more recent fire?”

“There’s been another fire?”

“Yeah...you didn’t hear?” Larry asked. “We’ve lost two more members in the fire. One of their children died in the fire, as well.”

“What? How old?”

“Just thirteen years old. The other two children are being sent to a boarding school that you and I are familiar with.”

“Prufrock?”

“Yep.”

“Fucking lovely,” Lemony commented. “Wait, do you think Poe will take the Baudelaires there next. Since he took those kids…”

“Uhm...Mr. Poe isn’t in charge of their affairs.” Larry interrupted.

“Then who is?”

“The city’s sixth most important financial adviser,” 

“Wait...isn't that…” Lemony asked as Larry nodded. “How did thathappen?”

“I’m unsure. But we’ve been told she hasn’t had any affiliation with VFD since that night. She quit it all together. Now spends her days solely focusing on fashion and her own wealth.” Larry explained.

“Well...that’s good at least. Maybe, unlike Olaf, she’s put everything behind her.” 

“Well, why wouldn’t she? It’s just a sugar bowl.”

Lemony laughed. “It was more than just a sugar bowl to her...but maybe you’re right. She moved on. She’s more mature than Olaf. Not fixating on revenge over some petty little object.”

Lemony laughed as he started up the taxi. He and Larry continued their conversation all the way back to the city. Lemony couldn’t help but wonder what was in store for the Baudelaires and what was in store for him. Was he really willing to kill Olaf to end this miserable cycle that he has found himself in? Lemony continued on in conversation but his mind was currently wandering aimlessly. He was feeling distraught, he couldn’t fathom how the idiotic mistakes that he made in his early twenties could fuck up everything this badly. 

The world was filling up with smoke and fire, and it was all his fault. Beatrice and her husband, Bertrand burned to death in their home that they once happily raised their children. Jacques and Kit have not seen their younger brother in nearly two decades and who knows if they’ve stayed close after losing Lemony. Gustav was murdered by a poison dart and drowned in a swamp. Monty had his passion used against him in a cruel murder. Josephine had her fears used against her in a gruesome murder. Two children had lost their parents and have been stalked and pursued by a homicidal psycho who was bent on revenge against Lemony and their own parents. And now, another VFD family has lost their home and their lives. A thirteen-year-old died because of him.  Finally, Violet, his own daughter, had been robbed of a true childhood. She was robbed of having a mother. She was robbed of having siblings. She was robbed of having any family unit other than her father. And it was all. His. fault. 

It didn’t matter what Jacquelyn or Larry said. Lemony knew that this was all his fault. He blindly followed VFD’s orders and the dominoes fell. They’ve been falling for nearly fifteen years now and Lemony desperately wondered just how this story was going to end. Unfortunately, I know how this story ends and it is not a pleasant ending for anyone involved. Even if some people find peace or a ‘happy ending’, they will still have their trauma, their nightmares, their worry that just around the corner more unfortunate events will be there. But in the case of Lemony Snicket, I am sad to say that the conclusion to his story is much, much worse. You can hardly imagine, so I implore you to run and never look back because the further you go into this story, the further down the rabbit hole you go and sooner or later, you’ll be trapped with no way out and you will be forced to endure the Baudelaires’ and Snickets’ tragic stories. My associate and I have already tormented ourselves learning each gruesome detail. Finding useful documents and finding scraps of photographs that help detail and piece together each and everything that has happened in these cases. If you think this is bad or that the story cannot get any worse...I hate to inform you but you are entirely wrong. This story can and will get much, much worse. The secrets of VFD will begin to unravel all around the children but that doesn’t mean their story will get any better. You might think that three children should lead pleasant lives...but that’s not how the story goes.  

He sighed, trying to do his best to keep up the conversation with Larry as he drove them back to the city. He was fighting tears, he was fighting exhaustion. It was weird, Lemony didn’t feel physically exhausted, although he knew that he was, the nightmares made sure of that. Ruining any chance of sleep that Lemony could get. But he did feel both emotionally and mentally exhausted. It was hard keeping up the lies that he told his daughter, it was even harder keeping her a secret to anyone involved in VFD. It was hard to remember what he named his disguise this time and it was nerve-wracking hoping that he wouldn’t be recognized by Olaf. 

If Lemony lived in a simpler world, he would be a man who was never indicted into a secret organization, never convinced to do that heinous action that changed everything. Even if Beatrice and Bertrand had died when their children were young, Lemony would be able to just adopt the Baudelaires and protect them. Then Violet would have siblings. Violet would have a normal life as well. 

Was kidnapping the Baudelaires really out of the question? He asked himself as Larry rambled on and on, not noticing that Lemony was barely paying any attention. Honestly, Lemony wasn’t sure how he was even driving, he was barely focusing on the desolate roads either. Kidnapping the Baudelaires did sound like the best option, he didn’t have to necessarily indict them into VFD, he could take them and Violet and simply disappear. But would the kids go for that? Would Olaf still find them?

Lemony was unsure exactly how Olaf was getting the location of the Baudelaire orphans. Lemony got his information from Jacquelyn, who works under the incompetent Mr. Poe. But how did Olaf get this information...and before Lemony? That part hasn’t made much sense to Lemony since day one. He knew he couldn’t put a stop to Olaf learning the children’s location if he didn’t know where he was getting it. So if Lemony kidnapped Klaus and Sunny...Olaf would find him, discovering Violet. Which he refused to let happen. The vivid nightmares were a constant reminder of what Olaf would do if he knew of Violet’s mere existence. So kidnapping them was entirely out of the question. At the end of the day no matter how much he cared about the Baudelaires, Violet was his main priority. 

Lemony shook his head slightly. Killing Olaf might be the only option. Wouldn’t be the first time that Lemony murdered someone. At this point, Lemony didn’t care what his reasons were. He didn’t care if there were seemingly other options. The only way to end a nightmare is by making sure it no longer exists, and how do you make sure that a human being no longer exists? You kill them. 

Lemony hated that his mind was going to this dark place. But deep down, he knew killing Olaf would be the best option. He will never stop. He will continue trying to hurt the Baudelaires until his last dying breath. So why not make his last dying breath come sooner? 

“Lemony?” Larry asked bringing Lemony back to reality.

“Huh? What?”

“You’re crying,” 

Lemony quickly wiped tears from his face. “Sorry, I was listening...what were you saying?”

“Who’s Violet?” Larry asked.

Lemony’s eyes went wide as he pushed his foot on the brake. The taxi halted to a harsh stop, causing both men to sway in their seats. He turned to Larry. “Who’s Violet?” he asked.

“That’s what I’m asking you,”

“I-I don’t know a Violet…you must have misheard me.”

“No. I’m sure I heard you correctly. You said ‘I’ll never let him hurt Violet’,”

Lemony shook head fiercely. “I don’t recall saying that.”

“That’s probably because you were disassociating,”

“You can’t disassociate while driving,”

“You’d be surprised,” Larry replied. “So who’s Violet?”

Lemony frowned, sighing deeply. “Look, I don’t know what you heard or what you think I said. I’m exhausted. I am on the edge of losing the last bit of sanity that I have left. So can we please just drop it and never say the name ‘Violet’ again.”

Larry frowned but nodded his head. “Understood. You are under incredible stress. Do you want me to drive? Maybe you can nap.”

Lemony weighed the pros and cons of Larry’s suggestion. On one hand, he could get sleep, something that he so desperately needed. But on the other hand, he could have another nightmare or another lucid dream where he will say too much. His eyes threatened to close. He simply nodded as he unbuckled his seatbelt and switched seats with Larry.

The rest of the car, he looked remorsefully out the window as Larry did his best to maintain a friendly, enjoyable conversation with Lemony. Eventually, Lemony stopped replying and began snoring. Larry looked worriedly over at his sleeping pal, he knew this was taking a toll on Lemony but he wasn’t exactly sure why. What was Lemony’s connection to the Baudelaire children? He understood that they were Beatrice’s children and he fully understood Lemony’s connection and feelings toward Beatrice but it seemed to Larry that there was something in this connection that was missing. Something that Lemony was hiding. But he let it go. He allowed Lemony to sleep the rest of the way to the city.

_____________________________________________________________________

Violet paced around impatiently. She wondered where her father was. Usually, she allowed her father the freedom to come and go as he pleased. Knowing that his job called for it but after Jacquelyn had explained to her that he has enemies, she wanted him home as much as possible. She was sickeningly worried about him. She made herself a cup of coffee, glancing at the door every few seconds waiting anxiously for her father to burst through the door. 

It took her a few hours before deciding to use her time productively into finding her mother. She glanced around the apartment for possible hiding spots that her father might put something that he didn’t want to see all the time, in fear that it would break his heart each time he looked at it. She had two different spots for such an item. The first place was the same place that she had stored her failed grandfather toaster, which was under her bed. So she didn’t have to look at it anymore. She ran to her father’s room and threw herself on the floor and frowned when she saw that there was nothing under his bed except pairs of shoes. She sighed but looked towards her second guess, which of course was the closet.

Most people have skeletons in their closet, of course, Lemony Snicket didn’t have actual skeletons in his closet, but he did have metaphorical skeletons in his closet just like a vast majority of people and to Violet’s frustration, he had his skeletons locked away in a briefcase that was locked with a combination. The phrase ‘skeletons in one’s closet’ simply means they have pieces of their past that they would prefer not leave lying around. Because they are painful or incriminating or would create unnecessary clutter. Whether it was because it was beneficial to his personal health if it were hidden away or that he didn’t want anyone else knowing of his dirty little secrets. In the case of Lemony Snicket, both reasons applied. He didn’t want to be constantly reminded about the heart-break that this skeleton delivered to him and he also was trying to hide this depressing truth from his daughter. 

She pulled out the briefcase glancing at it at every angle. She could tell that a mere lockpick wasn’t going to do. She was going to have to crack the combination. She stared at the briefcase with pure determination written across her face. She knew that combinations are usually three numbers. She looked at the lock on the briefcase. When she flipped the briefcase over, she saw a similar insignia. This shocked her to where she dropped the briefcase on the floor and pulled out the spyglass from her pocket, studying the front of it. How have I never noticed this before? She pondered as she stared at both the briefcase and the spyglass. What else had VFD’s signature? 

Her eyes got wide as she grabbed her locket and looked it over. Searching desperately for the familiar insignia. She smiled when she realized that her locket was not branded in any way to the cult that both of her parents had found themselves in. But she did wonder how her father was able to hide this briefcase from her, especially considering the many times that the two of them have moved. She sighed as she took a quick glance towards the front door. Still nothing. She was both relieved and worried, but there was nothing she could do. The only thing she can do is just sit around and wait for him to get home. She debated whether or not to call Jacquelyn and ask her for any updates pertaining to her father. But she didn’t know if Jacquelyn would even give her any updates seeing that her father was being super secretive about this whole thing. 

She glared at the lock on the briefcase, surprised to see that it was not a simple lock. She played with the three dials realizing that this might be a bit harder than she thought. Seeing that, unlike usual briefcase combinations lock each dial would have the digits zero to nine on each, but the one her father possessed was obviously custom-made either for him or for his cult as a whole because each dial had double digits. She turned the dials to see how far numerically it would go and each dial stopped at the number twenty-six. Violet eyed curiously at the dials, if Violet wasn’t an intelligent young woman, she would have only simply recognized that twenty-six was a very odd, but yet very specific number to stop at. But Violet was a very intelligent young woman and although she was right to think that twenty-six was an odd number to stop at, she understood why VFD would give their members briefcases that stopped at that specific numbers.

Going back to her research about how VFD uses codes, she knew that sometimes when coding you can substitute letters for numbers and vice versa. She smiled as she twisted the dials of the briefcase. The first being twenty-two, the second being the sixth letter in the alphabet and finally the fourth. She tried to open up the briefcase but when she tried to pull it open, it made a sharp noise indicating that it was still locked. She sighed. Well, I guess VFD isn’t as narcissistic as I had hoped. She turned all three dials until they were each on random numbers. Can briefcases permanently lock you out if you try too many combinations? She was sure that it couldn’t, but this wasn’t a normal briefcase that she was dealing with. This was some custom-made cryptic briefcase most likely manufactured by a cult in hopes of keeping their dark and terrifying secrets. 

Maybe VFD isn’t as full of themselves as I thought...but maybe my Dad is. She thought to herself as she turned the first dial to twelve for the letter ‘L’, she counted on her fingers to figure out what number the letter ‘P’ would represent on the numerical alphabet, she started from ‘L’ and counted four fingers making the ‘P’ the sixteenth letter in the alphabet and then she twisted the last dial to nineteen for the letter ‘S’. Once again, the briefcase made a harsh noise when she tried to open it. She glared at the briefcase. Okay, so Dad isn’t as predictable as I hoped. 

She then looked down at her locket. Violet, you fucking idiot.  She thought to herself laughing a bit as she began to put the numerical equivalent for her mother’s initials. She had to remember what her middle name was. Her father had told her a few times but it wasn’t information she thought she’d desperately need. She knew that it was the same as her middle initial, ‘M’. She believed her name was Beatrice Morena Baudelaire. She wasn’t entirely sure, but she did know that the way she remembered the first letter of her birth mother’s middle name was simply because she and Beatrice shared that. Another thing that Violet realized that both she and her mother’s middle name’s started with the letter that had her father’s favorite number as it’s numerical equivalent, which was thirteen. Her father had always told her that sometimes even the unluckiest of things can have a silver lining somewhere you just have to look for it. And for that reason, he had always declared that thirteen was his favorite number. To many, it was considered unlucky and cursed but to Lemony it was a number with a bad reputation. As she stole a glance towards the door noting that no one was coming in, she quickly twisted the dials to the second number of the alphabet, the thirteenth, and the second. Again, the briefcase indicated to her that she was entirely wrong with the combination. 

She was getting super frustrated. She was so close to grabbing a kitchen knife and cutting the leather of the briefcase just so she can read the secrets that she hoped it contained. She took a deep breath, slowly calming herself down. She knew if she cut through the leather, she would have to explain to her father what she did. She wouldn’t be able to obtain another briefcase like this one. Well, maybe she could. She wasn’t sure if Jacquelyn had a spare but maybe she could gift Violet a spare but the only problem with that she wouldn’t know what combination her father used so she’d still get caught. 

Besides Violet wanted to be the one to catch her father in his web of lies, not have him catch her in her own web of deceit. She wanted him to learn of her discoveries on her terms, not his. So she knew she couldn’t vandalize the briefcase, no matter how much she wanted to. She didn’t know how often her father revisited the skeletons in his closet and she wasn’t taking any chances. 

She stared intensely at the briefcase trying to think of any other three number combinations her father would potentially use. She’s tried V.F.D. She tried his own initials, L.P.S. She even tried her mother’s initials, B.M.B. In a flash of realization, her frustrated expression turned into one of disbelief. She facepalmed and rolled her eyes at her own silly self. She gave a small laugh as the most obvious combination came to mind. She quickly turned the first dial to the twenty-second letter of the alphabet. Violet. She turned the second dial to the thirteenth letter. Malina. She turned the last dial to the nineteenth letter of the alphabet. Snicket. Immediately, the briefcase popped open. She smiled. Sometimes the most obvious answer is right in your face. She told herself realizing that her father was predictable, just to the level of predictability that you severely doubt. She didn’t think her dad was that predictable but here she was after putting the numerical equivalent of her initials on the dials of the briefcase’s lock with the briefcase completely opened and more of her father’s secrets in front of her eager eyes. 

Violet looked down at the contents of the briefcase and stared at the one thing she wanted to find but she doubted she would. Violet was fortunately correct in her assumption that within this briefcase, her father had locked away the two hundred page book written by the woman he loved, her birth mother, that explained at great length and in specific detail the reason she could not marry him. Violet understood her father’s desire to hide something like this, if it were out in the open, he would find himself reading it over and over again as if his darling Beatrice was bringing him bad news every day and every night of his life. 

She frowned as she pulled out the pages and she gently swiped her fingers across the top of the book. Her mother’s handwriting was so beautiful. The way she wrote ‘My Darling Dearest’ in the header amazed Violet. She glanced at the letter noticing that the first page was torn stained and there was no doubt in her mind that the rest of the pages were tear-stained as well. Violet smiled as she grazed the red ribbon that her mother used to tie her letter together with her fingers. She smiled. She got her ribbon obsession from her mother. She glanced down at the purple ribbon that she had tied to her wrist. 

She decided to tie up her hair before she began to read the letter. She tried her best to be prepared for whatever it was she was about to discover. Her curiosity was taking full control over her as she began to read. She turned page after page, hungry for more answers. The entire time she was admiring not only her mother’s handwriting but her writing skills. She realized right away that her mother was a lot like her father in one aspect when she wanted to be cryptic, she was vague and very confusing. There were parts of the letter where certain details were omitted entirely or things pertaining to VFD were vaguely mentioned. As her mother had explained in the letter, this was due to the fact that she wasn’t sure if the carrier crows who had the task of delivering this letter would be able to find her father. Which that part didn’t make much sense to Violet. Her father was on the run after her birth...wasn’t he? That’s how he ended up with Violet. Everything was alright until after her birth. But that timeline wasn’t making sense in correlation to the one provided by her mother in this letter. From what it sounded like, it sounded like Beatrice was still pregnant with Violet. She even mentions that she is nervous because this is her first pregnancy. Violet didn’t have any siblings, older or younger so she had a feeling this was talking about her mother’s pregnancy with her. Which made Violet think about the telegram. At first, Violet had thought that maybe that was a different pregnancy, but if there was a completely different timeline than maybe she was the baby being discussed in that. It would make sense. Because if her father and mother had any other children, wouldn’t they be with her and her father? A sad thought came to the forefront of Violet’s mind unless she didn’t want me but wanted the other baby. She frowned. She shook her head, trying to convince herself that that wasn’t the case at all. Her mother seemed super excited about her pregnancy, so why wouldn’t she keep Violet? 

All of a sudden a dark thought took hold of her mind. She wondered why her father wouldn’t tell her the correct timeline. Each time he spoke of the tragic events that led to Violet being in his custody, he always mentioned that it happened after Violet was born. That he and her mother parted ways after her birth. But in this letter, her mother is telling a different story. She didn’t know much about Beatrice’s character, so she didn’t know if she could believe everything out of her mouth, but unfortunately, she did know Lemony and she recently learned that her father was a chronic liar. But the question on Violet’s mind was why would he lie about the timeline of events? What was he hiding from her? There was only one reason that Violet could think of for her father lying about something like the timeline of events and she didn’t like the thought at all. She hated this thought. But can you blame her for thinking such a thing? When you don’t have much to go and you have to fit pieces into a puzzle, sometimes you end up with pieces in the incorrect spaces because you jump to conclusions or you force the piece into the spot. Violet wondered if her father kidnapped her after all. She knew that she was biologically related to Lemony, there was no doubt about that. But during separations, there are custody battles and sometimes when one parent does not like the outcome of the custody battle, they do something drastic like take the child and run. Even if the parent is related to the child, the authorities still consider this kidnapping. So could this be one of those cases right now? Her father was on the run and even presumed dead so maybe he couldn’t fight a custody battle or maybe he did but he lost because of his background. So in desperation, he kidnapped Violet taking her far from her mother. Sadly, it was in the realms of possibility. VFD does kidnap children. So they had probably trained both her parents on how to successfully kidnap a child without getting caught. 

Her heart sank. Or did he kidnap me to recruit me into VFD? She shook her head at that nonsense. If he wanted to recruit you, he wouldn’t be hiding all of this from you. She told herself. Unless he realized that recruiting her might reveal his deep dark secret...or he had a change of heart. Jacquelyn did mention that I should be a year into my apprenticeship. Violet shook her head fiercely. You’re driving yourself insane, Vi. Get a grip. He’s your father, he didn’t kidnap you. He has his reasons for being secretive and it’s not that...it can’t be that...can it? Violet was not entirely sure what to think anymore. Everything relating to her father and VFD was dark and cryptic. She couldn’t tell if she was completely on track or so far off that it’s laughable. 

The timeline that played out in the letter was driving her insane. She didn’t know what was true or not, because she didn’t know Beatrice personally. But as she continued to read on, she was slowly starting to dismiss the ugly custody battle theory because, throughout the letter, her mother is sweet and compassionate. If an ugly custody battle had ensued than wouldn’t she be bitter, spiteful, and petty? 

Violet also realized that there were several parts of the letter that seemed to be in codes. Different kinds of codes, it looked like. But these passages were scattered all around the letter. She only thought this because there were a few passages that her mother had underlined ‘ring’ even if it was in a larger word like ‘daring’ or ‘tampering’. She remembered that at the movies, she’d hear a faint ring and her father would lift the spyglass to his face until she heard another faint ring. Could this be the same code just written down? Were there different variations of this code and many others. She rubbed her temples in frustration. How confusing was this fucking cult? Is that how they got people to stay? Confuse the fuck out of them and pique their curiosity with questions that they desperately wanted answers to? That way they’d sink so far into the rabbit hole that they couldn’t escape because their thirst for understanding would just grow throughout the years because they refused to leave without every answer since they didn’t want to admit they wasted all that time, energy and resources on nothing. Maybe there was no way to find all the answers. Maybe some questions had no answer at all. Again, to keep their members around until they figured everything out. Honestly, Violet wouldn’t put it passed them. It was starting to feel just like that. Every single time she answered a question, five new questions formed and this was the case with this letter. 

She had taken a break from reading to glance at the door to make sure her father wasn’t on his way in. No way she was going to let him catch her now. She found the jackpot.  She took the time to go retrieve her commonplace book. In case she needed to write down further questions and answers. 

When she returned to the letter she began reading a passage about her mother spending some time developing a botanical hybrid. She wasn’t entirely sure what that meant but she knew she couldn’t ask her father to define those words. He’d ask too many questions. Questions she couldn’t answer because she wasn’t a skillful liar like him. There was a strange mention of an island, that she and the new man had stayed at. Violet assumed that the way that this was all worded that it was either a part of some code or maybe her mother was being vague about her vacation to keep her location a secret from anyone who intercepted this letter.

She was happy to see that she was able to find the questions that her father had answered in his letter. But she didn’t pay much attention to those because of what her eyes had caught. Her mother was vaguely explaining what happened one night when they both made a decision that changed their lives forever. She assumed that this would be more important than knowing if she was correct with her assumptions of the questions that her mother had asked her father. 

As she read her mother’s vague explanation, her heart dropped. She didn’t know the full implications but it seemed to her that her mother was expressing guilt about a ‘mission’ that VFD had ordered her parents and two other members to do. She sees her mother explaining that ‘ she knows that Jacques had advised them both to stop coming into contact with them because it will be dangerous for both of them…’ she tried to remember who Jacques was. She believed that was the name of her uncle. But she wasn’t sure, she had unfortunately never met any of her family outside of her father. She continued to read on rolling her eyes at her mother’s vagueness when writing. She understood her mother’s possible reasoning behind this, this letter was meant for one set of eyes and those were her father’s. No one should be reading this letter, so her mother can be as cryptic and vague as she wants as long as she made sure that Lemony fully understood her. She sighed. If her mother had sent this in a more normalized way and not carrier crows than maybe she wouldn’t have been super paranoid about it getting into the wrong hands. 

As she read on, she could see that her mother expressed great guilt about her involvement in VFD’s crooked plot and how she knew that Lemony had felt equally guilty if not more since he was the one who convinced the other three that they should go along with it. Violet’s curiosity was intensified, she desperately wanted to know what VFD had her parents do. Her mother described it as heinous and morally ambiguous. She even quoted Lemony saying that he once described it as ‘a wicked deed being done for a noble cause’ and that he had even asked himself ‘what choice do we have?’ Beatrice went into detail how she believed that if they had stayed together, she believed they would’ve worked out but feared that they would be a constant reminder of this mistake they both made. Beatrice also went into detail (although in Violet’s opinion, her mother was beginning to be too vague again), that she didn’t want her father to take the blame at all. She was willing to confess to her part of the crime. 

Violet shuddered at the word ‘crime’. What did they do that was so horrible? She asked. Did they kidnap some children? She wondered, again, going back to the fact that she had recently learned that the cult that her parents had fallen victim to, kidnaps children and forces them to ‘volunteer’. Then her eyes caught on to one single word that sent Violet’s mind and heart spiraling down for different reasons. Her mother had written the word ‘ murder’ . Violet closed her eyes as she allowed this to sink in. 

Now as I’m sure you know, there are two very popular definitions for the word ‘murder’. One definition is used less often than the other for obvious reasons. But I will tell you both anyway. ‘Murder’ a phrase which here means both a group of crows and the act of killing another human being. Obviously, when Beatrice Baudelaire had written the word ‘murder’, she was not talking about a group of crows. She was talking about the act of killing another human being. So as Violet read the vaguely worded sentence that contained that specific word over and over again, her mind went into a frenzy. 

Her father had always been on the run since she was young. Although, if the letter’s timeline was the correct timeline, he was on the run a little before she was born. But either way, he had been on the run for as long as she could remember. He had always explained to her that it was because of false accusations that The Daily Punctilio had written about him. She believed this because anyone with half a brain cell could tell you that The Daily Punctilio was the most unreliable newspaper you’ll ever find. I mean, do you see who is the editor and chief? Elenora Poe, Mr. Poe’s wife. It would make sense that incompetence was attracted to incompetence. But Violet was seeing a written confession from her mother, although it was vaguely worded, it implicated that the so-called lies printed about her father in the newspaper were actually true (well not entirely, he did take all the blame for this and he did have three accomplices). Violet thought she was going to be sick. She didn’t want to believe that her parents were murderers but here it was in her mother’s shaky handwriting. She rubbed her temples and sighed angrily. She wanted to understand more about this...about this particular piece of her parents' history. 

She wanted to see if her father was correct in his assumption that they had done a ‘wicked thing for a noble reason’. She wanted to understand what exactly transpired to cause this chain of events that ended up with her mother retracting her proposal acceptance. She wanted to understand the actual timeline of events because she had two different timelines that were both equally as confusing. She wanted to understand just how far her parents were in VFD’s mindset to see how brainwashed they were. She didn’t want to see either of her parents in such a dark light. She wanted to find a logical explanation for all of this. But unfortunately for her, as she finished reading her mother’s letter, taking notes here and there. Gaining more questions than answers, as per usual. She was left with her curiosity eating away at her brain. She was left with every dark and twisty thought that she had when she was reading the letter. She felt like she was almost ready to question her father. She wanted to wait just a little longer and see what she can find.

She realized that the sun was setting and her father wasn’t home yet but she didn’t want to risk it. She wiped her tears from her eyes as she placed her the letter back into her father’s briefcase. Closing it up and making sure it was locked. She now knew the combination so being able to reaccess it would be simple. 

She decided to wait for her father to arrive home, hoping that he was safe. Even if she found out some scary secret about him and her mother today, it didn’t change how she looked at them. Well, not entirely. She still wanted to meet her birth mother and she knew the man her father was. She knew murder was wrong, but she hoped that they had a good reason. It wouldn’t change what they’d done but it’d be easier for her to simply ignore their faults and continue on the way she always had. 

As she sat quietly watching the door, she did decide one thing. If VFD had ordered her brainwashed parents to murder someone than that was an ‘organization’ she wanted absolutely nothing to do with. Who knows what they’d force her to do and what happens when you refuse? Violet didn’t want to ponder that. Although, if VFD had threatened to kill her parents, she could understand why they chose to carry out those orders. Unfortunately, she may have to ask her father about that because nowhere in her mother’s letter was that even implied or maybe it was but it was in some secret code. But either way, Violet wasn’t going to get the answer to that specific question until she was ready to confront her father and who knows by that time, she may have more revelations to ask about. All Violet knew is that her head was spinning and she was sliding down further and further into the rabbit hole...but what choice did she have?

#violet snicket au #violet snicket #violet baudelaire #klaus baudelaire #sunny baudelaire #count olaf #captain sham #aunt josephine #jacquelyn scieszka #larry your waiter #lemony snicket #daniel handler #asoue #asoue netflix #netflix asoue #asoue fandom #asoue 2004 #asoue movie #asoue au #asoue fanbase #asoue fanfic #wide window #misery loves company #beatrice baudelaire ii #beatrice baudelaire #bertrand baudelaire

[artificialqueens]

Indomitable; shattering glass doesn't fix hearts (Trixya) - Dymphna

Hi! I began posting this on AO3 awhile ago but decided to bring it here as well since… well, I don’t know, it’s the fic I like most that I’ve written myself. I’ll be the first to admit it takes quite awhile to get to the actual plot but… bear with me guys! I hope you enjoy, any feedback is appreciated :) <3 

You can find me at my blog @tropicaldepressionkatya 

-

Who the fuck wears nude shoes to a hunt in the woods? Trixie couldn’t believe her own stupidity. She’d think it was her first hunt. When she glanced down at her feet, the mud was already all over the soft shoe. The fabric soaked it all up, and Trixie wanted to just take them off, preferably throw them in a fire as well. Unfortunately, she had made a choice. And the price was a pair of perfect nude colored heels.

So there she was, crouched, a once beautiful pair of shoes on her feet, her hair in a ponytail. She was chewing on the inside of her cheek, eyes not leaving the tree. The tree where the demon was supposed to appear.

Everything had led her to that point, and she was prepared. Salt, salt bullets, iron, even. The thing about demons was that they responded differently to certain things. Salt always kept them out, but couldn’t always kill them. Iron only worked on some.

After Trixie had seen a hunter with angel blood kill a demon, she had cursed her own parents for not sleeping with angels. The runes, which apart from looking amazing, also made them better at, let’s say, everything. They had knives and swords that were given to them by the angels themselves, buzzing with light and slicing through the demons with ease. After a hit in the chest, they crawled back to where they came from.

Trixie was jealous, but she couldn’t change her blood type and decided to let it go. She had killed plenty of demons all on her own, without runes and fancy knives. She was an amazing hunter, even though working alone could get her killed faster than she’d like.

Her legs and knees were beginning to hurt, the demon hadn’t showed up yet. Beginning to get impatient, Trixie cocked her gun, checking the bullets, cleaning her knives.

“Did you hear that?” Someone hissed, a little too loud, to be sneaky. “Someone is here.”

Changing the position of her feet, Trixie stopped breathing, trying to figure out where the voice was coming from.

“It’s probably nothing. Let’s get this over with.” She exhaled again

Two women walked towards the small open spot, the tree in the middle. Big, majestic, demonic. Probably all Trixie’s favorite things, it just missed some pink.

The smaller one, wild curls bouncing as she glanced around, reached for a bottle, which she sprinkled over the tree. Trixie caught a glimpse of a tattoo. She had no idea what they were doing. The other woman, a little taller, wearing a tight dress and black pumps, almost tripped a couple of times, before she lighted a match.

Trixie liked to think she was pretty smart, but she didn’t realize that the girls were going to light the demon tree – her demon tree –on fire until the match was thrown towards the tree.

“What the fuck?!” Trixie jumped up, her voice a low growl. “Do you have any idea what the fuck you’ve just done?!” She yelled, grabbing her gun and cocking it again.

“Oh my-“

The smallest girl also pulled out a gun, black and modern, yet not a revolver. Trixie knew her bullets wouldn’t kill a human, but the long shaft looked intimidating.

The taller blonde, apparently a lot slower than her friend, pulled a machete from her back. The fire reflected on the metal. It seemed so close, too close. Trixie might have been angry, but her job was protecting the mundane, so she lunged forwards, yanking the smallest girl closer to her. “Watch out! Your fucking fire is gonna bite your asses.”

Stunned, they looked back. Just shortly, but Trixie had lowered her gun. “I hope you know that this town is seriously fucked now, it’s y’all’s fault.”

“We actually saved the town!” The blonde called, machete loosely dangling in her hand. “You don’t know what we’re talking about.”

“Whatever,” Trixie put away her gun. “I’ll drop a flower on your grave.” She turned her back to the girls, jogging away. The girls wouldn’t hurt her. Not when she saved them from getting severe burns. Trixie thought it was weird they carried weapons, but consumed by anger and annoyance, she didn’t think to give it, or them, any attention.

“Is she wearing nude shoes? Out of fabric? Is she stupid?”

-

Throwing the shoes back into the sink, Trixie rubbed her eyes, sighing. As expected, those shoes were ruined. Now all she had was a pair of pink and white cowboy boots and a selection of ugly black and blue pumps. After she’d saved the town from the demons that were going to flood the town, she’d go shopping. Her formal wear was beginning to thin, all her nice clothes destroyed during working hours. So there she was, in black jeans and an orange sweater. She hated that sweater. It tickled her all the time, and by the end of the day, her skin would be red and itchy.

The sun was beginning to rise, and Trixie realized she had lost another night of sleep to working and not being able to sleep. The coffee maker was way too loud, deafening almost, in the quiet motel. She didn’t like coffee, but the lack of tropical redbull forced her to do things she didn’t like.

Slipping into her white boots, Trixie took her shoes, strutting through the hallway. The lights were on, but there was no sound, no living soul in sight.

The dumpster next to the motel doors were something that had put Trixie off at first, but it was the closest to the woods and the city. After all, it was convenient. From where she was standing, she could see a crushed wall and an obvious hole in the roof. She hoped no one was dumb enough to use those rooms.

She dropped the shoes in the dumpster, sighing once again before she turned around.

“What is a pretty lady like you doing up so early?” Trixie had almost bumped into a tall man. He had a lot of muscles, and light hair. Generally speaking, he was attractive.

“Not just appearing and scarring other pretty ladies.” Trixie didn’t mean to snap, but his gaze held something offputting and empty. She tried to brush past him, but he spoke again.

“Come on, we’re already here, let’s make the most of it.” His voice was deep, but missed the warmth Trixie liked.

“I have an appointment in two hours.”

“Oh, with a boyfriend?” He teased, and Trixie turned fully back to the man. Her face was blank, something she always had been able to do. Resting bitchface, people said. Others said she was just a bitch.

“No, with the police. I’m helping them.” Trixie was bluffing, but she had a certain confidence, one that people simply couldn’t ignore.

“Oh,” His voice dropped in volume. “What are you investigating, hm?”

“Classified,” Trixie smiled, waving. “I’m going to get ready now.” The man didn’t say anything else.

Closing and locking the door behind her, the coffee maker was done, and she poured herself a cup. The key to delicious coffee was lots of sugar and milk. A lot of it.

Walking over to her suitcase, Trixie frowned. FBI clothing. Her last formal skirt was covered in blood stains, after she had raided a vampire nest a few weeks ago. She really needed to go shopping.

Since she didn’t have much choice, she picked a dark pant suit. One of the few positive things about it was that she had a pocket for her lipstick.

Moving to the small bathroom with her mug in her hand, clothes over her arm, and shampoo bottle in her other hand, she bumped the door open with her hip.

She’d been in the motel for a few days, so she knew the water took ages to heat up. So Trixie turned on the shower, carefully hanging the clothes over the sink as she sipped the last of her coffee. The motel towels were crappy, they always were, but bringing her own was just something she couldn’t afford. She was usually on the road, anyway. The apartment she owned in California was just collecting dust. She hadn’t been there in four months.

But having a place where she could stack all of her stuff, her books, her bills, and pictures was nice. She planned on going back for some time after her current job.

She stepped into the shower, the water turning dark with dirt almost immediately. Her feet and legs had been gross, covered in dirt. She’s washed most off when she got back, but dirt was annoying like that.

Her flowery and over-expensive shampoo covered the smells of her adventure and the lack of sleep, even though her makeup was going to finish that job.

Whatever she had to do, she would. She was going to fix the mistakes of the girls in the woods. She didn’t have a choice, really. She wouldn’t run away, even though it’d probably be safer.

-

“Miss Johnson?” Trixie turned at the sound of her fake name. When she was an FBI agent, she was Jessica Johnson, a widow. “Your coworkers have arrived.”

“I-“ Trixie bit her tongue, offering the officer a polite smile. “They’re here sooner than expected. Delayed flight,” She explained. “Could I talk to them for a minute?”

“Of course, they’re with officer White.” He said. “I’ll take you, Johnson.”

“Please, call me Jessica.” Trixie followed the man, wondering if they were real agents. Her fake ID was convincing, but with the shoes she picked, she’d never be fast enough to outrun an agent.

“Well, here they are. If it’s fishy…” He trailed off, clearing his throat. “Call me when you’re done, okay?”

Trixie closed the door behind her. The doors in the whole building were rather heavy. Trixie wondered why that was. But when she spotted the two agents, it was a good thing the doors were heavy.

She pulled her gun, pointing it at the woman with wild curls. The blonde pulled her gun a little later.

“What are you doing here?” Trixie snapped. “You set a very special tree on fire, no way they would let two idiots be FBI agents.” Trixie slowly cocked the gun, her eyes following every movement of the girls.

“We are,” The blonde spat back. “I’m going to reach in my pocket, grab my ID.”

Trixie nodded, balancing her focus over the blonde and the girl with dark hair. The blonde fished out an ID, it looked real enough. Then again, so did hers. “Isabel?”

“The one and only,” Isabel lowered her gun. “That’s Rose.”

“Sounds like the fakest names ever,” Trixie scoffed, rolling her eyes. “I’m the FBI agent. Y’all are imposters.”

Rose scoffed at the same tone as Trixie. “Well, girl, what was a real FBI agent doing in the freaking woods at night? Alone?”

“Important stuff, but that’s-“ The door was flung open, startling Trixie, who turned to the person. It was the man from that morning. “What the-“

Even though the man only hit her with one hand, his power was enormous. As she was being thrown against the floor, she realized that it was a demon. Her vision got blurry, the air was slammed out of her lungs. She needed to get up. She needed to protect the girls.

She forced herself up, slightly dizzy, but she had fought in worse shape. The blonde girl, who Trixie had written off as not so bright and slow, had a blade in her hand. Trixie would recognize blades like that everywhere. Freaking angel bloods. Of course they were, no one else would be as stupid to burn a demon portal tree. The other girl, Rose, reached for a weapon, but the man – demon – hit her with his fist, full against her head.

“Shangela!” The blonde called out through gritted teeth. Trixie’s head was too messed up to connect the dots. She didn’t care, anyway. It didn’t matter who these girls were, as long as they would be alive when Trixie left the building, trying to come up with a great lie.

She cocked her gun, the metal cold against her warm fingertips. She could feel blood drip down her neck. The blonde girl lunged away from the demon, hissing when he clawed at her skin.

Narrowing her eyes, Trixie had trouble keeping the gun straight, seeing straight. She shot. She was pointing at the demon’s head, but missed. It hit him in the shoulder, an unnatural sound leaving his mouth. Even if he was just distracted for a moment, the blonde lady, Isabel, jumped back forwards, slamming her fancy knife into the demon’s chest. With much more strength that Trixie thought was possible for a skinny thing like Isabel, she repeated the action multiple times, until the man opened his mouth, the demon circling out before vanishing with an agonizing scream.

Isabel was panting, dropping the dead body and rushing to Rose, or Shangela’s, side. “Hey,” She whispered, so softly that if Trixie had been standing two steps back, she wouldn’t have heard it. She wouldn’t have heard the desperation, fear and slight crack in her voice. “Shangela, Shangie, are you there?”

Trixie wondered how no one had noticed a gunshot or the obvious sounds of a fight. She just assumed the walls were soundproof. She hurried to the door, seeing a few officers frown at her. She smiled politely, closing the door again. Getting that body out would be a problem.

“Is she alright?”

“Fuck no,” The blonde snapped. Trixie was almost sure her name wasn’t Isabel. “Damn it, why did I leave my Steele in the hotel?” She ran a hand through her hair, biting her lip before getting up in frustration. She kicked one of the chairs before a few creative and impressive cuss words left her mouth.

“That isn’t gonna solve anything,” Trixie bit at the woman. She moved closer, her first-aid classes coming back. She had plenty of experience with wounds. Her head had stopped spinning, and the blood hadn’t dropped onto the floor, so she knew she was good. Better than the girl – Shangela, she assumed – on the floor.

After a quick glance, she knew the woman needed a hospital, or a real doctor, at least. She remained calm, speaking slowly to not alert the other girl. “She probably has a concussion. I can’t tell if she’ll wake up all by herself. I think she needs a doctor.”

“Okay, okay,” The girl breathed out, returning by her friend’s side. “Hear that Shangela? We’re gonna call Pep for you.”

“Who the hell-”

“Did I fucking ask you anything?” The blonde snapped probably harder than she intended to. She released another shaky breath. “I’m sorry, I’m really frustrated. I can’t carry her all by myself. Could you please help me?”

“My Jeep is outside,” Trixie said, looking at the still unconscious body. “But the body. We can’t become wanted after y’all burned a demon portal.”

Isabel closed her eyes, grinding her teeth. “Fine. I’ll take care of the body. Can you cause some distraction?”

“Isabel,” Trixie smiled. “Distraction is my second name.”

-

From the corner of her eye, Trixie could see the younger woman drag the body behind her, doing surprisingly well for her slim and breakable form. The officers were gathered around her as she clutched her forehead. The wound wasn’t deep, but stretched long enough over her face to worry some. Her agonizing groans were rather convincing, and men were always looking for a damsel in distress.

“I- it was a man! How did you not see him?! He rushed over there!” Tears were streaming over her face, and Trixie was amazed at how amazing she was doing. “Please, he said he was going to kill me!”

Several officers shuffled away, to the direction Trixie pointed at. Two stayed by her side. “Miss, it’s going to be okay. Come with us, we’ll make some phone calls-”

“No, no,” Trixie wiped her tears away. “I- I should go home.” Trixie wiped at the last tears. “I’m okay, I’ll be okay. I just… need to get out of here.”

“I understand, miss,” One officer said softly, a soothing tone to his voice. “Should I go and grab your purse?” He already was moving towards the door when Trixie saw Isabel hurrying back inside.

“No!” Trixie cleared her throat, hoping her voice would break just a little. “It’s fine, I can do that myself. Can you please help him get behind bars?” The innocent flutter of eyelashes broke something in the man, his eyes softening. It wasn’t the best thing for an officer.

“Thank you,” Trixie sniffed, wiping under her eyes again, offering the man a smile. She got up from her crouched position, taking the offered hand before she slowly skipped back to the room. Isabel was already inside, A bright grin on her face. “Good enough?”

“Yeah,” She said, a hand pressed against Shangela’s arm. “Help me with her, okay?” Trixie didn’t even have time to brag about her theatrical skills and charm.

Trixie put the lady’s arm around her neck, gently lifting her to her feet. The other girl did the same. “So, I’m guessing you’re not Isabel?” As she groaned softly under her weight.

“Aquaria,” She muttered back, walking as fast as she could. Even though no one was walking in the main office, they didn’t know how fast they’d be back. The black Jeep was shining around the corner, and Aquaria let Trixie alone to deal with the unconscious girl as she opened the door. The two of them gently laid the girl on the back seat. She’d been out for a good ten minutes, and Trixie was beginning to worry.

Hopping in her car, the blonde was already sitting in the passenger seat, typing furiously on her phone. “Who’re you calling? We’re bringing her to the hospital.”

“No!” Aquaria snapped once again. She really seemed on edge, and Trixie couldn’t blame her. “How do you think they’ll look when they see her with all those wounds? With weirdly shaped scars? Too many questions. Besides, Peppermint can get her back on her feet in just a few hours.”

Aquaria pressed call, and was getting frustrated pretty fast. Trixie watched the girl on the backseat with caution and worry. She hoped this Peppermint person was as talented as Aquaria claimed her to be. If she wasn’t, Shangela would be dead by morning, she guessed. But Trixie felt like she couldn’t argue. Shangela had angel blood, after all.

“Okay,” Aquaria breathed out. “Here left. Pep will be there in half an hour.”

“That’s fast, where’s she from?”

“She’s in France, right now,” Aquaria glanced at Shangela, her curls decorating the last seat. “She needs to set up a portal, but she loves us. We’d do anything for her, and so would she.”

Trixie decided to say nothing. So Peppermint was going to travel by portal. Right. Sure. Whatever.

Trixie followed Aquaria’s direction, parked in front of a rather fancy looking hotel, at least in comparison to her motel, and helped carry the brunette to their room. Room 015, first floor, luckily. The hallways were thankfully empty.

“Let’s bring her to the bed,” Aquaria opened the door with a key, and Trixie was stunned. How in the world could they afford that place? The kitchen was small and neat and the dinner table had 4 spots. The table was decorated with a white tablecloth and yellow flowers. There even was a rather large lounge. “Over here.”

Trixie followed Aquaria’s lead, Shangela’s eyes sometimes opening a bit. At that point, Trixie wasn’t sure if she was affected by the hit on her head or if the demon blood had been too much for her. The burns in her legs and arms had been big.

Gently, they placed the woman on the bed, which was big and looked incredibly soft.

Aquaria brushed Shangela’s hair out of her face with a fond look on her face. “You’ll be okay, Peppermint is on her way.”

Trixie felt like she didn’t belong in that moment, too intimate and familiar. “Wanna help with the hot chocolate?”

“Hot chocolate?”

“Pep likes hot chocolate. We’re kinda friends, I guess. We don’t need to pay her anymore, so I make sure we always gets some chocolate when she comes to the rescue.”

“Oh,” Trixie whispered, nodding her head and following Aquaria back to the kitchen. Now that there wasn’t an unconscious girl hanging between them, Trixie noticed that it wasn’t white and gold, but a soft pink cream color and bronze. The couch was one of the few shades of brown that Trixie thought didn’t look like shit, and the painting above a dresser had blue and pink tones that matched the walls and the kitchen cabinets. “I didn’t know hunting paid this well.”

She let her fingers glide over the dresser, which was spotless. Cleaned that morning, probably.

“Oh, it really doesn’t,” Aquaria smiled, opening the cabinet to grab a pan before moving to the fridge, which undoubtedly was too large for a hotel room. Aquaria’s mood had shifted, she didn’t seem too worried anymore. “You get creative, though. Lots of people die, you know. The unsaveable. We just…”

“Take their money,” Trixie finished. She hadn’t done that often, found it a rather disrespectful thing to do, and got what she wanted by lying, shoplifting, and going on dates to fancy restaurants. “I thought y’all angels were nice people.”

“Being nice doesn’t bring bread to the table,” Aquaria added some sugar to her mixture. “Can you close the curtains? Peppermint will be here soon.”

Since Aquaria didn’t say why, Trixie didn’t think it was her place to ask. She just did what was asked, muttering her questions under her breath, growing annoyed with the whole situation. In all honesty, she should probably go to her motel, try to solve the case, and forget about Aquaria and Shangela. But her curiosity was sparked, and if there was one thing Trixie knew about herself, it was that all questions should be answered.

So Trixie let Aquaria babble on and on and on. Humming or chuckling where needed. She talked a lot, stumbling over her own words from time to time, earning a genuine giggle from Trixie. It only took Peppermint about ten minutes, before she literally walked through the wall.

“What the fuck?” Trixie chocked out when she saw the light wall darken, the core so black, it looked as if nothing had ever been there. “Aquaria, What the fuck is happening?”

Aquaria glanced over the edge of her phone, an eyebrow raised. “Oh,” Aquaria dropped her gaze to her phone again, shutting it off a few seconds later. “The portal.”

Aquaria moved closer to the wall, a bright smile of excitement on her face. It was as if she had forgotten about Shangela. Or that she didn’t really care. Trixie shrugged those thoughts off, because it could just be her coping mechanism, and because it definitely wasn’t her job to judge whatever was going on between them.

A woman with black braids and pink lips stepped through the ‘portal’, smiling brightly as she spotted Aquaria. “Hello, dear,” Her voice was soft and gentle, and Trixie could imagine her hug being comforting and motherly. “What happened? Where is she?”

Aquaria led the woman to the room, and Trixie felt left out and unsure what she should do. It was a familiar feeling, even though she rarely paid attention to it. She preferred to work and travel alone, not wanting to take care of anyone, or being a burden for someone else. However, it did get lonely.

But Kim had warned her for that, yet young and dumb Trixie had been fueled by anger and fear, and she never thought about what it had meant, getting into the business. Now that she was almost ten years older, Trixie knew, and had to live with the consequences every day, sleep with it every night.

She hadn’t worked together since Kim, and even though she wouldn’t call saving Shangela’s live working together, she didn’t mind listening to Aquaria’s rambling, or the change of scenery. Sometimes, Trixie wondered if she made the wrong decision by working on her own.

“You okay?” Aquaria had her hair pulled in a high ponytail, the grey-ish tone in her hair more prominent now that she was opening the curtains again. The sun was shining, and even though Trixie doubted it would warm her skin up, it was pleasant to know she wouldn’t need a raincoat.

“Yeah,” Trixie gently shook her head, coming back from wherever her mind had wandered. It was a place she didn’t like to visit. “Is she going to be okay?” Trixie pointed at the door. The door was closed, and she swore she could hear a faint whisper.

“Pep is fixing her,” Aquaria’s hands were balled into fists. “She’s been through worse, Shangela,” The blonde let herself fall on the couch, closing her eyes and pinching the bridge of her nose. Trixie could see the hint of dirt under her nails. Maybe it was blood.

“What about you?” Trixie couldn’t believe she forgot to ask that. Her social skills were rusting, that was obvious. The occasional hook up didn’t require much talking. Most of the time she was lying, anyway. She couldn’t be Trixie Mattel, often she had to be Jessica, or Isabella, or Alice. It was easy to forget who she was, even though fighting always brought her back.

“I’m fine,”

“No demon blood?” Trixie had a hard time believing that. Aquaria had been dressed in a skirt and the thinnest white blouse she’d ever seen. “Want me to take a look?”

“No, when Shangela wakes up, she’ll do it, it’s fine.”

“You sure?” Trixie carefully stopped herself from correcting Aquaria. If Shangela wakes up.

“Yeah, runes will heal it in no time.”

Right. Aquaria had angel blood. Trixie tensed up. “I can look at yours, if you want. I make killer healing runes, just so you know.”

“No,” Trixie sounded harsher than she meant to. “I mean I’m fine. I should just … go.”

“What?” Aquaria sounded surprised, pushing herself up and shaking her head. “Hell no, you’re staying. Wouldn’t it be better if we solved this case together?”

Trixie scoffed. “It’s obvious y’all need it, because you set a portal on fire.”

“Geez, let it go,” Aquaria chuckled. “We’ll work on that, it’ll be good in no time.”

“Let it go,” Trixie scoffed, pushing the tip of her shoe into the carpet, which looked too soft and expensive for an hotel. “I could be on my way home, but no, I might have to stay for weeks if it’s as bad as I think it is.”

Aquaria raised an eyebrow. “Weeks for closing a broken portal? Girl, how aren’t you dead yet?”

“What?” It came out harsher than she meant, but Aquaria seemed unbothered.

“I already texted someone from back home, she’ll bring some stuff and we’ll be done here in like, two days.” Aquaria looked at her nails, sighing in annoyance when she noticed that the baby blue polish had chipped a little bit. “I have to fix this.” As much as she tried to hide it, Trixie guessed she wasn’t fine, too restless to be okay.

The girl walked away, but Trixie wasn’t done. She often spent weeks trying to find a solution, and this freaking teen just let someone bring the answer to all their problems to them? Well, the solution to some problems.

“What do you mean? What is she bringing?”

Aquaria, who had an air of slight arrogance around her, looked at Trixie as if she was the one who figured out how to use the potty two days ago. “Some sort of dirt made from iron and salt. A few sticks with runes. I don’t know, we’ve used it for ages.” Aquaria spoke while painting her nails a cute orange, soft yet outstanding. “Where are you from?”

Dumbfounded by the simple question after Trixie had come to know something major, she just stood there for a long moment, trying to grasp the meaning of the words, before they hit her in the chest. “I live in Cali. Well, my house is there. I travel a lot.”

“I can tell,” Aquaria didn’t clarify what she meant, and when Trixie was about to ask, about to be offended, the girl began talking. “We’re from Boston. We go home often enough, Raven has a large place. Sometimes we do smaller cases in little groups, the big ones all together. We’re with a lot, you know.”

Trixie, for one, couldn’t imagine working with a large group. That only meant more people to look after, more people to protect. She couldn’t even protect one extra, how the hell was she about to take care of a group? However, Aquaria didn’t seem to have that problem.

“Sounds like fun,” Trixie rolled from the heel of her foot back to her toes. “Does this Peppermint person always take so long?”

“She won’t be ready before dawn,” Aquaria closed the bottle, blowing her nails with elegance and a certain laziness that was fascinating. “You can leave, if you want. It was really nice to bring her here.”

“I-“ What was she supposed to say? “It’s fine, I hope she’s okay,” Trixie glanced back to the closed door. “Can I come over tomorrow? Just to check if she’s okay.”

“Of course!” Aquaria stopped blowing her nails to smile. “Maybe you could help with cleaning up some more demons. You seem like a good hunter.”

It did feel indispensable to leave Aquaria, a foolish girl who painted her nails before fighting demons, possibly alone to kill maybe a dozen of demons. “Sure, why not?” Trixie scratches her nose, careful not to smudge her makeup, a strange tingle in her chest. “I’ll come over at noon?”

Aquaria nodded, giving her an awkward wave while not stopping her blowing. When Trixie left, she knew for a fact that Aquaria wasn’t looking at her.

-

Her fingers were shaking when she tried to open her room, the faint smell of something disgusting not bothering her for the first time since she checked in. She couldn’t stop the tremble, her heart was throbbing in her throat, and tears were threatening to well up any moment. It was weird, Trixie didn’t know where it all came from.

And yet she did.

Careless banter with someone who understood what she did. Someone who knew more than her and wanted to work together. She hadn’t worked together in three years.

When the lock finally clicked open, Trixie pushed herself in, hoping to find relief in the motel room, an empty room, a silent room. Nothing changed.

So, deciding that facing her feelings would be too hard, she kicked her shoes out with more force than intended, and moved to the little kitchen. The glasses had been dirty when she arrived, and she had only cared to clean one. Filling it with water, she took a small sip. Even though it did cool her down, she still felt like crying, like fainting.

I love you.

The words were loud and clear in her mind, she could even imagine that stupid crooked smile.

She threw her glass against the wall with a yell. She reached for the used plate in the sink, which soon followed the glass. Some of the glass hit the wall, jolting back at Trixie. She didn’t know if something hit her. Not then. She didn’t care.

See you at dinner, loser.

She leaned with her palms on the itchy tablecloth, her breathing uneven when a large tear rolled over her cheek. She never saw her at dinner.

#rpdr fanfiction #trixie mattel #aquaria #peppermint #tw blood #tw fighting #indomitable #dymphna #submission #shangela laquifa wadley #trixya #lesbian au