The Calamitous Collection

WARNING: asoue season 3 spoilers

a/n: bertrand-centric, hidden backstory for the opera scene

summary:  Where Bertrand Baudelaire and Jacques Snicket were really at during the night at the opera.

pairing: Bertrand Baudelaire / Jacques Snicket

word count: 665

alt: ao3

“J,” Bertrand said warningly. “You have to stop distracting me. I’m focusing on the controller for the dragonfly wings here.”

“And you’re welcome to continue to focus on that,” Jacques hummed, tracing his finger across the back of Bertrand’s lower neck. Bertrand could feel Jacques writing some kind of message with his finger, but he couldn’t make out what was the message. “While I focus on … other things. Prettier than those wings.”

“Please, I’m serious.” Bertrand sighed.  He squinted at Beatrice, who was on the stage, and pressed a button on his controller.  She flew upwards, and the crowds applauded and cheered.  The crowds loved Beatrice, he thought.

“Relax a little,” Jacques massaged Bertrand’s back slowly. “The mission hasn’t even begun yet. Not until after the intermission.”

“No, the mission has already begun.  It’s not called intermission to be placed before a mission, J.” Bertrand said. He was still looking entirely serious and very professionally focused on the stage like he ought to, but Jacques could detect a hint of a smile quirking up those lips that looked almost bitable in Jacques’ eyes.

Kit has been a regular visitor to the Hotel Denouement all her life without incident.

The first time she visits the library under the fountain, she checks out an important part of the collection. Dewey doesn’t seem to mind that she never really returns it to him.

Synopsis:  Mr. Poe got it all wrong.

The note had only a time, 20:00, and a place, the small bar in a part of the city that had a reputation almost as dirty as the one of the woman who received it. Or the one of the woman who sent it, if the world only knew the sort of things she did.

Ellington arrived at the bar exactly at 19:30, and found a place to sit where she could have a better view of the place than the rest of the people present could have of her. She watched the people talking and laughing, without paying any attention to their words. A group of young men in formal suits was probably enjoying their time after some boring office work. Two tables from her, a lady dressed in provocative clothes seemed to be flirting with a man who had drunk more than it was appropriate for the hour, if the empty bottles were any sign of it. Near the back, a couple of teenagers passed something to each other and tried to hold back their laughter.

Their lives were so simple. They had no idea how fortunate they all were.

The time for the meeting came, but Ellington didn’t see a woman a few years older than herself entering the bar. She waited, trying not to get nervous, not to think of everything that could have gone wrong. But each second that passed made her more anxious. Kit was usually not late. This didn’t look good.

Finally, a person approached Ellington’s table. They were shorter than her, their hair was tied in a bun, their eyes were seaweed green, and they had a weird looking black mustache over their lips. She frowned as the person took a seat in front of her.

“Sorry, I am late.”

Ellington made a gesture pointing to the area between her nose and her lips. The person tilted their head in confusion, before realizing what she meant and removing the fake mustache.

“Work?”

“Yeah.” Kit said. “Sorry for that.”

Ellington smiled. She didn’t mind it. Kit was there. Things were alright.

“How are you?” Kit asked.

“Like always,” Ellington replied. “How are you?”

“I love this song!” Kit said, instead of answering. She stood up and reached out her hand to Ellington. “Dance with me?”

Ellington looked around, a refusal already waiting in her lips, but then she locked eyes with Kit. The place was not too crowded. When would she have a chance like this again?

She took Kit’s hand and followed her to the dancing area. For all her enthusiasm, Kit was actually an awful dancer. She tripped on Ellington’s foot more than a couple times.

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: A Series of Unfortunate Events - Lemony Snicket, A Series of Unfortunate Events (TV) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: Major Character Death Relationships: Dewey Denouement & Ernest Denouement & Frank Denouement, Dewey Denouement/Kit Snicket, Ernest Denouement/Larry Your-Waiter Characters: Frank Denouement, Ernest Denouement, Dewey Denouement, Beatrice Snicket Additional Tags: most of vfd are mentioned or appear briefly but i’m not tagging bc it’s like one mention, Brainwashing, Kidnapping, Depression, Anxiety, Brief references to suicide/self harm, Canonical Character Death, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, Because VFD is a messed up cult and I need people to know Summary:

They’re four years old when they’re taken.

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: A Series of Unfortunate Events - Lemony Snicket, A Series of Unfortunate Events (TV) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: Major Character Death Relationships: Dewey Denouement & Ernest Denouement & Frank Denouement, Dewey Denouement/Kit Snicket, Ernest Denouement/Larry Your-Waiter Characters: Frank Denouement, Ernest Denouement, Dewey Denouement, Beatrice Snicket Additional Tags: most of vfd are mentioned or appear briefly but i’m not tagging bc it’s like one mention, Brainwashing, Kidnapping, Depression, Anxiety, Brief references to suicide/self harm, Canonical Character Death, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, Because VFD is a messed up cult and I need people to know Summary:

They’re four years old when they’re taken.

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: A Series of Unfortunate Events (TV) Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Characters: Kit Snicket, Arthur Poe, The Taxi Additional Tags: this is netflix!kit, Missing Scene Summary:

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: A Series of Unfortunate Events - Lemony Snicket,  A Series of Unfortunate Events (TV)  Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Category: Gen Relationships: Beatrice Snicket & Lemony Snicket Characters: Beatrice Snicket, Lemony Snicket, Kit Snicket (mentioned), Jacques Snicket (mentioned) Additional Tags: Friendship, Family Feels, Bea is the cutest little girl, Lemony is just a lot of gloomy feelings but he has a heart after all, Root beer floats™ Summary:

As SunnyBaudelaire looked tentatively over the precipice, a word which here means “edgeof the extremely steep cliff that was the only thing keeping the youngestBaudelaire from her siblings and from a very injurious fall,” she heard afrustrated voice behind her exclaim “OUCH! Stupid fish!”

Turning, Sunnysaw the hook-handed man struggling with a partly frozen salmon he had just caughtfrom the Stricken Stream. He had clearly been trying to debone the fishcarefully, but he was encumbered by his hooks, and so he had torn at the fishclumsily, accidentally cutting himself with his own hook in the process.

He threw the fishdown in frustration and nursed his wound. Glancing up, he made eye contact withSunny.

“What are youlooking at, baby?”

“Batali,” said Sunny,which meant something along the lines of, “I’m looking at a cook that has mademany avoidable mistakes.”

“Well if youthink you’re so smart, you prepare it then.”

Sunny walked overto the fish, and after sanitizing her mouth with some clean snow, went to workcutting the fish precisely with her extremely sharp teeth. Her cuts were soprecise that she was able to debone the fish easily.

“You’re muchbetter at that than I am, baby,” said the hook-handed man, after a period ofsilence. “Back when I used to associate with more noble people…when I had myhands…I used to love to cook.”

“Iago!” Sunnysaid, which meant something like “But you’re a villain who betrays the peoplewho love you! The only thing you’re good at cooking is schemes!”

“No!” said thehook-handed man, “I’m not a villain, I’m just….a complicated person! I’ve lostmany people that I love, and loved many people that I’ve lost, and that hasmade the world a scary place. I’m just like you. Can’t you understand that,baby?” and when he said, “baby,” it wasn’t in the threatening voice Sunny wasused to hearing from Olaf’s troupe. It sounded like the same tone Justice Strausshad used when she begged the Baudelaire siblings to stay with her. It soundedlike the tone that Klaus had used when defending the Incredibly Deadly Viper againstaccusations of homicide. It sounded like the tone that Jerome had used when hepleaded with Esme to let him continue drinking aqueous martinis, even when theywere “out.” It sounded like the tone of her mother’s voice when she asked Sunnyto never grow up.

“Pan,” said Sunny.

“I know I know, Ihave metal utensils for hands and I chase young children as part of my job. Iassociate with a group of other sinister people, and I run around on metaphoricalislands trying to escape the ticking clock that has chased me since the day Iburned down the place which I had called home. I assuage my guilt with seasshanties and occasional bowls of salmon soup. But you must believe me, baby.I’m not a villain.”

“Pan,” said Sunnyagain, and gestured to the metal pan that lay in the snow next to him.

“Oh,” said thehook-handed man, and picked up the pan and put it over the fire. Sunny placedthe cleanly-cut salmon fillets on the pan.

“Lemon?” sheasked, and the hook-handed man produced a few old pockets of soy sauce andhoney from his pocket.

“These are all Ihave.”

“Fleming,” saidSunny, which means something along the lines of “That’s a happy accident,because soy sauce and honey will make a perfect caramelizing marinade to pairwith the smokey flavor of the Stricken Stream salmon.”

“You’re prettysmart, for a baby,” the hook-handed man said sheepishly, handing her thepackets.

“Hookie,” shesaid, and bit the hook-handed man’s wrist affectionately.

“Fernald,” hesaid. “My name is Fernald.”

“Fernald.” Sunny said,and then, after a pause, pointed to herself. “Sunny.”

Fernald lookeddown at the searing salmon fillets – which had begun to caramelize nicely – asthe steam from the pan drifted lazily through the cold air, just like the smokedrifted above the cold sea all those years ago, and felt, for the first timesince that day, like he was no longer looking over the edge of a precipice.“Thank you for your help, Sunny.”******

Thanks @virtualfindingsdocumented for sending me this prompt! I had tons of fun writing this…got teared up a bit at the end there.

Synopsis:  12 years-old Bertrand spent two weeks in Stain’d-by-the-sea.

Alternate link

pairing: Bertrand Baudelaire / Dewey Denouement

summary: Dewey pines over Bertrand. Beatrice and Ernest ride horses.

word count: ~2.2k

alt: ao3

Kit was speeding through the traffic, breaking several traffic rules under one minute, but Dewey’s mind was barely there. As they drove through a tunnel, he remembered that night all those years ago, in the dead of the night, the first time his friend without a license drove him all the way to another city just to visit a library that was rumored to only open from 10pm to before dawn.  (Though, on another note, Dewey realized he couldn’t be actually 100% sure that Kit had a license now.)

Dewey remembered Bertrand had been driving far more carefully at that time than Kit was doing now, with the explanation of not wanting to draw attention and get stopped by a cop, but Dewey had been quite excited and a little scared anyway.  The thrill of the late night adventure and sneaking out had been fun and an everlasting memory that made him nostalgic until today.

They were fourteen, and Bertrand somehow managed to convince his chaperone to let him borrow the green roadster for the night. 

“…. Snicket so what if she likes to play with fire? It’s in her blood after all. You need to accept it.” Klaus said calmly.

“Beatrice is and always will be part of the Denouement and Snicket lines…” Bea sighed at that remark from her uncle.

She didn’t realize she was staring in the mirror until that second. She chortled under her breath, why couldn’t her uncle understand no accept what she had known all along. Sure the Baudelaires kept things from her, but she was smart and figured this out on her own pretty quickly after meeting her “uncle” Frank or was it Ernest she was five when it happened.

To her she undoubtedly knew the truth, her eyebrows almost touched. Her nose barely resembled her mother’s from the pictures she had seen. Even when she was five she knew her nose looked nothing like any of the Denouement triplets. Her face shape was round but sharp in the cheekbones and chin, which didn’t match the Denouement’s in any way shape or form. Her mother much more rounded cheeks. In fact the only thing she got completely from her mother was her hair, which was the same texture and hue. Even her eyes didn’t quiet match who for years she was told her parents were. She also had dyslexia which didn’t come from her mother in the least.

She looked over her face for the millionth time since she had realized who her father was. She knew that the Baudelaires saw it, they saw it and trusted her anyway to play with fire and join VFD if or when she was ready. Her uncle saw it and was scared that somehow she would be taken away from him like everyone else who was decent in his life. She knew that all of them were afraid she would turn out like him, because of how similar she was to him. Bea reminded herself for the milionth time in her life “it’s the situation who makes a person, not the person themselves.” Frankly she was scared too, more than the rest of them, she didn’t want to live up to her fathers legacy, even with her mother being the woman she was, Bea was terridied.

Bea took a deep breath, the arguing had subsided and she was ready to end the argument once and for all. She walked into the kitchen to witness the Baudelaires each reading a book and her uncle typing a way on his “versatile fact dramitizer” which was really a typewriter. She stood in front of the table and cleared her throat.

Kill your darlings, kill your darlings, even if it breaks your little heart

Rating: Explicit

Characters: Esme Squalor/Beatrice Baudelaire

Bertrand almost wanted to say, “And years later, you tried to follow my example and failed miserably?”

He didn’t.

He couldn’t.

Beatrice apparently both knew how to read his mind and had no such qualms, because two seconds later, she was saying the exact thing to Olaf, who immediately looked even madder than moments ago.

Beatrice looked at him, and shrugged. “Well, you obviously weren’t going to say it, so what choice do I have?”

“Skip the insults and focus on important discussions?” Bertrand suggested drily.

“What kind of boring suggestion is that?” Olaf grumbled, while Beatrice said at the same time, “Yeah, but that would be so much more boring, darling.”

Beatrice and Olaf glared at each other, and Bertrand was having a headache and also multiple flashbacks mixing together when the pair of them used to do these kind of things and he would eventually sneak out to the other room and drink tea with Kit, complaining about them both.  Kit would also list what annoying things they did that week but there would be a certain fondness in her voice.  Bertrand remembered never being sure who her fondness had been directed at.

He still wasn’t sure now, but that didn’t matter.  There were more important things at hand. Negotiations and baiting fake promises and important evidence gathering, all needed to be done before the children got home.  He should be focus on those things, not thinking about the past and how different things were before they all changed, or having second doubts if they would really be able be allowed to finally leave for good after “one last mission”.

Something felt off, he thought uneasily. Was he just being paranoid? Why did it take so little convincing and luring for Olaf to visit?  Why would an organization like VFD truly agree to let people who knew too many secrets leave? How was a mission instructed by higher ups, who were rumored to having been infiltrated by the other side already, truly going to work out?

How would they truly deserve a peaceful life away from all of this after what they’d done?