sometimes kit remembers the opera night in black and white. a bit surreal, feeling like a dream. she thinks black and white, but it’s really more like different shades of gray. in terms of visually - but also morally, too.
right and wrong could be so complicated sometimes, although kit ultimately believes what they did that night as necessary. was it right? she didn’t know, still doesn’t. but it was necessary, just like so many things vfd do.
in the seas of gray, colors of photographs from an earlier era, coming back to haunt her like a dream, there is a something that doesn’t quite fit it. amidst the different shades of gray is the bright red that’s such a sharp contrast. red shawl, with long feathers along the edges, resting on beatrice’s shoulder. the brightest color she remembers from the night.
their fingers touch briefly, poison darts going from one palm to another. the intermission is almost over. beatrice meets her eyes. her shawl is bright and pretty.
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I am constantly editing/changing these, most of them aren't really in a coherent order yet and some of them are currently ridiculously short because I haven't really found the right niche of songs for their dynamic yet, but here you go ^.^ (also I will be making and linking a masterpost for each one explaining why I chose all the songs, but if anyone ever has any song recommendations or wants to know about a specific song that's already on there, feel free to send me an ask!)
your laugh echoes down the highway
carves into my hollow chest, spreads over the emptiness, it’s bliss
it’s so simple but we can’t stay, overanalyze again
would it really kill you if we kissed?
all we do is drive
all we do is think about the feelings that we hide
all we do is sit in silence waiting for a sign, sick and full of pride
send me a ♫ + a character’s name and i will respond with a song that reminds me of them, send a ♫ + a ship and i will do the same
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sometimes she's back to that night again, back to that opera house, back to that performance of la forza del destino once again. it's a reoccurring dream. or nightmare, depending on how one looks at it. the dream is in black and white, mostly. with the exception of the bright flash of red.
beatrice's shawl.
the only colorful thing in the black-and-white dream. almost hurts to look at. their fingers touch, the poison dart exchanging hands. for a moment, kit thinks she feels the tremble in beatrice's hand - but perhaps she has imagined it. when she looks at her, beatrice looks ever so steady. ever so beautiful. her expression is tight, but calm enough. determined. she's wearing that red shawl, a bright red against the black-and-white world.
then the redness starts growing, larger and larger, and the red changes, morphing into the color of a flame. the black-and-white world fades into the background, and the fire engulfs beatrice first, and then her surroundings. she is there, burning up.
somewhere in the background, esme's voice says, "how very flammable, don't you think, katherine?"
one thing that's really delicious about kitrice is that kit was never listed in lemony's letter to beatrice, never mentioned as an example of whom beatrice might marry, unless you count the generic from z to a. like, lemony mentioned r, but not kit. r, good friend of lemony and beatrice's, gets mentioned as a possibility. maybe beatrice and r had a thing, a brief fling, or maybe lemony and r, being close friends, talked about r's one time crush on beatrice. to lemony, it's a thought that's crossed his mind, at least as an example when he wrote the letter. but kit, his sister - it was never mentioned in the letter as an option. and it felt natural, perhaps. kit's his sister, maybe it's preposterous she'd take an interest in her younger brother's long time girlfriend. maybe to lemony, beatrice and r felt like a possibility in a different timeline, but kit and beatrice? his girlfriend and his sister? the possibility hasn't crossed his mind. maybe it'd felt like too close to betrayal, on both kit's side and beatrice's side. because beatrice was lemony's - and sure, he accepts that she might find someone else one day, but not his own sister, they wouldn't do this to him. something along these lines.
and maybe not just lemony felt this way, but kit felt this way too - beatrice's is her little brother's girlfriend, how could she ever steal her from him, how could she ever take advantage of the fact that he had to go on the run? maybe she would never let herself do that.
anyway i feel like this is what makes kit/beatrice more repressed beatrice/r, and it's .............. delicious, actually
Beatrice is trailing kisses down her back, starting from the neck and making a path downwards, but not exactly in a straight line.
~1.2k. Beatrice Baudelaire / Kit Snicket
rating: mature
[ao3] / [squidgeworld]
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Beatrice is trailing kisses down her back, starting from the neck and making a path downwards, but not exactly in a straight line. She's navigating the map of tattoos on Kit's back. Kit knows that because she has a very clear idea of where each of her tattoo is. Beatrice is creating a path as she does so, hovering over specific tattoos she loves the most. Especially lingering over the bat tattoo she convinced Kit to get a few years ago. Kit can feel her kissing the bat on one of the wings, then moving to the other wing.
Beatrice, ever the baticeer, Kit thinks.
Beatrice's lips continue to move, occasionally parting to let the teeth come through. Together they leave nonpermanent marks amongst Kit's more permanent ones. Like a using candies to mark the way in a forest. Hansel and Gretel style, Kit thinks. Beatrice pauses now, nibbling over a particular piece of skin. It's the letter b in the word bitter in the tattooed quote, "tea should be as bitter as wormwood and as sharp as a two-edged sword". It's one of Beatrice's personal favorite spots. Kit shivers, underneath the relentless bites.
"B," she says, her voice cracking only slightly.
"Exactly," Beatrice says, voice muffled, but Kit can still hear the self-satisfied tone, the smugness barely concealed. If this was anyone else Kit would've been annoyed. But it's Beatrice, so Kit just sighs, in an ever so fondly indulgent way. Beatrice finally continues to make her way through the quote, Kit feeling the lips brush against her tattooed skin. "Bitter as wormwood," Beatrice murmurs as she kisses her. "Such lovely wisdom."
"Says someone who stole the sugar bowl from Esme," Kit retorts dryly, rolling her eyes.
"Oh, K, sweetheart," Beatrice says. "Are you jealous?"
Jealous of Esme? Kit thinks. She scoffs, "Perish the thought."
Beatrice laughs, the sound ringing merrily inside the room and inside Kit's head, echoing and vibrating. Kit closes her eyes, feeling her other senses heighten as she does. Beatrice hugs her from behind, a hand sliding from Kit's waist to the stomach, then increasingly upwards. The hand finds the place where the heart it beating underneath, and stops there.
Kit stills.
"Beatrice," she says, warningly.
This feels too intimate, letting Beatrice feel her heartbeat. Despite they may already have done far more intimate things together. Committing a murder, for example. Sharing their deepest, darkest secrets with each other. Carrying the same guilt. And so much more. Beatrice has felt the skins beneath her tattoos, felt the trembling of Kit's lips, felt the wetness between Kit's legs, and so on. But she's feeling Kit's heartbeat now and suddenly it seems too much, too overwhelming, too everything. Like she's stealing something away, or maybe Kit is. But it's one thing to fall into bed together during the temporary period when they're both single, as some kind of comfort against loneliness, it's another to risk letting Beatrice discover how Kit actually feels, that she wants Beatrice more than as a best friend. With Beatrice's hand on her heart, the carefully hidden truth feels dangerously close to unmasking. She worries that Beatrice will be able to see through her, to see through everything, to see how much Kit is in love with her, for so many years. A well-kept secret that Kit's managed to keep away from Beatrice for so long.
Kit reaches her own hand out to grab onto Beatrice's, pulling it away. Grasping her hand the way she grasped onto it the night at the opera, poison dart changing hands. She interlaces her fingers with Beatrice, like the way their fates are entwined together. Silence hangs over for a moment, before Kit breaks it. "Don't you have a map to explore?"
Beatrice laughs, again. The tension cracks, disappearing all of a sudden. Kit wonders where it's gone.
"I do," Beatrice says, utterly delighted.
__
Driving with Beatrice is never boring. Beatrice enjoys Kit's fast driving, often cheering as Kit accelerates. Kit used to think it would get boring after a while, but it actually didn't. Probably part of Beatrice's charm. Beatrice also sings along to the songs on the radio, or hums along when there aren't any lyrics. She knows a ton of games they could play while driving, and shares the juiciest gossips ever. One of the most fun road trip partner. Not exactly the most suitable when Kit wants to brood silently, but otherwise overall excellent.
But Beatrice has fallen asleep now, after a particularly exhausting mission. She looked dead on her feet when Kit picked her up earlier from the mountain headquarters. She looks peaceful, now, if a little fragile. It's perhaps an absurd adjective to use on Beatrice, Kit reflects. Kit wants to reach out a hand and brushes a strand of hair that's fallen down onto the forehead away.
She doesn't.
She continues to drive, speeding up a little but making sure to do it smoothly so she wouldn't wake Beatrice up. Going fast but steady, no sudden drastic change of pace. It's possible that Beatrice is too tired to wake up that easily, but there's no need to risk interrupting her much deserved sleep.
Kit steals another glance at Beatrice, a fond smile threatening to emerge.
She truly does adore her.
__
Beatrice keeps several maps inside her commonplace book. There's the map of The City, of the Land of Districts, of various towns, of various buildings, and of Hotel Denouement. There's a new addition recently, the map of the tattoos on Kit's back. She's carefully drawn it herself, figuring out the proportions, adjusting the placements. She presents it proudly to Kit once she's done, and Kit stares at it, stunned.
"Wow," she says, eloquently.
Beatrice grins. "I'll take that as a compliment." Her eyes are bright. "It's quite accurate, don't you think?"
"Definitely," Kit manages. After a moment, she asks, "Did you draw this for me?"
"No, K, darling," Beatrice says. "This is for me. You already have one."
__
She's sinking, faster then she ever anticipated she would. Sinking fast and sharp into this uncontrollable feeling, of falling for Beatrice, even more so than she already was. It's dangerous. It's one thing to be her best friend. It's one thing to casually sleep together also. But ultimately, Beatrice is L's ex-girlfriend. Even if L isn't around anymore, some feelings just aren't appropriate. Never will be.
Kit would like to consider herself far better at controlling her feelings than this. She'd like to think of herself as logical and rational.
She needs to put a stop to this, and quickly.
As soon as possible.
__
Bertrand stares at the ring. "I'm not marrying you, K."
"Of course not. You're going to marry Beatrice."
"……………………."
"It's what Beatrice wants," she says, and then adds, knowing just what to say to convince him, "it's what L would've wanted, too."
He looks stricken.
"Kit," he says, quietly.
"Bertrand," she says, evenly.
He closes his eyes.
Opens them again.
"Okay," he says, finally. "In this case, I'll have to ask you to stop sleeping with my fiancée."
