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fandomweekly2019-01-11 08:52 am
peaked) wrote in fandomweekly2019-01-11 08:52 am
Entry tags:
[#002] SUGAR - A SERIES OF UNFORTUNATE EVENTS
Theme Prompt: 002 - Heartbreak.
Title: Sugar.
Fandom: A Series of Unfortunate Events (Netflix).
Rating/Warnings: This will contain spoilers for season 3, in particular episode: The Penultimate Peril (particularly part 2).
Bonus: Yes.
Word Count: 441.
Summary: Esme's heart broke for her incomplete tea set.
Esme stood on the street with Carmelita, watching as Hotel Denouement burned to ash. Carmelita tugged on her hand, stomping her feet with a high shriek. Esme didn't move.
She watched as the hotel was eaten loudly by flames, like she had always thought Josephine had been consumed by the Lachrymose leeches. It disappeared so agonisingly slowly she felt compelled to run toward the flames to retrieve it.
Of course, she didn't. She wasn't so stupid. She knew what fire would do to human flesh, and as much as she yearned to dive into the crackling flames, she knew fire diving was considered 'out'.
Her sugar bowl. Consumed alive, possibly screaming for her to save it from the evil clutches of the Baudelaires' fire.
I'm coming, sugar bowl! she'd wanted to say, but Esme knew she wouldn't even wriggle a toe.
As much as he promised, over and over in his boring tones, Count Olaf hadn't been a darling and kept his promise. All the torture, all the horrible conditions she weathered for her hair, and all the wasted time spent sitting in his car with those ridiculous buffoons had been for nothing.
Esme wasn't the sixth most important financial advisor in the city for nothing. She planned. She kept her head above water. She kept leeches and soul eating fungus far, far away from her. Yet, she could not keep the sugar bowl, outwit a dragonfly, or even avoid being dumped.
She would never be considered good enough for those people. For years she had been considered 'out', despite her best efforts to be 'in'. Smart, inventive, beautiful was 'in'. Ostracised, kept in the dark, ridiculed was 'out'.
Carmelita pulled on her hand again as though she was trying to pull a starving lion away from its feast. Esme's feet were unmoving against the pavement. Carmelita whined in the back of her throat and began to sing at the top of her lungs, fearful of the fire that she didn't know destroyed her own home.
Esme didn't think of the unsweet little girl tugging at her hand.
The sugar bowl was gone. She knew it deep in her gut. Her prized matching set would never be. Beatrice Baudelaire had won. Even when she was long since departed, ash like her sugar bowl will or already had become, she still won.
The flames roared as they ate at the front door, the volunteer fire department — the real one, with no inclinations towards anything malevolent — circled around the building, fire hoses poised, water gushing in a war cry.
Esme watched with little desire to pitch in.
The world was quiet here. Sugarless.
Title: Sugar.
Fandom: A Series of Unfortunate Events (Netflix).
Rating/Warnings: This will contain spoilers for season 3, in particular episode: The Penultimate Peril (particularly part 2).
Bonus: Yes.
Word Count: 441.
Summary: Esme's heart broke for her incomplete tea set.
Esme stood on the street with Carmelita, watching as Hotel Denouement burned to ash. Carmelita tugged on her hand, stomping her feet with a high shriek. Esme didn't move.
She watched as the hotel was eaten loudly by flames, like she had always thought Josephine had been consumed by the Lachrymose leeches. It disappeared so agonisingly slowly she felt compelled to run toward the flames to retrieve it.
Of course, she didn't. She wasn't so stupid. She knew what fire would do to human flesh, and as much as she yearned to dive into the crackling flames, she knew fire diving was considered 'out'.
Her sugar bowl. Consumed alive, possibly screaming for her to save it from the evil clutches of the Baudelaires' fire.
I'm coming, sugar bowl! she'd wanted to say, but Esme knew she wouldn't even wriggle a toe.
As much as he promised, over and over in his boring tones, Count Olaf hadn't been a darling and kept his promise. All the torture, all the horrible conditions she weathered for her hair, and all the wasted time spent sitting in his car with those ridiculous buffoons had been for nothing.
Esme wasn't the sixth most important financial advisor in the city for nothing. She planned. She kept her head above water. She kept leeches and soul eating fungus far, far away from her. Yet, she could not keep the sugar bowl, outwit a dragonfly, or even avoid being dumped.
She would never be considered good enough for those people. For years she had been considered 'out', despite her best efforts to be 'in'. Smart, inventive, beautiful was 'in'. Ostracised, kept in the dark, ridiculed was 'out'.
Carmelita pulled on her hand again as though she was trying to pull a starving lion away from its feast. Esme's feet were unmoving against the pavement. Carmelita whined in the back of her throat and began to sing at the top of her lungs, fearful of the fire that she didn't know destroyed her own home.
Esme didn't think of the unsweet little girl tugging at her hand.
The sugar bowl was gone. She knew it deep in her gut. Her prized matching set would never be. Beatrice Baudelaire had won. Even when she was long since departed, ash like her sugar bowl will or already had become, she still won.
The flames roared as they ate at the front door, the volunteer fire department — the real one, with no inclinations towards anything malevolent — circled around the building, fire hoses poised, water gushing in a war cry.
Esme watched with little desire to pitch in.
The world was quiet here. Sugarless.
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