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itsmistyeyedbi · 4 months ago

Text

bare your teeth, blunt as they may be

Pairing: F!Detective/F!Li-Sar and F!Detective/Adam du Mortain Word Count: 5,5k Warnings: Angst, Lots of sexual tension and descriptions of violence (but those are pretty tame, nothing graphic) Tags: @agentnatesewell @ava-du-mortain (you haven't asked but I know you've been waiting for this lol). Let me know if you want to be tagged in future fics! Authors Note: I am done at last! I rewrote and edited this thing so much, I just had to stop at some point. I haven't settled on how Li-Sar looks so there isn't a whole lot of detailed description on her appearance (or her outfit; I'm so sorry but I cannot write her in what she's wearing in the books and I couldn't decide on another one for her), but Zuri is still pretty descriptive of her if I do say so myself. Also on a03!

The forest floor tastes like ash. Dry against her cheek, dry as her throat. She lands face first on the cracks of a former cage.

Zuri coughs, palms against the barren forest floor, arms shaking as she pushes herself up. Only her upper body makes it off the ground. She can't muffle the groan that escapes her lips. There's too much aching. In her limbs from blocking attacks, in her torso for taking one too many. Her knuckles, the side of her face, bruised. Her bottom lip, stinging, probably busted. Blood trickles down her chin and leaves a tangy taste in her mouth. She blinks and blinks and blinks the blurry vision away.

The hairs on the back of her neck stand at attention. The air is tinged with her magic - the same magic buzzing through her and flaring out of her in sparks. She's getting closer.

“Have I truly hurt you so, mortal?” She coos, her voice silky smooth from behind her. Zuri scrambles forward, trying to move her legs despite them feeling as heavy as cinder blocks. Li-Sar's tone shifts to something sharp with the promise of violence as she continues, “or is there another pathetic human being I need to rid this world of for you?”

Zuri slowly turns her head, eyes trailing up the length of her body before meeting her gaze and whimpering. Let her think it's over. Let her think she's done fighting-

Then kick.

Her foot strikes her in the calf. Li-Sar grunts, leg buckling slightly only because of how often she's been kicked there. She locks her foot around her ankle and the same leg crumbles to the ground. Dirt flies into the air when Li-Sar's forearms meet the floor. She manages to hold her weight on one arm long enough to reach for her gun. Aims it at her and-

“Come now.”

A hand hits her wrist, bats it away. It flies out of reach, accompanied by a dry laugh that's soon muffled by the ringing of a stray gunshot. It's hard enough to put Zuri on her back.

Li-Sar's head is framed with trees from her position above her. She's straddling her, thighs on either side of her, an arm pressing tight against her neck while the other wrestles away the hand reaching and clawing for her face. It's eventually pinned to the ground.

The ringing in her ears and hard landing disorients her enough for any move she makes to be sloppy, but not enough to drown out her next words. “You know that won't work on me.”

Her clothes cling to her body, crackling with static and suddenly she's off the ground. In the air. The world spins. Her back slams against something rough and flaky - a tree - and she wheezes in Li-Sar's grasp.

She shakes her head and tuts as she looks over her. She loosens her grip on her blazer, moving one hand up to Zuri's face, cupping her jaw and moving her head this way and that in inspection. Zuri feels more than hears herself protesting, her lip stinging as she says…something and squeezes her eyes shut so she doesn't have to watch her surroundings spin and droop in front of her.

Another coo. A thumb rubbing against her chin, blood smearing against her skin, het voice clear as the ringing fades away. “This isn't quite the mess I wanted to make of you, meor'dal.”

Zuri tries to focus on her breathing, ragged as it is, and opens her eyes to watch the trees that aren't obscured by the curls of her hair slowly come to a standstill. Anything but the sound of her voice or the feeling of her fingers on her skin. The way both imbed themselves into her mind.

“Listen, Li-Sar,” she rasps.

“Oh, my name sounds so sweet on your lips. Talk to me, I will listen to every word.” She brings her thumb to her mouth and sucks gently, her eyes flashing a bright white as she licks the blood off.

Her throat is still dry as she swallows and heat gathers in her cheeks. Why must she be so- God, this is ridiculous.

“You-” Zuri stammers, shying away from her gaze with an ahem before continuing. “It was stupid of them to come here and think they could take you on. Trappers are notorious for getting in over their heads.”

“So that's what those humans are? Trappers?” She scoffs. “A name fitting for those who foolishly throw themselves into a trap.”

“Right,” she meets her eyes again, watching carefully for a change in demeanour. She may not know what they're called, but she knew enough to draw them to her. Easy targets.

“We just came to get them away from here, take them in and figure out a motive.”

She wants to believe that they didn't intend to actually try and capture her - a being so powerful that her prison was interdimensional purgatory. She really does. But maybe years of eating dirt while fighting agents made them lose brain cells. That, or whoever orders them around found out about Sin and got cocky, thinking that they too could have a powerful, centuries old supernatural do their bidding. Whatever it is, it's ridiculous. So much so that the Agency sent her and the rest of Unit Bravo here to protect them from her - neutralise them and prevent as many deaths as possible.

Mostly so they don't have to play clean up. At least, that's what Morgan thinks.

They arrived while the Trappers were still alive and breathing and following hare-brained orders. They were standing around Li-Sar in a loose circle; she was watching them with a smirk and playing with the electricity dancing around her fingers. Probably pleased that her practice dummies delivered themselves to her. They started advancing slowly - at least they had enough brain cells to be afraid - and all she did in response was chuckle. The calm before the storm. She could and would wipe them out in seconds.

Zuri entered the scene with her hands raised. The powers had settled enough for them to not instantly open fire on people, especially when she remains calm. So with deep, calculated breaths, she used them to appear placating and harmless as she talked Li-Sar out of engaging them.

They aren't worth it, they wouldn't even be able to put up a good fight.

What do you suggest I do then, mortal?

Let me and my friends handle them. We'll get them out of your hair. It'll be more entertaining if nothing else. You could also catch a glimpse of that potential you're so interested in.

You and the vampiir in the shadows are…friends? You are full of surprises, aren't you? Fine then. Show me what you can do.

With a bright flash, she disappeared.

With her gone and the sun having sunk behind the trees, Unit Bravo was as strong as they could be while having Zuri in the vicinity. She may not be the sun or a centuries old deity, but the solar powers inside her were enough to prevent them from functioning at full strength. Not that it would be needed against a bunch of flighty, spooked Trappers.

It was a quick fight. Mission accomplished. It ultimately went well. Until it didn't.

One of them got up and tried to swing at her from behind. She saw the man in her periphery, lowered herself into a defensive stance. There wasn't enough time to dodge, but she could take him.

But not faster than Adam rushed forward to tackle him.

But he wasn't faster than Li-Sar, who appeared out of thin air and struck him down with a bolt of lightning.

He died on impact. Burnt to a crisp.

She missed Adam by a hair.

The air was heavy with tension and fear. Magic and blood. And she choked on it, too thick in her lungs as she gasped.

He could've been killed too.

It didn't take much to convince the vampires to stay back and for Li-Sar to join her somewhere more private - maybe even nostalgic for her - but she knows they aren't far. After what happened during their first encounter, they weren't going to leave the two of them alone for long.

She needs to be quick.

“But we can't exactly question someone who isn't alive,” she can still feel his blood on her side, can hear how it splattered against bark and damp grass. The way his body fell to the ground, joining the others that were groaning on the ground with a stillness that only comes after a heart stops beating.

Her own hammered in her chest.

“...why?” She asks, quietly, hoping for a good reason, knowing she won't get one.

“Why?” Li-Sar stares her down with a raised brow as if the question couldn't be more ridiculous. Like questioning her at all was even more so.

Louder this time, with anger rumbling beneath a layer of fear and frustration. “After thousands of years, you're free. And the first thing you want to do is kill some random group of humans!? Why?”

“They led themselves to their deathbeds the moment they thought they could have any control over me,” she snarls, the stare souring into a glare. “They are worth less than the dirt beneath our feet. Pests, at best. And I will not let a pest touch what is mine.”

Her jaw clenches, blood boiling, sparks flying off her fingers. God, she can't take anymore of this. Of people staking claim of her, believing she'll bend to their will or will be their tool to use for whatever they want to gain. Something ugly and destructive stirs within her, all sharp teeth and claws and molten heat, rearing its head after laying low for months and being smothered by fear and sadness.

She returns the glare and digs her nails into her wrists, drawing out a hiss. Electricity flares between them, vibrant streaks of blue where her palms meet her skin.

“And what,” she speaks through clenched teeth, her voice low and hackles raised, “makes you think any part of me is yours.”

Li-Sar's hands glitch out of her grip before she slams her against the tree again. Hard enough for the breath to be knocked out of her lungs. Her body is heavy against hers, forcing her gasps for air to be shallow, her tender ribs screaming as the bark pricks at her back. A hand grabs her wrists and pins them above her head.

“Is the power surging through you not my own? Is our bond not what allows you to wield it?

She doesn't answer. She can't. Nothing she says can change what happened to her. That another supernatural tried to use her, that their will was imposed on her again. That her blood has been the catalyst for all of it. And everyone wants to drain her dry.

Fuck Ostin. And fuck every power-hungry asshole out there.

Zuri stifles a groan and twists and turns. Her legs are useless - heavy, far from the ground and too close to her body for them to put any distance between them. But she has to do something, anything.

Li-Sar tilts her head, watches her fondly and chuckles - now she can both hear it and feel it. Hates that the press of her body - how it reverberates through her, shakes against her - doesn't bother her the way it should. She leans in close, strands of her tickling her cheek as she murmurs, “your anger is endearing, although I don't understand it.”

Her lips brush against her ear and Zuri stills.

“You have seen my power firsthand, as well as how those around you yearn for it. But still, you fight it. As though it isn't a blessing to be my other-heart.”

“I,” she can't bring herself to turn her head away. “I don't know what that's supposed to mean.”

“Hmm. You will, in time,” she hums before pulling away slightly. Just enough for both of them to have a clear view of the other's face. Enough for Zuri to see nothing but her. Knuckles trail along the curve of her cheek and jaw, a pleasant tingle against her skin.

“The people of this world are meaningless to me. Specks of stardust in a vast galaxy. They have nothing to offer me. But you? You have,” she inhales, deeply, breathing her in while her eyes trace her features as though she could get drunk on her and her alone. “You have more than you could ever imagine.”

A shudder runs down Zuri’s spine. A part of her clings onto the anger she has, tries to will it to fuel her actions, but the heat building up inside her isn't from that alone. Some of it comes from having this woman in front of her. Bold, flirty, certain about herself, what she wants, who she wants. Their hearts are pounding against each other through their clothes, through their chests why does she have to be so-

Li-Sar's eyes travel lower, down her neck and collarbone to where their bodies meet. Zuri follows her gaze without thought. A charge of electricity dances back and forth between them, in and around one person and to the next. She isn't sure what it's transferring, but she can hear every breath they take, feel the clouds gathering above them, the ache in her body fading and the endearment Li-Sar felt towards her. The anger she felt when the Trapper tried to attack her. Amusement, disdain, excitement, confusion.

Lust.

“This is but a glimpse of your potential. Of what I can do with and for you. What I can do to you, if you wish it,” she purrs and puts a finger under her chin. The zap that follows feels like a dangerous mix of pleasure and pain, making Zuri shiver and look back up at her. An instruction and a warning.

“Don't you want to discover all you are?”

“I am more than my blood.”

There's conviction in her voice, stained with doubt and desperation. As if it isn't just the world she's trying to convince.

But she is more than that. She has to be. She is more than parts of Rook, more than parts of Rebecca, more than what Murphy did to her.

“But of course.”

“I'm mo-” she blinks, “...I'm sorry, what?”

Another chuckle. She holds her chin between her thumb and index finger. And there's that endearment again.

“Surely you don't think that I chose you over that witch because of your blood?” Li-Sar glances off to the side, her mouth curling in disdain as she sighs. “It is powerful, no doubt. An untapped part of your essence that freed me. But there have been many blood sacrifices - that alone is not enough for someone to share in my power.”

Blood sacrifices? Plural? A strange, specific set of words. Ostin did seem almost reverent when he first saw Li-Sar, seemed to loathe the idea of her being imprisoned. They're practically a deity, so having people worship her isn't far fetched. A cult following wouldn't be either. But Zuri only heard about here recently. Outside of how she handled her arrival and Ostin’s temper tantrum, she hasn't exactly done anything that would be of interest to…a God?

She purses her lips. Li-Sar watches her with half-lidded eyes, amused, as though she can hear the dogs turning in her brain. Her focus shifts down to her lips. Zuri pretends not to see it.

“I wonder what I've done that makes me- makes this different, then.”

“It's not just what you've done but what you would do, if you had the chance. I can see it in your eyes, something ferocious but restrained like-” she rolls her lips together and shakes her head, muttering something in Echolian.

“This English language is inept at describing this. But in all my years, I rarely happened upon someone who has this. But here you are. You, and a woman who calls herself the leader of Rogue Supernaturals.”

Oh shit. Her stomach drops.

“She's spoken to you already? How did she contact you? Did she-”

“Oh hush, there is nothing of importance there,” amusement seeps into her voice as she scoffs. “Nothing to panic over nor be jealous of. She lacks your restraint. It makes her nowhere near as tempting. It is adorable watching your control slip, mortal.”

Dammit. What is with her? Since when can someone she's just met make her fumble like this. Where the hell is her subtlety?

She can't even blame the fight. Li-Sar seems to have healed her wounds again.

God, get it together.

“Your floundering is endearing as well. Almost every part of you is. No need to be embarrassed.”

“I'm not-”

“She wanted to be what you are,” she interrupts and Zuri strains to hold her tongue. “My she’loe-chae'lis, my other-heart, my chosen. And perhaps she would be, if I had not met you first.”

Zuri keeps her eyes trained on her, white-blue against dark brown. Something creeps into her, something like disappointment and the anxiety of something being in jeopardy. Nothing important. Focus. Their blood had mixed when she gave her these powers. Can they be taken away? Could whatever it is that tether them to each other be severed? Would she give it to the Rogue's leader if it could be?

Li-Sar's eyes don't give away a thing. She just watches with what seems like endless patience, like watching the cogs turn is entertaining. Zuri doesn't think she can get any answers that she isn't already willing to share - nothing that really means something to her. Especially now, when she's holding onto anger so tightly that it chaffs and she's still caught in the tension simmering between them.

“You think too much,” she says, cooing again before leaning in close enough for their foreheads to touch. “Don't you see, meor'dal? The humans want to control me and the supernaturals of this world want to be my chosen. But all I want is you.”

Her breath hitches. The anger slips. All that's left is the heat thruming through her and pooling in her abdomen, the nerves fluttering in her stomach, her breath fanning her face, how thin their clothes feel, how they shouldn't be there-

God, it's all she's wanted for as long as she can remember. For someone to want her. To choose her over everything. Over work, over rationale or fear, over something or someone more convenient. To see something in her that's worth staying for, even if they can barely reach it. She almost can, just a few inches shy of reaching in and grazing that all too sensitive spot nestled inside her.

“All I want,” her voice is close to a whisper as she cups her face, “is you, and the world we can shape together.”

But at what cost?

Just…keep it together.

A shaky exhale is all that comes out for a while. A pause. Then eyebrows furrow as she frowns like she might just sob. Zuri shakes her head a bit before resting the back of her head against the tree - she didn't even realise it had moved - and peers up at the sky. The moon peeks out from behind dark red clouds.

She can't just take her at her word. Who knows if this is what she wants and not what she knows makes her weak, feeds some twisted part of her that wants someone to be willing to burn down the world for her.

“I,” the words die in her throat when she meets her gaze again, sees the depthless, unbridled need inside of them… she almost doesn't want to say it but…

She slams her eyes shut and shakes her head again. “No, no, I- I don't want the world.”

“Then what?” Frustration makes the charge between them tremble. Fingers grasp the side of her face in an attempt to make her look at her, as if she'll claw the answer out of her if that's what it takes to have her at her side. Zuri’s eyes open and Li-Sar's face twists. Something close to desperation meets that frustration.

“What do you desire? What is it you crave that you believe I cannot give to you?” A muscle in her jaw twitches as her lips set into a hard line, nose wrinkled and eyes glowing a bright white. “I am already yours as much as you are mine, so tell me!”

A rumble of thunder accompanies the growl in her voice and goosebumps rise on Zuri’s skin, the fear raking down her spine freezing her in her spot.

That's the problem, isn't it? Li-Sar would do whatever it would take to fulfill her, to gain her favour, to crack her open and free the ugliest parts of her from their restraints. She'd protect her from any and every threat, destroy them in a blink of an eye. If she joins her. If she's willing to bury those she loves alongside the power-hungry and greedy. They're nothing To her, after all. Insignificant little things with nothing to offer her. If Li-Sar is hers as Zuri is hers, what good would anyone else be? What would they be but a threat to their bond?

She doesn't want that. She never will. She'd rather go unwanted for the rest of her life than lose her friends, her family, the community she has here in Wayhaven despite everything. There's no answer she can give that is worth never laughing with Tina and Verda again. Or experiencing the world through fresh eyes with Farah. Watching the sunrise in comfortable silence with Morgan. Exchanging books and anecdotes with Nate.

Being the reason Adam lowers his guard and smiles enough for the dimples to show on his face.

Every moment with them plays in her mind like a movie on fast forward. Slows to the day she left a scar on Adam's arm, one that won't heal. It's permanent. Her throat burns. She can't lose them. She won't. Not while she's alive and breathing. She won't be the reason he's hurt again and no one will carry any scars because of her.

Zuri stares back at Li-Sar. Another rumble, another flash of electricity, a crack of lightning, tension tension tension-

She is unwavering, firm. She won't get the answer she wants. At that, the amalgamation of frustration and anger softens into confusion, then fascination, then…she looks impressed? Begrudgingly, but impressed nonetheless.

“Fine,” she scoffs and glances away, a wry smile tugging at her lips. “Keep your secrets while you can. You will speak them freely once you join me.”

She almost slumps in relief, her cheeks hot with embarrassment. This is, what? Their second meeting? Their first full on conversation? And she can toy with her as though she's known her her whole life, push every button, say all the right things. It will never not be weird to be on the receiving end of that.

The air sighs, feeling lighter by the second. But only one type of tension evaporated. The other still lingers, balances on a tightrope.

Li-Sar's gaze flickers between her eyes and her lips, her hand gently cradling her face rather than grasping it tightly. She releases her wrists and Zuri's arms fall to her bare shoulders. Blue currents run down her arms, whirl around Li-Sar's shoulders down to her fingertips. For the first time, she shudders, eyes widening as she continues to watch her with a new intensity.

“...would you grant me this moment?”

Her hushed words hang in the air between them. Zuri blinks up at her. This can't be what she thinks it is. What she hates that she hopes it is.

“...what?”

A thumb caresses her bottom lip, the stinging fading as she does. There's fluttering in her stomach again, warmth in her cheeks, anticipation in her veins.

“I'd like to taste you, if you'd permit me,” a small gasp, and Li-Sar mirrors her, parts her own lips, seconds that feel like minutes pass before she continues. “I will savour however much of you I can have.”

The heat returns with a vengeance at the yearning in her eyes. Oh God. Zuri’s heart might just beat out of her chest. The last kiss she had was both bittersweet and magical and everyday after that has been a test in restraint.

Being alone with Adam was like drowning; his presence is all-encompassing, beautiful, painful, everything it wasn't supposed to be. It was supposed to be easy and fun, her wriggling her way past his walls and getting to see more of him than what the world sees. But he burrowed his way under her skin too and now? Now she's lost her balance, fallen from the edge and things are more complicated than they've ever been. Now she itches to be in his arms again, to run her fingers through the short strands of his hair, to feel his hand on her face and his lips on hers. She finds herself on the verge of begging and pleading for him to share that moment with her.

Just one more kiss, even if he won't have her. Even if they keep dancing around what they have. Even if it's better that way.

And here she is, with an all powerful being who is bold and beautiful and dangerous and wants her. Who isn't afraid of what it could mean or how it could end. She wants her. She could kill her for daring to deny her. But instead she asks for a kiss. Just one kiss, even if she can't have her the way she wants to.

Zuri wraps an arm around her neck and draws her in before she can think. She doesn't want to think - to resist - anymore. She wants it messy and desperate and electric.

Li-Sar chuckles and puts her free hand against the tree, crowding her but preventing her from pulling her any closer. “You will have to use your words. That shouldn't be difficult with that silver tongue of yours.”

She can't say it out loud, it's messed up and embarrassing and-

“May I taste you?”

Her eyebrows furrow, she's holding her breath, her head moves up and down before she can think-

Yesyesyesyes-

“...yeah,” it's shaky when it comes out, mixed with a heavy breath. “Yes…please.”

Li-Sar's eyes flash again, the hand on her cheek sits more securely while the other slowly moves to her waist. She stares at her with wonder and… concern. Their foreheads touch and one of Zuri’s hands leaves her shoulder to brush her hair out of her face. She needs to look at her.

“You have been hurt, haven't you, meor'dal?” She leans in closer, dips her head until the tips of their noses brush, her voice soft but firm. “I promise you this. That ache in your heart? That is something you will never have to bear again. Not when you are with me.”

Zuri is warm all over from the heat inside and against her body. Her hair is soft between her fingers, her scent is dizzying, her breath fans against her face and she is so beautiful. She's beautiful, she's dangerous, she wants her, she isn't him. The light, barely there touch of her lips makes sparks course through her, through her fingers, slice through her thoughts until all that's left are fragments yes, please, I want, need this, kiss me, kiss me, please-

“Zuri?”

Eyes snap open. A hand covers her mouth. Her own shift to her shoulders, balled into fists, pushing her away. The bark pokes at her back and the back of her head.

She doesn't need to glance to the side to see who's there. She'd know that voice anywhere. She looks anyway.

Adam.

Shit.

The rest of Unit Bravo come up from behind him, standing at a distance. Stiff like they all want to run towards her and get Li-Sar as far away from her as possible.

Li-Sar is doing the same.

Her hair stands on end as she stares at them, the static so overwhelming it crackles and pops and stings. Thunder starts rumbling, low and threatening, the backdrop to this standoff. She doesn't look at Zuri when she speaks, her voice echoing through the forest as she speaks. “Which one of them is it?”

Fear floods in and flushes every feeling away. Shit. She could kill them right where they stand. She pushes the hand on her mouth away, gets a tight hold of her wrist.

“Li-Sar, no. Stop.”

“Tell me.”

Farah watches intently. Morgan growls. Nate puts a hand on Adam’s shoulder. He still shifts closer.

“No,” the panic is clear in the rasp of her voice. “Leave them alone.”

“Who-”

“Stop!”

Her voice booms. There's a crack of thunder, a flash of lightning. The vampires cover their ears. Zuri’s hand zips forward, clutches Li-Sar's jaw, forcing her head to turn towards her. Away from them. Something surges through her, mixing with the fear, amplifying the anger and the ugly little thing inside her that gnaws at its cage. She won't watch them be hurt again. Not by either of them. Her fingers dig into her face again, another hiss as her nails pierce her skin. Her mind races with thoughts and images of every way she could stop Li-Sar, each one gorier than the next.

It would be the last thing she lets either of them do.

“You stay away from him,” her voice is as cutting and as loud as the thunder, “from all of them. If you even look in their direction again, you'll lose any chance you had of me being your she’loe-chae'lis.”

She says the word like her Echolian has been fully honed.

Li-Sar stares at her, her face still scrunched in anger, her eyes bright but inspecting. Curious. Piercing like she might call her bluff that there's any chance at all. They dim, and familiar fascination slips through. That, and an impressed smirk.

“As you wish,” she steps away a few seconds after Zuri lets go of her jaw, keeping her eyes on her as she backs away.

She stops at the trees opposite her, places a hand on one, making sure to turn her body away from Unit Bravo when she does.

“Until we next meet, Zuri,” her name echoes before she vanishes in a flash of lightning with a loud crack.

The tree has been split in too, leaves burnt to ash, branches black and smoking.

A warning of what she can do. What she could've done.

Zuri’s feet touch the ground for the first time in ages and her legs buckle.

“Zuri, are you harmed? Are you-”

“Give her a moment, Adam.”

Nate puts a hand on his shoulder again. The four of them get as close as they can while staying out of reach. She looks back at them, leaning back against the tree, panting with a wry smile. They're okay. They're all okay. “A moment would be appreciated.”

“Woah. Your eyes,” Farah stares at her in awe. “Your hair, your voice! Holy shit. Those powers are getting stronger by the day.”

Inhale. Exhale.

“You say that like it's a good thing.”

“It's not a good thing or a bad thing,” she shrugs, “just…a thing. I think.”

Inhale. Exhale.

“When were you gonna tell us that stuff would make your voice that loud?” Morgan joins in, crossing her arms and inspecting her with a concerned frown.

Zuri let's out a short, breathless laugh. “Oh trust me, I would've told you the moment I found out.”

“We do trust you.”

She shakes her head and gives them a weak smile. They're only talking because they know the silence would be worse for her. That noise, no matter how soft, helps her breathe easier.

Inhale. Exhale.

She vaguely feels her earrings lower to their usual position, dangling from her ears. Her clothes loosening around her, back to hugging her figure instead of squeezing it. The magic inside her feels less like a waterfall and more like a small stream, contained and not sparking outward.

It's Nate who speaks next. “How are you feeling, Zee?”

Soothed. Embarrassed. Exhausted. Relieved. Too many things to describe in depth. But she knows one thing.

“You're all okay. You're alright, so I'm good. Tired, but good.”

She straightens up and takes a step towards them. Or really, stumbles towards them. Adam catches her by the elbow and puts a hand on her back. She looks up at him with furrowed brows before looking down at his arm, shying away from his touch. The scar is still there. She hurt him one way and almost hurt him in another.

She almost kissed her.

“Wait, Adam I…”

“It is as you said. We are all alright,” she looks up again and finds him smiling softly. “I am all right.”

Guilt coils inside her chest.

“Let us go home,” he adds softly.

Zuri stares at the split tree, rolling her lips together at the sight. At the images that come with it. The part of her that already misses her and part that wants her gone in a way that's more permanent than a magically powered cell. She nods, leans into him despite how wrong she feels for doing it, and he leads her away.

She needs to just… get away from here.

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gauntlings · 9 days ago

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saturday/sunday sleepover: top three a du mortain moments? 🥰 (~agentnatesewell)

AHHH MAR this is such a tough one! okay im due for a reread and no longer have my old screenshots since getting a new phone so these are mostly from memory and might be slightly off BUT!

mine are mostly angsty (go figure)

1. After taking A to dinner with Tina or Verda, when they are about to part ways with each other and A says something like "surely, you must know..." when the detective asks why they bothered coming with them, etc

2. When the detective shows up at the warehouse after their apartment floods. A's POV scene always takes me out, it is simultaneously so funny and so very pathetic. My brand.

3. The scene in B3 before the auction when A pleads with the detective not to go through with the mission while in their room when they are all dressed up and gorgeous. Likewise, later during the mission when over the earpiece the detective asks if A is asking them to compromise the mission for them and they can't answer you 😭

#there are soooo many moments i love that are more tender #but the A route is filled with really subtle sweet moments #whereas the tension & angst is obviously more at the forefront so they do tend to stick out in my brain!#incredible ask mar mwah!! <3 #asks

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crownleys · 25 days ago

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Alternative oc/li: Kira x Haley, Ori x A, Meantán x Solas, please! 🥰 (~agentnatesewell)

Hi Mar!! Thank you for this ask, it's so fun!

Kira/Haley-

Kira and Haley would be SO cute together, I really like the idea of them as little high school crushes for each other. Obviously, I still need the drama of Kira dating and getting hurt by Bobby, but then she sees the light and gets to recover from that with Haley! I think they'd be a really cute little small town power couple, Ms Haley's Bakery herself and her cute little Detective GF!

Ori/Adam - I genuinely loved the concept of Ori and A(dam) so much I actually started a whole new Wayhaven playthrough about it, ahaha!

I love the idea of Ori and Adam because Ori is one of those people who's great at reading other people - and she'd be able to read Adam and suss out his commitment issues (for a lack of a better word) and kind of be like 'Ohhhh babe. That's okay, we can work on it together.' Overall, she'd be very patient with him, but a bit firm on what order they're gonna do things in - no, they're not gonna have "one night," that's now how this is gonna work - but they can talk if he wants. (We all know how well that would go, ahaha). Overall, I think she takes a lot of the drama of the A romance in stride, with the hope and assumption that things will get better.

Meantán/Solas-

Oh boy, Meantán and Solas would be a mess. I'll be making a few assumptions because I haven't finished Veilguard yet, but -It's definitely not a healthy or well adjusted or anything but a tragic end, I'd bet. I don't think he's being honest in general, and I don't think he'd prioritize her above his own objectives and goals. She'd convince herself she knows what she's doing and what she's getting into but would be in over her head and deeper into things than she ever meant to be.

#ask and answer #my ocs #kira kingston #ori zarani #meantan cillenach

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nat-seal-well · 4 months ago

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1, 2 / 16, 17 for Nat x Marin, my beloveds for the couples ask, please! 🥰 (~agentnatesewell)

Hi, Mar!! Thank you so much for this ask! Honestly it means the world to me that you like them, hehe. Suri and Nate will always be one of my top favorite couples <333

(Questions from this post.)

1: What, specifically, was the catalyst for their physical attraction (if applicable) to the other character?

Marin first noticed how tall Nat was, haha, Which might seem silly, but they immediately latched onto her height! Especially with how much taller she is than the rest of UB, and how crowded they all were in Marin's tiny office. It was impossible for them to think about anything else. She loomed over all the others and then stepped in as smooth as butter, and it was all downhill from there. Even they weren't immune to her suave nature and her towering height.

As much as she knows her team pushed their buttons, Nat liked it when Marin snapped at Ava in the beginning, haha. They tried very hard for a long time to get along with UB before the truth was out, even though it was far from easy. Nat knows how hard it can be to work with her little family, especially when the true reason for them being there couldn't be divulged, and she tried her best to play peacekeeper. But she still liked getting to see Marin slip a little and bite back. It was fun watching them show something other than the pleasant personality they had to put on for their job.

2: Does this change over time? What things do they find "hot" about their partner after they'd been together for some time, and have had more time to, well, notice and appreciate?

This has changed for both of them! Marin still loves Nat's height, but now that they share a life together, there's a lot more they've come to notice. One of their favorite things in particular is watching her when she's lost in her research. They'll sit there right next to her for hours while she buries herself in her books, and they try really hard not to openly stare at the way she presses her pen against her bottom lip when she's reading. (Nat's completely aware of it the entire time, haha.) Marin also has a thing for Nat's fangs, as much as she hides them--sometimes, if they're lucky, Nat will forget herself in her reading, and they'll catch just a glimpse. Nat isn't aware of that part, though.

Nat still likes Marin's temper, as rare as it is for them to get truly angry and heated. But she also likes their body. Physically, the two of them are about as opposite as you can get, and she likes that about them. They're shorter than she is, and they're bigger, but most of the time it's hidden under baggy jeans and sweaters that are at least a size too large. Occasions where they wear anything that actually fits are rare... or at least, they used to be. Hence why she likes it so much when they start wearing their new Agency uniform more and more often--even if she hates that training is currently taking up so much of their time every day!

16: If they had the ability to just spend free time with their partner, what would they do? Would they go out, or stay inside?

In general, both of them like to stay inside. Marin likes the ocean, but that's something they enjoy when they're alone. On days when the weather is good and they both feel up to it, sometimes they'll walk into town together to go to lunch or visit the bookstore, but it's a rare occasion. Most of the time, they like to curl up together in the library. They're both so busy that their schedules rarely line up, even before Marin gave up their job as a detective, and they prefer to just make up for lost time whenever they get the chance. Usually it means they read together for a few hours <3

17: Under what circumstances would they want to be left alone by their partner?

The most common one is right after an argument, which probably isn't much of a surprise, haha. Marin always needs a little time to cool off, and Nat needs to be able to gather her thoughts and sort through her emotions. It never goes on for very long; Nat doesn't like things remaining unresolved, and Marin is quick to let go of their anger. The only exceptions are when Nat's overprotectiveness gets the better of her, or when Marin is too careless with their safety during a mission. Those fights always last longer, much to the displeasure of the rest of UB.

Sometimes they need to be alone even when they aren't fighting! After long days and tough jobs, sometimes they both just need to decompress. Especially if a mission involves several days spent away from home. It wears on them both. Marin likes to submerge themself in the bathtub for a while, and Nat will listen to her favorite classical music while she pages through an old, favorite book of hers. They both reconvene later on that night. Sometimes you just need a little solitude, even from the person you love most.

#sealy answers #brightpinkpeppercorn #ask game #oc: marin

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fauville · 8 months ago

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sweet dreams

fandom: the wayhaven chronicles

rating: mature

pairings: ava du mortain/female detective (vesper graves), nate sewell/female detective (charlie langford)

chapters: 3/?

A/N: ROOK!!!!!!!!!

taglist: @agentnatesewell, @carriehobbs, @lalizah, @saintalessia (let me know if you want to be added or removed)

summary:

This is what her life is right now, she thinks.

Dreaming of endless and endless breakfasts with her father in limbo. She wonders if she has been forgotten in the waking world after three long years. She wonders if she still matters to the universe.

“What are you thinking about, little dove?” Rook asks her. He has a stain of ketchup on his chin and his eyeglasses are crooked on his nose, which makes Vesper smile a little despite her inner gloom.

read in ao3.

#the wayhaven chronicles #twc #twc fanfic #ava du mortain #nate sewell #vilna writes #fic: sweet dreams

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tommykinard217 · 4 months ago

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Okay I looked through it and despite my sleep deprived state, I think it's pretty good!! So, as inspired by @agentnatesewell, a short little fic about Mason making Marcus some tea! It'll be under the cut so it doesn't clog up your dash!

Mason stared at the many boxes and containers of tea in deep annoyance. Who the hell even drank this much tea? And why? Tea was bitter, too strong even at its weakest brewing, and tasted like actual dirt and leaves to Mason.

But, it was Marcus's preferred drink of choice. He constantly drank the stuff, and with a pretentiousness Mason usually only saw in Nate.

It, apparently, had to be loose leaf. Brewed at a specific temperature, and for a specific time, and with honey and never sugar.

Granted, Marcus never actually enforced that when other people made him tea. The few times Felix or himself had tried had his detective hiding a wince at the taste before smiling cheerfully and thanking them. He never wasted a cup either.

He didn't know why Marcus didn't just tell them that their attempts tasted like shit, but well. That was Marcus. Always sparing people's feelings, always smiling and ensuring others that he's fine when he clearly wasn't and why won't he just be honest.

Mason blinked. Right. Tea.

Honestly the only reason Mason knew how Marcus actually liked his tea was because he had overheard him explaining it to Nate, literally the only other person on this planet who'd probably be able to understand.

And Nate did. He often made Marcus a cup of tea whenever Marcus was coming home from a particularly exhausting day. The steaming hot drink seemed to completely drain his detective of any stress, as he sighed happily and sipped slowly.

And Mason. It's not that he felt jealous, exactly. Nate had a bond with Marcus just like they all did, just like he did. (Well, not just like he did). He didn't care about that. Nate could make him tea every day of the week.

But Mason just wanted to do something too. He wanted to ease some of that stress for Marcus too, if he got the chance.

So there he was. Staring at the immense shared collection of teas that belonged to Nate and Marcus.

“Do you need help?” Nate had asked, somehow managing to sneak up on Mason. He'd been so caught up in his thoughts about Marcus that he hadn't even noticed Nate enter the room.

How did his detective keep managing to do that to him? Occupy his thoughts to the point of pure distraction.

He mentally shook the thought away and focused back on Nate. “Why do you think I need help?” Mason asked, somewhat defensively.

Nate simply chuckled, looking at the teas as if contemplating which one he himself was going to drink. “No reason. Marcus should be arriving home soon, however, so I was going to prepare his tea. Would you like to help?”

Mason sneered, though it lacked the heat it should have. He should have known Nate would be able to see right through him.

“Might as fucking well, since I'm already here. Though I don't know how much help I'd be. It's just tea.”

Nate sighed, as if Mason had just told him something heartbreaking. “It's not just tea. At least not for Marcus and I. But regardless, it's hardly that complicated.”

In fact, Nate seemed to come to the conclusion that Mason was in fact going to be brewing Marcus's tea for him, not Nate himself, as a smile came to the taller man's face. “I'll give you the instructions, and you can follow through. Eventually it'll become second nature.”

Both knew that at the end of the day, Marcus's teas would be primarily made by Nate. He had more patience for shit like that, but both knew that Mason at least liked having the option of being able to do this for Marcus.

“Grab the peppermint tea on the middle shelf, it's his favorite. You'll want to use two teaspoons and use this particular infuser.” Nate instructed, pointing out or handing Mason the things he needed.

“Then, you'll set the kettle for 212 degrees. This kettle in particular allows for such specific temperatures.”

Mason dutifully followed the instructions, but not without a roll of his eyes. What the fuck did it matter if it was 212 degrees or if it was 205?

“Then, you'll need two teaspoons of this honey.” Mason ended up squeezing way too much into the mug, but oh well, a little extra wouldn't kill Marcus.

“And then let it steep for 10 minutes. Marcus likes his tea on the stronger side, but any longer will make the tea bitter.”

Unfortunately they had both gotten distracted by Felix, and the tea ended up being brewed for 15 minutes instead of the preferred 10, but again, well. Shit happens.

After the 15 minutes though, almost as if right on cue, Marcus had entered the warehouse with his usual cheerful greeting.

Nate and Mason had a silent argument of who should be the one to deliver the tea to their detective. Eventually though, Nate relented and grabbed the mug, bringing it into the living area where Marcus was already curled up on the couch.

“Nate! My hero!” Marcus shot up, smile brightening up the entirety of his face.

Mason couldn't explain why his heart suddenly felt like it was racing at the sight, but Nate gave him a knowing look. Whatever.

As Marcus took a sip of the tea, he sighed happily, settling further into the couch. “Thanks, Mason. This is perfect.”

Mason blinked, confused as all hell. “You told him?” He said accusingly to Nate.

Nate looked just as confused as Mason and shook his head. “Not at all.” Nate turned to look at Marcus. “How did you know?”

Marcus laughed, taking another sip. “Mason usually doesn't come with you when you hand me my tea.” Marcus turned to face Mason this time. “Plus, Nate makes my tea exactly the same every single day. I'm not even that precise when making my tea. So, not too difficult to figure out.”

Another sip, another indulgent sigh of enjoyment. “This is great, Mason. Seriously. Thank you.”

Mason suddenly felt his throat lock up strangely at the grateful, warm smile Marcus gave him. “Whatever.” He said, voice gruff.

He wouldn't be making it a habit, not wanting to take something away from Nate and Marcus, but he wouldn't mind being able to get that smile out of him every now and again either.

#i had a lot of fun writing this #although writing nate was a bit nerve wracking djdndndjdj #it's not a perfect fic but i think it's cute dhdjdjdjdjd

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nerdierholler · 5 months ago

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Olympics question for my darling Ethan ! What summer sports does he enjoy watching? If he competed, which event would be compete in? 💕 hope kitty is healing well, too! (~agentnatesewell)

Thank you for the ask! Skeeter is doing good. So far she doesn’t mind the extended cone time and my vet is working on a dermatologist referral for us as a next step.

I imagine Ethan as being fairly sporty. He played at least one sport in school, but wasn’t the star player or anything. Running was part of training when he was younger and now it’s just an easy way to stay in shape, plus he likes the alone time.

I think he’s interested in watching sports he doesn’t know much about or would never get to try like water polo, fencing, diving, and gymnastics. In theory, never at the olympic level, he could play soccer, go for a long bike ride, freestyle swim in a pool or play basketball but he’s never going to a do anything but a cannonball off a diving board lol

If he competed I think it would be a longer distance run of some sort but not marathon, something on the track. If trail running/cross country was an olympic sport I could see that too but he isn’t a steeplechase person.

This was such a fun ask! Thank you!

#life at nerdy holler #twc #ethan langford

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delucadarlingwriting · 6 months ago

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upside down spiderman kiss for barbie and mason, please 🥰 (~agentnatesewell)

Ask for a Kiss!

I forgot about these. OTL

I'd already written most of this one before heading out on vacation. The last two are next on the list! And thank you again for sending in a prompt, I've been enjoying writing them ;v;

***

There’s nothing about the day she’s been having so far that would lead Barbie to believing she would be here, trapped and hanging upside down, with no way of getting down. This is exactly why she doesn’t do field work. Not the kind that Unit Bravo does, at least.

Somehow despite the situation, Barbie doesn’t find herself in any sort of state of panic. Sure, she’s dangling with her head about six feet above the ground. The magical rope tangled around her hips and legs isn’t the most comfortable. A point in her favor though is that she can hear the gentle, distant sound of Unit Bravo, Kira, and perhaps the group of fae they’ve been looking for making their way along the forest path.

She could call out to them. Considering the trap hasn’t harmed her, she can only assume it’s meant to keep trespassers away from the fae village until patrols can send them on their way. Having to face her team (especially Adam, who had told her not to wander off, which she had agreed to until the moment everyone else was distracted) would be far more humiliating than simply waiting for one of those patrols to find her.

In the meantime, Barbie reaches for her spiral top notepad and pen, concealed in the inside pocket of her blazer. The trek into fae territory was not entirely what she’d expected. It seems as those inhabiting this village aren’t like the other fae she’s met before, but some sort of…off shoot. Though that could also be due to the fact that they’re a rather insular bunch, having last been noted in Agency records some years before even Nat was human. Barbie very much looks forward to taking notes of her own to add to the records, along with her name attached to them. Her excitement to do so ends up leaving her distracted, and she fumbles as she tries to flip to a new page and hold the others down at the same time. Her pen slips from her grip and Barbie jolts into action, trying to catch it, but only managing to lose her hold on the notebook as well.

“No!” she cries, snatching at thin air as it tumbles down and falls well out of reach.

The distant voices go quiet after her exclamation. She goes as still and silent as she can while swaying back and forth in her magical rope cocoon. There’s some short discussion, then she distantly hears the sounds of a group walking away.

Barbie chews her lower lip; perhaps not calling out for help is a bad idea. Sure, she’d fairly certain someone will find her, but what if they don’t?

Just as she’s contemplating yelling out for them, a dark figure emerges from the shadows and brush quickly enough to startle a yelp out of her.

“Mason!” she yells. “Don’t scare me like that!”

Mason slows his pace, eyebrows knitting together as he takes in the sight of her. He strolls over with far less hurried steps until they’re somewhat eye to eye.

“What the hell are you doing, sweetheart?” he asks.

Barbie rolls her eyes. “Oh yes, because I’ve obviously done this on purpose.”

“Hard to tell with you sometimes,” Mason says, not able to hide the amusement glinting in his eyes. Barbie tries to grab at him, but he grabs her first, his hands cupping either side of her ribcage to bring her to a stop.

“Are you going to let me down?” she asks. He chuckles.

“Yeah, of course.” He moves closer, a molten look in his eye. “I think I deserve a reward though.”

“You’ve done nothing to earn one yet,” Barbie points out. He grins, sharp and handsome even when viewed upside down.

“Then call it a bribe.”

“I don’t think I can fellate you from this high up, Mason,” Barbie replies dryly. Mason snorts, his hair shimmering as he tosses his head back with a laugh. It makes her heart skip several beats and she suddenly deeply wishes she could fellate him from here.

“A kiss will be fine,” he says as he bites back laughter.

Oh. Yes, of course that’s what he meant. She tries not to flush up about it, but that’s a moot point when the blood has already rushed to her face thanks to being held upside down for so long.

Mason sidles closer, grey eyes taking her in, calculating her responses before making every move. She relates to how he approaches these situations, though she finds her own senses don’t give her nearly as much information to work on as his do. He can read her so well without her giving him much to go on at all. Like now, despite not moving an inch, he senses how receptive she is to his idea. He comes in close, one hand reaching up to unclip her hair and tuck the clip into his pocket while the other moves to bury itself into her hair, his thick, strong fingers forming against the back of her skull with an abundance of care. Barbie’s lips part on their own and she leans in.

His mouth forms over hers, soft and open, his tongue teasing at her upper lip. Barbie groans, grasping the air until she finds his face, cupping it and tilting her head for a good angle. It’s odd, being upside down, but it hardly distracts from how her spine tingles at his hungry advances.

They part when she gets dizzy, though whether from being upside down or kissing him she’s not sure. Mason’s breath has gone a touch ragged. He pushes his hands through his shaggy dark hair then flicks his gaze up.

“Enjoying yourself?” Barbie asks, squirming against the bonds which have suddenly become restrictive.

Mason chuckles. “Oh yeah.” When Barbie pouts, he adds, “And I’m trying to find the best way to get you down.”

Barbie strains to try and see where the rope’s source is, but quickly finds the same problem Mason has. There doesn’t appear to be one. So any attempt to cut her down will simply drop her.

“Don’t call the others,” Barbie pleads. Mason already has his phone out. He doesn’t even look at her before hitting something on the screen and lifting it to his ear.

Only four minutes later the rest of the team—and several deeply amused fae—arrive and she is promptly put on her feet. Her very wobbly feet that barely hold her up. Mason slides an arm around her waist, leaving it there even once she’s steady.

“Now that this…” Adam pauses, giving Barbie a longsuffering look, “...situation is resolved, shall we move forward with the meeting?”

“Oh yes,” one of the fae says, covering their acid green lips with a hand as they grin. “Our queen will be more than pleased with your arrival. Come this way!”

Cheeks burning, Barbie plants her feet and waits for everyone else to go ahead first. The last thing she wants is to feel everyone staring at the back of her head. Once they’ve passed she inches ahead, wishing more than anything to simply retreat back to the SUV.

Mason chuckles, leaning in to whisper in her ear, “Are you ready to be chastised about that later?”

Snorting, Barbie rolls her eyes. “I’m used to Agent du Mortain’s appraisal of my performance.”

“Mhm.” Mason’s smile isn’t as teasing as it was before. “I’m sure he’ll go easy on you this time.”

“Oh, will my embarrassment have been lesson enough for him?” Barbie asks, unable to resist the urge to rub at her face, even if it smears her foundation. She’s certain to look a mess as it is, there’s no point in trying to preserve her appearance.

“Probably.” Mason’s hand slides down her hip, just above her rear. “And I meant chastised by me.”

“You?” Barbie sputters. “Where do you get off chastising me about anything?”

Mason arches a dark brow. “You wandered off and didn’t tell anyone where you were.”

“You could’ve found me,” Barbie says with a huff. Mason’s hand drops and grabs a handful of her rear, which draws a surprised yelp from her. Several of the fae ahead peer back at the two of them, but Mason has already moved his hand back up to her hip. Still far more familiar than is appropriate for work, but better than anyone seeing him feel her up.

“Just make sure to take me with you next time,” Mason says, smirking. Bastard.

When she’s sure no one else is looking, she pauses, leans in to kiss just behind his ear, and says, “Behave better, and I might.”

“Mason,” Adam’s voice booms from ahead. No privacy with vampires around. Mason grins, teeth sharp and elongated.

“Absolutely not,” he replies in a whisper before urging her on to catch up with the group. The fae village is within sight now, and they both shift their focus to their immediate tasks.

She’ll argue with him more later, perhaps during that ‘chastisement’ he’s promised.

#darling writing #twc #wayhaven #the wayhaven chronicles #ask meme #barbara 'barbie' robertson #specialist agent m #this was actually a tricky one to come up with how it would come about #but thankfully Barbie is 1) nosy and 2) contrary #especially contrary w regards to A #they get zero respect from her u_u #thankfully for her Mason thinks she's soooo funny (so long as she's not ACTUALLY getting herself into danger)#(at which point it's not FUCKING FUNNY BARBARA)

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ellstersmash · 4 months ago

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15 and 24 for Mayo, beloveds! from the couples ask, please! 🥰 (~agentnatesewell)

15. What, for them, constitutes a level of intimacy that they would only rarely share with someone? This can be physical, emotional, etc.

Theo's greatest act of intimacy would be sharing her poetry. So far only Bobby has seen some of it, and she tore out everything she ever showed him when they broke up. Fresh start?? :')

Mason's is sharing anything about his crystal. Telling her how it works (to the best of his knowledge) and specifically how it affects him, taking her along to get it juiced, letting her touch it, all of that is a very big deal for him.

24. What would their partner do that would really turn them on, perhaps unintentionally?

Since the answer to the first part is "almost anything," let's go for the unintentional turn-ons! For Mason, that's when Theo does things for him subconsciously, like adjusting the collar on his shirt or skirting around a cluster of people instead of leading him straight through them. Makes him feel like he's on her mind even when she's not thinking about him on purpose (which is, of course, correct).

And Theo gets inexplicably hot n' bothered whenever Mason sticks up for her. It's not that she needs him to, it's about him assuming the best in her: that she must be in the right, that she doesn't deserve whatever doubt or censure she's receiving, and that even if she does, he's in her corner.

couples character development

#ellster talks back #mayo #thank you sm mar!!

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carriehobbs · 4 months ago

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13, 34, 35 for AlinaxNate beloveds for the couple’s questions, please! 🥰 (~agentnatesewell)

omg ty for asking mar 💕💕💕💕

13. What is their go-to for making a partner feel loved?

Whether intentional or not, I think the thing that Nate does that makes Alina feel loved is simply listening to her. He asks her about how she's feeling and actually pays attention when she answers. He remembers the things she says and considers her. It's a level of consideration that she isn't really used to and therefore doesn't expect, and so she's always pleasantly surprised and touched when he goes out of his way to be attentive and considerate.

Alina is a very tactile person, and tends to be very touchy with the people she loves. She doesn't really realize she does this, but she tends to gravitate towards Nate any time they're in the same room together. She wants to be physically close to the people she loves, whether that's leaning against them or holding hands or just sitting next to them. Compassion and sympathy, for her, are always accompanied by touch - a hug, a squeeze on the shoulder, a hand on their hand.

34. Under what circumstances would they feel protective?

I think we're all a little familiar with the circumstances that would make Nate feel protective, lol. Any situation where Alina could be in physical danger will bring out Nate's overprotectiveness (like during the trapper fight in B3, or before the auction in B3, or even after the detective tells UB about their unplanned meeting with Falk in B2).

For Alina, I think Nate being in danger does bring out protective feelings, but they aren't as extreme as Nate's seem to be. She doesn't like when he puts himself in danger and she will urge him to exercise caution, but she doesn't prevent him from doing his job, either. In the fight in the sewers in B2, for example, she knows that Nate is in danger, but trusts him to be able to handle the trappers on his own (and therefore focuses her attention on Sanja instead).

I'm not sure if it's truly protectiveness or if it's more defensiveness, but she tends to be more protective (defensive?) of Nate when she perceives someone as questioning his character. If Rebecca were to come to her and tell her that, as much as she likes Nate, she doesn't think it's a good idea for Alina to be with him (due to his obvious blood stuff/things Rebecca might know about his past/etc.), Alina would pretty much try to shut that line of conversation down immediately and make sure that Nate never knew that someone was speaking about him that way. Similarly, if someone at the Agency insinuated that Alina only got her position on UB because Nate pulled some strings to get his girlfriend posted to his unit, she would do anything up to and including physically removing Nate from the situation to keep him from having to hear someone question his character that way.

35. Would they get a pet? What kind? Who brings up the idea, and who takes a little longer to convince?

I think Alina and Nate are back and forth for quite a while on whether or not they should get a pet, oddly enough. Nate strikes me as the type to like animals (and specifically dogs - I remember Nate with the dog in the B1 bakery scene), and so I can imagine that he'd want a pet but likely doesn't have one because of the nature of his work with the agency (long hours, traveling a lot, etc.). For Alina's part, she hesitates at the possibility of getting a pet because she's never had one before and wants to be certain that she could properly care for one (which, like Nate, she doesn't feel like she can do given the current intensity of her work with the Agency). Even after the events of the books (when, hopefully, things slow down a bit for Unit Bravo), Alina still worries that they wouldn't have the time for a pet, no matter how appealing they may find the prospect of having one.

I can see them getting a dog a long time after the end of the books, once their children get to the age where kids start asking their parents if they can get a pet. Alina still hesitates, but Nate convinces her that, if they're settled enough to have multiple children, then they're probably settled enough that they can handle a dog (especially if the children are actively involved with taking care of the dog).

#answered #oc alina langford

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itsmistyeyedbi · 4 months ago

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the man in the mirror, the woman in the mask

Pairing: F!Detective and Rebecca Word Count: 5,1k Warnings: Angst, slightly suggestive comments and hints at child neglect. Tags: @agentnatesewell, I probably should've asked in anyone wants to be tagged but hey. Let me know if you want to be in future though! Authors Note: This is basically Zuri's stream of consciousness throughout her morning in the office. About herself and her parents, but it mostly explores her relationship with Rebecca. This takes place in book 3. Also on a03!

She’s like her father. She knows she is. Everyone who knew him made sure to point it out and with him being the former detective of Wayhaven, damn near every resident of this tiny town did.

The colour of her eyes, the shape of her brows, the curve of her cheekbones and the bridge of her nose. The warm undertone of her dark brown skin, the small mole on her jaw and the even smaller beauty marks sprinkled on her face and body - one of them sits on her bottom lip.

Your smile lights up the room, you know? As much as your fathers did.

It does. It shines so bright that her mother couldn't bear it. She would wince and look away, turn her head, try not to be blinded by it. By the memories. A young Zuri decided to put a hand to her mouth whenever a smile made its way onto her face or her laughter filled the air, covering the mark and dimming the light that pained her. It seemed to help. She wouldn't look away anymore. But she didn’t stay long enough for her to see if it made her any less sad.

Her appearance isn't where the resemblance stops. Some things were harder to spare Rebecca from.

That's so sweet of you. Though I really shouldn’t be surprised, you are your father’s daughter.

I should’ve expected Rook’s baby girl to be as persuasive as he is.

You have some of his personality too. He could charm anyone into doing anything he needed.

She was a daddy’s girl from the moment she set eyes on him. At least, that was what Rebecca told her - a million years ago when she had to convince her daughter to put on a bonnet before bed. Back when they would all sit around the table after the sun rose for however long they could, eating whatever Rook cooked up for breakfast before having to spend hours away from each other. Work. School. Morning or evening practice for gymnastics.

The comparisons were something Zuri has grown used to. Something she was almost proud of. Despite her time with him being short, that's still so much of him in her. But sometimes…sometimes his shadow would loom so large that it became all anyone ever saw.

The pieces of him in her.

Even Zuri herself did. Every once in a while she'd find herself following in his footsteps, trying to make her feet fit into the prints of his own and feeling a little part of her grimace when they didn't. And if she strayed too far, that little part of her would crush her with guilt and shame. She's his daughter. She should be as good as him, kind and generous and honest.

Until she remembers that that isn't all she is.

No one is immune to the effects of the marks he left behind.

But he wasn’t the only parent she had.

Has.

Whether she likes it or not, Rebecca is her mother. Even if it’s just by blood now. It's the bare minimum. But she's her mother nonetheless.

Somehow she managed to leave her marks too, and she isn't immune to them either.

This man is shameless in the most obvious way possible. Oblivious too.

He had to have seen the change in her body language, the way she painted a pretty smile on her face as if his presence was a pleasant surprise rather than an inconvenience. Is Mayor Friedman really so arrogant to think Rebecca enjoys his company? She doesn't spend enough time with anyone to remember what it's like to enjoy company.

Not anyone outside of the Agency anyway.

Zuri looks on as they exchange air kisses and-

God, did he just try to give her a hug? A kiss!?

She glances to her left and meets Captain Sung’s eyes. He looks like a soldier with how stiff his stance is and the stony expression on his face. But there’s a dead giveaway to his discomfort, to her anyway. The slight downturn of his lips. How much closer his eyebrows have knit together.

He has the courtesy to try not to look disturbed by the mayor’s eagerness to see her mother. Zuri doesn't. His focus is solely on Rebecca, so she's going to shudder and gag to her heart's content. Hopefully it distracts her from the tension that built up in her shoulders when Rebecca entered the station.

Her dramatics earn her a glare from the Captain as if he wants to scold her, and maybe part of him does, but the amusement in his eyes say otherwise. With a brow raised, she tilts her head and gives him a knowing smile - because can he really blame her? He's being a creep, at best. There's no way he doesn't want to cringe as much as she is right now.

They turn their attention to the scene playing out in front of them just in time to watch Rebecca steer her way out of that sad attempt at affection. She does it like a woman who's had to do it for years - effortlessly. Not that it's an experience unique to her, she doesn't know a woman who hasn't had to deal with overly familiar men. But it looks like she has had to deal with it from him specifically.

She pulls off looking oblivious to his sad attempt at…extending that greeting, and makes her way over to her audience. The Mayor, well, he's tugging at his jacket, running a hand through his hair, clearing his throat. Flustered, maybe even embarrassed while composing himself.

At least he's taking the rejection well.

But he doesn't know that it was a rejection.

Nevermind. Not surprising at all.

Rebecca stops in front of them with the professional demeanour she usually has, the sparkling eyes and bright smile has been tempered into a more pragmatic expression. Zuri’s had changed just as quickly, schooling her features into something more neutral the moment her mother looked in their direction.

“It's been some time, Captain,” her tone is nowhere near as enthusiastic as they shake hands.

“It has,” his response isn't either, but it rarely ever is.

This interaction is weird to watch too. Such short and monotone responses. She knows they don't talk much, but damn. They aren't strangers greeting each other before a business meeting.

The Captain and Rook were close. She saw it whenever he had to work on a weekend - something that seemed absurd to her back then - and he let her tag along. Mostly because of her puppy dog eyes and the vice grip she had on his legs. She remembered the laughter they shared, the jokes that didn't seem all that funny to her when she abandoned the book she was reading to listen in on their conversations. The back pats, the hands on the other's shoulders, the hugs the Captain bashfully accepted but never returned. At some point, Rebecca walked in and joined in their banter before doing what she intended to do when she arrived - drag her daughter back home.

Why the distance now? Was Rook their only tether to each other? Was Rebecca actually as closed off then as she is now?

Is it because he just watched his late friend’s widowed wife flirt with the Mayor - a married man?

That's a fair reason for this to be awkward, but that's more the mayor’s fault than hers.

“What brings you here?”

Ugh, he's talking again. The three of them look at him and-

What the hell is he doing?

He really doesn't know when to quit, does he? He's now leaning against the front desk with his elbow on its surface and his head in his hand. And that smile of his is far past friendly. He might as well find something to recline on and ask her to paint him wearing only-

Ew, nonono. She shouldn't taint her brain or The Titanic by conjuring up that image. But still…

The person manning that very desk, a volunteer, is staring at him with wide eyes and furrowed brows, mouth agape. Then they proceed to slowly slide away from him.

A snicker makes its way past her lips.

All their eyes lock onto her but her hand is already in front of her mouth. She splutters and coughs to mask the laughter that threatens to expose her - shit, don't make eye contact - then clears her throat.

“Excuse me, I just choked a little,” on the sheer audacity Mayor Friedman had and the poor volunteer who is still eying him. But they don't need to know that. Her eyes briefly meet Rebecca's and she reduces her urge to laugh into a small smirk before lightly swatting at the air. “But do tell.”

She could guess why she's here. Some new mission she needs to know about, a supernatural that's being too obvious about their powers. Whatever it is, it's nowhere near as interesting as witnessing the effect she has on this guy. He unironically tried to display himself on the front desk and didn't spare a thought for who was there.

At least Douglas isn't here to see this. He wouldn't have even acknowledged him if he was.

Her amusement fades away and she almost frowns, but catches herself. It's probably best for her to focus on Rebecca for now.

Speaking of, her eyes are still trained on her. She gestures towards her with a manicured hand as if her stare isn’t answer enough. Maybe it isn't for her not so secret admirer.

“I came to see Zuri.”

“Oh,” he's visibly deflating, shoulders slumping and all, wow.

“Aren't I popular today,” she sighs with a wry smile. It's tinged with exasperation.

She's functioning on a few hours of sleep, with no one to curl up to in bed with but anxiety after the late night diplomatic mission went south. Finding out the reason it did wasn't helpful either: she has a bounty on her head. Something she spent the entire night trying not to think about. But her day job doesn't know or care about that. In the first few minutes of getting to work she had to deflect Verda from his concern for her (with Tina’s help, because she was apparently too out of it to tell a convincing white lie) and mediate an argument between two grown men who can't tolerate each other enough to make decisions without puffing their chests and yelling. Over a simple blood drive.

In another life, she would happily donate. But her blood is a hot commodity now and needles…

A chill runs down her spine, her hand wrapping around her right wrist before her brain can register the action. The deep breath she takes is much more intentional.

That's not happening-

“I guess I was just fortunate enough to arrive while you were here, Mayor,” Rebecca laughs, something as close to a giggle as she might allow herself to do, and it's like a melody being played on a piano. Easy on the ears, enchanting…but practiced. The cadence consistent, perfect.

Fake.

She's a good actor. She can wear whatever face is needed to guide an interaction to wherever she wants it to go. She is the tide and everyone else is a little boat bobbing along, blissfully unaware of the ride they are on. The direction they're going in.

Zuri crosses her arms, her fingers twitching when she stops herself from digging them into her arm. She doesn't have much room to judge.

You could make this so much easier for me, Zee.

Fine, I’ll bite. How exactly could I do that? I’m just a name and a face she hears about.

Exactly. She has her guard up with me and it’s making her overreact. But she doesn’t know you, how reliable a friend you are.

So you want me to befriend her just to get into this alleged club of hers? What if it’s not as interesting as you think it is?

I don’t think it, I know it. All you need to do is be your charming self and we’re golden. You’re almost as irresistible as I am.

Very funny…but fine.

You’re an angel.

She's a good actor too.

Rebecca says her farewells with a gentle wave before leading her back to her office. Doing what she intended to do when she arrived. The click-clack of their heels on the tile floor are in sync, only accompanied by the mayor’s overzealous reply and the grimace she spies on Captain’s face.

She would’ve done the same if it weren't for the window in front of her; in it's reflection, she could see how similar the build of their bodies are. Their height, the length of their legs, the way their blazers sit on their shoulders. And despite the difference in their hairstyles - Rebecca with her cornrows tied into a low bun with a hair tie, Zuri with her twists tied into a high ponytail with a headwrap - they both had to care for the same thick, deep brown hair.

It's nothing she didn't already know, but the reminder never fails to be jarring.

She is her mother’s daughter.

“That was…interesting to watch.”

“What was?”

Zuri leans against the front of her desk with a smirk and raised brow. She might be able to play dumb with people like the mayor, but come on. She can't expect her to not ask about her little performance out there.

But she isn't going to spell it out for her. She jerks her head in his direction, watching him through the glass that gives them a view of the station as he leaves. That's as much as she's willing to elaborate.

“Oh,” Rebecca sighs, and Zuri can't tell if it's because it happened or because she asked. Her voice is tinged with disdain when she decides to give her an actual response. “It's part of my job to establish and maintain a good relationship with those who are in charge of this town. Staying in Mayor Friedman's good graces allows us access to many things that would be denied otherwise.”

“I never would’ve guessed that those methods would get the Agency's stamp of approval. I thought they'd go for something closer to their,” she wiggles her fingers in the air, “meetings and treaties.”

“The Agency doesn't directly involve themselves in these matters and prefer to have this done through their agents. They don't specify how we should keep people like the mayor on our side, just that we get the job done.”

She's making it less personal, addressing her as if she asked about agents in general and not about her. Funny.

Zuri tilts her head and watches her mother with feigned curiosity. “So do you flirt with everyone who has some kind of power in Wayhaven, or just him?”

An eyebrow twitches, but that's the only sign that she pressed a button somewhere. That, and the way Rebecca shifts her weight to adjust how she's resting against the chair she drifted to when they entered her office. “I do what gets the job done.”

“Hm,” she turns her head, taking interest in the pot plants sitting on she shelf against the wall-

Pfft. Not really. She's more focused on pressing her lips together, trying not to grin in her face.

Rebecca hasn't moved an inch since they started talking. After slipping off her blazer and draping it across the chair she's assigned herself to, she's been as cool and calm as ever. As if this - her visiting and them chatting- is the norm for them. As if anything about their relationship could be considered normal. It hasn't been anywhere close, not after Rook died.

That and their similarities, that damned reflection she saw, makes her feel…wrong. In her mind, in her body, in the feelings she has whenever her mother is around. Her bones feel like they're out of place. She wants to roll her shoulders and wrists, crack her knuckles, massage her neck, as if that would fix it. Rid her of the unease creeping along her skin.

It isn't going to. But she doesn't want to linger on why she feels this way, not now. Too much has happened already, she doesn't want to deal with Rebecca’s lacklustre attempt at comfort too.

There isn't much else to do but poke the bear. Just a little. Just enough to see how long she can keep up this stoicism. If she can affect her in the same way.

“Well, you certainly have the mayor wrapped around your finger. Nice dodge, by the way. Very smooth.” She chuckles, and it gets a little louder when she receives a deadpan look on her face. Zuri turns and opts to lean on the desk with the palms of her hands. “But the fact that he thought he could get a hug out of you tells me he's looking to get access to some things too.”

“Yes,” she sighs, and - aha - there's a crack in her mask for a split second when her lips curl into a subtle snarling frown. “Letting him think that that's a possibility grants us a lot of leeway.”

“Oh, I'm sure he's hoping you'll be just as…flexible.”

“Aht aht!”

Zuri burst into laughter, a hand in front of her mouth as she cackles and keels over. When was the last time she's heard her do that? She really got to her enough to bring out the Nigerian mother in her.

Rebecca crosses her arms and sucks her teeth before inhaling deeply, as if she's trying to be all stoic again.

“That's tactless, Zuri.”

“You're the one flirting to gain ‘access’, not me,” her laughter tapers off into an airy giggle as she moves to sit down behind the desk. With a long exhale, she crosses her legs and gently swivels the office chair left and right with a playful shrug. Maybe it's wrong to find some kind of amusement and relief in getting under her skin, but she rarely ever shows emotion.

The last time she saw Rebecca have range in her emotions and actually express them was when her father was still in their lives. Everything changed. She didn't expect things to be the same, there would always be a gaping hole in their family, but nothing could reach her beyond the grief she has been drowning in. The work she buries herself in. The mask she wore day in, day out.

This is the first time in years that she's caught a glimpse of the mom she had. The woman she was. The one that died with her husband.

Her heart is squirming in her chest, with yearning and bitterness and wistfulness. Maybe she missed that. Missed her. Moments like this felt more…real. Better than the moments they have when she's in a hospital bed in the facility or preparing for a mission. It's easy for her to care - and to show it - when she's close to death or danger. But what about the person she is day to day? The person beyond that?

Beyond an echo of the past and the fear of history repeating itself?

…Would she even like that person?

Would he? If he was still here?

Zuri glances away from Rebecca and leans forward to turn on the desktop. She can feel her gaze burning into her as she types in the password and she couldn't help the way her eyes flickered between her mother and the screen. That gaze burned, then simmered, then softened into something warm in seconds. She could never stay mad at her for long, though she would easily outlast Rook. This seems different though.

The warmth within her light brown eyes was holding something else as well. The same wistfulness she was feeling. That, and a spark of hope.

It gives her pause.

Did she actually get under her skin or did she decide to play along? For the two of them to act out the mother-daughter relationship they don't have?

…Whatever gets the job done she said.

Her other performance was much more entertaining. But uncomfortable too considering the territory it's heading towards.

Zuri can't say she's never thought that though. She did, and acted on it more times than she can count. Back when her days were spent balancing partying, getting a degree… and pleasing Bobby. Being his angel, swooping in when he needed her and doing whatever she could to help him get his next scoop. Whatever got the job done.

But at some point, it caught up to her. It always does. People are more than what they have or what they keep secret. Manipulation, lies, gaslighting… anything of the sort are weapons as sharp as a knife, play with it too much and you yourself will be cut. But the cuts she has are nothing compared to the scars she left in her wake. The people who were in her life - from the ones she cared about to the strangers who believed they were friends and were nothing but kind to her - couldn’t look her in the eye anymore. Some of them hoped they never would.

The consequences of her actions resulted in a fractured reputation and loneliness; and that was just University. Rebecca’s playing in an entirely different league, and the stakes are…

Something in her stomach twists.

Okay, enough. She's a grown woman. This isn't her first rodeo. She'll be fine.

“That isn’t what I came here to discuss.”

“I figured. I won't take up anymore of your time with that.” Zuri frowns. The password is still staring back at her. Whatever this is is distracting her and not addressing it isn't working. “But it's…”

She meets her eye for a second before fixing her gaze onto the screen. “Just be careful. Jokes aside, games like that can be dangerous.”

“You're worried about me?”

She looks up again and what was supposed to be a quick scan of her mother’s face turns into a lingering gaze. The question hangs in the air. It was asked softly, as if her breath was stolen from her lungs, with her eyes wide and mouth agape.

Is she worried?

Zuri’s eyes go back to the desktop, the screen dark from inactivity. Great, she has to type in the password again. And she does, leaving the question at just that.

“You don't have to be,” there's fondness in Rebecca’s voice that makes her fingers slip past the required letters on the keyboard. “The mayor’s not even on the board, let alone playing in the same league as I am.”

She hears her smile before she sees it. Zuri swallows and nods and finally gets the password right. It's silly, really. She should be more worried about why she's here; that's more concerning than anything.

“So, why the sudden appearance?”

Rebecca decides to sit on the chair now instead of leaning against it, and crosses her legs. She's getting comfortable for someone who won't be here long.

“I merely came to check on you.”

She opens an email, does not look up from the screen. “Why?”

“Because no matter how you feel about me, I care about you.”

“Hm.”

“I do.” There's more conviction in her words now and concern that almost sounds frantic, like she has something to prove. Zuri supposes she does.

“Very much so,” she continues. “And you're having to handle more than most people could manage: your job here at the station, being a liaison for the Agency, the life you have outside of work… how are you coping with it all?”

“Oh, you know. Coping.”

“I'm sure it's been a great comfort to have support from others.”

Zuri almost raises a brow in apprehension. Something about the way she said that feels like she's looking to confirm something. Like she knows something…

It can't be about Tina, can it? She might be eager to find out about the supernatural world but she wouldn't blab about something this important. She knows how to keep a secret.

She looks up at her, keeping her eyes trained on her as she nods, “Yeah, having Unit Bravo around has been really helpful. Especially with it feeling like I'm part of the team.”

“Yes,” the word is drawn out and Rebecca’s focus shifts to the window, where there's a clear view of Tina working at her desk. “I'm sure Unit Bravo has been supporting you as well.”

Shit.

Zuri frowns and leans back in her seat, putting an elbow on the armrest and holding her head up with her thumb, index and middle finger. “So that's why you're here. Great. Can we discuss that later? I have work to do and I'm sure you do too.”

“I'm not here to reprimand you. That's something that isn't important right now.”

“Okay, is this supposed to be a check up then?”

Rebecca tenses before frowning and shifting in her seat. “I'm not here to check up on you, but to check on you. To see if there's anything I can do to help you.”

Silence. She doesn't know what to say to that, so she just looks at her. She's wringing her hands together - another similarity they have, except Zuri tries to hide it when she has company. It's easy when she's in company she doesn't trust or care for, but when she does? Not so much.

“I am trying…I want to be better at this,” she almost sounds timid. But she can't bring herself to take it any easier than her. There's still that feeling of wrongness in her skin. She's tired and agitated and the memories of the past aren't helping.

“At this?”

“At us.”

She really doesn't want to do this. Not now.

“I know things have always been tense between us,” she continues, and the first thought that comes to mind is that she's wrong. It hasn't. And it wouldn't be if she was there. “But I want to be one of the people you can turn to for comfort too, to be someone to support you throughout all of this.”

She wishes she wouldn't do this. She can't right now, she can't-

It's too much. Her chest is heavy with an amalgamation of emotions; longing, sorrow, anger, whatever else she's feeling is something she can't pinpoint and name.

This is what it takes? Forced proximity through the Agency and danger at every turn, that's what she needed to want to support her? This is the most she's seen of her mother in almost two decades, and it's only happening because the Agency was surprised that she didn't die after dealing with Murphy and her blood makes her opium to every supernatural walking the planet.

Yes, working for the Agency can be consuming. She knows that now. But Rebecca's been doing this for longer than she has and managed to balance it well enough when Rook was here. And Zuri, despite everything she has gone through, hasn't neglected her relationship or vanished from their lives.

Which means she chose this. She was capable of being there for her, of being her mom, and she chose not to. She chose her work and her grief over her daughter. But now that they see each other so often, it's more convenient for her to be her mother rather than a stranger she occasionally talks to over the phone.

Rebecca is slouching in her chair, still wringing her hands with worry and hope tugging on her features. Zuri holds her gaze for as long as she can before shaking her head and putting her face in her hands.

The way she's looking at her…she needed that before all this. When it wasn't easy or convenient. When it meant facing the pain she has to be there for her daughter after she lost her dad or holding her hand when she destroyed almost every relationship she had and the loneliness settled in.

Don't cry don't cry don't cry-

She took a deep breath, then another and another until her eyes no longer stung and the lump in her throat shrank. The ache in her heart eases, her mind goes quiet.

She doesn't need this. Not now. Not anymore.

“I can't think about this right now.”

“Why not?”

Zuri thinks back to every missed phone call, every birthday and holiday and anniversary that she wasn't there for. And the main excuse she would get when she did manage to reach her, when she lit up at the sound of her voice.

I'm sorry, Zuri. Things have been so busy, I just…don't have the time for it right now. But I'll make it up to you another time. I promise.

She only ever fulfilled a promise once. The hundreds of others fell to the wayside.

“There's too much going on. Like you said, I'm dealing with more than most people could manage,” she leans forward and rests her elbows on the desk, clasping her hands together before meeting her gaze. Her eyes and voice are hollow when she continues. “I don't have the time or energy for this right now.”

Rebecca stiffens and gives a small nod, pressing her lips together and staring at a spot on the wall behind her.

“...Another time maybe,” she eventually responds, her voice quiet but thick with disappointment, with a hope that's been squashed.

“Mhm.”

She gets up and the disappointment is more obvious now; her posture lacks the professionalism and confidence she usually has. She looks smaller, her body having folded into itself. She grabs her blazer, slips it on and just like that, the mask falls into place. Back straight, shoulders relaxed, hands clasped in front of her. The only evidence of their conversation is in her eyes. Emotions are at home in the eyes, they're always difficult to control.

“If you need me, I'm just a phone call away.”

“Are you?”

Palpable silence. The air is heavy with tension. Rebecca is the one to fill it, but even then it's softly, as if she's trying not to break it - doesn't have the right to.

“I will be.”

The ‘I promise’ is absent, but implied. Maybe she thinks it's better not to say it out loud, maybe she remembers how many of them she has broken.

Zuri shifts her focus to the desktop, moving the mouse so the screen lights up again. The click clack of heels and the office doors opening and closing is all she needs to know that she left. She finally allows herself to let out a long sigh, feeling lighter already.

There's a bitter satisfaction in throwing the words she heard for years back at her. It's not unwarranted. She's busy. Now isn't the time to deal with their issues.

But she isn't sure there ever will be.

She is her mother’s daughter, after all.

#my writing #twc #twc fanfic #twc detective #twc rebecca #twc book 3 #i'm gonna make sure to be proud of myself for this because damn #thats a lot of words #rebecca and zuri will never not be interesting to me #her feelings about her are very complicated #and this is just the start of book 3!#she hasn't heard about the chamber yet so hasn't figured out that rebecca was part of it #hasn't heard her say that she didn't know how to raise her #and - lore specific to zuri - she doesn't know that rebecca isn't her mom's first name lmaoooo #she gets weirded out by their similarities and almost doesn't want them to be there #but they're both using their middle names instead of their first

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