#i fear I’m one bad day away from becoming villanelle

[dreaming-while-asleep-mb]

Originally Posted: February, 2021

Why February? Pride is all year round for me baby.

I just love gay flirting. Have a crush??? Stab that motherfucker.

Feat. me & my girlfriend as lesbian Destiel for Halloween 2024

[sailtomarina]

Flourish, Blotts, & Granger

Fred bustled through the busy streets, one person at the forefront of his mind. Everyone seemed to be talking about her workplace and how shocked they’d been over the news. Not a single one of them had been able to answer his questions.

Villanelle, the long-established owner of Flourish & Blotts, had announced her retirement.

He couldn’t remember a time where the woman wasn’t the bookseller’s proprietress. Even Charlie and Bill had stories of their run-ins with the witch during their school years. She was as much a part of Diagon Alley as the Leaky or Fortescue’s. Fred could only hope that one day WWW would hold a similar timelessness to those playful of heart.

Now, he feared the worst. He needed to speak to someone who would certainly know more. Someone who was very close to the owner herself.

Crowds swarmed the entrance and first floor of the shop, but he fought his way through and up the stairs to spot a familiar head of cinnamon-threaded brown atop a ladder.

“Hermione!”

It was a good thing he still had the reflexes that had saved him all those years ago from certain death. She spun in surprise at his voice, lost her balance, and fell straight into his arms as he dashed forward to catch her.

“Fred! Did I hurt you? Are you alright?”

Sprawled on his back and looking up at the halo of curls around a face dearer to him than his own life, Fred could only grin.

“Frederick Gideon Weasley, say something or I’ll think I’ve knocked you silly!” She pulled out her wand to run a diagnostic over him, not caring that she still sat astride him for anyone to see.

“Godric, you’re beautiful.”

Her breath caught and colour filled her cheeks. Fred thought she’d never looked more becoming.

“Now you’re really frightening me.” She reached out to smooth a hand across his brow, which he caught and pressed to his lips. “Fred! What has gotten into you?”

This time, he finally did sit up, but he trapped her there in his arms as he continued to gaze at her. He lowered his voice. “I came as soon as I heard.”

“Heard what, exactly?” She tilted her head, a furrow appearing between her eyes as she frowned at him.

“About Villanelle’s retirement, of course.”

The furrow vanished as she perked up, a wide grin spreading across her face. “Oh! Yes! Isn’t it wonderful news? I’m so happy for her. She’s been planning this for so long I wasn’t sure she was ever going to do it.”

Her sincere joy for her employer baffled him. Fred would have thought her distraught about the change in ownership. “But what about the shop? Will it be closing or have you already met the new owner?”

Her follow-up actions were as unexpected as they were aggravating. She wiggled, her body swaying from side to side and hands coming together as she clapped.in excitement. It was adorable, but it also rubbed against him in a way that prompted him to grab onto her hips to still her motions. 

“You’re looking at her!” she cried. Arms came up around his neck to hug him tight and it took her choking hold for the words to finally penetrate his thick skull.

“You’re the new owner of Flourish & Blotts?” 

He felt like he should have seen that one coming. Hermione had worked for them for ages now, having found refuge in their shelves shortly after discovering that Ministry work wasn’t for her. Villanelle became the mentor she’d always dreamt of, providing invaluable feedback on her writing and lending a listening ear whenever she needed to bounce ideas off of another. 

“We’ve already signed the paperwork! There should be an announcement in this weekend’s Prophet.” She pulled away, fingers gliding up to card through his hair, eyes soft on him. “We’ll be seeing each other even more now since I’ll be taking her place in the Diagon Alley Association.”

He snorted, already imagining several ways he could sneak in inappropriate touches under the table without anyone the wiser. “You say that like it’s a bad thing.”

She shook her head slowly. “No, though it does mean I’ll be less likely to pop over for lunch until I get used to juggling it all.”

Fred snuck a look around before making his next move. It wouldn’t do for unsavoury comments to begin before she’d even taken the mantle publicly. Assured at their privacy, he cast a quick Disillusionment spell before standing up abruptly to pin her against the same ladder from which she’d fallen. 

“Fred! What do you think you’re doing?” she hissed. He noticed she didn’t push him away. On the contrary, her legs wrapped around him automatically until she settled against a step.

“I’m taking advantage of the time we have left and celebrating with an early lunch.” 

It took months of ownership for Hermione to finally stop blushing every time she looked over at the second-floor ladder, and even longer than that before she caved and let Fred pin her against it again.

He vowed it wouldn’t be the last. He had plans in store for the two of them, after all; plans that involved a lifetime of celebration.

876 WC

Cross-posted on Tumblr and AO3

Word prompt “Flourish” from FB Group Lauren’s Kitchen

I loved getting this word since I felt like I could go many different ways with it. I ended up sticking with the familiar bookshop since I’ve been in a cosy mood lately curled up in my blankets and sweaters while it rains outside. What better place to spend my time than in the book-lined aisles of our favourite Diagon Alley shop?

I’ve always adored Fred, but this one today is for Moonfairy. May Fred live on forever in our hearts!

[rorykillmore]

posting up a birthday gift fic for @alula !!! aka i decided to ambush them by not telling them i usually do this for my friends’ birthdays until like yesterday, but it’s the same idea! this is basically just like 1000+ words of gay introspection for our one villaneve rp verse, but one time they attacked me w something they wrote re: eve trying to tell villanelle she loves her while the latter was sleeping and i guess i just filed that away in the back of my brain until i could find a way to get revenge.

anyway a few nice words: i hope you have a great birthday scully!!! and. this might sound like a very low bar bc 2020 has been awful for all of us i’m sure, but meeting you and becoming friends has genuinely ended up one of the brightest highlights of my year and i’m so glad we stumbled across each other bc we both wanted someone to yell about ke with.  HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!! 

‘Feelings that can’t be put into words’ has never sounded like anything but a challenge to Villanelle. There are 6,500 different languages in the world. It stands to reason that if you can’t find the words you’re want in one of them, you just have to look somewhere else. 

The problem is -- she knows the words she wants to say to Eve. She has them. They exist in all 6,500 of those languages.

She’s already said them once.

She wonders to herself, over and over:  if she said them again, would they ruin everything a second time?

The textbook definition of insanity is doing the same thing over and over and expecting different results. So Villanelle tries - in every way she knows how - not to be the same person she was before. Not to make the same mistakes.

“I want to tell you something,” Villanelle murmurs, catching Eve by the hand. It’s late, and they’ve just dropped Jin Ling off at his new apartment and packed it full of food and clothes (Villanelle had wanted to make sure he had clothes) and dog toys in preparation to move him in. Eve looks as tired as Villanelle feels when she turns back towards her, but the look in her eyes is as alert and questioning as it always is when she’s giving Villanelle her attention.

I’m listening. I’m usually listening when it comes to you,  Eve had told her once, and, I spent a ton of time listening to you before you even talked to me, and Villanelle had tucked all of those words away somewhere close to her heart.

They make Villanelle hesitate now, on the verge of something not for the first time.

(The first time had been the first night they’d spent together, in between the heated kisses Villanelle had trailed across her skin and in the contented quiet afterwards. Or after that, the night Eve had spent curled up in her lap after Villanelle had wiped away the tears she hadn’t quite understood in the moment.)

She deludes herself, in those few seconds in which Eve’s eyes meet her’s, that she’ll say it this time. But her throat starts to feel dry, and instead --

“I think I am starting to enjoy it.” Villanelle swallows and offers a crooked smile. “This... helping people?”

It isn’t a lie. So that’s something. It’s not the rush or the elation she remembers she used to get when she was hurting people -- it’s more like a quiet, contemplative sort of ache in her chest. She doesn’t know why she likes it. Maybe it’s the novelty of it all. 

Maybe it’s the way Eve looks at her now, the way she almost seems to soften at the edges. It wasn’t what Villanelle wanted to say, but the unguarded way Eve smiles back at her and doesn’t let go of her hand, it makes Villanelle decide that maybe it was worth it anyway.

It’s not as though she doesn’t have plenty of other chances.

She and Eve see each other nearly every day now. Most mornings start with them waking up together, and most evenings end with one of them outside the other’s door (or window, when it comes to Villanelle’s preferred method of entry). Villanelle starts to wonder how well she’d sleep in an empty bed, she’s gotten so used to tucking herself against Eve’s back, slinging an arm around her waist. She wouldn’t dare call it domestic, or normal, or any of the things Villanelle knows she can’t have and would never try to force Eve into.

But it’s... them. All the heat and passion and intensity Villanelle already knows so well, but also all of the smaller things that she is still learning that somehow feel equally a part of whatever they are. 

So it’s not as though the opportunities aren’t there. It’s just that it never feels like the right time.

She doesn’t want to scare Eve off or bring all their memories of Rome back into the forefront, and above all else, she doesn’t want to lie to her. Or to herself. And no matter how certain Villanelle is that she’s never felt this way about anyone else in her life, or that she wouldn’t have thrown her life as an assassin away and risked the terrifying reality of not knowing who she is for anyone but Eve, or that she might actually choose to die before ever hurting Eve again, she... can’t be sure that any of that counts as love. Because she doesn’t know what love looks like, or what it feels like, she doesn’t know if she really was wrong the last time she said it and she doesn’t know who to ask.

You don’t understand what that is. 

I want to, Villanelle thinks she should have said. I’m trying. I’m sorry. I’ll find a way to make it better, just know that I’m trying.

But that hadn’t been how Rome had ended. And since then, so much has happened, and Villanelle has had to ask herself so many unpleasant questions that she once would have preferred not to ever think about at all, but... 

Maybe that’s a part of it. Of trying. Because after she’d gone home to her family, to her mother, she’d almost forgotten that it was worth trying at all, and Eve had reminded her so effortlessly just by showing up here, in this strange, dreamlike alternate reality. And that has to mean something, doesn’t it? That Eve always makes her want to try?

That Eve takes her coffee black (sometimes), that she raised venus fly traps as a kid and loved a girl in college, that she had a chicken for a pet and loves cute newborn kittens and scrawny stray cats, and that she thrives on the arguments she pretends to hate, that she cares about people even when they’ve done very bad things, that she’s fighting all the time to figure herself out, to know herself, that it scares her all the time but that she does it anyway. All of that means something to Villanelle. She wants to find the words for how much she cares about every part of Eve that Eve ever lets her see, and they’re right there, Villanelle knows that, just --

She never knew that ‘knowing’ and ‘saying’ could be such complicated different things.

So what’s there to do, Villanelle decides, shying away from paralyzing nerves that don’t at all become her, except keep trying? 

“I want to tell you something,” she murmurs again a few days later, this time into the place where the slope of Eve’s neck meets her shoulder, where Villanelle can hide her face.  She knows that’s cheating, though, and eventually stretches out and lifts her head and props herself up on one elbow, smiling languidly down at Eve in an effort to pretend that her heart isn’t nearly beating out of her chest.

This time, it’s the morning after they’ve officially defined their... relationship. Villanelle has tried to play it cool, really - she had laughed and was appropriately incredulous when Eve had confessed she’d been texting Hanzo about them, of all people - but she’s also spent the last twelve hours (or what she’s spent of them awake and coherent and not preoccupied by Eve herself, anyway) tossing around the word girlfriend in her head like some giddy teenager.  

Eve, perhaps hoping Villanelle is about to reveal a similarly embarrassing story about someone she has consulted for advice about their relationship, raises her eyebrows expectantly. “Don’t hold me in suspense.”

“I...” Villanelle falters again. Swallows. Tries to fight off an inward surge of frustration at herself, because that will definitely ruin the moment. And maybe some of it shows on her face, in her eyes, some vulnerability or fear or just how much she feels for Eve, because Eve’s bemusement softens into something more like concern.

“Villanelle --” Eve reaches up, and Villanelle feels the warmth of her hand against her cheek. She remembers the first time, what feels like so long ago back in Eve’s kitchen when this very same gesture was used to disarm. Now it feels... different, and Villanelle leans into her touch without even really thinking  about it. “ -- It’s okay. You can tell me.”

Villanelle knows Eve too well not to sense her nerves. Maybe she’s already guessed what Villanelle wants to say, or maybe she hasn’t and it’s the uncertainty that’s killing her, but she waits for Villanelle anyway, tells her that it’s okay anyway, doesn’t prompt or push her or try to deflect. 

And inexplicably it’s not a big fireworks moment, but this small, singular instance of selfless, uncharacteristic patience that makes Villanelle certain. Or maybe she always has been, and it’s just that she needs Eve there in front of her, both their guards dropped, for it to feel tangible. 

Villanelle doesn’t know what she is or isn’t, whether her mother and the Twelve and everyone who’s ever told her what she’s supposed to be were right or wrong, but she knows that she loves Eve. If there was ever a person she was capable of shattering every expectation and defying all the odds to love, it’d be Eve. And if she can’t quite bring herself to say it yet... that doesn’t make it any less true.

She covers the hand resting against her cheek with her own and turns her head just enough to press a feather-light kiss to the inside of Eve’s palm, barely able to hide a smile when some of Eve’s quiet apprehension seems to melt. Then for good measure - and because she can’t stop herself - she leans down and kisses Eve properly, slow and somehow unhurried despite every feeling she is determined to pour into it.

And she hadn’t meant to linger, but Eve kisses her back without hesitating, and Villanelle’s always found it difficult to resist getting lost in her. So she gives in, doesn’t resist, and like always with Eve, finds there is something strangely grounding in letting herself get lost. She hopes Eve feels it too. She hopes that - for right now - it’s enough.

“I’ll tell you later,” Villanelle murmurs against her lips once she’s just barely pulled away, and tries to make it sound like a promise.

[mycstrade]

Sherlock x Killing Eve

Imagine, Mycroft knows Eve (MI6 mates) and knows about Villanelle. Of course he's suspicious, the relationship between Eve and Villanelle seems to be something big, but he's not sure if it's obsession, because Eve wants to catch Oksana, or it's some kind of affection. OF COURSE Mr Umbrella is too busy to take care of that so he involves Sherlock.

Sherlock tries to know Villanelle better, to deduce her, so he takes John with him to Paris ;;;) leaving Rosie with Hudders. OFC Mrs H implies that Paris is such a romantic place etc but John is not gay and they are going here for a case.

They keep observing Villanelle for a couple of days but OF COURSE she recognize John after a few times she have seen him before on the streets (John sucks at disguising, sorry) AND she thinks it's perfect occasion to make some fun so she tries to seduce him. Of course she don't know his name nor what he's trying to do, but she obviously feels its nothing good, and she want to check what exactly it is.

Meanwhile Eve know what's going on so he's flies to Paris to warn Villanelle. They haven't seen each other since that day, but Eve track where she lives now and tries to save her.

John likes women but he also likes solved cases, so he tries to go along with flirting. It's a very thin line between seducing and being seduced in that case, because Villanelle is very clever, but John has nerves of steel and knows what to do with the clever ones.

They both have guns tucked in the back of trousers and both know about it. Sherlock finds it absolutely thrilling. Watching how John is toying with super dangerous assassin. No. How they both are toying with each other. And of course a tiny speck of jealousy appears for a split second in Sherlocks mind, but John seems to be so professional about it, he can see his mask, not his nice, soft John, nor a soldier. Just someone on a mission. It seems overwhelming how good he become in these things through the years.

Villanelle reminds Sherlock about Irene. Self confident, dangerous, clever, gay.

Of course he knows she's gay, so that speck of jealousy disappears very quickly. And he knows Eve Polastri will appear.

John tries to ask clever questions, something that Sherlock would deduce from, but Oksana waffles so they stuck again in a starting point.

A few days later Sherlock is totally frustrated with the case and that Villanelle girl slipping from his hands. She has fake id, killed a lot of people and is threatening but they can't do anything without evidence.

"Calm down, we are useless at the moment. She barricaded herself in her flat so perhaps we should relax, eat something and refresh your mind."

"Digestion slows me down."

"We know that's not true. Listen, we can sit in the restaurant next to her flat, keeping eye on her and eating, okay? You haven't eaten anything for a very long time... and we're really obligated to taste some french cheeses."

And of course Sherlock says yes, because John is staring at him with those eyes, they are in Paris, and that case is really irritating so perhaps John's right.

After half an hour they are sitting in a fancy restaurant, close to the window and observe asian woman walking into Villanelle's apartment. Sherlock could swear he knows her, but his mind palace can't recognise her face. Something with the government, that doors opens in Sherlock's mind unconsciously so he knows it must be it. And although he really doesn't want to call Mycroft, he has to.

"Let me guess" He never starts with 'hello' "Eve Polastri appeared, nowise to help you."

"Female, 5' 55' height, asian, black hair, Londoner."

John's jaw drops to floor. Sherlock doesn't stop to amaze him.

"Yes, that's her indeed. Works for MI6, she is very good, well trained, smart-"

"-stop daydreaming Mycroft, find someone for yourself, but now I need informations, quickly."

"I'm not... Just trying to help you imagine how good she is, and how bad it may turns out if she will cooperate with Villanelle. Two ticking bombs, professional and sharp."

"Shut up, you're being poetic Mycroft. Not good."

Sherlock hangs up and decides to go to Oksana's flat immediately, alone because she could recognise John.

Meanwhile Eve knocks the door until Villanelle open with a gun perfectly focused on her.

Eve pants from fear, rush and excitement because she haven't seen her for so long and she wants to ask about everything, how I she, is everything all right, is it still hurts? She also wanna apologize, but there's no time.

"You don't trust me, okay, but you have to run away, Oksana, they sent two guys here to catch you, it's really dangerous."

"I know" Villanelle answers calmly "I met one of them, harmless."

"No, you don't understand. Sherlock Holmes is the best, he's genius, and trust me, it won't be easy, Oksana look at me, you have to get away." Eve shakes Villanelles arms. "Please"

But it's to late. The door bell rings.

"Don't open" Eve says.

"I'm not scared of some boys, calm down." Villanelle answers and opens anyway.

Sherlock appears, standing still as a statue, dark shirt contrasting with his pale skin.

Oksana is suprised, he doesn't look dangerous at all. Just very handsom posh boy in nice suit. She smirks.

Sherlock wants to pretend he's some lost tourist or something but he sees in Villanelles eyes that he doesn't need to.

"Mrs Polastri I hope you're here for the same reason as me."

Eve hesitates for a second.

"No, I'm not" she says firmly.

"I don't think its good to your career."

Villanelle tenses watching theirs conversation. Slowly reaches to his jeans...

"For God's sake, pull out this gun if you must x just don't sneak like that" Sherlock smirks. He's ready to fight, he can cope with a gun with is reflex and bare hands.

Villanelle pulls out her weapon and Sherlock knows what to do, but then Eve also aims her gun at him. Two guns, not good. Sherlock raises his hands defenseless.

Eve looks at Oksana with a grin. There is something weird about that closeness. They points guns but not to each other. Cooperating. On the same side. With adrenaline in theirs veins.

And Sherlock somehow sees, sees his relationship with John illustrated besides him. John grins at him in the same way when they work. Enlightening.

"You fucking moron!" John yells from the frame door. "I knew it will end like that." He also pulls his gun and Sherlock still is the only unarmed one. John don't know where to aim.

"You okay?" he adds looking at Sherlock. He is okay, of course he is, but it's so good to see John.

Sherlock want to tell him Look John, they are just like us. Insane, adrenaline-addicted. It's amazing, John. John you see it? But Sherlock knows it's "not good" so he stays silent.

Villanelle points his gun at Sherlock, Eve at John, and John still doesn't know what's the best option.

"Eve" Sherlock quietly suggests, so John turns his gun to Eve.

"What? No, no, no. C'mon John, I'm a better target. Bigger." She smiles at him just like when she was flirting.

"Oksana, calm down, I'm okay" Eve says.

"If you kill her I will kill both of you, or better. Shot you and leave here to bleed out." Villanelle yells.

John, look, look at them. I'd die for you too. John I hope you're not an idiot and you can see it. Please, John.

"If you pull the trigger" says Eve to John "I'll pull too"

"We will be death, she will shoot Sherlock and leave alone" John says tactically.

"NO. Eve won't be dead, shut the fuck up, she won't be dead" Villanelle shouts.

"John has a daughter" Sherlock mutters. Eve seems to be touched, but Oksana not at all.

"I don't give a fuck" she grins

"Oksana" Eve looks at her and wants to say something else but don't know what and how.

John, look at them, they are like you and me, exactly.

"Ya lyublyu tebya." Villanelle says and everyone in the room understand.

Oh Sherlock thinks So, they love each other. No, Villanelle loves Eve. He can't take Eves pulse to check if she feels the same.

"John" Eve says "I obviously know you two from the papers, I know you're good, you help people but also kill when you need to. No one is saint" John smirks but she continues "Please, let me leave with Oksana. I'll take care of her, she won't kill anything anymore. Please. She just wants to have calm life"

Villanelle smiles listening what Eve is saying, perhaps she wants to share this life with her.

"John" Sherlock starts but doctor already knows what he wants to say

"She was bloody assassin, Sherlock!"

And Sherlock doesn't want to say it, but he has to "So was Mary"

John stiffs. He's right.

"Please, do it for me, but also for you" Eve says "we all have someone to love. You'll leave me Villanelle, and she will leave you Sherlock."

Villanelle's heart flips. Eve loves her back. And they're gonna watch films, and have sex and perhaps Eve let her touch her hair.

"How am I suppose to let you go so easily?" John says staring at Eve

But Sherlock is sure Eves tells the truth. SHE IS gonna take care of Villanelle, he can see it in her eyes. Presentiment.

John is gonna feel guilty if he let them go so easily. John needs distraction, exscuse.

Sherlock doesn't think anymore, he comes closer to John, followed by Villanelle's gun. John doesn't know what's happening. He looks at Sherlock's eyes with what the heck are you doing?

Sherlock kisses him. Puts his hands on both sides of John's head, crooking it to have a better access.

Sherlock doesn't know what's happening. He wanted to distract John, but now, his own mind is spinning and shaking and oh god John kisses back, bites Sherlock's lower lips, right hand on his back, left tangled into Sherlock's curls.

When John pulls back they are the only people in the room. Or in the world.