#villanelle kissing her cheek
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Damage Control
Pairing: Melissa Schemmenti x reader
Summary: You get into an argument with your parents and it brings up some tough emotions. Melissa helps you work through those feelings and thinks of a unique way to help you cope.
Word Count: 8k
A/N - Hi! I want to start off by saying that this fic is purely self-indulgent. I wanted to write something for those that don’t have the support of their loved ones in regard to their sexuality. If you’re currently going through this situation, I hope you can find a piece of comfort in this fic. My main goal with this one is to make you feel less alone. I hope you all enjoy <3
TW - Contains themes of homophobia and depicts interactions with unaccepting parents
It was a Saturday evening, and you found yourself at Melissa’s house. Over the past couple months, it became a ritual for you to spend the weekends with her. You found this was the only time you could enjoy her company due to the demands of the week. Things had been rough for her at school, but she was finally getting used to teaching two grades. She had more free time now, and you jumped at the opportunity to spend it with her.
You were currently sitting on the couch in the comfort of her arms. She was lying with her back against the arm of the couch, and you were sitting in her lap in the same position. Your back was against her front, and her arms were wrapped around your waist. Your head was settled on the left side of her chest, and you could hear the faint sound of her heartbeat.
It was a gloomy day and you didn’t plan on doing much. You originally wanted to spend the day out and about, but due to the weather, you changed your mind. You mutually decided that you would much rather have a lazy day in. You finished eating dinner not too long ago and you were now watching TV.
You recommended Melissa to start Killing Eve a while ago, but she never got around to it. You were glad about that because now you were able to watch it together. You were only on the first season, which you’d seen multiple times, so your attention was being pulled in another direction.
You turned slightly in her arms so that you were facing her. Her hair was up and her face was rid of makeup, so every feature was on display. She was absolutely stunning and you wished you could see her like this more. Your eyes roved over her face until they landed on the slope of her neck. You leaned in and placed a few kisses at the junction of her neck and shoulder. You watched her cheeks become pink from your actions. Her lips twitched as she tried to fight a smile and you couldn’t help but let your lips curve into a grin at the sight. You realized you were staring and tried to look away before she noticed, but you knew you’d been caught when she spoke.
“The TV is over there, you know.” She nodded her head in the direction of the entertainment.
“I know that, Melissa,” you laughed. “I just enjoy looking at you more.”
“Someone’s being very charming today,” she said before turning her head towards you.
You locked eyes momentarily and the twinkle in her green orbs was almost too much for you to handle. You couldn’t think when she looked at you like that. You shied away from her gaze before letting out a chuckle.
“Do you like the show so far?” You asked after gathering your thoughts.
“Yeah, it’s good. I thought there would be a little more action though.”
“Oh, trust me, it’s coming. I think the next episode is the one where Villanelle shows up at Eve’s house.” You said while reaching for your phone that was resting on the coffee table.
You heard Melissa groan and you realized that your movement shifted her out of her comfy spot. You gave her an apologetic look before turning your phone on. As you looked through your notifications, you saw that you had a missed call from your dad. The two of you usually called each other every weekend, mainly in the mornings. He didn’t call you this morning, so you thought he’d get to it tomorrow. It was strange for him to call you at this time, but you just assumed he missed you extra and didn’t want the call to wait.
“You can call him back if you need to,” Melissa said, knowing how much you looked forward to catching up with him.
“Yeah, I think I’m gonna,” you sat up and swung your legs over the edge of the couch. “It must be important if he’s calling this late.”
“Go ahead. I need to get up and stretch anyways.” She patted the side of your leg, signaling you to stand.
“Be right back,” you said before leaning over to kiss her lips.
✦ ✦ ✦
You made your way into the kitchen and sat at the table in a seat near the entryway. You pressed the missed call notification and held the phone up to your ear. You listened to three sequences of ringing before someone picked up.
“Hello?”
You brought your phone down and looked at the screen in confusion. It wasn’t uncommon for her to answer your dad’s calls if he wasn’t in immediate reach of his phone. It still caught you off guard.
“Hey, mom. I was just calling Dad back.” You said in hopes that she would pass him the phone as quickly as possible.
You loved your mother, but you didn’t have the energy to deal with her right now. You were in a good mood, and you knew she was bound to change that if you continued to speak with her.
“Now, don’t sound too eager to talk to me,” she said.
You knew she was being sarcastic, but she did have a point. Even though you weren’t in the mood, you were still curious about her well-being.
“How are you?” You asked.
“I’m just trying to enjoy the day, but the weather has been acting crazy.”
Are we seriously talking about the weather right now? You thought to yourself.
“Yeah, I know,” you nodded to yourself. “I was gonna go out today, but those plans got squashed.”
“Oh, honey, I’m glad you realized you need to get out more,” she said. “All you do is go to work, then go home. You need to have a little fun here and there.”
While her comment sounded like she meant well, you knew there was an air of judgment in what she was trying to say.
“I know, mom. You tell me all the time.” You let out a sigh.
“Yeah, well, every time I call you’re always at home.”
“You just happen to call me when I’m at home.” You rolled your eyes.
“You just happen to be at home every time I call you? I find that hard to belie–”
“Mom, where’s Dad?” You asked, trying not to sound too fed up.
“He’s upstairs. He’ll be down soon,” she said. “Why are you in such a hurry?”
You could almost hear the cogs turning in her head as she thought of the reasons why you wanted to get off the phone with her. You pulled your phone away to see that you’d only been on the phone with her for a little over a minute. Why did it feel like the two of you had been talking for ages? You could feel yourself getting a headache already.
“You can change the subject all you want, but I’m just saying it wouldn’t hurt you to get out more.” She said in a tone that you couldn’t quite place, but you knew that it rubbed you the wrong way.
Before you could speak, you heard her say, “Here’s your father.”
You had never been so thankful to talk to your dad in your life.
“Hey, kiddo.” Your dad said. “What’s up?”
“Hey, I was just calling you back. Is everything okay?”
“Everything’s fine. Why?”
“I dunno.” You shrugged even though he couldn’t see. “You usually call me earlier in the day.”
“Is it a crime for me to be spontaneous?” He asked. “Haven’t you heard the phrase, “Expect the unexpected?”
You could hear the smile in his voice and you couldn’t help but chuckle at him.
“It is a crime, considering you’re the most calculated man I know.”
Your parents were very type A, and they always followed some sort of schedule. They liked things to be a certain way, and they were always organized. Despite what it seemed like, they knew how to have fun – especially your dad. However, there were times when they could be stuck in their ways, and that’s why you often butt heads.
“Okay, maybe that’s true.” He laughed. “I just missed you, is all.”
“I miss you too.” You smiled to yourself.
Your heart warmed at his words. Your conversations were so much different than the ones between you and your mom.
“What are you up to?” Your dad asked, bringing the conversation back to you.
“Nothing much. I was watching TV when you called.”
You could hear your mom in the background making a remark about you not getting out of the house. For some reason, she couldn’t let it go today.
“Dad, can you put me on speaker?”
“Okay, you’re on speaker.” He confirmed.
You laughed at him before addressing your mom. “Mom, you know I can hear you in the back, right?”
“All I’m trying to say is that the men aren’t gonna meet themselves.” She said bluntly.
You let out a dry laugh. Of course, that’s what this is about. She’d wanted to say it all along, but she liked to bet around the bush for some reason.
“Mom, men aren’t the key to life. I’m fully capable of doing everything a man could do for me by myself.”
She laughed, and you could almost see the shake of her head that came with the action. “Of course, you would say that.”
“Honey.” You could hear your dad say to your mom in a warning tone.
“No, it’s okay.” Clearly, there was a deeper meaning to her words. “What’s that supposed to mean, Mom?”
It was silent on the other end of the line as you waited for an answer.
“I think your mother is just trying to say–”
“Dad, I wanna hear it from her. What’s that supposed to mean, Mom?” You repeated.
You could feel yourself becoming more defensive as the seconds went on.
“I’m not surprised you would say something like that. With you being the way you… are and whatnot.” She couldn’t even bring herself to say the words.
“The way I am? Wh–What are you trying to say?” You asked, but you knew exactly what she was alluding to.
You weren’t solely attracted to men, and that dissatisfied your mother more than anything. You knew it bothered your dad too; the only difference was that he wasn’t so brash about it. You had hope that he might come to terms with it in the future. Your mother, on the other hand, was a different story.
✦ ✦ ✦
Melissa was sitting on the couch as she waited for you to finish your conversation. For the past ten minutes, she had busied herself with looking at the pictures hanging on her walls. She couldn’t remember the last time she really looked at them. She had been so busy at work trying to keep up with two classes that she didn’t notice how long it had been since she took a proper pause. This was the first time in about three weeks that she was able to keep her head above the water.
It was also the first weekend that she had been able to fully enjoy in a while. When she realized she would have some free time, her first thought was that she wanted to spend it with you. It was very unlike her to want to spend her spare time with anyone, but there was something special about you. You made her feel at peace, and she craved having you around at all times.
She was brought out of her thoughts when she heard your voice coming from the kitchen. The sound was muffled from where she was standing, so she couldn’t make out what you were saying. Nonetheless, you sounded like you were in distress. She debated whether or not to go check on you. She knew you were capable of handling your own problems, but she still wanted to make sure that you were okay. She reasoned with herself and made her way over to the entrance of her kitchen.
She didn’t walk in yet out of fear that she might be interrupting something. Your relationship was still kind of new, and she didn’t want to seem like she was butting into your business. From outside the doorway, she could hear another woman’s voice. She assumed this was your mom.
She heard the tail end of the conversation, and she was a little stunned, to say the least. She knew about your weekly catch-ups with your dad, and she had been there to overhear some of them. To her, your parents didn’t seem like the type of people to participate in an argument with you. In her opinion, that was more her family’s style. However, she knew that it was presumptuous of her to assume such a thing without much context. She continued to listen to the conversation, curious to hear what would be said next.
✦ ✦ ✦
“You know what I’m saying, Y/N!” Your mother said, raising her voice.
You knew you’d struck a nerve. She wasn’t at her yelling point, but she was getting close. If she wanted to play that game though, you would play. If there was one thing the two of you were good at, it was yelling at each other.
“I like women, Mom! So what?” You raised your voice back.
“So what?” She said in disbelief, as if she couldn’t fathom what you were saying. “It’s wrong, Y/N. That’s what!”
“Says who? You?” You yelled at her. You didn’t mean to, but you couldn’t help it. You weren’t gonna sit there and listen to her talk about right and wrong as if she was a saint.
“Do not raise your voice at me.” Your mom said sternly.
You knew you were in the wrong at the moment, but you weren’t going to apologize. She was still your mom, but if she wasn’t going to respect you, you weren’t going to respect her.
“A little support would be nice every now and then, you know.” You said.
“I support you plenty. Or do you not remember me and your father loaning you money a couple of weeks ago?” She pointed out. “Did that slip your mind somehow?” She said in a condescending tone.
“That’s not what I mean!” You said in frustration.
Your mother thought that monetary support was equal to emotional support. In her mind, if you had all of your needs met, emotions didn’t have to be part of the picture.
“You did it to yourself, Y/N. If you didn’t make the choice–”
At those words, you lost it.
“It’s not a choice, Mom! I didn’t choose anything! It’s just who I am!” You shouted through the phone. Tears began to prick your eyes. You tried to blink them away, but they fell anyway.
You stood from your seat and walked around the table. You could feel yourself getting angry, and you didn’t know how that would end, so you tried to calm down before your emotions got out of hand.
“That’s not who you are!” She yelled back. “I didn’t raise you to be like that. Your father–”
“No, Mom, it's not who you are!” You interrupted her. You reigned your tears in and gained control of your voice. You wanted her to hear your next statements loud and clear. “Not everything is about you! And Dad can speak for himself.”
Since you came out to your parents, your mom had a hard time separating her identity from yours. She couldn’t bear the fact that you weren’t straight. To her, you were flawed, and she felt like she had done something wrong raising you. What she failed to see was that your identity had nothing to do with her. It was only about you.
“I’m not talking about this with you anymore,” she said.
You saw that one coming. Once you began talking about her image, she shut down. When it came to slander, she could dish it, but she couldn’t take it.
“Fine.” You said, and that was the end of that.
You plopped down in the chair and took a few deep breaths before speaking again.
“Dad,” you said, “are you still on the phone?”
Your dad had been silent the whole time. Not because he didn’t care, but because he knew better than to get in the middle of your and your mom's spats. He meant well, but sometimes you wish he would give his input. Confrontation wasn’t his strong suit though, so you knew it might be a while before you ever heard his side of things.
“Yeah, I’m here, kiddo.” He sounded dejected. “I’m sorry.”
He hadn’t meant for the phone call to go south.
“You don’t have to apologize for her.”
“Yeah, but I know she’ll probably never say it,” he said, sounding defeated for you.
“Yeah, you’re probably right about that.”
You talked with him for a few minutes longer before saying goodnight and ending the call. This was not the direction you expected the night to go in, but like your dad said, you should learn to expect the unexpected.
✦ ✦ ✦
Moments later, you found yourself still sitting at the kitchen table. Your mother’s words rang in your head as you tried to process everything. As you continued to think about the things she said, you felt your frustration resurface. The feeling had only intensified since then, and you began to feel red-hot anger creeping its way up your chest. It settled at the base of your neck and as a result, you felt suffocated. You couldn’t help but let out a scream at the sensation.
“Fuck!” You shouted before slamming your phone down onto the wooden surface of the table.
The sound must have startled Melissa because she appeared before you.
“You okay?” Melissa asked as she kneeled in front of you. She had a frown on her face as she tried to decipher the expression on yours.
You were embarrassed at your sudden outburst and the fact that she’d heard the conversation with your parents. You were also feeling a little helpless because your emotions were manifesting themselves and you had virtually no idea how to handle them.
You opened your mouth to speak, but all that came out was a breath you didn’t know you were holding in. You could feel Melissa running her hand along your back and that brought you down enough to muster out a reply.
“Yeah,” you said in a flat tone. You meant to be more convincing, but it didn’t quite work.
“You know, you can tell me if you’re not okay.” She said, continuing to rub your back.
You cleared your throat and shook your head as if you were trying to reset your brain to 30 minutes ago: when you were peacefully lying in your girlfriend’s arms and not having thoughts of taking your mother’s neck in your hands and–
“Hon,” Melissa said, pulling you out of your thoughts.
“Hmm,” you hummed before looking at her again.
You soon came to realize that was a big mistake. Suddenly everything was too much. Too real. How close she was to you, the look in her eyes, the hand on your back. You needed her to move, but you couldn’t vocalize that.
“What can I do?” She asked.
“Um, I don’t, I–,” You stumbled over your words.
You reached around to your back so you could grab her hand. She mistook the gesture as you seeking more comfort. She clasped her hand around yours and that gave you the push you needed to speak up.
“I don’t know, but you need to move.” You snatched your hand away as if her touch burned you.
She looked a little shocked, but she moved away as fast as her body allowed her to. Once she was gone, you realized how harsh you’d sounded and you instantly felt bad. She was just trying to help, and here you were snapping at her.
“I’m sorry. I just– I’m really hot and I can’t–” You stood up and started to frantically fan yourself.
Melissa continued to look at you. She was trying to figure out what her next move would be. She’d never seen you like this, and she wanted to handle this situation correctly. As soon as she realized that staring at you wasn’t going to help, she jumped into action.
“That’s okay. How about we start by taking this off.” She stepped closer to you before realizing she should probably warn you. She wanted to avoid your previous reaction at all costs. “I’m just gonna come closer, but I’m not gonna touch you.”
You couldn’t even focus on what she was saying because you were about two seconds away from freaking out again. You could only make out every other word, but it was enough for you to piece her sentences together. You nodded your head to show that it was okay for her to come closer.
Why the fuck am I so hot? You thought to yourself.
“I just wanna get your jacket off.” She said.
Jacket? What jacket?
As you watched her reach toward you, you looked down to see that you were wearing the hoodie Melissa let you borrow earlier. You were so scatterbrained that you didn’t realize you still had it on.
She grasped the zipper on the garment before pulling it down, causing the sleeves to fall off your shoulders. Once the item was off, you felt so much better and your thoughts started to become more clear. You sat back down and let out a sigh of relief as you leaned forward, resting your palms on your knees. You looked down at the ground in an attempt to focus your attention on something other than the anger and shame you were feeling.
“That feel any better?” Melissa inquired.
You thought about her question for a second. You felt better because you weren’t burning up anymore. However, you could still feel the remnants of ire in the pit of your chest.
“A little, but I feel like,” you paused. “Like I,” you trailed off before giving up.
Melissa reached out to gently grasp your jaw. She tilted your face upward so you could look at her. Her palm felt cool against your warm skin.
“Like what?” She looked at you intently.
“I don’t know,” you shrugged before removing your face from her hold.
It wasn’t a secret that you experienced emotions deeply. You felt more than the average person, and you were very in tune with other people. You were the definition of an empath, and it was a gift as well as a curse. You cared for others, but the weight of harboring their emotions in addition to your own was too much to handle at times.
You were also prone to burying your feelings. That’s where your difficulties with communication stemmed from. When you were hurting you kept it to yourself, and that made it harder for you to navigate situations like this. When you had a chance to express your feelings, you weren’t always sure how to convey them to others.
Melissa pulled up a chair and set it directly in front of you. To be honest, you were taken aback by the action. You fully expected her to leave you alone until you could figure out an answer to her question. As you looked at her, you saw through all the concern and found there was determination in her eyes. She wanted to figure out what was going on inside your head, and she wasn’t going to give up until she got an explanation.
“Can you tell me what you’re feeling physically?” She reached out to grab your hand, finding it hard not to show her affection. “Just one thing.”
“Um, kinda like I might… explode.” You looked toward her in hopes of receiving some form of validation, and without fail she gave it to you.
“Okay.” She nodded her head and began to stroke the back of your hand with her thumb. “Anything else?”
“My heart is beating really fast and I feel tense. Like, all over.” You took your free hand and motioned it in a circle around you.
“That doesn’t sound like a nice feeling,” she spoke softly.
To you, her tone seemed uncharacteristically gentle. It was unlike anything you’d ever heard from the redhead.
“What do you usually do when you feel like this?” Her eyes never strayed from yours.
“Nothing really.” You looked at her sheepishly. “I usually just push it away or try to focus on something else.”
The lost look in your eyes pulled at Melissa’s heartstrings. She could see the trouble you were having processing your emotions, and all she wanted to do was help you. She had an idea, but she wasn’t sure how you’d receive it. However, she knew it wouldn’t hurt to ask.
“Are you willing to try somethin’ for me, hon?” She bit her lip as she anticipated your response.
“Sure.” You were willing to try just about anything if it would make you feel better.
“Okay, give me just a sec.” She held up her index finger, then proceeded to walk out of the kitchen.
Melissa soon returned with something interesting in her hands: a baseball bat. You looked at her with curiosity as she came to stand before you.
“Come on.” She nodded her head toward the back door. “Let’s go outside for a minute.”
You followed her into the yard, where she walked you to a secluded corner. As she moved a few items around to create some space, you noticed her backyard was very homey. There was a couch decorated with pillows and blankets and it was placed near a fire pit. There was also a garden located on the opposite end.
Above you, there were string lights that were activated by the two of you stepping outside. They lit up the yard with a warm glow and you began to find comfort in the cozy atmosphere. She had a fence built well above your height that surrounded the area, and it made you feel completely safe.
When she was finished rearranging, Melissa came to stand across from you. “When I get upset, I take this and use it to do as much damage as I can.” She presented the bat to you.
You tried not to think too much into her statement, but you couldn’t help raising your eyebrows.
“I promise everything I’ve done was legal,” she said after seeing your reaction. “Well, mostly.”
“Melissa!” Your eyes widened at the thought of her committing crimes with the object.
“I’m kidding, hon,” she assuaged your fears. “I don’t have anything for you to hit, but I think the ground will do just fine.” She tapped with her foot, illustrating its firm nature.
You still felt unsure of what to do.
“You don’t have to try it if you don’t want to,” she assured you. She didn’t want to talk you into doing anything that made you feel uncomfortable. “We can always figure something else out, but I think this might help you release some of those emotions.”
If she thought it would help, what was the harm in testing out her theory?
“Okay, I’ll try.”
You reached your hands out to accept the bat from her. She handed it over, then stepped closer to the house to give you some space. You stood there for a second, those feelings of uncertainty coming back to you. You felt out of your element as you twisted the bat around.
You took a couple breaths before holding it up by the handle. Your arms lifted above you before swiftly coming down to slam the head of the bat against the ground.
Sightly alarmed by the loud crack that echoed around the space, you looked toward Melissa and let out a gasp. She was standing against the fence with arms folded across her chest.
“How’d that feel?” She looked at you expectantly.
“Good.” You nodded. “I wonder what your neighbors are gonna think.”
“Don’t worry about that.” She began to walk toward you. “If they have a problem I’ll handle it.”
You must have still looked suspicious because she spoke again.
“You just focus on letting those feelings go.” She squeezed your shoulder affectionately before taking a seat on the couch. “I’ll be right here if you need me.”
You stood there for a moment gathering your thoughts. The only thing Melissa cared about was making you feel better. She could care less about anyone else at the moment. With that in mind, you felt completely safe to express yourself however you needed to. She just wanted to be there to make sure you were safe. Your heart warmed at the thought, and your anger nearly dissipated.
Now all you could focus on was how much she cared about you and your emotional well-being. She looked after you so intently. No one had ever taken the time to truly listen to you and help you combat your insufferable burdens. That thought settled deep within you causing a twinge to flutter through your chest. The ache was so profound you felt it in every fiber of your being.
You closed your eyes and took another deep breath before smashing the bat into the grass for the second time. You repeated the action until you began to lose count of how many times you’d struck the ground.
All you could think about were the feelings your mom had brought up and the pain associated with them. When you couldn’t think about that anymore, you thought about every time you wanted to express an emotion, but couldn’t. When you’d exhausted that thought, you just focused on how free you felt at the moment. With each hit, you could feel yourself letting go of the pain you’d held onto for so long.
Then, something broke within you. You slammed the ground one last time, your body sagging forward from the force. You felt your chest heave as a guttural sound escaped your throat, and you let out a final breath in its wake.
The metallic bat dropped to the ground with a clang and you used every last bit of your strength to stand up straight. You filled your lungs with air and on the exhale, you felt a sob bubble in your throat. Your hands flew to your mouth to muffle the sound, but it was too late. You had already released an echoing wail into the open. Surrendering every part of the anguish, you let the sobs wrack your body. It was getting harder to breathe, but you didn’t care, really.
“Y/N.” She was gentle as not to startle you.
Upon opening your eyes, you were met with a worried look. She was maintaining her distance just in case you were feeling overwhelmed, but by the look in her eyes, you could see that she just wanted to comfort you. You pulled her closer and once the gap was closed, she brought her hands up to wipe your eyes. She gently held your face in her palms as you continued to weep.
“You didn’t mention that I would cry my eyes out,” you joked. It was an attempt to lighten the mood, but your delivery was pathetic. You were all choked up, trying your best to talk through broken sobs. “A warning would have been nice.”
“Oh, sweetheart,” Melissa said in a hushed tone. It almost sounded like she was fighting back her own tears. But you knew she hadn’t gone that soft on you— yet.
You were pulled into a hug, her arms wrapping firmly around your torso. You hugged back, arms hanging loosely around her neck, then brought your head down to rest on her shoulder. She pulled you closer before placing a kiss on your forehead. The action was so delicate that it caused a surge of fresh tears to fill your eyes.
Melissa could feel your chest quavering with each breath you took, so she gave you some encouragement. “Let it out, hon.”
You shook your head and released a whimper instead. You’d cried enough and there was no need to do it all over her. However, you should have known that wasn’t going to satisfy her. Your pain didn’t serve you any purpose, and she refused to let it weigh you down.
“Come on, love.” She murmured into your ear, voice so velvety you couldn’t help but give in. “There you go,” she praised as your cries got heavier.
You collapsed into her arms and let your body go slack against hers. She staggered backward, not expecting you to fall into her like that, but regained her footing and held you steady.
“I’m here, okay? I’ve got you.”
For a moment, all you could focus on was her. She rubbed large circles across your back and you nestled closer into the curve of her neck. Her scent invaded your senses; something spicy, sweet, and clothed in warmth. You could feel yourself calming down with each breath you took.
“That’s it. Just breathe.” She instructed.
She began to sway your body from side to side. The motion was so soothing that you felt your eyelids getting heavy. If she kept it up, you were sure you’d fall asleep. You willed yourself to stay awake so you could relish in the safety she was providing.
“You doing okay?” She asked after she was sure your sobs had ceased.
“Mhmm,” you hummed.
It wasn’t the best response, but Melissa took your even breaths and lack of tears as a sign that you had settled down.
She began to unwrap her arms from around you, but you weren’t ready. You held on tighter, which was physically impossible considering you were already as close as you could get.
She held you a little longer before deciding to ask for permission this time. “Is it okay if I let go?”
She hadn’t given you any indication that she was leaving, but a piece of you was afraid that you might not find that level of comfort again.
“I’m not going anywhere,” she said, sensing your hesitation. “I just wanna get you back inside.”
You obliged and she maintained her proximity by holding you by the waist. The gesture was tender and affectionate, and she kept her word leaving no room for doubts in your mind.
✦ ✦ ✦
“You gonna be okay by yourself for a second?” Melissa asked as you sat in the living room.
“I’ll be okay,” you rasped.
“Okay, sit tight,” Melissa said before venturing off.
You were grateful for her tenderness, and it was the first time you were seeing this side of her. Of course, she was always gentle with you, but something was different tonight. She was being so patient and loving—it made your heart feel so full.
She returned with a glass of water and took a seat next to you. You gladly accepted the beverage and found yourself nearly downing it in one gulp. The cool liquid felt nice on your sore throat. You set the cup down on the coffee table and let out a deep sigh. A familiar sting pricked your eyes, but you refused to do any more of that right now.
You could see Melissa watching you out of the corner of your eye. She was trying to be discreet, but even if you couldn’t see her, you’d be able to feel the intensity of her stare. You weren’t sure what she was trying to communicate to you, so you redirected your gaze.
She smiled at you, her lips gently curling, as she brought a hand over to rest on your thigh. You placed your hand over hers and began to play with her fingers. She had a singular ring on the middle one and you twisted it around to distract yourself.
She pulled you out of your head by locking your fingers together. You looked back up at her and she opened her mouth to speak before closing it again. Her eyebrows were knit together and she had a pensive look on her face. She looked like she was going through a mental tug-of-war.
You watched as she dropped your hand and changed her position so she was leaning against the arm rest. She waved her hand, motioning for you to come join her. You took your place in her arms and laid on top of her, tucking your head under her chin and settling in. You took a hand and rested it on her stomach, feeling it move up and down with each breath she took.
You closed your eyes as she placed a kiss to the crown of your head. She repeated the action before moving her lips lower and doing the same near your hairline. She slipped her hand underneath the fabric of your shirt and began to lightly trace her nails against your back. That had to be one of your favorite sensations, and you could feel yourself melting deeper into her touch. She was almost lulling you into a trance.
“Your mom seemed pretty upset earlier, hm?” She asked, switching the pattern she was making on your back.
Melissa knew what she was doing. She wanted to get you as relaxed as possible so that you could talk about the events that led to this moment. She knew it would be hard for you to get worked up if she was holding you close, giving you kisses, and rubbing your back. It was the gentlest form of persuasion.
“Yeah.” Your voice cracked as your thoughts wandered back to the conversation. You cleared your throat before continuing, “I guess you could say so.”
Not missing the hitch in your voice, she encouraged you to take a deep breath. Once she was pleased with your effort, she formulated her next response.
“We don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to.” She didn’t want to upset you again.
“No, it’s okay.” You assured her. “I just don’t understand.”
Melissa waited for you to elaborate, but when you didn’t, she prompted you. “You don’t understand what, babe?” She asked, moving back a couple of inches so she could look at you properly.
“I’ve spent the majority of my life–” A lump made its way up your throat. You swallowed it down, determined not to let your emotions get the better of you. “I’ve spent the majority of my life trying to be perfect for her. I’ve done absolutely everything I could to please her.”
Melissa nodded her head in understanding as you peered up at her.
“I made good grades in school and I did all the extracurriculars. I went to college, navigated everything the way she advised me to. I sacrificed so much of my happiness to make sure she was content. It worked for a long time, you know? She was happy.”
“And because of that you were happy,” Melissa stated.
She knew how you were. People pleasing was part of your character. It was hard for you to grasp the idea that you wouldn’t be able to satisfy everyone. No matter what, there would always be someone who didn’t agree with you.
You nodded, taking a breath before continuing, “That all changed when I came out to her though. I mean, I knew what her reaction would be, but I wanted to take some of my power back from her. I had quite literally burnt myself out trying to do right by her.” You took a beat before saying, “I just felt like I wasn’t my own person anymore and that kind of scared me.”
Melissa moved a hand up to your cheek, as she continued to look at you. Her thumb smoothed across the side of your face and your eyes fell closed at the feeling. You hadn’t even noticed the lone tear escaping your eye until she swiped it away.
“So, I told her.” You laughed wryly. “I wasn’t even sure what my labels were at the time. I’m honestly still not, but I just knew that I wasn’t straight. I just felt so compelled to let her know that she didn’t have a say in every aspect of my life.”
“I’m proud of you for making that decision. That must have been really hard.” Melissa empathized with you.
Her sage eyes were glassy as she listened to you tell your story. Hearing about your relationship with your mother allowed her to gain a deeper understanding of your habits. She’d wondered why you were such a perfectionist, why you cared so much about what people thought of you, why it was hard for you to say no sometimes.
“Oh, it was a nightmare.” You looked off to the side as you recounted the day. “I told her right before I went off to college. I told my dad too. She didn’t speak to me for months. I think that’s part of the reason why me and my dad got so close.”
“How did your dad take it?” Melissa asked.
“Better than her. He wasn’t jumping for joy, but he was respectful of me. He understands that it’s not up to him to pick my life partner.” You looked back at her before saying, “That’s all I asked of them. To respect me. He just happened to be the one who could comply with my wishes.”
“There’s always that one person,” Melissa sighs. She didn’t know your mom personally, so she wouldn’t bash her. Not to your face at least. Instead, she opted to give you a piece of wisdom. “You can’t please everyone, hon.”
“I know.” You sighed, matching her tone. “It just doesn’t make sense to me. My dad can do it, so why can’t she?”
You looked at Melissa with sorrowful eyes. You could feel your resolve starting to crumble and that ache in your chest returned. “Why can’t she just love me how I am?”
You were directing the question at her but unfortunately, she didn’t have an explanation. She tried to compose an answer, but her words wouldn’t come. The way you looked at her made her brain lapse. She tried to think of something quickly because she couldn’t take the site of that sullen look. However, she didn’t have anything to say, and that was rare. Her lack of words generated a response from you, and it wasn’t one she was expecting.
“No matter how hard I try, nothing I do will ever be enough for her.” Your lips crumpled as the words left your mouth. “Maybe there’s something wrong with me.”
“Oh, honey. Come here.” She closed the small space between you by pulling you into her chest.
You cried, but it was mild in comparison to your previous round of tears. “I just don’t get it.”
“I don’t get it either,” she said, resuming her gentle back scratches, “but let me tell you something.” She pulled your chin up so you were level with her eyes. “There is absolutely nothing wrong with you.”
“There must be. Why else would she–”
“You are passionate, hardworking, and so damn smart. You always make me smile, and you are a joy to be around.” Melissa said with conviction.
“You are perfect just the way you are. Do you hear me? When you began to shy away from her words, she pulled your attention back to her. “I’m not sure what your mother sees when she looks at you, but I see a wonderful person who is kind and caring. You have a beautiful personality and a heart that is too pure for this world.”
“You mean it?”
“Yes, hon. Why would I say that if I didn’t mean it?”
You could only shrug at her question.
“No, don’t give me that. Talk to me,” she urged.
You could tell she genuinely wanted to hear your thoughts because she had that determined look on her face again. How could you possibly say no to that?
“I know you mean it. It’s not that.”
“What is it, then?”
“I don’t get to feel validated very often,” you disclosed. “So it’s just nice to hear those words.”
“I meant every single thing.” She punctuated her words with a nod.
“I know, Lissa. Thank you.” You smiled at her. “For everything you’ve done for me tonight.”
You leaned forward to wrap her in a hug one last time. You hoped you could convey every ounce of thanks into the embrace. She’d done more for you in a few hours than you could have ever asked.
“You’re welcome. But you don’t need to thank me. It’s what I’m here for.” She hugged you back with just as much enthusiasm, if not more. “I’ll always be here to listen to you and validate you anytime you need it.”
You pulled back from the hug just enough to see her face, and you leaned in to kiss her lips. It was delicate and sweet, but full of passion. You tangled your hand into auburn locks so you could keep her near as you exchanged a few more pecks. She pulled away and pressed a final kiss to your temple.
You ended the day the same way you started it: wrapped up on the couch enjoying each other’s presence. In that moment, you realized you’d found something special with her. In the midst of chaos, she had the ability to bring you back to center. She put things into perspective, and helped you see the bigger picture.
Sure, you wanted your mom to come around, but you couldn’t make her. That was something she would have to do on her own timing—you couldn’t force it upon her. Whether or not she would come to accept you was a mystery. However, what you did know was that Melissa would always be in your corner and that was more than enough for you.
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you're just like her
Part One of the Deadly Desire AU
Pairing - sugarmommy!Villanelle x morallycorrupt!Reader
18+ :mentions of killing, smut; oral (r!receiving), fingering, choking, slight roughness and d/s vibes but not really
Word Count - 1860
A/N - this entire series is honestly just an excuse to write villanelle my beloved and a kind of darkfic with a lot of smut and some murder, this smut is pretty mild to some of the stuff i have planned heheheh
You knew what Villanelle was, what she did, she’d told you so herself when she’d come back to where she’d left you in her Paris apartment with a small cut against her cheekbone. She was surprised at your indifference, the unwavering lukewarm glint in your eyes when she uttered the words.
I’m an assassin, I kill for money - and I’m good at it.
She expected a widening of your eyes, a furrow of your brows, a downturn of your lips into a disapproving frown. She thought perhaps you’d be disgusted, backing away from her in fear, repulsed at the things she’s done. She was more than prepared to rectify the situation when you’d push her away, looking at her how so many others do - like she’s a monster.
But instead her own breath hitched in her throat at the soft touch of your fingertips against her cheek, a tentative stroke across the forming bruise. She became more aware in that moment of the icy glaze always present over your eyes, she’d seen it before but it seemed more prominent just then, where she expected a flaming emotion she was met with nothing. Just an indifferent stare.
“You should put some ice on that.” You muttered, taking in the greyish colour deepening on her skin.
“That’s it? You’re not going to say anything?” She responded as you pulled your hand from her face.
“What am I supposed to say?” You returned, watching as she stepped over to the fridge from the sofa to grab a bag of peas from the freezer and lifted it to her face. She loosely perched on the stool beside the kitchen counter, eyes not leaving your face as she tried to read you.
“I don’t know. That you think I’m evil - that you’re horrified by what I do. Are you not scared?”
You gave her a shrug and a shake of your head and you thought, maybe, you should feel some sort of fear or repulsion but you couldn’t find it in you.
“So how do you feel about it?” She prodded, dropping the peas down onto the counter with a clatter, just so intrigued at this new side of you she was discovering.
“I don’t really feel anything about it, darling.” You shrugged, leaning back in your seat as she kicked her shoes off with a smirk. “As long as you don’t kill me, I don’t see why I should care - you’re not planning to kill me are you?”
She huffed a laugh at that, taking her seat beside you with that smug grin she wears so well. “No.”
“Then carry on - it’s what pays for all the things I like after all.” You smiled at her, referring to the clothes she buys you, the expensive restaurant trips and holidays she’s taken you on.
“Mm, you are so pretty when you’re spoiled.” She mused, mindlessly running her hand over your thigh.
“Are you gonna get this dry cleaned?” You asked, pulling at the collar of her white shirt that had been dotted with a drop of blood - most likely someone else's.
“I can just buy a new one.” She smirked, always ready to flaunt her wealth to you. She watched as you undid it button by button until you gazed at her bra clad chest, letting you push it past her shoulders before she tugged it off to discard somewhere on the ground.
It was animalistic the way she pounced on you, hands holding onto your face as she crashed her lips to yours. Her toned body flexed under your touch when she moved to straddle your legs, pushing you onto your back, sliding her hands up your bare thighs. Her firm touch always set your skin alight, squeezing the flesh of your upper thighs with her bruising kiss before inching her hands further upwards, the shirt you were wearing bunching up around your chest.
She left a trail of kisses over your stomach, downwards until she pressed one to your clothed pussy, feeling the heat from you, smelling your arousal. She wasted no time in pulling the underwear from your body, wrapping her arms around your legs to pull you closer and staring into your eyes as she let a trail of spit fall from her lips onto your already glistening slit.
She always ate you out as though you were the best meal she could ever consume, tongue expertly lapping through your folds, flicking over your clit whilst her hands dug into the flesh of your thighs, nails leaving crescents behind and maybe a bruise or two if she’s lucky.
You aimlessly grabbed at the sofa for something to hold on to, using your other hand to palm at your breast, pulling your nipple between your fingertips. She hollowed out her cheeks with a harsh suck against you making you moan, your hips tried to buck over her tongue but her strong hold kept you pinned down.
She peered up at you through her lashes, the way your body was gasping for breath, head thrown back with your eyes scrunched closed. You could feel her smirk against you before she pulled away, you weren’t surprised, she always was a tease. She likes to see you squirm, desperation in your eyes as you look at her, aching for her to fuck you.
She stood back up, lips shining with your juices as she cockily looked at you watching her undress, she knows how hot she is, she basks in your stares. She looked ethereal standing before you in just her underwear, an expensive, lacey set of lingerie; the black material a stark contrast to her smooth, milky skin.
“Take that off.” She spoke, gesturing to your t-shirt. You did as she said, tossing it aside before yelping slightly when she suddenly lifted you into her arms, easily picking you up. Your legs wrapped around her waist, your hands held onto the sculpted biceps she worked so hard on; you kissed over her neck until she threw you down onto her bed, both of you laughing lightly at the way you bounced.
Her sheets, of course, were expensive - ‘Liliana Rizzari’ silk throw beneath your naked body.
Villanelle crawled up your body, her blonde hair tickled your skin as she kissed you; her lips moved quickly with yours, her tongue battled with yours, licking into your mouth. She pulled away from you with a tug at your bottom lip before dark eyes locked with yours.
“Make me cum and I’ll take you out to dinner tonight.” She rasped, Russian accent coating her words. “Do a good job and I might get you those shoes you want too; you’ve been so good already, pretty girl. I’ve seen a whole new side of you.”
You could only nod in response, letting her guide your hand downwards until your fingers toyed with the waistband of her underwear. You felt how wet she was already, whether she admitted it or not, she got so wet for you - just seeing you wanting her, hearing the sounds she can pull from you, made her ache.
She bit into your collarbone with a sigh when you pushed your fingers into her, they slid into her easily with how dripping she already was. You’d learnt how to perfectly curl your digits in a way that hit her in just the right way, her hips twitched at the movement, lips sucking at your neck with harsh bites scattered over your skin.
The pad of your thumb rubbed over her swollen clit and the sound of her choked moan took you by surprise; she always made sure to stay as quiet as possible but after today she didn’t feel the need to. You were like her, you had that cold and empty look in your eyes - she’d found a new comfort in you she hadn’t expected, you’d earned the right to hear the way you made her feel.
She kissed over the column of your throat as your fingers pumped into her, curling inside her, pulling out and pushing back in with a lewd sound of her arousal. Her lips dragged over your skin in a perfect sequence, her breath was hot against your chest when her tongue swirled over your nipple and pulled away with a tug between her teeth.
“Fuck.” She sighed against you with a moan. “Look at me when you make me cum, pretty girl.” She added, taking your chin between her thumb and forefinger, positioning it so your eyes could lock with hers. She kept them trained on yours as she climaxed, clenching around your fingers with a grunt of pleasure, lips falling open with heavy breath. The sight was glorious, you couldn’t help but squeeze your legs together beneath her.
She dug her fingers into your wrist, yanking your hand away from her. She eyed the shining wetness along them, as she pushed them towards your mouth.
“Clean it up.”
You did as you were told, sucking your fingers with a hum at her sweet taste, swirling your tongue over them until they were clean.
She gave no warning before her long fingers thrust into your dripping pussy, she smirked cocklily at the way your eyes widened and your teeth clamped down into your lip at the sudden intrusion. Her fingers were drenched straight away, slipping into you with a curl she knew would make you moan the way you did.
She sat up on her knees to watch you, breasts slightly bouncing with her rough movements, nails digging into the mattress. Her free hand stroked up your torso until her svelte fingers wrapped around your neck, pushing onto your throat in a way that had your eyes rolling back in your head. She squeezed in a controlled way, limiting your oxygen and letting it flow again.
With a circle drawn over your clit with her thumb you were cumming over her fingers, your hips bucked upwards, your back arched and your chest rose and fell in gasps of breath. Villanelle didn’t wait for you to recover before she forced her fingers past your lips, fucking them into your mouth as you cleaned yourself off her long digits.
She pulled them away with a string of saliva in tow once she was satisfied, flopping beside you on the bed, pulling a sheet over you both. The room was brightly lit from the sun through the large windows across from you, a breeze floating in through the net curtains. It gave perfect visibility to your naked upper half that she left uncovered, her own body still in her bra and underwear as she leant her head on her hand and danced her fingers over your bare skin.
“Come with me on my next trip.”
“Really?” You asked in surprise. Usually she left and came to you in England, or she flew you out to wherever she wanted to go - she’d even started to let you stay in her Paris apartment until she came back. But she’d never even suggested inviting you on one of her work trips.
“Yes.” She nodded nonchalantly. “I think you’d enjoy it.”
“Where’s your next job?”
“Italy.”
#villanelle x reader#killing eve#killing eve fanfic#villanelle astankova#oxana vorontsova#villanelle x you#beefy villanelle#villanelle astankova x reader#villanelle x fem!reader
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So I Will Not Ask Where You Came From - Villanelle Imagine [Killing Eve]
Title: So I Will Not Ask Where You Came From
Pairing: Villanelle X Reader
Based On: Like Real People Do
Word Count: 655 words
Warning(s): none that I can tell
Summary: Like any other couple, Villanelle and (Y/n) had an arrangement that worked for them. Villanelle did her work and (Y/n) gave her a place to eat, shower, and relax. (Y/n) didn't ask any questions and Villanelle offered them attention and affection. A perfectly balanced relationship.
Author's Note: God... I am so bi.
HOZIER [2014] WRITING CHALLENGE MASTERLIST
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I was woken up by the door opening and closing.
I rolled over and looked at the clock before just closing my eyes again. It was late, I was tired, and I knew who it was.
My assumptions were confirmed when the weight on the mattress shifted. I felt an arm wrap around my torso and lips press to the skin of my jaw.
"I can tell that you're awake," Villanelle muttered into my ear.
I rolled onto my back, forcing her to lean back enough to make room. "How was your trip?"
Trip.
That's what I called them.
Those work trips that she went on that always conveniently happened just after she got a new postcard from her dad. I wasn't blind. Our brains are trained to see patterns and that was one of the most obvious patterns I had ever seen.
"Good, good," she nodded. "Quick."
I grinned. "Good."
When I first noticed the pattern, I assumed that she was cheating on me. But once I caught sight of the writing on a few of the postcards, I knew it was something different.
I didn't understand fully. I don't think I ever would.
Mostly because I didn't want to know.
It was so much easier to turn a blind eye to it all. It was so much easier to deal with her coming back to me late at night and never questioning where she had been.
She seemed happier with that arrangement too.
What I had was enough for me to hold onto this pretty little world that I had. The affection and company were enough for me. They call them rose-colored glasses for a reason.
I had spent a long time feeling completely isolated from everyone around me. I felt like I was a ghost. I didn't have anything solid to hold onto. I was just... there.
But with Villanelle, I didn't feel like that. I actually felt like I was wanted somewhere. By someone.
I don't know why she stayed with me.
I don't know what I offered her that was enough for her to keep coming back.
I stopped thinking about stuff like that after a while. I had asked her once, but I didn't get a straight answer. I saw no point in dwelling on questions that I wouldn't get answers to. Especially when I was happy. Why try to ruin a good thing?
Villanelle leaned down and pressed a kiss to my lips. I hummed as I kissed her back.
I pulled away a few moments later to look up at her. I caught sight of a cut on her cheek. I furrowed my eyebrows before reaching up to touch her face. I barely touched the skin under the wound.
"Are you okay?"
She nodded. "It's nothing."
"You're hurt-"
"It's nothing," she repeated. She looked at the clock. "You should get back to bed. You are very cranky in the morning when you don't sleep enough."
"Fuck you," I chuckled, playfully hitting her arm.
She smirked at me. "In the morning."
A stunned scoff escaped my lips.
She moved to lie down next to me. I looked at her, watching her shrug with that smirk remaining stuck to her face.
I rolled over to face her.
"Sleep," she instructed.
I reached out and pulled her back over to me. She let me wrap my arms around her and hide my face in her neck.
She let out a quiet sigh as she wrapped her arms around me again.
These were the moments when I knew my blindness was worth it. I had no care for what she did outside of my door. All I cared about was that she came back to me.
All I wanted was this feeling.
All I needed was her.
I would like to believe that she needed me to.
I would like to believe that's why she didn't mind me never asking questions.
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#villanelle imagine#villanelle x reader#villanelle fanfiction#killing eve fanfiction#killing eve x reader#killing eve imagine#imagine#fanfiction#x reader
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I saw you tagged killing eve in the 'worst series finale' poll - how *does* it end? I watched the first two seasons and then lost interest. (also I hope you're having a good day!)
first of all thank you i am and i hope you are too!!
but alright here we go ⚠️⚠️ MAJOR SPOILER WARNING MAJOR SPOILER WARNING ⚠️⚠️ for anyone who does want to watch for themselves bc tbh the first few seasons are excellent but i honestly don't know if i can recommend them anymore in good faith after knowing where it all ends up
so okay. you know how the whole crux of the show is this intense psychosexual relationship between eve and villanelle. and how there's an obvious romantic tension between them. well from what i remember (cause it's been a while) they started actually working together in season 3, but then because they realized they make each other worse they had this whole dramatic moment where they walked away from each other on a bridge and weren't supposed to look back but of course they both did turn around at the last second and then the season ends.
flash forward to season 4 and you can tell time has passed and they aren't working together and it's implied there was some big falling out and we have no idea what it is. eve is just annoyed and done with villanelle and villanelle is like trying to prove she's not a bad person and goes to church and stuff and actually that plot was extremely hilarious and she imagined up a drag jesus version of herself for advice and they were acting like exes and it was playing into the whole comedic surrealism aspect of the show really well. but after the first few episodes it just kinda fell apart like i just remember feeling lost all season and not understanding where we were going and this is definitely due to the changing showrunners (they should have just kept pwb for the whole thing!!!!) but they kept adding new characters out of nowhere, some of which were really well done but then we were following plots that were thrown in randomly and it was just a bit of a mess.
but eventually by the LITERAL SERIES FINALE eve and villanelle have both given in to the fact that they enjoy being in each other's company as the worst versions of themselves (which is honestly such a fun direction to go that i really enjoyed especially for a sapphic pairing). and after they've been apart for a vast majority of the season finally they have this good banter going and it's all domestic and then there's a scene where they're walking down an empty road together and this romantic music comes in. and they finally literally actually have The Moment. like they had kissed before in the previous season but not in an explicitly romantic way, they were physically fighting each other on a public bus and eve kissed villanelle to throw her off before headbutting her (SO GRIDDLEHARK OF THEM THAT SCENE IS ACTUALLY SO GOOD) anyways. villanelle kisses eve on the cheek and then eve stares at her and grabs her and they make out for a solid FORTY-FIVE SECONDS. it was so intense and they're kissing as they're stumbling down the road and they run back to the camper van they were travelling in and it's for sure implied that they have sex in there. so everyone was like oh my fucking god they actually did it. like this is where the show was always going, it's a whole I Can Make You Worse thing where both people were like "fuck it i'll be worse then" and gave in to the tension that had been building for years not just within the plot but FOR VIEWERS SINCE 2018.
so i don't exactly remember what happens next but the whole season they've been trying to kill The Twelve which was the assassin group in charge of villanelle, and we find out carolyn was a founding member actually, and i will be honest that plot was always confusing to me but iirc she wasn't with them anymore. so eve and villanelle infiltrate this wedding party boat that's a cover for a meeting of The Twelve (this is like the last 10 minutes of the show now) and they kiss again and there's a scene where it's like they're indirectly talking to each other through the wedding speech that eve somehow ends up giving and that's so romantic too and then villanelle slinks off, finds the meeting, and murders everyone. so yay the protagonists are together finally and villanelle killed her abusers and they are finally in happy gay love. then out of fucking nowhere as they're standing outside on the boat villanelle starts to get shot at. (this is literally the last five minutes of the entire show now) and she falls into the river or maybe jumps in to get away i don't remember and she's still getting shot and eve is swimming to try to catch her. and it's all this dramatic slow-mo beautifully shot stuff that's like horrible in context cause the blood is blooming in the water and eve can't reach villanelle and they do a whole creation of adam hand reach before villanelle slips into the depths.
so literally eve had just thrown away any chance at a normal life to embrace the side of her that loves violence and loves villanelle so they could spend the rest of their life together and that was such a slay. and then she loses villanelle which like, if they wanted a tragic ending it would have been kinder to kill them both, it's so much fucking worse to leave eve spending the rest of her life mourning the one person who understood her and let her give in to her carnal desires. and it is directly after letting the two queer characters finally achieve happiness that one of them is killed off which is the DEFINITION of the bury your gays/dead lesbian syndrome tropes, there have been literal academic papers written on how the phenomenon is like a punishment for queer joy etc etc. this shit has been in the discourse for decades and they fell dead center into the trope which is just so disappointing because at the start ke was such a unique story and one of the first mainstream shows that embraced morally gray queer characters in a way that wasn't homophobic.
oh! and guess who shot villanelle? carolyn!!!! and it was still NEVER CLEAR WHY! she worked for MI6 now so it being in revenge of The Twelve didn't really add up, some people thought she wanted to kill villanelle as like a prize for MI6, it was kind of implied that konstantin told her in this note he spent his last breaths writing (yeah he also died which was the saddest tbh) that villanelle had killed carolyn's son kenny (this was a major plot point of season 3 and carolyn was trying to get revenge, he fell off a building under mysterious circumstances) but that made no sense because it was implied to be konstantin since he was on the roof with kenny and also villanelle was literally in fucking spain or something the episode when it happened.
like i get it. this is a tragic show. people die every episode. but from a writing standpoint it makes absolutely zero fucking sense to kill off one of the two main characters of your show, in the last five minutes of the show, after finally cashing in on your flagship queer romance between them, and leaving the motivation for killing her completely ambiguous.
anyways i'm so sorry that ended up this long jesus christ but tldr: killing eve ends in the worst bury your gays i have ever seen after a season that didn't even have good plot or pacing
#i. really did not think i was going to write an essay here but apparently a year later i still have lingering feelings over this lol#thank you so much for the ask though i love a chance to rant and this was so fun haha#killing eve spoilers#killing eve#ke#ke spoilers#not tlt#ask#OH AND I DON'T THINK WE EVER FOUND OUT EXACTLY WHAT HAPPENED WITH THEM BETWEEN THE SEASONS EITHER?? maybe i just forgot though
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The wind howls outside their home, making the walls creak with its force. Rain patters harshly against the windows. The storm rolled in this morning, and it would keep going all weekend, the weather reports said.
They’re watching a movie. Villanelle is curled up under a blanket, feet on Eve’s lap, poking her arm. Storms make her anxious, Eve knows this, so she’s been watching her from the corner of her eye all evening since the wind picked up.
Villanelle’s feet leave Eve’s lap, and she crawls over to Eve instead, settling against her side, still wrapped in the blanket. She rests on Eve’s shoulder, and Eve gets a feeling.
“Hey, you,” she smiles softly, laying an arm around Villanelle. “Are you feeling little, hm?”
Villanelle, clearly feeling small, shakes her head. “No.”
“No? Evening TV time is when you want to sit in the corner by yourself,” Eve points out, chuckling. “But now you come snuggling up to me.”
“Maybe just wanted snuggles,” Villanelle tries to argue, but the clumsiness of her voice betrays her.
“Mmh, maybe,” Eve smiles. “Mommy gives the best snuggles, doesn’t she?”
“Mmh,” Villanelle makes a frustrated, whiny sound and rubs her face on Eve’s shoulder. “Big.”
“You’re awfully whiny and snuggly for a big girl,” Eve teases. Then she softens, lowering her voice to that familiar, soothing tone. “It’s okay if you’re not big tonight. I’m always happy to have my little Oksana around, you know that.”
Oksana is quiet for a while, battling with herself. Then she makes another soft, frustrated noise and manoeuvres herself into Eve’s lap. Eve lets out a quiet oh and welcomes Oksana into her embrace. She adjusts the blanket around Oksana, cocooning the little girl to her chest. Eve rubs Oksana’s back and kisses the top of her head.
“My baby,” she murmurs into Oksana’s hair. “Everything’s okay. Is the weather bothering you, hm?”
“Loud,” Oksana says around her thumb.
“Mmh, I know …” Eve sighs. “Do you want to go night-night already?”
“Nuh-uh,” Oksana shakes her head. It’s early, even for her. And besides, her mommy is just so warm and it’s so comfortable to sit on her lap. “Not yet.”
“Mkay,” Eve hums. “Just sit with mommy then, yeah? Warm and cosy. Listen to mommy instead of the weather.”
Oksana nods. She rests her cheek on Eve’s breast, her hand curling around Eve’s shirt. She listens to the muffled sound of Eve’s heart, feels and hears her calm breaths.
#sometimes she won't admit that she's feeling little even though it's Very Obvious :')#c. eve#c. oksana#eve and oksana#storm's writing tag
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how do the ros kiss?
🥺(😏)
+ where they like to kiss
Dante kisses like he’s burning and he wants to spread the flame. A mess of teeth and hands and slow drags of lips against lips, a fever of neediness. Like tomorrow won't come and now has a sliver of possibility of lasting forever. Dante has no preference over where's or how's as long as attraction consumes the moment—though, in a very unconscious way, he seems fixated on the curve where shoulder meets neck.
Lilith kisses with glossy lips. It's a deliberate and slow game for her— Lilith kisses with measured expertise, a push and pull between her and her partner, a declaration of passion and desire that transcends the physical barrier of lips and tongues. She especially enjoys pressing kisses against inner wrists, feeling the pulse skyrocket, and goosebumps overtake the flesh due to the temperature change. Lilith is adaptable, she likes to be the one giving pleasure and not the other way around. She loves affection in any way that her partner desires to give it.
Josh kisses like it's a dream he refuses to wake up from, like he wants to remember each moment in perfect detail. It's a dance that's a long time coming, full of romantic ideas of perfect butterflies, sunsets, and butterfly-filled stomachs. Waking up from that dream is just as strangely refreshing. A full-of-warmth wonder. Flawed in its nature— short clicking of teeth and pauses to laugh awkwardly. Josh feels just as awkward when he kisses his partner's forehead just the way he likes to, though that quickly melts to bliss if they return the gesture against his neck.
Villanelle kisses like it's an old, familiar routine, like she's done it a million times and expects to do it a million more. It's a thing she doesn't want to rush—she doesn't want it to end—Villanelle kisses like she's spellbound, savoring the moment, sampling the tastes of your mouth, nibbling your lips playfully. She loves giving and receiving kisses on the cheek, like wrapping a ribbon around an already beautiful gift.
Victor kisses like he's indulging in a forbidden and unexpected fruit, like it's mind-consuming and all-consuming, like he can't ever get enough. Greedy and scorching in nature, Victor kisses like it's a last chance and means to make it worth his time. Turning kissing into normalcy would reveal to Victor's partners that he secretly enjoys turning everything into a routine, that he always kisses their temple— and down— their jaw— down— and the side of their neck.
Aliyah kisses like it's a war. If she doesn't feel too emotionally attracted to that person, at least. It's more an act of domination than one of lust and affection, more a means to establish her power over someone. In the rare situation that Aliyah does manage to survive a breach in her walls, kissing stops being a matter of winning and losing, only to turn into a personal thing. Aliyah's kisses turn lazy, a press of lips, chastely sharing warmth. If she were to be asked, she would deny having a favorite spot to be kissed—only to grin and boldly guide her partner's lips to her earlobe. In return, she enjoys placing absentminded kisses on the top of her partner's head.
Nathan kisses like it's a cataclysm, like it's been building up—edging—for ages. A clock's ticking and ticking gets faster until the bomb blows up and tears everything apart. Nathan likes biting, being scratched, pulling on hair, and leaving hickeys to tease in the aftermath. There's no point to passion without the hints of pain— there's no point to desire if it doesn't hurt. Nathan kisses with arrogance, the knowledge that he's good and that his partner can't get enough. He especially likes kissing his partner's inner thigh— but settles on kissing their hands and cheeks when in public. In return, he wants kisses—being bitten—on the neck and shoulders.
Eden kisses like it's an afterthought, casually and slowly. It's sudden, unexpected most of the time, pupils flickering down and lips meeting. Eden kisses her partners when she's feeling bored, because lips against hers are exactly the excitement she needs, the slight spice to liven up her dull day, all of it melting in her tongue like her melting common reason. She particularly likes the brief moments of tenderness afterward, foreheads pressed together, breathing in the tranquility. When it comes to being kissed, she wants them on the inside of her palm and on her temples.
#the deal if#the deal#inferno#ask#ros#i love scenarios btw#dante#lilith#josh#villanelle#victor#nathan#eden#scenario
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Fuck Killing Eve for saying that Villanelle and Eve couldn't have handled domesticity and a life together. All Villanelle wanted was to smell her skin. To hear the boring details of her day. To watch movies with her and hold her stupid hand. To kiss her cheek and steal camper vans and eat curly fries and just LOVE her. Fuck them for saying that couldn't exist because it was the realest thing about that show and they just bulldozed it like it was nothing
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Villaneve: The Road Kiss
I, like many others, have probably replayed that kiss more times than anyone is willing to admit. But I can’t watch the whole thing from beginning to end without pausing to replay one of the many mini moments that make up this iconic scene.
Currently, I’m obsessing over the ten seconds prior to the cheek kiss, the way Eve seems so focused on their mission while Villanelle is working up the courage to kiss her.
Other times it’s V’s face as she waits for Eve’s reaction. Or Eve’s smile as she catches up to V and reaches for her.
A couple of days ago, it was the way Eve brushed V’s hair away from her face. Then, it was the mutual smile they shared right before going in again for a smooch full of giggles.
Before that, the walking-while-kissing got most of my attention, from the way they slightly stumbled while remaining lip-locked, to the shear intensity, passion and focus of the kiss. I hadn’t noticed Eve grab V’s ass until someone pointed it out. But I did catch the sweet peck on the lips they gave each other afterwards.
There are so many other micro moments as well. The ass slaps. All the pauses. All the looks. All the ways they move their hands. All the ways they move their mouths.
In the end, the one thing I absolutely love about the road kiss is how Eve and Villanelle’s happiness emanates beyond the small screen and fills me with pure joy. It's like getting a hit of serotonin with each viewing. That is truly the magic of Sandra and Jodie’s amazing chemistry.
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my 8 year old cousin saw my lockscreen (Villanelle kissing Eves cheek) and asked "is that her mom?" in conclusion i think i will simply pass away now
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𝐕𝐈𝐋𝐋𝐀𝐍𝐄𝐋𝐋𝐄 & 𝐂𝐋𝐀𝐑𝐈𝐂𝐄: @omniishambles
continued from here: 13. A kiss when scared
Knife pressed against Clarice’s throat, ready to spill precious blood. It dug into the flesh, a sharp warning not to move. She could risk it, if she wanted to. But it’d pretty fucking stupid. And Clarice Starling wasn’t stupid, even if her wardrobe was upsetting.
“Don’t worry, I’m not gonna kill you.” Villanelle purred, leaning in close to the other woman, their bodies grazing each other. “I might have to hurt you a little bit, just for appearances sake...but I bet you can take that, can’t you?”
She brushed her lips against Clarice’s, teasingly, before giving into temptation. A stolen kiss, the knife still held firmly against a vulnerable throat. Villanelle pulled gently at her bottom lip as she leaned back, teeth dragging across the soft flesh.
Villanelle seemed to wield threats with the same playfulness she wielded a blade. And yet, behind her mischievous words stood a rough hand, as terrible as it was murderous. The knife dug into her flesh, deeply enough to stop Clarice to a halt, but not enough to draw blood.
The assassin was like a cat, playing with her food.
“What put you in such a generous mood, Villanelle?”
Clarice was tensed, muscles rigid, heart beating loudly in her ears. A mouse, stuck under the paw of the cat. She would have preferred to ignore the way heat flushed her cheeks, or how Villanelle’s body -close, so close- sent a trembling pressure in her lower abdomen.
But how to ignore the lips that sole hers?
A secret kiss, rough, teeth digging in her flesh. Clarice replied, too eagerly perhaps, for a FBI agent. Pleasure and pain given like a gift, the sharpness of Villanelle’s jaw just as menacing as the blade still pressed again her throat. And yet, it was the teeth that spilled blood, Clarice’s lower lip breaking under the violence of the embrace. By reflex, she brought her hand to the warm crimson trail flowing along her chin.
“Appearance's sake, right?” she couldn’t help but quip.
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communicate
Eve’s hand meets Villanelle’s cheek. It’s all she’s dreamt of. (More, perhaps.) It stings, but not as much as it must sting her. It hurts—seeing her in pain—but not as much as it must hurt her.
It makes her want Villanelle, desperately. It’s terrifying; but not as terrifying as it must be for her. Her, whose pupils are black with desire.
Eve steps closer. Pushes Villanelle back. Against the aquarium. Kisses her so hard it’s barely a kiss at all.
[continue on AO3]
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The Aliveness of 'Killing Eve's' Villanelle Is What Makes Her Death So Devastating
Killing Eve's Villanelle (Jodie Comer), the young, hilarious, cheeky, brilliant, soft, sharp, stunning, presumed-psychopathic assassin who longs for a normal life involving “someone to watch movies with,” is gloriously complete and vivid, with an agency that is always hers. Villanelle is a woman working in man’s world, as a hired-hand murderer, and also queer. Though Villanelle has a grisly career, she is not the villain of the series, per se, in the sense of being heartless and focused only on her own gain. The series follows two tracks for Villanelle — first, her individual exploration of selfhood, aka her impassioned query if she can be somebody other than a killer, and second, her exploration of self in a beloved relationship with former MI5 agent Eve Polastri (Sandra Oh). The heart of Killing Eve is the bold, graceful strength of Villanelle’s aliveness, so her death in the show’s Season 4 finale burns even more, like a massive, engulfing fire.
If we accept the experience of Villanelle’s floating body riddled with bullet wounds from a sniper in the Thames River as Eve tries to reach her in the last two minutes of the episode, it means we are saying goodbye not only to Villanelle but to the range of possibilities of what living can do, be, and feel like, which her character shows us throughout the series. Hers is an aliveness in all of its forms, especially those that are dissatisfied with parts of what one is or has become and crave to make changes to ameliorate the self. This is what Villanelle has embodied and aspired towards — by going to see her birth family, tracking down the Twelve, and so on. Her impetus for a positive bildungsroman is also part of what she represents.
While she's alive in the series, Villanelle lives with everything she has, whether completing her kills or picking out perfect clothes for Eve or orchestrating a birthday party for Konstantin (Kim Bodnia), her handler and a familial love of sorts. Even through her gusto at eating, she is careful and wild; in other words, she is completely herself. What she is, and so, how she does, sparks the same intensity as do glimpses at a future Villanelle in a grounded partnership with Eve. These are moments that can exist only through their convergence, what Eve brings out in Villanelle, the places where Villanelle spills, softens, lets in, wants, cares. When Villanelle tells Eve, in response to Eve saying she always thinks about Villanelle, that she too thinks about Eve, or when she later kisses Eve on the cheek, she is as full in her desire for Eve as she is respectful of her space.
Villanelle is open and comfortable about her queerness and also recognizes that Eve has never been with a woman before. There is an opening for Eve, in her innate attraction to Villanelle, to feel into the being-ness of sexuality as flow. The authenticity of their bond, as Villanelle and Eve experience it from the beginning and come to express with each other, successfully dismisses any discounting or exploiting what is between them. Theirs is a full experience of love and connection; it is also true that these are two women who are in love. It is their linkage, based on honesty, mutual understanding and still wanting the other, through all their displays of violence and betrayal, that prompts Villanelle to hold less that Eve has never been with a woman and more that Eve has never allowed herself to love and be loved, to let herself live with someone in the way that their longing makes them unable to hide from each other. Villanelle never does anything half-full, and the end of a character so alive, with a future to look forward to, is a pain that cannot be minimized.
The other part of what Villanelle represents comes from her remarkable attunement to the present and showing what paying attention to our lives, the world, and the people around us can achieve. Indeed, it is that fullness of life coursing through Villanelle as she embraces and kisses Eve, sharing mutually appreciated space at last, in the finale, that makes her death, a matter of minutes after we see Villanelle in this apex of grounded contentment, so gut-wrenching. Villanelle is, in part, a killer, and excellent at it, and so is her love; yet, Eve exists in ways Villanelle does not, which means that in Eve, Villanelle finds a partner who will challenge her growth while accepting her for all that she is. By the end of the series, Villanelle knows Eve is in her corner, devotedly, without an ulterior motive.
When you experience someone at their maximum self, life bursting from their orifices, and their experience is cut short, we feel not only the death of that individual but the death of infinite possibility. Even though Villanelle’s life was severed in canon and her vulnerable, joyful union with Eve was only beginning, we see in what becomes Villanelle’s final actions — from her swift rigor as she kills the Twelve to how she watches her lover on the dance floor — that she has found a kind of freedom. She trembles with the emotion of knowing herself, knowing Eve, thus knowing why she is living.
And Villanelle lives for all of it: the rage, the beauty, the incandescent streaming that separates the two, all while holding an acceptance of herself. Having found someone who orients as she does, she is ready to step forward in new, supported alignment. This is what it means to unionize in souls, to be in the world braver, and kinder, because of being loved and seen. Villanelle’s death — a brutal murder, at that — rakes over us as the death of hope and a rupture of age-old processes and potentials of the self and the heart becoming something more sound and giving. We mourn the beauty who is Villanelle, as we mourn the possibilities her life gave range to, how she and Eve could be together now, but also the versions and imaginations of living she provoked and challenged us with. We had the honor to watch Villanelle live, make sense of it all while owning the room, and clear herself out, so she could let herself love and be loved.
original publication at Collider here
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"We've talked about this. Personal space?" / eve to villanelle !
meme status: accepting.
meme source: uknown.
villanelle's eyes were on eve's lips. there were a few inches between them. not enough for their lips to touch, but enough for her to taste the coffee on eve's breath as she tried not to let it show how much their proximity affected her. the corners of her lips tugged up into a smirk. she reached up to brush eve's beautiful dark curls behind her shoulders, tucking one side behind her ear. ❝ personal space is for boring, uninteresting people. i find you to be very not-boring, and very interesting, eve. you should take it as a compliment. ❞
but eve couldn't just let her have this one thing. eve couldn't let her have anything. when was she finally going to give in and admit that she felt the same strong feelings that villanelle did? she wanted this woman so desperately. she felt as if she hadn't been alive until the day that she met eve polastri. this seemingly ordinary woman had completely turned her world upside down, so unexpectantly.
❝ come on. admit it. you like it when i'm this close, ❞ pushing her limits, because she wanted to see how far she could take it with eve, she stepped into her space even further, one hand grabbing hold of her hip, whilst the other cupped her cheek. it's undoubtly a romantic gesture, and it looks as if she's working herself up to kiss eve. again.
#storyuntrue#girls . . . villanelle.#meme file . . . villanelle.#meme thread . . . villanelle & eve.#answered ask.#answered meme.#pls feel free to turn this into a thread!
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@omniishambles sent: 😘and one from Villanelle!
from: Send 😘 to kiss my muse.
It had all happened too fast for Fish to react, and by the time Villanelle had slammed her against the wall of her own appartment, her arms were pinned on top of her head, away from her gun.
"Are you stalking me, now?" she asked, mostly to save face. Sure, last time they had been alone in a room had been a lot of fun. But Villanelle in her house? That was way more worrying.
Unfortunately, it was exhilarating, too. How fucking embarassing, to hear her heart racing in her chest as her breath got shorter, to feel her cheeks flush and her stomach flutter.
To make matters worse, Villanelle kissed her, pressing her harder against the wall. It was a hungry, almost capricious kiss. And of course, Fish kissed her back, too eagerly for a FBI Agent.
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“ i remember you saying you didn’t like this ingredient last time, so i fixed you up something else. “ Aurelie to villanelle
@outfromthesea - requested via discord
Villa dips her index finger into the chocolate sauce and smiles and hums when she licks it off her finger. It is clear that Aure is trying to make her feel as at home in this new place as possible. And though this is a lot for her to get used to, Villa really does not mind sacrificing her old life for the love of her life. Because, despite the messiness of this new life, her world just wouldn’t be the same without her beloved fiancée.
“It’s not that I didn’t like them, I’m just not used to Monacan food, Princess,” she admits to her, shrugging with one arm, before she walks over to give Aure a kiss on the cheek. Their new place of living has a bigger kitchen than the one in her old studio apartment, so she’s able to do so without it feeling overcrowded. Which is something that Villa thinks is one of the rare pros of living with the serene highness.
“I will adapt to it all eventually though. I’m just used to putting sugar and salt on everything. Like, I’m pretty sure it’s the most American thing about me.” Villa grins widely. There’s no one in the kitchen, so she’s at peace. Something she hasn’t been in a while. “It’s a lot, but I’m happy.”
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How would the ROs comfort an MC who is having a moment of inadequacy and feels that they've failed their departed parents.
Hurt/comfort scenarios 😭💕
I've been forced to take some liberties 👁️ there are quite a few chances for MC to express (if they do feel that way) this kind of worry to the ROs so—
Oh, you can tell the guy is struggling. Do Demons have parents? Parental figures? Where do Demons come from? Dante’s face scrunched up when you mentioned your own parents— the implication is clear, he has no clue what you’re talking about.
“Hm— I don’t get it, no,” and Dante adds “I don’t get why you’re worried. But I wanna help.”
Dante bites his lip, thinking hard.
“I don’t get it. But you’re amazing!” he says passionately, he waves a hand in your direction “And we’re going out to do something right now!”
“Oh, love,” Lilith pouts a little, fiddles with her hands. She opens her arms and wraps them around you, hugging you as if she could squeeze your worries away “I know it’s not the same, but I’m very proud of you.”
Lilith smiles, she presses a chaste kiss to your cheek and wipes the lipstick stain with her thumb.
“Do you know what will make you feel better?” the Succubus grins with an airy chuckle “I can make you some comfort (favorite food)! Or, well, I can try for you.”
Josh, who lived and grieved your parents’ passing right by your side, looks like a wounded man whose stitches have ripped open.
You probably provide a similar picture.
Maybe this is a thought that you’ve shared with him before, or maybe you’ve never really bothered to put that pain into words. Josh reaches out towards you mid-tirade, he intertwines your fingers together and squeezes lightly.
“Tell me how you feel, okay? Vent a little,” Josh suggests.
You barely get the words out, Villanelle listens attentively, hugs you tight and says:
“We should ask the cards.”
Villanelle gives you virtually no time to say ‘yes’ or ‘no’, she’s already found a flat surface and is pulling the tarot deck out of her bag. Her excitement at the prospect of being of help is endearing at best, whether the cards work or not.
The witch shuffles, shuffles, cards fall and are flipped over, Villanelle hums in acknowledgment, nodding sagely until she apparently sees a message laid in front of her.
“You are loved and you are trying your best,” she says kindly, barely gazing at the cards, eyes locked into yours “I don’t think you could ever do them wrong. It’s sad that you’re not confident about that.”
Victor listens to all you need to vent, nods along until you have nothing left to say, and you can practically see the moment discomfort tenses his entire figure like he’s a mannequin.
“Were your parents that kind of people?”
You shrug a little. To seek the practicality of a situation you’re already fairly sure is majorly irrational seems a little unfair.
You acknowledge that fact to him, “There’s no logic to it, I just— It sucks.”
Victor frowns, clearly not understanding, but still displeased at seeing you upset about it. One of his big hands falls on your shoulder, he pats it once, then twice, and then Victor’s fingers squeeze lightly, fondly.
Aliyah, the epitome and physical manifestation of the definition of tough love, looks at you with a little snort.
“It seems to me that you’re disappointed in yourself, am I right?” she smirks a little like being right means more to Aliyah than the actual content of her words “Blaming them is much easier than admitting it. So? That’s it? You’re doing nothing with your life and expect it all to get better by being a crybaby about it?”
You glare at Aliyah. Her lack of filter… it’s always been quite annoying. Maybe you’re wrong— calling her the epitome of ‘tough love’ puts the concept of ‘tough’ to shame, and turns ‘love’ into flagellation.
“Don’t look at me like that,” Aliyah snorts “Tell me what’s really wrong, we can fix it.”
Nathan’s initial reaction to your problems is to offer a little—forced—laugh, restlessly pointing from himself to you, then to himself and to you again.
“You and I— We should make a club,” Nathan says. You frown a little at his words. He explains, “The old guy upstairs, y’know. And I’m— Well. Me. C’mon, as comparisons go, you have nothing to worry about.”
Perhaps you’re not a celestial being losing divinity, but your very human problems have a very human way of consuming your brain. Nathan doesn’t seem to understand that, but he sees you’re still sad, he tries again.
“We should do something,” he says with a cheeky smile “I bet I can cheer you up.”
A sharp intake of breath on your part has Eden tilting her head, “What is it this time?” she asks. Her inflection is neutral, but not mean, filled with measured curiosity.
“The usual,” you shrug, self-deprecating smile speaking louder than you could “You know.”
Eden hums quietly, eyes flickering away, she thinks for a few seconds, and she looks at you.
“Let’s go do something,” she says simply, already setting in motion, almost impulsively “It’ll get your mind off of things.”
#the deal if#the deal#inferno#ask#ros#scenario#dante#lilith#josh#villanelle#victor#aliyah#nathan#eden
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