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Tell Me – dollsome – Killing Eve (TV 2018) [Archive of Our Own]

Tell Me – dollsome – Killing Eve (TV 2018) [Archive of Our Own]

dollsome-does-tumblr:

Eve and Villanelle catch up on what they’ve missed. Set right after 3.08. (3,100 words.)

“So, uh,” Eve says, “this is it.”

“I know,” says Villanelle. “I’ve been here before, remember?”

“Oh, right.” Eve tries to nonchalantly kick the dirty clothes strewn on the floor out of sight. “The teddy bear.”

“Where is she? I worked really hard on that.”

“Uh,” Eve says.

It doesn’t take long for Villanelle to spot the torn up remains of Princess Teddy Bear by the bed.

She gives Eve a deeply incredulous look. “Really?”

“In all fairness, you had just beaten me up on a bus.”

“I said hi on a bus. You are the one who went all fisticuffs.” She notices the heart on the bedside table next to a slew of dirty cups and wine glasses. “What’s this?”

“Don’t–”

It’s too late. Villanelle presses the button.

Admit it, Eve. You wish I was here.

Her face brightens.

“Don’t start,” Eve warns.

“No, I love it,” Villanelle says. “I didn’t even know there was a heart in there. So realistic.”

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killing eve 4.01: a concept

dollsome-does-tumblr:

  • we open up back on the bridge! eve and villanelle are Full Gazing! they start walking toward each other! (eve steps first.) their paces quicken! finally, we see them nearing each other in a wide shot, breathless, finally close enough to touch–
  • we cut to eve’s flat, where they are awkwardly tucked up in bed together, staring at the ceiling with hilarious expressions of distress, not making a single move. there are Too Many Feels. they are paralyzed. now that there has never been a better logistical opportunity to jump each other’s bones, they are Overcome and Cannot.
  • villanelle, valiantly fighting against the awkward silence: “thanks for letting me borrow your toothbrush.”
  • “i didn’t.”
  • “oh. (beat) eve, i borrowed your toothbrush.”
  • cut to title card!
  • eve and villanelle figure out real quick that they have to DISAPPEAR because THE TWELVE’S PISSED about villanelle’s slight disregard for following orders recently.
  • carolyn helps them find a place to hide in, like, some podunk super quaint off-the-radar english village.
  • that’s right! we’re going villaneve bottle episode! other characters, we’ll see you later in the season! (thanks for serving up some undeniably exquisite snark in your brief appearance, carolyn.)
  • fake?? marrieds?????? (eve is the one to initiate the scheme when it briefly breaks villanelle’s brain as a concept when someone thinks eve is her wife. villanelle’s brain is tired right now and can only handle so much. eve polastri: the boss of fake marrieds-ing is a concept that i would follow into hell.)
  • eve is very ‘…’ about quaint village life and expecting a hot fuzz style plot twist at every turn. villanelle is tickled as hell that people actually live like this.
  • villanelle ponders what she might be now that she’s not a devastatingly talented assassin. we get a lot of hilarious content of her trying various things.
  • “maybe i am meant to be a birdwatcher.”
  • “are you serious?”
  • “what?”
  • “is … is anyone meant to be a birdwatcher?”
  • (cut to eve and villanelle toting around binoculars and a bird watcher’s manual. there’s definitely a bit where the binoculars are around eve’s neck and villanelle grabs them to look through them and eve’s like ARGH but also fond.)
  • there’s a lot of attempts at baking. they may get somewhat violent. but villanelle is going to BAKE A CAKE for her FAKE WIFE/REAL SOULMATE, dammit!
  • they get to know their neighbors, a nice lady and her no-good husband who gradually reveals himself to be an abusive asshole of the highest order. he is probably really suspicious of eve and villanelle and feels like they’re Up To No Good.
  • there’s a bit where villanelle’s chopping wood for the fireplace and eve’s like “NOPE!” at the sight of an ax and villanelle’s like, “oops, maybe i should not have manipulated the love of my life into committing ax murder. it seemed like such a good idea at the time!” because, you know. they’ve got some issues to work out. this episode should be a festival of cute shenanigans AND harrowing pain.
  • eventually stuff with Horrible Abusive Neighbor Guy gets so terrible that his wife is in some serious danger, and eve and villanelle swoop in to try to help her. villanelle has assured the wife that if things ever get bad, just call her, She Can Help. this seems a little hard to comprehend about a cheerful weirdo birdwatcher chick, but when stuff gets dire, the wife goes for it.
  • this definitely turns into eve and villanelle, like, impromptu murdering this dude. not on purpose! it just kind of has to happen through the course of events!
  • and as soon as this dude has been triumphantly shuffled off this mortal coil in some gross weird way that he earned, villanelle starts to get that Gleam in her eyes again. “combat baby” by metric probably starts playing because what is “combat baby” by metric for if not this exact situation??
  • she and eve lock eyes, breathing heavy, absolutely In The Sexy Murder Zone
  • and then they FLY into each other’s arms and just go absolutely wild.
  • (now they have a new purpose in life!! killing shitty people to help not-shitty people! there’s SO a market for that! they are basically batman! eve doesn’t have to be a god damn birdwatcher!! huzzah!)
  • (and so begins our season of trying to defeat the twelve and also, you know, do some Morally Upstanding Assassin-ing on the side. and jumping each other’s bones a lot. a lot.)
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god can you imagine Sandra oh and Jodie Comer performing the lines dollsome come up with? We need to advise on a plan to get them in the writer’s room asap

It would be so good. @dollsome-does-tumblr‘s dialogue and romancy build, someone else adding the little Twelve bits around it. We need to get her on there.

And to anyone else who hasn’t read them yet, I get it, it’s tough to start fics for shows that are already giving you good canon content, especially when the voices are so distinct and difficult to get right, but you’re missing out if you don’t read these:

https://archiveofourown.org/users/dollsome/pseuds/dollsome/works?fandom_id=22762029

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Understanding – dollsome – Killing Eve (TV 2018) [Archive of Our Own]

Understanding – dollsome – Killing Eve (TV 2018) [Archive of Our Own]

dollsome-does-tumblr:

Eve/Villanelle. 1,049 words. Set after 3.07.

“Would you call me a beautiful monster?” Villanelle asks.

Eve snorts.

Villanelle hardens her stare.

“Oh, you’re serious.”

“Yes,” Villanelle says, glowering. “I’m serious.”

“Well, okay then. No, I would not call you a beautiful monster.”

“Why not?”

“Because I’m not in an early-2000’s emo band.”

Villanelle scoffs and puts her hands in her pockets, lets her eyes wander around like Eve’s point of view is the least interesting thing in the world. Then she asks, her voice carefully aloof, “What would you call me?”

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fic: no strings to bind your hands (eve/villanelle)

dollsome-does-tumblr:

no strings to bind your hands – Killing Eve; Eve/Villanelle; 1,500 words. Eve and Villanelle dress up for Halloween.

Read it: [AO3]

“Isn’t this a little on the nose?” Eve says. “I mean, totally backwards. But also on the nose.”

“What do you mean?” Villanelle demands.

Eve surveys their reflections in the smudged hotel room mirror. When they’d been hired to take out a mark at Prague’s hottest costume party on Halloween, she hadn’t thought much about the costume part. She was puzzling out a way to kill a shitty rich powerful man and make it look like an accident.

(Un)fortunately, her partner has costumes covered.

Eve has been trying to get Villanelle to understand the beauty of a budget. Now that they’re a freelance assassinating-shitty-powerful-men team of two, they can’t Marie Antoinette their way through Europe anymore. She’d been so busy trying to find a hotel that was cheap while not crossing the line all the way over to You might get murdered in your sleep here! that she’d forgotten to tell Villanelle not to go fucking nuts on costumes.

To be fair, that’s on Eve. Villanelle has never been able to resist a costume. Eve knows this.

Right now, Villanelle is dressed in endless folds of white tulle with a pair of fluffy wings on her back and a Beyonce-style halo crown headband that makes her face look like the center of the sun. (Looking at her face is kind of like staring into the sun anyway: irresistible, likely to cause irrevocable damage.)

Meanwhile, Eve is wearing a slinky red dress that she never would have glanced at twice on her own. Way too Jessica Rabbit. Her headband has two little red devil horns on top, each horn covered in sparkly red rhinestones. (God, they’d better be rhinestones.) Her hair falls down past her shoulders. Villanelle insisted, of course.

“It’s classic,” Villanelle says, slinging an arm over Eve’s shoulders like they’re posing for a picture together.  “Good versus evil.”

Eve snorts. “And you’re good?”

“Obviously,” Villanelle says, and blows a kiss to her own reflection.

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fic: this is what you wanted (killing eve)

dollsome-does-tumblr:

THIS IS WHAT YOU WANTED – Killing Eve; Villanelle/Eve; 5,600 words; 3 chapters. Villanelle goes to Alaska. Set after the season two finale.

Read it: [AO3]

Alaska is shit.

Villanelle finds this out too late.

She needed to get out of Europe. There was nothing left for her there. So she picked an island, that one full of bears. She looked at pictures on the internet, and they all made her big promises. Green, rolling mountains, like Ireland with sharper teeth. Brown bears and tall pink flowers. The ocean everywhere, a bright drown-in-me blue. In 1964, there was a tsunami there that wiped out the entire downtown. Before it, an earthquake shook the ground for five minutes. Five minutes isn’t long enough when you are happy, but it is eternity in a moment that hurts.

The five minutes walking away from those ruins, away from Eve who’d already walked away from her, hurt worse than the knife plunging in. She almost turned back so many times. Her hands–one clutching the gun, one clenched into a fist–screamed out, wanting to press against the part of Eve that had burst open and stop the bleeding. Don’t die, don’t leave me, you’re mine.

But Eve wouldn’t want that. Didn’t want her, even after Villanelle had given her everything, set her free, turned her dull life to fireworks. Eve would rather die. And so Villanelle kept walking.

Now she will walk right out of her old life and into something new.

She hopes for more earthquakes. For a land as wild as the feelings inside her.

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Parks and Rec con men AU. Gilmore Girls, Paris/Rory Mr. and Mrs. Smith AU.

notbecauseofvictories:

paris/rory – mr and mrs smith AU

  • The first time they met, Rory had a high-tech microchip tucked into the band of her bra, her gun in pieces scattered throughout Tver. Paris had enough firepower strapped to her waist to start a small land war (since that was the point.) Most of what Rory remembers is the blue of Paris’ dress, how breathless and warm she had been, laughing over martinis at the bar with the mysterious blonde. Most of what Paris remembers is thinking how she would to miss her window because the brunette kept plying her with drinks and listening to her talk about the political situation in North Africa. Actually listening. It is hard to find people who actually listen to Paris.
  • (They both received commendations for their work. Shortly after, Paris got a phone call asking if she had any feelings about Eastern Europe she would care to discuss.)
  • “She’s so normal,” Paris told Louise as they left the firing range. “She’s got eyes like a Disney princess, every time she smiles I expect to see little animated bluebirds swarm her. It’s disgusting. I think I love her.”
  • “I wouldn’t call her normal,” Rory said to Lane as they applied a thin layer of strychnine to the array of coffee cups. “But she’s–I don’t know, she’s angry and funny and smart, and alive. She’s really alive. I’m tired of everyone I meet being dead all the time.“

    “You’re an assassin,” Lane pointed out, setting down another poisoned coffee mug. “It’s in the job description.”

  • Rory is a “correspondent” because hey, they’re always being sent to weird places at the last minute, right? Paris is a “surgeon” because it explains the beeper and the bad hours. They get a little white house on a little cute street, and their wedding is a mix of Jewish and Emily Gilmore. Paris hires a very nice pair of actors to play her parents, but she can tell from the way that the Gilmores flock around Rory that they are not. You can’t buy that kind of sincerity.
  • That they love Paris, Richard Gilmore shaking her hand and welcoming her to the family, Lorelei trying to hide her tears with increasingly flimsy excuses–Paris can’t breathe with how good it feels, to sink into it, to belong to someone.
  • Paris has withstood torture that would break lesser men–that’s not an
    exaggeration, it’s something she’s worked very hard to cultivate over
    the years. (Doyle, her ex-partner-turned-intelligence-agent, had cracked
    after forty-two hours in simulated hostile territory, the weakling.) But all Rory has to do is give her the big doe eyes and Paris would spill pretty much any state secrets.
  • Paris always smells like the lavender shampoo she uses and just a hint of something earthy, metallic. Rory would say it’s blood, but that’s ridiculous, why would Paris smell of blood?
  • “YOU’RE A WHAT,” Paris shouts as they duck behind the marble island. And fuck this hail of machine gun fire, they just got new countertops–

    “I COULD SAY THE SAME THING,” Rory shouts back, reloading with a dangerous sort of efficiency that Paris does not find attractive. Not at all.

    “YOU CAN’T EVEN KILL THE RABBITS EATING THE PETUNIAS!” Paris shouts.

    “WELL NO ONE IS PAYING ME TO KILL RABBITS NOW ARE THEY?” Rory hurls back.

    “UGH,” Paris groans, and ducks above the counter to pick off the remaining men in ski masks as they come through the kitchen door. “WE ARE SO BRINGING THIS UP WITH TERRANCE NEXT SESSION!”

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Parks and Rec con men AU. Gilmore Girls, Paris/Rory Mr. and Mrs. Smith AU.

notbecauseofvictories:

paris/rory – mr and mrs smith AU

  • The first time they met, Rory had a high-tech microchip tucked into the band of her bra, her gun in pieces scattered throughout Tver. Paris had enough firepower strapped to her waist to start a small land war (since that was the point.) Most of what Rory remembers is the blue of Paris’ dress, how breathless and warm she had been, laughing over martinis at the bar with the mysterious blonde. Most of what Paris remembers is thinking how she would to miss her window because the brunette kept plying her with drinks and listening to her talk about the political situation in North Africa. Actually listening. It is hard to find people who actually listen to Paris.
  • (They both received commendations for their work. Shortly after, Paris got a phone call asking if she had any feelings about Eastern Europe she would care to discuss.)
  • “She’s so normal,” Paris told Louise as they left the firing range. “She’s got eyes like a Disney princess, every time she smiles I expect to see little animated bluebirds swarm her. It’s disgusting. I think I love her.”
  • “I wouldn’t call her normal,” Rory said to Lane as they applied a thin layer of strychnine to the array of coffee cups. “But she’s–I don’t know, she’s angry and funny and smart, and alive. She’s really alive. I’m tired of everyone I meet being dead all the time.“

    “You’re an assassin,” Lane pointed out, setting down another poisoned coffee mug. “It’s in the job description.”

  • Rory is a “correspondent” because hey, they’re always being sent to weird places at the last minute, right? Paris is a “surgeon” because it explains the beeper and the bad hours. They get a little white house on a little cute street, and their wedding is a mix of Jewish and Emily Gilmore. Paris hires a very nice pair of actors to play her parents, but she can tell from the way that the Gilmores flock around Rory that they are not. You can’t buy that kind of sincerity.
  • That they love Paris, Richard Gilmore shaking her hand and welcoming her to the family, Lorelei trying to hide her tears with increasingly flimsy excuses–Paris can’t breathe with how good it feels, to sink into it, to belong to someone.
  • Paris has withstood torture that would break lesser men–that’s not an
    exaggeration, it’s something she’s worked very hard to cultivate over
    the years. (Doyle, her ex-partner-turned-intelligence-agent, had cracked
    after forty-two hours in simulated hostile territory, the weakling.) But all Rory has to do is give her the big doe eyes and Paris would spill pretty much any state secrets.
  • Paris always smells like the lavender shampoo she uses and just a hint of something earthy, metallic. Rory would say it’s blood, but that’s ridiculous, why would Paris smell of blood?
  • “YOU’RE A WHAT,” Paris shouts as they duck behind the marble island. And fuck this hail of machine gun fire, they just got new countertops–

    “I COULD SAY THE SAME THING,” Rory shouts back, reloading with a dangerous sort of efficiency that Paris does not find attractive. Not at all.

    “YOU CAN’T EVEN KILL THE RABBITS EATING THE PETUNIAS!” Paris shouts.

    “WELL NO ONE IS PAYING ME TO KILL RABBITS NOW ARE THEY?” Rory hurls back.

    “UGH,” Paris groans, and ducks above the counter to pick off the remaining men in ski masks as they come through the kitchen door. “WE ARE SO BRINGING THIS UP WITH TERRANCE NEXT SESSION!”