#fooltofancy

[zorlok-if]

"Evey," the blonde woman gazes past you, her lavender-gray eyes shining as she smiles. "There you are!"

"Hey, Vi," a clear voice responds, noticeably less-enthused than Viola's. You know this voice. Unfortunately.

Your muscles tense up. This was the confrontation you were trying to avoid by coming directly to Detective Jarndyce.

"I hadn't seen you yet today." Viola crosses one long leg over the other, leaning back in her chair with a smug expression. "You had me starting to worry."

"Yeah." Eve sounds tired, already exasperated and it's only 8:15. "Well, there's a missing corpse I had to deal with." You manage not to react to that statement. "And I can't just sit at a desk all day," she continues, pointedly.

Viola smiles briefly. "I'm actually in the middle of taking a statement as you should have noticed." She clears her throat, gesturing to you with an open palm. "This is—"

"Oh," Eve cuts her partner off. "There's no need for that." You hear something like a manila folder snapping shut before being dropped onto a desk. "I remember them."

Your heartbeat falters—if you do indeed have a heart. You spin around in the cheap, rolling desk chair. Eve is now towering over you less than half a meter away, her arms tightly crossed.

Your mind returns to Redcliff Forest three nights ago. The hellhound was leading the dogs and their handlers away from you—charging deeper and deeper into the park, getting as far from Fell Hollow as it could.

You were catching your breath in a bush, quickly realizing you'd picked the wrong shrub to hide in. Spiny thorns dug into your side, ripped the fabric across your back and shoulders, tore into the tender flesh at the base of your neck. You were about to move when loud radio static erupted from the ravine, no more than ten meters behind you. "55-A. Suspect in custody. All units report back to your commanding officers."

"10-4", Eve responded.

"Let's get out of here." Viola sighed. "This place gives me—"

A flashlight beam flicked on. It was aimed at the bush. At you.

"Eve? What is it?" Viola whispered aggressively. Her partner didn't respond. "Did you see something?"

Eve paused for a long moment. She was closing in, approaching slowly but surely. Leaves crunched beneath her feet. A twig snapped.

"Maybe," Eve murmured.

Silence.

You clenched your fists. What the hell? How had an ordinary human noticed you?

"We have to go," Viola pleaded. "There's nothing there. It's just a bush. Are you going to arrest a fucking plant?" She walked closer to Eve, whispering, "Come on. Let's get out of here." There was a playfulness to her voice that you didn't fully understand.

Shit. You didn't want to kill these two tonight, but if it came down to it—

"Fine." The spotlight drifted away. "After you."

Back in the precinct, you shift in your seat. "Right. About that—" you start to speak at the same time as Eve says, "You were the one we brought in for questioning last week. The one those kids saw at Sunnyside."

Relief washes over you. You do your best not to let it show. "Yes. Lovely to meet you again, Detective Park."

"Same to you." A dangerous smile touches her full lips. She tucks her hair behind her ear and pulls over her own desk chair. "I've been hearing a lot about you..."

Please enjoy this sketch of Eve courtesy of the lovely and incredible Vin (@fooltofancy). I cannot recommend working with her enough. Definitely go check out their other work (like this one of Adam or this one of Dev).

[northern-passage]

the parellels between the hunter's dream at the beginning of the chapter and jorah's appearance if/after they've been shackled are so, so tasty. that desperation of a hunter in this no win situation where the only option HAS to feel like fighting to death or giving up with the knowledge that giving up's been trained out of them (and they're so exhausted and vying with so much both physically and mentally from the fight to the vel so the training is all they have to fall back on) only for all of that to be turned on its head by this man who's been one of the only sources of comfort? oof. masterful, tbh.

thank you so much!!!

that dream/flashback sequence is definitely what i built a lot of the fight with Duncan around - i wanted it to feel familiar, and in general i like emphasizing a lot of similarities between Duncan and Jorah. their grey eyes, their familiar ruthlessness, and even the way they fight and twirl their swords. similar but very different.... and contrasting the training and earlier command of "get up" from Jorah with Duncan shackling you or nearly killing you and then Jorah stepping in to stop the hunter instead has been one of my favorite moments so far. i had that dream written for over a year (i literally posted it as a preview for ch2 on patreon in march of last year 😵‍💫) and it's just been really satisfying to finally feel like it's complete; the dream and the fight mirror each other just like Jorah and Duncan.

[blood-choke]

this is so full of love kitt i'm overwhelmed in all of the best ways

extra t giving me too much power

[agent-lapin]

saw a very questionable pink, heart-shaped universal remote that was like the size of a large plate today and thought of u and your apartment full of pink appliances.

oh vin i would have loved that................ my apartment full of pink and heart shaped things..... it wouldve been perfect..............!!!!!!!!!! 

[wonderlandcrows]

adjfklaj'j lkJAI'M SORRY OH GOD

UR NOT FORGIVEN SIOFHFIOIOFHSDF

[bunabi]

persona 3 is the worst possible tag you could have put on that post i s2g. GANG'S BACK TOGETHER, time to lie down in the sun and die i guess.

To this day I can’t make it through Kimi no Kioku without crying

[slubwub]

@fooltofancy graving right when i ulted and.. it landed on his head

[zorlok-if]

"So... Adam."

Detective Park's head turns to the side. Not fully, his eyes remain trained on the papers spread across his desk. More than that, you feel like he's making a point of not looking at you. He's not the type to give you the satisfaction of his full attention. At least, not when you want it.

"That's a powerful name," you tease. "Leaves you with some big shoes to fill. Did your mummy and daddy have grand plans for you? See their precious, pious little boy as first among men?"

A look you can't fully comprehend flits across Adam's face. He shakes his head once and snorts a short laugh. You can't tell if he's laughing at what you said or just at you in general. Both possibilities are equally likely.

After a moment, he spins around, leaning against the desk with his arms pulled tight across his chest. For a moment his muscles flex and the sleeves of his white button-up are tested at the seams. "No," he replies, his voice clear and unwavering. "Not at all." Without thinking, you lean forward slightly, intrigued. He must note your engagement because he looks even further to the side—his body facing you while his face is almost in profile. "No one gave me this name. I chose Adam myself."

You're surprised. You hadn't realized humans would do that—just choose their own names, refusing the ones assigned to them. Not that you have any problems with that. You're actually a big fan of tossing aside names that are unwillingly bestowed upon you. You just hadn't realized Adam would do the same. You always assumed a tight ass like him would be a stickler for rules, for tradition, et cetera.

"Well then." You lean back, rhythmically tapping the handcuffs with your long nails. "Why Adam?"

Adam's gaze drifts to the floor. He takes a deep breath. Without warning his dark eyes hit yours, his stare piercing through your façade.

"I've never accepted that we're stuck with the things we're given. In fact, I hate that so many people are made to feel beholden to whatever they're given at birth. So, as a kind of 'fuck you' to the idea of Creation and the concept of 'God given', I adopted the name Adam." Your lips twist into a smile. You've never heard Adam swear before. "I wasn't born Adam," he continues, "because I wasn't blessed enough to be given a name or a body that fit who I was." Adam returns to his papers, but as he looks away there isn't a hint of shame or embarrassment in his eyes. Adam is confident and collected as he says, "No one made me who I am. I am Adam. I've always been Adam. But I had to remold myself from clay."

Please enjoy this sketch of Adam courtesy of the lovely and incredible Vin (@fooltofancy). I cannot recommend working with them enough. Definitely go check out her other work (like this one of Eve or this one of Dev).