like a folk song .

# 𝙵 𝙾 𝙻 𝙺 𝙻 𝙾 𝙷 𝚁 𝙴 .         ❛     an independent,    selective  &  highly private multimuse writing blog.    established may '16,     rebooted december '20.    featuring muses from various media such as literature,    film  &  theatre.     as narrated by dina.     20s,    she / her,     northern european.     previously known as kjerleik.

                                     [ 𝙸𝙽𝙱𝙾𝚇 ] :   from @storyreels​’s jamie.

                         raindrops crash against a rooftop,      wind creating creaks in wooden walls and tree branches gracing against windows.      before,   dani would have been scared.      each sound would have been an alarm,   a threat,   a warning of what’s to come.      but in this moment she is  not  a woman haunted within the depths of her own mind.

                                        [  she is just a woman,  ]                𝚆𝚁𝙰𝙿𝙿𝙴𝙳 𝙸𝙽 𝚃𝙷𝙴 𝚂𝙰𝙵𝙴𝚃𝚈 𝙾𝙵 𝙷𝙴𝚁 𝙻𝙾𝚅𝙴𝚁'𝚂 𝙰𝚁𝙼𝚂.

even on a fall night,   jamie is warm,   but the cold storm ravaging outside their safe haven of a home sends a figure through dani’s figure,   even as it is curled up against jamie’s.      goosebumps stand on her bare arms.          ❛     i’m cold.     ❜

             “     𝘐 𝘞𝘐𝘓𝘓 𝘒𝘌𝘌𝘗 𝘠𝘖𝘜, 𝘼𝙉𝘿 𝙄 𝙒𝙄𝙇𝙇 𝙆𝙀𝙀𝙋 𝙔𝙊𝙐 𝙒𝘼𝙍𝙈.     ”

                         ❛     i appreciate that,   but  even your body heat  isn’t enough to keep all of me warm,   and i’d rather not wake up with frostbite on my toes when the morning comes.     ❜          her voice is teasing,   pink mouth just barely turned up at the corners,   but her eyes   [ one blue,   one brown     –     they love the gardener just the same ]   are filled with a sense of tenderness reserved only for her.          ❛     i’m just getting a blanket from the living room.     ❜          still she sees the doubt in jamie’s eyes,   the way her body has tensed,   ready to spring to her feet to follow the governess,   to stop her from leaving,   from slipping away.      some days this sight would tear at her heart and fill her veins with guilt,   but not tonight.      instead her heart fills with love,   and she is back at bly manor,   infatuated   &   awkward,   desperate to be near but unsure if her feet can carry her close enough.      tonight her feet carry her close enough,   all the way to the gardener’s side of the bed.      dani is smiling now,   hand reaching up to brush a stray curl out of jamie’s face.      she leans in,   the intention is to only press a quick kiss to her lips but she lingers longer instead.

                           [ 𝙸𝙽𝙱𝙾𝚇 ] :   from @pragerstrasse​​’s august sirin.

                         there is a house at the end of a street,   a safe haven disguised as a quaint,   german apothecary     ─     inside it is  a witch and a half human,   two souls who called to each other in the night and found each other by chance.

                         daisy has never had a home.      there was the saint agnes orphanage,   the countless foster families,   her van and then shield     .   .   .      but they were all fragile,   shattering under the pressure of her catastrophic heart.      she’s a wandering soul,   a restless being at her core,   and though she waits for the instinct to run from august to set in,   it never does.      the lack of deep want to shield august from her presence   [ which she once believed could only be compared to that of nuclear fallout ]   should have scared her,   but instead daisy finds that  she likes the peace.      she looks up and takes in the color of the kitchen wall,   the sunlight beaming in through the window,   the calm sound of august somewhere behind her,   and it is suddenly all clear as day     ──     she has a home now,   and she only leaves when she’s needed elsewhere     ;

a watchdogs group in a nearby  bundesländer,   a shady politician in need of a good scare to put them back on the right track,   new inhumans popping up across europe     .   .   .      [ she may not be a shield agent anymore,   but that doesn’t mean that she's retired from her old  vigilante activities  yet. ]

        “     𝘠𝘖𝘜 𝘈𝘙𝘌 𝘓𝘐𝘒𝘌 𝘈 𝘊𝘏𝘌𝘚𝘛𝘕𝘜𝘛 𝘉𝘜𝘙𝘙, 𝘗𝘙𝘐𝘊𝘒𝘓𝘠 𝘖𝘜𝘛𝘚𝘐𝘋𝘌, 𝘽𝙐𝙏                        𝙎𝙄𝙇𝙆𝙔-𝙎𝙊𝙁𝙏 𝙒𝙄𝙏𝙃𝙄𝙉, 𝘈𝘕𝘋 𝘈 𝘚𝘞𝘌𝘌𝘛 𝘒𝘌𝘙𝘕𝘌𝘓,                                  𝘐𝘍 𝘖𝘕𝘌 𝘊𝘈𝘕 𝘖𝘕𝘓𝘠 𝘎𝘌𝘛 𝘈𝘛 𝘐𝘛.     ”

                         ❛      hmmph,   that’s  sweet.      did you find that online?     ❜            a smile tugs one corner of her mouth upward,   teasing.      she doesn’t bother trying to hide it,   and when she turns around with two mugs of hot tea in her hands,   it’s still there.      she places one mug on the table in front of august,   settling in on the chair opposite her,   and pulls up her laptop,   fingers instantly flying across the keyboard.      a moment passes at her will.

[ S01 ]     although skye is often in the field during the first season, it isn’t until S01E13 skye sustains her first major field wounds. hydra associate ian quinn shoots her two times in the stomach at close range, leaving behind two nasty circular scars on her stomach. these are the scars that embarrass her most, and so she hides them well.

[ S02 ]     although skye is a fully fledged shield agent in the second season, participating in dangerous field missions, she doesn’t sustain any serious injuries that leave permanent marks in the first half of the season. after going through terrigenesis in S02E10, skye attains her unique inhuman abilities [ vibration manipulation ] and after struggling to control her newfound powers, it all comes to a head in S02E13:

SKYE:   why do i have these bruises?

J. SIMMONS:   i ran some tests. the bruising was caused by capillary ruptures in your arms. x-rays showed more than 75 hairline fractures from your clavicle to your fingers.

SKYE:   i     . . .     i don’t understand.

A. GARNER:   you weren’t stopping your powers, skye. you were directing them inward.

these bruises caused by the hairline fractures fade eventually, leaving behind only a handful of circular discolored  [ very translucent purple-ish ]  skin, somewhat reminiscent of freckles. jemma simmons, friend and biochemist, makes gauntlets for daisy that absorb her vibrations, thus shielding her bones from shattering when she uses her powers.

[ S04 ]     after going rogue and using her powers without her gauntlets for months, daisy is once again suffering capillary ruptures in her arms. because she’s right handed, daisy chooses to shield her dominant combat hand by favoring her left arm when it comes to quaking. one can then assume that there are substantially more than 75 hairline fractures in her arms, which have created deep purple bruises running in lines reminiscent of lightning bolts from her clavicle to her fingers on her left arm. these bruises are so deep that they remain on daisy’s arms permanently. she wears them with pride:

         ────     these are the arms that can tear a world apart.

after being shot in her right shoulder in S04E04, daisy removes the bullet on her own, leaving behind an ugly scar. in S04E15, she is shot twice; once in her right shoulder  [ again, by lmd mack ]  and once in her left thigh  [ by lmd coulson. ] 

[ S05 ]     while stuck on the lighthouse, daisy is injected with an inhuman control device, which is a bodily implant used by the kree to inhibit their powers. fitz removes the inhibitor by force in S05E14, leaving a nasty scar behind her left ear. this is the scar she hates most.

   →     to sum it all up, here’s a concise list:

two bullet wound scars on her stomach.

bruises from hairline fractures; most fade, only a handful of circular discolored skin, somewhat reminiscent of freckles, remain.

permanent deep purple lightning bolt bruises covering the entirety of her left arm, minor lightning bolt bruises on her right.

two bullet wound scars on the back of her right shoulder.

one bullet wound scar on her left thigh.

in an instant, both the otherworlder’s heart shatters and he knows he’s overstepped his bounds  ( but didn’t you know that before you spoke, max? ).  teeth press down painfully into the insides of his cheeks to prevent his chin from trembling with the onslaught of sudden, negative emotion. it’s a shame that her reaction recoils his own emotions within him so strongly, never wanting to bare his soul ever again. withdrawing to a safer place. even after liz adds on to her lashing, max remains in shell - shocked silence.

max hopes that the deep wound she’s gouged out of him doesn’t show in his eyes. head light, almost like he could lose consciousness at any moment, all he can think about after blinking out of his stupor is running to isobel to curl up in his sister’s arms and weep.

❛❛   i’m sorry.   ❜❜          sorry for ever opening my mouth.          ❛❛   you’re right. i guess we don’t know each other.   ❜❜

                          𝚃𝙷𝙸𝚂 𝙸𝚂 𝙷𝙾𝚆 𝙸𝚃 𝙷𝙰𝚂 𝚃𝙾 𝙱𝙴.     this is what lack of trust does to a relationship;     it destroys it,  severs the ties between two people who were once  more than lab partners.      no matter how much she may want to allow her heart the joy of letting him back into her life something tells her not to     ─     her mind and intuition,  the very things that carried her out of roswell a decade ago.      her words have wounded him,  that much she can see.      the pain in his eyes is there one second and gone the next,  but liz sees it all the same and wonders if this is a new thing or if he was always like  an open book in her hands  and she just wasn’t looking,  blinded by the bright lights of a high school experience spent by the football captain’s side.      she doesn’t trust him and yet the guilt  stings her like a bee,  the effects of it crashing over her in a tidal wave,  washing with it the anger and leaving behind  little more  than frustration and confusion mixed with the kind of empathy one can only feel for an  almost  lover.

                              ❝     i   .  .  .     ❞        words escape her.      she was never the poet anyways,  he was.

“ there are countless ways to justify company. ”                                                      –   daisy johnson   @folklohre​

❛❛   oh, so you have to justify hanging out with me now. that it?   ❜❜          he’s teasing, but it’s only made evident by the playful smile that crawls across his face moments after he pokes at her. jonas tosses an m&m into his mouth, then offers out the colorful candies towards her.

❛❛   i like everyone’s company, but i just kind of show up and hover and i think they just accept their fate. your company is my favorite, though. it’s   …   uh, i’m just not used to being alone, so these past few years have been hard. i grew up around a lot of people, you know? and they taught us all to be dependent on each other. i like independence, but i don’t like loneliness.   ❜❜

                          𝙷𝙸𝚂 𝚅𝙾𝙸𝙲𝙴 𝚃𝙴𝙰𝚁𝚂 𝙷𝙴𝚁 𝙴𝚈𝙴𝚂 𝙰𝚆𝙰𝚈     from whatever had claimed their attention,  gaze now intently focused on jonas alone.      lips part to speak but his playful smile shuts her up long before any of the sentences meant to mend whatever  wound  her words had created are fully formed.      a roll of her eyes follow short and though despite her futile attempt to feign annoyance,  she allows a smile to tug at her mouth.      she settles in next to him on the couch and happily accepts an m&m.      not much other than silent company is expected    (  after years in the organization she’s come to know this as  THE SHIELD STANDARD.    spies are good at a lot of things,  but speaking is  not often  one of them.  )    so when he does speak,  daisy is happy to listen.      she sees much of herself in him,  in his words and in his kind eyes.      an outsider.      but though a good listener she may be,  a good talker she has never been.      a  hold your cards close to your chest  type,  as protective of herself as she is of others.      what daisy can’t make herself say is that she has a tendency to drift towards it,  that part of her brain has long ago decided that both she and those around her are far better off if she’s on her own;      the fewer people close to her,  the less casualties will lie in her wake.      she’s a soldier,  both in soul and mind,  engaged in  a constant never ending battle  with this mindset,  which for now she can claim to be the winning party of.      she’s stuck around,    beaten the odds and quieted the howling of the hound dog inside her head.

     blue eyes light up,  and a smile tugs at the corners of mike’s lips.     “sounds great,  actually.   want to switch?   my partner left me with his scotch when he snuck out — not really feelin’ that tonight.”

so ... are you ever gonna introduce me to the gardener ? she sounds pretty amazing from what you described in your story.

𝙰  𝚂𝙴𝙽𝚂𝙰𝚃𝙸𝙾𝙽  𝙾𝙵  𝚆𝙰𝚁𝙼𝚃𝙷  𝚂𝙿𝚁𝙴𝙰𝙳𝚂  𝙸𝙽  𝙷𝙴𝚁  𝙲𝙷𝙴𝚂𝚃      at the mention of the gardener   ──   like sunlight breaking through the surface of a muddy lake,     A FLOWER BLOOMING IN THE DARK.     despite her brave attempts,     the au pair is no match for the smile that threatens to break  &  so her lips curl upward,     red tinting her pale cheeks while she looks down,     avoiding bill’s eye until the right words are found.     even now,     with everything that happened at bly seemingly centuries behind them,     the thought of jamie alone is still enough to render her speechless.     and despite her youthful,     blonde  &  on her bad days,     frail appearance,     dani is fiercely protective of those close to her   ──   JAMIE MORE THAN MOST.     but bill is a good man :     he is kind,     patient,     &  most of all he believes her.     he knows her story  &  has not run,     no matter how mad she may sound.

she trusted him with her secret,     why not trust him with her love too ?