#and now Serena has to face the idea that she has no second chance

[backjustforberena]

Serena Campbell’s reaction to seeing a soldier with Cameron aka Serena knowing Bernie is hurt.

[noemitenshi]

Ok so. There's several questions in here, I'll try to address them all @marrecarandgi

Maybe let's do the "Can this man ever move on and find a new relationship after he and Tracy ride into sunset" first (which is also fully my HC, he didn't die, Tracy just had guilt-fueled nightmares that seemed so real she really believes she shot her walker!dad).

Anyway, yes, he was pretty hung up on his wife, it seems.

(Though honestly, parking her in this swamp type thing was weird to me? Like, wouldn't he want her closer by? It's almost like they don't really get Troy's character - like they present us a distorted version of him, we recognize enough of Troy in him to say 'it's him' but then there's just... something that isn't right)

Ok, lets ignore the things that don't quite fit and go with, he was super hung up on her. Though maybe not only her but also the way he lost her and how he put all of that on alicia and madison. so it seems to get closure he needed to get his revenge

(though that's again not super fitting with what they show us in ep11 - the first heart to heart he has with madison where she is about to kill him with her hammer. he says "you want her people to believe the same thing she did - when this is exactly what got her killed" warns her, really. and the way he looks at her, the way his voice sounds... it's almost like he cares. but then, why would he, if he hates her so much. It's almost like he's trying to connect to her, but then, why would he. If he hates her so much. Or maybe he wants her to stop believing in this thing that killed his wife. If so, then why save her in the end when he saw she didn't believe? It just doesn't fit together. Individually those things are fine but taken together it's very headscratchy. Sorry, I said I'll stay away from these things that don't quite fit but guess I can't stop myself ^^0)

Ok so, again ignoring all that and going with the 'he needed revenge/her killing Madison to move on... I think the fact that Madison ended zombie!serena and the fact that he buried her helped him a lot in the 'moving on from her'.

If we take this bullshit on face value with him regretting not letting alicia's idea die with serena, then even getting to *live it* (once he gets Tracy back from madison) may help him, too. A way to honor his wife and think on her but not with so much bitterness and ... well he clung to her in a way, right. Clung to revenge so he could cling to her maybe. Or the other way around. And if that is now broken (again taken the bullshit he said before he died at face value) he'll have a much easier time moving on now.

Now what happens between him and madison and alicia once they meet up - I have no idea. It could be that by this time Madison already started to regret killing him. I mean she's still not happy to see him - given that she expects him to still want to kill her. So their places could be somewhat switched now, mirroring the end of ep11. Her now full of regret and hm compassion even towards him and him... well that's the question isn't it? I think, if we go the route of 'what he said at the end of ep11 is the truth' then he should let her live. He's not gonna tell her this of course from the beginning since he doesn't trust her and still thinks she thinks like at the end of ep11 (no second chances, troy is irredeemable). So it'll be a bit of a dance I guess, with both of them misinterpreting the other's actions. But not for long bc once Tracy sees her dad no one can stop her from going to him. And that's all he wants, his daughter back. And they should leave madison and alicia and go out on their own.

Now if you'd rather not believe he had a change of heart end of ep 11 (which I get haha it kinda came out of nowhere), he's still gonna want revenge. And I think he will, once he finds them. He won't be convulted about it either, I don't think so. Now that he doesn't have his zombie!wife anymore. Now that he even lost his kid, I think he's gonna be methodical. Wouldn't mind him just creeping into their camp and shooting them point blank. Sure, they wont 'rot on their feet' but I think the need for them to be dead may at this point be greater than anything else. Especially since they have tracy. I think them having tracy is a pretty strong motivator for him to end things quickly and get her away from there. Tracy, who probably has her head screwed with a lot (I mean her going to madison after she believes she killed her dad is.. uh a choice and speaks not well of the kid's mental health... so that could lead to some interesting tension between them though I think they'd work through it soon enough. it's her *dad* after all). And yes once he's got her back and the other two lie dead, his wife buried, I think he *can* move on from her.

Probably entering into a new relationship won't be easy though (in either case, both the 'he took revenge' and the 'he just wanted his daughter back'), he feels like he wants to be single for a while now haha, which. Understandable. He was first married to his wife and then to the idea of revenge. And they say getting out of a relationship takes half the time the relationship lasted so uhm. Make of that what you will ;)

Maybe if he meets up with someone he knows it's easier for him to form a relationship than if it's someone completely new... just an idea though (maybe bc then it doesn't remind him so much of serena...?).

Also in my somewhat improbable HC (of course I have several contradicting HCs - as one does...) which I haven't quite let go off even though it turned out not to have any canon support (though also not really something that contradicts it so uhh (except for the part where I thought serena seems like a cutie and I don't want her to be a bad guy), I imagine serena as abusive towards troy.

Again no textual support of this - that whole idea was born out of the fear that they'd made troy be actually the one responsible for his wife's death (thank GOD that fear was unfounded haha). But yeah I was really anxious about this once it was revealed that alicia's idea killed tracy's mom but we had no further inforomation on it. So this fear, and the fact that he went 'it's not pretty to look at, I know' about his eye had me thinking that it could be possible. That sentence 'it's not pretty to look at, I know' gave me pause since... it doesn't sound like Troy to be concerned with how he looks. That was never him (yes even though he's well dressed now :P). So I thought, that almost sounds like he's quoting someone, omg what if he's quoting his wife?! What if his wife was at least verbally abusive towards him..(if not more)?? (Then the tracy thing kindaaaa makes sense too haha, he's subconsciously thinking back to that, is reminded of how his mom treated him and it's def a cry for help, calling his kid tracy... not that anyone heard him. as usual). Anyway if we go that route then a new relationship would be undoubtedly good for him (unless this one, too, is abusive haha...). Not sure if this makes him more or less likely to seek one out though. I think an argument could be made either way. Maybe more, just because he's still searching for what he'd searched for all his life: someone to love and appreciate him. Even while he's convinced it never could be different, didn't serena show him that, he's still searching...

-----

Now the dad thing... I think I said it somewhere before, to me it didn't feel out of character at all(if this is even what you're getting at? If not, feel free to correct me :) ). In fact I was superglad to hear him say he didn't give a fuck about Jeremiah. I maintain he had a complicated relationship with his dad (just like he had with his mom). He loved his parents probably the same way a kicked dog loves his master. Beyond reason and self-preservation. But he hates his parents, too. And I think he's ashamed of that, of feeling *wrong things*. I think he also thinks the fault that they don't love him lies with himself. That he is wrong, that he can't do what they want (a quiet child, best seen not heard etc). So he puts all that on himself, the hate he has for them and the fact that they don't love him. Both bc there's just something not right with him. So he buries it, buries it deep down.

Of course he was sad when his dad died, of course he grieved him. He probably also grieved that now he never could get from him what he wanted: being told he did good. Being told his dad is proud of him. All these things. I also think he was... relieved. And that horrified him. Showed him again, in his mind, that see, he is wrong. Who is relieved their dad is dead. And then he's also angry of course, angry at his dad for killing himself. Doing something that seems so out of character for him. Leaving Troy and Jake to pick up the pieces (probably like always... I imagine when he was drunk and destroyed things or made a mess, it was on the kids to clean up. Same with his mom btw). Anyway. very very complicated feelings, contradicting feelings even. No wonder he lost his mind in exile. And I think the fact that he destroyed this place, even though it pained him in the end, it also freed him. It was the beginning of letting go. Of his mom, his dad. Even Jake. A cleansing as he said, but for himself. And I think over the years those feelings became clearer to himself, he started to understand himself better, started to understand where his uncontrollable anger came from and could accept this. So yeah "fuck that old man" (paraphrased haha) isn't a weird thing for s8 troy to say at all. He's right. Fuck him.

---

"I'd do it all again" Right, that one. Haha, those fateful words. I hope you forgive me for just quoting my own work, since I very much explored this:

Troy felt relieved when he heard Madison asked, “Why would Daniel want to kill Troy?” This was it, he was sure of it. This was the missing piece to get back into step with Madison. Because even though she’d just told him “we’re good” he knew they weren’t. He had sensed her trepidation in her ingenious smile, in the hesitation in her voice. And now he was sure it was because he was still keeping a secret from her. A secret that only became one because of Nick, because he had followed Nick’s lead on this. And he hadn’t minded, understood that Nick rather not tell his sister Jake died partly because of him… But now he couldn’t keep quiet anymore. Not if it talking could mean that it would bring Madison and him close together again. Not if it meant it could again be as it was, before, between Madison and him. And yes, their conversation got heated once he admitted what he’d done. He should’ve expected that but he was too caught up in it. In trying to explain himself, in trying to rush to go where they’d been before. He should’ve given her more time to process… he knew she would’ve, eventually. She understood him. They were the same – and that was what he was trying to tell her, remind her of, however clumsily. “I’d do it all again,” he implored her, trying to make her see, “All of it, Madison.”

(Bolded part is the most important one). Right so I think he's wanting for Madison to see his side, for her to well maybe not forgive him but definitely accept what he'd done, accept him) and her continued refusal got him agitated, angry, and so he blurted that out - unfortunately not at all doing what he set out to do but the complete opposite. That is why he says 'hed do it all again'. He wants acceptance for who he is, he's not gonna APOLOGIZE for it and he resents her for insinuating differently. All his life he's made to feel he was wrong and in madison he thought he'd finally found someone who got him. Understood him like no other. And now she stands before him having the gall to judge him too. It's too much and so he spits this into her face, forces her to confront all the bad things in himself. Sadly for him she answers not by acceptance as he thought, especially when he said "and you would too you know you would", this callback to how similar they are, but by killing him. And I think him calling out their similarities played def a role in her decision to strike him down.

(As an aside, I don't see Troy as someone who apologizes or appreciates an apology or even... gets what it is about. Esp. s3 Troy. He's thinking is along the lines: "If I did it, I did it, so there's no use in wishing things went differently, no use in lamenting. It happened and with the information I had at that time I couldn't have made another choice. I would do things again like this. So what use is an apology? Isn't it even cheapening things? Because then I could've just NOT DONE IN in the first place. But clearly I did" It's a bit of a circular reasoning. He's a bit naive in that haha.

---

I'm not sure he raised Tracy to see zombie!serena as her mom. Yes, Tracy does call her "mom" but I didn't get the feeling that she things it really is *her*. Like I think she's very much aware and never had confusion over the fact that her mom is dead and this is her reanimated corpse. Is that much better? Not sure haha.

[terrainofheartfelt]

Miloverse headcanons: BBWE Before Blair Waldorf Era

After Georgina blows their bubble of secrecy and Rufus and Lily know, and she takes off “to the spa” the first of her exits over the first year of Milo’s life, that’s when Rufus catches the fake on the paternity test. (basically how it goes down in the show). 

The first person Dan calls when he finds out and realizes Georgina ditched is Vanessa. The second is his mom. Because his dad knows so like it’s only a matter of time, and because Dan has genuinely never been at such a loss at how to deal with something, and that’s what moms are for. (Just not Milo’s, apparently).

Alison gets a hotel room and helps out for a week — Jenny comes down on the weekend. She only cracks one (1) joke about the flying monkeys chasing her out of town, but all of that feels so far away to Dan right now. 

He considers his options and decides to take the semester off. Rufus loses his shit, but Alison backs him up. Dan wonders if there’s an unsaid something about his parents’ reasons, but he’s too tired to figure it out. Milo’s all that matters. Rufus gets on board fast (Lily and Jenny’s influence, probably), but there’s something fractured between him and Dan after that, and it’s a while until they feel normal again. 

Vanessa and Nate still have school and classes, but they help out whenever they can. Basically, they treat the loft as their study hall, even though it’s clearly in another borough. They each make jokes that the baby’s cute face is perfect therapy. After the dust has settled and it’s less weird Serena comes by too. She and Blair had been inseparable since getting back from Paris, but apparently Waldorf’s head has been turned by a new guy. 

Lily demands at least one weekly brunch so that she can lay eyes on Dan and Milo and make sure they’re okay. Each one becomes bookended by Dan and Vanya talking about their babies in the lobby. Vanya saves the day when the damn stroller wheel gets jammed (Ana has the same one). 

Serena and Nate dance around each other for years before finally getting back together.

When she comes back to find Dan with a baby, he gently closes the door on the possibility of them, and she’s okay letting it latch behind her. Dan needs a friend more than a girlfriend, and she needs a friend more than a suitor, especially with everything around Nate so unresolved. 

While most of the gang is sussing out Blair's new guy at her 20th birthday party, Georgina shows up at Dan’s door with a whole speech about how she wants to try again. The same bullshit she preached a year ago at NYU. Stupid big bleeding heart believes her, but doesn’t tell her what he knows about the paternity, and never leaves her alone with Milo. 

After another two weeks, she up and leaves again. Dan is spinning, barely keeping it together, and one day his dad and Lily appear. Lily gives him a big kiss on the cheek as soon as she opens the door, and Rufus carries a 22 lb turkey to the kitchen. It’s Thanksgiving. 

Dan can’t spend too much time worrying about Georgina establishing this pattern — it bothers him, yeah, but there’s a crying baby, and laundry to do and dishes to wash and doctor appointments and he can’t really focus on anything that isn’t Milo. 

Alison and Jenny come around pretty much every other weekend. Dan appreciates the reprieve, and the chance to lay eyes on Jenny regularly. Even if he can’t do anything about it, he can at least see her and make sure she’s okay. 

After Georgina ghosts again shortly after the New Year, Vanessa plants the idea that maybe Dan should seek some form of protection, seconded by Nate. As it stands, his rights are nebulous, with just his signature on one document holding them together. He starts to seriously think about how he would look to someone viewing his case, and gets a job, one with a great built-in child-care program. 

Once when Vanessa’s hanging out at the loft, Dan casually mentions that you know you’re Milo’s godmother, right? She points out that he’s never actually said that before, or asked. He’s bewildered, because he’s thought it so long it just seems obvious. He stares into space, mortified, until Vanessa flicks him on the nose and says she’d be honored. 

Waldorf is getting married, according to reports from Serena and Nate. Figures, Dan thinks, distantly relieved it’s not Chuck, and that whoever is crazy enough to marry Waldorf has a life that will take her far out of New York. 

Dan hasn’t seen anything of Chuck since Ana was born, because he’s busy, but also because he threatened to never come to another weekly brunch if it meant Chuck Bass coming anywhere near his son. All the same, he’s happy when during one of his regular study/play with the baby visits, Nate notifies Dan of his change in address. He doesn’t give details, and Dan doesn’t pry, but he lets himself be a lot smug.

Serenate definitely hook up at Blair’s wedding to Louis in Monaco. They agree it’s a “what happens in Vegas” situation. What happens at the wedding of your best friend/ex girlfriend you spent most of your life thinking you’d marry stays at the wedding of your best friend/ex girlfriend you spent most of your life thinking you’d marry.

Time passes in a vortex to Dan, the days only measured by Milo’s successes and meals and sleeps and milestones. It’s while Rufus, Lily, Serena, & Nate are at Waldorf’s wedding that Milo calls him Da-Da for the first time (it’s early but his son’s a genius and his language development is aided by Dan’s hyperverbalism). It’s those affirmations, those moments he clings to. 

Another moment happens later in the summer.  Nate barrels in and collapses onto the loft couch and soliloquizes about his messy love life problems while Dan only half listens. It’s business as usual until they see Milo take his first steps on his own. Nate pivots from his pity party to making fun of his best friend for crying. And taking pictures, of course. 

Georgina misses Milo’s birthday (she’d stuck around for a little after Dan’s though, then vamoosed again), but there must have been some cyclical honing signal that called her back, because now she says she’s ready. Dan has fucking had enough, so he says no, and calls her out for the faked paternity test. 

He goads her into coming clean about her milehigh escapades and angering a scorned wife with Russian mob connections and she gives the sob story of retreating to Dan and using his name and goodwill for safety. But she’s past it now and she knows what she wants and she’s taking Milo with her. But Dan refuses because he’s been here all year while she hasn’t so who the fuck is she to decide? And who are you, Dan? Because he’s not your son. 

A process server finds him at work at the Brooklyn Public Library the next day. He texts Vanessa and she’s there so fast and makes sure he gets home okay. 

Alison and Jenny are with Milo like they usually are on Saturdays when he works. Jenny takes the baby on a walk and Dan tells Alison everything and just crumbles. Once he’s gotten it out, his mom tells him to call Lily. He’ll need a good lawyer, and who would know better than her?

Due to Lily’s heavy-handedness, and the Sparks’ (because they’re now throwing their weight behind Georgina), and the sensitivity of the case, it’s handled outside of the courtroom, in endless depositions and meetings in chambers and Dan feels like he’s going insane. It feels like every other day that autumn he has to put on a suit and leave Milo in the care of Dorota and go downtown and think this might be the last day. That a decision will be made and he’ll have to go home to a completely empty house. His parents are there, always, and Vanessa and Serena and Nate orchestrate a rotating schedule of checking in on him. Eric’s at Sarah Lawrence and Jenny’s in London, so they mostly send supportive texts and silly edits of Milo photos.

There’s a social worker of course who looks into everything. In her sit down with Dan he’s so nervous he rambles on for way too long about some innocuous thing Milo did a few days ago. When he finally manages to get a hold on himself and apologizes, the social worker says, “Mr. Humphrey, do you know what good parents do? They brag about their babies. That’s all I’m hearing here.”

It’s a hard case. The lawyer—handpicked by Lily (who has experience in family court)—tells him that judges tend to favor the mother as a rule. Plus, Georgina has the biological tie he lacks. But, he has a history of stability and a long list of references and a network of support. And, biological tie or not, his name is on the birth certificate. He signed voluntarily, after Georgina asked him too. From a legal point of view, Dan’s told, his and Georgina’s parental claims have a fairly equal weight. A supposition that makes him want to scream. Or grab Milo and run. 

He confesses this to Lily of all people, she pulled him to the side so the rest of the gang could take over his kitchen. It’s Thanksgiving again. His second with Milo, and possibly his last. 

“I can understand that,” she says, “and of course we would help you, but when this works out for you, you’ll be happy you saw it through and went about it the right way. And you don’t have to spend your life looking over your shoulder and wondering what-if.” Dan thinks it’s the first time he’s ever really understood Lily Rhodes van der Woodsen Humphrey. 

When he’s not working or going through custody proceedings, Dan is with his baby. He doesn’t go out, doesn’t do much of anything for himself, because he’s afraid that anything that could be mistook for selfishness Georgina will find out and find a way to use it against him, and because if he loses, he wants all the time he can get. He wears himself down. 

His parents catch on, and one afternoon Alison takes Milo to MOMA for a day, and Serena meets with the judge in chambers, signs her name to an affidavit, then goes to Dan in Brooklyn to tell him that she gave testimony on the kind of person Georgina Sparks really is. 

The judge decides the case a week later, and Serena’s no holds barred disclosure compels him to not only grant Mr. Humphrey full custody and parental rights, but also a restraining order protecting Dan and Milo Humphrey and Miss van der Woodsen and a mandate that Miss Sparks relinquish her parental rights. Extreme measures for extraordinary circumstances. 

Dan is so relieved that on the way to collect Milo from the courthouse’s malignant limbo daycare, he kind of—collapses. His legs give out beneath him and he slumps down, back against the wall. His parents stay, Rufus crouching in front of him, Alison kneeling at his side, while Lily heads out to the lobby to tell they’re assembled family they won. They’re all there: Vanessa, Nate, Serena, Eric, Dorota, Eric’s even got Jenny on the phone. 

Milo’s second Christmas is in Hudson. They squeeze into Alison’s spare bedroom and Jenny is back in hers and Dan loves the city but getting out of it for a week is nice. It’s snowing outside and it’s Milo’s second Christmas and Dan is his dad and they don’t ever have to be apart.

[intheshadowofsignificance]

I think the point is June and Serena becoming the same person in the end so there’s not any room for better or worse.

I completely understand your interpretation and there’s so much it makes me want to touch on and dissect.

Ultimately, June and Serena are different people with different experiences. Trauma and pain were a huge part of Gilead’s narrative even before it existed, and seeing that trauma manifest in similar ways between June and Serena is so, so interesting to me.

Ultimately, to me, Serena is a more compelling character. I personally like her more than June. That doesn’t make her more likable overall though, and it certainly doesn’t mean the two were created equal.

June has more room to grow and evolve than Serena, because despite what she’s been through and the anger it’s bred in her, she’s empathetic. She cried holding Esther. Regardless of it potentially dismantling their escape, she didn’t leave her. She felt deeply for Janine’s struggle too, and mourned her when she thought they were separating. She has complex PTSD and I think the flashback of Alma is a nod to her survivor’s guilt. The question of what she deserves is another nod to that. We don’t get that kind of reflection and introspection from Serena.

When she’s praying in the church, it’s not because she’s truly sorry, or truly grasps the horror of what she facilitated and forced upon thousands of women, it’s because she wants something. She wants a healthy baby. When Serena mourns Nicole, she’s moreso mourning the chance she lost to be a mother. She doesn’t feel compassion for Nicole’s separation anxiety, she immediately tells her, “it’s mommy.” Because what she really wants from Nicole is someone to love her. Serena never mentioning Nicole again during her pregnancy is very telling. It was never about a little girl she loved and bonded with, but the idea of having that love and bond in the first place. Motherhood is about completing herself, not bringing another soul into the world and helping them find completion.

June tells Hannah it’s okay to be angry with her. Can you imagine Serena telling preteen Nicole the same in that context? Can you imagine Serena being okay with a daughter who rebelled, and showing her compassion instead of spiteful, Bible verse scorn in the face of that rebellion? Serena’s own mother masqueraded her grief around for attention and sympathy. Serena is intoxicated by that same attention as long as she’s not the subject of it, and I could see her turning into Pam without much effort.

One thing June got right in the last scene that I don’t think is remotely shared between them is this: Serena is a sociopath. Not one who was made, like June, for the sake of survival, but one who was born. She doesn’t genuinely know how to feel anything for anyone else, she’s able to leech people’s emotions when she needs to, but she very seldom feels anything for herself towards other people.

When she got shot, was recovering, and called Fred weak, that wasn’t compassion. That wasn’t love. The Waterford’s had a marriage when Fred was useful to Serena and vice versa. When Eden died and she saw what very well could’ve been a younger version of herself drown in that pool, she grieved. Not for Eden, but for the person she made her out to be in her own head. For the person her daughter could have grown up to be. When we find out Eden had written in the Bible and Serena condemns her for it, we get confirmation of this. Eden isn’t who Serena thought she was, and Serena’s grief is strictly for the idealized version of her.

I firmly believe she could only let Nicole go because she saw herself in Eden. When Eden died for love while everyone around watched her drown, just like Serena was drowning grasping for the pieces of her failing marriage and the illusion of her superiority in Gilead, she realized she wanted more for Nicole. And the second the smoke cleared and she started to feel empty, she took it all back.

Right now, June and Serena are the same. They’re drunk on power and in a desperate battle to be in control of their own life. The difference is, June has the capacity for empathy and love, and will eventually use those things to see the wrong she’s done, whereas Serena is, in my opinion, incapable of meaningful grief, reflection, and growth.

She lived her entire life as a fanatic in a faith that requires surrender, not because she’s committed to it, but because she practices a version that absolves herself of responsibility for what she’s done. If she gives it to God, God will forgive her. If she says she’s making amends, she doesn’t have to actually do it. Some people use God, even in Gilead, to find meaning in heinous things. Serena uses God to take the meaning out of them.

It was his plan. I am his vessel.

Gilead made June into this person too, she didn’t care who died for her, she just needed to get to Hannah. Start a movement. Keep moving, keep being useful.

June has been cold and callous and she has committed atrocity just like Serena Joy, the difference is she has the capacity to recognize it eventually, and change. Whether she will or not is up in the air.

But anyway, all this is to say that June and Serena are both products of their environment, but June was very on the nose when she told Serena she didn’t know how to love. I genuinely don’t think she does. I don’t think she feels much other than smugness unless she’s sapping it from people around her.

Neither of them is perfect, and I think saying June is better or worse than Serena would convey the wrong message. What I will end on, though, is the notion that June is more human than she is calculating, while Serena feels more calculating than she does human.

[kominum]

semoto (corpse x fem!reader)

4 times you think tuxedo mask!corpse could be yours + 1 time you learn to stop feeding your own delusions 

pt. 1 + background info can be found here! please read for context. 

basic rundown of classic!sailor moon (anime) lore ‘creatively’ used in this two-part:

sailor moon and tuxedo mask are star-crossed lovers/soulmates that faced tragedy in a previous life. 

sailor mars (aka you/reader) had a crush on tuxedo mask’s non-hero persona, darien/mamoru, for a while 

sailor moon is the moon princess and tuxedo mask is the earth prince.  

sailor moon’s non-hero persona, usagi/serena, bickered a lot with darien/mamoru.

fem!reader // tw: death mentions, bodily injury, unrequited love to the very end, some unresolved tension. 

1. “Whaddup, baby?” 

Without much reason, you and Corpse trade off calling each other whenever a new monster is defeated. You’re figuring out all of this as much as he is, but he doesn’t have much guidance besides some supernatural force within him. He’s not taking instructions from a black cat and white cat like you and the other girls are who can help fill you in on the gaps -- all he knows is that he’s pivotal to maintaining Earth’s existence, and he’s not exactly thrilled about it.

But the calls are never about the fights, never about your secret identities. In fact, you’d be willing to bet half your grocery funds that he still hasn’t made the connection between you and your Sailor Mars persona and part of you wants to keep it that way. Sometimes you’re mentally exhausted and just want to forget about the events for the day or night, which is why you usually end up calling him soon after everyone disperses or vice versa. It’s almost instinctual these days, and you wonder how long it’ll be before you accidentally crack. 

Right now, the rule of thumb seems to be, “Never trust new flashy shops that open with no warning and have too-good-to-be-true grand opening offers.” This time, some luxurious salon opened up by a famous local hairdresser had been the said attraction. All of you weren’t ignorant enough to believe the sham, but the star of the show had taken the chance to say, “Let’s go scope it out!” when really, she wanted that free haircut. You had called her out on it, but she argued that if anything happened, then perfect, you all could take care of it right then and there. Needless to say, you do not want to be attacked by a monstrous version of Edward Scissorhands ever again. Corpse had made a dark, humorous entrance, a style he’s really adapted to because he knows it pisses Sailor Moon off, 

About an hour later, you’re home and bandaging up some cuts and rubbing salve on bruises, phone on speaker and dial tone blaring through the bathroom. You’re addressing the scrape on your knee when he picks up, a low drawl of, “Whaddup, baby?” comes through and your heart stutters.

The girls call you a number of terms of endearment: sweetie, honey, love, dear, babe, queen, but the last person to address you as ‘baby’ with any amount of affection was your ex-boyfriend.

You scoff to hide how flustered you actually are, quietly hissing as you attempt to put some Neosporin on the scrape and catch onto some stray skin. “Are you drunk?” You ask jokingly, knowing full well he wasn’t. 

“Drunk? Nah. Tired? Yeah. But that’s always.”

“Sorry to hear that.”

“It’s old news. But uh, what’s up? Been a while since we last talked.”

“We talked like...three days ago. You called me, remember?”

“Feels like forever. I like talking to you.” 

You wonder if it’s irony or plain, cruel fate that this man will probably be the death of you.

2. “Don’t lay a fucking hand on her.”

It’d been a bad day overall. Lack of sleep compiled on by a growing pile of assignments in addition to having to get your tires checked out for an air leak because your car said, “Not today, honey,” -- everything came together in torrential hurricane and the last thing you needed was to be caught fighting another force of evil.

You’re so tired.

Sailor Moon seems to have all the energy in the world as she dodges attacks left and right, but your muscles are screaming in agony. You’re constantly hunched over and panting, but looking for the right openings to weaken the monster. Luckily, the creature has its back towards you when it dashes over to Venus and you muster everything you have to summon a bow and arrow made of fire, pulling back and making sure your arms don’t quiver. 

But at the last second, your lack of oxygen gets the best of you and your flame sniper barely manages to graze the monster’s side and narrowly avoid Jupiter. It’s enough to cause a distraction, but the anger in its glare as it’s directed at you elicits surrender in your heart. There’s nothing left in your bones to help you run or hide, and your knees buckle painfully onto the concrete. Everything else hurts so bad that you’re not bothered by the sediments digging through your skin. Venus is running towards you but she’s not quick enough, and you feel your eyes begin to slip. If this is what death feels like, then so be it. You hope that the girls’ mourning will be short, that they can still complete the ultimate mission, and--

“Don’t lay a fucking hand on her,” an angered, frustrated baritone spits out and you’re torn between laughing or crying. In a separate romantic context, you’d like the idea of wholeheartedly leaving your life in his hands. But in this reality when either of you could die at any moment and the world be consumed in darkness, it’s something you would never wish upon anyone. It’s a different situation than your bonds with the girls. 

The pain is enough to send you in and out of consciousness for the next few minutes. But strong, warm arms sit you up, though they’re slightly trembling and keeping you awake. “Hey, you okay? What happened to you? You’re stronger than this.” 

“G-great way of telling me, fuckthathurts, that I was...shit today,” you joke, but hiss when you try to move your legs and the deep scrapes scream in agony. 

“Take it easy, ‘kay? Or your princess is gonna have my head--”

“Thanks man, but we got it from here,” said princess interjects, hoisting you up with the help of the other girls. “You can go.”

“Speak of the devil,” Corpse chuckles and helps make the transfer less painful, a lot less awkward jostling around. “Look, I saved her--”

“And I said thank you. We’ll see you around,” your stubborn friend dismisses. 

“You’re welcome, baby.”

“Not your baby, piss off!”

3. “I’m always gonna be there for you, no matter what.”

It’s soft yet sonorous, deep yet light. Twilight hours are cast high above you both, separated by walls and buildings connected over wires and unseen forces. Technology is the sharpest, double-edged sword you’ve seen and used on this planet, because Corpse has never felt so close yet so far than in this moment. Your mind deludes you further by indulging in believing he’s right there next to you, strong arms holding you much like he did when you were on the brink of unconsciousness just two weeks ago.

Wishing, hoping, wanting. Dangerous, dangerous, dangerous.

The one year anniversary of your ex-lover’s death looms over you on another sleepless, caffeine-fueled night. It’s no surprise when his custom ringtone chimes softly throughout your room during these graveyard hours, but it certainly raises your eyebrows when after a minute or two, he asks tentatively, “Are you gonna go visit him?”

There’s no question as to who or where “him” is. You haven’t been since the funeral, if you’re honest, swept up by work, classes, and your new side job. But Corpse doesn’t know that, and you know it’d be the right thing to do. Maybe it’d help settle the storm of anxiety (or guilt?) that swirls in your gut on a daily basis. 

“I think so,” you reply quietly after a moment of silent contemplation, already thinking ahead to what the drive might be like. “He deserves better.”

“Do you want me to come with you?”

Charming, compassionate, thoughtful, absolutely too good for this world -- the three-letter affirmation nearly slips off your tongue without a second thought. You can’t risk him seeing you, putting two and two together, and potentially forever losing him to his long-lost princess. Selfish delusion creeps through your veins and you fight back the shiver of guilt that runs down your spine. 

“I think I’ll be okay. Might be a visit made best alone, but I really appreciate you even asking.”

“Let me know if you change your mind. You know I’m always gonna be there for you, no matter what. Right?”

Warmth. Strength. Oblivion. 

“I know. Thank you.”

4. “I don’t have anyone else but you.”

“Why are we doing this again?”

“Because we can’t sleep and have nothing better to do.”

“That’s bullshit and you know it,” you chuckle into your phone, free hand swirling a pot of instant ramen. “I have better things to do at 3 in the morning than watch The Poltergeist with you.” 

“Then go fucking do it,” Corpse laughs teasingly. 

“And leave you high and dry? I don’t have the heart.”

“I mean, you really don’t have to--”

“Seriously, I was awake anyways. Just giving you shit.”

“One of these days, you’re gonna fucking regret it.”

Ramen done and lamp on, you snuggle beneath your blanket and start the traditional countdown to pressing ‘play’ on the movie. Neither of you really had the technology to screen share on this Discord call (your laptop is almost on its last leg and your apartment WiFi can be spotty at times), so it seemed better this way. 

The next roughly 2 hours are filled with laughter, small jump scare yelps, and quiet yelling at the ignorance and twisted logic of horror movie characters. But towards the end of the movie (and arguably the climax), your eyelids start to droop, body succumbing to the warmth of your bed. The screaming and cheesy, orchestrated music are all background noise as your breathing evens out, shifting in and out of consciousness. Ending credits roll on screen before you know it, and the only think that rips you awake is Corpse’s gentle calling of your name. 

“Sorry, fell asleep,” you murmur tiredly and squint at your screen, languidly closing out the window and letting the Discord window take precedence. “Tells you how riveting I found this movie.”

“Should’ve just let you sleep, my bad,” he chuckles. “Thanks for staying up with me.” 

“Yeah of course -- I wanted to, just got a little sleepy. Wanna watch another one?”

“ ‘m actually gonna try to sleep. Don’t wanna bother you too much. You got work tomorrow?”

“Not ‘til noon so it’s okay. You sure?” 

“Yeah...yeah. I’ve only had like...3 hours of sleep lately. Fucking awful.”

“Anything I can do to help?”

“You do enough by just letting me call at the fucking crack of dawn, seriously.”

“I’m your only option, let’s be real,” and your voice is a mix of fatigue, humor, and some bitter sardonicism. There’s no malice intended, and you really hope it’s conveyed accurately. 

“...I don’t have anyone else but you,” he all but murmurs. Your heart clenches painfully, anxiety and fear and love surging through your lungs. Those words don’t hold the connotation you desperately wish for, but what matters most is that he knows he’s not alone and you’re not the only one he’s got. You verbalize as such and he only hums back in a façade of agreement before wishing you a good night. 

And sometimes, while you do know that your girls have your back and that you love them to death and would take a bullet for them any day, there are nights where you really do feel the same.

That you have no one else but Corpse. 

5. “He was never yours.”

There’s nothing you hate more than psychological monsters. You’d probably take physical pain over mind games any day because at least, it’d heal faster to some degree, or there would be a more surefire way of minimizing symptoms. But sometimes, there are days when the egotistical chess players of hell come to wreck havoc on the world, and you get lost in their trap. It’s annoying, a pain in the ass, and affects you a lot more than it should at times. 

This particular instance makes you want to quit. It makes you, Sailor fucking Mars, guardian of the planet of fire and passion and perseverance, leave all of this behind right here and now. You’ve never hated yourself more for feeling so weak. 

You’re not sure what to call it -- altered dimension, distorted reality -- but all you know is that you and the princess are kept in separate cages hanging from an endless ceiling, labelled as baits for tuxedo mask/Corpse to come. The enemy lets you both stew in the confines of the metal, watching with glee as your partner attempts to cut through the rails with her tiara and ultimately fail. It seems they’ve thought of everything because you’re not their #1 enemy today. Or maybe you are. You’re not sure anymore, even as they launch into villainous speech. 

“Nothing brings me more joy than watching you lose all your energy to fight, both physically and mentally. I’ve seen all your dreams and wishes. Nothing’s more fickle and double-edged than love, no? We shall see who the prince really belongs to.”

Mention of the prince has you snapping your head to meet the enemy’s eyes, slowing squinting as they catch yours and begin cackling like your demise is racing at the speed of an oncoming train. Your princess looks confused, but dread is heavy mercury filling your veins because you know, you know, your best held secret is coming to fruition. 

“What the fuck are they talking about?” She hisses across the void. 

“I don’t know,” you lie through your teeth, eyes flicking toward every corner of the cage now to find a way out. This isn’t how you wanted it to happen, much less happen at all. 

“Are they talking about Corpse?”

“Is there any other prince they’re referring to?”

“Do you always have to be a smartass with me?”

“Somebody’s got to,” you allow yourself a slight reprieve of laughter. It’d be dumb to try to set fire to this thing, knowing you’d only burn yourself in the process. Your exorcism tags also have no use and you can hear the clock ticking down in your mind. 

“Think it’s pretty fucking rude to keep a couple of girls in cages, not gonna lie,” a baritone voice cuts through. It sends temporary sparks of relieve down your spine. Perhaps you’ll have a fighting chance to get out of here. 

“Welcome, welcome! I’d like to get straight to the point, but maybe we’ll up the stakes a little bit before you answer my question,” they tease cartoonishly and you want to roll your eyes.

“Is this a fucking test--”

Both you and sailor moon yelp as the cages drop into a miraculously (or not) appearing large body of water, but still hanging just above the surface so you have enough air to breathe. You look out and down to see how deep this pit is, and though it might be some elaborate illusion seemingly defying all laws of physics, you see nothing but descending darkness. You don’t even have to hear the question to know what the enemy is going for, to know that they’re trying to hit you where it hurts the most, and you loathe how cliché and goddamn unfair this whole situation has turned out to be. 

“So, dear prince. Pretend that the fate of the world depends on the princess. Before you are just two girls you know and care for, stuck, captured, and on the brink of drowning. You may only save one. Who would it be?”

It’s fucked up. Corpse seems stunned, perplexed by the question. “What the absolute fuck is this? Just let them go if you had an issue with me.”

“Quite frankly, I have an issue with allof you, so this is only fair. Now, what’s your answer?”

Corpse catches your eyes first. Is it from the water that your eyes seem to be brimming with unshed tears? Is it stubbornness or defeat in the way your hands clench around the cage bars?

And this is why, once again, you hate enemies who strictly play mind games. Confirmation that Corpse would never love you the way you do him, knowledge to the princess that she’s the source of your deepest unhappiness despite the bickering friendship, realization to Corpse that the girl he’s treasured so dearly and maybe unknowingly kept as a bit of a placeholder was doomed to love him -- pain on all of you, lashes and scars on what was once believed to be unbreakable bonds, as soon as the villain explains it all with sick glee. 

“Do I have to give you an answer?”

“If you don’t, I’ll really consider drowning them since I honestly wasn’t before.”

Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock.

“Ah, just to make things a little more interesting -- I’m aware you and the princess speak regularly outside of all this.”

They what? This was certainly news to you. 

“And?” Corpse asks somewhat defensively. 

Don’t say it. Don’t tell him. Please don’t--

“Say Mars, don’t you enjoy those late night calls with him, too? Though I must say, meeting in a hospital while your ex-boyfriend is having life-altering emergency surgery seems rather morbid in its own respect.”

You don’t have to look at him to know and hear the gears turning in his brain, the villain allowing this brief silence to let everything sink in. There’s a disbelieving whisper of your name, your real name, but he’s cut off from saying anything more. 

“You have 10 seconds.” 

You know the stories. You know the couple’s tragic end in their previous lifetime. You know that as much as the princess denies feeling anything but annoyance towards Corpse, she looks forward to seeing him. There’s a certain softness that he treats her with, different from the platonic affection that he showers you in. You’ve lied to yourself for too long. 

The countdown has no chance to finish when Corpse spits out a name that’s not yours, your eyes squeezing shut to fight back the tears that threaten to flood over. Everything disappears and you land on your butt -- a quick sweep of your surroundings registers two things: Corpse running over to your princess and the villain standing proudly at the chaos they’ve created. It’s instinct that has brings your powers to surface, arms and fingers quickly notching a fiery arrow with pinpoint aim at the imaginary target on their head. “Move!” You yell at the two and they scramble to gather their bearings and avoid your rage. 

They don’t run or cower. The maniacal grin only grows wider and more sinister and you’re this close to screaming expletives. 

“Hurts, doesn’t it, to know that he was never yours?”

It’s the last thing they say before you release the arrow, watching with no remorse as they burn and disintegrate. When the dust disappears and the dimension shifts back to some abandoned building with an exit, you run. 

You run until your lungs burst, until they scream over the aching of your heart, until your costume dissolves and you’re finally buried under the blankets. You turn on ‘Do Not Disturb’ and only allow notifications from a select few important numbers.

And maybe you’ll keep running. Maybe you’ll go off the grid. Maybe you’ll let your voicemail inbox fill up with unheard messages, apologies that you don’t and never will deserve. 

But the love you feel and cherish will never fade. It’ll run alongside you; a bright, burning star, forever bittersweet--

Forever out of reach. 

[kirajw]

TFATWS 1.04 Reaction: So. Many. Gems.

I can’t stop thinking about this episode, so I’m going to fire off some half-formed thoughts about before I probably belly flop into some fan fiction.

AYO!  I'm so excited that the show isn't afraid of including Wakanda and its rich history of characters into the story.  It's been annoyingly absent from every other post blip movie/show.  Florence Kasumba is also absolutely beautiful.

Everything about the Wakanda flashback is God-tier. From the crackling fire to Ayo's little face-twitch when she says "You are free."  Sebastian Stan's work as Bucky has been one of the most layered and haunting, and he absolutely nails this moment of liberation and also extreme guilt.

Zemo brings up the idea of "supremacists."  And it's a complex and dangerous one, and extremely timely these days.  He also floats the idea that the Avengers were supremacists, and he might not be wrong. Especially Tony. 

Stop letting Zemo wander around unsupervised.  He is an entire terrorist who killed King T’Chaka and countless others.

Sharon's character still bores me, and I don’t trust her bland ass.  She's basically playing Emily Thorne with a different revengenda.  I just want to know what it is.

It's so bizarre that Captain White Privilege just struts around the city with the suit and shield.  He looks like an absolute clown.  

Karli falls into the Killmonger Dilemma when it comes to being a villain.  Her beliefs are not wrong.  She, along with 3.5 billion others, have been irrevocably wronged.  But the way she's fighting is wrong.  Sam got her to see that in 10 minutes. The entire scene proves why Sam should be Captain America. Yes, he’s a trained soldier willingly walks to a meet filled with super-soldier supremacists. And just talks. His heart and mind are his greatest strengths.

Great Value Cap is absolutely losing his mind.  His twitchy and anxious and...bloodthirsty.  He's been deployed three times.  I wonder if anyone bothered to check if he has PTSD?  He rushes into to arrest Karli and destroys any chance of a peaceful resolution.

As Americans, we've seen this so many times: a peaceful dialogue/protest/meeting undone and escalated to violence by people of authority, so nothing gets accomplished except more people get hurt and the war never ends.

Notice that the Dora Milaje choose to attack when Sam, who they’ve fought with, is being threatened by Captain White Privilege.  

“Looking strong John!”  It’s never not funny!

This whole action sequence with Captain KKK and the Dora Milaje is FANTASTIC because they could have killed him if they wanted to.  It also shows the reverence and respect Sam and especially Bucky have for the Dora. 

I *ALMOST* felt bad for Discount Cap after this fight. He's been handed all this authority by the US government, but everyone just laughs in his face whilst whoopin' his ass. But his brokenness is because he was bested by African women from a country he probably thinks is a "shithole” even though that’s where the shield he carries originates from. Johnny Black and Blue thinks he could beat Serena Williams at tennis or Simone Biles at gymnastics because society told him he could. His utter disappointment is based in white male privilege, racism and xenophobia.  And it's disgusting.  That's why he's the perfect mascot for America as it truly is. 

I know he’s super-powered, but is Bucky considered disabled because he’s an amputee?  I mean his entire shoulder is missing? 

Why is Bucky’s arm twirl reset so sexy?

Get we get a Dora Milaje series now?  It’s been THREE YEARS.

"I'm trying to figure out if I need to kill your brother."  So yeah, definitely a villain.

You can't be Cap if you love doors.  Or want to grow old with your bestie.  Too soon?  RIP Lemar.

The slow reveal that Captain Amerikkka taking the serum is chilling. 

It took me a second to realize that they never planned to kill Lemar.  It was entirely an accident, similar to what happened with Rhodey in #CivilWar.  This whole episode feels like a wonderful and Tony-free homage to Captain America: Civil War.

The serum doesn't change who you are.  It exaggerates it.  And the final moments of the episode show us who John Walker really is: bloodthirsty, violent, racist, vengeful, and completely unashamed.  America's cop, indeed.

[cherryblossomtease]

In The Fairest Season ~ Part 2

18+only

warnings summary masterlist

~JUNE~

The first time you sing for the Baron you haven’t even met him yet. In fact, you have no idea that he is in the audience.

Your solo, the lone aria not sung by Serena, the lead vocalist who will never let anyone forget it, opens the second act and it is your chance to show the world, or at least the city, that you are meant for greater things.

You give the song everything you have. Living it, breathing it, exhaling it out across that stage until the audience is moved to tears. You can’t see them for the lights, but you can feel it.

Follow that, you think as you glide offstage, passing the undeserving diva who strong armed her way to top billing. You don’t like to fight amongst your own kind, but if she suddenly lost her ability to speak you wouldn’t be sad about it.

Curtain call confirms your intuition. You are pulled front and center by your cast-mates and their own applause is drown out by the roar of the crowd.

The people love you.

Accepting your praise with a truly humble heart, you curtsy under a wave of roses. All the while, one man sits watching from a private box.

He is the last to stand. Not because he disagrees with the ovation, but because he’s been rendered immobile since the moment you opened your mouth.

You didn’t know it then and neither of you would be certain right away, but it is clear to any who see the way he looks at the aspiring songbird dipping low as she thanks the audience with tears in her eyes— Baron Helmut Zemo is already falling in love with you.

While finding out as much as he can about you is easy for a man like the Baron, your only knowledge of him is gained the same way as most outside of the elite circles— through rumors and whispers— and those tell the tale of a powerful man who has gained the love and devotion of his fellow soldiers and countrymen while at war with an enemy state. Though some say his tactics were less than honorable…

Either way their war was too distant, both in time and setting to matter to anyone here, but it changed the Sokovian people forever, reshaping the land and claiming so many lives.

Zemo’s wife and child among them.

You’d heard the story in passing and found it heartbreaking but hadn’t felt the need to think of it again until today, thanks in large part to the kindness of Colonel Nicholas Fury and his wife, the Lady Valentina a former Countess through marriage with a taste for danger. It comes as little surprise to those in the know that the Colonel, or his Lady wife would know someone like the Baron, who happens to be a former Colonel himself, though there are many secrets kept about their history and just how such a friendship was made.

Today however, none of it matters as the Colonel and Lady Valentina are holding a lovely benefit for the local children’s home, and while it is a reason to show off their mysterious guest, as the Baron will be staying with the pair for the season, you’d agreed to entertain long before rumors of this Baron began to make the rounds. The Colonel pays prices most girls won’t see after a month of work, and with nothing expected from you but your voice at its best and your personality front and center to charm the upper class, this is the sort of performance you look forward to.

Accompanied by piano in the grand solarium, the performance is by your own standards a very good one; Understated, gentle on the ear, but, as is evidence by the looks on the faces of the Lords and Ladies in attendance, no less impactful.

“Haunting” Is what you’re told by those who greet you afterwards and you wear that word like a badge of honor over your heart as you mingle.

It is between sets while standing at the piano that you feel the lightest touch on your shoulder.

Fingertips, brushing your bare skin with a hesitancy but such longing that your attention is grabbed instantly.

You’ve been touched like this before, but this is different—you turn around feeling curiosity instead of dread.

You aren’t quite sure how long it takes you to speak. Maybe it’s seconds, perhaps some minutes or more before you find your words, the point is, time feels irrelevant.

His gaze is as bold as the sun and you are held there, left to feel the trails of heat along your skin in the wake of it—up your arms, across your shoulders and neck, your lips— you’ve never had a man look at you this way before and not felt the urgent need to run. Instead, you take a step forward.

“Madame. Allow me to introduce his Lordship, Baron Helmut Zemo.” The Colonel announces.

With a slow bow of your head you lower into a small curtsey to show respect for the man above your station. Your eyes lift to meet his as you rise up and watch his mouth curl into a hint of a smile.

“Madame y/n” He exhales when he says your name as though he is relieved to know it and you feel the little hairs on the back of your neck rise as if he’s whispered in your ear. “It is an honor.”

You smile and thank him “The honor is of course mine, my Lord Baron.”

“After today I’ve had the privilege of watching you perform twice now. But I was beginning to fear I might never meet you in the flesh.”

Something about his choice of words makes you feel warm all over. “It seems the stars have aligned and brought us together after all.” You say with a genuine smile.

He gives a hint of a laugh and glances at Fury. “Yes a, Man shaped constellation” He teases making the Colonel grin.

“Forgive me Barron Zemo,” You say a little timid. “I hope I don’t embarrass you or myself by speaking freely, but… your accent? Please, tell me the name of your country. I’ve heard it said before but can quite recall.” You’re unable to hold back your curiosity and the way he forms words has you eager to know more.

“Ah.” He flashes a quick smile. “Well, you see I am only here to visit my friend as you know.” He says glancing at Fury. “A summer abroad. A summer away…” You catch a hint of sadness but he presses on. “I am from Sokovia. A small country but there is none that can compare to its beauty.”

“Sokovia?” You say it slowly “Yes, in passing I’ve heard it said but I am ashamed to say I could not point to it on a map. Though I’m sure it’s as beautiful as the tone you take when speaking of it.” You pause to look him in the eye. “I can hear the love you hold for your homeland in your voice Baron.” You are being polite but the truth is, you are struck by it. He has a sort of rasping tenor that comes out in a hesitant whisper, as though he wants to say more but fears saying too much.

I can take it, you think and find yourself drawing your bottom lip between your teeth as you study his. He has a wonderfully wide mouth and the way his lips move when he speaks is hypnotic.

“I will never hide my love for my country. Not after everything we have been through.” He says.

You smile reading between the lines. “I see that. And while I’m only a singer who has had her travel limited.” You admit. “I hope to perform across the world. Tell me the best Sokovian stage Baron and perhaps I will stand on it one day.” You say, aware of how eager you sound but know that it’s the truth.

The Colonel laughs like all wealthy men do when they hear the dreams of women, but the Baron does not. No, he looks at you as though you’ve just spoken your deepest desires aloud and he feels blessed to have heard them.

“One day, yes. Perhaps you will.” He says and you hope he doesn’t notice how your breath catches in your throat, but the way his eyes fix on yours makes you feel seen.

The three of you fall silent and you’re very aware of Colonel Fury watching the two of you. You see his coy smile from the corner of your eye and its clear that he thinks the Baron will have you down to your stockings by the days end, but nothing is further from the truth.

Baron Zemo doesn’t try to take your dress off, not even when you wander inside and into the library alone with him. Instead he listens to you tell stories about the parts of your life that are easy to share and with what seems to be genuine interest.

You tell him about your mother who was a singer before you, though she never made it to the big stage. You still send money home to her and your sweet father who is too sick to work but still manages to paint when he’s feeling up to it.

“So you are the product of true love.” He says and while there is an edge to his voice, he is not trying to tease. You feel him watching you touch the spines of the many books along the shelves in the dimly lit room.

“Why do you say that?” You ask, your back still to him.

“A singer and an artist who marry do it for no other reason.” He says, confident in his statement. You can hear the smile in his voice and your own grows across your face. Coming from anyone else this would be an insult. Coming from him, it turns your ordinary origins into something romantic.

“Love, with the hope of fame and money.” You correct with a smirk and find him over your shoulder.

He is standing in the light of the large south facing window and you have no choice but to turn and face him. It’s nearly unfair that any man should be so beautiful.

You’d noticed the way the other women in attendance looked at him in his exquisite jacket and vest, looking the very picture of fashionable victorian masculinity; and done without effort it would seem. Just his natural air of confidence. Honestly you’re convinced Zemo could make a workhouse uniform look like the kings cape.

What would those women do now, you wonder. With his brown hair looking almost black in the library shadows, so thick and pretty as it falls in his eyes in lovely contrast to his fair skin.

As the clouds part and a strong band of light breaks through the windows casting a warm glow over the man, you smile imagining the socialites batting their lashes and dipping into quaint curtsies to attract him, but it seems none can manage to take his eyes from you…

They would all say it’s because you’re a stage whore, a woman of ill repute with the gift of song. But they are wrong. They always are.

“Tell me Baron Zemo, how long did you say you’ll be staying” You ask crossing the room to step into the sun with him.

He looks down at you and you notice for the first time the flecks of gold in his eyes. “I must return at the end of August.”

“Oh.” You look away. It’s already June.

His body language changes a bit, like someone has splashed cold water over him and he goes stiff. Quickly as if desperate to do so, he takes hold of your hand which startles you as much as it excites you. You try not to let him see the way he’s made your own body respond but your heart threatens to leap from your chest.

“Would it be forward of me to ask you to join our small party for dinner this coming Saturday?”

Your eyes dart up finding such hope in his. “Not at all. So long as you understand what it is you’re asking?” You hate to turn the mood, it was so nice, but this needs to be said.

“What do you mean?”

“Well dinner with a performer of course. I suppose it could be seen as the Colonel’s kindness… but Baron please don’t tell me you’re so naive to the ways of the country you summer in.”

He gives you a curious frown “I forget where I am often. Your ways here will always be a little strange. You see in Sokovia, to possess a gift such as yours would see you walk among the people who look down on you here. We lift those better than ourselves up in my country.”

You feel light headed at the idea. Imagine being seen as important for what you are born with, and not for what you are born into. “It sounds wonderful.” You say, fully aware of how soft your voice is when you’re standing so close to him.

Him, this man you do not know. You pull your hand free from his.

Taking a step back you give a small curtsy. “I must go back, we have a few more songs to perform, but thank you for the walk, and for the invitation. I look forward to it!”

He smiles politely and offers to escort you, but you know better. No need ruining his reputation or starting rumors about your own.

You go back to the solarium and take up your place next to the piano and proceed to sing the heartbreaking aria that can decimate even the strongest of defenses.

Your eyes scan the room as you sing, finding hapless victims to serenade until finally you land on the Barron standing behind the rows of chairs.

The man is stricken by your words of love and loss and you think perhaps you could have warned him about your song.

When you find him again, it is an accident.

You’d gone off looking for your pianist when you find the Baron standing alone in the garden just off the parlor.

You almost speak but notice the way he stands there without moving. He is looking down at a bush of flowers; large white Lillies.

You brace against the doorframe and lean in to watch him for a moment before you realize… he raises his hand and wipes a tear before slipping it back into his pocket.

Tears over flowers? No. Not flowers, and then you understand. The war you know nothing of, took everything from him.

You feel guilty. Of all the songs you had to sing you chose the one that could break a healthy heart, what had it done to this shattered thing probably held together by nothing more than string and sheer determination.

Your own ached for him and you’d never longed to hold anything or anyone so much in your life, but you did not know him yet and quietly slipped back inside.

Your last interaction with the Baron that afternoon had been no more than a sweet goodbye, but your thoughts are preoccupied with him over the week.

You find your self thinking of the way he’d touched your shoulder while you dress for your performances, and onstage when you shut your eyes you see his looking back at you, golden in the sun.

When Saturday comes around, you ignore the teasing of your best friend Brigitte who watches the way you’re fussing over your hair and pinching your cheeks after dressing in the small apartment you share with her over the theatre. Thankfully no one keeps watch over the costumes and so you wear the pale yellow dress from last years production that you think looks best against your skin.

Brigitte asks if he’s proposed yet just to set you off, but only because she’s never seen you nervous, but then she’s never seen you so excited over a man. Presumably because none has ever managed to hold your attention for so long.

The carriage arrives to pick you up and you try desperately not to be won over by the fact that he’s sent his own.

You know that it is his.

You run your hand along the silk lined walls, inhaling deeply, picking up the faintest scent of his cologne as you sink into the seat. Your smile grows wide with no one there to see as the driver sitting high above steers the horses through the city streets, the light jostle inside keeping you alert as you imagine the Baron standing at the threshold of the estate waiting for you. It begins to feel wonderfully indecent to be surrounded by him so intimately.

And what would it feel like if he really did hold  you close? Would it feel this warm and safe? Would you rest in his arms as you do his carriage, rushing past the world feeling untouchable?

Your eyes close for a moment; you are lost in a sea of daydreams until a wheel hits a large hole that jolts you back to reality.  Eyes going wide, you quickly blow out the tension built up in your chest through your lips and shake you head trying not to smile.  The man has held your hand one time old girl. Calm down!

You are still flushed and breathing hard when you arrive. When you see Baron Zemo waiting for you in the hall of the estate, in his dinner jacket and tie, you feel as though he knows every indecent thought you had on that incredible ride through town. If he does however, the Baron does not humiliate you, only showers you with complements on your appearance tonight.

And though the night is perfection, dinner in the city would not be dinner without a scandal. And so it goes that yours is candlelit and ripe for the pamphlets.

Colonel and Lady treat you as their guest of honor, though it is the Baron who attracts the attention of the others in attendance.

As he escorts you to the dining room, Baron Zemo dares to whisper in your ear. “If I could have entertained you and you alone, I would have made it so. But this is —not allowed —on these foreign shores.” He says and you see the way his dark gaze fixes ahead. You aren’t sure if it is Lord or Lady who earns his contempt but all you can do is hold back your laughter.

“It’s perfectly fine. The rules are there for them, so long as I am in their world I will play along. To be perfectly honest Baron… ” You look up at him in the door way and he lays his hand over yours, resting in the crook of his elbow. “This is exquisite.” You say. He smiles looking a little relieved and you notice that he’s been watching your lips as you speak and you feel yourself blush.

That however is not the moment to cause the scandal. Nor does it come from the Baron expressing his rather progressive views which he offers up like a complement to the soup course. It comes when he asks your opinion and you, shock of all shocks, give it.

The Lady Hawthorn who is also in attendance tries to cut you off, but the Baron hushes her and urges you to go on.

With him backing you, you find yourself feeling quite free to express your desire to see all people treated equally, and end your monologue by announcing that you know such a utopia could never exist so long as the wealthy are pleased and the poor too overworked to notice. This sends the Lady over the edge and Fury into a fit of laughter.

Only Baron Zemo hears the truth and he looks at you through the deep yellow glow of candlelight with pride.

Unfortunately that, is not what they print.

Rising star flies too close to the sun

“What a ridiculous thing to say” You huff carrying an armful of gowns over to the mirror in the little dressing area of your apartment.

“Maybe, but you’ll sing to a packed house tonight” Brigitte grins as she lounges on the settee in the middle of the small but colorfully decorated room. “The audience loves a spectacle.” Her French accent makes everything sound cute but it is nothing short of annoying in the moment.

“It’s hardly a spectacle Brigitte. Just bored, sad, empty headed people with nothing better to do than twist your well thought out words and opinions. My, well thought out words and opinions.” You speak with conviction while trying to ignore the sinking sense of embarrassment as you hold each dress up over your underclothes, one at a time. You are angry of course, those damned pamphlets are nothing more than a way for them to openly indulge in gossip and cruelty about you and your kind. Granted you’re not above reading them from time to time and this isn’t the first experience you’ve had with being a feature (poor Lord Quinn. He did fall in love so easily) but this is the first time that you care.

“You’re quite the radical aren’t you.” Brigitte says sitting up and sipping her tonic.

“Yes, a woman with an opinion, how will the world move on.” You roll your eyes and sling the yellow dress aside.

“Those aren’t costumes.” Brigitte says suspiciously and sits up on her knees, her arms hanging over the back of the sofa.

You look at her in the mirror and sigh. “No. I can’t keep borrowing them and besides, these aren’t for the stage.”

She’s waiting but you hesitate. “Tell me! Who are they for? It’s him right? Your Baron.”

“He isn’t mine.” You scold. “But yes, Baron Zemo has asked me to accompany him to the festival tomorrow night, and…” You pause glancing at yourself in the mirror. “I’ve said yes.”

“Of course you have, silly girl.” Brigitte giggles and gets up, coming over to you. She stands at your back, her long elegant fingers resting on your shoulders. She presses her cheek to yours and you feel the swell of love for your oldest friend rise.

The two of you have been through so much together. From escaping the cruel and often times corporal punishment of St. Augustine’s school for girls, to the deadly grasp of the streets. You’d been fighting along side one another until you both managed to sing your way onto the stage.

While Brigitte is technically better, you’re the one who sings with heart and that small edge is why your likeness will hang from the posts and not hers, but she is your friend in all things and as you gain notoriety, you have every intention of bringing her right along with you.

“I don’t know why I think anything will come of it. He’s a Baron for goodness sake.” You say scrunching your nose up at the lavender dress.

Brigitte is waiting, knowing you’ll answer your own suspicions.

“But, he looks at me and it’s as though these barriers don’t exist. I might as well be the daughter of a Duke when he smiles.”

“In his eyes, perhaps you are.” She says kindly. “Now, put those dresses away, you’ll wear my white one and look nothing less than angelic tomorrow. Tonight, you’ll sing like one and win your place in the Barons heart for good.”

As fate would have it, Baron Zemo was not at the performance last night. It means nothing though, that much is clear. He is as taken with you as you almost allow yourself to be with him. It is a dangerous game you play, one that could see you broken by the end of summer, but it is so hard to stay away…

You stroll causally behind The Colonel and Lady Fury through the park grounds along the pea gravel paths lit by paper lanterns with sparks flying from swirling machines and flames that shoot up from small bonfires.

Brigitte and your friend Eloise are bringing up the rear, but it feels as though there isn’t another soul alive. Just you and him and the beautiful menagerie that surrounds you.

The festival is one you’ve heard of but never attended and you’re almost happy you never have because as far as firsts go this one is magic.

A show of sight and sound engages every sense. There are acrobats, jugglers, stilt walkers and sword swallowers. You smell the food being sold from small carts and hear the music of the far off bandstand. You have a hard time not running around like a child as you point and shriek at the shocking, and squeal with delight at the fun. Each beautiful display of oddities and wonder that seem to never phase the Baron amaze you, though he does take great joy in watching your reaction.

When a fire breather spits yellow flames in your path, you jump back with a scream grabbing Zemo’s arm which makes him laugh.

You’re suddenly aware of how jovial his voice can be and when you look up, he smiles like you’ve never seen before and closes his hand over yours.

You think he might let go, but instead he begins to walk again, happy to keep you close.

You take in the sights on either side of the lawn, until it all begins to feel like a dream. Perhaps it was the champagne you had on arrival…

“Thank you my Lord, I’ll never forget this night.” You say under the cover of a trellis dripping with wisteria just outside of the wonderful chaos.

“It has been quite the show” He says looking back at the distant festivities before settling on you again. He quickly takes off his black topper, his hair falling into his eyes. “Unlike anything I’ve ever seen” He says looking at you with such an intensity that you can not hold the eye contact. You smile and look away spotting a servant with a large tray of champagne stacked like a pyramid of glowing gold.

Baron Zemo sees how you look at it and waves him over, taking two glasses from the top giving one to you, and raising his glass in salute.

“What do we drink to?” You ask.

Zemo thinks while looking into your eyes. Finally he raises the glass a little higher. “To the continuation of our friendship.”

You feel your cheeks flush and your mouth go a little dry. To declare a friendship between you is something you almost wish he wouldn’t say, but, it’s already been done. Still, what future can there truly be, you wonder looking up at this man who, had you been born into a wealthy family would have been yours weeks ago. But then, something about the Baron tells you not to fixate on what could have been, and to always expect the unexpected.

The sound of your glasses clinking is drown out by the boom of fireworks in the distance.

You tip your glass and drink. The champagne is sweet and cold and bubbly. You swallow with a smile only to shut your eyes when he strokes your cheek with the back of his hand, his thumb daring to glide across your bottom lip.

You inhale the moment and open your eyes to find his wanting, but not here. Not yet.

“To our future.” You say, needing him to know that you wish to push forward.

The Baron nods and takes another drink, watching you do the same over his glass. “I must insist on seeing you again, you understand?” He asks as he finishes.

“Yes of course.” You say. “I have one week, and then the show continues.” You tell him feeling sorry for it. It’s not easy to balance a life on and off the stage, in fact you’ve never really had too before, but for him you will try.

“A week.” He says it with finality. “Then let us have this week as our own.”

The next few days are a whirlwind of unforgettable moments. You are convinced any other man would be trying to impress you with his knowledge and access to things privy only to someone of his status, but with the Baron it feels as though he simply enjoys sharing his world.

From a private showing of the Kings’ collection of antiquities, to a small garden reading by one of your favorite authors who Baron Zemo happens to know personally, you spend your time together as near equals, exchanging ideas and thoughts as easily as you would with your oldest friends. It surprises you to find it so easy to speak to a man you’re only just starting to know.

Perhaps that is because he never once reminds you of the gap between your status. You are cautious to believe anything a man of such wealth says, but when the Baron speaks he seems to do so truthfully, and when he listens, he does so without judgement.

“How is it my Lord, that you seem to rise above the constraints of society while moving through it so elegantly?” You ask as he escorts you home to the theatre one evening.

You are arm in arm, the lamps are lit and the air has a certain joie de vivre that radiates from the passersby. You smile and nod hello to a couple before looking up at the Baron’s handsome profile. He walks in silence for a while and you know him well enough by now to understand that he is just thinking before speaking, which is something you greatly admire.

“I hope my manner is not offensive.” He says with a deep frown. “I simply wish to be as honest with you as possible. To pretend that I see you as someone unworthy of my attention would be a lie.”

You turn your face to hide your giddy smile but he stops walking, your hand slipping from his coat.

Confused, you spin to face him. “Baron? What is it?”

“Do not hide.” He says in all seriousness. “Your face, it’s so expressive. There is such an openness in the way you show your emotion and I fear someone has told you to keep it hidden?” He asks and you avert your eyes instinctively but quickly look back up at him.

Feeling sure, you confess. “When my parents were too poor to keep me, I was sent to Augustines as I’ve mentioned. It was there I was taught that to show joy is a sin. To cry is a sin, to be angry is a sin. Frustration, even a simple smile, all sins. Everything beautiful about who we are as living creatures must be suppressed” You say, still bitter.

The Baron scoffs shaking his head. “Nothing is a sin when you stop believing that there is someone to sin against. Your smile is a gift mala ptica, a glimpse at your pure heart, just as your tears are an expression of the pain you feel inside. People can be very cruel, and I am sorry you were ever told such lies.” He says and you see that it truly hurts him to picture you as a child, scolded for what comes naturally. “Please, do not feel as though you ever need to hide either from me. If I am the reason you smile, then I consider myself to be a fortunate man.” He pauses, looking at you as people pass by. “Conversely If I ever make you cry, well, the pain of hurting you will be my deserved punishment.” He says and though you stand apart on the dark sidewalk, you feel the warmth of his affection reach out and close its arms around you, holding you close enough that you can hear the drumming of his heart.

The week ends with a picnic, just a small luncheon taken outside with all the delightful indulgence of the spoiled upperclass.

You sit at the edge of a large blanket, covered by a spread of fruit and cheese and bread. There are biscuits and cakes, small sandwiches and of course tea— and what looks to be chopped pheasant being carried out by a young servant all the way from the house. You are thankful for the shade of the ancient tree you sit under with the women; Lady Valentina, her neighbor, who has brought her daughter-in-law, and their two cousins, all of you laughing as the men play a lazy but entertaining game of rugby in their shirts, their jackets thrown down in the grass.

You applaud for the Baron and Lord Wessex the neighbor’s son who has come home for a quick visit with his wife. They make a great team, and though the Baron insists he’s too old for sport—which he is most certainly not— he is fast and strong and shows just a glimpse of the man he must have been during the war.

“He cuts quite the figure.” One of the cousins says to the other with a wicked little grin.

You eye her prim face, almost jealous but the energy would be wasted. You know who he smiles at as he crosses the lawn.

“Yes, but I hear he’s engaged.” Says the other

“Oh? To who? Certainly not to anyone here.” Lady Valentina says sipping from her cup.

You are silent as you watch these women who you know in name only. You don’t know their hearts, but you guess them to be as cold as the pheasant.

“No. A Sokovian Duchess I believe.” The cousin says and you stare at her.

“Then why on earth is he here?” The daughter-in-law asks.

“Must not be a very happy engagement.” The cousin says, her tittering laughter joined by the others.

You smile but set your tea down and look over, watching Baron Zemo toss the large ball across the lawn to his partner. He trots backwards and calls something out, clapping a few times before stopping and resting his hands on his knees. As though he can sense your eyes on him, he looks over from his bent position, that lock of hair fallen out of place.

He told you just a day or so ago to never hide your feelings from him, and so you don’t. Honestly, given what you’ve just heard, you couldn’t if you tried.

You can only imagine how you must look because he stands upright, rakes his hair back with his fingers and stares at you, his own face long, his jaw tight.

He knows something has happened. Immediately the Baron calls for a break in the game.

You look away eyeing the women. “Please, excuse me. I believe my legs are going a little numb.” You shrug, feigning a smile at the ladies and quickly get up, brushing your skirts and walking off.

“Poor circulation from all that time standing onstage.” You hear one of them say.

“And lying on her back” Another whispers loudly to the shocked laughter of the others.

The insult stings, more so than it normally would, and you shut your eyes as you march off towards the house ready to leave.

Of course they think you’re just here playing the whore to the rakish Baron. Why you ever thought they would accept you as their own or that he would be better than the rest is beyond you.

But what truly shames you, is that you believe their gossip, even after spending time with him. And why shouldn’t you? Isn’t this what men do? Lie? Especially to women of your profession.

It’s when you’ve reached the manicured part of the lawn that you realize you’re hardly breathing and that your heart feels like it’s been run through with one of the picnic bread knives. You clutch your chest, angry at the pain as the tears that well in your eyes burn, and you curse yourself for letting him have such an effect on you at all.

“Wait.”

You gasp, startled by his voice vibrating deep in your own chest as he has come up on you by surprise; his body so close to yours you feel his breath along your neck as he takes you by the arms and pulls you into the shaded privacy of the garden trees before you can protest.

He turns you around and the look on his face is a mix of curiosity and worry, to which you find yourself surprisingly angry. “What’s happened? What have they said to you?” He asks.

“What’s wrong Baron? Are you worried that I’ve found out?” You ask and move to wipe your eyes, but you let him see, just as he’s insisted.

“Found out? mala ptica, I don’t know what you mean.”

“Don’t you?”

He just stares down and you realize you’ve never seen him confused before. “Baron? What do you think they said?”

“Some insult? A way to make you feel inferior as seems to be their casual form of amusement.” He says clearly very angry and possibly ready to march back and defend you.

You feel your anger falter. This is unexpected and you shake your head. Now you’re the one confused. “No. Baron… I—I’m afraid I’ve made something of a fool of myself if you truly have no fear of any secret being found out?” Your voice rises as you question it.

“You are not a fool y/n” He says with a hint of irritation in his voice.

You look down, steadying yourself before looking back up into his eyes. “I never expected anything from you, you know? Your friendship has been nothing short of wonderful, but I fear that in getting to know you, I’ve found it impossible not to let my romantic heart lead the way. But what can we expect from a product of love.” You toss your hands up flashing a sardonic smile.

The Baron steps forward and your eyes close reflexively when he lays his palm to your cheek. “What have you heard? Tell me.”

“That you are engaged.” You answer not wanting to prolong it. “To a Sokovian Duchess no less.”

He smiles, looks off then back down at you and you hope he never stops the gentle, rhythmic stroking of your face. “I was, and it was a mistake. I broke it off before I doomed us both to a loveless marriage.”

“I was under the assumption that people of your wealth marry to acquire more of it.”

“You assume wrong.” He says even closer “It is beneficial, but, should I ever marry again, it will be for nothing less than a love to repair what is left of my heart.”

You’re breathing faster. He is so close. It seems to happen so quickly. One moment you’re ready to leave, angry and hating that you’ve even come, embarrassed that you’ve been swayed by a Lords influence. And the next you’re standing in his shadow gazing up into his eyes…

“May I kiss you?” He asks in a way that would be very hard to refuse.

“You may” You whisper. His fingers inch along to the back of your head, his other hand pulls you in by the waist until his hips are pressed against you and his lips part; the heat of his skin so warm from running touching you before his mouth does.

It is the force and passion of his kiss that surprises you. Not overly aggressive or unwanted, it is unexpected, as though he has been longing to do this as badly as you have and now, he can not let another second pass without tasting more of you.

His tongue on your own is warm and soft as he gently enters your mouth and it is not the demure touch of society but of two people who feel a great many things, not the least of which is an urgency to do more.

The Baron pulls away, your lips leaving his slowly. You look at your hands resting on his chest over his white shirt. His cravat is a little askew letting you see a hint of skin and the shimmer of a very thin necklace that makes your stomach flutter. Your eyes flit up to meet his as he exhales very slowly.

“Thank you mala ptica” He says and kisses your forehead and you think there are many reasons for him to say this, but for now you let it be, though something else has always made you wonder…

“What does that mean?” You ask curious, eyes closed

He leans back to see your face. “What?”

“Mala… mala ti..”

“Mala ptica” He says with an amused smile. “It means—little bird actually.”

You scrunch your nose wondering why this is what he’s taken too calling you and he chuckles a little with a sigh. “Your voice is like the song of a bird, a thing of natural beauty. Forgive me for having been so familiar. It—slipped out.” He says simply.

You grin, you can’t help it and close your hands to fists in his shirt and pull him down kissing him again.

It is hard and fast but he is a most willing partner.

When you let the Baron go, you bite at the corner of your lip feeling such an urge to go down to the cool grass with him here and now, understanding why everyone seems so preoccupied by it, but the truth is no man has had you and you refuse to be the woman they expect you to be. You will not succumb, not even for a Baron, not even for this one. But he will challenge you to no end.

He smooths his hands over your face and sighs. “What now hmm?”

You mimic his movements smoothing the wrinkles you’ve caused in his shirt. “I can not go back. I don’t belong here.” You tell him.

He takes hold of your hand on his chest and holds it there. “No, I don’t believe I do either. Not today.”

“My next run begins in two days, I won’t have time to go on so many adventures with you.” You smile.

Zemo pulls your hand down but does not let go. “Then I will wait until you are free to enjoy the rest of the season with me.”

“Will you?”

“Of course.”

“It’s almost over my Lord, you’re going home at the end of summer.”

“Yes,” He says and tilts his head to find your eyes. You look at him and smile wide. “But perhaps I might persuade you to come with me.”

[bloodredx]

Day 4: Medicine

It had been centuries since she first took up the practice, and if anyone knew the truth, one might argue that Lady Serena had invented the concept of modern medicine in Glacidea. She of course, would deny that if pressed, but fortunately no one would know to bring up the claim in the first place. One would just need to take one look around her office’s “collection of antique medical equipment” to see how things have changed over the years. Of course, these were really just a collection of favorite tools she herself used, some more delicate than others. Still, even knowing the good memories of helping people, saving lives, and removing pain from those who so desperately needed the care, the lingering knowledge of death would forever chase her.

Perhaps when she was younger, and felt more guilt over her position in unlife, particularly over the damage she had past caused, that death’s hand being right next to her own would have made her quiver. No longer, for Serena was now quite confident with the fact that Adamsa Frisay often accompanied her on her lonely walks down the hospital’s hallways. The God of the End was the most mysterious of the pantheon, but that never changed the sad kinship she felt when reflecting upon that inevitability, even for herself. Though she’d been plenty successful in not meeting him just yet.

Still, she was no god. And no matter what, people died. Her eyes scanned the test results quickly, keeping pace with the strip of paper the blood chemistry machine was printing out. “Lymphocytes dangerously low…” The doctor pulled up her patient’s chart as she remained unsurprised. His blood smelled that way, even as she loaded it into the machine. “Ketone high as well. Just into the brink of acidosis.”

The Lady took a sip from a coffee mug, cheekily printed with a label to “Donate Blood!” Of course the substance within was the result of such generosity, but the taste of good blood still didn’t overpower the smell of her patient’s blood. “Creatinine is also sky rocketing.” She tutted her tongue as she made notes in her precise cursive.

Icarus, who never felt truly comfortable in the lab, seemed able to put aside his general discomfort for once to take interest in his mentor’s work for once. “Do you always talk to yourself this much while working?”

Serena shot him a look with targeted precision. “Does it bother you?”

Her ward nearly recoiled, lifting his hands in defense. “Not at all. I meant to ask, does it help you?”

“Organize my thoughts, yes. I suppose it’s more routine at this point.” She laid her pen down on the counter, and pulled the read out of results from the printer. Another sip of her mug as she crinkled her nose. “Does the smell not bother you?”

“Of that man’s blood?” Icarus raised his brow. “A little, now that you mention it. But it’s still so intoxicating in any other way.”

“Hmm.” Serena noted his response before turning to face him, a stern expression on her face.

“What’s wrong with him?”

“He’s dying.” She took another measured sip of blood. “Critical failure of his kidneys and liver to an extent that he would not survive the wait list for a transplant. For either organ.”

Though it had been years that he’d known the Lady now, her bluntness never sat easy with him. Even more so at the weight for a potential death. “Anything you can do?”

“An ignorant question.” She concluded quickly. “There is much we can attempt, dialysis, intense regiments of drugs that would otherwise cause innumerable side effects to his overall quality of life. But the fact remains he was rolled into my ER unconscious and so affected by jaundice that even running these tests for a few minutes has cut off the effectiveness of any treatment by hours. Days even.”

“So you’ll let him die?” Icarus stood up, feeling heat coursing through his veins. Though he wasn’t sure what the cause was, certainly the Lady could be cruel, but she wasn’t heartless. At least not to that extent.

“Everyone dies, Icarus. Even us.” Her voice was icy, flat against the sterile lab environment. “But that being said, I have ideas of options for his family. Ultimately, that’s their choice, his fate. And you had best believe I’ll go through with any plan they approve to my best ability. I’ll move mountains, drain seas, and plug volcanos for them. But I am merely a medical tool, I can no better stop the inevitable than you can stop time eroding history.”

A silent standoff went off within Icarus’s mind. She was right on one level. But she did have other choices. One that most other doctors didn’t. “Have you ever thought about embracing someone?”

He regretted the question the second it left his lips, wincing reflexively to avoid the sour expression and lecture his mentor was sure about to bury him under. But after a few moments of extended quiet, he cracked an eyelid to see what stopped her from her relentless fury.

Instead of the traditional scowl, her face was heavy with an emotion he hadn’t seen on Serena. Was it sadness? Remorse? He couldn’t tell, but her lips frowned in a softer angle than he had seen before, and for once she had broken her near constant, near dominating eye contact. No, she was staring squarely at her own wrists, eyes following the too dark veins that crossed under her pale skin. She a drew a deep breath, one that both of them knew was unneeded, but still an element to any conversation, no matter the need of oxygen, before opening her mouth slowly to speak.

“I would love to lie to you and say no, it hasn’t.” A pause, unlike her. “But I am many things, a liar is not included amongst them.” A finger traced alongside the veins as she continued. “It would be very easy, the most perfect cure to illness, and a near perfect one to death entirely. And though I am quite content with my existence, I cannot find nor guarantee that anyone else would be. To be thrust upon bloodlust without even knowing it, to be so sick and nearly gone to meet the gods again, and then be thrown back to the world with such darkness taken within them. I cannot ordain such behavior.

“There was an opportunity long ago where I could have done so to save someone I loved above all else at the time, to change the entire history of my world. But I wouldn’t, no, couldn’t do it. And the world has never been the same for me since.” She stepped away from the counter, taking a few stride to where Icarus was sitting, all in order to place a calm hand on his shoulder. “I cannot ask someone to follow me to where I am, but I have thought of it. It’s almost a feature of the blood; that we make more of ourselves to survive. However, I only ask that if you come upon the chance to find yourself in my shoes, that you won’t fall back to the easy fix, the snake oil cure. Vampire blood does much, but it takes much more than it gives. Practice good medicine in all that you do. I would hope I’ve rubbed off enough on you to leave you with that guidance if nothing else.”

Icarus felt himself frown as he tracked the glow of light in her brown eyes. What could he say in response to that? Certainly nothing snippy as he normally would, no. Heaviness sat in the air a moment, lingering like cigar smoke before he broke her gaze. “Of course, Lady Serena. I won’t do anything to disappoint you.”

Her hand dropped down to his, lifting them to chest level as she squeezed them tightly. “I know you won’t.”

The tenderness struck him, but then again so did everything else about this exchange. And he knew a little bit better the exact person his mentor was. While he could do little in the nature of medicine that she could, he could at the very least go on with the same grip on existence. “You have a life to fight for.” He returned the squeeze to her hand before letting go with a little push.

Her normal features snapped back into place, resetting the scene as if it had never happened in the first place. “That I do. Please excuse me.”

(OC-tober challenge by @oc-growth-and-development can be found here)

[artificialqueens]

Level Up, Chapter Thirteen (Branjie) - Holtzmanns

“You know who this is?”

The boxer on Detox’s screen is pretty. Real pretty. Also one that Vanessa knows well, after watching videos upon videos of professional boxers that Brooke would send her for homework when she had first started training.

“Olivia Lux.”

Detox gives her an approving smile. “Ding ding ding. You know who else she is?”

“Who?”

“Your next opponent.”

Hold up.

“Wait, what?”

A/N: Hi, I'm still alive! Slowly but surely still working on this fic. If you're still here and reading and reviewing, I appreciate you tons. Hope you enjoy this chapter, things are starting to pick up. Thank you writ for betaing <3

Vanessa’s not sure what to expect when Brooke asks her to come to morning practice half an hour earlier than usual, but Detox in a bright yellow suit with her Louboutins dangling off the side of Brooke’s desk is the last on her list.

“Look who it is. The prodigal athlete herself,” Detox smiles as she flips her ponytail over her shoulder, and Vanessa can’t help but be impressed by her full face of makeup at six in the morning.

Brooke is an adorable contrast sitting next to Detox, the rumpled sweats and top knot pairing perfectly with the way she hides a yawn behind her hand. “I tried to get Detox to come by in the afternoon, I really did.”

“Please. I have a flight in two hours and a meeting in L.A. at two today with Serena,” Detox takes a sip of her coffee, her lipstick staining the edge of the paper cup. “This won’t take too much time, don’t worry.”

“Who’s Serena?” Vanessa can’t help the curiosity that brews in her chest with every word out of  Detox’s mouth.

“Williams, obviously. Who else?”

Vanessa whistles, shooting a look over to Brooke. “Damn.”

Detox has Serena Williams as a client? Serena Williams, one of the greatest female athletes of all time? How on earth did she agree to work with Vanessa, of all people?

Because of Brooke. Brooke, who’s currently resting her cheek on her palm as her eyes are fluttering while trying to stay awake.

“Anyway, it’s been a few months. We’re milking that meme of yours, it’s still going strong for now,” Detox hops off of the table, her heels clacking against the floor as she sidles up to Vanessa. “But it won't last forever.”

“Cool?” Vanessa’s not quite sure what Detox wants as an answer, really, though she doesn’t look too satisfied.

“Not cool. You need to keep the momentum going. Catch the low swinging vines while they’re still in reach,” Detox pulls out her phone, her eyes darting over the screen and Vanessa almost wants to climb on her tiptoes to take a peek, but then Detox turns her screen to face her. “You know who this is?”

The boxer on Detox’s screen is pretty. Real pretty. Also one that Vanessa knows well, after watching videos upon videos of professional boxers that Brooke would send her for homework when she had first started training.

“Olivia Lux.”

Detox gives her an approving smile. “Ding ding ding. You know who else she is?”

“Who?”

“Your next opponent.”

Hold up.

“Wait, what?”

Vanessa can’t help the panicked lilt in her voice as she takes a step back, her shoulder hitting the side of the doorframe. Brooke doesn’t look as freaked out as Vanessa feels, which makes no sense because Olivia Lux isn’t another run of the mill boxer. She’s a pro. One of the big ones. She’s at the same caliber that Brooke used to fight at. She has sponsorships and fans of her own, and a damn good left hook to boot. Good enough that she doesn’t even need a last name for everyone on the boxing scene to know who she is. The damn Beyonce of boxing.

How’s Vanessa supposed to fight her?

“This is how you’re going to keep yourself a household name. You’re entering the big leagues, kid."

“But...but…” Vanessa trails off, and maybe she’s fidgeting a little bit but she doesn’t exactly know what else to do, not when Brooke is looking perfectly calm about all of this.

“I’ll get in contact with Olivia’s agent and we’ll drum up some publicity, set up some interviews, get the internet buzzing. Should cause a spike in interest in you, no problem,” Detox types furiously on her phone as she stands up, twirling to face Vanessa. “What are you looking so terrified for?”

Vanessa can’t help but look at Detox as if she has two heads, because really, isn’t it obvious? “She’s gonna beat my ass up, that’s why! You want me to die on national tv for a second time?”

Vanessa’s already gone and humiliated herself enough. Facing someone like Olivia Lux right now sounds like an insane idea, it really does, when Olivia has a penchant for flashing her opponents a grin before absolutely pulverizing them.

“So dramatic,” Detox snorts, waving a hand airily. “I’ve seen your training videos and boxing matches. You’ll be just fine.”

“Fine?” Vanessa’s ready to launch into an explanation of how she’s not going to be fine, thank you very much, not with her level of skill but then there’s a hand over hers, and Brooke’s eyes looking at her all warm and comforting.

“It’s going to be your choice, whether or not you want to do this. Always your choice.” Brooke’s thumb rubs against Vanessa’s hand in small little circles and it slows her heart rate down just a bit, enough to keep it from taking flight. “But if my opinion matters, you definitely have the skills and drive to hold your own against Olivia. You’re better at this than you think you are.”

Vanessa lets out a shaky sigh. “Dunno about that.”

Sure, she can hold her own in the ring at an amateur level, in the easier tournaments where her competitors have a similar level of experience as she does. Someone like Olivia on the other hand, who’s trained for more than a decade and won enough belts to cement herself as a legend on the pro scene...Vanessa wants to cover herself in bubble wrap for protection at the mere thought of going up against her.

She really should have picked a sport like golf. Maybe bowling. Something a little less combat-filled if she has to go up against a pro.

“How about this,” Detox starts, standing up and pulling her trench coat over her shoulders, “give it a week. Think about it, decide, whatever. I’ll put some feelers out, and if you want to do it, we can get the ball rolling. If not, well, you’ll have to break into the professional scene some time or another, doll. Might as well do it at the peak of fame, no?”

“We’ll let her think about it,” Brooke cuts in before Vanessa even has to say anything at all, and she lets out a sigh of relief at the interlude.

Detox blows air kisses in their direction as she heads for the door, a perfect Hollywood caricature leaving in a cloud of perfume that makes Vanessa wrinkle her nose. Detox’s mere presence is an event in itself, one that Vanessa feels like she needs to catch her breath to recover from.

Brooke’s looking at her almost warily, her fingers tapping against the desk with a nervous energy. Quite bold for someone who’d probably do just fine against Olivia.

“D’you really think I’d be able to hold my own against her?” Vanessa finally gets out, because now that Detox isn’t here, Brooke will be honest with her, right? Not reassuring her just to look confident in front of Detox?

“Obviously,” Brooke says with an eyebrow-raise. “Like I said, you’re better than you think.”

“But that last match-”

“You think a pro boxer has never lost a match before?” Brooke asks, before letting out a sigh. “Boxing isn’t about how hard you can hit. It’s about how hard you can get hit and keep moving forward.”

Vanessa scoffs. “You did not just quote Rocky Balboa to me.”

“Sure did. And it’s true. You’ve lost a match. Cool. Fifty fifty chance of that happening. So how are you going to come back from it in the ring? Are you going to let it keep you from boxing again?”

“No, not that, I just…” Vanessa trails off, trying to search for the right words, “how am I supposed to fight against someone like Olivia? Or try and stage a comeback against a pro?”

Brooke’s lips curl up at the edges, a smile on her face that Vanessa doesn’t quite understand. “Y’know, you’re technically a pro.”

“What? No I’m not. Gassing me up like that ain’t gonna work,” Vanessa scoffs, crossing her arms, but Brooke looks unfazed.

“The definition of a ‘pro’ encompasses someone who has sponsors, who accepts prize money. You’re there, aren’t you? Or did I imagine the billboard of you outside my subway station this morning?”

“Another one?” Vanessa squeaks out, because Jesus Christ. Detox never rests.

“You’re already a pro. And your skill level is rising to catch up with you, too. I really think we can get you to be a solid threat to her, Ness, I really do.”

The sincerity in Brooke’s eyes is almost jarring in a way, because Vanessa knows she’s not joking. Not that she’d joke about something like this, but...still. Brooke believes her own words.

“And you’re really not just saying that?” Vanessa mumbles, because it doesn’t hurt to check one more time just in case she’s going to change her answer.

“I’m really not. Like I said, you’re better than you think you are.” Brooke, to her credit, isn’t looking exasperated with her, despite earning the right to be, and instead, she smiles. “And if you really want to increase your chances of winning, I can always push you a tad harder in the gym, make your conditioning and strength workouts even more intense. Is this your way of asking for it?”

“Now hold on just a second,” Vanessa squeaks, holding both of her hands up in front of herself. “I’m a little too young to experience a heart attack. Still got a baby face and all.”

“You know, I bet Olivia’s pushing herself in the gym right this second,” Brooke says lightly, her smile growing when Vanessa huffs and crosses her arms.

“Well, when you say it like that-”

“Atta girl. Now come on,” Brooke says, sliding herself off of her desk and holding out her hands to Vanessa. “Time to sweat.”

“Lord, have mercy.”

Time is malleable in the professional sports world.

The seconds in between a knockout and the referee making the call can feel like hours, meanwhile months of training can feel like a whirlwind in preparation for a match that creeps up all too soon. Brooke is not sure how two months have passed since Vanessa’s signed on for the fight with Olivia Lux, how their training plan is reaching the peak in anticipation of the match that’s now only a few days away. Vanessa’s everywhere, across from her in the gym and on the advertisements lining the subway cars on her ride home. She’s there when Brooke closes her eyes to sleep and pictures drills in her head that she’ll try out the next morning in practice, and she’s also floating in Brooke’s consciousness when she’s yanked from her dream at 4:30 am by the alarm she’s set to get to the airport on time.

Their flight to L.A is this morning. The match against Olivia is tomorrow. Brooke’s certain that Vanessa’s more ready than she’ll ever be, if her grit at yesterday’s practice is anything to go by.

So why does Brooke’s chest feel full of knots?

The knots loosen a tad when she sees Vanessa stumble out of her apartment building in a losing battle with her suitcase handle, as the sun casts pinks and oranges along the sidewalk. Brooke hops out of the Uber that they’re sharing to the airport to help Vanessa haul the suitcase into the trunk beside her own, and the smile that Vanessa shoots her warms her up on the inside, despite the chilly morning bite in the air.

“Now tell me why we couldn’t book a respectable flight in the afternoon? Why the hell are we leaving at the ass crack of dawn?” Vanessa asks behind a yawn as the car starts to move, and Brooke lets out one of her own.

“Because we need time to drop things off at the hotel, and fit in a training session before weigh-in and media this afternoon, and not to mention heading to bed on time to get a good night’s sleep before the match tomorrow-”

“Oh, I’ll get a good night’s sleep after waking up this damn early, I’ll tell you that,” Vanessa grumbles as she rubs her eyes, and Brooke has to hold back a laugh when she tugs her hoodie over her head.

“Aren’t you used to waking up early for practice, anyway? This is only a couple of hours more.”

“I need every minute of beauty sleep I can get, with all those interviews Detox lined up for today,” Vanessa mutters. “You’d think this was the royal wedding or some shit. Two boxers, united in holy ass kicking, on this beautiful autumnal afternoon-”

“That’s the spirit,” Brooke snorts, leaning back in her seat.

There’s something about Vanessa’s presence that always soothes the nerves tingling along her spine, slowing down the thoughts in her brain that run too fast while on autopilot. Just a smile and a wisecrack from under Vanessa’s breath is enough to let Brooke exhale and relax her previously tensed posture. Even when Vanessa doesn’t believe it herself, she has the tendency to reassure Brooke that everything is going to work out. Or at least, as much that can be worked out when partaking in a pro fight for the first time.

Despite the unspoken pressure of what’s to come Vanessa’s still grinning, quips rolling off of her tongue that make Brooke crack up and cause the other passengers in the terminal’s waiting area to shoot them dirty looks. It doesn’t stop as they board the flight either, if Vanessa’s woop of excitement as they reach their seats is anything to go by.

“You mean to tell me Detox booked us in first class? Bitch, I ain’t ever even sat in Economy Plus before. Shit.”

“Perks of becoming a meme, huh?” Brooke asks, storing her carry-on in the overhead compartment.

“I feel bougie as hell now,” Vanessa whistles, though lets out a huff when the shelf is too high for her to slide her own carry-on bag into place.

Brooke grins, plucking the bag from her grip and pushing it in for her. “You didn’t feel bougie when Prada sent you a PR package last week?”

“Nah, but this is different, y’know? One of those things you always hope to eventually do, even when it feels far fetched. This makes it more real.”

Brooke gets it. She remembers first experiencing the perks of her dad’s success - the sponsorships, the connections, their move from their tiny apartment to a penthouse suite. It was the little things at the time that had made it feel real - like the fact that her dad had stopped buying the value brand juice boxes for Brooke’s lunches, and instead went for the kool-aid jammers that everyone else in her class was bringing in. The smaller, minute differences felt more significant, in a way, with the larger changes in their lives at the time more of a fever dream.

“What’re you gonna watch?” Vanessa asks, thumbing through the entertainment display on the seat in front of her. “I’m thinking Toddlers and Tiaras.”

“Seriously?” Brooke asks, raising an eyebrow on the overly hairsprayed child displayed on Vanessa’s screen. “That show freaks me out.”

Vanessa shrugs, crossing her legs on her seat. “That’s the beauty of it. Can’t tear your eyes from the car wreck.”

“I’m gonna stick with Nashville, I’m already in the middle of a rewatch, so may as well keep going,” Brooke shrugs.

“Ain’t that the show on country music? Lord Jesus, you are so white,” Vanessa shakes her head, tutting under her breath.

Brooke scoffs, crossing her arms. “It’s a good show! You can’t talk, not when you’re watching toddlers with spray tans.”

For as much as Vanessa defends her choice of show, she doesn’t watch much of it, not when Brooke notices her eyes slipping closed and her head starting to lean forward before jerking backwards every so often. The déjà vu that flares in Brooke’s chest when Vanessa’s head settles onto her shoulder is inevitable, when the movement mirrors their trip to that fateful tournament where Vanessa’s boxing journey completely changed trajectories. In a way, some things still haven’t changed - the way Vanessa’s eyelids flutter as she sleeps, the soft rise and fall of her chest. Vanessa snuggles in even more against her shoulder as she mumbles under her breath, and the wave of affection that goes over Brooke is the same as what it would have been on the way to that tournament.

She has to ignore Yvie’s knowing words that worm their way into her brain, the ones that have become more and more prevalent over the last few months - you’re into her, she’s into you, why don’t you just tell her how you feel? It’s that easy, and you won’t have to mope anymore. The words that she always scoffs out whenever Brooke has a faraway look on her face, or after Vanessa leaves their apartment after another movie night. Yvie’s perceptive, a little bit too perceptive for her own good, because she’s seeing things that shouldn’t even be there.

Brooke isn’t into Vanessa, because she can’t be. What kind of predatory coach falls for their student?

The way her heart flutters when Vanessa smiles at her is irrelevant, as is the way that she always puts on Beyoncé for their morning warm up just to make Vanessa happy. It doesn’t matter.

Because any coach would do everything in their power to make their athlete happy. It doesn’t mean anything more.

Besides, Vanessa doesn’t feel the same way. Not when her smile lights up her face with everyone she meets, not when her banter and jokes are the same with Brooke as they are with her other friends. She’s friendly and considerate and perfect because that’s just who she is, not because she has feelings.

Yvie’s often wrong, anyway.

Though it doesn’t stop Brooke from imagining what things would be like if she could press a kiss to Vanessa’s temple as she sleeps, or maybe rub small circles onto her palm with her thumb. Provide that reassurance for the fight ahead even while she’s asleep, keeping an eye out for her the way she deserves. Wrapping her arms around her at night because they can share a bed rather than have separate rooms and hey, Brooke would definitely sleep better if Vanessa was in her arms because she felt the same way and-

No.

She can’t.

Thoughts like that aren’t helpful, not when they have no realistic way of happening. Besides, Vanessa’s type is probably more towards the male athletes at the gym. She’s never indicated anything to the contrary, no matter what Yvie says.

Brooke really needs to stop her brain from running full steam ahead with unlikely scenarios that’ll stay fictional forever. Besides, there’s a fight to focus on. One that’ll be the biggest of Vanessa’s life so far. It would be selfish of Brooke to derail it because her heart flutters a little more than it should when Vanessa smiles at her, or speaks in that soft voice that she only uses when she’s feeling pensive, or-

Christ.

The pilot overhead announcing the impending descent and landing is almost a blessing, because it causes Vanessa to stir against her shoulder and Brooke can push away the idiotic thoughts threatening to take over her consciousness, and instead focus on how cute Vanessa looks when she’s blinking away sleep.

“We here already? That flight was five minutes long, max.”

“That’s what happens when you sleep the entire journey,” Brooke murmurs, resisting the urge to tuck a loose lock of hair behind Vanessa’s ear.

Vanessa yawns. “You make a good pillow. I swear, I slept like a baby. You take reservations for that shoulder, at all?”

“What, you want to rent it out to sleep on? That’ll cost you way extra,” Brooke replies, ignoring the longing in her chest that would gladly let Vanessa rest on her any time she wanted.

“I got venmo and cash app. Your choice,” Vanessa giggles, leaning back against her seat. “It’s part of coaching duties and all, isn’t it?”

“Yeah. Coaching duties,” Brooke mumbles.

That’s all it is. It can’t be anything more, not when the chance of it ever happening is close to zero.

Brooke really needs to go back to thinking like a coach.

“Why don’t we live in L.A? We could go to the beach after practice every day if we wanted to,” Vanessa huffs out between breaths, before taking a swig from her water bottle.

The view of the parking lot from the hotel’s fitness room is a far cry from the ocean, but Vanessa remembers seeing a sign during their Uber ride earlier today indicating that they were near a beach. A girl can fantasize.

Brooke drops her hands, her boxing pads swinging slightly. “Two words: L.A. traffic. You’d also miss your mom and sister way too much.”

“I’ll give you that,” Vanessa concedes. “My sister? Nah. My mom, though? Neither of us would cope without each other fifteen minutes away.”

“I think that’s sweet, though,” Brooke smiles, before lifting her pads back up, an unspoken signal for Vanessa to go for another round. “It’s nice that you two are so close.”

“Yeah, until she’s poking around my apartment and folding the clothes piled on the chair in my room, and going on about ‘ay, Vanessa, you’ve folded your socks all wrong and did you call your Tia Luisa for her birthday yet? And don’t forget about dinner next Friday, you better bring the tostones because there’s no way I’m cooking absolutely everything, okay?’”  Vanessa tops off her impression with a snap of her fingers. “Nah, I love it, though.”

She really does. It’s nice, the way her and Alexis and her mom have remained such a close family unit, through everything. As much as Vanessa huffs and puffs when her mom begins a lecture two minutes after entering her apartment, she truly doesn’t mind.

“It means she cares,” Brooke grins. “C’mon, one more round and we’re done for the day.”

“Are you sure? Ain’t it not enough?” Vanessa asks, and she doesn’t mean to let her voice waver the way it does, but Brooke gives her that knowing look and grabs her shoulders in a way that tells Vanessa that she’s definitely noticed.

“What have we been doing for the past few months, hm?” Brooke raises an eyebrow, and Vanessa has to resist the urge to huff.

“Training.”

“And how many hours a day have we been training?”

“A fuck ton.”

“That’s what I thought,” Brooke shrugs, before her eyes soften just a tad. “You’re ready, okay? Even past the physical part of it. Do you think I’d make you write an analysis on Olivia’s fighting techniques just for fun?”

“I still can’t believe you made me do that,” Vanessa replies, wrinkling her nose. “I wasn’t my English teacher’s favourite in high school, lemme tell you that.”

At least Brooke hadn’t minded when Vanessa started her so-called paper with ‘let me tell you something,' or when she threw in some barbs about the weaknesses in Olivia’s fighting techniques.

“It did help though, I can’t lie,” Vanessa concedes. “Watching so many of her fights and breaking everything down.”

“You know how often I go on about boxing being as mental as it is physical,” Brooke shrugs. “No point in going into a fight without a plan. We’ve planned for months. You’ve worked on this plan for months. Do you really think you aren’t ready?”

Vanessa sighs. “It’s not that, I just…” she trails off, slumping slightly as the words she’s been trying to shove out of her brain fight their way to the forefront. “What if I lose?”

She’d lost her most recent match and became a meme as a result. What if her so-called career as a pro will be nothing more than getting her ass kicked and getting made fun of? Vanessa’s a sucker for punishment, sure, but she’s also not a clown.

Brooke shrugs. “Then we prepare for your next match. But what makes you so sure that will happen?”

“I mean, I got thoroughly whooped in my last match, and I haven’t fought since then-”

“Then what do you call our daily sparring where I really don’t hold back against you anymore, at all?”

Brooke’s revelation makes Vanessa pause. “Wait, really? You don’t go easy on me?”

Vanessa’s always thought that Brooke fought at an unattainable level as a pro - someone unstoppable, someone that Vanessa should aspire to be like. But if Brooke isn’t holding back against her anymore, then…

“As you’ve improved, I’ve pushed you harder and harder. You don’t think you’re still at the level you were at when you walked into my gym with press-ons, do you?”

The disbelief in Brooke’s expression is mixed in with pride and a twinkle in her eye - a look that Vanessa always strives to get out of her during training, one that makes her stomach flip in excitement.

“So what you’re saying is, I can whoop your ass,” Vanessa grins, and Brooke’s eye roll is immediate.

“I don’t know if I’d go that far. Olivia, though? More than capable of whooping hers. You’re ready, Ness. You really are.”

With the way Brooke is looking at her, part of Vanessa may be finally starting to believe it, too.

[birdyisanightingale]

THT S4 Theories...

Right, we’re diving in baby... This is going to be an analysis of all the new clips from the teaser trailer.

So first off, we have guardians in what appears to be quite a grand building (circular window), which sort of reminds me of the church they had the mass dedication thing in. Having a security clamp-down is no surprise given what Mayday just pulled off, but having them in the church may suggest a large group of people that are being ‘guarded’. My thoughts are that it’s some sort of mass prayer to return the children that’s also being used as a ‘lets-see-who-looks-guilty-and-rough-them-up-for-intel’ type thing.

Next up we have this group of images from what appears to be the same scene (lighting, costume, injury makeup is consistent). This looks like it’s set directly after the girls find June in the forest, or maybe a few days later considering June is able to walk. Another reason to believe it’s slightly later is that they’ve lost a handmaid; in the final scene of S3, June can be seen carried away by six handmaids (three on either side) but in this scene there are only six of them including June. The usual faces can be seen (Janine, Alma, Brianna) so I’m not worried about a major character death prior to this scene, but it does suggest they may have run into some trouble before getting to this farm.

Which leads me onto my next point: I think this farm is going to serve as their base of operations for continuing Mayday (potentially owned by Mrs.Keyes - Mckenna Grace - and her husband?). They’re clearly in some sort of barn in this scene dressed as Marthas - no doubt this is probably a cover to keep them in hiding (nothing says conspicuous like blood red!). Quick side note: there is seven of them again in this scene so hopefully that means that someone just had to run an errand or something (or, more interestingly, one of them could be acting as a spy now that they appear to have given up being handmaids altogether). There is also an argument between June and Alma in this scene where Alma suggests that they should just leave, which is fair enough considering they have a rare chance of escaping a totalitarian regime of rapists, but June insists that “these women deserve to be helped” - the word women suggests she’s moved her sights from saving children to Handmaids and Marthas now or maybe even the women at Jezebels! That would make a particularly interesting escape as Gilead couldn’t make it a national high-profile search because technically ‘a place like that would never exist in Gilead’...

The ‘squad’ also appears to have picked up a guardian? I have two theories on this: 1) This is the Guardian who was meant to be at Hannah’s school the day June went with Eleanor and he has been working with Mayday and the Martha network for a while. 2) The distinct lack of Nick in S3 was because he was off on the front lines finding soldiers of his own, a new breed of double-agent eyes, to join Mayday. We know not all Guardians/Eyes are pious because of the gay refugee guardian that was processed by Moira, so it’s only logical that there are way more out there. It might be Nick’s way of ‘atoning’ for being a part of the crusade.

Man oh man, this scene gave me chills. First of all, the injuries suggest Lydia has potentially been roughed up by some guardians - most likely in the aftermath of the escaped children. We can’t really see much of the background besides these lights which could suggest a lot of things; she could be in an interrogation setting, she could be in a salvaging (although unlikely as she would be a huge asset in the search for Mayday), she could be in the colonies (again unlikely), or she could have be being held hostage by Mayday and she’s talking to one of the other Handmaids about June. I quite like the last option because she’s using biblical language just like she did at the red centre to try to manipulate them, particularly Janine. Which leads me to my geekier thoughts on this scene: she calls June “beyond redemption” - the bible says that no one is beyond redemption as Jesus embodied salvation. So this is the moment where we can finally plainly see that Lydia isn’t doing this because she truly believes in the religious foundation of Gilead (even though that’s what she may tell herself), she’s doing it because she’s a blind follower of Gilead. Gilead isn’t a religious state, it’s a totalitarian oppressive regime and they are not the same thing.

This appears to be some sort of interrogation/arrest of Lawrence (the evidence is he’s being escorted by two guardians). Again, we can’t really tell much from the background, it’s definitely not something we recognise. My best guess we be that it’s either an eye ‘black-site’ or a room from the old red centre (it looks run down like a public school). It’s also probably likely that this is happening after the Mayday children escape - it would make sense that he would be questioned pretty quickly as June was his handmaid. The language he uses in this scene seems very pivotal - like he’s been pondering it for a while which is consistent with how clever he is - but it suggests that he’s talking to someone of importance, someone who he deems to have the intellect to understand what he’s saying. My guess would be maybe Nick or one of the other commanders; leadership is a bit slim-pickings fro them at the minute with Fred incarcerated, Winslow ‘missing’ and Lawrence as a suspect which may make Gilead’s response to Mayday quite sloppy (no doubt something Lawrence is implying in his ‘next few weeks’ comment).

I’ll be honest, I have absolutely no idea what to think of this (It was barely half a second worth of footage, in my defence!). There is some guy walking behind at about the same pace she is walking which suggests they are both walking towards the same thing. Considering Moira’s been working with refugees, I would assume it’s something to do with that. Maybe a Gilead wife has arrived as a ‘refugee’ and that’s going to be a side-plot? Or maybe she’s in the detention centre where they’re holding Fred and Serena and she’s about to rip into Serena? Who knows.

Anyway, that was LONG but those are my thoughts - please comment and leave your ideas! Blessed be the fruit loops, bitches x

[missnmikaelson-main]

A Year to Eternity? - Chapter 6

He stopped short on entry to the school, eyes going wide as he took in the wild red hair accessorized with broken twigs and ground leaves. Mud soaked the bottom of her slippers and hemline.

The boy beside her looked to have been rolling in the mud.

Kol heckled on the bench across from them, shoulders shaking and eyes shining with mirth.

“Do I want to know?” He buttoned his jacket and shoved a hand in his pocket.

“Hope had a midnight rendezvous with a boy,” Kol smirked.

“I did not,” she cried, hiding her mortification behind her hands, with a groan about stupid interfering uncles.

Kol laughed.

“Nik did find you in the woods with him.”

Hope grumbled and crossed her arms, sinking into her seat.

The boy held up his hand.

“Just for the record, I wasn’t naked, and she was wearing my jacket.”

Elijah took a second to place the familiar features in the chaos of the last twenty-four hours: dark hair in tight curls, green eyes and a nervous smile.

“Landon?” He lifted his chin. “What are you doing here?”

“Nik’s losing his touch in his old age,” Kol grinned.

“Careful, brother,” his eyes flickered to him, “I am older than Niklaus.”

Landon cleared his throat and rubbed his palms over his thighs.

“Hope’s dad tried to compel… compel?” He turned to Hope who nodded once. “Tried to compel me and couldn’t, and then the headmistress - who is apparently a teenager - cut my hand and tasted my blood, and now they’re in there arguing.”

“We were gonna eavesdrop, but someone fixed the privacy spells,” she sighed.

“And you have yet to clean up because?” Elijah lifted an eyebrow.

Hope’s eyes darted from him to his younger brother as her fingers twisted the hem of her t-shirt.

“Uncle Kol makes Landon uncomfortable,” she shrugged.

“All I said was go and relax while I question your suitor’s intentions.” Kol held up his hands and frowned; the picture of innocence.

“You said it in front of dad, so if I leave there’s a good chance Landon disappears,” she rolled her eyes.

“You’re giving your father too much credit, darling,” Kol smirked, ignoring Landon’s nervous swallow. “Elijah’s the one who makes people vanish.”

Elijah rolled his eyes and took pity on the boy.

“You will not be disappearing Landon,” he unbuttoned his jacket, “now I think I shall find out what has upset Niklaus this time.”

He strode into Caroline’s office and shut the door, somehow unsurprised to find them locked in a heated staring contest. Kol’s voice sounded in the back of his mind, egging the pair to ‘just shag already’.

Caroline broke eye contact first.

“I thought you were with Elena?” She checked her watch.

“Bonnie is visiting and asked for a private word. I thought I would check in here.” He moved to stand near the desk. “How has my brother earned your ire today?”

“He’s trying to take an active hand in enrolment…”

Klaus cut her off, eyes flashing as his voice rose.

“You cannot let that boy in here!”

“It’s my school. I can let in anyone I want to,” she snapped, “and I’m not going to turn away a young supernatural because you’ve hit the overprotective dad phase.”

He’s been there since day one, Elijah pressed his lips together.

“Caroline…” 

“They like each other, deal with it.” She rolled her eyes.

“What exactly is Landon?” He turned to Caroline as she crossed her arms.

“No idea, but there is no vervain in or on him and he can’t be compelled so he’s something, and now he knows about werewolves and vampires and since he’s sitting out there probably witches too. He’s seen the school.”

“And she wants to keep him,” Klaus grumbled.

“I can’t exactly let him go,” she shot back. “And you can’t kill every boy who likes her.”

“I most certainly can.”

“Niklaus,” he sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “You have no control over admissions, and as far as Hope is concerned Landon is a better choice than her last boyfriend.”

“According to Kol he’s bumbling and sweet,” Caroline frowned with amusement in her eyes, “very strange coming from him.”

“I can attest to that,” he nodded.

“Did everybody know about this boy but me?” Klaus grumbled petulantly.

“You would have to check with our sisters.”

“I’m going to let you two has this out while I talk to Landon and then go bring Elena home.”

“I can pick up Elena and the baby.” He held up his hand before Caroline could move around her desk. His eyes darted to his brother. “We have nothing to ‘hash out’. That way you won’t have to rush what I’m sure is going to be a long conversation.”

“You’ll need a car seat, which I still haven’t gone to get,” she sighed, closing her eyes.

“I’ll pick one up,” he assured her.

“We will,” Klaus amended. “I do owe her a thank you.”

“Wow,” she leaned back, “I thought she’s be on her deathbed before you actually got to that.” She moved across the room and took a key from her purse. “For the Lake house.”

“I assume you’ve packed a bag,” he tucked the key into his pocket.

“It’s in the closet by the front door,” she nodded, “and it’s got stuff for her and the baby.” She pushed her hair back from her face. “I was gonna go with her this weekend to pick up the car seat.”

“I believe picking up a car seat is the very least I can do,” Klaus sighed. “Let’s go, I’d like to get this over with.”

“Don’t kill Landon on the way out,” Caroline called. She took a deep breath as Klaus said something to Hope before sending the teenagers into her office.

“Landon, Hope,” she nodded to the chairs in front of her desk as she smoothed out her sweater, “take a seat. We’re going to be here a little while.”

++++

Serena’s tiny fingers curled around her pinky, so small and helpless. She knew nothing of the cold hard world and remained innocent of the murky details surrounding her conception, depending on her mother for everything.

“Elena?”

Bonnie’s voice broke through her thoughts. She looked up and locked eyes with her.

“You don’t have to do this. We can…” she paused, taking a moment to search her friend’s expression; when she spoke again a forced conviction laced her tone. “We can find another way. We have time.”

She allowed her eyelashes to flutter until they practically lay on her cheek; Serena’s eyes dropped.

Caroline’s voice whispered in her ear with the occasional supplement from Klaus. The Hollow craved power, murdering indiscriminately to acquire it: witches, wolves, vampires and humans. Nobody was safe; it would kill Hope and find away to amass more strength.

The destruction of the entire world rested on her shoulders.

An hour ago I was worried about parenting, she kissed Serena’s brow.

“I just had a baby,” she spoke around a catch in her throat.

“We can find another way.” Bonnie’s hand cupped Serena’s head.

It would spiral into Hope first, and depending on how long the spell held either the school or Hope’s family. She thought it inevitable that it would find it’s way back to Mystic Falls now that it knew about the growing power beyond the iron gates. From there it would take New Orleans. Once the supernatural population lay in smoking ruins it would focus on humanity and whatever power it could drain from the beating heart of nature.

“Another way?” She smoothed her thumb over the tiny fist and thought of Klaus’ plan and Elijah’s scheme. She was the other way: plan B. Whether she liked it or not. The only other option included a ‘dead’ Mikaelson and one broken heart either way.

“Elena?” She squeezed her friend’s hand. “What are you thinking?”

“What am I thinking?” She breathed, limbs shaking as she stood and carefully placed her baby in the bassinet. “What am I thinking?”

Elena’s vision tunnelled until all she could see was the stripped edge of the hospital issue baby blanket. She clutched at her elbows and shook her head, breath hitching on a sob that made her voice quake around her words.

“I think you came in here and put one of the biggest fears I had my entire pregnancy at ease,” her back hit the wall. She sagged and clutched her stomach, a numbness spread through her mind; laughter bubbled out, and she couldn’t stop once she started.

Bonnie approached with uncertain steps, laying her hand’s on Elena’s trembling shoulders. The new mom gasped on a breath, somehow managing to wheeze out the rest.

“And… and now y-you’re… you’re saying that to s-save ev-everyone…” her laughter turned to giggles, “I have to… have to make it a reality.”

She brought a shaking hand to her forehead as the giggles shifted to sobs; the kind that wrenched her entire body and left her feeling empty with equally strong desires to be alone and feel the comfort of another person.

“We can find another way,” Bonnie insisted. She ran a hand up and down Elena’s spine; the words sounded hollow and forced.

“What the bloody hell is going on in here?”

Elena flinched at the sudden voice, burrowing further into Bonnie’s shoulder.

“Have a little tact Niklaus.”

Bonnie twisted to watch the brothers while keeping one arm around Elena’s shoulders.

Klaus placed an infant carrier on the floor and leaned against the open door, crossing his arms.

Elijah strode in, pausing only to place a familiar bag on the bed, and came towards them.

Elena’s sobs slowed. She accepted the deep purple pocket square and dried her red rimmed eyes. A persistent cold clung to her as she deliberately ignored the hybrid’s curious gaze to focus on the bag. The gloriously beautiful bag Caroline stocked with cashmere clothes and toiletries for her, along with everything her daughter would need.

She needed a shower, and space, and really just two minutes alone.

“Elena,” Elijah placed a hand on her elbow, “do you need anything?”

Her arm trembled beneath his touch.

“I want to shower,” she sniffled, eyes flickering to the bassinet.

“Then go,” he nodded to the attached bathroom, “between Miss Bennett and myself she’ll be perfectly safe.”

“Why was I not included in there?” Klaus arched an eyebrow.

“Do you really think that with your history she would trust you with her child?” Bonnie scoffed, gesturing between him and Elena.

“She did just save mine,” he stepped into the hospital room, “causing any harm to your child…” he stooped, catch Elena’s eye as she rifled through the bag. Her movements stilled, hands curled around soft material. “Well now, that would be a poor way of showing my gratitude, wouldn’t it, love?”

She hardly heard the words passing though her lips; something about an extensive vocabulary and knowing the words ‘thank’ and ‘you’. Whatever she said drew a chuckle from him.

“Thank you,” Klaus smirked as the door clicked shut. He waited a moment for the water to start before turning to Bonnie. “What was that about?”

She dug into the bag for a new sleeper to replace the hospital one Serena had chosen to spit up on.

“She just had a baby,” she picked up the child in question and laid her on the hospital bed, “it’s not uncommon to cry after having a baby.”

Her fingers worked free the snaps, baring a belly and curled umbilical cord.

“Elena seemed fine when I left,” Elijah unfolded the pink outfit.

Serena squirmed, opening her mouth to protest the cold.

“That’s hormones for you,” Bonnie fastened the new onesie, taking care around the belly.

He recognized the attempt to evade, but allowed it. Niklaus had a fearsome temper and as of yet remained unaware of the true situation; he trusted Elena would fill him in when she felt ready.

Serena began to cry in earnest.

“You might try picking her up,” Klaus leaned back on his heels.

“I’ve never had to calm a baby before,” she admitted. “I didn’t spend much time with the twins until they were four.” Bonnie cradled the baby in the crook of her arm; she cried harder. “You’re not wet or hungry, so what’s wrong?”

Elijah draped a receiving blanket over his shoulder.

“Allow me.”

Bonnie and Klaus stood froze, watching as he held the baby to his shoulder. She turned her face into his neck as he spoke in dulcet tones.

“There you go, sweetheart,” he spread a large hand over her back in the way he had discovered she liked. “You’re alright now… shh…” he curled the edge of the blanket up, covering her beneath his hand. “I know you don’t like the cold.”

“How, precisely, do you know that?” Klaus raised an eyebrow.

“I spent the morning here, enabling you and Caroline Forbes to engage in your little argument.” Elijah felt her breathing even out for sleep as the shower tapered off. “Perhaps you can see about getting them discharged. I’m sure Elena would love to go home.”

“That’s putting it mildly,” Elena stepped out. Her damp hair, piled in a messy bun, spilled loose curls around her shadowed eyes.

“I can give you a ride home,” Bonnie offered.

“I’ve actually already installed the base in my car,” Elijah went on. “I can take you both back.”

Elena thought it a testament to whatever they had that after years apart and her mental exhaustion she could understand from one look that he wanted to talk to her, needed to talk to her.

“If you don’t mind,” eavesdropper.

++++

Autumnal leaves whipped by the windows, slowing as Elijah drifted into the driveway. The journey had been silent, comfortable despite the looming conversation.

The comfort wouldn’t last if they let things fester, so when he put them in park she unbuckled and shifted to look at his profile.

“How much did you hear?” Her fingers twisted in her sweater, catching in the vial Bonnie had slipped into her pocket; it bounced against her knuckles.

“That the spell is not yet permanent, and that you can make it so,” he tapped the steering wheel, “but I did not hear how. I assume what Bonnie told you contributed to your tears.”

“It’s just a little…” she drew in a shaky breath, sighing when he took one of her hands and stilled her fidgeting, “overwhelming.”

“Tell me?” He smoothed a line over her knuckles in a motion meant to soothe.

“She summoned Qetsiyah last night,” she watched his hand for a moment. “After she sent Kol to get that knife she summoned her ancestor.”

“And what brought on this family reunion?” He kept his voice low in deference to Serena’s slumber.

“The seal requires a living doppelgänger line; last night she found out that I am the last one.” Her voice hitched. He thought she might have cried if she weren’t cried out.

“That news would have been a load off you mind, and now it upsets you.” He raised his hand, watching the hospital bracelet catch on her wrist. “I assume she suggested vampirism.”

“No,” she inhaled slowly, “I could still die that way, and the doppelgänger line would end. Then the Hollow gets out and wreaks havoc.” Her free hand slipped into her pocket, extracting a vial of green liquid that she held out.

“This is an alternative to vampirism?” He lifted it to the light.”

“That’s the spell that made Silas and Amara, and kicked off two doppelgänger bloodlines.”

“So if you take this…”

“The doppelgänger line kicks off with me as the new progenitor,” her fingers tightened around his hand.

“And you have no desire to re-greet immortality.” He closed his hand around the spell.

“It’s not that…” she shook her head, blinking rapidly. “I didn’t mind being a vampire, Elijah. I had even come to terms with it.”

“Then why take the cure?” The frown lines deepened around his mouth.

“Because I lied to Damon,” she shut her eyes against a wave of exhaustion. She could feel him watching and sighed before clarifying. “When I turned it back on he didn’t want to hear that the sire bond was still there, so I told him what he wanted to hear. He seemed to have it in his head that I wanted the cure no matter what I said, and when he finally got hold of it he told me that the choice was mine. I thought ‘finally’; finally, I’d be free.”

“Were you? Finally free?” He asked, turning in time to see a single tear leak from her eye.

She stayed silent for a long moment, chest rising and falling with shallow breaths.

“I don’t know,” she admitted in a soft voice. “The coma happened, and then he died.” She opened her eyes, turning to face him fully.

“Eternity doesn’t scare me, and I suppose I would be around to protect the next one,” she sighed, glancing into the backseat, “I just wish all of this information hadn’t come today.”

Her eyes locked on the car seat.

“You just had a baby,” he nodded. “It’s a lot.”

“It is,” she agreed. She looked from the back of Serena’s car seat to his hand, coming to a decision she knew he would respect and do everything in his power to honour. “I want a year.”

“A year?”

“One year to be human, and breastfeed my daughter and lost the baby weight,” she gestured to her stomach. “One year and then I’ll take it.”

He was nodding before she finished.

“You’ll understand if I remain close during that time, as my niece’s life is on the line.”

“Is that the only reason you want to stay close?” The corner of her mouth quirked up.

“Well,” he smirked, glancing to the backseat, “Serena is very hard to resist.”

“Oh, and here I thought it had something to do with me,” she rolled her eyes.

He let go of her hand and cupped her jar. The callouses on his fingers skimmed the soft skin as he had more than a decade before.

“Where do you think she gets it from?” He tucked a curl behind her ear, smiling when she turned her cheek into his touch.

“I almost spelt it with an’I’,” she huffed a laugh.

“That would be the Greek name for a siren,” he chuckled. “Didn’t a bunch of them nearly kill everyone in town years ago?”

“If they did it was before I woke up,” she shrugged. “I should probably take her inside.”

“Give her the tour?” He raised an eyebrow.

“I thought I’d start in the kitchen.” Her stomach grumbled. “The hospital food was a little bland,” her eyes drooped; she forced them back open.

“I’ll tell you what,” he traced her cheekbone with his thumb. “Why don’t we go inside and you can take a short nap while she’s still asleep? While the two of you rest I’ll fix you a late lunch. How does that sound?”

“Amazing,” she sighed, “like I might just keep you around.”

“I hope that’s not the only reason.”

“There might be a few more.”

She felt the softest brush of lips against her brow.

@elejahforever @elejah-wonderland @naughtynecromancer @ethanjwillis @cry-btch@geekofmanyfandoms @morsmornte@xanderling@bellemorte180@iw1shiknew@blndbandt@petrova-banz @bulldozed88 @njeancastro316

[deadlyaffairs]

After You Left [8]

previous //

Dad!Tom AU

Summary: y/n finds out she’s pregnant, but she and Tom get into an argument about moving to America. 3 years pass and Tom finally comes home where he finds out his parents and ex-girlfriend have been keeping a secret from him.

a/n: This series isn’t discontinued or on hiatus, I just suck at updating. I do apologize but college sucks plus I have really bad coping mechanisms for life and problems. 

Word Count: 1.3k

 Tom felt his throat begin to swell up as panic rose throughout his body, his heart felt like it was beating a hundred miles per second. Ben was patiently awaiting an answer looking right up at him and Tom swore that there must have been a spotlight on him at that moment. 

“I can- Uh Yeah I can hold you.” Tom finally answers, his insides mushing together. He let out a small breath of air as Ben smiled and scooted to the side, making room for Tom. 

A smile made its way across Tom’s features as Ben held an innocent look, his tiny hand patting the empty space gesturing Tom to take it so Ben could easily crawl into Tom.

y/n watched as Tom almost turtle-like made his way onto the hospital bed, it looks as if Tom was trying not to frighten the boy. She knew she should not have felt a pang of jealousy course through her, but skin-to-skin was her favorite thing after Ben was born. However, she pushed aside the feeling since the overall feeling of glee was stronger. 

“I’ll get a nurse in here as soon as possible for the test.” The Doctor cuts in as he makes his getaway. 

y/n catches Tom’s eyes as she turns back to look at the two in the bed. Tom wants to call her over to take Ben’s now vacant spot beside him, but he feels like that could be too much. 

“Mama... Peppa, please?” Ben asks as he made himself comfortable on Tom’s lap. Ben turns to look up at Tom. “You hold me, member?” his head leaning into Tom’s chest

Tom laughs a little, “Sorry bud.” Tom places his arm loosely around Ben, an odd sensation at first. Ben is tiny but skin soft and warm. 

“Yes or no?” Ben asks and y/n sighs. 

“Ok baby, only until the Doctor comes back alright? Then you have to say goodbye to Peppa.” 

Ben pouts but, nods his head ultimately agreeing. A young nurse walked in shortly after and smiled at the three. “Hi, there I’m here to see Benjamin Thomas Holland?” 

Tom glanced at y/n who stared straight ahead, avoiding his gaze. “I think that’s for you bud,” Tom says gently, Ben tucks himself into Tom his eyes glazing over as tears filled his eyes.  “I got you. I promise.” Tom whispers and squeezes Ben to reassure. 

The nurse smiles and leans forward. y/n watches suddenly aware of just how close she has become to Tom and her child. Their child... From where she stands she moves to sit on the bed next to Tom. 

Tom tries to hide the small grin but looks at the nurse. “Where are you going to- um you know.” 

“Just his arm, painless really. May hurt you two more than it does him.” She says trying to ease some of the tension. She rolls Ben’s sleeve up and wipes his skin where she’s going to place the needle to take some blood. “We never need too much from children, and since we’re fairly certain this is just common flu-” she drones on distracting the three of them as she sticks the needle in, retracting blood, removing it all before she finishes. “We don’t want to cause too much distress.” 

Ben winces but does not react other than that. Tom let out a breath of air he had not realized he was holding and y/n nods listening, knowing all too well how these procedures work in order to keep children from throwing tantrums mid-shot. 

“And we’re all done, you’re a real trooper Benjamin. I’ll be sure to let the Doctor know what a great job you did letting us take care of you.” She smiles as she packs everything before walking out. 

y/n grabs Ben’s hand “Was that scary?” 

Ben shakes his head, and y/n smiles pressing a kiss to the top of his head before taking her phone out and letting him grab it. She leans back and looks at Tom. “I’m really sorry about... everything and I’m really happy you decided to come even though you said-” 

Tom shakes his head, “I’m scared, I’m really scared.” y/n nods and looks down. knowing he was deadlocked on what he said. 

“Give him a chance.” 

It’s a plea, gentle and low but loud enough that Tom feels it in his chest. 

Days have gone by and it seemed like everything was back to normal. Ben was beginning to feel better, things at the flower shop were breezing by and y/n was ahead of her assignments. 

It was refreshing, to say the least. It really had only been a couple of days or close to two weeks that the whole Tom coming back and revealing Ben to the people she had kept in the dark for so long. 

“Hey... you doing ok mama?” Serena asked putting the broom away. 

y/n nods but sighs, “I don’t know why I even asked him. Why I even called him, I mean I do, but I hate myself for it.” 

Serena shook her head “But you shouldn’t, look you helped me through my whole relationship with Damien and I’m going to tell you what you told me. You’re going to feel how you’re going to feel about it and you shouldn’t hate yourself for still caring about him. Accepting that you still love him but can’t be with him is going to help you get over him.” 

“I hate when you use my words against me.” 

They share a laugh before Serena sighs and places her hand atop y/n’s, looking her straight in the eyes. “I don’t want to give you false hope... but who says you can’t?” 

“You did just now.” y/n jokes 

Serena tilts her head with a raised brow, “y/n... really. Why are you so hellbent on it. It’s clear that there are unresolved feelings there, not just on your part. He came to the shop and then the hospital? Maybe he’s not ready to be a dad today or tomorrow but that doesn’t mean he won’t ever be.” 

“Rena... the walls I’m building aren’t to protect me...” 

It’s silent for a beat, only a beat before Serena speaks up “You can’t protect Ben from this. He needs a mom and a dad.” 

“Who says I can’t be both?” 

“No one is saying that you’ve done so well by yourself. But he has the chance to have it, don’t you want to give him that?” 

“Of course I do.” 

“Then what’s a little pain.” 

The conversation with Serena really left y/n in a bigger turmoil than before. She knew that there were points made but it didn’t stop her own fear. She glanced back at the living-room where Ben had built a fort and was in his own little world, so innocent to what is going on around him. 

“Bedtime baby.” 

“No mama I’m not tired.” 

“But you need to sleep before school, don’t you want to see your friends?”

“I miss Nan.” 

“We can see her after school tomorrow.” 

Ben is quiet for a bit before he comes out of the fort, he’s holding his box of toys that carry a variety.” 

“You say goodnight to them?” 

“Yesh,” 

He sets the box on the ground before taking off in the direction of his bedroom. Suddenly very eager. y/n giggles and follows after him. When she reaches the doorway he’s pushing the button on his nightlight. “Otay, night mama.” He says as he crawls into bed. He touches his mouth as he makes a kissy face. 

“Goodnight baby.” y/n leans down and kisses his lips, nose, and forehead. She stands and turns the light off, she stays there for a moment as she watches him look up at the ceiling catching the night lights shades of different shapes. 

Once she enters her bedroom, she changes into more comfortable clothing. She bites her bottom lip as she glances at her phone. There are no notifications and she wasn’t expecting any, however, she could feel her pulse spike at the idea she was having. 

She unlocked it and opened messages, her fingers began to type out a message, and before she could really even think about it she pressed send.  

sent 9:43PM 

TAGLIST 

The names with lines through them aren’t letting me tag you! Also please let me know if you’ve asked to be on the taglist but aren’t! Thanks for reading! And just to let ya know to give me feedback even if it is grammar checks gives me the motivation to do better in future parts!

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[erraticrandomficwriter]

Cloaked Heart - A Gossip Girl Plot Bunny - Season 1 Episode 1 - Work in Progress

Charlotte Bass – Lottie to the ‘Upper East Siders’, Charlie to her friends – stood impatiently in Grand Central Station for the return of one of her closest friends. She hadn’t seen Serena van der Woodsen in a year but they kept in touch the entire time Serena was in boarding school. Why Serena left, she still didn’t know but it didn’t matter. Charlie knew Serena would tell her in her own time and if that time never came then so be it...

When Serena appeared in her line of sight she bounced in delight and ran to her friend, away from the driver that was waiting for her as well. With no word or warning she darted straight to Serena and tackled her with a hug. She should have thought that through because they both lost their balance and ended up falling on the floor together.

Serena laughed at the sudden tackle and teased, “Now what would your brother say about this sort of behavior?”

“As if either of us care what Chuck thinks.” Charlie laughed again as she got to her feet and helped Serena to her own. “Chuck and I may be twins but we are complete opposites.”

“Going at each other’s throats, are you?” Serena asked as she linked arms with Charlie and headed outside together.

“He’d have to acknowledge my existence in order to be at my throat. Chuck has hardly spoken to me since Freshman year.” Charlie pushed the topic of her brother aside and focused on Serena’s life. “Enough about my brother, let’s talk about yours.” She stopped when they reached the car and got serious. “I’m so sorry I didn’t see what was happening, Serena. I should have been able to see it.”

Serena didn’t blame Charlie in the least. “Hey, I don’t blame you so don’t blame yourself. Okay?”

Charlie heard Serena loud and clear but that didn’t stop her from beating herself up for not seeing the signs in Eric.

Serena moved aside so the driver could open the door for them but didn’t get in yet. “I see the face you’re making, Charlie. Now I am not going to get into this car until you give me your ‘I just spent the entire day with my mystery best friend’ smile.”

Charlie couldn’t help but laugh at that then smiled the way she knew Serena was referring to and once they were both in the back seat of the car, she pointed out. “He goes to our school, you know.”

“I do, but you won’t tell me his name. Or where he lives. Or anything. All I really know is how you met and why you don’t bring him around.” Serena could understand Charlie’s need to keep the people in her life separate from one another. After what Charlie went though, it gave her a sense of control.

“And you know me well enough to respect it.” Charlie grinned before leaning back into the seat with a sigh. “Does anyone else know you’re coming back?”

Serena slouched back and sighed as well. “Just you and my mom.”

Just as soon as Serena said that, Charlie’s phone went off to notify her of a Gossip Girl update. She pulled her phone from her pocket and showed Serena the post. “And everyone else.”

Serena presently didn’t have the patience to deal with that so she pushed Charlie’s phone away and turned her attention to the passing scenery outside the window.

---------------------------------------------------------------

After the driver dropped Serena off at Blair’s place since that’s where Mrs. van der Woodsen presently was, Charlie headed to Brooklyn. With a pizza in hand, she knocked on the door of her best friend’s loft and smiled when he opened the door. “I heard a rumor you were back today.”

Dan Humphrey chuckled as he stepped aside to let her in. “Was there a post on Gossip Girl or something?”

Charlie spotted the site open on Dan’s laptop. “As if you don’t already know.”

Dan tried to veer the topic away and took the box from her. “Oh, look, pizza.”

“Pizza isn’t going to stop us from talking about who else is back.” Charlie took off her black leather jacket and set it on the stool beside her as she sat at the kitchen island.

Dan knew what she was getting at but acted like he didn’t. “Yes, that’s true, Jenny came back with me. You’ve guessed it.”

Charlie narrowed her eyes at him before picking a mushroom off her pizza slice and flicking it at him. “Funny. So are you going to make a move or not? You’ve only just been pining after her since Freshman Year. The day you met the love of your life and your best friend.”

“That was a lucky night for both of us.” Dan meant that for more reasons than one.

Charlie looked down at her wrist and the small scar there as she remembered how Dan found her before it got worse. “No argument here.”

Dan could see where her head was going and leaned upon the island before placing his hand over her wrist. “With all the effort you’ve put into keeping me out of your Upper East Side world, why would you try pulling me into it now?”

Charlie accepted his segue and gave his hand a squeeze before taking her wrist back. “I’m not pulling you into that world, Dan. I am merely suggesting that it wouldn’t be the worst thing if my two dearest friends ended up together. And for the record, I seem to recall you thanking me from sparing you attendance to that world.”

Dan knew she had him there. “Fair enough.”

Charlie laughed then turned to the door when it opened and Rufus came in with Jenny – both carrying pizzas.

“Great minds,” Rufus joked as he set the pizzas on the counter. “Does your father know you where you are?” He knew Charlie had a habit of just going off without telling anyone where she was going. Well, anyone but Dan that is.

“My father asking where I was going would mean he cared. And he hasn’t cared in a long time.” Charlie put that topic to an end when she took a bite of pizza and turned to Jenny. “Jenny, darling, could I ask you the biggest of all favors that would result in getting paid with some lovely green paper?”

Jenny knew where this was going and she didn’t mind at all. “You have a design in mind?”

Charlie shook her head as she proceeded to eat her pizza. “You can have full creative control. I’ll cover the fabric and everything else you might need. Just put it on my tab at the shop.”

Jenny accepted the offer with smile. “It’ll be my pleasure.”

“And no rush,” Charlie made sure to add that in. “I don’t need it for a couple months.”

“You were just afraid of forgetting until the last second again so you made sure to ask now?” Dan was prepared this time when Charlie threw another mushroom at him and managed to catch it in his mouth which resulted in amused cheering and laughter from the lot of them.

------------------------------------------------------------------

The next day at school, Charlie was presented with an invitation to Blair’s ‘Kiss on the Lips’ party. Charlie was about to politely decline, but wasn’t given the chance to say so when Blair said,

“You’ll be there of course. After all, you didn’t show up to brunch yesterday. You owe me, Lottie.”

Charlie could tell by the look on Blair’s face if she didn’t know up then Blair would make her life a living hell. “I’ll be there.”

“That’s my girl,” Blair beamed before walking away.

Charlie rolled her eyes and headed towards the dining hall, only to be met by her brother.

“Charlotte,” was Chuck’s monotone greeting.

“Charles,” she replied in the same manner. Charlie thought that would be it but when Chuck didn’t move, she looked at him in question as to what he wanted. “What is it, Chuck?”

“You disappeared again. Where were you?”

“What do you care?” Charlie shot back. “Seriously, I think this is the most you’ve said to me in months.”

Chuck looked like he was going to say something else but stopped. “You know what, nevermind. Do whatever the hell you want.”

“I intend to.” Charlie stormed off in the opposite direction of the dining hall and went outside. If she stayed within those walls for another second she would have felt like they were closing in on her.

“You okay, Charlie?” Jenny asked as she approached her. “No offense, but you look a little green.”

Charlie put a fake smile on her face as she turned to Jenny. “All good.” She noticed the invitation in Jenny’s hand. “You were invited?”

Jenny held up the invitation with pride. “I did all the calligraphy for the invitations so Blair said I could have one. It’s going to be awesome.” An epic idea came to her mind in that moment. “I’m going to check out some dresses for ideas after school. Want to come with?”

Charlie was still wrapping her head around the fact that Jenny was going to Blair’s party. “You do know that party is going to be nothing but harpies and vultures, right?”

Jenny got a bit defensive at that. “Doesn’t stop you from having an invitation.”

“I’m only going because I don’t want to deal with Blair’s crap if I don’t go.” Charlie didn’t want to argue with Jenny, especially when she could tell Jenny wasn’t going to budge on whether or not she was gonna go. It was only because Charlie knew she’d be there to keep an eye on her, she said, “Sorry. It’s been a long day. I’d love to check out dresses with you.”

Jenny felt better when Charlie said that. “I’ll meet up with you after school. Later!”

Charlie waved as Jenny walked off then looked down at the invitation in her hand with a groan. It had already been a long day and now it was going to turn into an epicly long week since the party wasn’t until Saturday.

-----------------------------------------------

Charlie kept her word and met up with Jenny after school. After getting a couple coffees and something to eat, they headed to store Jenny just had to go to. Charlie already had a dress so there was no point in buying another one, but Jenny kept pestering her to try some on too so she did.

Presently Charlie walked out of the dressing room wearing a two-piece dress. The skirt part went to the floor, and the top was a corset with long sleeves. She stepped in front of the mirrors next to Jenny and laughed, “This looked way better on the rack. I feel like I’m getting ready for a Couture Ren Faire.”

Jenny had to agree with her on that. “No argument here.” She went over to her purse and pulled out her phone. “Time to call in backup.”

Charlie had no idea what Jenny was doing. “Explain.”

“I’m finally understanding why you let me have creative range when it comes to making your dresses. You can’t pick out a dress if your life depended on you. So I am calling in reinforcements.” Jenny beamed when she hit the send button. “Dan should be here soon.”

Charlie was even more confused. “Why on earth would you call Dan?” No offense to her best friend, but that was kinda laughable.

“You need the male perspective. Anything I say will just sound catty.” Jenny went back to the dressing room to try on a couple more things to give herself inspiration of what to make for herself.

“Who are you and what have you done with Jenny?” Charlie called out with no reply and looked at her reflection with a sighed, “I hate when she has a point,” and went off to the dressing room to find something else.

----------------------------------------

It wasn’t too long later that Dan showed up, asking, “What’s the emergency?” He didn’t get an answer right off because Charlie walked over wearing a spaghetti strapped flowy red knee length dress. “Whoa. Charlie, you look amazing.” Finally it clicked. “Hold on. Jenny, is this a fashion emergency?”

Jenny replied without hesitation. “You should have seen what she was wearing before you got here. Trust me. It was an emergency.”

“I didn’t know she was texting you until it was too late. And somehow my phone went missing so I couldn’t tell you not to come.” Charlie looked at Jenny with an ‘I know you took it’ expression.

Jenny acted like she had no idea what Charlie was talking about. “What do you mean? It’s right here?” She innocently went to a nearby chair and picked up her phone that she was not about to admit she stuck into the cushion there.

“Well that’s convenient,” Dan pointed out as he took the cellphone from Jenny and returned it to Charlie.

Jenny shrugged with a smile and turned to the mirror. “Since you’re here, what do you think of this one? It costs more than our rent but I think I can sew something like it.”

Charlie linked her hands together and rested them on Dan’s shoulder. “I offered to buy it for her, but your responsible sister pointed out that Rufus wouldn’t be too happy about that.”

Dan turned his head to look at her. “Let me guess, the consolation is any fabric she needs will just go on your tab?”

“Yep,” Jenny answered. “Charlie is sneaky. She tried to pay me twice as much for the dress I’m going to be making for her.”

Charlie held up her hands innocently and backed away before laughing. Her laughter was cut short when she spotted Serena with Dan. “Serena’s here.”

Dan didn’t believe her. “Funny.” It wasn’t until Charlie turned him in Serena’s direction that he took her seriously so he booked it further into the store in order to hide from them.

Charlie pressed her lips together and tried hard not to laugh as she went over to Serena and Eric who were talking to Jenny. “Small world.”

“Hey, Charlie. Wow, you look great in that dress. Are you going to get it?” Serena thought it’d be a big step for her if she did.

Charlie was comfortable wearing it around Dan and Jenny but that comfort was fading away. “It’s a little…exposed. I’ll probably end up wearing my leather jacket with it.”

“You should wear some combat boots with it, too. That’d really get Blair going.” Eric had to give that kind of input.

Charlie’s face brightened up at that. “Eric, you are a genius.” She then laughed at the mortified look on Jenny’s face. “On that note, I better go cash up. Take care, guys. Talk later!” She blew them all a kiss before going to change back into her normal clothes.

On the way to the dressing room, she spotted Dan hiding deep within the clothes and shook her head with a smile because that reaction was just so…Dan.

---------------------------------------

Charlie was in her bedroom putting her dress away for the party on Saturday when her father, Bart Bass, entered through the open door.

“I’m surprised to see you home,” was his greeting.

“Surprised you even noticed I haven’t been around.” Charlie pulled her new combat boots from the box and set them next to the bed because she intended on wearing them more often than just for the party.

“I’ve noticed.” Bart took a hesitant step closer. “Despite what you may think I do care about you, Charlotte.”

“Could have fooled me,” Charlie muttered under her breath as she started going through her purse just for something to do.

“I don’t know how to talk to you,” Bart admitted. “Especially after what happened to you.”

Charlie threw her purse on the bed. “Oh, are we talking about that now? Because the last I knew we were just supposed to pretend it didn’t happen.”

“I never said that,” Bart replied defensively.

“You didn’t have to. You didn’t want the scandal and we both know it.” Charlie pointed to the door. “Now will you please leave. I’m not comfortable anymore.”

Bart fully intended to revisit their conversation but for now he respected her wishes and left her room.

Charlie closed and locked the door behind him before sliding down to the floor in tears. Every time she felt she was getting better, something happened that just made her think about it all over again.

---------------------------------------------------

Saturday finally arrived and Charlie was getting ready for the Kiss on the Lips party while talking to Dan. “Shut the front door! You two are actually going out?!”

“I think you’re more excited about this than I am,” Dan replied from his end of the line.

“What can I say, you two are my OTP.” Charlie was about to say more but there was a knock at her door. “I gotta go. Have fun tonight. Take care.” After a loud ‘mwah!’ into the cellphone, she ended the call and went to see who was at her bedroom door. To see Chuck standing there was surprising to say the least, especially since he was pretty much living at the Palace now. “What are you doing here?”

“I brought the limo. You coming?” Chuck saw the outfit Charlie was wearing – the red flowy dress, black leather jacket, and black leather combat boots. “That’s what you’re wearing?”

“I’m not going in the limo.” Charlie grabbed her phone and her purse and moved past Chuck to get outside and to her own car that was waiting for her. What was the point of trying to put in an effort to talk to Chuck when he didn’t even try to talk to her after what happened during Freshman year?

------------------------------------------------------

Charlie thought she was going to go insane at the party but Jenny was her salvation. They laughed and danced and it actually made attending bearable.

“I thought you didn’t want your worlds to crossover?” Jenny asked during one of their dances.

“You’re the one who was invited into it. It’s not like I could stop you.” Charlie spun Jenny around and when she moved back she accidentally bumped into someone who spilled their drink all down the front of her dress. This didn’t piss her off or anything, in fact she found it kinda amusing.

“Oh, no, your dress!” Jenny was freaking out. “I don’t know if that’s going to come out.”

“Don’t worry about it. I’m gonna head to the ladies room. Hey, if it doesn’t come out it’ll give me an excuse to leave early.” Charlie winked at Jenny before weaving through the crowd to the ladies which of course had an obscenely long line.

Charlie lost track of how long she’d been waiting in line but was about to get into the ladies room when she felt the buzz of her phone in her pocket. She pulled it out to see a text from Jenny that read ‘911 – Chuck’. Reading that text made her blood boil because she knew what Chuck could be like and hated it.

Charlie simmered her temper ling enough to kick herself into gear and start looking for Chuck and Jenny. She didn’t see them around the party and stopped Nate to ask him. “Where’s Chuck?”

“I haven’t seen him for a bit. He’s probably on the roof with his latest girl.” Nate shrugged in a ‘whatever’ fashion and continued on his way.

The roof was a good enough clue as any so she darted up the stairs. On the landing about halfway up to the roof she found Chuck’s scarf so she started taking the steps two at a time.

Charlie burst through the door to the roof and saw Chuck in the distance having Jenny pinned down as he forcibly kissed her. “Get off her!” she screamed as she ran over and shoved Chuck off Jenny.

“What the hell is your problem?” Chuck demanded to know of his sister.

By now Dan and Serena were with them. While Dan dealt with Chuck, Charlie went over to Jenny who was being held by Serena. When Charlie heard Chuck say ‘it’s a party, things happen’, she’d swear she saw red.

Charlie slowly turned around just in time to see Dan punch Chuck but that wasn’t enough. She stormed over to Chuck and shoved him. “How could you do this?!” she shoved him again. “Knowing what happened to me you try to do the same to her?!” Charlie shoved him again. “You are not my brother! I hate you!”

Charlie would have kept shoving him again and again but Dan held her back. She was so consumed with her rage that she didn’t even see the expression on Chuck’s face – an expression that made it clear he had no idea what the hell she was talking about.

Chuck stood there as Charlie went off with Serena and the others. It took him a little time to react to Charlie’s reaction. “What happened?” he called out, but she kept on going. “What happened?!” he shouted, only to get the sound of the roof access door closing in reply.

-----------------------

End Season 1 Episode 1

[xsecretblastsx]

1x10 - High Society

Finally I’ve reach a double digit episode, and what an episode, I feel this is where I really start questioning characters decisions, but I also love drama so, withouth more preamble, here’s the recap. Again it got insanely long.

Thoughts I had while watching the episode:

I love “comin home baby”, so right there this show is making me so happy.

I’ve actually paused the episode to see the date of the debutante ball a.k.a Cotillion 

I love Blair’s red tigh outfit, also where did that guy Prince Theodore came from?

Chuck’s proud face when Nate mentions how happier Blair seems lately, and also, dude really you don’t miss your girlfriend haha

Honestly I feel this scene with all these parallel conversations about Cotillion is great, right up my alley.

All the subtle drama in that rehearsal, the secret glances, Chuck and Nate keeping their eyes on Blair all the time, this is the kind of content I’m here for. 

I would  like to know why everyone is in their preppy uniforms and then there’s Kati and Is who look like they’re part of Flashdance

Lilly rolling her eyes the moment she sees CeCe, and then really enjoying Cece’s mortification when she realizes Dan is a Humphrey. I love Lilly.

And from Cece’s horrified face we go to hottest PG-13 make out ever. For real though I love this scene, they both look so good and so into it, and they’re so deliciously flirty and their chemistry is out of the charts. Great choice in music too.

I don’t know who is more frustrating by Nate interrupting Chuck or myself.

Chuck’s little smile when Blair says to Nate they should  move on, only to be whipped out in the next minute

Two things about the heart pin: that was an incredibly smart move on Nate’s part, and if you had any doubt Blair Waldorf is such a hopeless romantic.

Cece such a manipulator, it’s unbelievable. Imagine if Serena was more like her family...

Nate’s tux fitting deserves an honorable mention just for the fact that Blair’s actually wearing jeans. Also he kind of deserves she’s lowkey ignoring him

I mean, Dan is so annoying, like yeah I get his point Cotillion is such an elitist unnecessary event, but the way he goes about it gets on my nerves.

Hello Carter. I actually don’t mind him this episode. 

Out of all the seasons I feel like Season 1 is the one where it’s weirder for the final reveal of who gossip girl is, right now it makes the guy really look like a sociopath, with all the stuff he pretends not to know.

Oh Nate! This scene is so fun, like Chuck is so done with the conversation and then “you guys are still pretty close aren’t you?” Dude you have no idea. And the Cherry on the cake “Could you find out who she’s seeing? - Me” he told you Nate, he told you.

Cece’s words to Dan are cruel, but it is the crux of their relationship,, right until the very end and he deals with it in the worst way possible, and why in his mind, every issue in their relationship is always Serena’s fault. Ugh.

Between Dan and Carter, yeah she should have ended with Carter, too bad Cece’s word weren’t profetic.

I wish we had a clearer view of Blair’s outfit in that scene she’s talking with that New York Times guy, because I think it’s purple, and I wish we had seen her using that color a bit more.

Chuck is so jealous and Blair’s like yeah whatever as if. But a jealous Chuck is scheming Chuck. 

I love Rufus, you go Dan (just for this one time)

I’ve always felt Serena’s look for Cotillion was a lot of gold, not in a good way, but right now? I’m kind of feeling it. And she looks gorgeous. 

I mean I think there was probably a better way to say that Grandma Cece is evil, but still I’m not sure it would have matter Serena didn’t want to listen, she never does actually now that I think of it, the end of S3 comes to mind.

Blair has the funniest lines “I’m gonna go Naomi Campbell on you” Is so sad though that we got to see so little of that Erickson Beamon necklace, it’s lovely.

“Hey Beatiful” oh the things one notices when one no longer hates Carter and VanderBaizen is your second Serena ship.

Lily and Cece’s faces at Serena’s presentation stament are to die for.

The pretty little liars song! But since I haven’t watch that show, this one is going to remain a Gossip Girl song for me.

Seeing Cece and Lily at Cotillion makes me think that Blair’s parents are the worst, it’s their daughter debut and none of them could be bothered to attend the event

It didn’t remember this was the first time they mentioned the Santorini incident, less of all in the way Carter tells it, I thought this was first mentioned in S2, 

Not exactly a fan of Lily’s scene with Dan, because yes I agree at this point for the most part Dan is a good influence, but she almost makes it look like Serenas change is thanks to Dan, and that’s not the case. She had decided to change even before she met him.

Also this is feeding Dan’s ego and his belief that he’s the best thing to happen to his girlfriends. 

Oh Chuck finding out than when it comes to Blair scheming is not an easy feat,  and to think this in only the first time this is going to happen.

Poor Chuck, that hurt. Nate’s wink adding salt to his wounds ouch.

That phone between Ruflus and Lily, yes you shouldn’t have let her go!!!

Oh how I used to like that last scene between Dan and Serena.

Seeing that scene of Cece taking her pills made me think of S5, and that’s probably the episode I hate the most in the whole show.

Blair and Nate finally get to it, but seriously Blair doing it with Nate while wearing the necklace Chuck gave you, is tasteless. Also compared to a certain scene at the start of the episode, this looks a bit dull..

Chuck running away, also him looking at the news paper where Blair is happily smiling with some guy, reminded me again of S5. 

Ending this episode with “Apologize” was so 2007, remember how popular this song was?

This was a really packed episode. It introduces us to Cece, and gaves a bit more insight into Rufus and Lily’s history. We have Jenny picking the UES over her family, she’s changing. A dash of Van der Baizen, and our first glimpse to their shared past. Dan and Serena having another clash of worlds, that ends with Lily finally acepting Dan for real; and finally the end of Chuck and Blair 1.0 and the star of Nate and Blair 2.0.

While interesting Jenny’s and Rufly bits this episode, they’re a small part of the episode, Jenny’s in particular feels like a setting up of events to come and as such I feel I have not much to say about it right now. So this episode Dan and Serena had to deal with quite an opponent: Grandma Cece.

Cece while manipulative did raised some interesting points, mainly how out of place Dan feels in the UES, all those things she mentioned are things that Dan resents about the UES, and he may be brushing it up aside for now, but that doesn’t mean it won’t linger and fester in his mind. And then we have Serena who for some reason (which i can’t help but feel is related to Dan) has decided to ditch Cotillion, the even that according to Lily she wanted to attend since she was much younger, and sure people change, Serena is proof of that but in this case I feel her not going is in part to annoyed her mother but also to prove Dan she’s the girl he thhinks she is, i know I may be projecting my dislike of Dan and Derena on this, but it just feels like that to me, and it’s a troubling aspect of their relationship. Also when Dan mentioned to Serena about Cece’s ploy, she doesn’t believe him, doesn’t want to hear it at first, and I just feel for her because sadly is not the first time she’s going to have to accept that her family is not who she think they were.

Last but not least there’s Chuck and Blair. So their secret fling lasted only a month, since the beginning it took Chuck much less effort to embrace the situation, for all his playboys ways the morning after their first time... he wanted them to get breakfast, and it took him Nate messing up again for him to convince Blair of giving them another chance. So when Nate shows interest in Blair, this is Chuck’s worst nightmare come to life, Blair had her whole life with Nate planned out since she was a little girl, she only gave up on that dream when it was clear Nate wanted no part of it, and sure Chuck knows the potential they have, he lowkey always knew, and that’s why he falls so fast, because subconciously he was halfway there since foreve, but it’s very hard to compete with years of Nate, Nate Nate, in Blairs head. So he panics, he gets jealous... and he plots. And it backfires horribly. And for the first time in his life he gets his heart broken.

I don’t judge Blair on this one though because well she knows Chuck, he has an agenda always, and him being Chuck Bass it never occurs to her that he may be realy into her beyond just sex, to her all they being doing is fooling around, she tells Chuck that he needs to learned to behave for them to move to something more, and Chuck behaving is an eufemism of so many things: trust,knowing that she matters to him enough, that he cares. And that’s a big step and it’s a conversation that needed to happen.. and then it doesn’t. Thanks Nate. But really having Nate finally wanting her, and then Chuck seemingly only caring for himself and his own amusement is not suprise she picks Nate. 

I do feel for Chuck because when he gets desperate he doesn’t think properly at all,  he knows Blair, how smart she is and that she’s a good at him at plotting and manipulation,and yet he fails to take that into account, like this episode, he wants Nate to cause a scene to shatter Blair’s image of Nate, because she tells him he would never, so it’s not hard for Blair to see that Nate only caused one because Chuck manipulated into it, it’s transparent. And this is a lesson that sadly he’s not going to learn anytime soon. 

Random bits I would like to mention: ( a bit surprised I got so many for this episode)

So Blair’s birthday is the 15th of november, this means Chuck and Blair version 1.0 lasted a month. Common knowledge I suppose, but I’ve read fanfics where the timeline is much shorter. 

A bit of personal trivia: I love the song “you’re a wolf” (the one playing when Chuck and Blair are making out) and last year was kind of weird for me and I had like a thousand mood changes so anyway, so there was one week I started listening to this song, and I just couldn’t stop re playing it, just so out of nowhere, I played it so much, it ended up being my most played song last year according to Spotify. 

I remember when the type of purse Jenny has was on fashion, and it was cool because it got to the point that street markets they were sold really cheap because they made them out or recycled materials

Chuck tells to Nate that “like the book says she’s just not that into you” and it made think that this was so long ago that there was only the book, the movie wasn’t out yet, wow.. 

I wonder what would have happened if she hadn’t fight with Dan, because then Carter wouldn’t have been at Cotillion, and then the drama between Chuc, Blair and Nate could have ended up in a completely different way.

The Palace does likes like a good place to have the Cotillion, not sure that would have been the case in real life, but here it fits nicely.

Irrelevant but apparently Kati and Is do everything together at such an extent they were scorted by two guys that I guess were brothers because they had the same last name.

You won’t believe but The Pierces have a 2020 version of Secret, it came out on my new releases list on Spotify last week.

[avintagekiss24]

The Arrangement

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Original WOC Female Character

Warnings: Some language (like 1 I think, lol), very little mention of sex

Summary: The United States has three distinct factions, The North, The South, and The West. War has broken out once again, and the only way to stop it, is for the King of The North and the impending Queen of The South to come together.

Word count: 2848

A/N: This is my first attempt at Royalty and steampunk, lol. So, for a little background, the year is 2019 and most of our technology is available (cellphones/google...). The dress attire/state of the country is 1800s. This is square B4 - Royalty for my Bucky Barnes Bingo card.

     You roll your eyes as you stand at the end of your bed, hands clasped around the bed post as your mother tightens your corset rather violently. Your attitude has been horrendous since your mother had first enlightened you to this deal that was struck, but today, you are unmanageable. You swore, you screamed, you cried… this isn’t what you wanted for yourself. You had even tried to run, but of course, the servants tipped off your mother and sister, who dragged you back into the mansion, up into your room, and have been giving you quite the tongue lashing ever since.

       “I swear, I don’t know what gets into you!” Your mother mumbles as she pulls harshly on the strings of your lace corset.

       “She doesn’t deserve it mother, I’ve tried to tell you.” Your sister spouts from her spot on the bed.

       “Hush!”

       You smirk at the younger brat you call sister as your body jerks from your mother’s heavy handed motions behind you, “You will be Queen one day, do you get that?”

       “Of course I do!” You nearly scream, “I’ve been trained my whole life mother-”

       “Don’t you take that tone with me!”

     “Why do I have to do this?” You whine.

     Your mother takes a breath, “This is your lot in life, baby. Being Queen doesn’t mean just sitting around and eating grapes.This job has responsibility.”

     You whirl around to face her, your eyes puffy and red, your cheeks stained with the emotion that leaks from your eyes, “And this is my responsibility? Being auctioned off like some cow!”

    “Avinnia-”

    “No! I can rule on my own! You did, before you met daddy, I can do that same!”

    “It isn’t about that! We have to end this war and this is the only way that I can see that happening!”

    “By marrying the King of The North? Against my will, at that!”

    “Yes!” Your mother hisses, “We’ve been working very hard and for a very long time to reach an agreement. You have to understand Avinnia, this is bigger than you. This marriage, your reign as King and Queen could bring the United States back together, once and for all.” She shakes her head slightly, reaching out to cup your face, “The two of you could be the most prolific leaders of this country.”

    You lower your head as her words fall over you, “I can be prolific on my own.”

    Your mother smiles a toothless smile. She loves you dearly, your strength and defiance the most, “You are prolific, darling. Just because your marrying, doesn’t mean you’re losing who you are.”

    You are Avinnia Monroe. First born daughter of Queen Angela Abrams-Monroe. You are reining princess, and soon to be Queen of The South. The United States had been fractured for years, long before you were born. Hard lines were drawn in the sand; neither side could come to an agreement. So, they agreed to disagree. Democracy fell soon after, and war, death, famine, rippled through the country for years. The States then split into three separate entities - The North, The South, and The West. Each faction elected their own leaders, their own parliaments, wrote their own laws. After years of negotiations, the three factions finally came to an agreement to cease fire, to live amicably, but there has been unrest in The West, and they rose some four years ago, and war fell upon the country again. They only way to stop it is for The North and The South to join forces. The only way for that to happen? An arranged marriage between the King of The North, and the impending Queen of The South.

    “You know,” Your mother's voice is softer now, “He isn’t that thrilled about marrying you, either.” You huff, rolling your eyes as you exhale deeply, “He was just as against it as you were when his father, god rest his soul, proposed the idea.”

    “Well he should be thrilled.” You spit, “He’s marrying a graceful woman of manners. What do I get in return? A rude, foul mouthed New Yorker.” You grimace at the words.

    Your mother laughs lightly. She wishes there was another way, she really does. Your spirit is one to be reckoned with, and she doesn’t want it stifled. “I know you don’t want this, baby.”

    You close your eyes, taking another deep breath, “But, this is bigger than me.”

    “Just think,” Your mother whispers, “You could end up being happy.”

    You let out an exhausted breath, “I don’t know him. How could I possibly end up happy?”

    She drops her eyes, your words pulling at her heart strings, “If you end this war, force the Wilsons' out of power in The West, you’ll rule this whole land, my girl.” Her voice is soft, “You’ll be a better Queen than I ever was.”

    You bring your big brown eyes up to meet hers, “I still don’t want to do it.” You whisper, “I want my own life. My own legacy.”

    “Then let me marry him.” Your sister chirps again, “I won’t turn down a chance to be Queen of the entire United States.”

    “Shut up Serena!” You growl, whipping back to face her.

    “You’re being a brat.”

    “Why don’t you talk to me when you’re being sold off to a man you don’t even know. Oh wait, you’ll never know how that feels, second born. People don’t even know your name.”

    “Girls! Stop it.”

    Serena stands, fixing her light pink Victorian dress, before she steps toward you. You stare at each other, neither one giving way as you raise an eyebrow when a knock comes at the door. Natasha peeks in first, with Wanda and Shuri in tow. Your face lights up as Serena scoffs in disgust, pushing past your three very best friends.

    “We could hear you screaming from the street, your highness!” Shuri laughs, throwing a curtsy your way.

    “Shuri!” You hold out your arms, wrapping them around her as she falls into you, “You came all the way from Wakanda just to see me?”

    “Of course! I can’t let my pen pal go through this trying time alone! I mean, the horror that I felt when you told me you’d be marrying a king!” She quips as she pretends to be shocked and horrified.

    “Oh, don’t you start.” You smile while tutting at her.

    “Girls, please help my daughter get dressed. The King of The North will be here within the hour.” Your mother leans in and pecks your cheek before making her leave.

    “Still upset?” Natasha asks as her pale yellow dressed drags along the floor behind her, her perfect red curls framing her face.

    “Wouldn’t you be?”

    She smiles softly, “It’s not so bad. We’ll be with you every step of the way. Plus, it’s not like you have to marry him today.” She laughs a little, poking you in your ribs, “It’s just a first meeting is all.”

    “Plus,” Wanda says, pushing her phone in your face, “King Barnes is a dream. Look at him!”

    You take the phone from her, your eyes drifting along the screen over the handsome King James Buchanan “Bucky” Barnes. You quirk your lip, sending your eyebrows toward the ceiling before handing the mobile phone back to your friend, “It’s not about looks, Wanda.”

    “Honestly though, it should be, because damn.” She quips.

    The four of you lose time as they push you into your red satin, lace trimmed ball gown. Wanda works on pinning up your naturally curly, course, black hair as Shuri and Natasha powder your face, applying lipstick and eyeliner. Shuri pats at the tops of your breasts and cleavage with the small white brush, adding a little powder.

    You swat at her hands, giggling all the while, “Will you stop it?”

    She shrugs, “If you’re going to put them on display, you should make them pretty.”

    A knock comes at the door, alerting the four of you. William, one of the many hands on the property, clears his throat before speaking through the door, “Your highness, your presence has been requested down on the veranda.”

    Your heart flutters in your chest, butterflies fluttering through your veins. You let out a breath as you place your hand on your stomach, “He’s here?”

    “Indeed, your highness.”

    “Shit.”

    Your friends begin showering you with compliments, poking and prodding at you and your dress as you move toward the door. William opens the door and you move out into the long hallway, your heels clicking against the marble floors. Shuri, Natasha, and Wanda escort you down the long winding staircase, Shuri pushing the material of your dress out as it falls against the steps behind you. You stop at the french doors that lead toward the lavish veranda. You blink quickly and furiously as you try to remember to breathe in through your nose, and out through your mouth.

    “You don’t have to marry him today, remember that.” Natasha reminds you.

    “Yeah,” you scoff, “Just three months from now. Big difference, right?”

    “Just… be nice.”

    You shoot her a look before pushing through the doors and heading out into the naturally warm Atlanta afternoon. Your mother and father turn to face you, a bright, proud smile covering your mother's face. A third person turns to face you a few seconds later. Your breath hitches in your throat and you falter in your steps just slightly. Google does him absolutely no justice. His jaw is square and tight, dark stubble covering his lower face and chin. His hair is long and loose, slightly wavy, and reaches just to the top of his shoulders. His blue eyes pierce yours underneath the sunlight, almost staring right through you. He’s dressed in his military uniform, the gold buttons of his jacket glinting in the sun, medals hanging from the pockets. Wanda was right - look at him.

    When you finally reach the threesome, you curtsy slightly to greet him, “King James.”

    “Princess.” He greets in response, bowing his head slightly, “Call me Bucky, please.”

    He’s a stern man, you can tell by his slightly frosty demeanor. This arrangement should be lovely. And what kind of name is Bucky anyway? Only a New Yorker, you swear. You listen in as negotiations and talks of the war soon commence, piping in whenever you could, not only to voice your position but to show King Bucky that you have no intention on just sitting idly by. You are by right a Queen, and you will be involved, whether he finds it appropriate or not.

    “We should let you two get to know each other, hmm?” Your mother hums, “We’ll call you both for dinner? Avinnia, why don’t you show him the grounds.”

    You sigh inwardly but hold out your dainty hand, allowing your reluctant suitor to grasp it. The two of you move silently off of the veranda, pushing out onto the grass as you make your way through the lavish estate. The King keeps his hands clasped behind his back, glancing around the garden. You stop suddenly, turning toward him, catching him slightly off guard. He stops, pursing his lips and squinting his eyes as he waits for you to say something.

    “I don’t want to marry you.” You state firmly, “I think it’s barbaric. And, I hate New York.”

    He smiles slowly. You can see the wheels spinning in his head, “Well, I don’t want to marry you either, but we have responsibilities.” He starts walking again, his white gloved hands still placed behind his back, “Georgia is disgustingly hot.”

    “I’ll take the heat over those nasty winters any day, King James.”

    “Bucky.” He answers firmly.

    You roll your eyes again, but move with him, joining his side, “I’m tired of hearing about responsibilities. There has to be another way we can make The West surrender without either one of us having to deal with each other for life.”

    “You don’t think we’ve been working on a solution? Neither The North nor The South has enough army to take The West one on one. The only way to force our will, is to unite. Unfortunately, marriage is the only option to not cause a rebellion on either side. We’ll have executive power.”

    You huff again, turning your head away from him. He’s right, you know it, your mother knows it, as much as you want to discount it. You don’t catch him glancing over at you, looking you up and down as the two of you walk slowly. You don’t catch the small smile that paints his face, nor do you realize how intriguing he finds you. He likes your wit and attitude, and all of the mouth that comes with you. You’re winning him over minute by minute. “I know this isn’t ideal,” He says gently after a moment or two, pulling at the glove that covers his left hand, “But we can make this work. We just need to be… open to it.”

    You turn your attention to him after he speaks and gasp lightly as he reaches out toward the sturdy, old Magnolia tree. His metal fingers bounce the rich sunlight off of them as he plucks a small, pink flower from the branches, keeping his eyes on it, “What happened?” You ask in a whisper, your voice airy.

    He glances down at his hand, then over at you, “War injury. Almost five years ago now.”

    “Just your hand?”

    He shakes his head, “The whole arm.”

    Your mouth falls open as you can’t take your eyes off of his metal appendage. You reach out unexpectedly, drawing his arm toward you. He watches you as you turn his hand over in yours, your eyes grazing over the impressive craftsmanship of this… thing. Most people, most women, become afraid of him once they see it; don’t want him to touch them without him having to assure and reassure that he won’t hurt them. But not you. He likes that. You hold up his hand and flatten yours against it, palm to palm as a small, wondrous smile spreads on your face.

    “Can you feel that?” Your voice is still in a whisper. Still airy.

    “Of course.”

    You are enamored with this discovery. It adds a little intrigue to the King, something you didn’t think was possible. He isn’t so boring after all. “You’re a soldier.”

    “I was before my father passed. I was a Sergeant.”

    “Sergeant Barnes.” You repeat softly. You like the ring of that- Sergeant Barnes.

    You let your fingers curl slightly around his metal digits, taking in the feeling of them against your skin. The metal is slightly cool to touch and, dare you say, soft. Smooth, rather. Just for a moment, you let yourself flash an intimate scene before your eyes.Those metallic fingers grazing over your nipples and breasts. In between your thighs; caressing your forbidden slick folds as he whispers his sweet nothings in your ear from behind. Oh.

    “So,” You start carefully, “You can tell if a plum is ripe with this, you're saying.”

    His lips turn upward slightly, quirking into a soft smile, “Indeed I can. I rank among the best in New York when it comes to picking a ripe plum.”

    He has a slight sense of humor. You like that. “Plums are my favorite.” You add, keeping your eyes steadily on his.

    “Mine too.”

    A soft breeze whips around the two of you in that moment, tossing strands of your curly hair into your face. He likes that too. Your hair. He eyes dip down your face and to your chest, skimming along your exposed brown skin as the sun kisses you. You drop your hand and he drops his, but offers you the small, pink flower from the Magnolia. You take it and bring it to your nose, smelling it before lifting your eyes toward his again. You smile slowly. It’s a sly smile, almost mischievous. You’re not quite sure what happened within the last few seconds, but King James- no, King Bucky, isn’t so bad.

    “We can make this work.” He states simply again, his interest in you completely piqued. The air between you has taken a obvious turn from uptight and reluctant, giving him the slightest sliver of hope.

    He stares at you with sincerity rolling through his eyes. You let your eyes linger on him for a few seconds before dropping them to the flower still in your hands, “Possibly.”

    He smiles, but this time it’s a brilliant one. One that puts his perfect white teeth on display. One that reaches his blue eyes, making them sparkle underneath the sunlight. He chuckles and you are oddly proud of yourself. You like making him laugh turns out. He holds out his flesh hand toward you and waits patiently as you contemplate taking it. After a moment, you cross behind him, joining him on his left and take his metal fingers in yours.

    He drops his head, smiling to himself as the two of you begin your leisurely stroll again, “Possibly.” He repeats.

[serenagaywaterford]

was I the only one who thought tuello was going to mention the 2x10 rape and not the nick thing when he arrested serena??? like, obviously I understand the thing with nick was rape regardless, but she did ask them both and june would've ended up in the colonies had she not gotten pregnant while the 2x10 rape doesn't really have any sustainable justification behind it. I don't see "I was in a mood and wanted the baby to come faster" working in court (1/2)

and I guess you can argue there's no way to prove that that rape happened, but serena got arrested before any paternal test was done so it seems as if fred's word is enough?? I guess they can get the test done later and confirm it, but I don't know, I feel like there's a way out of this for serena whilst I don't think there would've been a way out if they had proof of what happened in 2x10. I just find this flimsy. (2/2)

---

No, you weren’t! I honestly... I thought it was going to be about her actual war crimes, like her blatant terrorism against the US, conspiracy to blow up state capitols, and overthrowing a democratic government via war. But hey, that’s too easy lol. Like, why on earth Fred wouldn’t turn her in for THAT, which are HUGE crimes that the ICC/Americans/etc would actually be interested in is beyond me. Oh wait, no it’s not, cos this is The Handmaid’s Tale and they don’t know shit about law or politics, or at this point common fucking sense. It’s a soap opera now.

I’m just so irritated by that whole “Let’s arrest Serena for rape!” concept because it’s entirely based on a) an individual and singular crime against a single person on foreign (sovereign) soil; not a war crime (so why the ICC would have ANYTHING to do with it is beyond me) and b) FRED WATERFORD’S WORD. Because suddenly they believe everything an admitted war criminal is saying against the woman who literally turned him in???? No, nothing suspect about that at all.

(The American government may have an interest because they do get involved in individual crimes against Americans on foreign soil. But then it gets into whether June is still an American, legally. And whether Serena is. Which is super confusing and murky. I’d say June is, and Serena likely isn’t since she probably renounced her US citizenship, but I’m also not a legal scholar or lawyer. And whether the international community even considers Gilead its own country, or just some type of military occupation on American soil. SO COMPLICATED. This is why the show should have just stayed away from all of this trash.)

I mean, we know Fred’s not lying about what happened to June then but the fact Tuello & Co. just take his word at face value with NO corroboration is absolutely fucking mental. 

Not to mention, how the FUCK does Fred even know about that? All he knows is that June got pregnant with Nick’s baby. Was he secretly listening the entire time to everything Serena has said? Cos, let’s take a step back for a second and think rationally about how the hell Fred would have access to that information lol. Serena, from what we saw, was incredibly discreet about setting it up. Was Fred actually lurking in her bushes when she talked to June about it? Was he around when Serena supposedly spoke to Nick about it? (We don’t know where that was but probably either in Nick’s apartment or in the car.) So, does Fred actually have the whole house bugged? LOLOLOLOL. Even if he saw Serena bringing June out to Nick’s apartment, he has no idea what anybody’s thoughts or feelings were about that. Serena and June could have easily been in on it together, and there was no rape involved at all! He doesn’t know that. Did he sneak up to Nick’s second floor window and watch how fucking WEIRD that whole thing was? LMAO.

To me, the fact Fred knows all that is a fucking big plot hole. He didn’t before. But suddenly he knows Serena set up Offred’s rape by Nick? Did she tell him that? Cos that would be insane of Serena to do and completely OOC. All Serena’s said is that “HA HA! The baby isn’t yours, you manky chode!”

Anyway...

To be frank, I have a post--quite a long one--sitting in my drafts about how incredibly asinine and unrealistic that charge against Serena is as a “war crime”, not to mention how weak it is just from a legal standpoint, even if we would take it as a regular rape charge. (She would literally never be found guilty, lbr. There is no solid legal basis for it (there is a flimsy one) and when you consider her defense--which is way more solid than the charge--the chances of anybody ever prosecuting her for that, let alone convicting her, are so incredibly thin, even if it was just as a regular rape crime, not a war crime.) She’d be more likely charged with something like sex trafficking or procuring (prostitution) or coercion or accessory to rape and/or conspiracy to rape. (And she’s clearly guilty of those things). Not the rape itself. It’s so! fucking! stupid! Sex trafficking would be SO much more solid of a charge cos essentially that is what she did...

She didn’t rape June in that instance much more than she murdered those kids Fred shot in the woods. She’s a shitty fucking person for putting that idea in his head, and basically saying, “Go do this for me, you pathetic little man” but she didn’t actually say the words, nor did she commit the actual crime herself. (Heyyyyaaa Lady Macbeth!) Both Fred and Nick were acting of their own free will. 

(Honestly, I will go on forever about how Nick is NOT some innocent, helpless creature. He’s a MAN (aka automatic superiority over any woman), and an EYE (AN EYE, YOU GUYS!!!! The most elite of the Gilead intelligence forces!!!), and to refuse Serena’s request would be EXPLICITLY FOLLOWING THE LAWS OF GILEAD and there is NO WAY he would ever, ever be punished by Gilead for that lmao--for following the law. If he reported Serena to Fred or even Pryce, Serena would be fucking punished--probably with death or Colonies (which is just prolonged death). And he’d have June’s supporting testimony too! What part of this misogynistic fascist state are you people missing? A lowly woman trying to make a man break the law and defile another man’s property?! HAHAHAHA. As if they’d take Serena’s side. Nick is a fucking Eye. There are instances where they do take a woman’s side, like with Janine’s random accusation--but significantly: Warren was BREAKING the law, not upholding it as Nick refusing to rape Offred and turning Serena in would have been following the law. To me, it never ever made sense that the men would just turn on their own like that over a literally mentally-ill Handmaid’s suicidal admission. I think, when it comes down to it, Naomi’s contribution made it “two witnesses” to the crime. Like, if you look at most religious texts or cult texts, they generally require more than just the victim. Some require at least 2, some 3 individuals. So for Gilead to require nothing but victim outcry is bonkers and not consistent with the type of society they claim they’ve built in the series. BUT ANYWAY, that’s a big digression...

Like miss me with that complete utter rape-apologist bullshit. He literally took advantage of the situation to put his dick inside a woman who did not essentially consent to it in that particular situation. Or, if you’re going to argue she did cos she wuvs Nick and wanted to anyway, then your case against Serena falls apart too.)

The only thing I don’t see as being up for debate is that June was raped. That’s it. That is clear and certain. It’s fact. June was raped in that apartment. (She’s raped a lot, obviously, but this was also rape. Nothing else.)

And the creepy part is by doing that she actually did save June’s life. Which is all shades of massively fucked up, and probably not her intention, but here we are. And it seems to be a big part of why June went along with the plan. If Serena hadn’t set up a rapey fuck session for Nick (which he LITERALLY COULD HAVE SAID NO TO AT ANY TIME WITH ZERO CONSEQUENCES and they could have fucked completely consentually another time), June never would have started sleeping with Nick (they had almost 2 years and never made a move on each other lbr), never would have become pregnant, and in a few months would have been sent off to the Colonies to rot. Serena is just going around saving June’s life and not even trying to lmao. Stupid gross idiot. Yes, June agreed under threat of death otherwise. So, that is NOT consent in any universe. If you must do it for survival, it’s rape. If you’re gonna die or agree to sex, that’s rape. Would she have agreed to get raped by Nick if the threat of the Colonies was not hanging over her head? No. Probably not. And Serena used that for her own ends. There is no way Serena is not a shitty criminal person for what she set up. But it’s also not a fucking crime against humanity, by definition.

So, anyway, without going into all the complexities and bullshit about Nick’s role any further, Serena’s role, etc in all this, it’s just absolutely motherfucking insane that any international law enforcement agency would charge Serena with THAT based on the word of a scorned husband who is also a massive rapist, liar, abuser, and war criminal himself. Like, give me a fucking break already.

And... I’m not gonna lie... if this was even remotely based on history/reality, they would turn a blind eye to anything Serena has done, especially if it was on such a small scale as one instance of sex trafficking. Sounds terrible to put it that way, but that is how these things roll. She’s a small little fish, comparatively. In the grand scheme of things, she’s FAR more valuable as a witness/asset against the Big Fish (Fred) and as a tool for their anti-Gileadean use. Unless they had significant evidence about ALL her crimes. She’s so much more useful as someone who has direct experience and witness to the entire rise of Gilead, including all the massive fucking terrorist crimes against an entire government and mass murders, that Fred et al. committed. To go after Serena so soon is just kneecapping their own damn case against Fred/Gilead lmao.

[This is where the rumours about Rita come in, but here’s the thing, Serena was already granted immunity for what she did under the guise of being a “Wife”. And seriously, what does Rita really know anyway? Serena’s smacked some people around. She’s locked June in her room. She makes June cry and drink gross smoothies. She helps with the Ceremony. She--with the entire system--forced surrogacy and basically kidnapped a baby. Those things, from what I can tell, are perfectly legal in Gilead for a Wife to do, just like it’s perfectly legal for Fred to whip the shit out of Serena--and Serena has been granted immunity for that shit (which is sorta funny in a way cos she basically used the Nuremberg defense, but it’s layered because she was actually a victim of Gilead too. Tricky shit). 

Now, that 2x10 rape is pretty fucking awful (and likely NOT Gilead-legal) and I’m almost certain Rita would have known about that in some way--but she also wasn’t a direct witness. But maybe she doesn’t? It would be fucking stupid of the Waterfords to be like, “Hurr durr let’s illegally pregnancy rape the Handmaid with a Martha an/or Guardian around even tho it comes with a punishment of DEATH!” But I suppose they are not exactly the sharpest tools in the shed either... 

Maybe she knows about the Rapey Sex Date Serena set up for Nick, maybe not, also not a witness to it. We can make assumptions about what Rita knows and doesn’t know, but also... like, none of that matters? (Yet.) Those are just regular fucking crimes on foreign soil and the American and Canadian governments have no jurisdiction to prosecuting them. War crimes require different criteria and Serena smacking Rita in the face isn’t a war crime. It’s shitty assault, but not something any international body would EVER go after.]

Anyway, the show is stupid af for suggesting they’d go after Serena for that singular instance of rape as a war crime. Crimes against humanity--of which YES sexual slavery (sex trafficking in this way) is--require widespread and/or systematic implementation. Serena was NOT going around making all Guardians rape Handmaids for her to get a baby. (Gilead however, and FRED WATERFORD specifically, were directly responsible for the SYSTEM of massive sexual slavery that they created AND maintained. Serena didn’t even come up with the Handmaid idea--THAT WAS THE MEN IN THAT DAMN CAR (Hi Nick, you were there too!).) 

Like... ugh. Stick with what you know, THT. Cos clearly it isn’t anything remotely in the legal realm.

But hey, they had to make up some way to either put Serena on trial for an entire season (YAWNNNNN), or send her back to Gilead. If it’s for the latter reason, and it means we’ll revisit the June/Serena dynamic as the core component of the show, then I’ll let it slide but if it’s to set up the Miller Wet Dream Trial Season and keep Fred/Serena forced together, then I’m livid.

Not that I should care at all considering how many times I’ve said I’m not even watching it anymore, heh.