#lets just say there are things that willa chooses not to remember & things that she literally cant remember (at least... not yet) | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

tallycraven · 4 years

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brainwashed!raelle pt.4

(pt. 1) (pt. 2) (pt. 3)

Consciousness finds her in a curious state. Scylla’s sure she’s not supposed to be… well, alive. But she’s vaguely aware of sensations that aren’t just nothingness. Stimuli like rough fabric against her forearms, stale air that smells like rubbing alcohol, and the quiet hum of a ceiling fan.

If she is dead (and therefore in hell), then she wonders if she’s done enough bad things in her life to actually have gained some sort of captaincy in the hierarchy of hell.

That thought leaves as quickly as it came.

Scylla keeps her eyes closed, but starts running diagnostics on her condition. Small wiggles of her toes, gentle clenching of her fingers. All the tiny movements correspond to the feeling of fabric moving against her, so she ticks paralysis off the list.

After deciding that, yes she’s alive and yes she’s somewhere tentatively safe, she discovers an uncomfortable dryness to her mouth and throat.

As well as an invasive distress over the thought of Raelle.

In the end, the latter thought is what gets Scylla to open her eyes.

Thankfully, she spots a glass of water on the bed stand as well as a sticky note with large, rounded handwriting that says, ‘YOU’RE SAFE, FOUGHT SPREE, WON, RAELLE’S OKAY, FOOD DOWNSTAIRS (probably), XO TALLY ☺︎’

Scylla finds herself staring at the page with squinted eyes and furrowed brows, frowning at it for only a second before the use of her face muscles send a dull throb of pain across her cheeks.

Why does Tally write like that?

A small examination of herself afterwards tells her that she’s been tended to by a decent fixer; the gash in her abdomen has been healed into an ugly scar, her lips have been mended, and the worst of most bruises have been lightened into a yellowing purple.

She’s most thankful that her eye’s not swollen anymore; bloodshot and bruised, yes, but she can see and that’s really all she could ask for.

The house is decently large, she discovers, as she peaks out the window to see that they’re somewhere along the coast, on some sort of private property with trimmed hedges and a beautiful paved driveway leading down a private road.

She finds her way downstairs, taking small breaks to look out the windows at the clouded red-blue skies and steady waves washing onto the shore. It looks beautiful out.

Maybe she is dead and somehow scammed her way into heaven.

She kicks that back into the corner it came from as she descends the stairs (easier than she thought—good job, legs) and rounds the corner to find Tally Craven and Abigail Bellweather seated at a kitchen countertop, eating cereal.

Tally’s face blooms into a delighted smile, even Abigail gives her a small smile and nod of her head.

They explain what happened.

After Scylla went missing, Tally and Abigail went into high gear, tracing tracks that led out of the room that Scylla was stolen from back to a Spree hideout that then opened up an entire avenue of clues.

It took them a while to find the right thread, but when they did, they coordinated a small strike team with Anacostia’s approval and found Scylla and Raelle at a small house on the outskirts of Boston.

They successfully cleared the house and captured everyone inside, including one Willa Collar.

That was four days ago; now they’re staying low in one of the several Bellweather vacation homes, tucked safe for a little while until Petra and Anacostia can ensure no one else is after Raelle or Scylla.

Tally apologizes for taking so long.

Scylla shrugs and thanks her for even showing up at all.

The silence that stretches between the three of them awkwardly and Scylla opens her mouth to say, “So Raelle—“ at the same time Abigail says, “She’s not okay.”

Scylla can’t help but jump into full panic mode.

“Not okay? But the note said she was, have you found a fixer that can help? What’s wrong? Where is she?”

“Whoa, whoa, hey. Slow down.”

Scylla’s not sure how Abigail expects her to slow down when she just told her that Raelle’s not okay.

“She’s fine physically,” Abigail clarifies, “but mentally—emotionally, she’s not doing the best.”

Raelle spends every day spaced out, existing for brief moments with Abigail and Tally only when they force her to sit down for meals.

Otherwise, she’s either locked in her room at the house or sitting out on the private beach, barefoot in the sand and staring out at the Atlantic Ocean.

Sometimes nothing feels real; it takes her a second to remember which thread of memory actually happened.

Sometimes she sees Tally and Abigail alive and unexplainable relief and joy flood her body.

Sometimes a flash of light causes her to jump, the phantom memory of a mind-shattering windstrike crashing into her.

Other times, she remembers the feeling of her fist colliding with Scylla’s face. Her hands shake uncontrollably when her brain insists that yes, that’s this existence. That yes, that actually happened.

Time flows like tar and water all at once; everything blends and fractures. There have been moments where she thinks she’s finally lost the thread.

Raelle doesn’t know how to handle the oppressive guilt in her core. The way her stomach turns with disgust at herself.

So she spends her time away from her friends, away from mirrors, away from having to hear her own voice.

She digs her fingers into the sand and brings handfuls of it up at a time, feels the way each grain slips through her grasp— tries to imagine the sand like her thoughts, slipping and collapsing into piles of nothing.

It helps, sometimes.

At least the violent headaches have simmered down into insignificantly annoying ones that press against her temples whenever she overthinks the past.

She tries her hardest to remember the feeling of Tally’s arms wrapping around her, pulling her back from Scylla’s broken body and trapping her beneath her weight as she thrashed for freedom.

Pushes a cold hand to her forehead where Tally had pressed two thumbs and undone whatever had been done to her in one haphazard go.

Izadora had shown surprise that Raelle hadn’t been lobotomized.

Tally had looked appropriately horrified at that prospect.

Raelle kind of wishes she had been lobotomized.

Then she wouldn’t have panic attacks every time she tried to approach the door of the room that she knows Scylla is recovering in.

But every time she tries to open the door, the sight of a dead Scylla flashes before her. Bloodied, beaten, cold, dead Scylla lying in that cadaver locker.

The memory of driving a knife into Scylla, the way she’d screamed. The resulting sense of vengeance and satisfaction that had come from it.

So she can’t. She can’t open that door. She can’t bare to look at Scylla. Worries about when Scylla will wake up not only because she really wants Scylla to wake up and be okay but also because she has no idea how she’ll ever be able to be in the same room as Scylla ever again without feeling like the worst piece of shit on Earth.

Raelle presses the heels of her palms against her eyes, wishing that the pressure could push the images away from her despite them being burnt into her eyelids.

She collapses back into the sand and stares up at the darkening sky, dreading going back up to the house. Dreading having to look Tally and Abigail in the face because she still feels like she failed them somehow.

But the sun is setting and if she doesn’t go back, they’ll come looking for her. There’s nothing that would make her feel worse than them worrying any more than they already do, so she drags herself back up, prepares for Abigail’s concerned looks and Tally’s warm hugs.

What she finds instead is Scylla, standing in the kitchen with Tally and Abigail.

Time freezes and Raelle forgets how to be.

She doesn’t know if she should turn around and walk back into the dark or fall to her knees and beg for forgiveness or just go upstairs to let herself lose it in the silence of her own room.

So she kinda just… stands there, in the archway leading to the kitchen, staring with her mouth slightly open.

Scylla’s painted in bruises, but she looks considerably better than when they first got here. There’s purple flowering across her left cheek, bruises dotting her arms, a red smudge in the corner of her eye where blood vessels had been broken.

It’s stupid that she wishes she was the one who helped heal Scylla.

Abigail and Tally share this look that Raelle only passingly notices before they start cleaning up.

She’s not sure how long she stands there for, but Abigail gives her a supportive smile and shoulder pat as she brushes past her to leave the room, quickly followed by Tally who gives Scylla a kind nod before hugging Raelle and leaving the room as well.

Abandoning Raelle to stand in silence with Scylla, who’s watching her quietly.

She hates that she can’t read what Scylla’s feeling.

It’s enough to make Raelle start to turn and leave the room, choosing flight over fight.

But then Scylla’s voice, hoarse from disuse, cuts through the silence.

“Please stay.”

Who is Raelle to say no after all she’s done?

She stands, awkwardly, rooted to the ground. Feels like her feet are glued to the floor so that she can’t move forwards or backwards. Stuck in a limbo that she’s made herself.

It feels like there are a million miles that stretch between them, cavernous and dangerous— too full of hazards and history to tread.

But then Scylla smiles.

Smiles like Raelle hadn’t tortured her until she was an inch away from death.

Smiles like her face doesn’t ache from the bruises that Raelle put there.

Smiles like forgiveness comes easy and love comes easier.

And Raelle breaks.

She covers a million miles in two large steps and falls into Scylla’s waiting arms.

It feels like a dam has burst inside her chest and she can’t stop the tears or sobs that wrack her body. It’s the first time she’s let herself cry since Tally and Abigail pulled them from the Spree safehouse.

Scylla feels solid against her. Solid, warm, and safe. The resulting flood of pure relief in Raelle only makes her sob harder.

Her hands are shaking too bad to even hold onto Scylla properly, so she settles for pressing her palms into Scylla’s back. For a moment she thinks Scylla might slip through her fingers like sand, but she doesn’t.

She clings onto Raelle just as hard, one hand threaded into her hair and the other stroking down her back in calming passes, pressing kisses to the side of Raelle’s head.

They stay like that for a long time— long enough that Tally eventually slips back into the kitchen with a bag of newly-attained groceries and a sheepish smile.

Abigail is less apologetic with her intrusion when she delivers a heavy pat on Raelle back and announces, “Okay, enough of this. Help us make dinner.”

Progress is slow. It turns out recovery’s not easy; healing’s not easy.

Raelle’s hands shake more often than not and when she finally does sleep, her dreams are often nightmares.

Nightmares of being stuck in her own body while she does dreadful things against her own will and control. Nightmares where reality isn’t real and her friends are dead and Scylla is her enemy.

She wakes up with the memory of a headache pushing against her skull.

A couple days later, she sees Scylla flinch when Abigail quickly raises her arm to throw something towards the trashcan from across the kitchen. The resulting wave of remorse is enough to crush her.

They don’t speak about what happened; Raelle doesn’t know where to start.

She’s getting ready to go down to the beach when Tally breezes past her with nothing more than a, “baby steps are better than standing still.”

It’s said without judgement, just a kind smile.

But Raelle still feels slighted because how could Tally possibly know where to begin when she’s not the one who has to live with the shaking hands and nightmares and the horrible pain of remembering?

The idea seems less difficult when Scylla sits by her in the sand, though.

Raelle had been sitting there on her own when Scylla wandered up and plopped down neatly beside her without a word.

Now the other girl is just laying down in the warm sand, staring up at the cloudy sky, fingers burying themselves in the sand and staying there.

It takes Raelle a laughable amount of time and digging her fingers into the sand to finally break through the mental wall to stay still and turn to look at Scylla.

“I’m sorry.”

She’s staring straight ahead at the ocean, avoiding looking at Scylla when she hears a small laugh.

“I forgive you.”

Raelle only turns because she can tell Scylla is smiling. She looks down at Scylla and the other girl just smiles back, soft and tender and honest.

“We all have things we regret doing.” Her shrug is awkward, pushing sand up by he neck like little dunes. “You don’t have to carry yours around like the weight of the world.”

“But I hurt you. I almost killed…” How pathetic is it that she can’t finish that thought.

Scylla’s hand unearths itself from the sand to inch towards Raelle’s, gently brushes her pinky against Raelle’s wrist.

“But you didn’t. And it wasn’t you. Not the real you, anyway.”

“I hurt you.” She’s a broken record, but she can’t get it out of her head.

“Do you regret it?”

Raelle looks at Scylla like she has two heads, says nothing because of course she does.

Scylla sits up, brushing sand from her loose-fitting white shirt and just smiles again.

“Then I forgive you.” Scylla says, easy as pie. “Because I love you.”

There’s silence between them, but the crashing of the waves is heavy on the shore and Raelle pulls her eyes away from Scylla’s just to see the water smooth the sand over.

When she looks back to Scylla, her eyes are gentle and bluer than the sky and the ocean combined. Tinged with honesty, hope, and affection.

Raelle feels herself take the first step when her hand reaches for Scylla’s on its own—threads their fingers together despite the grains of sand stuck their skin.

“I love you too.”

Scylla smile blossoms into a wide grin and Raelle feels her heart ache for a completely different reason.

“Thank you.” Raelle says, letting herself breathe for the first time in weeks.

They stay in the sand until the heat fades, the sun sets, and Abigail comes to drag them back indoors for dinner.

#raylla #jenn writes #pgbhghtt this is supposed to be the end but idk there might be a rly short pt 5 as an epilogue #who knows!!! not me!!!#anyway enjoy thank you for reading 💕#brainwashed au

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keepswingin · 3 years

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"After all I've done, you still choose him?" With some Wyaddison and Zeddison??

“It wasn’t an easy decision,” she rebukes, her voice firm. “It wasn’t ‘choosing somebody over someone else’.”

“Wasn’t it?” he accuses, taking a step toward her. The forest around them is deathly silent at such a late hour, any small animals that had lingered past evening scattering at Zed’s first shout as he had crossed the threshold between a perfect town and an imperfect addition. “Four years, Addison. I gave you four years of happiness and--”

“And heartache, Zed. Four years of me asking myself if hanging on to something that had died two years in was worth it.”

He scoffs, shaking his head. “No, no. No we were fine, we were always fine, until those m--”

“Don’t you dare,” she whispers sharply, interrupting him before the very word can even think of leaving the tip of his tongue. Zed stops and swallows, trying to calm himself by taking a deep breath, in and out. He finds that it doesn’t help, or stop the red that he’s already seeing.

“We were fine, better than fine, until the werewolves came along, Addison. You can’t tell me we weren't.”

Addison turns her eyes to the ground for a moment, busying herself with scooting around some of the dirt with the front of her boot. It scuffs against the corner of a rock, and suddenly she’s back in the middle of the forest, far from Zed, far from her parents, far from everything she calls home, and instead she’s hidden in between two slanted rocks outside the den, tears in her eyes from someone else as he kisses her, gentle and sweet and with emotions that are as clear as the heart he wears on his sleeve. He was warm and honest and careful, all the things Zed was, two years ago, until he wasn't.

“Zed,” she says, looking back up at him. His hair is longer now, his eyes older, and his shirt is no longer ripped, sown together by her shaking hands after an attack had gone too far. She tries to compare this version of Zed with the one she had known four years ago, and can only remember the bright smiles and teasing lips - soft hands, with hugs that felt like home.

He no longer felt like home to her.

“I know people change and sometimes they can’t help it, how they change, or what happens to make them that way, but...but we weren’t good, Zed. After. Before. During, however you want to phrase it.” She sighs heavily, feeling horrible, feeling like she can hear his heart breaking in two. But this couldn’t go on any longer. She couldn’t go on like this any longer. It had to be done. “I was just too scared to ever pull the plug. I was...afraid that if I ruined this, called it quits before it could work out, that I would lose something truly amazing. But...the longer I held on, the more I realized I never had something amazing. I just had nothing to compare it to.”

As she finishes baring her heart, Zed looks smaller where he stands, like the fight was drained out of him. His lips are pulled sideways, into what can only resemble a twisted frown. His hands lay limp at his sides, and his eyes are the worst part, filled to the brim with so much sadness that it washes over Addison like a tidal wave, stranding her out at sea without a way back.

She wrings her hands together nervously. “Zed--”

She sees him before she hears him, his eyes glowing amber from the dark mess of bushes and brush behind Zed. He emerges a second later, their shoulders brushing as he passes by him to reach Addison, pulling her into a hug.

“Everything okay?” he mumbles in question as he presses a soft kiss to her collarbone. She nods against him, squeezing at his shoulder as he pulls back to look at her.

“We were just...finishing up.” She glances at Zed over his shoulder, who looks angry again, like the moments before were erased at the sight of--

“Wyatt.” Zed says, but his voice is lower now, and something stirs in Addison’s gut at the sound of it, a memory that she’d rather leave buried, fear tightening in her gut the more the deep sound echoes through her head.

Wyatt turns toward him, hands still anchored on Addison’s hips.

“Zombie,” he says in a calculated tone, but it’s the smirk afterwards that tops it off, too much of a push that Zed doesn’t need to receive. Zed’s hands curl into fists at his sides, knuckles white as a growl fights its way out of him. Wyatt’s smirk widens, “Oh come on now, Zed. What do you think you’re going to do?”

Blood, painting the stones.

Blood, painting the side of his head.

Scratches across the expanse of his shoulder, his Z-Band malfunctioning, his fingers bloody and bruised. Addison remembers gasping, remembers the feeling of her heart constricting and stopping still before starting all over again. She remembers clinging to him as she struggled to wrench her phone from her pocket, her hands slick with his blood and slipping as she desperately tried to dial her dad’s number. Her entire body was shaking, and to this day she still doesn't know if it was shock or fear that had pushed her to nearly blacking out, unable to recall her dad’s last four digits.

A hand had cupped her shoulder then, claws gently attempting to pry the phone from her fingers as others - dark silhouettes - hovered over Zed in the fading moonlight, a wheezing cough rattling his lungs and causing blood to bubble at his lips.

“It’s okay,” a soft voice promised her, his grip still steady on her shoulder, tighter still over her shaking hands, still holding onto a blood-spattered cellphone. “It’s okay. Let go. We can help. I promise you we can help him, you just need to let go.”

“I-I need to--I need to--” The words die in her throat and he shushes her softly, pulling her closer, adding more force to the claws still trying for the phone.

“I know,” the voice says, before it’s interrupted by another one.

“He’s dying,” a sharp feminine voice says bluntly from Zed’s other side, and Addison cries at the words, flinches at the claws that look like they plunge into his heart.

“No!” she screams, but it seems to only reach the man holding her, her vision fuzzy at the corners, the other voices fading around her. “No,” she whimpers from his arms, as her grip on the phone finally loosens.

“It's going to be okay,” the voice swears from above her, the telltale sounds of a phone ringing echoing through her ears, “I got you, Ads. I got you.”

It’s the last thing she remembers before waking up in a hospital room, for no reason at all. It took her four days just to be able to see Zed in Containment, and from there, the Z-Patrol had no answers.

They never did when it came to an attack on a zombie, life-threatening or not.

"Wyatt,” she whispers, moving her hands to grip his forearm, “don’t, please--”

“You took her from me,” Zed growls, his voice deeper, his Z-Band flashing an alarming shade of red. “You tried to kill me, and then you took her anyway.”

The smirk melts from Wyatt’s lips. His moonstone glows from where it rests on his chest, preparing. Addison feels something cold and dark close in on her, reaching around her neck and squeezing until she can’t breathe.

“No, no,” she says, breathless as she turns back to Zed, one of his hands already tugging at his band. “Zed no!”

“So who did it?” Zed asks her father after he’s finally released back home, an old, dirty bandage wrapped tightly around his head. Addison’s getting ready to replace it, already appalled at his treatment, her mother promising to have a look into it that weekend at consul.

Her dad shifts uncomfortably from where he stands at the end of Zed’s bed, stuffing his hands into his pockets.

“Well, son,” he starts uncertainly, and Addison rolls her eyes at the pitiful use of the endearment. He hasn’t liked Zed from the moment she introduced him to them, and the fact that they were still together after so many years was one of their many constant fights. “There was almost no evidence where you were found, but the damage that had been done to you...suggested that it was a werewolf.”

“No.” Addison immediately turns to her dad to say, sounding appalled. “They wouldn’t.”

Her dad sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. “It doesn’t matter if you think they would or wouldn’t,” he says, “the fact of the matter is that there were scratches found across Zed’s shoulders, gashes really, and then a gaping hole in his chest, which was obviously opened by wolves. No human, hateful or not, could possess that kind of strength.”

“We saved you,” Wyatt says, as calmly as he can, pushing Addison behind him as Zed’s fingers continue to grab and pull at his Z-Band. “Whoever did that to you stuffed needles inside of you and called it a day.”

“You don’t remember,” Addison tries to remind him, her heart beating fast, panicked. “You couldn’t even remember to tell me what had happened, Zed, please. The werewolves saved you, Wyatt and Willa saved you.”

Zed’s Z-Band snaps in half as he rips it from his arm, black veins bulging from his neck and slithering down his skin. “That’s just what they want you to think,” he growls before lunging at Wyatt’s throat.

#asks #zombies 2 #wyaddison #zeddison #zombies 2 fanfiction #zombies 2 fanfic #keepswingin writes #mine #ha okay so ages for this one is like #everyone's old enough to know better #no kidding everyone is like twenty one or twenty two #anyways so this was a fun 1400 words XD

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hotcoffeecoldmornings · 4 years

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(This shit is long so bear with me.)

Can’t Eat, Can’t Sleep, Reach for the Stars

I haven’t felt this way in awhile. This ‘can't eat, can't sleep, reach for the stars, over the fence, world series kind of love.’

It’s hard to describe. The last time I was all-consumed like this by a TV show and a ship, that TV show was The 100, that ship was Clexa, and my world was, quite honestly, turned upside down by it.

I used the first two seasons of The 100 as background noise as I wrote my Master’s Thesis in 2015. To be honest, I didn’t really know exactly what was happening until Bodyguard of Lies (an episode anyone reading this post probably remembers well) came on. And a passionate kiss between two world leaders left me speechless and shocked. I was blindsided by it, unaware that that kiss would be the beginning of not only finding myself, but also accepting myself, and then finding a chosen family I never knew that I needed because of it.

There’s been alot of (okay, not a lot, but more) f/f ships on TV since then. Maggie and Alex. Nicole and Waverly. Elena and Syd. Kat and Adena. Anissa and Grace. Stef and Lena. Karolina and Nico. And the list goes on… While each of these ships is equally important, and each one represents another push towards more inclusive storytelling, there was never a ship that hit me as hard as Clarke and Lexa did.

Until now.

Harold, They’re Lesbians

Gay. Witches.

Motherland: Fort Salem said the words. And I fucking came running.

Okay, so it took me a few weeks… Thank you, twitter timeline, for finally getting my ass on board. It’s not that I didn’t want to start the show. It’s that my anxiety-ridden brain had other plans for me in mid-March. Like spending the majority of my time researching a global pandemic and then crawling into a depression hole because of it… Or something like that.

But nonetheless, I’m here now. And I’m fucking staying.

I knew I’d love this show. The concept of witches peppered with the idea that sexuality is irrelevant is honestly my one and only weakness. So I went into episode one with high hopes. And I sure as hell was not disappointed.

Episode 1 gave me even more than I could’ve asked for. We meet three uniquely powerful individuals, who all come from three uniquely interesting backgrounds. Abigail Bellweather, born into a lineage of the most powerful and elite witches Fort Salem has ever seen. Tally Craven, the last one standing in her family’s long-line of service, selflessly choosing to say the oath when she didn’t technically have to. And Raelle Collar, who has an unparalleled set of powers, combining her mother’s Christo-Pagan ways with those of the seeds learned at Fort Salem.

Rounding out that already brilliant cast is Scylla Ramshorm, the ‘sexy weird’ Necro who may or may not be evil (but we love her all the same). General Sarah Alder, the original witch who signed the Salem Accord, selling out every future witch to the United States Army, and whose ego quite often gets the best of her. And Anacostia Quartermaine, the Bellweather Unit’s Drill Sergeant who has a peculiar fondness (and leniency) for Raelle Collar.

The fact that this television show is entirely female centered (like, we’re talking 60 seconds of male screen time in the pilot), is what separates this show from most. Men exist in the world of Fort Salem as characters to exclusively propel the female leads forward, which is a stark contrast to the majority of shows right now. And not only is the entire main cast female, the main lead is gay. And honestly, the sexuality of every character on the show is questionably debatable as well. Except for Abigail, who quite clearly is into any and all men, and Tally, who grew up on a Matrifocal Compound and ended up in Fort Salem as a virgin. Which, of course, no shade to her, but it did strike me as odd when Abigail immediately assumed Tally’s virgin-ness when growing up in an all-female world was brought up.

So let’s start there, shall we?

The Heteronormative Narrative (or not…)

Something I did find puzzling about Motherland: Fort Salem (and the only thing, really) is how they portray sexuality, relationships, and love. In regards to sexuality, Eliot Laurence, the creator and executive producer, has been incredibly forward in interviews with the narrative that ‘your sexual preference doesn’t matter in this world.’ Which I appreciate to the fullest, trust me. But pardon my slight hesitation when I hear that line, because I think we’ve all been burned by it once before.

Motherland: Fort Salem has done a tremendous job of this. They’ve allowed characters to own their sexuality without question. It was never a thing when Raelle started dating Scylla. At Beltane, everyone went off with whomever the dance paired them with - even if that meant the same gender, and even if that meant three or four or five of them. Sexuality, in regards to same-sex partners, is never a character arc in this show, and it’s never there to create a plot point.

HowEVER, there were a few things I noticed that confused that fact.

Like I said about Abigail in the very first episode, when the Bellweather Unit is meeting for the first time, why was Abigail so quick to question Tally’s virginity after learning she comes from a Matrifocal Compound? If there are no heteronorms in the world of Motherland: Fort Salem, then why is it assumed that losing your virginity is related to relations with a man? Even though Tally is (well… was) a virgin, why would that question be brought up? If roles were reversed and it was Raelle living on the Matrifocal Compound, the conversation would’ve gone strikingly different, and it would’ve supported this heteronormative narrative that I thought we were trying to avoid. I’m just going to blame this one line on how badly Abigail wants the D, so sleeping with a woman wouldn’t even cross her mind.

But then what about the idea of this ‘five-year marriage contract’? It’s simply about producing a child, so I assume a woman could never have that sort of thing with another woman, and that those women could never add to their lineage (unless they entered into a five-year marriage contract simply to reproduce). Doesn’t this, alone, signify a heteronormative world without even meaning to do so? While they accept LGBTQ+ relationships, how do they actually fit into the society and culture that this show has created? Wouldn’t the gay witches be seen as almost inadequate in carrying on the gene if they don’t have a child? (AmI just thinking too much into this...?)

But then again, the whole concept of ‘love’ in Fort Salem is rather insignificant itself. As Gerit mentions, no one is supposed to spend their life with just one person. Witches are committed to one another in five-year partnerships to reproduce, and then that’s it. So in a way, I understand that nobody, no matter what their sexuality is, really gets to experience this fairytale ending that we’re used to seeing in a (*cough* heterosexual) ship on TV. And in a way, I also think that’s what makes this show all the more fascinating. Eliot Laurence gave everyone a level playing field by just removing the idea of a happily ever after altogether. In Laurence’s world, witches are meant to train and fight and die for their country. Love is their weakness. But what’s so compelling about that is even though love is their weakness, he made sure that love also manifests into their greatest strength.

From what I’ve seen in interviews for Laurence, every single thing has a purpose. So I’m quick to let this go, and see where he takes us. He’s been building this world inside his head for nine years, so I know that there’s so much more to this story than what can be told in a 10-episode season.

But Back to the Lesbians

Anyway, back to love. Specifically gay love. I wish I could put into simple words my obsession with Raelle and Scylla.

From the incredible chemistry that Taylor Hickson and Amalia Holm share on-screen together to the directors and writers who’ve portrayed their love story so magically, Raelle and Scylla are truly something special. They’ve taken the place of a ship this queer fandom lost when Lexa was killed. It’s a ship that you want to hate, because every part of this story tells me to hate Scylla. She’s Spree. She’s vindictive. She’s dangerous. Yet every part of my brain tells me to love her. And to love them together.

I don’t like easy stories. I want stories that make the ending worth it. I want hardships and pain and hurt and work when it comes to love. Which is why I like the story of Raelle and Scylla. There was a spark between them in their very first scene together- a spark you could feel through the TV. It was believable and real. They come from similar backgrounds of loss and solitude, and that’s what originally bound them together. And over the next seven episodes, we watched their relationship grow. We saw their vulnerabilities, their growth, their passion. But now we’re going to see the hardship. The pain, the anger, the betrayal.

I appreciate that they’re not skimping on telling any part of their story. The two are special together, and so far, this show has proved that.

She’s Special

I want to break down Raelle Collar before bringing up anything else, because, well, obviously she’s the main character, but she’s also got a lot going on. The fact that Raelle channels her power through something other than the typical ‘seed’ is something that will be of importance to why she’s so powerful. Petra Bellweather, herself, claims that Raelle’s mom, Willa, used unconventional methods that delivered incredible results. “She was the fixer every unit wanted to deploy with.”

While all witches in Basic Training are learning about utilizing their extra set of vocal cords to create magic songs, Raelle can do it in a way that’s reminiscent of where she grew up- Chippewa Cession. In the very first episode, she makes note that her family was there before it became a Cession. Aka, before the land was given to the Chippewa tribe in exchange for their magic.

Raelle comes from a line of witches that all have more unique abilities than what’s taught at Basic Training. She uses a combination of Native American spirituality/Christo-Paganism skills during her days at Fort Salem, which brings up questions (and judgment) from other witches. It seems as though that kind of magic was the way witches used to do things before Sarah Alder released her song into the world and created a vocalizing army with it. Raelle’s peers look disgusted when they see her still using the same ways witches once did. It’s particularly noticeable when she heals people, and recites Matthew 7:7, “Ask, and it shall be given to you; seek and ye shall find; knock, and it shall be opened unto you.” The entire theme of the Book of Matthew, in regards to Christianity, is about prayer. Asking and receiving. That God will provide you with what’s needed, and nothing more. But when it comes to Paganism, it’s about the law of attraction and return in our universe. It outlines that there is no life without balance - that all prayers can be answered, but they’ll be answered with things that are taken from elsewhere. All prayers almost have a consequence. Just like all magic has a consequence.

Raelle’s power, at least what she knows of it up until now, is based on a consensual balance, bringing the theme of Paganism’s Matthew 7:7 into the type of witchcraft she practices. She can heal someone, but what she heals them from will be transferred onto her. Balance. Consequence.

Bringing General Sarah Alder back into this, this is the same type of magic that she traded for back in the 1700’s when she granted the Chippewa Tribe the entire length of the Mississippi River. In exchange, she gained the magic that could keep her eternally young. But just like the magic that Raelle does, this age defying practice has consequences too, and requires balance. Every 50-60 additional years that General Alder adds on to her endless life, a young witch must be sacrificed to take on those years, and must stand by General Alder the rest of her short-lived life.

But where does the balance go?

Adil is such a great addition to the cast because he sheds a light on something so crucially ignored on campus. All magic has balance. This is teased throughout the season, like when General Alder hits turbulence on her way to The Hague and jokes (but not really jokes), “I assume I have one of you to blame for that.” Or how Raelle soaks up her ‘patients’ illness. But it’s not truly smacked in our faces until Adil says it.

As Abigail is flaunting her ability to *one day* “grind iron into ore and mountains into dust,” Adil drops a truth bomb on her. “All that weather you fight with has a cost. Floods. Failing crops. Famine. Every war, people starve.” She’s quick to reply that the good they do far outweighs the bad. But to who? Certainly not to Adil and his people. Meeting him is going to give our recruits a serious insight into just how consequential their ‘work’ can be. He’s going to play a crucial role in realizing how manipulative and egotistical General Alder has been.

Not only is weather an issue, but plagues. “Like the one attacking my sister.” Adil and Khalida come into the storyline because Khalida is sick with a deathly black webbing wrapped around her body. When they first make it to the Military Outpost (somewhere in the dessert between Russia and China?), the Soldier who meets them at the gate yells, “they’re here.” So were they expecting them?

Raelle eventually is the one who heals Khalida, (by using her Christo-pagan means) but instead of taking up the illness like it usually does, instead, it infects the giant mushroom that Raelle touched earlier.

The balance of Mother Mushroom.

I go back and forth between theories for the giant mushroom growing under Fort Salem. But today, I’m convinced the mushroom is attached to General Alder’s vitality. And consequently, the entire vitality of Fort Salem as well. In one episode, Berryessa reminds us that all life on campus is directly connected to Alder. And if what Scylla says in My Witches, that “life becomes death, which becomes life again,” is relative to the life on campus and how General Alder parallels that, then this theme of balance throughout the series is more prominent than we realize.

The giant mushroom living under campus is clearly important. It has hands and replicates faces and takes on diseases and Izadora is not a fan of anyone touching it. So yes, you could say this fungi is a main character now.

But. Why?

“In the kingdom of plants, mushrooms occupy the underworld. Nothing ever really dies.” Mushrooms have an entire underground network of language to one another. And they are responsible for the breakdown and decomposition of death so that organic matter can become something else. Necros have an obvious connection to this ecological process too, so they must have a connection to the continuous process that General Alder goes through to support and sustain life on her campus.

I think that the “Mother Mycelium” signifies each and every consequence that Fort Salem has accumulated. It holds the hurt and death and pain and regret of everything General Alder has created. And now that the Mushroom is infected with whatever plague Khalida had, I think it’s going to wreak havoc on Fort Salem. Magic is based on balance, and I think massive consequences are coming to make up for years of disparity.

One last thing on my mushroom-thoughts, is when Helen Graves said “the dead make excellent eyes and ears.” An underground network of mushrooms all connected to recently dead organisms would certainly be a great way to gain insight too. Scylla mentions that she needs something recently dead to grow her deathcap, so does this Mushroom need to be constantly “fed” with death to continue the creation of life?

Does Alder know about that? Are the mass-murders that the Spree are doing related to this? Killing hundreds of people at a time would definitely be a good way to keep the mushroom o’ death fed. Is Alder behind the Spree!?

Sexy Weird

Speaking of Spree... Can we talk Scylla now? First of all, what the hell is this girl’s timeline? When we first meet her, she’s a cadet (second year) in War College already, meaning she would’ve had to enlist on Conscription Day the year before Raelle. Yes? In Mother Mycelium, we see that she *might* (still don’t believe it) have been the person behind that first Spree attack on Conscription Day of this year (so when Raelle, Tally, and Abigail enlisted), so was she at Basic Training for an entire year before deciding to become Spree? Did she enlist knowing that she would eventually be Spree? Does this ever get addressed in the show?

Since we’re here, I might as well say there’s no way Scylla did that. I’ll never believe it. And I’m using my one semester of Greek Mythology in college to tell you why (who knew that class would eventually come in handy)

In My Witches, when Tally, Abigail, and Glory first meet Scylla, Tally makes it clear that ‘Scylla’ is a Greek name. Okay. Greek. Cool. Mythology. Let’s go. I already knew that Eliot Laurence doesn’t waste any minute of screen time when it comes to plot development and storytelling, so my meta brain did a little digging.

In Greek Mythology, Scylla was a sea-monster who haunted the rocks of a very narrow strait, opposite of the whirlpool of Charybdis. The monster’s purpose was to lead ships and boats towards the whirlpool, which was lethal to all who attempted to pass. Scylla was used to lure boats towards Charybdis, but was never meant for actually destroying them. Scylla was a fear tactic, not a murderous monster. In poetry, it’s often said that Scylla isn’t a monster at all, just born into a monstrous family. In conclusion (from my 4 months of Freshman-level Greek Mythology and a little refreshment on Google) I think Scylla is simply being used to lure people to the Spree, but not actually doing the mass-murdering that is being shown in the episode.

What I do know is that Scylla Ramshorn is absolutely Amalia Holm. Mainly because I refuse to accept that Raelle is falling for the red head (sorry, red head). But also because at the end of the Pilot, when Scylla (in red head disguise) looked into the mirror, the balloon was her reflection, and it followed everything that she did. But in other scenes, when Scylla’s face is the normal Scylla face, she can see her own reflection. So the redhead girl is unimportant. Plus, IMDB says she never appears again this season...

We Are The Spree

As much as I hate to believe that Raelle’s mom (or Aunt!) is alive and leading the Spree, the connections between the two entities do add up. Both (Spree and Collar’s) are against the authority and power that the Witch Army has over populations of witches. They’re both against General Sarah Alder. I believe they both use spoken word magic rather than just vocalized magic. When the Spree carry out their attacks, they’re whispering words under their breath, not singing any song. Which is reminiscent of how the Collar’s do magic. Additionally, it would make sense as to why the Spree would want Scylla to bring them Raelle. And I still can’t get over the conversation between Raelle and Tally when Raelle explains her family’s combat charm. “A bowerbird’s foot. They love anything blue.”

Blue? Why. WHY.

Maybe Willa Collar was captured by the Spree? Or the Aunt was? Or the Spree needs Raelle to heal someone?

One last weird very unthought out theory goes with the other Biblical verse Raelle recites - Isaiah 43:2. “When you pass through the waters, I will be with you; and when you pass through the rivers, they will not sweep over you. When you walk through the fire, you will not be burned; the flames will not set you ablaze.” The fact that all Spree attacks have happened with something to do water- in the snow, at the pool, on a cruiseship. And the fact that the last line of that verse is literally, “you will not be burned; the flames will not set you ablaze.” This type of witchcraft has to relate to how the Spree does magic. Right??

Now I’m re-talking myself into the fact that the Collar’s might be somehow leading Spree...

But who’s ‘we’?

If the Collar’s are in charge of Spree then this next theory would actually check out.

Anacostia has been a little more over-bearing with Raelle than any of the other girls. On multiple occasions, she’s said how Raelle is gifted. In fact, they all have. Even Abigail in Hail Beltane mentions that “Raelle didn’t go outside of canon, she’s naturally gifted.” They all know she’s gifted. It would make sense if the Collar’s were the ones running Spree, and that Anacostia, aka. General Alder’s head bitch, was sent to protect Raelle from ever joining them. Alder wants to capitalize on the powers that Raelle has, and keep them in the Witch Army.

But I also think Anacostia could be playing General Alder. There have been too many times where she stares at Alder just a little bit too intently, and I can’t stop thinking that she might be in some sort of rebellious group too. Maybe a certain cell of Spree?

Because you can’t deny that Anacostia has also taken in interest in Scylla, particular to keep her away from Raelle. When Anacostia first caught them flying high on Salva, she told Scylla to stay away from Raelle, and it seemed as though she (tried) to use some sort of coercion magic while doing so. When Anacostia then saw them together at the Bellweather wedding, she almost sounded shocked, “I expressly told you to stay away from her.” Did Anacostia attempt coercion magic on Scylla and it didn’t work? And if she did, why didn’t it work?

That entire exchange felt odd yet familiar. Like the two have history. “Your name wouldn’t have been on the list. You’re not supposed to be here.” Particularly the “you’re not supposed to be here.” Did Anacostia know about the attack on the Bellweather’s? And did she think it would be threatened with Scylla there? Or did she know that Scylla was supposed to bring Raelle to the Spree at 6pm. And was sent to make sure Scylla never completed that task.

I found it interesting that Anacostia was never seen fighting off the balloons like every other Witch was when they appeared. And her being at the actual wedding felt odd too. Especially if she’s General Alder’s right-hand (wo)man, because last time I checked, Alder and Petra Bellweather weren’t on the greatest terms. In fact, none of the General’s are on great terms with Alder.

Since we’re now on Bellweather season...

Camarilla. No, not Carmilla.

There’s certainly a second threat in this show. And they were the ones behind the attack at the Bellweather’s. Not only has this already been proven by Jessica Sutton on Twitter (lols) but the clues were literally all there. They didn’t use any magic to fight. They had to use a mechanized sound machine to stop Abigail and Petra from using their powers. Then they covered themselves with gasoline and lit themselves on fire before the mother-daughter duo blew them away. It wasn’t Spree. But it was meant to look like Spree. And I think the balloons were simply a distraction, so all efforts and power would be outside fighting off the balloons while the civilian waiter’s could attack.

But who is doing this?

It’s been brought up that there are alot of humans who don’t agree with the Witch Army that Alder leads. Even the President of the United States is hesitant about them. “You, too, are bound by rule of law to the will of the American people, who have elected me to represent their interests and protect them. Don’t you forget it. Or you may find yourself reminded.” Then Tally gets confronted later in that episode by a civilian who says, “It’s witches who are committing these attacks. It’s your kind of people .” And then even later in the series, there’s talk of a “growing debate in congress to revoke the Accord and disband the army.” So you could say there are definite opinions about this Army by civilians.

In A Biddy’s Life, there’s a shot when Raelle and Scylla are in the room with weapons once used to kill witches. There’s an undeniably important shot of the Camarilla Scythe. Camarilla, itself, is defined as a small group of people acting as private advisers to a ruler or politician with a shared and nefarious purpose to carry out secret plots.

Since civilians are the ones that are most opposed to the Witch Army, it makes sense that maybe the President, herself, is the one behind these attacks. She’s trying to take down the most Elite of the Witches (the Bellweather’s), hence inhibiting the Army from being as successful as it’s been in the past. And what better way than to kill the most elite witches of child-bearing age.

While this theory checks out, I can’t help but to also think that Petra Bellweather could be behind the attacks. I know, it’s a stretch, (specifically because it’s her own family that’s being targeted) but I do love that ‘good powers, bad people’ trope. And what better way to make sure nobody questions your efforts if you’re the last one they’d suspect? Petra Bellweather has been itching to boot Alder from head witch honcho for awhile. Since killing Bellweather’s is the ultimate attack against witches, this would be a great strategy to showcase that Alder is inept in dealing with these enemies, creating a fall in power. And eventually, a rise in another. A Bellweather.

Okay, I know what you’re all probably thinking. “So you’re saying that she wanted her own daughter killed!?” Not necessarily. When you watch Bellweather Season, and specifically the wedding scenes, they put an insane emphasis on timing. And I don’t believe that that’s just because of Scylla trying to get Raelle out of there by 6pm. When you watch the sequence back, the Bellweather Unit was supposed to be having their interview with the Dean of War College, starting at 5:30ish. If the interview took a good bit, say 30-45 minutes, this would strategically put Abigail not in the line of fire (aka Charvel’s room) at 6pm when they struck.

But on the complete other hand, Abigail was supposed to be up with Charvel at that time helping her get ready. Meaning if it wasn’t Petra Bellweather, someone perfectly timed both Bellweather’s of childbearing age to conveniently be in the same place at the same time.

Then the fact that Scylla was meant to leave with Raelle at 6pm (the exact moment the waiter’s and balloons struck), can’t go unnoticed. Did they want her to leave with Raelle at 6pm because the Spree knew about the attack? Did someone warn them? Does this explain why Anacostia was shocked to see Scyalla. “You’re not supposed to be here.” Why wasn’t she supposed to be there????

I’m just going to tap out of this theory now.

But One More Thing

This might be a totally aggressive theory, and I have to credit the initial spark of this idea to my girlfriend, because during my 67th rewatch of this show, she brought up something I’d never thought of before. She asked me what Scylla’s purpose of attending the wedding was, and if the person she was supposed to bring to Penelope Road at 6pm really was Raelle?

This got thinkING. What if it was someone else???

When you look back at all the times Scylla spends talking to her balloon mirror, they never actually say Raelle’s name. Sure, we’re meant to believe that Raelle is the obvious target. But what if that’s a cover?? What if she’s using Raelle to infiltrate something else and get to someone else??

It would make sense to use Raelle to target Abigail instead- an elite Bellweather. Like I said, this is a very unlikely theory but it would definitely be a shock to literally everyone (except my girlfriend apparently)...

Has the entirety of the show been leading us down a path to distract us from something else going on!? With every other ounce of brilliance here, I wouldn’t even doubt it.

In Conclusion

I went into this show expecting to be seen and represented as a queer woman, but what I actually got was so much more. What I got from this show is the realization that me being queer doesn’t have to have anything to do with me being a woman at all. My strength, and will, and mistakes, and growth, and grace, and support, and passion, are what make me a woman. Each of our stories are deserving enough to be told just because we are women.

I’ve struggled with that fact my entire life - my womanhood.

Femininity, feminism, and female empowerment are all things I’ve only recently connected with. I was raised in the culture of traditional gender roles. My dad went to work and my mom stayed home. It’s not that I was necessarily taught that men and women must occupy those roles; it’s just that’s all I knew. To even further confuse my adolescent existentialism, not only was my mother a stay-at-home mom, she was also in the Marine Corps. And she never really understood the fact that not all women are as strong as she is.

My mom’s a badass, don’t get me wrong. She’s one of my hero’s. She came from a family who didn’t have much, and after realizing that she couldn’t afford to go to college, she enlisted instead. Six years later, she went to Penn State on a full-ride. She’s worked for every ounce of success that she’s seen, and she’s worked her ass off for it. But because of that, she struggles with the idea of feminism.

I can’t blame her too much. I understand the mindset she’s coming from. Growing up with that being instilled in my mind was hard though. Because it was expected that I, too, grow up to be a strong independent woman.

I graduated in the predominantly male industry of agriculture (I want to be a farmer, okay!?). All through college, grad school, and post-grad school, I worked on farm after farm after farm. And it was there that I was introduced to the idea of toxic masculinity. I tolerated comments that I won’t even say out loud. I’ve “accidentally” been touched in more ways than I care to count. And what I hate the most about it all, is that I fucking tolerated it. I’d laugh it off, and then I’d walk away, mortified at what I’d actually just put up with. And while by no means do I blame my upbringing and home life on this, I do blame the upbringing and home life on the female characters I saw on television. If Brooke Davis was constantly and overly sexualized in high school then I guess I was supposed to, too. Right??

Sure, I still hear comments that I wish I didn’t. But I’m also surrounded by people and characters who taught me to never put up with the shit I once did. Female characters are portraying a storyline that people take more seriously now. They’re persevering. And that jumps off the screen in Motherland: Fort Salem.

It’s taken me a while to realize how Raelle and Scylla have affected me as much as Clakre and Lexa did (two characters who literally awakened my sexuality). But I think I get it now.

I love both Raelle and Scylla. Each one. Individually. As witches. As warriors. As females. As humans. As strong female characters. So, in a way, watching this show has awakened something else in me that I’ve also been suppressing all along. My femininity. My strength. My perseverance.

Sure, Raelle and Scylla are my favorite ship right now, but it wasn’t them being together that made me fall in love with this show. Oddly enough, it was them being apart. It’s the fact that each one stands on her own as a unique and beautifully complicated story. And it’s the fact that I, too, am deserving of a beautifully complicated story.

Last Section, I Swear

Motherland: Fort Salem is a magical mix of intense story building, relatable character development, and fascinating cinematography, all while being told through a gender and sexuality normative opposite of what we’re used to seeing. It’s a show that encompasses female strength unlike anything I’ve experienced before, where men are the background noise who aid in pushing the plot forward. It’s a show that deserves another season. And another and another and another and another.

It’s a show I needed ten+ years ago, at 18 years old, freshly out of high school and wondering why the fuck I never had crushes on guys like everyone else my age did. It’s the show I needed so I didn’t always wonder why I was so obsessed with Peyton Sawyer and Summer Roberts and why I was the only one I knew who thought Torrance and Missy should’ve ended up together. It’s the show I needed to learn that my femininity doesn’t make me any less tough than my male counterparts. It’s the show I needed so I never put up with anyone’s shit. It’s the show I needed to teach me that I am storm and I am fury.

It’s the show I needed then. But it’s also the show I’m so happy that I have now.

#motherlandfortsalem #motherland fort salem #raylla #clexa #motherland fort salem theory #scylla ramshorn #scylla #raelle #raelleandscylla #raelle collar #lgbtq #this is so long i'm so sorry #abigail bellweather #tally craven

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rosevanhelsing · 4 years

Text

Chapter 10

3 years later

Lily combined her university studies with a job in an esoteric shop. One day her boss told her:

- Lily, pretty, they hired me for a private birthday party, but I feel terrible. Would you mind going? You have a gift for the Tarot.

- Of course I'll go.

Lily went to Willa Brewster's birthday party, and was explaining their future to several children, in the end only Willa and her best friend Vic Mcqueen remained. Willa sat down and said:

- I want to know if I will have a career and become famous.

Lily dropped the cards, studied them for a moment, and said:

- Look, darling, this is the Card of the High Priestess, it symbolizes study, so you will study a lot and surely do a career and next to it you have The Justice, perhaps it is something related to this, and Sun means success.

- Cool, I've always been attracted to law. Come on Vic, cheer up.

Vic McQueen wrinkled his nose, and said:

- I do not believe in that…

"If you don't believe," Willa said, "what difference does it make to you?" Let's see what the cards tell you.

Vic snorted, dropped her Raleigh bike on the ground, sat across from Lily and said:

- I do not know what to ask…

- Let's see what comes out then.- Lily said kindly

Lily revealed The Magician, and said- You are a highly skilled and hardworking girl.

Vic shrugged.

Lily then revealed the Moon and said, "And you're very creative." Do you like to draw or write?

- Draw- Vic said a little surprised.

- It's amazing how she draws - said Willa

Vic began to get a little more interested, and she looked closely at what Lily was doing. Lily revealed the Devil's card.

- However you will have difficulties to achieve your goals, that is what the Devil's card means,

Then The Chariot came out

- This means that you will have to make decisions and direct your life.

Lily revealed the last two letters.

- Well, the Force means that you can face difficulties and break through. And this is one of the prettiest cards, the Star symbolizes the hope and your dreams. If you dream of being a successful cartoonist, you will be.

- Thank you

If Lily had had her previous Tarot card, the prediction would have been quite different and perhaps she would not have explained her. The visions would have shown her that or rather who the Devil and the Chariot, and that Vic was the hope to defeat them.

8 years later:

Lily had lived with Jeff together for a couple of years and life was going very well for them, Jeff had a good job as a mechanic in a workshop and Lily had finished a degree in Translation and worked from home. Jeff and Lily were engaged and she was five months pregnant.

On the other hand, Mary had moved with her mother to Europe and was living a new life there, although she missed her sister. One day, while walking through a second-hand market, Mary noticed something, which she could not define, that attracted her to a certain stand. It was a little stand where there were all kinds of things. The owner said:

- They belonged to my children, they are already married and they didn't want anything.

Mary looked, suddenly saw a silver glitter that was between a model of an old black car, which she did not know because it reminded her of one he had seen a long time ago, and an Optimus Prime, Mary pushed them away and picked up the shiny object. It was a pendant that represented a unicorn, it was the most beautiful she had ever seen, she held it in her hand and it was so fixed that she did not hear that the radios began to interfere. Mary asked the owner:

- How much does this cost?

- This?

The owner looked it and said:

- It's funny that my daughter got rid of this, she really liked this pendant, so I'll leave it to you for five pounds.

Mary paid and put it in her purse. Once home, she cleaned it and put it on a necklace. At dinner time, her mother Lucy saw the pendant and said:

- How nice, did you find it at the flea market?

-Yes.

When she went to sleep, Mary found herself in a white room, which sometimes looked like the walls had interference like TV's, and she looked away. There were several doors, each one had a name, she recognized them as her friends from school when she was little, she tried to open one of them, but it was closed, others were boarded up with boards and she gave up. Elsewhere, there was a white door with candy canes on the sides. Mary put her hand on the door, it was cold and there was a sign that said Christmasland. On the other side of the door Charlie Manx watched and said:

- Well, well, Mary, so you've got back to your old ways? Mary, Mary, come in and say how-do… he crooned

Mary had a feeling she shouldn't go in and turned away from the door, looked away, and saw a door with a lily drawn on it, which she assumed was her sister's door. Mary entered and saw Lily, she was at the table in the middle of a grove reading and taking notes, Mary smiled and went to hug her:

-Lily!

Her sister looked at her in surprise and said:

-Mary… But what are you doing here?

- I fell asleep and appeared in a room with doors, only two seemed accessible, yours and one that said Christmasland ...

- Listen, Mary, for heaven's sake, don't go into Christmasland, I thought you had forgotten ... it's a bad place with a very evil man ...

Mary woke up suddenly and a little later in the morning Lily woke up abruptly although without remembering exactly what she had dreamed, and she was restless, she leaned on the head of the bed while stroking her belly, she had the feeling that sleep could be a threat to your baby. She looked to her side, Jeff had already gone to work, got up, went to the kitchen, and saw that they had left the newspaper. On the cover of this there was a story, it was about the disappearance of a child of about seven years in the state of UTAH, the mother of the child had appeared dead.

Lily left the newspaper on the kitchen table and went to get dressed, that day she was due for an ultrasound and possibly she would already know the sex of the baby. She went to the gynecologist and knew that the future baby would be a girl, she considered the idea of telling Jeff but preferred to surprise him when he returned home. She went to eat and in the afternoon to work in the esoteric shop where she reading the Tarot cards.

For his part, Charlie Manx was going to find a man in the city, a nursing assistant named Peter Ipes, to see if he could be useful as a collaborator. On his way he passed the esoteric shop where Lily worked and the Wraith emitted a hum of static. Manx frowned, braked, and looked out the window. On the door of a shop there was a striking sign beautifully adorned with Celtic-style lettering and a cute unicorn, which read:

THE MAGICIAN LILY

Consult your matters to the Tarot cards. A $ 10 question. Full consultation $ 25

Manx drummed his fingers on the steering wheel, it was too much of a coincidence and he wanted to make sure if it was Lily Aberforth who was reading the cards and if she had found a new knife, in that case it was better to remind him that she should not cross his path and in passing he would try to find out if Mary had a new knife as he suspected. Charlie parked the car and went to the store. Once at the door he made a visor with his hand to observe, the store was dark but there was a light in the background, perhaps the owner or that Lily was in the back room. Manx rang the bell and waited a couple of minutes.

Lily was so focused on her work that she didn't hear the buzzer, but she noticed the sudden change in temperature and her list of relaxation songs suddenly stopped and Christmas carols started playing, all of which brought back dark and sinister memories that believed forgotten. Lily swallowed and put on a shawl for the cold, which hid her belly in the process. If the customer was who she suspected, she didn't even want him to smell her pregnancy. Charlie rang the bell again and yelled:

- It's open?!

"I'm coming!" Answered Lily, going to the door and opening it.

Charlie smiled when he saw her, Lily was scared to death but kept her composure.

-Ms. Aberfoth ... how long ... – he said leaning on the door frame and blocking the exit

- Mr. Manx ...

Lily noted that Charlie was even younger than the last time she had seen him in Christmasland. even wearing more modern clothing, a long navy blue double-breasted coat, matching blue pants, a red vest and tie, and shoes instead. of high boots. His black hair was thicker, shinier and without gray hair, his skin was smooth, and he would have looked prettier if it weren't for his teeth which stuck out and were still hideous and the long nails he wore cut in a peak.

I was passing by here, miss and I looked at the sign when my Wraith reacted and I thought that perhaps my favorite witch had found a new "knife".

- Well, I don't know why your car reacted, perhaps you should check it, because I no longer have that power because I had to destroy my "knife".

- Are you sure? - He said laughing

- You want me to prove it to you? Although according to you everything was rubbish

- Wow ... - Charlie said, showing upset - I'm sorry that he felt offended, although what he thought was rubbish is that I fell in love with someone who could harm me. By the way, maybe a little Tarot consultation will clarify me when I'm going to meet that mysterious girl ...

"Okay, but it will be a quick consultation," she said, putting on her shawl. "Sit down."

He sat down obediently, Lily shuffled the cards, cut them into piles and made him choose

"I have the impression that you want me to leave soon ... what are you hiding from me?" Charlie said in an amused tone but his eyes gave away suspicion.

- Nothing. - She said curtly- Choose and ask your question.

- How much will I find that mysterious girl you saw? And he pointed resignedly to the pile on his left, Lily picked up the cards, and put them on the table to go uncovering them. He was looking at her carefully, he didn't notice anything in her but something had to happen since his car didn't react just because. Lily looked at the cards, curiously they were very similar to the ones from the other time she reading him, but this time The Wheel of Fortune came out and said:

- It seems that the thing is beginning to move, perhaps in a short period of time you will find it ... but it is not possible to specify when. In addition, it is not known what result there will be, The wheel of Fortune can bring luck but luck can also be twisted.

- Well, that's something. Thank you.

Lily got up and waited for Charlie to do so, he reached into the inside pocket of his coat, took out his wallet, opened it and took out a $ 10 bill, handing it to Lily.

- Thank you for answering my question, Miss Aberforth. I'm sorry that our meeting was so short and cold ...

Lily was disgusted to take Manx's money but she did it so as not to arouse his suspicions and did not see the avid glint in the eyes of her interlocutor. Manx grabbed her, softly but firmly by the arms, pulled him close and said in her ear:

- Tell me what you're hiding from me ... You think you can deceive me but it's not like that ... I also know that your little sister has a "knife" again ... she was about to re-enter Christmasland but at the last moment she stopped ... so this is not It must be ... Let's see, let me guess ...

- Get your hands off me ..." Lily said, struggling to get away from him. Leave us alone. I already told you and I repeat that neither Mary nor I will meddle in your affairs ...

Charlie pulled her closer and then he felt the bulge of Lily's belly against him, his dark eyes twinkling and he said laughing:

- Well, well, what do we have here? You have a bun in the oven. So that's what you were hiding from me.

Charlie put his hand on Lily's belly, she almost gagged with fear and disgust.

- Come on, little one ... say hello to your Uncle Charlie ...

He smiled when he noticed a kick from the future baby. Lily scrambled again to get rid of Manx's hold, but Manx had her tight. Apparently Charlie had much more strength than he appeared since he could control her just by grabbing her arm ...

- Who is the lucky dad? Mr. Stevens?

"Yes," she said in a whisper.

Charlie released her gently, and made Lily sit in a chair as he said

- There was no reason for you to have to hide me about your future baby, indeed I congratulate you for it. I suppose you were afraid that I might take it away one day ... I won't, unless one day he or she appears in my Cemetery of May could be ...

Lily was horrified but preferred not to ask him what he was talking about. Charlie grabbed her hand, kissed it politely, and said:

- Arrivederci, my dear.

Manx left the store, got behind the wheel of his car, drove off and then he realized… Lily's baby would be a future creative soul! Manx smiled to himself and said:

- Well, time will tell ...

#nos4a2

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the-hilda-librarians-wife · 4 years

Text

The Mistakes We Made - Chapter Fourteen

Summary: When her high school girlfriend comes back to town after two years with a baby and a terrible story she won’t tell, the Librarian has to deal with the feelings she had worked so hard to keep at bay.

Notes: The flashbacks in this chapter happen pretty much immediately after the ones in chapter 11, so you might want to read it again. Or not, it’s not really crucial to the understanding of this chapter. Anyway... this is it guys... The Talk. I hope it lives up to what you were expecting.

Read it on ao3: (chpt1) (chpt2) (chpt3) (chpt4) (chpt5) (chpt6) (chpt7) (chpt8) (chpt9) (chpt10) (chpt11) (chpt12) (chpt13) (chpt14)

The wind made Maven’s hair sway as she picked a key from her skirt’s pocket. It was a chilly Saturday night, and Mr. Kavindi had asked if she could work for three more hours today, in order for him to go home early and be with his wife on their anniversary. She had accepted, of course, not only because she was very fond of him, but also because she could use the money.

As soon as she had finished locking up the library’s doors, she turned around and saw a woman running up the long white stairs, and she sighed.

“Sorry, we’re closed for today.” The woman coming towards her had flowing red hair and a strong jaw. As she climbed the last step, Maven noticed she was taller than average. She wasn’t from Trolberg, which made her wonder what had happened for her to end up there. At the same time, Maven had the impression of having seen her before.

“Do you work here?” The quick climb ought to have made her breathless, but it seemed like her determination was bigger than her exhaustion.

Maven lifted an eyebrow and crossed her arms, wondering what other explanation the woman had for her having the keys to the library. “I do.”

“And you know Johanna, right?”

The question hit her like a blow to the chest, making her blink in surprise and step back. Ever since she’d seen her being driven away from the town, cheered on by all her friends, Maven had tried her damnest not to think about Johanna. And now this.

“Why do you want to know?”

Taking this as a yes, the woman took a step closer. She’d only seen the librarian once before, and only briefly, but it was enough to remember that this is who she wanted to talk to. “She’s my friend. We began talking at college, but now she’s suddenly stopped talking to me.”

The librarian stared at her for a beat before snorting. “Well, it does seem like she’s making a habit out of it.”

Not wanting to talk about Johanna to anyone, much less a complete stranger, Maven began walking down the stairs, hoping that the redhead would have the sense to understand that she wasn’t in the mood for chatting. No such luck.

“Please, I really want your opinion on this!”

“I truly don’t know what makes you think I even can help.”

Even though this woman was taller, she had difficulty keeping up with Maven’s large strides. “Johanna introduced me to one of her friends. Maybe you know her, she’s called Lucy.”

Maven scrunched her nose. Lucy had always been somewhat close to Johanna, so of course she knew her. She just wasn’t particularly fond of her.

“Well, she mentioned you when Johanna was distracted with something else. Said you were a former friend that worked in the library or something along those lines.”

When they were at the base of the stairs, Maven stopped and turned to the woman. “If Lucy was your source of information about me, you must be here because you hate me. I am, unfortunately, a very busy woman, so please schedule an appointment with my secretary so I can make some time to hear your complaints about my disgusting personality. Have a good night.”

“Oh, come on!” The woman moaned in the face of her sarcasm. “Just hear me out for one second! Lucy is how I knew where to look for you, but I know about your friendship with Johanna because she told me so.”

“My statement about scheduling some time to yell at me remains.”

“You are a smart one, aren’t you?!” She snapped. “Just answer me one question, then I know if you’ll be able to help me.”

Intrigued, the librarian nodded. It wouldn’t hurt to arrive home five minutes later, and she supposed she could give this woman the benefit of the doubt.

After taking a deep breath, the woman asked. “What do you think of Torrin?”

The sound Maven made could only be described as one of pure disgust. “He’s awful. He’s fake and entitled and cares about no one. Why?”

A smile slowly bloomed in the woman’s face, and she suddenly threw her hands up. “Oh, man!” She exclaimed. “I could kiss you right now!”

Not used to having someone agree with her about Torrin, Maven’s mind took a few moments to register the situation. “Don’t take me wrong, you’re a very pretty woman.” She said when she came back to herself. “But I’d rather you didn’t.”

The woman rolled her eyes. “You’re like, the first person who agrees with me. Ever since I’ve met the guy, I didn’t get a good feeling about this. Last time I was in their house, he kept staring at me like he wanted to murder me, it was so creepy. But the Lucy girl said I was imagining things, and I was just at Johanna’s parents’ house and they told me to stay out of this!”

“You tracked down her parents too? With all due respect, that’s very scary.”

“You were the only remaining option. Of people who knew her before, you know? If you said there was nothing wrong with him as well, I’d just give up and admit that I’m paranoid, but seems like I’m not!”

This woman’s enthusiasm and determination were somewhat entertaining to Maven, even though the topic was upsetting. She thought she’d have a good time if she ever sat down to talk to her about something else.

“I can guarantee that you’re right about him, Miss…?” She let the question hang in the air, hoping she’d grant the information.

“Willa. Willa Sandalwood.”

Willa extended her hand and Maven shook it. Her hand was large and calloused, making Maven assume she had a hobby that went beyond graphic design. Maybe something athletic or crafty.

“Willa, Johanna has made her choice. You can rest assured that she knew about all the problems with her current husband. She has simply decided to ignore it, even if I’ll have to agree with you and say she shouldn’t have. She’s chosen her path, and there’s nothing we can do.”

Willa looked down at her feet, her brow furrowed in thought. When she looked up again, she gave the librarian a smile. “Would you mind if we talked about this some more? I’ll even pay you tea if you want to.”

If the chance for getting information, even if just a little, about Johanna’s current situation hadn’t already made her make up her mind, the promise of tea would have. “Alright. I know a nice place”

“Cool!” Walking to the sidewalk, she gently tapped the seat of a red and black motorcycle that had been parked right in front of the library. “Can I give you a ride?”

Maven lifted her eyebrows. “I’m not climbing into a stranger’s motorcycle.”

“Oh.” She looked at the motorcycle with her brows creased, as if she hadn’t thought of that. “That’s understandable. Is it safe to leave it here for me to come back for it later?”

“Sure.”

They walked together as Maven led them to the Poet’s Retreat. Just as they turned a corner, she spoke up again, getting genuinely caught up in the conversation.

“So, you don’t trust Torrin, and Johanna suddenly stopped talking to you, is that right?”

“Yep. And I think she did that because he doesn’t like me.”

There were some people in the streets, mostly going out to meet their friends and family. They shot the two of them weird looks as they passed by, probably thinking Willa must be either insane or evil to be talking so comfortably to Maven.

“I just don’t see where I come in this. Why did you look for me?”

She shuddered. “When Johanna talked about you, she told me you were worried for her, but that you shouldn’t be. So I thought you might agree with me.”

“She told you about me?” Maven asked with a tremulous voice, a spark of hope being lit in her heart against her better judgement.

Willa gazed down and rubbed the back of her neck. She didn’t miss the hope in Maven’s voice, so she tried to let her down gently. “She did when I asked her about you, that day you wanted to talk to her after class.”

Suddenly, the librarian remembered where she’d seen the woman before. “You’re the person who was talking to her when she left the classroom, aren’t you?”

“Yeah, that’s me!”

Maven’s pace slowed down as she thought about that. When asked about her, Johanna had said she was well meaning; could this mean she still had a chance at a friendship with Johanna? Should she even want a friendship with Johanna at this point?

“You seem to be the only person left who can talk some sense into Johanna. It’s not asking for much is it? You just need to send a message. Tell her her friends are worried because Torrin has been showing… questionable behaviors. I think you can do that.”

“Yeah.” She breathed, somewhat terrified at the prospect of texting her oldest friend. “I think I can.”

_#_#_#_

Maven overslept. Hardly a sin, since it was Sunday and the night before had been extremely tiring, physically but mainly emotionally, but once she had woken up and still remained in bed for half an hour more, she knew she was only trying to stall the inevitable.

They would have to talk. For the second time in little more than a month, Maven would have to sit down with Johanna and discuss the things that had happened between them. She was burnt out just by thinking about it.

For two years, she’d done everything she could to forget all that had happened. She had locked up the hurt in a box deep in her mind and pretended it wasn’t there at all. And now, she would be expected to open up this box and calmly go through its contents. She just wanted to stay in bed, read a book and ignore the matter at hand.

But that would be acting like a coward. She’d been choosing the path that hurt less for all this time. Now, she had the chance to allow her heart to ache in exchange of the possibility of moving forward, and she’d be damned if she didn’t take it.

Telling herself that facing this would be the only way to move forward, she pushed the blankets aside and got up, heading straight for the window. She opened the curtains in one swift movement. She’d had enough of living in the dark.

She lit a scented candle she had lying around, wanting to be distracted by its sweet perfume while she dressed herself. She picked dark grey pants and a plum shirt, along with knitted coat with flower patterns that a great aunt had knitted for her. When was the last time she hadn’t had black in her outfit?

Not surprisingly, Johanna was already in the living room when Maven climbed down the stairs. She had Hilda in her arms, and though Maven couldn’t distinguish the words, it sounded like she was talking to her daughter. Whatever it was, it was making the child smile.

“Good morning.” Maven greeted, her voice still groggy from sleep. Johanna turned her head to look at her, and gave her a bright smile.

“Good morning! How are you feeling?”

She walked up to the sofa, smiling at the child as she turned her gaze to her. “Surprisingly well. The cuts are itching, but that’s to be expected, I suppose. How did you sleep?”

“As well as a person taking care of a baby can.” Johanna snorted. “Anyway, I made scrambled eggs. They’re in the counter, so help yourself.”

“Oh, thank you.” The eggs were still warm, so Johanna couldn’t have been waiting for her for too long. While Maven ate, Johanna gracefully questioned her about how things were going in the library and at college, in return talking about what she and Hilda had been up to while she was away at work. Those were interesting little nothings, and both of them knew that it was not going to take them anywhere. Nevertheless, it helped to calm them down for the conversation they would need to have sooner rather than later.

When she finished her meal, swallowing down a cup of tea, Maven took the plate to the sink and washed it. As she turned to the living room again, Hilda had been put in her stroller, where she was joyfully slapping at some toys that hang from the top of it.

“Johanna.” Maven said, calling forth every inch of determination she had to aid her in this moment. “Can we talk?”

Johanna sighed but smiled timidly at her. “Yes, I suppose we should, shouldn’t we?”

Maven sat down on the armchair, so as to give them both some space. She was silent for a beat, before getting herself to ask the question that had haunted so many of her days.

“Why did we break up?”

Johanna fixed her stare on her, her eyes restless. Her face twitched, her eyebrows coming closer for a moment, and funnily enough, it looked like she didn’t know the answer for that either.

“I don’t remember a fight, or a reason. So what happened? Ever since you began talking to Torrin, everything went downhill, but you never told me why.”

Maven stifled back a hiccup. It had been years. This shouldn’t still hurt so much, but goodness, all she wanted was to understand where had she gone wrong.

“It was not your fault.” She answered after trying to read her friend’s expression for long moments. “Not really. I’m afraid the blame of it isn’t even Torrin’s. It’s my parent’s.”

Maven felt surprise hit her, like a bolt of electricity shocking her awake. Not that her parents had been involved in their separation, of course. She’d long since known that, as soon as they learned about the two of them, they had done something. But it was nearly frightening to see Johanna finally admit it to herself.

Seeing the shock in Maven’s face, Johanna’s shoulders slumped. “It seems you were right about that. Looking back, not only did they do everything they could to make me stay away from you, but also to make me believe that I wanted to stay away from you. They drilled into me that you’d been trying to isolate me so that I had nowhere to go for affection but you.”

“Why did you believe?” She hissed, though her anger wasn’t directed at Johanna. Maven clenched her fists and took a deep breath. The last thing she needed was to to snap at Johanna when she’d just began to believe that Maven wasn’t as bad as she thought.

“They made it hard not too. Every time I tried to talk to you, there was a punishment. And every step I took away from you they seemed to reward me and trust me more.”

Maven nodded. She wanted to understand, she really did. So she did her best to stay quiet even as she had to admit to herself that she felt betrayed. Johanna was not a dog to be won over with rewards, so there must have been something else.

“You see, when I got closer to Torrin they gave me my phone again. When we began dating, they let me stop going to therapy, and so on.”

Maven tilted her head at that. She remembered Johanna mentioning therapy one day, but she never explained what that was about.

“They made me see this psychologist after they found out about our notes.” She explained after she, too, remembered that Maven didn’t know what that was about. “But I don’t think the guy even deserves to be called a psychologist. I’m quite sure my parents were paying him to convince me of your bad intentions as well. That, and to try and talk me out of liking girls.”

Maven gasped at that, eyes wide as she stared at Johanna. She had had no idea of the lengths her parents would go to. It was so much worse than she had imagined.

“Maven?” Johanna asked, concerned at the way she seemed to have stopped breathing.

“They tortured you?” It was a wonder Maven even managed to whisper it, startled as she was. She’d heard of the things done to people who were submitted to conversion therapy, and the image of Johanna going through that was making her want to vomit.

“No, no!” Johanna quickly assured, her hands spread in front of herself in a gesture meant to calm Maven down. “Nothing of the sort. Nothing physical, at least.”

“Okay” she breathed, her heartbeat slowing down to normalcy. “That’s… something, I guess.”

Uneasy silence fell over them, too lost in their own minds as the events of years ago replayed themselves on their minds, the blanks being filled. It was only broken when Johanna spoke.

“Maven, why didn’t you try harder?” She asked, her arms now crossed around herself and her gaze towards the ground, sounding miserable. “I understand that I didn’t treat you well, but you already knew what my parents were doing, didn’t you? At least to some extent.”

Maven blinked. Of all the things she expected to be called out for, keeping her distance hadn’t been one of them. “Yes. They never really liked that we were friends.”

“Then why didn’t you make more of an effort to talk to me? One of the things that helped me convince myself that you didn’t really care is that you just… let me go. And it hurt.”

“But I did that because I was respecting you! Everything you did led me to thinking you didn’t want me around!”

“But you knew those weren’t my wishes.” Now looking at her Maven again, only Johanna’s eyes revealed how miserable that had made her feel.

“But that wouldn’t have mattered! I know it wasn’t your fault, but you had begun seeing me like everyone else. There was nothing I could-”

“Stop it” Johanna hissed, sounding more frustrated than angry. “Don’t do that.”

Eyebrows lifted, Maven crossed her arms. “Don’t do what?”

“This! You’ve always done this. You’ve gotten it into your head that if someone acknowledges your reputation, any chances at a relationship with them are over. I understand that you don’t want to insist on people who treat you like an outcast, but don’t you see how so many people have the wrong impression about you because you never tried to prove them wrong?”

“I can’t change who I am, Johanna!” Her heart ached. She thought they were beyond this. She had thought that Johanna didn’t see her like that anymore.

“Thank goodness!” Johanna exclaimed. “Thank goodness you can’t change, because you’re an amazing person!”

Where once she had been sitting straight as an arrow, Maven let herself relax against the back of the couch, her brows drawn together. This was getting too confusing for her to follow.

“You’re a selfless, caring and interesting person. You’re intelligent and dedicated to the people you love, and no one knows this. Ever since you were a child, you just got it into your head that everyone would see you as some sort of monster and there was nothing you could do about it. And so you never did anything. You never tried to make friends, or call people out when they lied about you. You seemed to revel in your reputation.”

“I don’t owe anyone explanations.” Maven muttered under her breath, only loud enough for Johanna to hear her.

“That’s true.” She acknowledged. “But you can’t just give up on people like that. Trust me, I’ve learned my lesson about insisting on them even when they stop caring about hurting you, but the same way it has always been upsetting to see you not fighting for the respect you deserve, it harmed me even more to realize you weren’t trying as hard to keep us together as I was. It made me believe that I didn’t mean that much to you after all.”

Maven’s first instinct was to defend herself, to justify her actions even though she could see that Johanna’s words were not meant to be an attack, and nor was she meant to take it as such. Instead, she took a few deep breaths. It was hard to swallow that she’d had some part of the blame in their separation.

“I hadn’t realized that this was an issue during our friendship.” She said, organizing her thoughts in as clear and concise a manner as she could. “I am sorry that it has upset you before, and I’ll reflect more about it, I promise. But Anna, I did make an effort when it came to us.”

“You did in the beginning.” Happy as she was about how well Maven was handling this, she needed her to understand her pain, to acknowledge it. Maven hadn’t been the only one to feel like the other had disappeared.

“I did until you told me not to. I was respecting your wishes.”

Tilting her head to the side, Johanna made an effort not to frown. Although she knew she hadn’t at all valued their relationship enough after things went wrong, she’d never actually told Maven to stop talking to her. She knew that sometimes people remembered past events differently, but that sounded like a bit of a stretch.

“But I never did tell you to stay away. You said it yourself, at the time you knew most of my behavior was because of my parents.”

As she sighed, Maven hugged her coat tighter around herself, as if it could shield her from the memories. “Please don’t pretend that didn’t happen, Johanna. It hurt me. Quite a bit.”

To say that it hurt her was an understatement. She’d spent nights without sleep because of those words, even going as far as crying into her pillow. She’d believed those words, taken them right into her core, to the point where she distanced herself from everyone she loved for months, believing that she was doing it for them. The only person to have a meaningful conversation with her during that time was her mother, her health quickly deteriorating in the hospital. Meanwhile, Johanna tried to understand what she meant. This could be about the time when Maven tried to warn her about Torrin, but she didn’t think she’d told her to stop talking to her then. “Are you talking about that day in Ericsonberg?”

“No! I’m talking about those messages!”

“When I broke up with you?” From what she remembered, that had been the last occasion in which they texted each other, but Johanna was sure she had been perfectly polite. Of course, she understood why Maven would have been sad about it, but it still didn’t make sense.

“Johanna.” Maven sighed, burying her face in her hands. “Did you really forget?”

She couldn’t believe that something that had cut her so deeply, left her so bitter, had simply been forgotten by Johanna, but she supposed she’d had other things to worry about. When she lifted her face, she found Johanna staring at her phone.

“I can’t find it.” She said. “Our messages were deleted. But I really don’t know when I did that.”

“So you really did forget.”

“Maven, I didn’t just forget!” She ran one of her hands through her curls, clearly unsettled. “I have no idea what you’re talking about!”

_#_#_#_

Maven’s grip on the phone was hard enough to hurt her palm. Shock alone kept her from crying as she read over the words on the screen time and time again.

“It looks like you still haven’t understood this, so I’ll spell it out for you. I don’t care for you or any of your advices. I know you’re just trying to harm me, like you do with everyone, and I don’t ever want to hear about you again. Quit being a happiness sucking spirit and leave me the heck alone.”

Nothing could have prepared her to hear (or rather, read) those words from her best friend. For half an hour, she was rendered incapable of doing even the most basic of tasks, her textbooks lying forgotten on her desk as she stared out of the window into the overwhelming brightness of the day outside.

Her heart broke a little more with each beat. She’d been a fool to text Johanna. She’d been a fool to even care. She wouldn’t commit that mistake again. Johanna had picked her side, and it definitely wasn’t hers.

She’d saved Willa’s number on her phone, and called her as soon as her mind cleared over. The phone didn’t ring for long, and soon she heard Willa’s confident voice on the other side.

“Hey, good morning, Maven! How are you doing?”

“Forget about her.”

There was a beat of silence between them before the woman recomposed herself. “What?”

“You want an advice? Forget about her. She’s made it very clear how certain she is of her choices. So forget about her, and let her suffer the consequences herself.”

Willa had began protesting, trying to to get Maven to explain what had happened, but the librarian ended the call. Tears stinging at her eyes, her knees gave out under her and she was dragged down. She was left a sobbing mess on the floor, knowing that if the person who knew her the most thought these things, there was no way they weren’t true.

_#_#_#_

Maven had never been good with being vulnerable, so it showed a great deal of commitment of her part that she opened the messages on her phone, and scrolled down until she found her conversation with Johanna. Never had she felt as exposed as when she handed Johanna her phone, letting her see the words that had haunted many of her nights.

At first, she squinted at the phone, adjusting her eyes to the weak light at which Maven kept her screen. As her eyes began moving, her face gained a horrified look to it. Just as the librarian had a hard time swallowing the message the day she’d received it, she looked like she could not believe what was in front of her.

“Maven?” She said with a tremulous voice. “I- I didn’t write this.”

Maven sighed, admittedly annoyed by the denial. The harm had already been done, it was no use pretending that it never happened. She supposed Johanna felt guilty about it, now that she realized that Maven had only wished to help, but she wished she would just apologize. Maven now knew everything she’d been facing at that time, she could finally put that behind her if only she could hear Johanna say she hadn’t meant it.

“It’s okay, Anna. I’m not blaming you.”

“No, listen to me!” Clearly distressed, Johanna locked her gaze with Maven’s, her eyes asking her friend to believe her. “I swear, I didn’t write this. No matter how confused and hurt I was, I’d never tell you these things. On top of that, I don’t remember ever receiving your message! I never got to read it.”

Damn her for making Maven hope so fiercely. “So, you didn’t mean those things?” She asked, still having a hard time wrapping her mind around it.

“Those words aren’t mine!” Johanna raised her voice, anger burning in her eyes for someone who was definitely not Maven. “Only one other person had my password. He did this.”

A part of her mind wanted to doubt; it told her that if something sounded too good to be true, then it probably wasn’t, that she should ask for proof that Johanna wasn’t trying to make a fool of her. But what would she even get for lying to her? She knew she’d be forgiven either way.

What really did convince Maven was her anger. Johanna was a naturally calm person. She always had the patience to help, to understand. But the way angry energy rolled off of her in that moment left Maven with no doubts that she was telling the truth.

The librarian sat up taller, straighter. She couldn’t believe she, too, had been played by the man. “He didn’t even tell you about the message?”

Relieved that her friend seemed to accept her explanation, Johanna let her shoulders drop, relaxing them. “No, he didn’t. Oh goodness, I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay.” She said sympathetically. Her soul seemed to grow lighter, some of the cracks in her heart being mended. She’d spent so long bitter over all that had happened, distressed by the things Johanna told her, and it had all been so pointless. She couldn’t say it felt like all the hurt melted away, like she had hoped it magically would. But it did feel so far away that the pain could barely touch her anymore.

“It’s not.” Johanna protested weakly. “This is awful. No wonder you were so mad at me when I came back.”

It was then that Maven realized just how awful she’d been when she met Johanna that evening at the cafe. How she’d screamed at her for things that weren’t even her fault and lashed out because of her pain, not even stopping to consider that Johanna had been the one who took the most hurtful fall.

“Oh shit, Anna! I’m so sorry.” Her hand went to her face, squeezing the bridge of her nose. “I was such a huge jerk that day. I’m so sorry.”

Johanna got up, and then sat down again, but in the end of the sofa closest to Maven, touching her wrist. “Hey, don’t beat yourself up. You had already apologized.”

That was true, but at the time, she hadn’t known just how hurtful her remarks could have been. After listening to the whole of Johanna’s story, that conversation gained many more layers.

“We-” Johanna stopped for a moment, caught by a wave of emotion. She moving her hand to touch Maven’s cheek. “We can’t erase the mistakes we made, but we can try to heal together.”

The look her friend gave her was filled with a mixture of hope and doubt, and Johanna wouldn’t have been able to look away even if she wanted.

“Do you really believe that, Anna?” She asked softly but with her voice filled with pain. She wished for nothing more than for that to be true, but she had to be realistic. Intentionally or not, they’d harmed each other too much.

“What do you mean?”

Maven could see in Johanna’s face that she was bracing herself for pain, and this is exactly what she meant. Could they really heal together if they were always waiting for the other to hurt them? It was extremely difficult for her, to be this close to happiness and to push it away, but it was something she had to say.

“Do you really believe we can heal together after everything that happened? What if I hurt you again?”

Brushing a strand of hair away from Maven’s face, Johanna inhaled deeply. “Yes, I do. And I’m not saying we can go back to where we left off. We’re different now from we were then. But what good did complete distance do to us?”

Maven leaned into her hand, trying to let her gentle touch soothe her.

“None.” She whispered.

“And if we hurt each other, we can apologize and work towards getting better. At least we can be friends, right?”

Tears stinging at her eyes, Maven had to control herself not to let her bottom lip tremble, and she could see Johanna’s situation was not much different from her own. She nodded weakly, afraid that any harsh movements would make this moment break. But then Johanna threw her arms around her, hugging her tightly, even if somewhat awkwardly with the arms of the couch and the armchair between them.

Maven was helpless as she began sobbing, shaking in her friend’s embrace, but it had been a long time since she’d felt so whole. After so long, she finally had real hope that they would put the past behind them and start over again. And maybe this time, she’d even feel like she deserved it.

#fic: tmwm #my fic #sketchbook ship #sketchbook ship hilda #hilda librarian #hilda librarian fanfic #hilda johanna #hilda's mum #hilda johanna fanfic

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captain-aralias · 4 years

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8, 15, 17, 28 for the writer meme, if you didn’t already get any of those

8. Share a snippet from one of your favorite dialogue scenes you’ve written and explain why you’re proud of it.

i just answered this, but since it’s you, i’ll go for some blake ;) hm....

i must say, i think i have written some pretty great dialogue for blake’s 7 in my time. here’s one of my favourite bits -

“It’s a quality operation,” Vila said. “They wouldn’t skimp on a thing like that. You want a boyfriend, Blake – and I want to go to Del Ten. Give me your promise that we can spend a week there once we find Docholli and I’m your man.”

“Vila, once we’ve found Docholli, we will have the key to finding Star One,” Blake pointed out.

“Are there any dancing girls on Star One?”

“I very much doubt it.”

“Then I’d still rather go to Del Ten,” Vila said.

“Couldn’t you wait?” Blake suggested. “Until after we blow up Star One?”

“After you blow up the Federation’s weather control systems, you mean?” Vila said. “And throw the civilised world into chaos? Right, I’m sure that would be a lovely time to take a holiday. Got any more suggestions like that, Blake? Perhaps I should invest in the stock market at the same time.”

“Two days,” Blake said. “I could give you two days on Del Ten.”

“A week!” Vila repeated.

Blake shut his eyes, and pinched the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger. He willed himself to find the strength to complete this conversation and make the right choices.

“Oh, Blake,” Vila said kindly. “You really need this, don’t you?”

Blake felt a hand rest on his shoulder and looked up into Vila’s sympathetic eyes. “Yes,” he said with relief. “I’m sorry, Vila. I don’t want to put you in this position. But I really do need this.”

“You’re going to have to give in then,” Vila told him in the same kindly tone as before. “Unless,” he said, a twinkle in his eye, “that is, you want to ask Avon to be your boyfriend...”

i could have quoted this entire scene - even this is a lot. i love writing blake and avon, i love writing avon and vila, but i really really love writing blake and vila together because there are some lovely moments in canon to draw on. they’re two characters who have very little in common except that they’re both smart. this conversation is about how blake - who almost always gets his own way - now needs something he can’t just demand that vila does, and that gives vila the upper hand repeatedly throughout this conversation. blake, even though he knows this is an awkward conversation and really should be better prepared.

i also like the different lengths of the dialogue - it has a good patter.

it’s also funny, and funny because it’s cruel to someone (in this case blake, not usually), which is very blake’s 7. also also - it ends with vila insinuating what is essentially the plot - i.e. that avon will have to pretend to be blake’s boyfriend by the end of the story - and this is a trick that i always enjoy for a section end. the audience is like - oh ho, wouldn’t that be simply TERRIBLE? ;) ;)

good times.

15. If you could choose one of your fics to be filmed, which would you choose?

hm - not sure. maybe right now ... ‘Hang the Moon’? it’s got a lot of good action that would translate well to film, and i have a very clear idea of how most of the scenes look.

it would be kind of weird, though, right to have a film of a ‘carry on’ fanfic before we have a ‘carry on’ film. so i’m finding it quite hard to visualise.

i would have loved to have written some dialogue for blake’s 7 people to actually say (assuming they remembered how to do the voices properly, paul darrow). i would be so embarrassed to present paul darrow with my porn, though (although ‘An Apple Cleft in Two’ would be so great, though, as it’s practically a bodyswap - i love the idea of seeing the real stephen pacey pretending to be blake, and paul darrow just being so angry), so it would have to be some sort of gen.

ok - i think i choose ‘Showdown’ because it basically is ‘Duel’, so I know the Beeb could have staged it. it’s got some mega emotion that gareth would have done beautifully, too -

Blake extracted his hand slowly from Avon’s. He pressed his fingers against Avon’s wrist and waited, but there was no pulse. He let the hand drop and tried the artery in Avon’s neck, but he knew he was just prolonging the inevitable. Avon was dead.

He forced himself to look back at the man who had been his friend.

Avon looked peaceful. The blood spattered on his face was not his – it was Travis’s and had fallen from Blake’s cheeks like tears. Blake screwed his eyes shut again in an attempt to stop it, and in the darkness Sinofar’s voice said,

“So – the battle is over.”

17. Do you write your story from start to finish, or do you write the scenes out of order?

i almost always write in order. when i think of a scene that is in the future, i will usually write some notes about it, but try not to write it because i very much build on (in my head? i dont know how much comes through in what gets written) what i wrote before in terms of how people think and feel/i do a lot of dialogue call-backs.

there are a few occasions where i go ahead and write something that happens later, but then i feel like i really screw myself when i try and go back and write the missing piece. i have to re-write everything i wrote previously to make it make sense... ‘Greener Grass’ actually is an example where i didn’t write out of order on purpose, but i thought i’d start with simon’s section which introduces all the bodyswap stuff fine, but it was too heavy with the bodyswap plot AND the introduction of the agatha-isn’t-here/get simon’s magic back stuff. there was just too much going on.

so then i had to write an intro section for baz, which i thin is good - it frames the story as baz’s story, which i know is what rainbow would want, and gives us calm before the storm ... as well as giving me an opportunity to write the exposition i needed.

but i had to go back an edit the next section a LOT to make room for it. which i hated.

28. Share three of your favorite fic writers and why you like them so much.

i’ll do two batches.

blake’s 7:

x_los is my girlfriend, but i knew her first as an amazing writer. i wouldn’t have written half the things i did for b7 if she hadn’t started writing these epic, involved political stories, and she writes great porn. i really am not interested in david copperfield/uriah heep, but she thinks baz is a cat killer who does not deserve the time of day, so there you go. we’re in different fandoms now.

elviaprose is not only a great writer (the foot fettish fic is incredible, given that neither she nor i have a foot fettish as far as i know), she’s also really engaged with other people’s writing and i love that. it’s really good fun.

judith proctor - i wanted to put in a second generation fan, and i was tempted to go for willa shakespeare (so good, so plotty, so porny) or nova (such pain!), but i have to go for judith. judith taught us all how incredible blake is. her love for this character, and the way that she always writes him as smart but flawed, and attractive to avon because he is smart and principled, rather than for any other reason, is fundamental to any of us reclaiming him for the future. (it’s probably not a surprise that the authors i like really influence me as a writer, but worth calling it out - i am very much saying that as well). Touching Life! so good.

carry on:

we have some amazing writers, thank you fandom <3 three of my very very predictable favourites (the same three, i think, who wrote my favourite fics of last year) are:

@basic-banshee - what can i say? (insert long pause while i think of what to say.) i mean, we all know Ban is a great writer. it’s a pleasure when the most popular writer in the fandom is also a genius. i love all her secondary characters and that she spends so much time with them. she writes the way i want to - lots of good tropey stuff, great fun AUs, and plotty plotty good plot stuff. also - she always writes the most perfect endings that just make you feel GOOD.

@sharkmartini - i think we share a lot of the same ideas about what we like in fics i.e. we like the same tropes, we like that baz is a vampire, we think the same things are hot and romantic. i love the way sharkmartini plots this and she always writes great dialogue. also, i do think we owe snowbaz smut to her - maybe it wasn’t the first-first, but ‘Monster Under the Bed’ (which is SO good, honestly still one of my absolute favourite things) seems to have influenced so much of what came after it.

@krisrix - also an amazing artist, but for me an even better writer. the smut is amazing and sexy while also at the same time being really tender. kris also writes beautiful, long amazing kisses - and again, endings that are so beautiful and tender. also - let us talk about the plotty things! i love writers who mix plot and romance (or even dare i say - smut) because i love to have all the things in one fic. What Stays and What Fades Away is so smart and interesting. and, of course, kris has written my all time most favourite trope - fake relationship.

#my content #carry on

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ofmargaery · 4 years

Photo

✦ ▓ AND WHO GOES THERE? oh, it’s just [ MARGAERY TYRELL ]. some say [ HER ] resemblance to [ LAURA HARRIER ] is almost uncanny, but the [ TWENTY-EIGHT ] year old has been in the capital for [ TEN YEARS ]. many suspect that they are the notorious [ GRAND MAESTER ] of the [ TYRELL ] family: perhaps that has made them [ SOFT-HEARTED ] && [ IDEALISTIC ] of late, when they used to be so [ ELOQUENT ] && [ INTELLIGENT ]. during the daylight hours, [ MARGAERY ] can be found working as a [ DISTRICT ATTORNEY ], but when night falls over king’s landing, they are best remembered listening to [ JOAN OF ARC by LITTLE MIX ]. may the gods be with them in these dark streets.

tldr: on behalf of Margaery Tyrell, I would like to inform you that she took a DNA test and she’s 100% that bish.

The youngest child of Mace Tyrell and Alerie Hightower, she already had three wonderful brothers who had seemed to promise to leave a mark on the world in their own ways. But for all she loved them dearly, it was always her grandmother that she idolised. Olenna’s legacy was what she wanted to live up to and continue.

She grew up happy, kind and undeniably bright. With a knack for picking things up easily, Margaery had an ease with learning and on the odd occasion that she didn’t grasp something first time her diligence was quick to ensure that she added it to her repertoire.

All she knew was that she wanted grow into a woman that her grandmother would be proud to call her granddaughter. To do that she made sure that she excelled at school, joining almost every club going and making sure that her grades were nothing left than the highest grads. It made her content for a while but she soon found herself looking for her next challenge, setting her sights on doing something for others.

At the age of sixteen she set up her own foundation with the blessing and help of her family. Knowing how important education was, it started off as a way to help finance children from low income backgrounds through college. It has evolved over the years and now it is multifaceted but mostly serves as her way to ensure that the general public isn’t forgotten while all the families war against each other. Of course, it has its uses past that and at times it’s been used to advocate for certain laws that her family are lobbying for. Although she has to keep her views somewhat private due to her job, she takes great joy in knowing the good it is doing.

Her foundation was what settled her mind on what she wanted to do with her life - continuing to improve the world she lived in somehow. She didn’t quite have the stomach for politics although undoubtedly she would have excelled at that the same way she did everything else. So instead her focus moved to the law and how it was upheld. She moved to Kings Landing for college and has been here ever since.

While studying she knew that she had a choice ahead of her - which discipline she wanted to practise. But to her the answer seemed simple. She wanted to ensure that dangerous people ended up behind bars and of course, it came alongside the added bonus of being responsible for members of other factions ending him behind bars too.

When it came to the other side of the family business, Margaery was initiated as soon as she moved to Kings Landing. She moved her way through the ranks before becoming an exarch two years ago, quickly proving that her words could just as easily be crafted into threats as they could praise.

She’s formidable in the courtroom and has an almost perfect track record of convictions. Some might be cynical and suggest it’s only because of her family’s influence that she succeeds, others might say that she is selective in which cases she chooses. Both of those might hold some truth but the reality is they’re barely a factor. She does her due diligence with every case, pouring over evidence until she had a flawless argument. With sweet smiles and concerned eyes, she rarely fails to win the jury over.

With the death of her aunt she found herself voted into the position of Grand Maester. It was a position she had expected to one day hold but not quite as soon as this. Still, she is determined to rise to the occasion and not let down the people who placed their faith in her. And when Margaery Tyrell sets her mind to something, she tends to succeed.

Personality:

Margaery would like to think that her defining trait was still her kindness and for the most part it is. She has an affinity for altruism and will always be one to put other people before herself - the one big exception to this being that her family comes before all else. But kindness doesn’t quite mean soft and although her heart acts as her conscience, she tends to follow her head more often than not. For all she is happy to have her philanthropic efforts praised, she is grateful too whenever her intelligence is mention. She might be graceful and softly spoken, with doe eyes that always communicate her empathy and understanding, but her mind is as sharp as a knife and she knows how to use it. Communication is extremely important to her and always has been when she loves people so much and as such she’s an excellent listener as well as being extremely eloquent. She loves fun and wit above all, make her laugh and she will be your friend forever.

There might be a constant balance being struck between what she deems is best for the city and what is best for her family but generally she believes that both go hand in hand. Ruthlessness is not a trait she was born with but one she’s learned and as with everything her sharp mind has taken on, she executes it perfectly. There’s a wildness in her that isn’t quiet impulsiveness - she’s far too practised for that - but something that makes her unpredictable. Of course that streak is well hidden when even she forgets about it sometimes, aside from the longing she has for open country and a desire to always be on the move. Unapologetically feminist and intersectional with it, she full believes that what’s best for society is ensuring that everyone’s voice carries equal weight. Accountability is also hugely important to her. She knows that people can make mistakes ( even though she so rarely does ) but taking ownership of such things goes a long way in her books.

Headcanons

She has a Ferrari 250 GT Berlinetta Lusso that she adores and will be found driving at any free moment she had. Not that there’s a lot of them. But basically Margaery Tyrell has a slick ride so click here for vibes.

Lives right next door to Loras because, well, he’s her best friend.

She grows rose plants on her balcony to humour her mother but her favourite plants are the orchids that she keeps inside her flat.

Other than sleeping she is rarely still. She loves being active and if she’s not working she’s doing some sort of sport, at her foundation, socialising or volunteering. It’s impossible for her to feel content simply being, she feels as though she’s wasting time.

Connections

Can be found here! But I would also love any of her canon ladies, Garlan & Willas.

#101 days later #vixere:intro

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juliandev0rak · 4 years

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From the get to know my character questionnaire, 1 for all of them (bc I know you named stella after alcohol but i wanna know about the rest lmao), and 7 and 27... also for all of them? i just love them all, hit me with the lore. —leila-of-ravens

ahh thank you for asking about all of them I have way too much fun writing character lore 💗💗💗 @leila-of-ravens

from these asks

these will inevitably get long so I’m putting the answers under the cut!

01. What does your character’s name mean? Did you pick it for the symbolism, or did you just like the way it sounded?

Beatrice

Beatrice started off as a self insert character so I gave her my name and started playing the Arcana as “Bea”, but I soon decided I wanted to make her much cooler than I am lol, so I changed a lot of her personality and named her the longer version of Bea, Beatrice. I also love the name because it reminds me of Beatrice, Dante’s muse in Dante’s Inferno. He travelled through all of the levels of hell to rescue her and it just seemed to fit with the story of the Arcana. Long story short, I sort of named her after me lol.

I chose her last name Viano from googling “Italian last names” and choosing the one I liked the sound of best lol, there’s no deep meaning for that.

Freya

I named her Freya because I love the name, but after looking up its meaning I felt it fit her really well. It’s a name from Norse origins and means “a noble woman”, and Freya’s whole aesthetic was built off of her being very dignified and elegant. She’s the type of person you’d expect to be nobility, even if she isn’t.

Aster

I googled “space names” because I wanted her to be star inspired and found the name “Astra” which means “of the stars” in Latin. I decided to go for Aster instead because I love the way it sounds. I also like how similar it sounds to Asra, I just think it’s cute that they have similar names lol.

I decided not to give her a last name because I couldn’t find one I liked, and because I thought it would be an interesting part of her background. She doesn’t remember her family at all, and that includes not even knowing her own last name.

Cam

I chose the name Camellia because I had the idea of all of Cam’s siblings being named after plants because they grew up on a farm. Camellias are one of my favorite flowers, and I like the way it can be shortened to Cam. Cam is nonbinary and basically defines their gender as “whatever feels right in the moment” lol, so having a name that can be less overtly feminine, like Cam, was important to me. I think both their full name and their nickname really suit them!

Their last name is Giardini which means “gardens” in Italian, I chose it because it goes along with the gardening / farming theme of their background.

Stella

I know I’ve explained this before but here’s the full story: It was a Friday evening in August, I poured myself a glass of Stella Rosa Black, my favorite red wine, and started playing Lucio’s route for the first time. I knew I wanted to make a new oc for his route because Beatrice would really hate Lucio, so the idea of Stella was born. I just thought it would be funny to have a character based off of alcohol, who lived at a vineyard, and I think the name Stella is very pretty.

Willa

I debated naming her Willow for a while because I wanted her to have a nature themed name, but I decided I like the sound of Willa better. It’s a sort of delicate sounding name which fits her. I chose her last name Clary because Willa is Irish-coded (because of course, there’s no Ireland in the game lol), and I thought it sounded good with her first name!

07. Is there a catchphrase or sound that they tend to make a lot (likely without being aware of it)?

Beatrice

“Oh dear” is basically her catch phrase, she doesn’t curse much so it’s kind of her go to “oh no” phrase if something goes wrong.

Freya

She has a very particular sigh that basically means she’s annoyed, she tries to keep her composure in front of people at all times so her annoyed sigh is the only sign she actively hates whoever she’s talking to.

Aster

She curses pretty much constantly but she throws in all sort of non-curse words, for example while fighting the Devil she turned to Asra and said “Fucking gumdrops my dude, this sucks!” which, although confusing, did make sense in the moment. She also says “oh worm” a lot ever since she heard Vlastomil say it.

Cam

They have a very distinctive laugh which usually turns into snorts if they’re laughing super hard, which is pretty much always.

Stella

She rolls her eyes a lot and says things like “Oh sure..” in a sarcastic tone of voice under her breath. You can’t blame her, she is dating Lucio after all which means she has to deal with him, and the courtiers, more than any one person should have to.

Willa

Willa prides herself on being an “active listener” which means that if you’re telling her something she’ll be nodding her head and saying “Uh hu” to let you know that she’s listening. She also calls everyone “sweetie”.

27. If your character was going to get arrested, what would be the most likely reason for it?

Beatrice

“I would probably be arrested for aiding and abetting fugitives. I’ve met a lot of people at the Rowdy Raven who are supposed to be behind bars- but I’ll never tell.”

Freya

“Tax evasion, money laundering, insider stock trading.. these are just examples of crimes not ones I’ve committed. I refuse to discuss this more without a lawyer present.”

Aster

“It would probably be for the time I let all of the palace horses loose in the city streets.. or maybe when I accidentally set a building on fire.. or maybe from the time I helped pirates smuggle in certain illegal goods.. well let’s just say it’s a good thing Nadia granted me immunity :) ”

Cam

“Hmmmm.. I stole a book once when I was a teenager, it was way overpriced and the merchant was super rude so I just took it when he wasn’t looking. The guilt has haunted me ever since...”

Stella

“I broke into Valerius’ house last weekend. It was for a valid reason, he stole something from my brother and I needed to get it back. Valerius called the guards but I just portalled out of there, he knows it was me but he can’t prove anything...”

Willa

“I smuggled all of the vampire eels out of the city, they weren’t happy living in the canals! They need open water to thrive, everyone knows that!”

#thank you for asking about my babies 💗#asks #my ocs #apprentice beatrice #freya viano #apprentice aster #apprentice stella #apprentice cam #apprentice willa

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mtvswatches · 4 years

Text

Wynonna Earp 2x08 No Future in the Past

Click here for previous recaps!

Stray thoughts

1) We begin the episode with a flashback of little Waverly running on very thin ice because evil Willa threw her stuffed rabbit there. You know, in case you needed a friendly reminder that Willa was the worst. Waverly uses this anecdote to explain how, in a way, she always knew she didn’t belong in the Earp family. Willa hated her, so that must mean she wasn’t one of them, right? Well, wrong, Waverly. Willa was the fucking worst and that’s the only reason she hated Waverly. Wynonna tries to comfort Waverly and argues she saw her come home right after the hospital and that she even named her herself (how cute!) But… the fact that their parents brought Waverly home as a newly born baby doesn’t mean she was their daughter, right? I guess we’ll soon find out. While Willa tried to kill Waverly, Wynonna saved her, although she doesn’t remember that part. History does repeat itself, doesn’t it?

2) The Widows pay JC a visit, and it’s not looking good for old Juan Carlos…

I truly hope they don’t kill him off because I was hoping we would find out more about him and what’s his role. He seemed like a prophet of sorts?

3) Doc is headed to the salt flats so I guess he’ll soon find out Clootie is gone and he’s in trouble, right? Also, kind of bummed because I thought he would go to the doctor’s with Wynonna.

4) Wynonna saw her baby for the first time and totally freaked out. I mean, the doctor is giving her lectures about taking proper care of the person growing inside of her and then suggesting adoption is a viable option and then boom, here’s your baby! She had, what? all of two or three weeks to process she was pregnant and the baby might be a revenant hybrid? I think she’s handling it quite well, to be frank. She didn’t want to know the baby’s sex, but I have a feeling it’s going to be a girl.

5) Wait, what happened? Was Wynonna kidnapped?!

Was that blood?!

6) The truck that took Wynonna was JC’s, so that means the widows have her, right?

7) Nicole makes a GREAT point…

NICOLE: Waves, Wynonna remembers you coming home from the hospital. Okay? So, who are you gonna trust more, your sister or a sociopathic revenant in a fuzzy coat?

But to be safe, Waverly sent in the blood samples. Okay, I’m calling it, she’s not an Earp. Or she’s a hybrid. The latter. She’s hybrid. Calling it.

8) Rosita suggests they should throw Wynonna a baby shower, and that’s very sweet of her? Unexpectedly sweet.

9) Oh, he’s back!

10) So, JC did kidnap Wynonna, the question is why? Is he possessed by the Widows or something? It didn’t look like he’d survive that bite at the beginning… Is the Church where the third seal is located?

11) So… JC has apparently a curse of his own. He claims he’d like to give Wynonna answers but he literally can’t because his burden is “to survive and witness, never to decide.” He also says that Wynonna is “all choices,” which is kind of funny considering how she really didn’t get to choose whether she wanted to continue her pregnancy or not. He then proceeds to instruct Wynonna to go into the church and do a ritual that will show her the truth, but I feel he’s leading her into opening the third seal?

12) She thinks the ritual didn’t work but she left the gun there…

13) And now she’s talking to Doc and he’s ignoring her and WTF! She’s traveled in time?!

“When am I?” That sounds like a line out of Back to the Future.

14) OMG BOBO IS BACK!!!

And he looks like Spike before he was a vampire?! And Doc is bullying him in front of everyone? He’s being an asshole and I don’t care for it one bit.

15) Doc tells Bobo to sod off, basically, and that he’s been dying since he was 14 years old. He starts coughing, and I’m afraid my prediction that he’s getting his tuberculosis back might be on point…

16) Bobo, on the other hand, seems like a righteous dude, and he expresses absolute loyalty towards Wyatt Earp, so this means that his relationship with the Earps goes way, way before he was a revenant. And how did he become a revenant? And now I’m imagining he’s Waverly’s dad and he gave her to the Earps to protect her and that’s why he had that weird connection with her since she was a little girl? Am I insane? Please, don’t tell me.

17) I really enjoy the call back to Waverly’s safe phrase from a few episodes ago, “tacos are tasty.”

18) Wynonna finds her way back to the church only to find a dying Bobo del Rey after Wyatt shot Sheriff Clootie and his THREE WIVES are pissed off. So, I guess, Clootie the Stone Witch was one of these widows and the other two are the ones that possessed Mercedes and her sister, right? But how did Bobo die and why did he become a revenant?

19) Father Juan Carlo! So this dude also goes all the way back, huh? Did he try to mediate between Constance and the two widows? Is that how he got cursed?

20) Rosita is being super friendly and sweet, and Waverly is kind of suspicious and so am I? Nicole is trying to understand Rosita from the outsider’s perspective, but I don’t know, it seems too iffy.

21) Dolls is threatening JC and the padre says “she needs to see the past if we have any hope for a future.” And what does it all mean?!

22) So… Constance Clootie locked her demon husband away with the three seals. I guess if the three seals are opened, the Big Baddie will be released in the present, right? If I’m correct, there’s only one seal left…

23) And the reason JC finally decided to intervene was that he’s dying. Is it because of the Widow’s bite? Why didn’t they kill him? I still think he might be playing Wynonna…

24) It turns out Wyatt shot Bobo while he was being held by Clootie as a human shield. And that’s how he became a revenant! Before dying, Clootie cursed Earp by saying that all those killed by Peacemaker will go to Hell until Earp’s death when they will be resurrected until the next Heir kills them all. So… Bobo became a revenant because of his loyalty to Earp. Constance offered to give him a way out if he helped her find her sons’ bones. And that’s how their deal was born.

25) Oh, no. The DNA results arrived and Nicole kept them hidden from Waverly because “she was trying to protect her.” She’s not an Earp, is she? I love Nicole, but… why would she take the choice from Waverly? I think this was the worst possible way she could’ve found out she was not an Earp. Instead of being there for Waverly to support her when she found out, Nicole kept it hidden from her and hurt her. I don’t like this.

26) The third seal… is a ring on Doc’s finger, a ring given to him by Clootie since the moment she threw him in the well. Bobo was given a choice… rescue Doc, get the ring and be cured, and allow Doc and Wyatt to be reunited. Or let Doc in the well forever, die, come back as a revenant and fulfill Constance’s wish to get the bones of her sons back. I guess Bobo was very jealous of Doc and Wyatt’s relationship, wasn’t he? Was the guilt over this choice what led him to work with Wyatt after he was a revenant, even though they were technically enemies?

27) Oh, Padre JC…

28) Well, here’s demon Dolls to save the day…

It’s his love for Wynonna what brought him back, right? These two are going to be a thing, I feel it in my bones, but I’m Team Doc ugh! And now he mercy-killed JC and damn, I really liked him.

29) Aaaand the Widows are setting the church on fire while both Wynonna and Dolls lie there unconscious. Cool. Cool cool cool.

30) Now Bobo actually sees Wynonna and can talk to her and calls her his angel, and… did she give him his nickname? And told him to remember how much she loved Wyatt Earp even after he becomes a revenant. So…? This means this trip back in time altered their future? OMG! It did! She told him that his angel’s name was Waverly so that he would protect her!!! That’s why he’d always protected Waverly!

31) In return, Bobo saved them by ringing the Church’s bell and waking Wynonna up.

32) Shit, Bobo saved his angel.

Can I just say that I love the relationship between these two A LOT? Like, a lot.

33) Dolls actually counted the seconds Wynonna didn’t breathe. That’s sweet.

34) OMG how didn’t I realize this? WYNONNA DIED. For a few seconds, but she did die! THAT MEANS… the revenants will be back! BOBO WILL BE BACK?!

35) YASSSSSSSSSSSSS!!!

36) Wow, what an intense episode! I feel like this a pivotal episode in the show, isn’t it? A game-changer. Like, it goes back to the beginning of the story and sets up the future while tying some loose ends. I guess Waverly and Bobo are not related after all, but how amazing is it that Wynonna’s quest is the reason Bobo maintained a good relationship with the Earps and protected Waverly? And what will it mean for Waverly to have Bobo back? Will she go ask him for answers about her real parents? And will Wynonna dying have other ramifications? I mean, she’s sort of reset the cycle, hasn’t she? That means that another Earp must become the Earp when she turns 27. But if Waverly is not an Earp, then who?! Wynonna’s baby? Will they do a time jump? Is this a Connor situation? So many questions!

More questions: Wynonna mentioned how her mother called Waverly her “angel”, which is Bobo’s monicker for her as well. Could it be that Waverly is her mother and Bobo’s love child? I mean, she was looking at the test results as she remembered how Bobo rescued her, so that has to mean something, right? And if she is a hybrid, does that mean that she could still be an Heir? Can you tell that I’m obsessed with this storyline? Like, Wynonna’s one-night-stand mentioned that it had happened once before, so this has to mean something, it must be connected to the main storyline...

Even more questions: If the revenants are those killed by Peacemaker, not an Heir, does this mean that both Willa and Wynonna’s father might return as revenants? She did kill them with Peacemaker, after all.

Even MORE questions: Where does this whole seal-in-the-ring leave Doc? Why were Wynonna and Dolls so cozy in the bed as if they were a couple? Has Wynonna’s quest altered their past and their present as well?

TOO MANY QUESTIONS, I’M SORRY, BUT PLEASE DON’T ANSWER ANY OF THEM, I’M JUST TRYING TO ORDER MY THOUGHTS AND LET YOU KNOW WHERE MY MIND’S AT AFTER WATCHING THIS AMAZING EPISODE.

I’m truly in love with this show, I think it’s the closest thing to Buffy in the sense of how it blends different genres while still being a mainly supernatural show and how it has the characters and their relationships at the forefront while building this captivating mythology. I’m super glad you all got me to watch this show! I just hope I finish watching season 3 before season 4 is released, I’d love to watch the new episodes as they come out!

37) Hope you enjoyed my recap, and, as usual, if you’ve got this far, thank you for reading! If you enjoy my recaps and my blog, please consider supporting it on ko-fi.Thanks!

#Wynonna Earp #Waverly Earp #Doc Holliday #Xavier Dolls #Bobo Del Rey #fUCKING BOBO DEL REY IS BACK MY PRAYERS WERE ANSWERED #WE recap #recap #WE 2x08 #mine

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dcnativegal · 4 years

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Day 9 of a National Emergency

Day 11 of a Pandemic

It’s Day 9 of a National Emergency, as declared by President #45. (On March 21, 2020)

There are many creative memes floating around the interwebs: this might be my favorite:

“Kinda feeling like the earth just sent us all to our rooms to think about what we’ve done.”

Valerie and I are in the house in Paisley, with Griffey the poodle and Moe the cat. We have fabric and yarn for making masks to protect people, including us, from the novel coronavirus known as Covid19, which popped out of the animal kingdom to the bipedal mammalian one known as humanity, in Wuhan China, in December of 2019. The deaths from covid19 in Italy have surpassed the ones in China where many more people were infected.

“A staggering 793 people died TODAY alone in Italy from the Coronavirus. That makes it the single deadliest day for any nation in the entire pandemic.” (Shaun King, Instagram.)

Although the medical system in Italy is sophisticated, the people and public health system were too slow. And the average age is higher than average? Iran is also devastated, while the USA screws down tighter with sanctions. The countries that have dealt with the virus while ‘flattening the curve’? South Korea, Singapore, and finally, China.

There are no positive tests in Lake County because there are no tests. There are a few people reporting the symptoms of sore throat, fever, shortness of breath, and fatigue. Valerie’s friend, who is also Valerie’s second husband’s eighth wife, but who’s counting, had a sore throat and just didn’t feel well, and went walking with Valerie and Griffey on the desert road by the Paisley airport, to my consternation. Valerie is 72, and is hale and hearty most of the time, but has this little flaw: an autoimmune disorder that kicks her butt, or rather the myelin sheath of her nerves, following any immune battle. I wasn’t around to forbid it, so all I can do is point out that Valerie is at higher risk than the average 60+ year old.

I might be, too, given my general lack of aerobic fitness and, um, insulin dependent diabetes. Also, sleep apnea and hypertension.

The person I worry most about is Toni’s husband, Al, who has been smoking cigarettes for 50+ years and uses oxygen now. He had just resurrected community theater in Paisley and we were rehearsing when the ‘social distancing’ directive from Governor Brown came down. I am to play Cora, a busy body and gossip in a small New England town, foil to the proper but also gossiping member of the welcome committee, Reba. And we both apparently dislike Willa Mae, played by Valerie.

The play will happen at some point. But I refuse to memorize my lines until I know when we start up rehearsals again.

Covid 19 would take out Al in a New York minute.

Schools are closed, restaurants are ‘take out only’. No one is traveling, with the exception of my sister’s youngest child, 19 year old Makoto, who flew east from Japan, to Los Angeles, to Philadelphia, cutting short his adventure as a student abroad. He became fluent in Japanese, and posted daily on Instagram. Now he’s in quarantine at his father’s home, just to be safe.

I have had moments in the past two weeks where I had trouble feeling at all safe or grounded. Join the club, Miss Lincoln. I sat in a meeting in a large circle of mostly women who all have an interest in helping ‘senior citizens’: the Aging Services Collaborative. And for me, there was a large elephant in the room that had my attention the entire time called ‘Coronavirus.’ It was Thursday, March 12. We were meeting in the Lakeview Senior Center, and the director got rather defensive when someone asked if she had shut down the lunch program. She said there’s be a serious backlash if she shut it ‘too soon.’ No such thing as too soon in the pandemic: by the next day, the senior lunch program was shuttered.

I was cranky and agitated in that meeting, and the younger women, new to the Collaborative, probably though I was a menopausal bitch. I wonder if they look back now, a week later, and think me prescient. Maybe a prescient menopausal bitch. At one point I said something to the effect of, we can choose to be South Korea or Italy. Let’s be like South Korea.

I also still get really wound up when the conservative Trumpian assholes in this county pipe up on Facebook about how the whole thing is a fraud, a hoax, a tactic to get to “Marshall Law.” Omigod. Like this guy:

Snowflake waving wildly here. If I could address this man directly, I would say the following:

Except we are not paying for it equally. Poor people always have a harder time.

Someone pointed out that, when this is all over, it will not be the CEOs and billionaires who saved us, but the nurses and janitors and grocery store clerks. Also, the truckers, the doctors and family nurse practitioners and physicians’ assistants.

I can’t retort to the delusion MAGA Lake county resident because we who work for Lake Health District are frequently scolded about posting anything in social media about Covid 19 because we ‘represent the hospital.’ Hmf, I’ve been muzzled. I try to read less of ‘Lakeview Announcements’ and more NYTimes. Still, I overhear bullshit at work. It’s not good for my blood pressure.

I am trying to figure out how to be useful at work, and I’m signed up to be a ‘greeter’ at the front entrance, and staff the ‘hotline’ which means I call folks who have symptoms to see how they’re doing, and wait for calls. The clinics are closed, the acute care is cleared out for the most part, the Operating Room where Hope works is ‘emergencies only.’ People drive up to a tent in front of the hospital and get their temperature taken. They’re asked, by a medical assistant who has a high school education and some extra training, whether they’ve been traveling, have a sore throat or any other symptoms. If they answer no to all and have no fever, they may be allowed to proceed to the emergency room, clinic, or to an appointment with the staff, like the head of corrections who came by on my greeter shift. He’s an enormous man, married to a pretty woman who holds at least 3 jobs in Lakeview including a part time Area Agency on Aging gig that’s directed by the Klamath group. Many non profit or governmental entities are based in Klamath and have a partial oversight in Lake County, the red-headed step child of Klamath County. This woman, and a south Asian man nicknamed “avatar’ by the BLM staff because they couldn’t remember “Arvinder”, and I were to start working on developing a “Village” volunteer effort in Lakeview. Then, the virus.

There are some volunteer activities spontaneously springing up in Lakeview; one facebook group is called Helping Hands of Lakeview. There are helpful things going on in Paisley through informal networks. I have one primary volunteer job: to pick up books at the Lakeview Library that sit in canvas bags labeled Paisley. And drop them off to Jan, who I think is the informal town mayor. She knows everyone, and everything, and reared her kids here.

I saw this on twitter:

Most of the volunteer stuff seems to happen via Facebook, a group called Lakeview Announcements. That’s where a lot of political bickering also happens. Missing dogs. Reports of ‘tweakers’ thieving around. Well of course they’re stealing, when no one will hire them, when the US of A punishes what is actually an illness, not a crime. An illness born of childhood trauma. But I digress.

No more crochet/ knitting/ rug hooking at the cavernous Bowling Alley’s party room. No more church, either.

We watched the marvelous Presiding Bishop Curry preach on our computers last Sunday, and listened to gorgeous church music and sonorous prayers, online from the Washington National Cathedral, one of my favorite Episcopal places. We’ll see what’s streaming again tomorrow, Sunday morning.

The knitting group is contemplating making face masks. So is Valerie. I’ve been looking at ‘the literature’ and there is one and only one study, in 2013, looking at the efficacy of homemade masks versus ‘respirators’ or ‘surgical masks.’ Of course, they are not as good but they are better than nothing. And corvid 19 seems to go straight for the throat. I’m thinking, those Safeway employees have been working really hard, and they are more at risk at the moment than health care workers at Lake Health District.

It’s a very strange time, full of opportunity for goodness and for greed. I’m glad my kids are safe, we are healthy so far, and I still receive a paycheck. We’ll see how this evolves.

"Nothing has prepared us for this moment. All we have is each other. Your safety is my safety. Protecting myself means protecting you, too. We are one race. Human race." - Jose Antonio Vargas

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mswyrr · 5 years

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okay, i’m sorry, i gotta say one more thing about the DW finale

Please block my “dw negativity” tag if this kind of content will harsh your squee!

Okay, so the bullying theme in The Witchfinders was really well handled IMO. In particular, Willa’s journey and Yaz and Becka were great. Willa actually becomes complicit with this horrible bullying, because not everyone is strong all the time, but she’s able to come through it and be stronger. And Yaz - brave, amazing Yaz once just had to endure utter torment at school because sometimes you’re helpless for a while, and it hurts. It will always hurt. But you can also move forward. And Becka is that thing Tumblr hates which is a villain who’s about the human psychology of the worst sort of behavior - the way she torments and kills in a desperate and repulsive attempt to project her own self-hatred and fear. The way she’s been trained her whole life to hate and fear women. It’s both understandable and not acceptable. And understanding isn’t acceptance, it’s feeling out the darkest places humans can go to as a way of understanding yourself and others that actually empowers you rather than misleading you.

It doesn’t shy away from failure and struggle and sin even for people who are doing less awful things, so the positivity that the episode is able to find feels real. It says: Yaz got through her year of torment, she has friends now, she has a purpose, you can too. It says: Willa was weak and complicit but she’s not a worthless person, she can come back from that. The Doctor struggles with her own darkness but she faces it bravely, without fear, and is able to be kind and do good within it. James I is cruel because he, like Becka, lets his fear control him and is constantly hurting others to escape his own feelings of inner darkness.

They want so desperately to be pure and run from their own darkness that instead of handling it responsibility they just inflict it on others, turn others into scapegoats.

And, again, understanding doesn’t mean approval, re: Becka... though the biggest bully, the one who led the charge and had the most power, James I, actually gets away. And ofc he did. But that doesn’t cancel out the positive that people were able to find.

That’s a story with a core of human honesty. The good things it said are said honestly, in recognition of how hard and painful life can be.

It Takes You Away does that really well too. It goes to a dark place! Using surrealism and a fairy tale tone, it doesn’t shy away from how deeply grief and mental illness can hurt us. It isn’t dishonest about the fact that sometimes parents, even parents who are otherwise loving, utterly fail their children. Sometimes people are in a desperate state emotionally and do terribly cruel things (the Solitract, Erik) and that’s not okay, but that also doesn’t mean they’re permanently evil.

And it’s also only about such darkness and sadness because it’s about *love*. You don’t hurt that much if you don’t also *love* so much. And in the end the Solitract, and Graham, and Erik choose to love enough to confront pain in order to treat the people they love right. Erik accepts reality, the place he doesn’t want to be without his wife, because Hanne is there. She needs him.

For this part, Graham chooses to be the one who wouldn’t abandon Ryan, not even for a perfect dream. And the Solitract learns to be a real, loving friend to the Doctor by letting her go.

That has *truth* to it. About how much love overwhelms and destroys us and how hard it is to deal with sometimes. But also the choices that we all have to strive to make--and fail at sometimes--in order to be loving to each other in good rather than possessive or cruel ways.

Those are both episodes that I think could help child viewers... because they helped me too! As an adult. And good writing for children/families is able to do that, to speak deeper truths through Fantasy and Sci Fi in such a way that a viewer can go as deep as they need to in thinking about it.

“It Takes you Away” is not a depressing realistic drama about, like, a parent with clinical depression. That would be something for adults only. Also... not something even I would be interested in, because I think fantasy and fairy tales are a more cathartic way to talk about pain--just for my tastes--than straight drama. But anyway.

Good “morals” aren’t simple “morals” at all, they’re recognition of struggle. That there is darkness and finding/making light is hard, but it is possible. Even after you’ve failed or sinned. Even as the broken person you are.

What “The Battle of Ranskoor Av Kolos” had to say about religion and kindness and faith was utterly empty and facile compared to that. The Doctor’s final words made me wince, they were so dishonest. Because the religious peoples’ deeper logic wasn’t explored, the seriousness of their crimes wasn’t handled with any weight. And so those final words just felt like a total lie to me.

Pretending the world is morally simplistic and facile doesn’t nourish anyone’s soul, child or adult.

I felt the same way about the weirdly anti-adoption moral re: Yoss in “The Tsuranga Conundrum.” There was no recognition of complexity or failure. No acknowledgment that sometimes a parent has to give a child up and that is the kindest, most loving thing they can do, because they know in their heart they are not ready or capable to be a parent.

I just, honestly, feel like someone needs to sit Chibnall down and give him some actually *good* child/family aimed stories and films and tv shows. Because he seems to think that something more basic and insulting than Sunday school lessons I remember having drilled into my head is what’s called for and it’s so... completely not how you do that.

It doesn’t even require that extensive a level of research, though. Honestly, all he’d have to do is really pay attention to what the better writers than him in the season are doing.

#doctor who #dw spoilers #dw negativity #dw meta #my meta #meta #chris chibnall

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bootz-n-catz · 6 years

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Chapter: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10

Title: Why’d You Come In Here (Lookin’ Like That)

Rating: E (Ch9 is NSFW)

Summary: Waverly is drowning in student debt, can’t find a good date to save her life and wants something different out of her life. When Chrissy approaches her to be on ‘The Bachelorette’, she takes it as her chance to do something adventurous, find some financial stability and maybe find love along the way. But what she didn’t realize is that the owner of the ranch they’re staying on, Nicole Haught, would be an unlikely contender for her heart.

You can read the latest chapter below or on AO3

Last week on The Bachelorette Canada!

Waverly stands in front of two roses. All three remaining guys stand in front of her. Champ looks cocky, Perry appears stoic and B-train looks nervous.

We cut to B-train’s interview, he has tears in his eyes. “I just...I’m not ready for our journey to be over, you know? She’s such a cool dude and I’m a cool dude and we could be really happy together.”

Cut back to B-train twitching nervously from his spot. Waverly picks up one of the roses, she looks down on it before looking back up dramatically.

“The first rose, goes to…”

We see quick cuts of all the guys before she smiles.

“B-train.”

B-train whispers, “Yes.” He practically bounces over to Waverly, wide smile on his face as she pins the rose on his jacket. “Thank you.”

Waverly smiles back at him and cups his cheek briefly. “Thank you.”

B-train gets back in the line and Waverly looks down at the final rose in her hand. We cut between Perry and Champ. The music builds dramatically, the cutting getting faster. Finally Waverly looks up, tears in her eyes as she says:

“Champ.”

Perry hangs his head and Champ pats him on the back in mock sympathy before he goes up to Waverly. She pins the rose on his lapel and he winks at her.

Cut to Champ’s interview where he says. “I’m not surprised. We had an amazing time in the Fantasy Suite. You can’t just ignore that kind of connection. You know?”

Perry’s interview is much sadder. He stares off, away from the camera as tears gather in his eyes. “I just...thought we had a connection. I thought she could be the one.” He wipes his eyes as he sniffled. “It just hurts that...she didn’t feel what I feel.”

We’re back at the rose ceremony where Waverly is hugging Perry goodbye. There are whispered things between them that the camera can’t really pick up, but both of them are teary eyed as they pull away. Waverly smiles sadly as Perry walks away.

Then, tonight, on the action packed season finale of The Bachelorette Canada!

The guys go to Waverly’s hometown and meet her family.

There’s a shot of Waverly running up to the Homestead, Wynonna coming out of the house and the two sisters collide in a hug. Happy laughter fills the air and Wynonna pulls back to kiss Waverly’s forehead.

“I missed you, baby girl.”

“I missed you too.”

Cut to Champ sitting across from Wynonna at the kitchen table. Wynonna just stares at him as a sound bite plays over the footage.

“I don’t know,” she says, “he just reminds me of one of the tools I’ve run into while-...cabbage farming.”

We cut to Champ’s interview. He’s smiling and looking happy. “I’m feeling really confident. Wynonna obviously loves me. I’m in love with Waverly, she’s in love with me...it’s no question. I’m getting that rose.”

The camera cuts to B-train sporting a dopey grin. “We have chemistry!” It shows shots of B-train and Waverly walking hand and hand through Purgatory. “We really have a connection. She met my family and I met hers and we’re just a good fit. I feel it.”

Then, Waverly will give out the final rose.

There’s a dramatic shot of Waverly from the back, looking out a window as the sun sets. She’s wearing a silvery white gown with a slit all the way up the side and high heels. Her hair is done up in a bun, neck and back exposed. She looks out at the sunset, face serious.

“I have never felt more overwhelmed.” Her voice talks over shots of her walking around the ranch, looking introspective. “I love Champ because he’s handsome, funny...attentive...and I love B-train because he’s so sweet and his family is amazing. I can tell he would click with my family.”

Waverly sighs and we see her in her interview. She looks tired, but still beautiful. She shakes her head, conflict visible on her face. “I think taking them both home to meet Wynonna has really informed my decision.”

The camera cuts to Champ and B-train standing out on the porch of the house. The sun is setting behind them and it all looks very dramatic. Their hands are clasped in front of them and they look nervous.

“I mean, I’m choosing my spouse tonight,” Waverly says over a shot of her walking up and standing in front of them, a single rose in her hand. “I’m so terrified I’m going to make the wrong choice.”

The music swells as the camera cuts between shots of them all looking apprehensive.

This week on the finale of The Bachelorette Canada!

***

Waverly read back over the letter for the thousandth time.

Dear Nicole-

She skimmed the rest and nodded, satisfied. She slipped it into the envelope and sealed it before she could change her mind. There was a knock at her bedroom door and she walked over. She opened it to reveal Jeremy standing there with his usual clipboard and headset.

“Hey, Waverly,” he said with a smile, “the car’s here. You ready to go?”

Waverly couldn’t help but sigh in relief. She was so relieved to be going back home. Finally. It had felt like months. Being isolated from her family and friends made the time stretch on even longer. Although...the moments she had spent with Nicole really did make the time lovely. Every moment. Every touch.

Her heart ached at the thought of Nicole. It had been almost a week since everything blew up and it wasn’t getting any easier. She missed Nicole. God she missed Nicole. More than air. The heaviness in her chest had only just begun to lift, making it slightly easier to breath. Most of her nights were spent curled in her sheets and crying. Waverly had to force herself not to wear Nicole’s sweatshirt every day. To just let herself be wrapped up in Nicole’s comforting scent.

She shook herself from her thoughts just long enough to remember Jeremy was standing in front of her. “Um, yes,” she said looking back at the overnight bag she had packed. She turned back to Jeremy and held up the envelope, small smile on her face. “Mind doing me a quick errand after I leave?”

Jeremy just nodded enthusiastically.

***

Waverly hugged Wynonna, not wanting to let go. She smelled like leather, whiskey, and gunpowder and Waverly missed her so much. She hadn’t realized how much until she was hugging her. The warm leather of Wynonna’s jacket enveloped her and she felt tears prickling at the corners of her eyes.

“I missed you, baby girl,” Wynonna said, voice vibrating in her chest.

“I missed you too,” Waverly muttered into her sister’s shirt.

The prickling on the back of Waverly’s neck let her know the cameras were on them. Not that she should be surprised, they were always on her. Especially after everything with Nicole. It was like Lucado had hired five extra cameramen to follow her around. Waverly pulled back and Wynonna planted a firm kiss on her forehead. She smiled and looked up at her sister.

“Now why don’t you tell me all about these guys you’re banging?” Wynonna said, wiggling her eyebrows.

Waverly’s cheeks tinted and she pushed Wynonna lightly. “Wy! I’m not-” her eyes darted ever so subtly to the side, checking to make sure the cameras were still there in her peripherals. “I have some sensibilities.”

Wynonna caught her look, her own eyes moving over her shoulder to look at the cameras before giving Waverly a subtle nod.

“Are you okay?” Wynonna whispered, just low enough for Waverly to hear.

Waverly felt the floodgates opening, throat tight with emotion as tears burned the corners of her eyes. She sniffled and shook her head subtly.

“I’m not okay,” Waverly whispered. “I’m…”

She bit her bottom lip and held back what she wanted to say. Everything about Nicole and how she fucked everything up. Wynonna squinted at her.

“Should I tell these people to piss off?” she muttered. Waverly just shook her head and Wynonna nodded again.

“Let’s go inside,” Wynonna said a little louder, putting her arm around Waverly’s shoulders and steering her inside. Waverly melted into Wynonna’s embrace, thankful that she could still read Waverly’s subtle signals. It used to drive Willa nuts when they were younger. Communicating with barely seen flickers of the eye. She winked at Waverly as the door to the Homestead closed behind them.

***

A few hours later when they were finally away from the cameras. Waverly was exhausted. To say the least.

Today had been “Champ’s day” in Purgatory which meant she walked him all around the town and they ended the night at Shorty’s where Rosita was bartending. Wynonna had gotten drunk, per usual, but definitely played it up for the cameras. She was surprisingly comfortable in front of the camera, though Waverly was sure she shouldn’t be surprised. Wynonna did like messing with people and if that meant spouting off ridiculous facts about cabbage farming while drinking then so be it.

Lucado seemed thrilled with all the soundbites they were getting from her. She was even more thrilled by the drama that Champ brought when they got a few drinks in him at Shorty’s. When he leaned over the bar and hit on Rosita Waverly could practically see Lucado salivating over the footage.

Waverly did her part, acting scandalized when Rosita told her later and talking to Champ tearfully about it afterwards.

But in the back of her mind, all she could think about was Nicole. She wondered if she’d read her letter yet. The letter in which she had poured her heart out,all while telling Nicole she was off the hook. She was fine and Waverly would make sure that she wasn’t shown on television. Ever.

The tightness in Waverly’s chest still hadn’t dissipated since that day everything went wrong and she was just going through the paces now.

Waverly had convinced Lucado to let her stay at the Homestead in her own room as long as she didn’t watch television or go on the internet. As soon as the cameras were gone, Waverly threw herself face down on the couch with a groan.

“Having that good of a time, baby girl?” Wynonna said. She lifted up Waverly’s feet and slipped under them, setting herself down on the couch with Waverly’s feet in her lap. Waverly turned onto her back and looked over at Wynonna who smiled at her sympathetically.

“I’m so tired,” Waverly whispered.

Wynonna squeezed Waverly’s foot and leaned her head back against the couch.

“Wanna...you know...talk about it?” Wynonna said with only the barest hint of a cringe which was well appreciated.

Waverly smiled at her sister just as she felt her throat closing again. She looked at the television she wasn’t allowed to watch and saw the dark reflections of her and her sister in the glass. She shook her head and tried to swallow her grief.

“I...fell in love,” Waverly muttered.

Wynonna hit her leg and smiled. “Waves! That’s great! Isn’t that what you went on the show for?”

“Yes but...no,” Waverly sighed, tears already forming. “I fell in love with someone...not on the show.”

“Oh.”

“The woman who owns the ranch-“

“Oh shit.”

“And we had amazing mind blowing sex-“

“Ugh, gross-“

“-and then I fudged it up. Royally.”

Wynonna smirked. “You’ve been on television too long, Waves, you can curse now.”

Waverly rolled her eyes. “Anyways. I...fell in love with her and now I’ve really screwed the pooch. I...didn’t mention to her that the show knew about us.” She frowned as the truth hit her painfully. “Well we weren’t actually…together. I guess. She hasn’t talked to me since.”

She looked over at Wynonna who had a sympathetic smile on her face. “This may be a dumb question but...have you tried to talk to her?”

Waverly pulled one of the decorative pillows to her chest and shook her head. Wynonna gave her a knowing look and Waverly quickly defended herself. “I left her a letter! Before I came home.”

Wynonna blinked at her. “A letter-? I’m sorry, Waves, is this the early nineteen hundreds or something? Did you send it via the Pony Express?”

Waverly groaned and pressed the pillow to her face with a long sigh. “I didn’t-...I wouldn’t have been able to take it if I went to see her and she rejected me,” Waverly admitted softly.

She felt a soft squeeze to her foot and went back to cradling the pillow. Wynonna was squinting at her, scrutinizing Waverly in a way that made her squirm.

“What’s her name?” Wynonna finally asked.

“Nicole,” Waverly said with a sigh, “Nicole Haught.”

Wynonna blinked at her for a moment. “Her...last name is-?”

“Yep.”

“And she’s-”

“The hottest thing I’ve ever seen, yes.”

Wynonna practically cackled and Waverly rolled her eyes. “I’m going to give her so much shit for that name.”

Waverly threw the pillow at Wynonna’s face. “Don’t! If she’ll even…” Waverly groaned and put her hand over her face. “It doesn’t matter. I told her she was done with this mess. That I would leave her alone.”

“So?” Wynonna said with a shrug. “If she cares about you it shouldn’t matter.”

“Yeah but...she doesn’t want to be on camera. She said so herself,” Waverly said. “And if I don’t choose one of the guys, they’re going to make her life hell until she agrees to be on camera. I can’t do that to her.”

Wynonna squeezed Waverly’s foot again. “Baby girl, if this girl loves you back, I guarantee being on camera is a small price to pay.”

Waverly shook her head and ignored the twisting in her stomach. The feeling that she had been the one to mess this whole thing up. Not just her and Nicole, she could have messed up everything up for Chrissy too after she had worked so hard to get where she was. She felt the tears prickling at her eyes and sniffled softly.

“Wynonna. I love her and I ruined it,” Waverly said just as the tears started to fall. Wynonna pat her lap and Waverly turned her body so she could lay her head in it. Her sister ran her hand through her hair and whispered comforting words that Waverly couldn’t quite make out over her own sobs. She couldn’t have Nicole, but she could at least relish in the comfort of home for now.

***

Waverly forced a small smile as Champ tried to engage Gus in some kind of talk about beer. The idea for the day was basically that Champ and B-train would “learn how to run a bar” from Gus. They had all had dinner with them individually the night before. By dinner, of course, she meant they all sat around a table with food they had no intention of eating.

Gus kept shooting Waverly looks across the table each time one of the guys said something particularly dumb and Waverly had to keep her face as neutral as possible for the cameras. She was sure they were having a field day with all of Gus’ reactions. Waverly hadn’t been allowed to talk to Gus after the camera’s left and she was sure the woman would have enough to say when they had their “heart to heart” later.

Champ only managed to break one glass and B-train was actually super sweet through the whole situation. He listened intently to Gus and asked her questions about the bar and her family. Waverly sat on the other side of the bar in her Shorty’s uniform with a small smile. At one point he winked at her and she even let herself blush.

Later that day, Waverly was getting her makeup retouched as the cameras set up outside of the McCready house. She looked out the window of the makeup truck at the house and sighed wistfully. It was the house she grew up in after her family was gone and it was just her and Wynonna. Until it was just her.

Waverly’s heart ached at the thought and thankfully the makeup person stepped away from her and Jeremy came to walk her to the makeshift set. Gus was already sitting on the porch, cup of tea cradled between her hands as another makeup person brushed blush onto her cheeks.

Gus smiled at Waverly as she sat in the chair next to her, head still tilted up towards the makeup artist. “Is this what it’s like to be a movie star?”

Waverly chuckled and leaned back in her chair. “Pretty close.”

“Can’t say I care much for it,” Gus said with a wink as the makeup person walked away.

The cameras had already started rolling. They always did before they were expected to catch as many “candid” moments as possible. But Waverly desperately wanted to talk to her Aunt and if that meant having a heart to heart in front of the cameras, she was going to do it.

Waverly couldn’t help the break in her smile when Gus reached over and took Waverly’s hand in her own.

“Honey, are you happy?” Gus started, voice soft and motherly.

Waverly felt the tears pressing behind her eyes again and she forced her smile. “I...I’m just confused.” Waverly took a deep breath. “I don’t know what to do. I feel like I’m being pulled in two different directions.”

She wished she could talk candidly. That she could tell Gus all about Nicole and how much she loved her. And how much she really screwed it up. This, now, was her penance. Going through the rest of the show and having to pick one of the guys. She had wondered how long she’d have to keep up the charade that she was in love with him before she could call it off.

She desperately wanted to tell Gus that the two things she was being pulled between were the show and the woman she had fallen in love with so quickly. But instead she was forced to keep doing what she had done for weeks. Pretend to be only about the guys.

Gus squeezed her hand with a small smile. “I talked to Wynonna this morning,” she said with a pointed look that made Waverly’s stomach drop. “Watching you grow up, I’ve always known one thing. You’re an extraordinary young woman, Waverly Earp, and anyone would be lucky to have you by their side.”

Waverly felt her throat tighten and she sniffled lightly, holding back her tears yet again. “I just...how do I know if I’m making the right choice?”

“Listen to your heart,” Gus said, “Your instincts. I know you got ‘em, Waverly. Your heart will tell you what it needs, you just have to listen to it and be brave.”

“What if I can’t be brave?” Waverly asked, cameras fading into the distance as her heart stuttered painfully at the realization.

Gus shook her head, smile still in place. “Dear, you’ve been brave your whole life. There’s no reason to stop now.”

Waverly nodded and stood up, Gus standing up and pulling her into a tight hug. Waverly sniffled and took comfort from her Aunt’s arms around her as she let herself cry just a little bit. She didn’t know if she could change the outcome of anything. It felt too late.

Gus kissed the side of Waverly’s head and whispered. “Listen, Waverly, no tv show is worth throwing true love away for. You hear me?”

“Yeah,” Waverly answered, voice cracking. “I know, Gus.”

“Good,” she said pulling away and holding Waverly at arm’s length. She winked at her and squeezed her biceps a little. “I know you’ll do the right thing.”

“I hope so,” Waverly whispered, mind already going a thousand miles a minute.

***

Waverly sighed as the sound guy took her mic off of her. Gus was standing and batting them away, insisting she could do it herself and didn’t need their grubby hands on her. Waverly chuckled as Chrissy came up to her and squeezed her shoulder to get her attention. She smiled up at her friend and put her hand over Chrissy’s.

“Hey,” Waverly said softly.

Chrissy squeezed her shoulder again. “I just wanted to say...thank you. For...going through with the show. It really means a lot to me.”

Waverly felt the broken pieces of her heart grate against each other, and her smile faltered. She was going through with the show at the detriment of her and Nicole. Ruining any chance of salvaging...whatever they had.

It’s for the greater good, she kept reminding herself. The best for the...most people.

“You’re welcome,” Waverly said with the barest hint of a smile. “It’s...the least I could do.”

***

Waverly practically insisted that they let Wynonna ride to the airport with her. She didn’t think she would miss Wynonna this much, but seeing her again after so long was making it harder to leave. Wynonna, of course, teased her about it, but she didn’t put up a fight when Waverly asked her to go to the airport with her.

“Alright, baby girl,” Wynonna said playing with the buttons on the top of the limo just to see what they did. A small television screen started to unfold from the top and she watched it in awe as she talked. “What are you going to do about Haught?”

Suddenly Waverly found her hands the most interesting thing in the world. She had spent the whole night, tossing and turning and wondering what the next couple of days might look like. Even after Gus’ talk she was sure Nicole wasn’t an option.

“Maybe...after I fake a huge breakup with this guy...maybe then she’ll be-...I can ask her if she...wants to talk to me again,” Waverly said softly.

Wynonna frowned at her as she pushed the button that folded the tv back up. “I just...don’t get why you don’t march up to her as soon as you get back to that ranch,” she said as her hand fell from the ceiling and onto her lap. “Just go and jump her bones.”

“I can’t just-” Waverly blushed. “I can’t just go and jump her. I’d ruin everything. The show-”

“Who gives a fuck about the show?”

“I do! And not-...it’s not just the show. It’s about Chrissy and all the other people whose job is depending on this show. Not to mention the fact that I would be sued up the ass. They’d take everything. They’d take the Homestead. Maybe even Shorty’s.”

Wynonna tugged on her sleeve. “Shit.”

“Yeah.”

“Listen, Waves,” Wynonna said leaning forward and resting her elbow on her knees. ”I want you to be happy. I want you to do what makes you happy, the consequences be damned. We’ll figure it out.”

Waverly shook her head. “You know I can’t do that,” Waverly whispered, tired of the tears constantly pressing against the back of her eyes. “I won’t do that. To you or Gus.”

“You’re too good, Waves,” Wynonna said.

“Not good enough,” Waverly muttered as she let her forehead fall against the glass of the car window, Purgatory shrinking behind her.

***

One plane ride and long car journey later, Waverly was finally pulling back onto the ranch. She couldn’t help the way her eyes wandered to the barn. And she definitely couldn’t help how her heart ached when she saw Nicole leave the barn and head to the side of it. Probably to chop wood or do something else equally as attractive.

It was still so tempting to just go over to the barn and talk to Nicole. She didn’t know what she would say. She’d probably just stare at Nicole and run away again. Just thinking of what she wanted to say to Nicole, all she was met with was a garbled mess. Lots of “I’m sorry’s” and “please forgive me”.

They pulled up to the front of the house, the entire yard fluttering with activity as they set up for the final rose ceremony in only a few hours. Waverly sighed. At least she only one more day to deal with all this. Then she could go back home or wherever they wanted to sequester her away to until the season aired. She didn’t even care at this point as long as she was away from the constant cameras.

Waverly got out of the car and Jeremy materialized in front of her. He smiled and she forced her own small smile.

“Hey, Jeremy,” Waverly said as she closed the car door behind her, duffle over her shoulder.

“Hey. How was home?” he asked as he escorted her to her room. He noticed her bag and reached for it. “Oh! Let me get that.”

“Oh, Jeremy, it’s fine,” Waverly said, watching as Jeremy struggled to lift it onto his shoulder.

“Nah, I got it,” he gasped as he finally got the strap over himself. “Anyways. Home. How was it?”

“It was good,” she said as she tugged on the edge of her shirt briefly. “Did um...did the letter get delivered?”

“Oh! Yes,” Jeremy said with an excited nod. “All delivered.”

Waverly looked at him, waiting for more of a response that never came. “Did she um...say anything?”

“Nope. Just took it and went back to her little cave,” Jeremy said with a small chuckle.

“Cave?”

“Yeah- well...she was all disheveled looking and the barn was pretty dark. Like she had been hiding in a cave,” Jeremy said. “It’s more of a figure of speech I guess…”

Waverly looked towards the barn, even if she was in the house and couldn’t see it. Nicole had been upset...she wondered if she still was. If there was still that aching in her chest like Waverly felt. Or if she even had felt that at all. Maybe Nicole was still mad about Waverly’s misplaced declaration of love. She shifted uncomfortably at the memory, pulling her hair over her shoulder and playing with the ends.

“Well...thank you, Jeremy,” Waverly said as she got to her room. “What time is hair and makeup coming? Do you know?”

Jeremy looked down at his clipboard briefly. “Mm...you have about a half hour.”

Waverly took the duffle back from him and put it back over her shoulder with ease. “Great,” she said with as little sarcasm as she could. “I’ll just...take a shower I guess. Wash the plane off of me.”

“And I’ll be here!” Jeremy said cheerfully from his usual post just outside her door. “Let me know if you need anything.”

“Thanks, Jeremy,” Waverly said as she closed the door. She dropped her duffle bag to the ground and stopped as she slowly walked over to the shower, hoping the hot water would wash these feelings off of her.

***

The twisting in Waverly’s stomach hadn’t ended from the moment she got out of the shower and sat in the makeup chair. Her eyes kept finding the nearest clock, counting down the minutes until she’d be choosing her fiance for the next...however many months until she could safely break up with him.

If she had to choose a guy, there was no doubt in her mind she would be choosing B-train. He was dumb and a pure jock, but Champ was getting increasingly more annoying as time went on while B-train was...sweet. She regretted getting rid of Perry instead of Champ, but at least it made this choice easier.

Waverly breathed in as they straightened her hair, hands fidgeting on the arm rest as she watched them work in the mirror. Her nerves made her palms sweaty, sickness riding up in her throat as she thought about what was about to happen. It wasn’t kissing B-train. It was the lying. The tricking. The lying about herself.

For the greater good, something she kept telling herself in hopes it would make her feel better. All it did was make her feel sicker.

The makeup person put the finishing touches on her, touching up her lipstick and blush one last time. They smiled at Waverly and Waverly forced a smile back as she stood from the makeup chair. She looked at herself in the mirror. They had dressed her in a long white gown with intricate beading on the front, a cheap callback to a wedding dress she was never going to wear. She smoothed her hand down the front and the makeup person came up behind her, nudging her lightly.

“You look beautiful, don’t be nervous,” they said with a wink before walking out the door.

Waverly was alone again and prayed she could stay that way. But not even a second passed before there was another knock at the door.

“Come in,” she said just loud enough for the other person to hear.

Lucado and Chrissy came into the room, both looking far too happy. Waverly didn’t think she’d ever seen Lucado smile so much in her life.

“Alright,” she said looking Waverly over. “You look lovely, as always. The camera will love you. So, what we’re doing is simple. You’re going to have your interview first, talk about stuff there. Then we’ll set you up and you’ll choose one of the guys. Got it?”

Waverly nodded, nervously running a hand through her fixed hair. Chrissy gave her a look and Waverly just smiled stiffly.

“Nervous?” Chrissy asked.

Waverly scoffed. “No, I’m just about to choose the boy Canada thinks I’m going to marry.”

“And you’ll make a ton of money, and we’ll make a ton of money, and then in a few months you’ll break up with him. Easy as pie,” Lucado said with a single nod. “Jeremy!”

The PA practically burst through the door, eyes wide.

“Escort Ms. Earp to the set please,” Lucado said as she walked out of the room, Chrissy close behind. “And make sure she doesn’t get...lost.”

Lucado gave Waverly a sickly smile that made Waverly want to lunge at her. Instead she crossed her arms over her chest and looked over at Jeremy who seemed torn.

“Are...you okay?” he asked.

“As good as I’m gonna be,” Waverly muttered.

Jeremy took a step closer to her, voice low like he was afraid of getting caught. “You sure?” he asked. “This is kind of a...major life decision here-”

“I’m aware,” Waverly snapped before instantly regretting it. “Sorry. I...am very aware. But my hands are tied I...have to go through with it.”

Jeremy hesitated. “Is it...Nicole?” Waverly looked up at him and he smiled knowingly before he continued. “I may seem oblivious, but I’m not.”

Waverly let out a long breath and shut her eyes for a moment. “Yeah...it’s Nicole. I really let things go to balls with her and now-...well this is my only choice.”

Jeremy looked up at her for a moment like he was holding something back and Waverly frowned at him. “What?”

“Nothing!” Jeremy said, voice high as he shook his head. “I um…” he paused, clearly listening to something in his headset. “-we should go.”

“Okay,” Waverly said taking one last look in the mirror before following Jeremy out to where everything was set up for her interview. Mark was already there, getting the final touches on his makeup as she sat in the chair across from him. He beamed at her and she tried to smile back.

The makeup person stepped back from him and the cameras started to roll. He straightened out his tie and cleared his throat before winking at her.

“Ready?”

“Yeah.”

Mark put on his host voice and began. “So, Waverly, tonight you pick your Prince Charming. How are you feeling?”

Waverly smiled. “Nervous as hell.”

Mark laughed. “That’s understandable. Do you have any regrets from this season?”

“Well,” Waverly sighed, already knowing the answer. Yes. Of course she did. She regretted everything that led to where she was now. Just short of regretting the show in general. “I...do. I have a few regrets,” she continued with a deep breath. She could feel Lucado stiffen behind the monitors. “I acted selfishly, and it hurt people in the process.” Waverly felt her throat tighten, voice breaking. “I thought I was doing the right thing for love but...I didn’t consider everything and I just...wish I could take some things back. You know?”

Mark frowned, nodding sympathetically. “Are you talking about letting certain guys go?”

Waverly thought about Nicole’s face when she said she loved her, when she saw the cameras. The betrayal in her eyes...it broke Waverly’s heart at the memory. “I’m talking about...handling the way I let some people go,” she said, carefully choosing her words. “I think...I said things that people weren’t ready for. I said them in desperation in...selfishness. And I think that’s ultimately what drove us apart. I can’t go back and change things but...I’m going to try and make things right. Some day.”

Mark nodded again. “So then, are you ready? Do you know who you’re going to pick?”

“This...is the hardest decision I’ve ever had to make in my life,” Waverly said, voice cracking as she wiped away a tear. “But I think I’m ready.”

With a smile, Mark nodded. “Good luck tonight. You ready to go out there?”

“I am,” Waverly breathed, hands shaky. “I’m ready.”

The cameras switched off and Waverly couldn’t even wipe away her own tears before the makeup person was blotting the tears from her face and reapplying her makeup. She smiled in thanks before they disappeared again, to wait for her to look less than perfect so they could sweep in.

Jeremy came up to her, his hands flexing and tapping on his trusty clipboard nervously. “Ready?”

Waverly nodded and stood up. He led her outside, past all the crew moving around them and making last minute adjustments. There were sparkling lights all in the trees, flowers everywhere and it was lit just so that the whole back of the house looked like a fairy tale. She swallowed the lump in her throat, begging the tears not to fall as she got to her mark in the middle of a half circle of flowers. The flowers behind her, there were two light setups across from her were where she knew the two guys would be standing.

She licked her lips before remembering the lipstick and took a deep breath. This was it. She wondered again, how long it would be before she could call things off. Or if she would be able to convince the guy she chose to stay as far away from her as possible until she could break up with him. Mostly, she wondered if Nicole would talk to her after all this was over.

Nicole, probably hidden away in her barn right now. Definitely not wondering what Waverly was doing. She was probably cursing her name. Waverly wished and hoped that Nicole would talk to her after this was all over, after her contractual obligations were over.

Maybe Nicole wouldn’t want to be with her anymore but...at least she could have her in her life. Waverly would take that over having to forget Nicole all together.

“Waverly.”

Her eyes darted to Jeremy who’d been standing in front of her for who knew how long before she noticed.

“Hm?”

He fidgeted nervously before reaching into his coat pocket and taking out a small envelope. She could make out her name in a messy scrawl on the front and her heart froze.

“Nicole gave this to me,” he said handing it to her. “She told me to make sure you got it and nobody saw me give it to you.”

“You’re just now giving this to me?” Waverly squeaked.

Jeremy flinched as she tore the envelope from his hand. “I’m sorry! Lucado is so scary, she’s always watching.”

Waverly looked around quickly before ripping open the envelope with shaking hands. A small folded piece of paper fell out and Waverly opened it, heart in her throat as her eyes scanned over the words.

Where you go, I go.

Waverly read it ten more times before a small smile started to bloom. But the nerves in her stomach reached up and took her smile away, anxiety settling in her chest. Did Nicole...what did Nicole want? To go to her? To leave the show to-...Waverly didn’t know what.

“Alright places everyone!”

Waverly didn’t know who shouted it, but it made her blood run cold. She could see beyond the gate to the ranch, the limo that was holding Champ and B-train. In a manner of moments, they would be here, expecting an answer from her. The car moved steadily forward and she took the note and stuffed it in the front of her dress. Jeremy blushed and looked away quickly with a small scream, but Waverly was too busy thinking to notice.

Did Nicole…want her again? Didn’t Nicole know the consequences of Waverly running away right now? Nicole would have to agree to be on camera.

“Places! Cameras roll!”

“Rolling!”

“Cue limos!”

Waverly’s eyes snapped back up to the slowly approaching limos. She hadn’t noticed everyone in their places, cameras on her as the car approached. She must have just looked nervous which she supposed worked great for the show, but really the note was burning against her skin.

The limo pulled up. Champ and B-train got out, both in tuxedos. Champ’s was a normal black one but B-train’s had his favorite hockey team emblazoned across the inside and barely visible on the labels of the jacket.

Waverly felt sick.

She had to choose. She had to choose.

Balls.

B-train. Poor sweet B-train who was dumber than a rock but so attentive.

Champ. A man-child with a sense of entitlement and teeth that were far too bright.

The choice was simple.

Mark came up to her, serious look on his face as he nodded. “Alright, Waverly...are you ready?”

Waverly couldn’t breathe. Suddenly the dress seemed too tight and the lights too bright. The soft sound of the cameras rolling and lights buzzing was too loud. She felt like everything was closing in on her, like she was about to be crushed. Waverly swallowed thickly, panic rising in her chest.

She was sure the note was burning her skin at this point.

“I-...I don’t feel well,” she whispered to Mark, a hint of realization in her own voice. “I’m going to be sick. I have to-...”

She looked back at the guys, B-train looking concerned while Champ looked like his mind was somewhere else.

“I’m sorry.”

She quickly pushed past Mark and the cameras, just needing some space to breath. Her lungs were tight, head light as she walked past the monitors. Chrissy quickly followed her, arm around Waverly’s waist as she led her around to the side of the house where no crew was. Waverly was close to hyperventilating, she could feel it tightening around her lungs and squeezing them. Chrissy went behind Waverly, turning off her mic pack before facing her friend again.

“Breathe, Waves,” Chrissy said, rubbing her arms soothingly.

Waverly nodded, tears sparkling on her eyelashes as she took a shaky breath. She hiccuped as she breathed in, but managed to take a whole breath before she breathed back out. Chrissy looked at her sympathetically, hands still on Waverly’s arms.

She tried to find comfort in her friend’s touch, letting out a shuddery breath as she tried to focus.

“Are you okay?” Chrissy asked.

The question broke the dam and Waverly let out a sob. She covered her mouth with her hand, trying to hold in all her sadness and doubts but they came tumbling out anyways. Chrissy’s arms were around her in an instant as she whispered soothing things in her ear. Waverly let her shoulders shake as tears rolled down her cheeks.

“I-...don’t think I can do this,” Waverly said against Chrissy’s shirt.

“So...don’t,” Chrissy said softly.

Waverly pulled back with a frown, heart fluttering with hope even if she didn’t want it to. “What?”

Chrissy smiled and shrugged. “I want you to be happy, Waves.”

“But...the show. Your job-”

“Do you love Nicole?” Chrissy asked, eyebrow raised.

“More than anything,” Waverly answered easily.

Chrissy shrugged again. “Then it’s easy. Forget these guys, forget the show.”

Waverly could hardly believe her ears. It felt like she was in some kind of wind tunnel. Information and sounds pushed past her at a rate she couldn’t quite match, making it hard to comprehend what was happening.

“I can’t just...forget the show,” Waverly said with a frown when her brain caught up. “You-...Lucado-...I’m not going to force Nicole to be on camera and I can’t be sued.”

Chrissy bit her lip and scrunched her nose. It was her thinking face that Waverly recognized from their years of study groups together. Something passed by her eyes and she nodded.

“Waverly, Nicole loves you too,” she whispered. “I can tell. I’m kinda psychic, remember?”

Waverly managed a small laugh. “Just because you predicted the results of a football game one time-”

“I can tell that she loves you,” Chrissy said, shaking Waverly a little bit. “And you love her. True love conquers all. Remember?”

Waverly rolled her eyes. “This is real life, not a fairy tale.”

Chrissy frowned. “Reality tv broke you, Waves.”

Waverly groaned and rested her head on her friend’s shoulder as tears continued to leak down her face. The makeup person would have a heart attack if they could see her now. She took a deep breath and just tried to...think. She tried to remember what it was like to be in Nicole’s arms. To kiss her. To love her.

“Waves, it’s your choice,” Chrissy said, squeezing her tight. “But don’t worry about me. Okay? I’ll figure it out. You’ve spent your whole life trying to please other people. Maybe it’s...time you do something for yourself.”

Waverly pulled away and wiped some tears from her cheek. Chrissy was right. And the idea of living without Nicole...of not even trying...that killed her more than anything.

“I don’t...even know what to do I-” Waverly paused, gears clicking in her brain. A slow smile crawled over her features and suddenly the note tucked into her dress felt that much heavier. “I ...know what to do... can you just-...tell Nicole I’m waiting for her. She’ll know where I am.”

Chrissy squealed and pulled Waverly into a hug, squeezing her tight. “I’m so happy for you.”

“Don’t be happy yet, we don’t know what she’s going to say,” Waverly said with a watery chuckle. “Oh and...do you have a pocket knife I can borrow?”

***

This week on The Bachelorette Canada!

It’s the heart wrenching season finale-

Waverly is pacing on the balcony in her white dress. We cut to her on camera interview. “This is the hardest decision of my life.”

Cut to a small montage of Waverly’s happy moments with Champ and B-train.

We then see a close up of Waverly as the limo pulls up. Panic apparent on her face. Dramatic music plays. We see the tears starting in her eyes and she just shakes her head.

“I’m sorry,” she says before walking off camera. It cuts to close ups of Champ and B-train, standing there confused. We see a long shot of Waverly walking away, the camera shaky.

This week on the exciting season finale of the Bachelorette Canada!

***

Waverly was sitting on the edge of the cliff watching the stream below her when she heard hooves approaching. Her heart leapt into her throat and she quickly stood up, smoothing her dress with her hand. When she saw Whiskey’s face just barely peeking over the ridge, a rider astride her, white Stetson standing out among the background, Waverly felt her breath catch.

What if this was a mistake? What if she misread Nicole’s letter?

But seeing Nicole look at her as she approached, Waverly felt the warm twisting in her stomach that wasn’t entirely unpleasant. Some of the ache in her heart got deeper from the closeness to Nicole and she just wanted to touch her. But she clasped her hands together and fiddled with the pocket knife in her hand.

Waverly managed to pull her eyes away from Nicole to look at the tree next to her. All the initials carved into it, scarring the bark and discoloring it.

She turned back to Nicole just as she got off the horse. They looked at each other for a moment and Nicole tipped her hat at Waverly. She swooned, stomach feeling sick as Nicole walked closer slowly, thumbs hooked into the loops of her jeans.

“Waverly,” Nicole breathed.

It felt like something kick started Waverly’s heart, kicking up the dust that had settled there since her blow up with Nicole.

“Nicole,” Waverly said, a small watery laugh filling the silence between them.

Nicole stood in front of her, the tips of their shoes almost touching as they just looked at each other. There were bags under Nicole’s eyes and Waverly wanted to reach up and touch her cheek but dug her nails into her own palm instead.

“I got your letter,” Nicole said, her voice rough, grating along Waverly’s spine in a delicious way.

“I got yours,” Waverly said with a small smile that faded just as soon as it was there.

All the words she wanted to say felt like they were dying on the tip of her tongue with Nicole there in front of her. The speech she had rehearsed in her mind while waiting for her just disappeared like smoke. Waverly licked her lips and looked down at her hands before taking a deep breath, gathering her courage.

Suddenly she looked up and spoke. “Nicole, I just-”

“Waverly, I-”

They talked at the same time, both stopping abruptly. Nervous smiles lit up their lips and Waverly whispered. “Can I start?”

Nicole tilted her head like she was thinking but finally just nodded gently.

Waverly took another deep breath and tucked some hair behind her ear. “I just want to apologize...first. I...should have told you about Lucado finding out about us. I shouldn’t have...jumped you.” Waverly blushed deeply and looked away. “I don’t regret...the results. But I regret the circumstances surrounding it.”

She flashed back to that night and shifted, blushing impossibly deep as she chanced a glance up at Nicole who had a blush on her own cheeks.

“And I just-”

Waverly took a deep breath as she continued. “I’ve never felt about...anyone, the way I feel about you. I went into this whole thing thinking the show was...a scam. I thought it was impossible to fall in love with someone in six weeks but...here we are.”

She let out a soft laugh, tears in her eyes as she looked up at Nicole.

“I love you,” Waverly said softly. “I shouldn’t have-...I don’t want those words to be diminished because I said them at an awful time-”

“Waverly,” Nicole said softly, reaching forward and pushing some of Waverly’s hair behind her ear. She leaned into the touch, her body warming at the feeling. “I love you too.”

“You do?” Waverly breathed, her heart taking flight in her chest.

Nicole nodded. “I was...too shocked to say it before-”

“I understand,” Waverly said. “It was shit timing-”

Nicole shook her head and framed Waverly’s face with her hands, cutting off her words. Waverly couldn’t help but smile. Feeling Nicole’s strong, gentle, and calloused hands against her skin again made Waverly weak in the knees.

“What I wanted to say was...that I’m sorry I freaked out,” Nicole said. “I was just so shocked and trying to process things but... I’ll be on the show, Waverly.”

Waverly looked up at her, shocked. “But-”

Nicole shook her head. “I’ll be on the show. I don’t care. I’ll...I’ll do a dance or say stupid shit. I don’t care as long as I get to be with you.”

Waverly was sure her heart exploded with happiness in that moment.

“Nicole,” Waverly started, “This experience...was so great. I got to do so many things I’d never done before, and it was amazing. But my one...major regret...is that I didn’t get to do any of those things with you. I don’t want to miss out on any more adventures with you. Even if it’s just sitting on the couch eating pudding in our pajamas.”

Nicole chuckled and pressed their foreheads together, tears shining on her eyelashes. “That sounds like everything I’ve ever wanted.”

“Can I kiss you?” Waverly whispered, eyes darting down to Nicole’s lips. Nicole didn’t answer, choosing instead to lean forward and connect their lips.

It felt like taking her first breath after nearly drowning. Waverly was sure a kiss had never felt as amazing as this one. Her skin erupted in goosebumps and she poured every ounce of emotion that she could into the kiss. Her heart soared and it was over too soon, even if her starving lungs burned thankfully.

She kept her eyes shut, just living in the moment and breathing Nicole in.

“I love you,” Waverly said, eyes fluttering open.

“I love you too, Waverly,” Nicole said, brushing their noses together. Waverly licked her lips nervously and held up the closed pocket knife between them. Nicole pulled away for a moment just to look down on it before looking back up at Waverly with an amused smile.

“Are you threatening me?” Nicole teased.

Waverly rolled her eyes and slapped her hand to Nicole’s chest lightly. Her fingers curled into the soft fabric of Nicole’s flannel, fingers twisting in the fabric.

“No,” she whispered. “I just thought…maybe if you...you’re it for me, Nicole. I want you to be my everything, forever and always. And I would be honored if...we could put our initials on the tree.”

Nicole smiled so brightly that Waverly was sure she went blind for a moment. She kissed Waverly hard, all the air leaving her lungs as her free hand tangled in the short hairs beneath Nicole’s hat.

“I wouldn’t want it any other way,” Nicole said, pecking Waverly’s lips over and over until they were both giggling like fools. Nicole plucked the knife from Waverly’s fingers and pulled her closer to the tree. Waverly faced it, Nicole holding her from behind with her face pressed into Waverly’s shoulder. She kissed along the skin there until Waverly giggled.

“You’re distracting me.”

“Sorry,” Nicole whispered, placing a lingering kiss just below Waverly’s ear that made her sigh. “You just look so beautiful.”

Waverly leaned back and tilted her head to kiss the underside of Nicole’s jaw as she looked at the tree trunk.

“Okay,” Waverly said, trying to focus. “Where should we do it?”

Nicole pointed at a spot right next to her grandparents and handed Waverly the knife. “My grandpa and grandma got married after their first date and were in love until the day they died,” Nicole whispered. “I know we’ll be like them.”

Waverly felt her stomach flip at the sentiment. “I wish I could’ve met them.”

“Me too, baby,” Nicole said, kissing her cheek. “Now put your name there.”

Waverly nodded, lifting the knife and carefully carving the ‘W’ into it. She held the knife in her palm and Nicole took it from her, leaning forward a little bit to add ‘+ N’.

“It’s perfect,” Nicole whispered, using Waverly’s hips to turn her around so they were facing each other again. “You’re perfect.”

Waverly blushed and shook her head. “We’re perfect.”

Nicole smiled and pressed Waverly lightly against the tree, one hand next to her head and the other gripping her hip.

“I don’t think I’ll ever get over saying ‘I love you’,” Nicole said as Waverly brushed her fingers along the brim of her hat.

“Neither will I,” Waverly admitted as she pulled her bottom lip between her teeth.

“Marry me,” Nicole whispered suddenly.

Waverly’s heart stopped. “What?”

“Marry me, Waverly Earp,” Nicole said, “make me the happiest person alive.”

“Of course,” Waverly said, fresh tears springing to her eyes as she smiled. “There’s nothing I want more.”

“Really?”

“Really.”

Their lips molded together again, Waverly weaving her hands through red hair and she was sure, in that moment, she had never been happier.

***

Next week on The Bachelorette Canada: The Final Rose!

Mark is sitting in a plush looking chair, all the guys from day one and beyond sitting up behind him in their own chairs.

“This week, we’ll be talking to the guys of The Bachelorette Canada about their time in the house. About love, loss, and jealousy. And later, we’ll be bringing out our own Bachelorette Waverly and talking about how she found her one true love.” Mark smiles brightly, face aglow with a new spray tan. “This is going to be an episode you won’t want to miss of The Final Rose!”

#Wynonna Earp #wayhaught #wayhaught fanfic #wynonna earp fanfiction #my shit #why'd you come in here

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