This is my side blog for my chaotic x reader fics. I used to only do fem!reader x character but I’ve branched out to platonic m!characters as well
Mostly focused on the Cate Blanchett cinematic universe but I'm branching out into the holy trinity (Blanchett, Bullock, and Paulson)
My requests are almost always open, I’m just really slow to getting to them. I won't do explicit NSFW, but if there's anything else you'd like to check if I'll write, just ask!
heey :) haven't heard from you in a while, hope everything's good. i miss reading your stories, hope you come back soon,i love everything abt the cate blanchett universe <3
Hi! :)
Don’t worry, I’m alright! I’ve just been in an AWFUL writing slump 😔 I love starting stories but I cannot finish them lol. But don’t worry, I’ll definitely be back eventually
(Also thanks so much for checking in that’s so sweet :)))) <3)
Summary: In a slightly different universe, Ms. Mead dies after being shot. Wilhemina suffers the loss of her friend, and you, her assistant, are the only person she trusts to be by her side.
Warnings/Notes: Death and blood mentions! I hate it when people act like Wilhemina is this unemotional monster she's actually super complex and is capable of love <3
Word Count: 3311
It wasn’t the rarest thing to hear gunshots ring through Outpost 3. Most of the time foolish Grays were eliminated on the surface by the hand of Ms. Mead, but if there was a real ruckus she saw no problem in removing them down below. So when the boom sounded from the decontamination room, you didn’t even look up.
You were in the midst of remaking Ms. Venable’s bed while the woman in question sat by the fireplace and read some reports. If a second, and then a third gunshot hadn’t followed, you would’ve stayed there.
But something piqued Wilhemina’s interest. She glanced your way before leaving the room. You followed, staying two steps behind each harrowing clack of the cane.
And the only thing louder than the rhythmic smacks down the hall, was Wilhemina’s gasp upon arrival.
Mead was a few steps down the hallway. Her short body sat slumped against the wall, one hand over her side where blood was pouring from an open wound.
One of the other armed women ran past the two of you, weapon raised to stop whoever had done this. Distant gunshots rang. Wilhemina stared down at her dying friend. Her grip on her cane was so tight her fingers had lost all color. And then, it released. She dropped the cane and sank down beside Mead.
It was rare to see any emotion on Ms. Venable’s face, especially anything drastic like this. On the rare occasion she was happy, the slightest smile tugged at her lips, and sometimes her dark eyes lit in a way that frightened you. You had seen her angry more often than that. That was her reaction to most things: anger and contempt.
Once, you saw the slightest hurt expression flicker over her face at dinner after a cruel comment from one of the Purples, but it was gone before you could say anything.
But now, it was clear as day.
Her mouth was drawn in an open mouthed frown, bottom lip slightly trembling. She wrinkled her nose upon getting blood on her dress, but her eyes looked genuinely distraught for somebody always so cold and controlled. Ms. Wilhelmina Venable was truly upset.
“Get help.” She said without looking up, pressing down against Ms. Mead’s wound to try and stop the bleeding.
With one glance at the shorter woman, you knew any help would be too late. She had been bleeding out for too long and was already turning a ghostly pale. Perhaps Wilhemina just wanted to be alone while her friend passed. That was probably it. Letting you see her in any state of vulnerability was mortifying and she would probably kill you for it.
You left obediently and made your way to the medical office. As much as you hated to admit it, you were worried. Not for Ms. Mead, you never cared for her. But for the monster herself, Wilhemina Venable.
She was more tolerant of you than the other grays to the point she made you her personal servant. It meant more work, but more respect from her. And overtime you’d come to not hate her as much as everybody else did. Deep down she was human. At least, she used to be. Somewhere in there.
And Ms. Mead was the only person you’d ever seen her smile at. Maybe it was for selfish reasons, but it was real. They cared for each other in some way.
And now she was gone.
You grabbed the nurse and the two of you made your way back to the scene. Before you made it fully, you ran into Wilhemina.
Her dark dress was dyed darker by blood, the same blood which now colored her fingertips. Her face was clean and clear, except for the slightest red speck by her lip. Her eyes were dark, and though not teary, they were unusually empty.
“She’s gone.” Her voice was utterly void of emotion. She looked from you to the nurse. “Get rid of the body, we do not need radioactive vermin roaming the halls.”
“The same way we dispose of the others?” The nurse seemed surprised. Ms. Mead was not a misbehaving Gray or foolish Purple. She was one of them.
Wilhemina’s shoulders tensed. “Yes.” She bit out before leaving.
You waited until she was out of earshot before approaching the body with the nurse. The two of you exchanged a glance. You took a few buttons from Mead’s jacket and then sped off to find Wilhemina.
The redhead in question had returned to her room in unusual silence. By the time you found her she was in the connecting bathroom, hands submerged in murky red water. Her shoulders tensed upon your footsteps and she met your gaze in the mirror with a blank, hollow stare.
“Let me,” you approached, reaching for her arm. The second your fingers made contact she curled away like your touch burned.
“Get away,” Wilhelmina snarled. Angry. Hurt.
Normally you would've obeyed. You never ignored her orders. If she said to get away, you would wait in the hallway until she cracked the door open. But this time, you stayed still.
Her mouth opened to snap again, but nothing came out. She stared at you with that empty look. Then, slowly, her upper body loosened and her grip on her cane slipped. The staff fell to the floor with a clatter.
You bent to reach for the cane but she touched your shoulder instead, now leaning back against the sink.
“Get rid of this,” Wilhemina rasped, gesturing to the bloody dress that hung from her thin frame. It was clinging tighter to her body, the fabric splattered with thick, darkening red.
You obeyed this time. Carefully, you unzipped the back of her dress. You had done this plenty of times before. The curvature of her spine glistened with sweat in the dim bathroom light, tenser than usual. It hitched and groaned as she moved according to your touch. The sight didn’t scare you anymore.
Once she had been stripped to the bare minimum you rested your hand on her side. “Would you like a bath?”
She shook her head.
“Ms. Ven–Wilhemina,” you grabbed her hand, more insistently this time. “Let me draw you a bath. Please.”
For a split second her fingers curled around yours. Then they loosened, limp… somehow even more frightening. She bit down hard on her bottom lip and closed her eyes. “I do not want to bathe in her blood, Y/N.”
“You could wash off first.” You squeezed her hand in foolish hopes she would return the squeeze. She didn’t. “But a warm bath will help you relax.” Not to mention ease her back which you knew would be aching from her time without the cane. She hadn’t always needed it, but as time went on and she grew older, just crossing the room without it would result in hours of pain.
Wilhelmina didn’t reply. Her eyes were still closed, her breathing even and slow. It was almost as if she was in sort of a trance. And then, finally, she nodded. “Alright.”
So she washed off while you filled the tub. She scrubbed where Mead’s blood had touched until her own skin was raw and red. Their blood would have mixed if you didn’t stop her and guide her towards the warm bath instead.
She removed her bra and underwear before sinking into the warm water. Silently. Always silent.
Her first words were 5 minutes later; simple, quiet: “I want wine.”
Who were you to deny her? You left and grabbed a bottle from her stash, as well as her fancy glass. Everything of hers was claimed. If it wasn’t her glass, she wouldn’t drink from it. Same for utensils, washcloths, blankets, just about anything you could think of.
But that didn’t stop you from grabbing your robe from your room on the way back. Wilhelmina herself lacked a robe. Yours would have to do.
When you came back you paused in the doorway.
She was still in the tub, back towards you. The tight, crooked curve of her spine had softened ever so slightly in the warmth. You had expected her to be relaxing. Instead, she was curled up.
The first few splashes you heard could’ve been the water, but once you heard her shaky gasp, you realized they were tears. Ms. Venable was crying.
The Purples often made jokes about how she was an emotionless sadist. Her only pleasure came from the harm and pain of others. While that may be true, and you’ve seen her aroused responses after a night of torturing, she wasn’t an empty monster. They bet she could never cry. That she was born like this; broken from birth. But they were wrong.
She was crying. Sobbing, even. Quiet, muffled sobs, teeth biting into the back of her hand to muffle what she could.
When you took your spot beside the tub she tried to stop. She could only manage one deep breath before everything came out in a low, wheezing, devastated cry.
You didn’t even roll your sleeves up before you wrapped your arms around her. You embraced her from behind, just above her spine. And she didn’t fight. She simply turned her head beneath your hand and cried into your shoulder.
Wilhemina didn’t cry for long. Within a maximum of 8 minutes spent crying, she reigned herself back in and resumed this strange, silent state. You weren’t the biggest fan of that either. Rather than letting herself feel her emotions and grief she was shutting down.
“Ms. Venable.” You murmured. You called her Wilhemina once tonight and although she didn’t reply you didn’t want to push it again. “The water is getting cold.”
“It is.” She replied blankly. She slowly turned her head to look at you, dark eyes catching the smear of makeup on your top. From her. She had cried on you. The reality was slowly settling in for Wilhemina. Instead of fighting or fleeing, she simply wiped her face. She held out her hand and you pulled her to her feet.
You wrapped the woman up in a towel and sat her down upon the chair in the bathroom. Once her skin was dry enough you slipped your robe over her shoulders. She was too far in another mental space to even notice, thankfully.
After that you dried her hair as best as you could and put it up in a bun while she sipped her wine. Wilhemina’s long hair had been a sign of pride growing up, proving that despite her back issues, she was still a healthy person who could do normal things. Her body wasn’t all that fucked up.
So she rarely cuts it. But she hated having it touch her neck. If it weren’t for your insistence that having her hair up 24/7 could damage it, she would never take it down.
A loose bun, like it was in now, was her compromise so you would shut up about it. She had nobody to appear tight and composed for anyway.
“Wash my face.” Her voice was cold. As cold as she could manage.
“Okay.”
With a warm cloth in hand, you cleaned her face up. Most of the blood had been removed earlier but the tear stains remained as painful reminders. You washed them off as gently as you could, careful not to leave red marks behind on her cheeks. Once satisfied, you stepped back.
You turned to leave when she grabbed your wrist.
“You will not speak of this to anyone else.” Wilhelmina warned. “Should you even whisper it, I will have you tortured far more than those that killed–,” her lips tightened and she swallowed, unable to say the name. “You will think of radiation sickness as a kindness you will not recieve. It will be done by my hand. Do you understand me?”
“Yes…” you murmured softly. “Yes, I understand.”
“...I know.” Wilhelmina nodded slowly. “You do. Too well.”
You could only give her a look. Finally, you cleared your throat. “Do you want to go to bed?”
“I think that would be… wise.” She loosened her grip on your wrist, leaving half-moon indents upon your skin. “I don’t think I’m capable of working in this state. Do not agree with me.”
With that, she retrieved her cane and hobbled towards her bed. The hot bath eased the worst of the pain but all wasn’t back to normal. Not yet.
You followed. Luckily, you had finished remaking the bed earlier so she didn’t have to wait. She dropped the robe and you helped her change. Then she climbed into bed.
Wilhemina laid on her side, facing away from you. This was your usual sign to leave. You started for the door when you heard the softest command: “Stay.”
You didn’t ask. You just quietly sat down in the chair beside her bed. Wilhemina didn’t have to see you to know you were there. As long as she wasn’t going to be alone…
Once she drifted off, you returned to your bedroom. Only once had you ever fallen asleep in her room and she nearly sent you outside without a hazmat suit because of it. Just like everyone else, she was vulnerable when sleeping. Rather because you could easily hurt her, or for something worse, she didn’t ever want you to see. But you weren’t too upset. It had been a very long night and you were exhausted. You were practically wobbling by the time you made it to your bed. Too tired to bother with changing, you passed out.
Your sleep was broken within a few hours. Harsh banging sounded by your door, a cane hitting the metal. You gulped, slipping out of bed.
Opening the door to reveal Wilhemina wasn’t the most surprising thing. It was how quickly she slapped you hard across the face. Heat bloomed from your cheek and you covered it with a soft yelp.
“I asked you to stay.” The woman growled. She latched onto your shoulder, nearly hard enough to draw blood. “And you left.”
You stared up at her, baffled. “I did stay—“
“No, you did not. When I woke up you were gone! And I asked you to stay.” Wilhemina was growing increasingly distressed, like whatever point she was trying to put across you just weren’t getting. “I didn’t know where you went.”
“Where else would I go besides my room?”
“I don’t know!” She exclaimed angrily. “That’s not the point!” Her hand raised and you braced for another hit that never came. Instead, her fingers slowly nudged your hand away from your red cheek. You watched with wary, wide eyes and lowered your hand. The worst of the pain had faded but the red mark would linger.
“I thought something had happened to you…” Wilhemina finally said, both firm yet unusually quiet. She pressed her thumb into the red until it left a white print. “I woke up from a—I woke up, and you were gone.” Her voice softened ever so slightly.
“You told me to never watch you sleep.” You finally managed to say, still unnerved by the gentle caressing of your cheek.
Wilhemina’s eyes darkened, then she sighed. “Tonight was different.” A long pause. “You said I shouldn’t be alone.”
She had you there. “I did say that.” You admitted. “I didn’t know it extended into sleeping.”
“It did.”
“You have to tell me that next time. I can’t read your mind. I’ve tried, it’s really hard,” you smiled, trying to cheer her up. The most you’d ever gotten out of her was a quiet, muffled chuckle once or twice.
And tonight, you got the faintest smile. It was gone too quickly but you memorized the look in an instant.
“Do not read my mind.” Wilhemina flicked your cheek, not hard enough to hurt. Then she lowered her hand to your shoulder and grimaced. “I… have come to value you as an assistant.” Her expression so contorted it was as if the words were causing her pain. “I know the surface will never be as it once was, but I assumed we were safe down here. Myself, Ms. Mead…”
The hurt in her eyes tugged at your heart. You weren’t certain if her grief would carry into the following day, but it did. She really did care, deep down. You slowly laid your hand over hers.
“I’m going to take extra security measures.” Wilhemina regained her control after a breath. “The Purples and Grays, they’re not important like we are.”
“We…?”
“Yes, Y/N. You and I.” She nodded. “You will be taking over some of Ms. Mead’s responsibilities, those which you can. But the selfish part of me wants you to remain my assistant as well.”
She was promoting you, sort of. As a Gray, you were told there was nothing beyond this. You were worthless trash and you were to be treated that way until the end.
But the person you had least expected to ever have a change of heart was altering the rules, for you. She thought you were important. Maybe she even cared. You liked to think she did.
“I think I can do both.” You smiled softly at her. “If you’ll let me.”
Wilhemina’s lip twitched. She had been expecting you to say that but she wanted to hear it for herself. With a curt nod, she squeezed your shoulder. “I would tolerate that. But you will have to learn to carry a weapon. A repeat of tonight will never happen again. If it comes down to us versus the others, they will lie bleeding and we will feast for weeks.”
You could’ve gone without that. But you nodded anyway. “Uh, got it.”
She smiled again. Slightly. Barely. “Now, if I ask you to stay, what will you do this time?” Her cane methodically hit the floor twice, a little too close to your foot for comfort. It was now that it was so close that you noticed the little crack running up the side. You would have to fix that.
“Stay until morning.” You answered softly.
“Good.” Wilhemina let go of you and stepped back. “Come on, then. We’re running out of time to sleep.”
She started to leave, expecting you to follow, when you remembered something.
“Wait!” You grabbed her arm. She whirled to face you, nobody ever grabbed her. But when you slipped something beneath her fingers and into her palm, her expression changed.
The buttons you nabbed from Ms. Mead’s jacket. 3 of them: round, intricate, and familiar. The deceased woman often spent time fidgeting with her buttons when passing time, they were covered with her fingerprints.
Wilhemina slowly turned her hand over and opened it to observe the buttons. What suspicions she had from their touch was confirmed by view. Her brows furrowed in and she closed her eyes for a moment as that stubborn grief rose over her like a wave.
When it began to fade, she opened her eyes and wiped beneath them. Then she cleared her throat. “What are these?” She asked, though she knew damn well what they were.
“I took them from Ms. Mead’s jacket,” you murmured. “I just thought you might like to have something to remember her by.”
Wilhemina was silent. She maneuvered the buttons around her palm, feeling each and every side of them as though a secret combination could bring the other woman back. When nothing happened she tucked the buttons into the pocket of her own jacket she had thrown on.
“Thank you.” Her voice was nothing more than a whisper. Then, she lifted and lowered her cane once more. She continued towards her room without a word and you followed right behind. She wasn’t going to lose you anytime soon, not if you could help it.
Warnings/Notes: Sickness/medication/vomiting, normal sickfic stuff. This is Coven Cordelia because supremes can't get sick and coven Delia is a baby
Word Count: 2835
How long had it been since anyone had seen Cordelia?
She made an appearance at breakfast, still in her white robe with minimal makeup, a soft beauty that would never be marred. But after that she vanished to her office, busying herself with piles of paperwork and anything else to keep her out of sight.
This wasn’t an abnormal occurrence, sometimes she focused too hard on her work that she forgot to eat or even sleep. But she had been getting better at that, managing to come down for dinner and taking a break to let her eyes rest. Tonight was different. She skipped dinner so you brought some up and were told to leave it at the door. That was that.
Now, a few hours past dinner, you were growing increasingly worried. Nobody had actually seen Cordelia’s face in hours. She probably didn’t even eat the food you brought.
“I just think one of us should go check on her,” you said, laying down the card that Zoe asked you for. “I’m worried.”
“So am I,” Zoe agreed. “Queenie, do you have any 3’s?”
The other girl shook her head. “Go fish—and I agree. Usually she at least tries to let us know she’s alive. For all we know she could be rotting up there at her desk.”
“Don’t say that.” Zoe protested.
Madison huffed. “Why not? It’s a valid point. If Cordy wants to work herself to the bone, literally, why should we intervene? I mean there’s probably nothing left of her at this point.”
“You’re disgusting. Don’t you care about her? At all?” You glared across the table at the blonde.
“If you care so much why don’t you go coddle her and spoon feed her soup?”
“You—“
A sudden noise from the hallway cut you off. Footsteps, slowly coming from Cordelia’s office. Though they didn’t sound like her usual pattern. These were more scattered and heavy, as if walking was a chore.
But when Cordelia rounded the corner, you immediately saw why.
She was walking slowly, each foot lifting weighed down by invisible chains. Instead of her usual shoes she had on soft socks and a limp sweater covered most of her body that her skirt didn’t. Her hair drooped like a wilted flower, and so did her eyes which sank so low deep shadows pooled beneath them. Everything about her was feverish and pale.
“Jesus.” Madison muttered, all four of you watching wide wide eyes as Cordelia stumbled to the counter.
Nobody said a word. Nobody knew what to say. What do you say to a sick headmistress who will certainly not happily let you in? Especially when she looks like she’s about to crumple to the floor.
Finally, in good-old-Madison-fashion, the blonde spoke. “How the fuck are you alive?”
Cordelia bristled. “Expected to find me dead?” She replied in the bitter tone reserved only for Madison. It wasn’t often she was cranky, but if she was, Madison only made it worse.
“No offense, Cordelia, but you look like you are.” Queenie agreed worriedly. Everyone else nodded.
“I’m fine, girls. Just a little under the weather.” Her voice took on a sickly rasp as she reached for the kettle with trembling hands. She managed to get it down off the shelf and was mid-reach for the teacup when Madison spoke again.
“Should you even be out of bed? You can’t even hold that thing up.” For once there was genuine care in her words, but so disguised by snark that Cordelia missed it completely.
The headmistress tensed her shoulders and lowered her head. She took one deep breath, hiding her face. “I don’t feel well,” her voice was even hoarser now; more of a plea than anything. “And I would appreciate it if you all let me make my tea without commentary.”
That shut them all up. Zoe kicked Madison under the table and Queenie shuffled her cards nervously.
You abandoned the game, crossing the kitchen to grab Cordelia’s usual, sturdy mug for her. She was holding onto the counter so tightly you worried she’d collapse without it. The way she hid her face under her hair told you she was silently crying, but you didn’t mention it. “Let me,” you murmured as you gently pried the kettle from her hands.
Cordelia didn’t have it in her to fight, she just started to cry harder. It broke your heart. She was so exhausted and everything ached, she could barely stop herself from coming completely undone and falling into your arms.
“You should sit down,” you told Cordelia softly once you got the milk to start warming up. She was sort of keeled over, pressing her forehead against the cool counter for relief. You dragged your chair over beside the cabinets.
Cordelia sank down with a soft moan. “I’m so sorry,” she wiped her face, now just laying her head on the counter. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”
“You don’t feel good, nothing to apologize for.” Queenie shook her head. “If anyone should apologize it’s Madison.”
The girl scowled. “Why should I apologize for Cordy having a cold?”
“You should apologize for making her cry.” You replied coldly.
Before Madison could say anything, Cordelia weakly lifted her head to shake it. “It’s.. it’s not Madison.” For once. “I just feel so awful and I don’t want you girls to fuss over me.”
A quick silence fell over the group, before everybody exploded at once.
“You take care of us, it’s our turn now.”
“Are you kidding? You think we’re just gonna let you walk away like this?”
“Genuinely I think you might die if you stand up.”
The chatter and protests would be heartwarming to Cordelia any other day, she adored her girls and to hear that they adored her made her want to cry, but now that her ears were ringing it all faded to an excruciating buzz.
You were the only one that noticed her shoulders hunching in. She pressed her forehead against the counter and covered her ears, trying to curl up into such a tiny ball she could just vanish. Any other day she might transmute herself out of there. Today she was too weak to lift her head.
“Guys, stop it.” You broke the argument, the others stunned to see you raise your voice. “Can’t you see this isn’t helping?”
Nobody spoke a word after that. Zoe started tending to Cordelia’s tea since the milk was ready; Queenie went to go find Misty who was probably in the greenhouse, hoping to make some sort of medicine; Madison stood silently nearby and watched, her face drawn with judgment but deep down she was worried; and you crouched by Cordelia, just rubbing her back.
“Here,” Zoe brought the tea over and set it on the counter. “I’m going to go see if Queenie needs help. Madison, come with me.”
“But—“
“The last thing Cordelia needs to hear is your voice.”
Madison grumbled unhappily but followed the other girl out of the kitchen. You chuckled and Cordelia tried her best to smile.
Once they were gone she reached for the teacup but was so shaky the liquid sploshed over the rim and onto her hands. She closed her eyes. Her head sank onto the counter with a defeated whine. She felt awful.
You cleaned her hands with some paper towels and then picked the cup up for her. “Here, I’ve got it,” you murmured, pressing the rim against her lips.
Cordelia took a hesitant sip. When the tea didn’t come right back up, or hurt her rough throat, she took a few more. Then she turned her head and lowered it back onto the counter like holding it up was too much of an effort. “…I’m sorry, Y/N.”
“You have no reason to be,” you rubbed her arm gently. “Well, actually, I am sort of pissed you didn’t tell us earlier. We could’ve gotten you in bed with some medicine a while ago.”
“Didn’t want to worry you.” She curled her arm around her head and sniffled. “Thought it would pass…”
“Now we’re certainly worried.” Your tone was more teasing than scolding, she couldn’t handle a real scolding. “You’re lucky you could make it out of your office. These things come fast and hit harder.”
“Tell me about it,” Cordelia whimpered, though her lips twitched in the faintest smile. “I’m… too hot, but I’m freezing and everything’s spinning… I can barely open my eyes.”
You sighed, brushing her forehead. “You’re burning up.” You moved to get a wash cloth, walking hard so Cordelia would know you were still there.
“Am I really?” Cordelia sounded almost bewildered. “I can’t… remember the last time I was. I must’ve been just a girl… I can usually… make a potion to get over it if I catch it in time.”
“Really?”
“If my nose starts running, I run—,” Cordelia coughed. You rubbed her back, draping the cold cloth over her forehead. “—to the greenhouse… A few strong herbs mashed together usually fix it. It’s too late now…”
“I’m sure Misty will be able to figure something out that will help you now,” you assured her softly. “Though you might have to drink some of her mud.”
Cordelia gagged, covering her mouth. “I don’t know if I can… It’s… I don’t expect it to go down well.” She lifted a hand blindly and pressed the cloth harder against her skin. “Or at all…”
You chuckled softly. “Let’s hope she blends it well.”
“Not helping…” Cordelia moved her hand, eyes still covered. She gently slapped your arm before grabbing your wrist. “Just… stay with me. Please.”
“I’m not going anywhere.”
“Thank you…”
Soon, the 3 girls, along with Misty returned from the greenhouse. In Misty’s hands was a bottle of something dark and green and foul.
Cordelia, who had half fallen asleep, head on the counter, groaned. “Oh, what is that?” She covered her nose and mouth.
“I think it’ll fix you right up, Miss Delia.” Misty grinned, though her eyes were dark with worry. “‘ts a little bit of everything. Potent enough to kill a wildcat, and any virus.”
“Potent enough to kill all of us.” Madison muttered.
“Nuh-uh, I’ve drank this stuff plenty of times growin’ up. My ma taught me the recipe.” Misty shook her head. “Whatever’s hurtin’ you, Cordelia, it’ll shrivel up and die in ‘n hour.”
Cordelia managed to open her eyes. She blinked blearily at the crowd of girls, and then at the potion. Her face paled even more at the sight of it. “I…” she quickly glanced at you, then at Misty. “I suppose… it won’t hurt.”
The bottle was light enough Cordelia could hold it. That also meant, unfortunately, it was light enough to shatter when Cordelia’s stomach couldn’t.
The headmistress barely made it to the sink before the thick green liquid came right back up, followed by various other stomach contents. Zoe held her hair while you practically held her up, arms around her waist. She was soaked in sweat and shaking hard enough she was almost slippery.
“Disgusting.” Madison huffed.
“I’m sorry,” Misty murmured guiltily. “I thought it would help.”
“It would’ve…” Cordelia rasped, voice thick with spit and lingering nausea. Her whole body shuddered and she slumped further against the cabinets, only being stopped by your arms. “I just… can’t keep much down.”
“Maybe it’ll work anyway.” Madison huffed.
Queenie shook her head. “Maybe. But I think we should get her to bed. She can’t even stand and some rest will help.”
Cordelia’s head lolled weakly against your chest. You grabbed her face and gently wiped her mouth. Then, you and the other girls managed to half-carry her up the stairs.
Cordelia wasn’t particularly tall or heavy, but lugging her up was like lugging the dead body of a 6’3 man. It took all five of you to do it. Poor Cordelia could only moan or whine whenever something was pulled too hard.
Finally, you all managed to lower her onto her bed. You stripped the blankets and placed a bucket on either side of the bed.
“Delia?” You murmured, sitting beside her and tucking her hair out of her face. “You still with us?”
“Mm… yes,” Cordelia whimpered, barely. Her eyes opened briefly before closing. “What is that…?”
Queenie was holding a little medicine cup. You exchanged a glance, then softened your voice. “Medicine.”
“It’s not another one of Misty’s creations,” you assured her. “It’s uh… a magical healing potion. You’ve had it before. This one works.”
“What is it…?”
“Tylenol.”
If Cordelia wasn’t about to pass out, she would’ve smiled. But all she could do was weakly nod.
You slipped your hand beneath her head and tilted it up while Queenie gave her the medicine. It took a few tries but Cordelia managed to swallow it. Once her head was back on the pillow, Zoe laid an icepack over her forehead. Cordelia moaned softly in appreciation. Misty and Madison shut the curtains and blinds.
Soon, the room was quiet and dark, the perfect place to sleep off a deep sickness.
All of the other girls left once Cordelia had fallen asleep. You stayed by her side, watching her chest as it rose and fell. Now that she was passed out she looked younger than ever. The deep shadows beneath her eyes finally softened, and her brow no longer furrowed.
As worrying as this all was, you had a feeling it was nothing too serious. Cordelia hadn’t caught the flu or something worse. She simply just worked herself until her body couldn’t take it. And now her body was fighting back, hard.
Sometime during your vigil, you drifted off. You weren’t sure when, but you didn’t wake until a soft voice entered your ears.
“Y/N…?” You blinked. Then, slightly more insistent: “Y/N.”
Cordelia was beside you, eyes wide and a little shiny.
“Cordelia… hi.” You yawned. You were still half asleep.
“Hi.” Cordelia murmured. “Y/N, would you grab me a bin, please?”
A bin? Shit.
You reached and grabbed the bin just in time, shoving it into Cordelia’s lap. You gathered all of her blonde hair and held it as she vomited again. Not much came up this time, just bile, but Cordelia still heaved and gagged for a fruitless while.
Finally, she lifted her head. A few tear streaks painted her face but she was clearly much more lucid than before. You cleaned her face with a tissue.
“You okay?”
Slowly, Cordelia nodded. “Better. I feel better…” She placed the bin on the ground with a soft shudder. “...think I needed that.”
“Well… that’s good.” You smiled. “You were worrying us there for a bit. We’ve never…” you trailed off, not wanting to make her feel embarrassed.
Cordelia sensed it anyway. Her expression hardened, then softened within moments. A light flush dusted her cheeks. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what happened. I’ve never felt that awful before.”
“I think you’ve been working too hard. You need rest too.” You nudged her arm. “You’re not a superhuman or anything.”
“Oh, I know.” Cordelia grimaced. “My head is killing me. I think I could sleep for a week.” She closed her eyes, forehead brushing your shoulder.
“Maybe that’s a sign.” Her temperature was still high, but not too awful. You tucked her hair back behind her ears and slipped your arm around her. “You need to take some time for yourself.”
Cordelia was quiet. Then, with a soft whimper, she tucked her head under yours. “I’m sorry I worried you girls,” she whispered. “You shouldn’t have to—“
“—I wanted to. I don’t mind.” You cut her off. “Okay?”
“…fine.”
“Fine.” You smiled. “You should try and sleep some more. It’s still early anyway.”
Cordelia nodded but she didn’t pull away from you. So, you carefully laid down and laid her beside you.
“…will you rub my back?” She whispered softly. “Everything hurts.”
Slowly, you slipped one arm over her waist. You started rubbing her back in soothing circles. Cordelia was quiet until you hit between her shoulders. She let out a low, shuddering sound and relaxed. “That’s better.”
“Good.”
She let out a soft, sleepy hum before snuggling into you. “Stay, please?”
“You’re silly if you think I’m going anywhere.” You scolded affectionately. “Now sleep.”
“Bossy.” Is all Cordelia replied. Within moments, she was out. But even in her sleep, she cuddled closer to you, tucking beneath your chin and holding onto your waist.
You planted a careful kiss to the top of her head and pulled her close enough so there was no space between you. When Zoe wandered in to check on you two in the morning, she would definitely tease, but right now you didn’t even mind. Cordelia was getting better and you were more than happy to snuggle with her for the rest of the night.
I really liked your Carr stories so if you're still searching for ideas, what about something where Carr goes on a date with reader and is surprised that she is not only interested in sleeping with her but really wants to know her (because she's so insecure, my babyyyy)
Summary: On your first date with Carrington, you realize she isn't all as confident as she seems. Request
Warnings/Notes: No warnings! Ignore the gif I'm too lazy to remake it. Still in a bit of a writers slump but this was too cute not to do :)
Word Count: 2261
“You showed up.”
A voice caught your attention. You finished scanning the line on the menu before lifting your gaze.
Across from you stood an older woman, brunette hair framing her face perfectly. Her dark eyes met yours briefly. Then she scoffed and removed her coat.
“You thought I wouldn’t?” You prompted, leaning forward with your elbows on the table.
“No. I mean no, I didn’t think you wouldn’t.” She grimaced at her own reply. “Nobody ever stands me up. I’m just surprised Susanne was competent enough to actually plan this.”
“Susanne is very competent.”
“Hence why I haven’t fired her.”
Susanne was Carrington’s assistant, and your close friend. She mentioned her boss once while the two of you were drunk, you begged for a picture, and the rest was history. You didn’t expect her to actually set the two of you up on a date but you were incredibly thankful for it.
“I hear you fire a lot of people,” you decided to opt for a little teasing. Susanne had mentioned that Carrington enjoyed a good playful bickering session. Well… she enjoyed real bickering, so a little flirty debate should do the job.
“You’d be surprised how many unqualified people splat right on my desk.” She snorted softly, opening the menu. “Then I’m the one left to scrape them up and toss them out. It’s almost embarrassing.”
You laughed. “And I’m assuming it’s the same with your clients?”
“You wouldn’t believe it.” Carrington replied. “I can’t legally share too much, but I sign so many NDA’s I don’t know if I’m even allowed to breathe. I’m better off than every person I know, but I’m not that level of clinically insane.”
“That’s reassuring.”
“I’m glad I could bring you comfort,” she lifted the water from the table, pressing it to her lips momentarily before sipping. “Since you know so much about me, tell me something about you. And flag the waiter because I don’t do anything past surface level without wine.”
Carrington ordered an expensive bottle of red wine. Despite the alcohol, she didn’t get past surface level anyway. Deep questions were met with incriminating stares and casual comments were laughed off. The only thing she would talk about was her work because it was safe. But you weren’t one to give up.
After placing orders for your food, you took a sip of your wine for extra courage. “You being a lawyer is very impressive and all, but I’m not looking to just date a lawyer. I’m interested in what’s under the suit.”
“You’d like to see me naked.”
“Yes. But that’s not what I meant.”
“I have no problem with you seeing me naked.”
“Would you rather undress right now or tell me something personal?” You smirked.
She scowled. “You’re getting a little mouthy, Y/N. I don’t owe you any explanations. For all I know, you could be some little bitch sent by my enemies. You’ll worm your way under my skin and into my brain like a parasite.”
Oh. Okay.
“Number one: Ew. Number two: I’m sorry, but if you’re not going to tell me anything about you, I’m not doing this. I don’t want to date a robot or somebody I know nothing about.” You frowned. “If you won’t tell me anything, this won’t work out. For all I know, you could be the psychopath. It makes me feel like you don’t actually want this to work out.”
“It’s not that…” she muttered, pressing her hands together, the leather squeaking softly. “I’m just… not used to somebody wanting to know about me.”
You sighed. “Fine. Let’s play a game. I’ll tell you something about me, and then you do the same.” You suggested. When she didn’t fight, you smiled. “I’m a big physical media collector. DVD’s, CD’s, all of that.”
“That’s interesting, in this day and age.” Carrington was quiet for a moment, scanning through her brain of anything she could share, anything worth sharing… anything that wouldn’t reveal too much. Finally, she murmured the first thing that came to mind: “I was born left handed.”
“Born?”
“I’m sure you’ve heard how they used to beat it out of kids in Catholic school? They certainly beat it out of me.” Carrington laughed a dry, bitter laugh. “They didn’t beat the devil out of me, though. I mean, here I am, on a date with a woman.”
You tried to laugh, for her sake. She was finally admitting something personal (and painful) to you. The last thing you wanted to do was drive her back into her shell. Especially when it was something more personal than you had expected.
“Are you religious?” You prompted.
“God no.” Carrington shook her head. “It’s all just bullshit meant to comfort people because the big wide world is twoo scawry for them,” she shuddered a little. “I got kicked out of Catholic school for cussing out the nuns.”
“Seriously?”
“Yes.”
“That’s amazing.” You laughed again. “How old were you?”
“Twelve… maybe thirteen? The head nun was a pain in my ass. I’d like to take her to court for emotional damages and whack her down with a hammer in the parking lot.” Carrington replied. After the words left her mouth, her wide eyes flicked to you as if expecting backlash. When you just smiled, she faintly grinned too. “Only after everyone had left, of course.”
She was feisty, that was for sure. A part of you was worried she would actually do it. The other part of you thought it was maybe deserved, on the off chance it did happen.
“I’ll be your alibi.” You promised as the food arrived. You ordered some pasta while Carrington opted for a ridiculously priced salad.
That made her smile again. “You’re insane. I don’t give out compliments often, but you can’t be real. You should probably turn me in before I hurt somebody.”
“Where’s the fun in that? She sounds like she deserves a good whacking.”
“Honestly, she’s probably dead. But a girl can dream.” She twirled her fork between her fingers, then pressed the prongs to her lips for a moment of deep thinking. You were already way more tolerant of her… opinions. She was taking a liking to you, she didn’t want you to be the only one asking the questions. “Do… you have any kids?”
You shook your head. “No. No kids, just me.”
“Lucky.”
“Lucky?” You laughed. “Do you have a kid? Don’t tell me; 3 teenage boys.”
“One, preteen daughter,” Carrington gave you a pointed look. “Amabel. She’s… well, she’s like the better version of me.”
You smiled. “I can’t quite think of anything better than you.” You added in a teasing attempt to make her blush. It almost worked but she turned away at the last second. “Does she look like you?”
“If I had blue eyes and was pale as a fucking vampire. She doesn’t like going outside, but she’s very smart. She’s like a little me if I grew up in a nice environ…” Carrington trailed off. “But she’s a pain in the ass too. She inherited my smart mouth and her fathers stubbornness.”
“He’s not in the picture?” You asked hesitantly.
Her smile twitched but remained in place, forcefully. “He’s–well, he’s my friend, sometimes, usually when it benefits him or I haven’t scared him off.” She took a hefty bite out of her salad, taking the time to chew. “But she sees him often enough. He’s not a deadbeat or anything.”
“Well, that’s good.” You were encroaching on a delicate subject, but also a personal one. You had to move carefully. “Can I see her?”
Carrington’s brows raised in surprise. Then, as if she had been waiting for you to ask, she pulled her phone out and held up a photo of the girl. She was certainly her mothers daughter. Before you could reply, the phone slipped out of her hand and into your pasta. The fork flew and clattered to the ground. Some of the remnant sauce splashed up, staining her gloves.
“Fuck!” You both exclaimed at the same time. A few people glanced in your direction and a waiter rushed over some towels.
Carrington swiped her phone back while you wiped the worst of the sauce off. While she was removing the last few specks, you noticed the sauce clinging to her leather gloves and gently grabbed her arm.
The second your thumb brushed her wrist, she yanked back. “What are you doing?” She snarled. It was almost as if a switch had been flipped. Whatever was sitting across from you was a wild animal rather than a woman.
“I was just trying to…” you held up a wad of paper towels, then pointed to the sauce on her hand. “May I?”
“No. No, you may not. Don’t just touch me.” She stood up, pushing her chair in fast enough that the whole table shook. “We barely know each other! You can’t just grab me! Especially not there!”
The whole restaurant was watching now, all wide eyes on Carrington’s sudden lash out. A nearby couple, one Carrington had been glaring at earlier, snickered. A group of older ladies looked appalled. Even the waiter appeared amused.
“I didn’t mean to–” You glanced around. She was making a scene. If you weren’t so confused, you would’ve been embarrassed, but you were mostly focused on making sure she didn’t leave. “I’m sorry, alright? Can you sit back down?”
As if snapping out of a trance, Carrington’s head swiveled around, taking in the watchful eyes. Then, finally, she looked at you. Her eyes were wide too; no longer in anger, but in fear. She snatched her phone and stormed off towards the bathroom, shoulders drawn in tight like a shield.
You waited. 2 minutes. 5 minutes. 10 minutes.
Finally, at 12, you draped your jacket over your chair and headed to the bathroom. Her coat was left behind so you knew she hadn’t left yet. Well, you hoped she hadn’t left. Someone like her might see no problem in abandoning her $400 coat and fleeing through the back.
But she was in the bathroom when you wandered in. The sink was on and her hand was under the spigot, cold water soaking her glove. At one point she had been washing it, as shown by the remnant soap bubbles in the sink, but now she was staring through herself in the mirror. You stared at her through the reflective glass in hopes she would turn. Either she didn’t see you, or she didn’t care.
The former was proven true when you finally came to her side and cleared your throat.
The almost hazy film over her eyes faded the second she turned to you. Her face fell and she slammed the sink off. “What?”
“Are you coming back to the table?”
“You want me to?”
“Do you want to?”
Carrington looked genuinely startled. She glanced between you and herself in the mirror. Her perfect appearance had been marred: her face flushed, her hair ruffled from where she’d been clutching at it, her one glove soaked, now dripping on her dress…
“You’re not leaving…?” She finally rasped. “Not after what I did?”
You frowned. The sincere surprise on her face was heartbreaking. She thought you would’ve run off by now. “No. I’m not leaving.”
“That’s stupid. I lost my fucking mind out there, and you’re staying? What’s wrong with you?”
“A lot.” You smiled faintly. “I really didn’t mean to upset you. I’m… I’m not quite sure what I did, but I won’t do it again. I didn’t want to drive you off.”
Carrington sighed. “No, I overreacted. You… you didn’t do anything that awful. I just don’t like my gloves being touched. Ever.”
“Okay.”
“…okay? That’s it?”
“I won’t touch your gloves again.” You assured her. “But I would really like it if you came back to the table with me.”
“Really…?”
“Yes, really.” You offered your hand. When you realized the irony, you started to pull it away, but stopped when she took it. Her grip was firm beneath the leather and she didn’t show any signs of letting go.
So you took her back to the table and you finished eating in a gentle silence. You were a little worried she would still flee, but she didn’t. She finished her food, wiped her face, and clasped her hands.
“I have to admit… I’m surprised.” Carrington finally rasped. Her eyes bore a hole through the table, refusing to meet yours. “I mean, I’ve been on a lot of dates, a lot of people want to sleep with me.” She tried to laugh. “But nobody ever wants to really know me. I’m not quite sure how to react.”
You had figured that out earlier, but it felt nice to hear her say it. Finally she dared to look up. The vulnerability was almost glassy in her eyes; fear, anxiety… but at your lack of response: acceptance.
Before you could reply, she cleared her throat. “Anyway, I appreciate this. I’m glad I didn’t scare you off.”
“You’d have to do a lot more to scare me off.” You nudged her foot beneath the table. “Does that mean you would be up for a second date?”
“A second date?”
“Yes. Something similar to this, but maybe somewhere else.” You chuckled softly. “If you’d like.”
For a moment, you weren’t sure what she was going to say. Carrington took a big gulp of her wine before nodding. “I think I would like that, yes.”
Writing a fic for her rn and had too many ideas to write into said fic, so have this instead :) this is also my 250th post lol
Was born left handed but to a super religious school growing up and literally had it “beat out of her.”
Now she writes with her right hand, but it still feels wrong. Can only catch and throw left handed. Is too embarrassed about it so she acts like she can’t
Speaking of the super religious school, I’m gonna say she’s got some religious trauma. She doesn’t believe in anything anymore after her Dad died
The school she went to was incredibly strict and she felt really isolated.
Used to be really close with her Dad but I’ll say he had some issues and they drifted apart. There begins her daddy issues which also relate to her strange Jesus fetishizing thing
It started as her imagining he was her father and saving her from her bad situation but the worse things got, the further it got warped. She only remembers thinking of him in sexual manners rather then parental
Obviously she found her father after she killed himself which sort of broke her, as it would anyone. They weren’t super close but she blames herself for it even though she was just a kid. Wishes she could go back and change things with him
She started lashing out and isolating herself, which led to her getting kicked out of whatever churchy school she was in. She went to a public school and became sort of the quiet nerd instead. Desperately wanted friends and thought she knew how to make them, but she was too scared of them leaving her so she didn’t try
This isolation led to her being more socially awkward as an adult (think the first episode)
Back to the topic of her family, she wasn’t very close with her mother either. Her father wasn’t the best, he was mostly just absent. But her mother wasn’t super strict and became worse after the death of her father (lmao mommy issues too)
They don’t talk anymore
Didn’t always want to be a lawyer. I think she was the sort of girl growing up who got told that she would make a good lawyer and she took it literally
If she had another choice, in the past she would’ve rather been a professor to try and mend the wounds caused by hers. Obviously now she would never even dream about it
Had a brief time period where she wished she pursued fashion when she first discovered The Devil Wears Prada
If the movie came out when she was a kid she totally would’ve had Miranda Priestly posters all over her room
Also would now if she wasn’t afraid of looking childish.
This is literally canon but she has the biggest crush on Meryl Streep. Her second crush after Jesus
Back when she worked for Dina, she also had a crush on Liberty (she still does)
Always felt isolated while working for Dina. In a way she felt above the other women, thinking Dina preferred her and that she was the better lawyer
But she also felt way below them. She wasn’t pretty or charming like they were. Liberty was the only one who was a little different, having just come to the U.S. to work as a lawyer (idk if her backstory is actually mentioned in the show, I forgot, so if this isn’t trending tell me)
Anyway, Carrington felt a connection to Liberty and wanted to befriend her before the other woman swooped her up. She tried a few times and failed. Liberty thought she was cute and sort of dorky and would’ve happily been friends with both Carr and Allura and Emerald but Carrington didn’t like that so she backed off
Still crushed on her hard though. She probably won’t ever get over it
I think Dina probably picked Carr as her guinea pig in a way. She was the first woman she ever met with real potential, and probably the only one in the office at that time, so she took her under her wing. And Carr showed so much promise that Dina continued to mentor other women
But Carrington was the first. And won’t let anybody else forget it. Dina was her mom first, and a better mom than she ever had. She doesn’t like to share
I don’t think Carr is a sociopath directly, but I can understand the narcissistic diagnosis. But more than anything I just think she’s super neurodivergent and just doesn’t have the same social handbook everybody else does
She’s definitely learned it overtime, but combined with all the pain she’s suffered and the way she was raised, she tends to go overkill. Hurt before she can get hurt. If she kills, it’s on accident, but justified in her mind
Sometimes she really does regret the things she said. She still feels horrible for what she said to Emerald about the photos. If there’s anybody she would ever apologize to, it would be her
Has stopped cutting herself multiple times. She started after her father passed and did so pretty consistently until having Amabel. Stopped again, then started once she was abandoned at the firm. Managed to stop again once things started turning around, and for Amabel again, but I can see her starting again after Dina and the whole love/pity thing
Hates that she does it but it’s really her only source of relief
Sebastian helped her stop the first two times. He and Amabel (and Dina and Chase ((Liberty?)) I guess) are the only ones that know. She hates telling people about it but sometimes she has to
Amabel found out one day when she was around 10. She happened to walk in on her mother without her gloves on, and Carrington decided to just tell her rather than lie
She just told Sebastian though. And Dina
Will not tell anyone that she started again, though. Not until it gets too bad. She’s well aware of when she starts getting too bad and has always managed to ask for help, but she knows that might not always be the case
Also has depressive/manic episodes. Has medication but she’s not the best at taking it
Now for some more lighthearted things
Has a tattoo. Probably something stupid on her back (tramp stamp?) that she got when she was younger to spite her mother.
Always says she would get it removed but she never does
(Also, sometimes lies and says she uses her gloves to cover tattoos if anyone ever asks. It’s a shitty lie but it’s the one she always goes for)
Had a little lisp growing up. Still does when she’s comfortable
Tries to force herself to like cold showers but she literally can’t do it
She tends to run cold anyway. She would never let anybody ever see her this way, but when she’s home alone she’ll throw on a big comfy cardigan and warm socks
I don’t know if I’m just dumb or the colors registered weird on my screen but I think her hair was darker in the first scene of her on the show before her glow up?
If it wasn’t, pretend it was and hear me out
She tried to dye her hair blonde on her own because she thought it would make people like her better. Anyway she fucked up and had to dye it brown again but it still wasn’t the same as her natural hair. Ended up liking the result so much she still does it
Well, she has a hair stylist do it. She doesn’t mess with bleach anymore
Is bisexual. Acts like she prefers men and has only ever really been with a man but she really likes women the most. I think a woman would fix her
Has been with a few women strippers or one night stands. Found it 200 times more satisfying than with a man. I think although she’s definitely an atheist now she’s got a little bit of internalized homophobia but only for herself. She thinks being with a woman will be just another thing she can get mocked for
But deep down I think it’s what she wants the most
Acts like she hates animals. If forced to pick, she would say she wants a borzoi. What she really would pick is some shelter pup
Actually she’d probably end up with like 5. Hence why she has no pets
I think she’d enjoy a good fluffy cat too. Particularly a black one
Amabel once told her she has ‘black cat’ energy. Has no idea what it means but took it to heart and now thinks of it proudly
I’m sure she’s very media literate and tech savy but I think the idea of her being like an old person with a phone is adorable
Has a few private social medias, and a few fake ones to stock the other women, but aside from that she just uses her phone to take pictures. It’s very aesthetic and clean looking though.
She likes documenting happy moments so she can come back to them when she’s upset. Her therapist recommended she get a journal. She told the poor lady to fuck off, but secretly got one and uses it anyway
Rarely texts with emojis but likes to spam Amabel with them to annoy her (it works). Also manages to find emojis nobody’s ever heard of or seen before
Her favorite color is purple. Fight me
Prefers dark, neutral tones (ie: her house and office). But not modern and minimalist. She prefers a good, almost antique design if you get what I’m saying
Needs glasses. Has glasses. Will not wear glasses
Sometimes, and I mean sometimes wears contacts
Anyway, came up with most of these on the spot. I’m sure there’s many of them that canonly can’t work but that’s okay
Couldn’t pick 1 to write for, so have my new idea:
Valentine’s Day with some Cates
(Carol, Lou, Hela, Catherine)
Yes I’m sure most of these women would be super smutty but I’m more into fluff, so have fun
Carol Aird:
Super romantic
Shared breakfast in bed
Honestly she’d probably love to stay in bed all day with you, but you both get restless after a while, even with cuddles
Will literally dress you and brush your hair for you. Reluctantly lets you do the same for her. Lets you pick out her jewelry if she can pick your clothes
The day isn’t really planned. All that’s set in stone is a nice romantic dinner in a luxury restaurant nearby, but the rest of the day is free
It’s mostly spent pampering each other
Squeezing into the bath tub together and washing each other’s backs. You hold Carol from behind and hum while she makes lunch. She forces you to take a break from shoveling the snow and makes you some hot chocolate. Taking a post-lunch cuddle break and talking while you rest her head on her chest and she pets your hair
Later, you head out to dinner. But before that, you exchange gifts
Carol got you something related to a hobby of yours. Something you’d been bringing up for weeks that would make it easier, but you just couldn’t bring yourself to buy it. As well as a cute travel bag
You bought her a hair clip so beautiful even Harge’s mother would be jealous, and a sweet framed photo of you, Carol, and Rindy
Dinner was just as you had hoped. You head home afterwards, pop open a bottle of wine, and then probably hit the bedroom
Lou Miller:
Also super romantic but in a hot way
Imagine her (lovingly) forcing you to go on a little Valentine’s trip. Probably a few hours away to some cozy place you can be alone together. Car driven, unfortunately, because it’s cold
I’m thinking a cute little town in upstate NY to get out of the city
Wakes you up with the usual bedroom activities and then presents you with a ridiculously expensive piece of jewelry she nicked before the trip
Takes you out for breakfast at some nearby diner. The two of you walk through the town and shop before it gets too cold
Lunch at a cafe before a scenic drive. Followed by a very expensive dinner and a freezing ride on a rented motorcycle
It’s worth it for the view, though
Takes you back to the motel afterwards and you two shower together. You exchange more gifts. Lou bought enough expensive chocolate to feed a whole family. You bought her a map of the United States and placed hearts over the places you traveled together
And some toys
Y’know what happens next
Ends with her spooning you from behind, kissing your shoulder and murmuring softly until you fall asleep. Once your breathing grows heavy, she lets herself drift off
Hela
Had no idea what Valentine’s Day was. There’s probably some similar Norse holiday but nothing like the capitalist run celebration there is on Earth
With a little convincing, you managed to get Hela to agree on celebrating in Asgard
Which she acted like she hated because showing love and affection is something Hela only likes if she’s the one doing it. If she sees some couple being lovey-dovey in the street she has to physically restrain herself from gutting them
Some sort of love day does happen, though
You also convince Hela to take the day off and keep her confined to the castle to prevent a sudden surge in deaths
Spends the morning all pissy but is secretly melting inside. You treat her like the queen that she is, attending to her every needs yourself and letting her reward you
She insists you buy something for Fenris because you love him too. She then one-ups you and buys something better because she loves him more
Disappears during lunch which terrifies you. But she later shows up with such an insane present, you can’t help but adore her
You like chocolate? You’re getting a human sized chocolate bear made by the best chocolatiers in Asgard
Clothes? You have 25 new seamstresses at your service
An earth related hobby? She sent 5 poor servants down there who bought out the entire stock of what you need
Whatever it is, you get it, astronomically
You feel a little inferior. Your gift is simpler: a book full of things that remind you of Hela. Photos, drawings, poems, flowers, anything you could find is pasted in there
You worry she won’t like it. But when you give it to her that evening, she actually may have cried. Her whole life, she’s been royalty and had everything she ever wanted at her fingers. But she was a weapon, and was never treated with love. A handmade present seemed so foreign to her, it’s the best gift she could’ve asked for
Snuggles. And the same thing as every other character on this list, you know the drill
Catherine Ravenscroft
Both of you have the idea to wake up early and make breakfast to surprise the other
Catherine finds you, bleary eyed and holding a carton of eggs, while she’s looking rather similar
You end up making breakfast together
Eating on the couch while watching tv
You help her get ready for work and send her off with a wave. She arrives to find an embarrassing amount of flowers and hearts all over her desk, as well as a few balloons
Sends you a strongly worded, mortified text
You reply asking her to meet you for lunch
She agrees since she has to work late
You have lunch downtown. She tells you off again for love-bombing her office but she’s smiling so hard you can’t help but grin
After lunch, it conveniently starts to rain so you mingle in the bookstore until it stops enough for her to walk back. (Yes, she has an umbrella. No, she won’t use it.)
You buy each other a book.
The rain breaks long enough for her to leave. You kiss her and slip chocolates into her bag
She told you not to wait up. You did anyway. And Catherine comes home to find you half asleep with your book on your face
She sinks down onto the mattress and kisses you. Holds you until you’re asleep, then slips away to get ready for bed, before rejoining you
Yeah, that’s it. Should I do more things like this? It was fun
Hey! I rewatched Coven and Apocalypse because of you and the fact that you resurrected my love for Cordelia, so at least, you have me reading it? Please, don’t stop too soon writing for her, every characters you touch result in a masterpiece. Thank you for you service 🙇 Take care! ✨🪼
Hiii this is actually so sweet I love this💗💗💗I just watched Apocalypse and am currently rewatching Coven lol so don’t worry, I have many more Cordelia fics planned 💗tysm
Summary: You give Cordelia the best Valentine's Day she could ever dream of.
Warnings/Notes: Pure sickening fluff because she's such a sweetheart <333 (Do people even still read Cordelia fics?)
Word Count: 3006
The academy was quiet. Curtains were pulled over dark windows, blocking the unrisen sun. The maids hadn’t begun making breakfast yet, still in bed as the girls were. Not even Cordelia was up yet.
Which is why you were.
You crept out of bed at 5:30 AM after untangling yourself from Cordelia’s warm limbs. You placed an easily reversible sleep spell on her just in case. She didn’t like sleeping without you at her side.
You hated leaving her too. Sleeping Cordelia was much different than any other version. Gone was the tightness in her brow, that tired look from her eyes, deep enough you could get lost in the years of pain if you gazed long enough. Asleep, she was peaceful and young, brow relaxed and lips lifting ever so slightly when you kissed her head.
But you had a very important reason to leave. It was Valentine's day. The previous year, you were with Cordelia to celebrate the holiday but you were both so busy handling the new growth of the academy all you exchanged were boxes of chocolates before passing out in each other's arms. Now, you were determined to make this a holiday to remember and tell Cordelia how much you truly loved her.
You’d taken the chance to prepare the night before. Handwritten love letters were tucked all around the academy in places only she frequented (and labeled with her initials on the off chance one of the girls found one). Every flower vase was filled with a mixture of her favorites: marigolds, roses, and chrysanthemums. One of the maids helped you tidy the ever growing mess of papers in her office and you even climbed on the desk to remove the spiderwebs she had been complaining about but never made an effort to remove.
Now, you were making her (secret) favorite breakfast of pancakes, honey, and strawberries. If asked, Cordelia would opt for some sort of oatmeal or toast, fearing her pancakes to be too childish, one of the many remaining pains from Fiona, but you knew what she really loved. Pancakes, and a nice hot cup of tea.
You made said pancakes, picking out only the best of the batch to set on one of Cordelia’s special occasion plates. You retrieved the syrup and honey and cut up some strawberries into a small bowl. You poured some tea into Cordelia’s favorite mugs and snatched a chrysanthemum to tuck onto the tray. Then you made your way up the stairs as the clock hit 6:30
Normally you would force her to sleep in on such a day but she was running some important exams she had to prepare for. You treasured your girlfriend more than anything, and you knew in the second spot on her ranking was the academy. So you decided to wake her up a little earlier so she could enjoy her breakfast for once.
You removed the sleeping spell and bent down to kiss her forehead.
Cordelia stirred with a soft groan, scrunching her eyes when the curtains pulled open. She nuzzled her face into the pillow before slowly opening her eyes. She blinked, staring up at you in confusion, before finally rasping: “Y/N?”
“Good morning,” you pressed a soft kiss to her sleep-swollen lips. “How did you sleep?”
“Very well… too well, give me a moment.” Cordelia rubbed her eyes before sitting up. “Why are you up so early? Is everything alright?”
“Everything is perfect.” You assured her. You let her confusion stir a moment longer before placing the breakfast tray in her lap. “Happy Valentine's Day, Cordelia.”
The older woman was silent for a moment. Her eyes fell to the tray, arranged so delicately. Even after a year at your side she still struggled to accept the small loving things you did for her. Just the idea that you loved her enough to do this…
“This is all for me?” Cordelia asked softly.
“All of it.” You took a seat beside her, bearing a warm smile.
Something complicated flashed across her face; confusion, pain, adoration. She considered crying, then worried she wouldn’t be able to start once she started. Instead, she took a deep breath and closed her eyes. “You didn’t have to do this…”
“I wanted you.” You took her hands into yours. “You do so much for all of us, yet you never let us do anything for you. You never let me do anything for you. I want today to be special.”
She wasn’t sure she would be able to stop herself from crying. “Why?”
“Because I love you, Delia.” You squeezed her hands. “Okay? And because you deserve to know how much I love you.”
A few tears spilled down her cheeks. Cordelia lifted one hand to cover her eyes, the other still held in yours. “Oh, Y/N,” she sobbed softly. “I love you so much. I-I didn’t expect this. I never…”
“Shh,” you wrapped your arms around her, her head falling on your shoulder. Your warmth eased the flow of her happy tears and soon you were both smiling. “If you cry this much over breakfast, you’re going to be in tears all day.”
Cordelia groaned. “You’re going to ruin me.” She lifted her head and wiped beneath her eyes. “I don’t know what to say. I’m terrified. But I’m also worried my heart is going to explode.”
“Don’t say anything.” You smiled. The fork was cool under your palm as you scooped some pancakes and strawberries onto it. Then you lifted it to her lips. “Just tell me if I’m a shitty cook.”
She gave you a playful, wary look before taking a bite. She chewed, swallowed, then smiled. “You’re wonderful, Y/N.”
That earned her a kiss, followed by another bite.
Cordelia had never been one for PDA in front of the other girls. Pressing her knee against yours at the kitchen table or finally relaxing against you on the couch when she was sure nobody was looking was about the highest it went. Whenever you bothered her about it she always gave a lame answer so you decided to let her come around on her own.
Today seemed to be that day.
After you helped her get ready for the morning, she held your hand as the two of you went downstairs, as in: she reached for you. It made your heart swell and both of you walked with smiles.
You accompanied Cordelia to the usual morning gathering, watching proudly from the wall with Zoe and Queenie. Then the girls scurried off to their exams and you kissed Cordelia goodbye.
When lunch rolled around and there was no sign of her, you went to seek her out. All the girls had finished the first part of their exams and were enjoying their break, which meant she wouldn’t be in the classroom. Her office was the next likely place.
And you were right. Though she wasn’t working like you thought she would be.
Instead, she was standing in the doorway, looking in. That ever growing pile of papers on her desk had been tidied just the way she liked (double checked by you). And one of the maids had managed to sneak a few big heart balloons inside.
Cordelia sensed your presence behind her and turned to face you with big eyes and a few handwritten love notes folded in her hands. Just one look at you standing there with a plate of lunch and that big smile… she wanted to cry again.
But she held back, just laughing. “Oh my god, Y/N. I… When did you do all of this?”
“Last night, with some help from the maids.” You guided her in, a hand on her lower back. “You’d been complaining for weeks.”
“Oh, I know. I just—,” Cordelia stopped as she noticed another letter tucked into her mail holder. She gave you a pleading look before dropping the other ones and pulling you into a tight hug. “I don’t think my heart can take this.”
“I’m not done yet.”
“Y/N…”
“You’ll see. We’ll have a nice quiet dinner, somewhere special. Then I have some other gifts.”
“More?” Cordelia sounded almost horrified. She pulled away and looked at you. “Honey, really, I didn’t expect any of this. What I got for you can’t nearly compare… You deserve so much better, especially after this. I feel like I’ve let you down.” Her big chocolate eyes were watery once again with tears.
Tears that made your heart ache. You cupped her face, palms gently covering her flushed skin. “Cordelia, I don’t expect anything from you. Just having you is enough. Even just you existing. You work your ass off for this coven, and that’s not including everything you do for me. You never let anybody do anything for you.” You softened your voice. “That’s what today is.”
She shook her head as best as she could. “Both partners do things on Valentine’s Day…”
“Okay, fuck Valentine’s Day then. It’s… Cordelia Day. Because it’s a day about you, brought to you from me. Okay?”
Cordelia looked like she wanted to say 30 things, then kiss you hard enough you forgot where you were, while simultaneously sobbing her heart out. When she found she could do neither of those things, she simply nodded and sniffled before sinking into your arms.
Lunch was a peaceful affair after that. You read aloud the notes she found while she blushed and ate her favorite lunch. Then you convinced her to abandon the paperwork and cuddle on the tiny couch in the office. The cuddling was mostly her squeezed on top of your lap, her neck at an awkward angle as she rested her head on your chest and you complained about your knees, but you wouldn’t have had it any other way.
Cordelia returned to her exams, and you went off to perfect the last area: the Greenhouse. You couldn’t do anything earlier in fear she would wander in, but now she wouldn’t be free until dinner and you had all the time in the world.
You hung red garlands from the rafters, and anywhere else you could. Misty helped you bloom enough flowers to form a huge, heart shaped bouquet, and have more than enough leftover to sprinkle petals over the blanket on the ground.
The dirt was brushed away and the area was tidied up. You lit some candles for ambience. In the center of the blanket was a picnic basket. You’d tucked some expensive chocolate boxes nearby too, as well as another gift.
You didn’t bother finding Cordelia to bring her here. The long trail of rose petals through the house was enough of a trail, and soon, the door creaked open.
“Y/N…” Cordelia breathed softly as she took in the view. The candles, the garlands, you sitting there with an adoring expression, all of it. She covered her mouth, smiling so wide it started to hurt. “…you’ve been busy.”
“Just a little.” You grinned. “How did the exams go?”
“Wonderfully. We’ve got a lot of power brimming in this household.”
“Thanks to you.”
“Yeah, yeah…” Cordelia rolled her eyes as she sat down. When she caught a whiff of what was hidden in the picnic basket, she stiffened. “Don’t tell me…”
Inside was her favorite meal: an assortment of local foods from the area, some homemade, some purchased from her favorite places. Enough to feed a whole family but also enough for her to have a little bit of everything. And she did.
The two of you are in the quiet greenhouse, just talking and laughing. It wasn’t often the two of you got to eat like a normal couple. Sometimes, if enough of the girls had gone out, you could convince her to head to a restaurant, or sometimes if it was quiet only the two of you would be at the table. But it never happened enough for it to feel normal.
This is what it felt like to be normal. And for Cordelia, what it felt like to be utterly, unconditionally adored.
“You’ve got a little…” you reached over the empty plates and wiped some sauce off her cheek with your thumb.
Cordelia blushed. “Thanks,” she murmured shyly. She nudged the empty plates away and scooted over so she could touch you. Her arms wrapped around one of yours, her head nestling on your shoulder. “I’m so full, I don’t think I can get up.”
“Good, because we’re not done in here.” You said. “I got you something else. It’s not exactly the one you described because obviously… well, you know, but I hope it’ll have the same meaning.”
“What?” Cordelia frowned.
You simply waved your hand and a small, fluffy teddy bear appeared. It was of an older brand, eyes sewn in a distinct, almost sad style. The fur was as fluffy as a new bear would be, just like hers used to be.
As a child, Cordelia has a bear just like this one. A gift from a rare friend in her unusually lonely early years. She carried it until Fiona sent her to the academy and declared her daughter would not be seen with any toys on the property. It was childish. She wouldn’t let her daughter tarnish her reputation even more than she had.
When Cordelia snuck it in anyway, Fiona knew, even from halfway across the world. And one morning Cordelia woke up with empty arms to a small pile of ash on her pillow. That was that.
You managed to find the same bear online. Obviously it wasn’t the exact bear that held Cordelia’s heart, but it was the same. This was the only gift of yours you feared might be too childish. You held your breath.
Cordelia gasped as she saw what was in front of her. She did a double take between you and the bear before slowly reaching out, as if worried her fingers would move through it like an illusion. When she realized the bear was real she carefully took it and held it close.
“How…?”
“Honestly? eBay.”
Cordelia let out sort of a wet snort. She brushed her thumb over the bear's cheek, then traced its brow. Her touch was as soft as could be, tracing something so familiar to her, the pattern still natural.
Then she tucked the bear against her chest with one arm, and wrapped the other around you.
“I can’t even begin to thank you,” Cordelia whispered. She managed to not cry this time, but god, she was close. “For all of this. For… for the bear. There’s nobody I would rather hold but you… but he’s a close second.”
You chuckled. “Somehow, I’m not jealous.”
The two of you tidied up, exchanged chocolate boxes, and laid down on the extra pillows you brought out. Cordelia rested her head on your chest, the bear snuggled between the two of you. You draped an arm over her waist, the other busied with gently rubbing her forehead.
You talked a little, but it was mostly quiet. You kissed her head and she kissed your chest. You squeezed her and she squeezed you back. She intertwined her legs with yours and you moved so she could tuck her face into the nape of your neck.
For a while you thought she had fallen asleep. You were on the verge of doing the same, when she lifted her head.
“I have something to give you.” She whispered.
“You don’t—“
“—I want to. Hang on.” Cordelia scurried off, making sure you held the bear. She grabbed one of the candelabras, as well as some rose petals, and something small and sharp. Then she sat down and beckoned you over. You brought the bear.
“What is this?” You asked curiously.
Cordelia began to mash some of the rose petals up, making a red pulp. “A love ritual.”
“But we’re already in love?”
“Yes,” she chuckled quietly. “A ritual to prevail our love. To bind us together, in heart and soul. We’re together in this life, in this world, and I never want anything to tear us apart. With this, even if we’re not physically together, we’ll never be apart.”
You watched adoringly as she worked. The concentration on her face; the furrow of her brows, the movements of her hands, the grip of her fingers… When she finished mashing the roses, she dipped her thumb into the pull. She pressed it against your forehead and left a red mark before doing the same to herself.
“Do you want to do this?” She whispered.
“More than anything.” The reply came without a second thought, or much of a thought at all. You didn’t have to make the decision. You already knew.
Cordelia nodded. She took the sharp object, a little knife, then sliced your palm.
You winced, taking the offered knife and doing the same to her palm. Cordelia watched the blood bead on your hands until she grabbed yours and you pressed the cuts together.
She murmured a few soft words in Latin before pulling her hand away. Both cuts had been instantly healed, replaced by a warm tingling.
“Is that it?” You asked.
Cordelia nodded. “That’s it.” She tilted her head. “Were you expecting more?”
“Well, love rituals… I just didn’t expect them to be so quick.” You replied in a low tone, giving her a look. “I mean, we have all night, don’t we?”
Now, Cordelia’s cheeks were flushed red. “In here?” She whispered, eyes wide. “What if someone sees us? Or hears us?”
“Last I checked, you had that handy spell that made us basically soundproof. Besides, who’s going to come out here in the middle of the night?”
“You’re dangerous.”
“You like it.”
Cordelia couldn’t help but smile. She cleared the remnants from the ritual and pulled you in for a kiss. “I do like it. But I like you more.” She murmured against your lips. “Say the spell with me. Then the night is ours…”
Summary: You move back into your childhood home and find yourself entranced by the academy’s headmistress over time through garden deliveries.
Warnings/Notes: Hiii first Cordy fic I adore her <3 expect more, she’s my baby. Also this is such a random plot for a fic but I’ve been playing stardew valley if you couldn’t tell
Word Count: 3297
After a slight crisis, you decided to start over and return to your childhood home in New Orleans with your mother. College was a lot and you just needed some time to recover from it all. What better place than the home that you loved?
The house itself was big yet cozy, and ancient. But nowhere near as ancient as the girls' school that stood beside it, Miss Robichaux’s Academy. Growing up, you never got the chance to go into the academy but you befriended plenty of the girls there. They weren’t allowed to bring you inside, though you begged. Finally one of them cracked and told you that it was an academy for young witches.
If only you had been aware of your powers then.
You were a late bloomer in witchcraft terms. Your powers began to blossom once you left for college and overtime you gained more control of them. Nothing like telekinesis or mind reading as some of the others could do, but you found yourself gifted with plants and healing. Your friends referred to you as the greenest thumb they’d ever seen and a garden never died under your care.
Which is why, once you settled into your own home, you immediately began reviving your mothers sorry garden. Wilted tomato plants bloomed with gentle touches and the sad cilantro stood tall from song. Soon the plants were thriving once more.
“That’s quite a garden there.” A voice interrupted your thoughts. You looked around, eyes scanning the area until they met a chocolate pair on the other side of the fence.
“Oh. Thank you,” you smiled bashfully at the other woman. “It’s my mothers, I was just sprucing it up. She doesn’t come back here much anymore.”
“I’ve noticed. It’s too bad, she always used to bring extra harvest to the academy.” The woman returned your smile. “You’re her daughter, then?”
“Yes, Y/n.”
“I’m Cordelia Foxx.”
She was older but not drastically, which explains why you’d never seen her before. Her blonde hair was pulled back into a ponytail, a relief from the heat, and she was wearing a patterned floral dress. She had an ethereal beauty to her, something almost unnatural.
“It’s nice to meet you,” you finally said, breaking the awkward silence. “I’m staying with my mother for a while.”
“Well, I hope we can expect some grocery deliveries in the near future. Seems like all your fingers are green.” Cordelia grinned. “I’ve got to get back to my girls, but it was lovely to meet you. I’m sure I’ll see you around.” Before you could say anything else she was already gone. You knew she was a witch, and based on the look in her eyes, she knew the same about you.
But there was something else that had her corrupting your thoughts all night. She radiated kindness as though the sun itself had taken rest in her heart. She was beautiful, inside and out, and you couldn’t help but let her into your dreams.
A few days later you stopped by with some vegetables from the garden. You weren’t sure if Cordelia was kidding when she asked you to bring some by, but while thinking about her your powers spiked and the plants suddenly produced twice the amount as usual, way too much for just you and your mother. So you scooped up the extra into a nice basket and trotted over.
A young brunette girl opened the door. You were probably only a few years older than her. She looked between you and the vegetables and smiled. “You’re the neighbor.”
“Mhm.” You nodded. “Cordelia mentioned extra harvests and… well, this is way too much for just me.”
Her eyes sparkled and she stepped back. “Stay here, I’ll grab her for you.” She assured before turning and walking towards the stairs. “Miss Cordelia!”
“I’m here, Zoe, thank you.” The blonde appeared from around the corner in a white silk robe and glasses. “Y/n! I hope you didn’t bring everything over here, I didn’t want to pressure you into giving us your whole garden.”
“Not at all. This is just the extras.” You smiled.
So did she. “Well, what a wonderful surprise. Let me help you,” Cordelia took the basket with ease, relieving you of the weight. She carried it into the kitchen and you followed like a puppy. “These look perfect, Y/n. You really have a way with plants,” she murmured as she shifted through the vegetables. “Maybe I’ll cook tonight.”
That caught your interest. “You cook?”
“Sometimes. Usually our maid does it but every once in a while I get the urge to,” Cordelia hummed. “The girls find it amusing to see their headmistress whipping up omelets and cakes, though.”
“They’re lucky, I’m sure you’re a great cook.”
“It seems that’s the only thing I’m good at nowadays,” Cordelia replied without thinking. Then she frowned. “Enough about me, tell me about yourself.”
And you did, just the basics, you didn’t want to overwhelm her with the heavy details of your life, but you had a feeling she knew anyway. Mid-rant about college, and now helping her peel some carrots, you suddenly noticed the ring on her hand. “You’re married?”
Cordelia stiffened. Then, with a practiced smile, she nodded. “Mhm. 4 or 5 years now, yes.”
Well, consider yourself heartbroken. You tried not to think about it too hard because she could definitely sense it. Instead, you titled your head. “Do you both live here?”
“Usually. But lately Hank is always out on these construction jobs. I barely see him anymore.”
“That sucks.”
“Yes, I suppose it does.” Cordelia brushed the carrots into a container, her hand touching yours. Then she looked at the clock. “Oh! I’m so sorry, I have to get ready for class,” she paused. “I’m sorry, I was really enjoying this.”
You chuckled. “No, it’s alright, I don’t want to make you late. Maybe next time.”
“Next time?” She looked genuinely surprised that someone would want to spend more time with her. Then, same as before, she composed herself with a small smile. “I’d like that.”
“Me too.”
You brought baskets over once or twice a week, though you found Cordelia hanging around the fence near your garden more often too. She even helped you wrangle the over-producing blueberry bush that was practically drowning in berries. She didn’t ask about your powers, but she did compliment you which made your heart flutter.
You spent all of the next night working on a blueberry tart. You didn’t bake often but you wanted to impress her, so along with some extra fruits, you brought the dessert over.
The brunette, Zoe, met you at the door again. Her usual smile was diminished and slightly uneasy. “Y/n… hi, I don’t know if now is such a good time.”
You frowned. “Why not?”
Was it Cordelia’s mother? She had mentioned something about her the last time you were over and you could immediately sense the tension. You didn’t really want to press into her life, you knew you shouldn’t, but before Zoe could reply, you saw her.
In a soft black dress, more modest than usual, Cordelia slowly walked down the hall. One hand traced the wall while the other held a cane, poking in front of her to prevent any crashes. A pair of dark sunglasses sat over her eyes, but you could see red blooming around them.
Your heart sank.
“Y/n?” Cordelia asked softly.
You nodded, then remembered her condition. “Yes. I uh, it’s me.”
“It’s fine, Zoe,” the older woman murmured. “She can come in.”
Zoe gave you a worried look before leaving. Cordelia took a few steps forward before losing the wall. You grabbed her arm and she leaned into you for a second.
“Blueberry?” Cordelia said softly.
“Mhm.”
“Thank you, Y/n. Help me to the kitchen?”
You didn’t really think she needed the help, she knew the academy like the back of her hand. But you helped her anyway, a hand on her back as you guided her into the familiar room. She sat down at the table and you cut her a slice of the tart.
Cordelia pierced it with her fork but before she could lift it to her lips, it fell. She sighed. “I’m sorry. I know this isn’t what you expected. I…”
“What happened…?”
Slowly, she pulled her sunglasses off. Red splotches pebbled the area around her white, milky eyes. It looked worse up close and you covered your mouth so she couldn’t hear you gasp.
“Acid,” Cordelia finally murmured, lowering her head. “Some asshole at a bar. I don’t know why. Nobody does.”
“It’s kind of cool looking.”
“Spare me, will you?” Cordelia huffed. She reached to put her glasses back on but you grabbed her wrist before she could.
“Does it hurt?”
“Not so much anymore.”
“Then don’t wear them.” You eased the glasses from her fingers. “It’s okay. It’s… witchy looking.”
If Cordelia could see you, she would glare at you. She tried her best to muster an unimpressed look before it gave way to a reluctant chuckle. “You would know about that, wouldn’t you?”
“Not as much as you do.”
Cordelia reached out like she was swatting a fly. When you realized she was searching for you, you gently grabbed her hand. “Why haven’t you joined the academy?”
“I didn’t know until I was gone. Now I’m probably too old.” You admitted softly.
She smiled. “Nobody’s too old,” her thumb rubbed over the back of your hand. “But I understand. I’m sure we could find another place for you… if you’d like.”
“I’ll think about it.”
And you did. For a while. Mostly while you spent quiet afternoons with her, guiding her through the backyard or cheering her up after bouts of her mothers anger.
Then a few days passed where you didn’t see her. You were out of town for the weekend, though you left your number if she needed anything. She never called.
Now that you were back, you were in the middle of gathering the last of the strawberries when two pairs of footsteps approached the fence. You didn’t necessarily have to bring anything over anymore to be let in but you thought it would be a nice treat.
When you looked up, you were surprised to see Zoe and another girl with messy blonde hair. “Hello.”
“Y/n,” Zoe beckoned you close. “Are those for Cordelia?”
“Yes?”
“Good.” The other girl nodded. “Cause she’s crying in the greenhouse and won’t let any of us in to check on ‘er.”
“She’s what?”
“We all heard it, Fiona screamed at her.” Zoe’s expression turned worried.
“And her husband's a serial cheater.”
“And a witch hunter.”
“And he’s dead.”
“And we think Fiona hit her too.”
“Oh! And she has her eyes back. They’re pretty.”
You glanced between the two girls, taken aback by the information pouring out of them. Zoe seemed to notice and nudged the blonde.
“Anyway… can you go check on her? Please?”
“Of course! Will you let me in the gate?”
Turns out, Zoe didn’t have to, which was good because you were about to scale the fence. She waved her hand and the metal fence temporarily pulled apart until there was a hole big enough for you to walk through.
Carrying the basket, you quickly rushed over to the greenhouse. The door was open slightly and you stepped inside.
There she was, sitting on the floor, surrounded by plants. Her knees were pulled to her chest, chin on them, mismatched eyes blank as she stared ahead. She looked up when you came in and her face crumpled.
“Look at you,” you murmured, coming over and kneeling in front of her. “Pretty eyes…”
“Oh, stop,” Cordelia whimpered pathetically.
“I brought some strawberries.” You nudged the basket at her.
She tried to smile but she just started to cry and fell into your arms. You held her tightly, letting her sink into you like you could single-handedly protect her from every foul thing in the world. And you would try to if the opportunity arose.
Cordelia cried her new-found eyes out for what felt like hours. Everything had piled up so high, she was no longer carrying a burden but suffocating beneath it, and she felt like she was going to crack.
She was utterly useless. At least that’s what she’s been told her entire life and nobody cared to insist differently. She didn’t belong here anymore. Her powers were gone, her (awful) husband is now dead, and her mother hates her more than ever. The only person that didn’t seem to was you.
When she did settle down, she didn’t speak, she couldn’t. She didn’t know what to say, all she knew was that she was terribly embarrassed for everything she just did.
You were the one to break the silence. Not with words either. Instead, you grabbed a strawberry and blindly poked at her face from behind until she managed to bite it. Both of you giggled.
“They’re good,” Cordelia murmured softly. She wiped her face and turned around to face you, though still leaning into your warmth. “You’re a really talented gardener, Y/n… and a very good friend.”
“Well, I think you’re a very talented witch, and friend.”
Cordelia laughed bitterly. “You’re good at many things, lying isn’t one of them.”
“I’m not lying,” you protested. “I’m serious, Cordelia. You may not be the most powerful witch but that doesn’t mean you’re not a good one. You’re a wonderful leader to those girls. I feel like my powers grow stronger around you. You’ve helped me control them better.”
“That’s not a power. That’s just—“
“But what if it is?”
A mixture of emotions flit across Cordelia’s face; annoyance, confusion, hesitance, and then a very uneasy acceptance.
“You can already do the basic spells, I heard the girls talk about it. Maybe helping nurture other witches is your… talent.” You took her hands and rubbed the backs with your thumbs. “That’s your special power that nobody else has. And none of the awful things in your life can ever take that away.”
Cordelia looked like she was about to cry again. Then she wiped her face and took a shaky breath. “You’re going to have to hold me for another hour while I sob into your shoulder if you keep saying that.”
“It’s true, though.”
“Are you sure…?”
“I am.” You smiled. “You’re worth a lot, Cordelia. And you help everybody. I think this academy would be in shambles without you. Maybe your mother can’t see that, but everybody else can.”
A few tears sprung from her eyes and when she tried to speak it came out a soft whimper. She rubbed at her face again before sighing. Then, she grabbed a strawberry and shoved it into your mouth. “Stop talking. You’re making me cry.”
“I—“
“No. Shut up and eat your strawberry.” Cordelia scolded you like one of her students.
What else could you do? You ate your strawberry and smiled. “It is good.”
“It is.” She smiled too. Then hesitantly rested her head against your shoulder and closed her eyes. “Stay with me for a while?”
“Yes.”
And you did. You stayed with her long past sunset. And came to visit every day after that. You were with her through the second and self-inflicted loss of her eyes, through the transfer of Supremacy, and even through the death of her mother.
Now that the academy was bustling with students, you didn’t get to see her as often, but you had her schedule memorized and always snuck by during her lunch.
Today was no different. Carrying a basket of apples this time, you nudged the back door open and let yourself in the kitchen.
Cordelia was at the counter. She didn’t turn to face you but you saw the way her cheeks lifted in a smile. “Y/n.”
“Cordelia.” You set the basket down beside her. “I kept the strawberries growing as long as I can but even magic isn’t enough to keep them alive as it gets colder. Will these work?”
She took a peek at the apples and nodded. “Perfectly. Swing by later and we can make a pie?”
“I’d like that.”
“So would I.” As you started to walk to the table, Cordelia grabbed your wrist. She slipped her fingers down to interlock with yours and admired your (green) thumb momentarily. “You know, we are looking for a gardener. To keep the grounds but I also want to start a garden outback for the girls.”
“With how magic this soil is? You’ll have strawberries through all four seasons.” You laughed.
She smiled. “Would you be up for the job?”
“You know I don’t have a resume or any actual experience, right?”
“I’ve seen plenty of experience from you. It’s either you, or no garden.” Cordelia placed a kiss on the back of your hand. You blushed. She’d grown much more confident since becoming the Supreme. Telling her so only made her bashful but she had somehow become more beautiful too. She was glowing and tall and just gorgeous.
And you certainly couldn’t deny her. “Alright. I’ll take it.”
“Thank you.” Cordelia smiled. She turned back to her sandwich, tensed as though remembering something, then quickly turned back, cupped your face, and kissed you.
You squeaked in surprise. But you didn’t pull away. You just stood there like an idiot and let her kiss you.
When Cordelia stepped back, her face was red and her eyes were wide. The buzzing Supreme confidence had flickered and she had no idea what to do now that she’d taken the first step. “I’m… I don’t know what that—uh…”
But you didn't let her finish the rambling. You slipped your arms around her neck and kissed her back. It was longer, warmer, not desperate, but almost relieved.
You had been pining after her ever since you first met her, not believing she could ever fall in love with you. You were younger, less experienced, less powerful and had nothing but your green thumb.
But she believed the same. That she was nothing more than some old, pathetic excuse for a witch and a clot in her bloodline. You were young. You had your whole life ahead of you, and certainly had no reason to love her or even stick around, but you did. And now that heavy fog from her mind cleared and she could see that.
When the kiss finally broke, Cordelia cupped your face again. She ran her thumb up and down your cheek. Her chocolate eyes were teary, lips drawn into a beaming smile. “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that.”
You were smiling too, hands now tangled in her hair. “Oh… I think I know.”
She kissed you again, a quick peck more than anything. Then she pressed her forehead against yours and sighed.
“I have to eat lunch before class,” she murmured. “But afterwards I’ll be in my office until dinner.”
Always so hardworking. You huffed and lowered your voice. “I don’t want to see any paperwork on your desk when I sneak in there.”
Cordelia’s cheeks flushed. She gave you one last kiss before waving you off. The girls were starting to come into the kitchen for lunch and the last thing she wanted was to be spotted, although she was certain a few already knew. “Go on.”
You blew her a kiss and snuck out the backdoor. You never felt the need to sneak out before, most of the girls had gotten familiar with the deliveries, but it better suited the moment.
Besides, you had to practice for when you would sneak back in later.
College has started again for me so I may not upload as frequently (if once a week is frequent) but I’m gonna queue up some Valentine’s Day stuff hopefully <3
Hi! 🩷 If you’re still taking requests, I just came up with this half-idea: Carr is pissed about something (not hard to believe right? Bless her) maybe she’s arguing with Allura and she ends up saying something hurtful about reader in mid conversation (they are in a relationship) without meaning to. r happens to overhear just as she’s coming toward Carr with two coffees, the usual morning routine, one for herself and one for Carr. Ah you know, just some angst but with a happy ending cuz otherwise I die 🥲 like truly.
Loved this request <3333 (angst with happy endings are the bomb)
