nolite te bastardes carborundorum

Thank you so much for asking ♡

7) Have any tattos?

No, not yet, but I'd love one someday. I'm still not sure what to go for, but I'm definitely not opposed to the idea.

17) Someone you miss

Well, I'd say my grandpa. It's been a few years since he passed away but sometimes, when I think about him, the memory of him, everything we did together, his personality and kind soul are still so fresh to me and that's why I'll probably never stop missing him. Besides he often appears in my dreams, so I suppose the feeling is mutual ☾ (kidding lol)

44) A random fact about anything

I haven’t been writing in a while and I honestly don’t know if this is any good (probably not), but I recently finished The Handmaid’s Tale and it’s been sitting in my head ever since.

Also, knowing that the Supreme is coming back made me want to write something with her again, so here we are.

It’s a bit messy, probably a bit nonsensical too, but it’s just me trying to get back into writing at a slow pace and seeing what comes out of it.

⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅∙∘☽༓☾∘∙•⋅⋅⋅•⋅⋅

I always come back

When you stepped through the door, Cordelia  crossed the room so fast, you barely had time to say her name. 

“Oh thank God,” she finally felt as if she could breathe again, when she hugged you. 

“Hello Cordelia,” you breathed out, but there was a genuine smile forming on your face. A relieved one. 

“You’re back,” she gave you one more squeeze before pulling away. Her hands found your shoulders, then traveled up to your face. “You’re back to me,” she repeated, her cheeks rosy from all the emotion. 

“Course I am,” you said, keeping her gaze. “Did you think I wouldn’t?” There was a hint of playfulness in your tone. 

As first response Cordelia let out a quiet chuckle. Carefully, she took off your bonnet, letting your hair loose again. 

“I couldn’t have,” she said, shaking her head. “I could never give up on hope when it’s about you,” she leaned in once again, nose brushing the tip of yours. It made you smile in the most adorable way in the eyes of Cordelia. “But that place… Gods, it scares me to death.” 

“Yeah. It scares me too,” the admission came out in a soft whisper. “One would think it gets better but it really doesn’t. And it never will.” 

Cordelia saw you closing your eyes, as if trying to push away the hurt that place caused you. 

“Hey…” The Supreme caressed your cheek. “What is it?” 

Not wanting to worry her pointlessly, you simply shrugged it off. 

But Cordelia couldn’t easily be fooled. She fixed you with the softest look. “Don’t do that. Talk to me,” she pleaded. 

“It’s just… Gilead,” you finally said. “That place’s fucked up,” you dragged a hand over your face. “People have lost their minds. They are blinded by a faith they decided to rewrite and interpret in their own sick and disgusting way,” you felt your throat close up. All those bodies displayed on the wall as a reminder of what disobedience leads to, all those women in red, forced on their knees, to sweep away the blood of their own sisters, manipulated and abused, stripped of their dignity and name. “I can’t believe they think that is the way of God. That any God would want that.” 

Silence stretched between you two for a moment. 

Cordelia had watched you return from Gilead many times. Some trips ended better than others, but the outcome was always the same in one respect, because each journey took something from you. 

She had seen it in your eyes- the change, the exhaustion and hopelessness. 

Her jaw tightened as guilt coiled around her throat. Every mission, every time you stood before her, prepared to leave and kiss her goodbye, she had known the risks. 

And still, she had let you go. She had given her permission.

“I know, baby. I know,” her voice dropped to something softer. Broken. Mortified. “It’s awful. There are no words for it, really and there shouldn’t be, because nothing they do can be defined by human words. There’s nothing humane about that place.” Her gaze held yours, as she leaned forward until her forehead rested against yours. 

“You don’t have to go back, you hear me?” Her lips brushed your eyebrow, lingering there for a moment. “You have done more than enough.” 

You hesitated, but she didn’t. 

“You deserve a break,” she went on. “Stay with me. I could use your help here.” 

Your chest tightened because that’s all you wanted, though the sense of responsibility within you told you it wasn’t possible. “Word got out, Delia. I-I promised to come back to collect more of them. They count on me. I can’t just—“ 

“Yes you can!” The interruption was immediate. Urgent. “Someone else can go. I don’t expect you to do every rescue operation. It wasn’t the plan.”

“But I already know the District like the back of my hand,” you pulled away a bit. “It’d take weeks to train another witch just to memorize all of it. The handmaids know my face. They trust me.” 

The Supreme felt her heart twisting in her chest. “The handmaids know your face…” she echoed. “Sweetheart, you can’t go back.”

You frowned. “What are you saying?” 

Only now Cordelia took her time to properly look at you. Your features, your form. You were… pale-ish, skinnier, physically fried. God knew how much magic you used to keep yourself and the handmaids in disguise enough to pass through. 

This had to stop. 

“Listen to me,” her voice trailed off, desperate for you to understand. “The more people recognize your face, the more danger you’re putting them in. If they become targets because what they have in common is you, then sooner or later the government will use them to get to you.”

You blinked slowly, as you processed her words. Then stuttered out. “It won’t come to that…” 

Cordelia’s gaze welled up. “Sweetheart, please. The Commanders aren’t stupid.” 

You wanted to say otherwise, but you decided against interrupting your girlfriend during such a heated moment. 

“Sooner or later they are going to stop wondering how these women keep disappearing and start asking who is taking them.” 

You averted your gaze, running a hand through your hair. “I can’t just stop.”

“You know what happens when a handmaid is tortured to tell the truth.” 

You hated that she had a point. “Delia…”

“No.” Cordelia shook her head, unwilling to back down. 

She needed to do this. She needed to protect you. 

“You were supposed to come back a week ago, remember? Do you even have the slightest idea of how hard it is for me? To watch you go every time without knowing you’ll actually make it back?” 

“We knew what we were getting into when we started to fight!” You shot back. “It’s not that I enjoy going there. All I’m trying to do is be of help and you know it!”

“I never wanted this for you,” she snapped, her hands taking your shoulders, gripping them tightly.“I never approved of you going there.”

“You weren’t so opposed when our sisters had their turn.” 

She clenched her jaw, then. “You’re not them.” 

You wrinkled your nose, understanding where this conversation was going. You stepped back. “Don’t do this, Cordelia. Don’t make the mistake of putting me above them just because I’m your girlfriend.” 

Cordelia scoffed a breathy laugh. “You think that’s what this is? For months I’ve watched you throw yourself into those rescue missions over and over again.” 

She sounded so scared, you felt so little. 

“Every time you leave, I tell myself you’ll come back, but then it happens that you’re late… and I wonder,” her  voice cracked a fraction. 

She was so close to tears, you reached up and cupped her face. “Shh, it’s okay. I understand. I’m sorry,” you soothed. “I don’t want you to think I take this lightly. I hate that you feel this way while I’m gone. It’s unfair a-and awful. I promise I get it.”

Cordelia closed her eyes, letting out a heavy sigh. “I don’t think you do.” She softened her tone. It sounded almost defeated. 

You shook your head, then. “How could I not, when all I can think about is you?” 

Cordelia’s lips twitched in a faint smile as she looked back at you. 

“There you are,” you lifted her knuckles to your lips, leaving gentle kisses there. 

“I just want you safe,” she admitted under her breath. “I hate that you don’t see how much you risk every time you cross the borders…”  

You fixed her with an unimpressed look, before blowing a small raspberry in the air. “Course I do know. I certainly hope you don’t think your girlfriend is stupid, my love. That would be hella offensive.” 

That earned a quiet chuckle out of Cordelia. The sound alone eased your heart in the best possible way. “That’s not what I meant.”

“I know,” you replied fondly. God, you so desperately wanted to kiss her, but doing so now felt hurried. Maybe in a couple of minutes. “Do you wanna know my secret?” You later asked, quirking an eyebrow. 

The way Cordelia knit her brows together made you squirm inside. Goodness gracious, she was absolutely gorgeous. “Your secret?” 

“Yeah! For always coming back in one piece,” you clarified. 

Cordelia huffed out a short laugh. You were so silly sometimes. “Go ahead. Tell me your secret.” 

You tilted your head to the side, and crossed your arms with a proud smirk. “It’s you.” 

The Supreme blinked in disbelief for a moment. Stunned, moved, suddenly too emotional to form a thought. 

“You don’t get it, do you?” You added gently. “When I reach out inside myself and I find the strength to do things that I never imagined I’d do, I realize it’s because of you.” 

“Baby…” The Supreme lowered her face, then when she looked up at you once again, it was through wet lashes. “You think too highly of me. You’re incredible, yes, but not because of me. It’s all you.” 

Your skin felt all hot and tingly when Cordelia pressed forward. 

“I still beg to differ,” you quipped. 

She chuckled, deep down knowing that arguing with you was a losing game. 

“I love you, Dee. Gosh I’d do quite anything for you. I’m doomed.”

Cordelia leaned forward and brushed your noses together. “I love you, too. So much.” 

Your knees went weak right away at her whispered confession. 

“And boy, I’ve missed you,” Cordelia breathed out, her mouth merely an inch from yours. Your eyes dropped there, as you unconsciously licked your lips. “I never want to feel this way again, you hear me?” 

A whimper escaped you, the moment Cordelia pressed her lips against yours. Slow and steady. Delicate, but also heatedly. You knew there was more talking to be done about this, but for now you brushed it aside. 

God, you’d missed her too. 

“I’ve missed you, too,” your voice carried the same pain and meaning. “Always. Constantly.” 

“My darling girl,” Cordelia lowered her head, pressing a trail of lingering kisses along your jaw and beneath your chin. “My hero.” 

“I uh…” Your thoughts scattered. Heat rushed to your lower abdomen, when she nipped at your pulse point. “I really need to take this cloak off. Take a bath, before we—“ a pause. “I feel so… dirty.”

A faint giggle slipped out of Cordelia as she pulled back enough to look at you. “Mhm, you do have some mud in your hair, actually,” she teased. 

You wrinkled your nose at that. “I’m surprised it’s only mud.”

Then Cordelia’s eyes widened in slow motion. The realization that maybe, under that cloak, your body showed signs of three weeks of survival in that forsaken place, made her stomach churn. How had she not thought about that sooner?

“Ah ah, no, I know that look,” Cordelia was almost pouting, making your heart ache. “Stop worrying, Dee. I’m right here. I’m fine.” You reassured. 

The Supreme arched an eyebrow, almost offended. “I’ll be the judge of that.” 

You rolled your eyes. “Bossy.” 

“I’d say responsible,” she corrected you, though the corners of her mouth betrayed her. She even ruffled your hair, probably a way to assess you were actually there with her. That you were back. 

“Or you’re just a big softie,” you teased, smiling at her. 

She nudged your side with a soft giggle. “Maybe also that.” Her hand slid from your hair to your wrist, fingers curling around yours, with her thumb immediately tracing soft patterns over your skin. “Come on,” she murmured. “Let me take care of you.”

You melted at the feeling. 

So gentle. So patient. So like Cordelia. 

Cordelia saw it immediately. That flicker of vulnerability in your eyes, but decided against drawing attention to it. 

God only knew what else those three weeks had taken from you. 

That’s what Xena asked Gabrielle in one of the moments that was meant to be among their last together. If only little old me had known! (I’m not weeping, no). Looking back on it now, that line feels incredibly vulnerable. It reveals a side of Xena we rarely got to see, not the stoic warrior, not the hero, but a woman who is tired to constantly looking for trouble. I think, by that point, Xena had begun to realize that wandering forever in search of the next fight wasn’t doable…not when the person she loved most in the world was risking her life beside her every single day. There’s something deeply moving about that realization. About the face she makes and that hope in the eyes. Hope of someone that maybe can truly leave everything behind and be normal. (It took her long enough, I know!). For perhaps the first time, Xena was thinking about a future. And it sucks we didn’t get to see that. That’s why I love to interpret that question as her own quiet version of, “Settle down with me.” Something bolder would have been “Marry me”, but you know…