#and putting words around something ive only ever been able to describe in vague feelings and handwavey gestures

[yesimwriting]

Falling Angels: chapter two

A/n took me longer to get around to writing part 2 than i thought!! i didn’t know there was an audience for this idea but im glad you guys liked it!!

Im adding a country to the grishaverse to make my story work,, def not a big deal i just needed a country in which i could control the history of without worrying about conflicting with cannon lol 

Link to part one: https://www.tumblr.com/blog/view/yesimwriting/652318577650696192 (lmk if this works ive never linked something to a tumblr post lol)

Series Summary: Y/n is a rising star in the most famous circus in Ketterdam because of her ability to see the future. Unfortunately for her, Kaz Brekker knows more of her backstory than he should, and he’s willing to use that to his advantage. The one thing he’s not betting on? That he doesn’t know her entire story

Chapter summary: Y/n gets a visitor before getting tricked into the most dangerous show of her life. 

Pairng: SOC x reader, Kaz Brekker x sunshine-y! Psychic! Reader 

--

My father seemed to love me more after two glasses of something amber. It was after these two glasses that he would tell me realities his inebriated self believed I needed to internalize. He’d pat my head affectionately and smiled at me as he told me that the world was a bad place. Most of his lessons are lost in my mind, but the one I remember most clearly is that there’s no such thing as a kept secret. There’s always a leak or a flaw or a factor you could not account for. He told me that if I wanted to keep a secret, I would have to decide what I was willing to risk for it. 

I know from Seria’s reaction to his presence that listening to Kaz is a risk, but it’s a risk I’m willing to take for my secret. “I don’t know what you think I am, but you’re mistaken.” It doesn’t really matter that he believes me. I have the paperwork I need to disprove him. “I have to get to my tent.” 

“The princess gets her own tent?” His words are saturated by mock casualness but I can feel his pride on how he delivered that line. 

My body is still tense from balancing over flames and his confidence only adds to my desire to unravel. I can’t get angry here. Not at him. Not with the way he grips that cane of his. “I don’t understand what--” 

“You may be able to play pretend here where no one wants to look twice at you, but I know what you are.” His stiffness leaves my skin prickling. “I know who you are.” 

I swallow back my panic. “Then who am I?” 

“You’re that king’s bastard--the one with a high bounty on her head.” Don’t back down. Even the smallest crack will confirm his story. “As long as she’s returned alive.” 

Thoughts of what my father would do to me if ever given the chance strike me with more anxiety than his presence does. “I’ve heard of the girl you’re talking about,” I admit, the lie leaving me as easily as the air leaves my lungs when I exhale. “But I’m not her.” 

“You’re not from Ketterdam, if you were you would have known who I was after you friend referred to me as Dirtyhands.” I have no defense, but I never claimed to be from Ketterdam. “You make your business claiming to be a psychic.” I am a psychic, but now is not the time to make that argument. “Elkosa is a relatively small and self efficient port kingdom, the island is nothing more than a jagged coastline barely larger than Ketterdam, but I have connections in all places.” He knows someone from Elkosa? I have to fight the instinct to move all of my weight on the balls of my feet, prepared to run. “A captain of the royal fleet told me the story of the night the King’s bastard ran into the meeting room the night before ten ships were meant to sail to Ravka.” 

He studies my reaction as I struggle to keep my expression blank. “None of that seems connected.” 

“Patience is a virtue most Saints are familiar with.” I roll my eyes. “The bastard couldn’t have been more than nine at the time, but the guards did not want to let her in. The King told them to let her interrupt. The sailor noted this because he had never made an exception to his meeting before. The girl described a nightmare to her father, a nightmare of a storm and ten dead birds. The king did not comfort her, she finished her story by saying that he asked to know about all of her dreams. She went back upstairs and the King continued the meeting as normal but the next day the King cancelled the trip.”

I remember that night as the night I realized that if I’m not careful, I’ll feel what I see in my visions. It felt like I was drowning. I felt the death of each of those men and instead of comforting me, my father nodded once like I had offered him advice and sent me back to my room. “And?” My defense is weak, my mind too lost in the memories of drowning. “Many smaller countries are superstitious.” 

“The next day the worst storm to have impacted that ocean occurred. For four nights and three days the storm continued.” 

I press my nails into my palms. “You don’t believe that I am precognitive, so that sailor’s unverified story has nothing to do with me.” 

“A princess that can see the future disappears at the same time a failing circus hires a girl who has no business in this city who claims to be able to see the future.” He adjusts his stance, taking pressure off the cane as if he’s preparing to need to use it for something else. “I am not fool enough to believe in coincidence.” 

“And I am not fool enough to crack beneath the vague threats of a man. In my experience, men always threaten with a blade when really all they’re in possession of is a butter knife. Try to drag me from here kicking and screaming, find a way to incapacitate me and put me on a ship to Elkosa, but when the King sees that you brought him a stranger he will have your head.” 

He blinks, expression hard as stone. I tense, preparing for a physical blow. “I didn’t expect you to be a half-decent liar, but I should have.” I bite my tongue to avoid resorting to something I can’t take back. Like begging. “Even if it’s in only half your blood.” 

“I am not her.” My stubbornness burns more than the need to survive. I inhale, hoping to shake the grasp of the sensation but it only worsens. The pinch of dread in my chest is heavy and familiar. A vision. 

No. Not now--not in front of him. I push against it even though I know that only makes it worse. Not now. Not now. I should be grounding myself but all I can think about is how stupid I am and how bad this situation is.

--

“I’m not an idiot, I know to be quiet. I see myself crouched somewhere dark. 

“Being defensive doesn’t make you any more intelligent.” It takes me a minute to recognize Kaz in the darkness. 

We’re somewhere small, our backs against the same wall but our shoulders do not touch. This vision is enshrouded by the feel of panic. 

This other me grimaces, but her eyes lack anger, “Remind me why I agreed to help you again?” 

“You never told me why,” he admits, “you can change your mind on participating and I can change my mind on whether or not you're more useful than your father’s money.”

Something loud crashes from behind the door we’re both staring at. “You’ll have no use for me or my father’s money if we die here.” I squeeze my hands together. 

He hesitates, “My ghost will.” 

The future-me almost smiles. “I wonder if I’ll be able to see ghost futures.” I hesitate, something strange behind my eyes. “I wonder if that can exist, if there’s a future beyond endings.” 

Future-Kaz is silent for a long second. “There should be,” he says, “for someone like you, at least.” 

I watch the way I take in his words. “You’d be there, too,” my voice is low, “your ghost at least.” I turn my head, staring at the door instead of him, “If you weren’t, I’d miss the brooding.” 

--

The vision leaves me with sweaty palms and swirling thoughts. All of my visions do that. Not all of them make me feel so confused. Apparently, he needs help and I agree to do so. At one point we’ll be pushed into a life or death situation and I won’t loathe him. 

I blink twice, forcing myself to hold onto the reality in front of me. I don’t have to agree--the future isn’t set in stone. For all I know tomorrow morning I’ll have a vision in which he kills me. 

“Are you ignoring me?” 

Shaking my head, I turn to face him. “You need help.” I don’t wait for his reaction. “You’re not here to return someone to the King of Elkosa, you’re here because you need someone that can see the future.” 

“I--” 

“It’s not that you won’t take me to Elkosa, it’s that you’d rather use my abilities for something.”

I’m confusing him again, but that’s okay. I’d rather deal with him confused than angry. “I need to know how a certain business deal of mine is going to be worth what it costs.”

He’s spent the entire time claiming he doesn’t believe in my power. Was that some kind of tactic? In the vision I saw, despite the panic surrounding the situation I didn’t feel panicked around him. The probability of that future occurring is probably low. I’ve been wrong before, the future changes too much for me to know everything. 

“That’s not how readings work,” I admit, “I don’t have that much control on them. Most of them come to me randomly. The events I see always involve me or someone I care about to a certain capacity. I can give someone a general glimpse into their future but I can’t promise I’ll see what they want. Sometimes I can see the general vision by just focusing on their energy but usually I need some physical contact for it to work.” That seems like a fair explanation. “Oh--and not all of my predictions come true, most are blurry, few are solid--the future is always moving.” 

Wait...the vision I saw where I was with Kaz wasn’t blurry. Those can be wrong, but it’s much rarer. Do I really agree to this? 

“Then maybe I should make it involve you.” His aggression has me forcing myself to stand my ground. He can threaten me all he wants but that won’t change things. “Or take the money your father would give me and cut my losses.” 

Every time I’ve purposefully destroyed a solid vision, something bad has happened. I’m genuinely considering it. “What do you need a psychic for, anyways?” 

“To get through the Fold.” 

Despite everything, I laugh. “I’ve never seen anyone get through the Fold, literally or in my visions.” 

He’s unphased by my doubt. “It’s happened.” 

I really don’t want to help him. “Well then good luck, I’m happy to part ways here.” 

I manage one step forward before he moves his cane in front of my path. I’m getting tired of this. “You’re assisting me one way or the other, whether that aid will be financial or through your services is up to you.” 

Anger pinches in my stomach the way it often does when I’m told what to do. The one thing centering me is the vision still reflecting in my thoughts. There’s no denying it--I had felt comfortable with him. There is a future in which I feel comfortable with him and I’m not sure I’ll be able to avoid it. 

“I won’t get in trouble for you,” I tell him, “The Ringmaster holds onto those indentured to him, especially the commodities that bring him profit.” 

There’s something stiff about his silence. I wonder if he’s always like this, pushing the weight of his presence onto those around him without saying a word. “When I have a goal, it is achieved. I’ll speak to him.” 

I cannot imagine a conversation I want to be involved in less. The Ringmaster and this man that Seria had labeled ‘Dirtyhands’. “I just had a vision--I saw your entire conversation and it ends with you missing an arm.” His stoic expression does not shift. “Okay, I’m aware that it wasn’t the funniest joke, but throw me a bone--you threatened to kidnap me and sell me to my father in order to extort me and I’ve been nothing but polite to you.” 

He’s quiet for a moment, something in his expression changing in a way I can’t read. “All you’ve done is lie since the moment you started to speak to me.” 

The optimist in me would like to think that his annoyance counts for banter. I shrug, feeling a little lighter than I did a second ago. I’m certainly not comfortable but I’m starting to see how to put up with the tension without letting it strain me. “Well, polite for my standards.” 

I let him brood. “You must have done well as a royal.” 

My past cuts through the peace I managed to grab onto. It’s not his fault, he has no way of knowing what the castle was like for me. I open my mouth, but I don’t know what I’m going to say. “I had my moments,” I finally settle on, hoping the echo of pain isn’t visible behind my eyes. 

I guess it doesn’t matter if he sees me bleed. He’s heartless, and I hate sympathy. 

“Y/n,” Seria’s voice is genuine anger, “You’ve turned into an idiot--first the tightrope walk and now entertaining whatever deal he’s trying to coax from you.” I love Seria, she’s the reason I didn’t die in the street when I first arrived in Ketterdam, but she sees me as a mindless child. “Whatever he told you, whatever he promised you--it’s a lie.” 

“He hasn’t promised me anything.” I need to calm her down. Once she’s calm, everything will be normal again. “And he knows.” I don’t have to turn to feel the way Seria gapes at me. “He knows who I am, so I have to do what he wants.” 

“You never have to do anything a man is forcing onto you, y/n. We’ll find a way--” 

“Seria, it’s fine,” I reach to touch her arm, “I’ll be fine, you can’t protect me from everything and you don’t have to.” 

Kaz throws a pointed glare at the man who was with him earlier. When did the stranger get here? “Boss, she’s faster than she looked, but I have what we need to get the girl--” 

“You’re late,” Kaz sighs, bored, “she’s agreed.” 

Wait--what was he going to do if I didn’t agree? “Out of curiosity, what are you talking about?” The man blinks twice, squeezing a rag between his ring-clad fingers. “You were going to use chloroform to kidnap me, weren’t you?” 

For some reason I don’t understand, the stranger gives me a look that’s a cross between sheepish and charming. “Nothing personal.” 

“Or original.” 

Seria pinches my arm. “Y/n,” she scolds, “your sense of humor is going to kill me one of these days.” 

I cringe, pulling my arm away. “When I met you, you were pickpocketing in the pleasure district, please remember that.” 

She rolls her eyes. “An attitude like that is going to leave you without a place to sleep at night.” 

I take her comment for the empty threat it is. Every other day she’s threatening to kick me out of her private trailer so that I’m forced to fight for cots or speak to the Ringmaster about my lodging arrangements. He’d give me what I want, but speaking to him feels so slimy I’d sleep in the woods before trying it. 

“Kaz.” I turn my head in time to see the girl that gave me the advice about the tightrope walker. “We need to go, he’s coming soon--you’ll do better to speak to him in the morning after she’s gone, that way he has nothing to hold over your head.” 

“Once I’m gone?” The girl had called me a Saint. I can appeal to her. “I’m not--I’m not going anywhere, I said I’d help.” 

Her eyes widen, sympathy reflected clearly in her dark irises. “There was never a version of this in which you ended up staying here.” I hear a hint of apology in her voice. “You won’t believe me, but I promise this will be better for you.” All of her pity is gone with those, replaced by something hard.

Seria responds for me, “I think you should go.” 

“What?” 

She almost smiles, but her eyes are painfully sad. “I never wanted you to be here forever. I don’t trust these people, but I trust their ability to get you out of here, even if only for a little while. Bad things are coming, and I think you’ll miss the worst of it if you go now.” 

What she alludes to is a blade in my heart. “You want me to leave you here to deal with it?” 

“Y/n, I’ve been hurt here more times than I can count--”

“No, I won’t leave y--” 

Seria squeezes my shoulder, “It’s not forever.” When she wants something, it’s almost impossible to get around it. “Besides, if I need you, you’ll see it.” 

My world feels to have lost the vibrance of color. I’ve left so much, but I let myself believe I wouldn’t leave her. I pull her into the hug. “The moment I see a vision of you in any type of danger, I’m coming back.” I hug her even tighter when she tries to pull away so that I can whisper something in her ear, “I’ll use this opportunity to leave the Ringmaster and then I’ll get you out, and together we’ll leave Ketterdam. We’ll find your child, like you always wanted to and they’ll know that they're lucky because they’re the only kid in the world to have you as a mother.” 

She squeezes me so tightly I find it hard to take full breaths. “Two,” Seria whispers, “I have two children.”

My eyes burn as her words find their way into my heart. “I love you, Seria.” 

“I love you too, my star,” she pulls away enough so that I can look her in the eye, “you don’t like being called a Saint, but I can’t think of anyone more deserving of the title.” 

Tears prick my eyes as she releases me. “I’ll find you.” 

“He’ll be coming soon,” the girl warns, “He spoke to an advisor about wanting to find you after the show.” 

No doubt to praise the fire stunt he forced onto me. Bastard. I nod once but I don’t move. I can’t bring myself to leave Seria until the girl places a hand on my elbow. 

--

Falling Angels Taglist: @glowstick-lesbian @cashlum @whatiswrongwithpeople @pass-me-jeez-it @thecraziestcrayon

#six of crows #six of crows fic #six of crows netflix #six of crows show #soc imagine #soc #soc x you #soc fic #kaz brekker #kaz brekker x reader #kaz brekker imagine #kaz brekker x you #shadow and bone #shadow and bone spoilers #grisha #shadow and bone fanfic #shadow and bone fic #shaodw and bone x reader #Grishaverse #grishaverse x reader

[bringingglory]

thank you so much for the tags @hanamuri @fullmetalscullyy @megthemighty @nightofnyx8 @tsaritsa !

How many works do you have on AO3? 11! some are botw, one is tdiapt, some are fma, and some are haikyuu! i mostly just write for whatever im interested in at the moment/whichever fandom inspiration strikes for

What's your total AO3 word count? 101,939

What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

Keep Your Friends Closer But Your Enemies Closer - T: ahhhh my miraculous ladybug fic! ive literally been working on her for FOREVER and i swear to god im going to finish it, i literally know how i want to end it and i know all the events leading up to it. hell, i even have a vague idea of what i want to happen in the middle, i just need to know what order the middle stuff happens in and also i just have to write it. It's an AU where Ladybug and Chat Noir are actually enemies but then Chat Noir accidentally befriends Marinette and then drama etc etc etc.

rain - G: first zelink fic babey! set Pre-Calamity and basically link and zelda get stuck in a cave because of the rain and there's just a lot of quiet pining, etc etc.

Your Friendly Neighborhood Oikawa - T: HAHAHA this was a crack fic inspired by my roommate but then i forgot it was supposed to be a crack fic while writing it and there are accidentally real emotions alkjdfalksdf but anyway it was very fun to write lmao. it was based off this meme and basically it's an AU where Oikawa is Spider-Man and Iwaizumi doesn't know but they still like hang out and stuff. It's a lot of fun, or at least I think it is, haha.

stolen moments - T: first royai fic!!! just a series of "stolen moments" (mic drop) where roy and riza like cant be together but yknow, they try. lots of pining. etc

a secret weapon of sorts - T: 5+1 edwin fic inspired by the Simple People OVA where instead of ed giving winry earrings to get out of trouble, he gives her kisses.

Do you reply to comments, why or why not? Yes! I try really hard to!!! Sometimes I get overwhelmed and I don't respond to comments for a while, but I absolutely do my best to when I remember because I feel like it's my way of saying "thank you" for them reading my fics in the first place, haha.

What's the fic you've written with the angstiest ending? Uhhhhh, sleepless I guess? But it's more open-ended/not explicitly positive more than anything, though even then I feel like I've got a hint of hope in there. alkjdfhalsdk idk man I just, I can't write *pure* angst, there's gotta be some light, and thus I could never end anything angstily

What's the fic you've written with the happiest ending? LMAO most of my fics??? I guess??? bc despite being an anxious piece of shit, I am an optimist by heart

Do you write crossovers? If so, what's the craziest one you've ever written? When I was younger! Idk, I guess the Rise of the Brave Frozen Tangled Dragons fandom??? if anyone remembers what that is lmao

Have you ever received hate on a fic? Not exactly? Maybe some weird comments on KYFCBYEC but even then, it wasn't that often.

Do you write smut? If so, what kind? No no no no no no no no. I am telling you, I physically cannot write smut. I don't think I actually have the capacity. Absolute fucking kudos to every single smut writer out there bc it truly is an art form capturing that intimacy and emotion and etc, but I literally get flustered from writing mildly detailed kiss scenes. If I ever wrote smut, I would burst into flames on the spot.

Actually lies, I technically wrote smut once, but it was at the request of my roommates and they wanted me to write a crack smut fic of Y/N x our uni's mascot and I wrote that thing in like 3 hours with so many silly memes to keep myself sane (not like other girls, tongues battled for dominance, etc), did not edit it, and because it was so, like, not serious, I was actually able to get through it. But even then, when I wrote "thrusting" I literally had to put my laptop down for 20 minutes.

Have you ever had a fic stolen? Nope!

Have you ever had a fic translated? Not yet! Someone commented on Your Friendly Neighborhood Oikawa and asked if they could translate it and I said yes! They haven't gotten around to it yet, but I would love to see it if they do!

Have you ever co-written a fic before? Not yet!

What’s your all-time favourite ship? Bro it changes day to day. You can't ask me this lmao. The current ship I'm most fixated on is Iwaoi, but I wouldn't say they're my all-time favorite.

What’s a WIP that you want to finish but don’t think you ever will? I'm not answering this energy. On god, I'm going to finish things. I want to.

What are your writing strengths? uhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh very good question lmao. I don't really like thinking about "strengths" in my writing bc who am I to say? akjdslakfjdf idk, instead, I'm just gonna say some things I like/try to do in my writing, which are: conversational prose/having a lot of voice in the narration, I try to add humor wherever I can, and recently I've gotten better and metaphors and describing things bc I picked up writing poetry a year ago!

What are your writing weaknesses? hmmm, a thing I dislike about my writing/the writing process is that I'm slow to publish things and slow to finish things because I'm such a messy first drafter and I also take forever to edit. I would like to uhhhhh get things out faster. Also I tend to repeat myself a lot bc I forget the details of things I write sometimes lmao.

What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic? Hmmm, I dunno, I guess I don't have any strong thoughts? The only other language I know is Mandarin but even then, I suck ass at that, so I'll prolly never write dialogue in another language simply bc I like to try to portray things semi-realistically and I don't think I have a good enough grasp on any other language the same way I do in English to produce authentic enough dialogue.

What was the first fandom you wrote for? Fablehaven I guess? But Idk I was in fourth grade an didn't even know what fandom was yet. Rise of the Guardians, maybe?

What’s your favourite fic you’ve written?

AHHHH idk??? maybe hold your hand out in the dark because i really experimented with my writing on that one and im sort of proud of the result, just like the fact that i wanted to try something new and it turned out alright. that or Sunset Wheeling which is an iwaoi fic where they just skate, and like it's prolly one of the most self-indulgent things i've ever written because it's silly and they just. skate. but aljdfalsjd idk i loved it and i churned it out in 6 days and it was a lot of fun lol

ahhh a bunch of people have been tagged already, so sorry if im tagging you again, but for now im just gonna tag @niconiconina @notkorras @thatisadamnfinecupofcoffee @firewoodfigs and anyone else who wants do it!

[gl211]

Glory

I feel like I need a disclaimer. I adore/adored McDreamy. There wasn’t a bigger MerDer fan than me. And I love the fact that they brought Patrick back for the dream sequences. BUT, we know they can’t live on the dream island forever. And I really like Hayes. Last season, I finally saw the spark of something that was missing with all of Meredith’s other pairings. Plus, the “I’m here. It’s okay. Don’t worry.” REALLY got me straight in the feelings. So with that, I give you this one-shot.

“Grey. Grey? Can you hear me?”

She felt what could be described as an elephant on her chest as she gasped, opening her eyes slowly.

Where am I?

She was lying on the ground, she knew that. She fully opened her eyes to see Cormac Hayes hovering over her. She couldn’t read his expression behind his mask, but his eyes were screaming.

Derek. Where did Derek go?

She heard Hayes shouting as more people were suddenly around her, an oxygen mask being placed on her face. She tried to sit up, as multiple hands kept her body in place. She felt Hayes’s hands on her face, keeping her head in place.

“It’s okay. Don’t try and move.”

She was dying.

That’s why Derek was there.

This was it.

She’d survived this much and all the impossible scenarios life had thrown at her. And yet, here she was. She was going to die in the hospital parking lot. From a virus that could’ve been prevented.

Her kids. All three of them flashed through her mind, chest feeling ten times heavier as the situation weighed on her.

They didn’t deserve to lose two parents. To be alone.

Her gasp turned into a guttural sob. She felt Cormac’s fingers gently, soothingly stroking her head. He continued to hold her in place, gently reassuring her. She felt herself push against whomever was holding her hands, her hand frantically wrapping around his wrist.

“I’m here. I’m right here.”

She felt tears slip out of her eyes, a heavy breath laboring her breathing. She shut her eyes as she heard the wheels of the gurney screech closer.

“I know. It’s okay. Just stay with me.”

She felt movement as her body was shuffled from the concrete to the stretcher, she felt a backboard sliding under her and a neck brace being placed as the group around her was suddenly running into the hospital. She locked eyes with Hayes, who was shouting, as they ran, his hand moving to nudge Meredith, to keep her awake. Her felt heavy, her eyes involuntarily slipping closed, accepting her unconscious fate.

“I miss you.”

“I know.”

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

The next time she opened her eyes, Owen was standing over her in full PPE. Sounds around her were muffled. Oddly, it felt like the time she ruptured her eardrums. Like everything was moving slowly and quietly.

Suddenly her train of thought snapped back into place. She grabbed Owen’s wrist stalling his movement.

“Call Cristina... kids... just in case.”

Owen nodded, knowing what she meant but not before placed his gloved hand over hers and squeezing it.

“I’ll call her. But you’re going to be fine.”

Meredith nodded as she looked around the room, she saw Teddy, Owen, Tom, Jackson. She turned her gaze a bit, her neck brace not allowing her to go much further.

She saw Maggie, Richard and Bailey hovering by the window in full PPE. Further away stood Hayes, his eyes locked on her. Her gaze met his before her eyes fluttered close again.

“ Meredith you deserve to be happy. I want you to be happy.”

“What if I’m not supposed to be happy anymore?”

“Mer. You know that’s not true. Look at who you are. The person you’ve become. An award winning, talented surgeon. An amazing mother. You did all of that on your own.”

“Right. By myself.”

“All I’m saying is that maybe you shouldn’t be alone.”

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

Over the course of the next several days, time seemed to blend. They were trying everything on her. Infusions, drugs, anything that has been deemed usable they have tried.

While her breathing was bad, the fever and rigor that followed was worse.

She vaguely remembered Andrew and Maggie in the room on more than one occasion. Bailey had been here, they had talked about DNR’s and her kids.

Jo had sat with her, talking to her, reminding her how many people she had in her corner. Shockingly, she had even called Alex, who called within an hour of being told. She had spoken to him every day via text.

She hadn’t seen Amelia, she was with the kids, but she had FaceTimed  with her. The kids hadn’t been told anything, per Meredith’s request. She didn’t want them told until it was absolutely necessary.

Cristina was grounded on the other side of the globe, but she had spoken with her  three times.

Cormac Hayes was there. Every time she had opened her eyes, he was there.

He was either at the window outside her room or inside. Barely speaking but watching her intently, like she was going to vanish if he left.

With no concept of time, she still knew he hadn’t left the hospital in days.

She sleepily opened her eyes one day to see him looking at her stats on the monitor. She turned her head.

“Hi.”

His head turned at the sound of her voice. In his full PPE, she could see him without his mask. She saw how tired he looked.

“You should go home, sleep.”

He shook his head as her nasal cannula slipped a bit. He carefully approached the bed and gestured towards her as she nodded. He carefully adjusted it, slipping her mask right below it.

“Your kids. Go home.”

He shook his head staying at the edge of the bed as he adjusted the blanket around her.

“They’re staying with their aunt outside the city for now.”

She nodded as he sat in the chair next to her bed.

“Your levels are up a bit. And the fever is down. That’s a good thing.”

Meredith nodded, clearly not convinced. She smoothed the blanket out in her lap, pulling at the threads.

“I keep seeing Derek. And I know if I keep seeing him, that can’t be a good thing. And part of me wants to give up. Just be done. Stop fighting. Be with Derek.””

It wasn’t something he was used to, seeing Meredith Grey admitting defeat. It wasn’t her. She was tenacious, unapologetic, put 100% into everyone and everything in her life.

“But then I think about my kids. And how much I don’t want them to be alone. And how I don’t want to die. Not like this.”

Her voice broke at the words, tears now freely falling down her face. Within seconds, he could tell her thoughts had shifted drastically to the worst-case scenario. He reached his hand out, gently placing it over hers. Her eyes looked down, her posture crumbling further as everything final hit her.

“I really don’t want to die alone.”

The statement shot him to his core.

“Grey. Hey.”

He tried to urge her to look at him, his hand gently running over hers. The small gesture was doing nothing, the woman in front of him crumbling by the second.

Her monitors were starting to beep with her irregular breaths, her cries only fueling the piercing noise.

“Meredith.”

That seemed to grab her attention for a moment. He hadn’t ever called her by first name. His Irish brogue hitting all the syllables.

The beeping monitors intensified, they were probably moments away from a team of people appearing if she didn’t calm down.

He stood and walked around towards the other side of her bed. Careful to not disrupt any IV or oxygen lines, he carefully sat down in full PPE on the bed.

Meredith, though bordering on hysterical felt the motion and turned her head slightly. He turned on his side, best as he could to face her.

“No one is dying. And no one is alone.”

She cried harder at his remark, his arm snaking around her, his gloved hand intertwined with hers as she gripped it.

‘I’m not leaving you. I’m right here.”

He lost track of how long he laid there next to her, holding her. Eventually her cries settled, her monitors regulated and the grip on his hand loosened ever so slightly.

Several minutes later, he heard her breathing even out, an indication she had fallen asleep. He could’ve left when she fell asleep, probably should’ve given protocols and exposure. But he was a man of his word, no one was going to be alone.

“I love you Derek. I’m always going to love you.”

“I know I love you too. Which is why you have to go back.”

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

A rough 14 days in the hospital and Meredith was finally testing negative. She was officially on a road to recovery and was able to go home.

“Busting out of here?”

She turned to the door as Cormac entered. Standing next to her bed, she organized the limited belongings she had come in with. She placed the photo Maggie had brought of the kids in her bag, her hand lingering on it for a second.

“Are you driving my getaway car?” she joked.

He flashed her a grin, visible under the PPE. Though Meredith was negative, they were still in a COVID ward.

“Figure out your plans yet? Hotel or home?”

Meredith shrugged as she zipped the small tote bag shut, setting it beside her, pulling her sweater tighter around her pajamas,

“Not sure quite yet. I was living here before getting sick. Probably a hotel for a week, make sure I’m really okay. And then home to my kids. And then I’ll be back when I’m cleared for work.”

“Can’t keep you away from this place?”

“Well the hospital does kind of have my name in it.” she said with a grin.

He laughed, grateful that her spunk was back.

“I should thank you.”

“Me?” he questioned.

“You helped get me over the hump. I don’t think I would’ve made it through without you. So, thank you.”

He shook his head modestly stopping her, his hand going up to wave her off.

She can’t say that when Cormac Hayes arrived in Seattle that he was modest, caring or thoughtful. Quite the opposite, actually.

But beneath the rough exterior of armor he tried to keep up, was a thoughtful, selfless person. Who would do just about anything for anyone. Including her.

“No need to thank me Grey. Anyone would’ve.” he replied.

“Yeah. But you’re not just anyone.”

Her eyes twinkled as he smiled back. He felt this indescribable warmth that had gradually crept into him the more time he spent with Meredith. A feeling he didn’t want to go away.

The buzz of his phone brought him back to reality. He could hear and feel it going off in his scrubs pocket. He was being paged back to peds. Admittedly while no one wanted to see a sick child, it was a well needed break from COVID.

“Never ends, Grey.” he said as he nodded towards her, walking towards the door. “I’ll come back later to see you off.”

“Meredith.” she replied as he got to the door.

“Come again?” he questioned.

“You went back to Grey, but it’s Meredith. You’re going to have call me Meredith. Especially if we’re going to eventually get that drink. Masked and outside of course.”

Her eyes sparkled as he grinned back, nodding in response.

“Very well then. I’ll see you later, Meredith.”

She waved as he left, watching as he walked through the area to dispose of PPE.

It was odd to have these spark like feelings for someone other than Derek. But, somewhere in the middle of her hallucinations and her reality, she realized that moving on with someone wouldn’t take away missing Derek. Derek would always be a part of her, she would always love him.

Moving on meant honoring herself, letting her heart be open to someone wanting to care for it.

Moving on meant showing up for herself.  

Her phone chimed as Cristina’s phone call came in. She quickly answered it, pressing it up to hear ear.

“Hi.”

She looked up, meeting Cormac’s gaze, as he waved, signaling he was leaving for now, but would be back.

“How’s everything over there? Yeah, I’m okay. I’m not alone.”

#Meredith Grey #cormac hayes #merhayes #merhayes fanfic

[daaziscoolbesties]

i yearn for one(1) thing only, and that is to have a nice, simplistic, cartoonish artstyle. an artstyle that doesnt rely on anatomy, but the "movement" of the drawing, if you get what i mean.

i dont want realistic proportions and traditional colors and basic poses and gradient shading, i want funky lil dudes in funky poses with funky styles littering my sketchbook :( but alas i havent figured out how to develop that kind of style yet, my brain wants anatomy to look nice but also i dont want to draw eyes. i dont want to take time out of my day to learn how to draw lips i want to draw a line that extends past the characters face. i dont want all my characters to have pointy chins with curved cheeks i want their heads to be round and friend-like or full of sharp edges depending on their personalities and styles. i want to give them all not-quite human ears, blob feet, simple faces, but at the same time i want enough detail to convey the story or emotion im trying to tell.

ive spent so much time recently agonizing over how to use 3d model websites, using real-life references and tracing over them for practice, color-picking from real images to try and do realism and failing miserably, but you know whats easier than that? funky little dudes. little dudes who do not care if their legs are too long or their hair is too bouncy. i dont want my characters to look human.

ive spent enough time on the artfight website to realize that most people who classify their characters as "human" have the most basic ass designs (no offense to people who like basic human designs its just not my thing) or its like dnd-medieval style outfits which i cant draw for the life of me (ive tried). again no offense to people who actively enjoy and draw characters like that. i just need my dudes to have that certain,,, off-ness to them. tails are cool. wings are swag (especially if they arent even like,, fully attached,, ), elf ears are so wonderful to me no matter how much theyre overused, horns are so much fun to draw, and colors!! i have no knowledge in the color theory department so this works great for me!! the only thing i really know is dont shade with black, other than that i just colorpick from references usually but i dont want to do that!! i want the colors to hurt people's eyes but in a satisfying way. like the character's design is so nice to look at that you dont mind your eyes hurting a bit. like how im enjoying writing this post even though its 2 am and the brightness on my computer wont go any lower.

and then another thing ive noticed from being on the artfight website is that a lot of people classify their characters that are anthro/have anthro features under humanoids/monsters. like i made a google form to find some people to attack and someone sent me in a character with some sort of animal (wolf? idk) arms and legs. like dude!! peak character design i love her. but me personally? i cant draw that shit, its so hard for me. i tried a while back and its just Not my thing. nothing against furries i just. cant. and i dont want to either.

and i got another submission that i accidentally deleted that was like full anthro/wolf-like like my comrade,,, i cannot draw animals what makes you think i can draw an animal who acts like a human lmao. i can do like. very basic tails, and also animal ears but i cant do the arms and legs and such i just dont know the anatomy, and i know i was talking about how i dont want to care about anatomy but i feel like for anthros you really do need to know at least basic animal anatomy so you know how the limbs look and shit and i dont have that knowledge and dont feel like gaining it.

and then there were some submissions that i absolutely adored. there was one that like, was vaguely human shaped but definitely was not a human. they had a dark-ish lavender colored skin and horns and tusks and like goat ears and a sorta fluffy tail with spikes on it and they had wings and such and they were such a pleasure to draw i love them. and they had a fairly simple outfit too, nothing too complicated. and then i also enjoy object head characters, theyre so neato to me. i got one of those and i really wish i had the motivation to work on it cause it looks so fun.

i want to make funky characters but id have nothing to do with them because the only book i ever tried writing (key word tried - never got past planning it out) had strictly human characters in it, and most of the books i read are humans/humans with powers in situations specific to them so id have no idea what lore to make with the dudes. assuming i have the motivation to make lore and backstory because honestly i just really enjoy character designing its super duper fun.

(side note a song about trucks doing the deed came on just now and its interrupted my flow, apologies).

i only have three actual characters right now. one is an original roleplay oc whos design is literally athletic shorts, an oversized long sleeved grey sweatshirt, long purple hair, and demon horns. the second one is my persona whos design some sorta medival knight outfit kinda thing? but not ugly it looks really cool (idk one of my friends designed it bc i won some contest from him but the drawing was on a super small scale so idrk the details,,,) with a plague doctor mask and crown, and shoulder length wavy brown hair, dyed bright pink at the end. and then my last one im not too comfortable using other places because theyre a character my friend is using in the story hes writing, and thats really the only place theyve been used. but theyre easily my favorite and im already writing a ton so ill talk about them too.

they're a sorta elf species thing from another planet, with pale green skin and pointed ears. they also have a tail, its like,, super thin, but with a feathery bit at the end. probably not the texture of a feather but i dont know how else to describe it. they have short, curly, almost-draco-malfoy-blonde hair that when it gets too long they can put in a man bun. their eyesight is kinda shitty so when they got to earth, they were exploring some supply closets around the airship. drop off area. thing. like airport but for rocketships and also fancier. yeah. they were exploring that area and found a nice big pair of round glasses with grey frames. and they also found a cowboy-style hat and a sharpie so they wrote their name on the underside of the brim of the hat and stole the hat and glasses (but left the sharpie in the supply closet).

yeah theyre my favorite, my absolute beloved, my child, so cool. i want more characters like them but with maybe a bit more snazzier designs. theyre super cool and all but they could have more pizzazz if they werent in a story where its too late to give them more pizzazz. i just want to be able to give my characters thigh-high boots with a bunch of buckles and fluffy hair with tons of accessories crammed in and abnormally large and long ears that can harbor many piercings and horns that can hold rings on them and special little details on their outfits like who knows what but i dont have any characters to do that too, so i have to make them from scratch, which is always hard especially when you have artblock.

and i also have like 17 characters i need to fully draw, line, and maybe color for artfight before august 1st. so i dont know. i have many things to do and plenty of time to do it but instead i spend my time halfway watching repetitive youtube videos that get boring or sleeping all damn day because i stay up too late doing things like this or i just do nothing at all and its tiring and frustrating but i also feel nothing about it like theres no consequence if i dont do it besides you know. not doing it, not gaining that experience, not making something i enjoy.

so i should do it but i dont for whatever reason, i think its called executive dysfunction but im not sure. this post started out very differently than it ended and i said somewhere up there that i was writing this at 2 am but now its almost 3. this is so many words why couldnt i have put this energy into something productive

#long post #sorry its so messy but like i said its almost 3 am and i dont want to go back and format all this #i might come back and make it look nicer in the morning #maybe not who knows #i just checked and this is 1.5k words what the hell

[c-ptsdrecovery]

“Did it ever get physical?”

This is often the first question we ask someone we know or suspect is in an unhealthy relationship. While starting a conversation around physical abuse is essential, the issue is when it’s the only question we ask.

Stopping short of inquiring about other forms of abuse implies that physical violence is the defining factor of an unhealthy relationship. Even worse, it conveys the message that whatever else might be going on is just “not that bad.”

This is a huge issue, because emotional abuse can absolutely be that bad.

Even if relationship never gets physically abusive, emotional abuse can escalate over time with devastating consequences, even death. And while emotional abuse does not always lead to physical abuse, physical abuse in relationships is nearly always preceded and accompanied by emotional abuse.[i]

Why don’t we hear more about emotional abuse? In addition to the common misconception that it’s just not that serious, many people simply aren’t sure what emotional abuse actually entails.

My aim here is to help you understand what emotional abuse really means and what makes it so dangerous so that you’re better equipped to start the conversation. Because if you want to stop it, you first have to know what you’re dealing with.

Defining Emotional Abuse

Understanding emotional abuse is complicated for many reasons. One reason is because there are several different names used interchangeably to refer to the same kind of abuse, including emotional abuse/violence, psychological abuse/violence, and mental abuse. For simplicity, we’ll use “emotional abuse” going forward.

Another complication is that there isn’t one accepted definition of emotional abuse. It seems that everyone has a slightly different version.

We’ve identified several common threads that make up the most widely accepted definitions and combined them here to create the following description of emotional abuse:

Emotional abuse is any abusive behavior that isn’t physical, which may include verbal aggression, intimidation, manipulation, and humiliation, which most often unfolds as a pattern of behavior over time that aims to diminish another person’s sense of identity, dignity and self worth, and which often results in anxiety, depression, suicidal thoughts or behaviors, and post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD).

Wow, that’s a lot.

Each part of the definition presents its own complications to fully grasping the reality of emotional abuse, so let’s dissect what this really means, piece by piece.

Breaking Down Emotional Abuse

1.“…any abusive behavior that isn’t physical…”

Pretty broad, right? Emotional abuse is difficult to comprehend because it encompasses so much. Just take a look at the non-exhaustive list[ii] below of behaviors that are potentially emotionally abusive:

Intimidation

Manipulation

Refusal to ever be pleased

Blaming

Shaming

Name-calling

Insults

Put-downs

Sarcasm

Infantilization

Silent treatment

Trivializing

Triangulation

Sabotage

Gaslighting

Scapegoating

Blame-shifting

Projection

Ranking and comparing

Arbitrary and unpredictable inconsistency

Threatening harm

Forced isolation

We specify “potentially” abusive behaviors because some of the behaviors on this list could occur in a healthy context as well. Let’s take sarcasm and infantilizing speech, for example. Many people consider sarcasm a key component of a good sense of humor. Many people would also agree that using infantilizing speech as terms of endearment is harmless, for example referring to a significant other as “baby.” However, in the context of emotional abuse where the intent is malicious, these behaviors can be extremely cutting, especially when disguised as affection or an innocent remark. For example, someone who repeatedly tells his or her significant other “My baby is so smart” in a way that’s meant to mock their partner’s intelligence using sarcasm as well as infantilizing speech to make them feel small is a form of emotional abuse.

2. “ …which may include verbal aggression, intimidation, manipulation, and humiliation”

The key word here is “may.” Not only is the list of emotional abuse tactics incredibly long and dependent on context, the particular combination of behaviors that show up, how they show up—whether overtly or covertly—and with what intensity can also vary greatly from relationship to relationship. As a result, we have another layer of complexity: emotional abuse doesn’t have one specific look.

For example, an emotionally abusive relationship where overt aggressing behaviors like yelling, threatening and blaming are predominantly used will look very different from a relationship where only very subtle forms of abuse like gaslighting, passive-aggressive put-downs, and minimizing are used.

3. “a pattern of behavior over time”

Emotional abuse is rarely a single event. Instead, it occurs over time as a pattern of behavior that’s “sustained” & “repetitive.”[iii] This particular characteristic of emotional abuse helps explain why it’s so complicated and so dangerous.

Even if you’re the most observant person in the world, emotional abuse can be so gradual that you don’t realize what’s happening until you’re deeply entangled in its web. As a result, the abuse can go unchecked as the relationship progresses, building for months, years, even decades, especially if the abuse is more covert. In such instances, the target’s self-esteem is steadily eroded and their self-doubt becomes so paralyzing that they often have only a vague sense that something (though unsure what) is wrong.

4. “aims to diminish another person’s sense of identity, dignity, and self-worth”

Regardless of how emotional abuse unfolds, experts agree that it has devastating effects on those who are subjected to it.[iv]

Unfortunately, these effects as well as each harmful act of abuse are largely invisible. This makes it difficult for most people to comprehend the very real risks and damage of emotional abuse.

Let’s demonstrate why. For a moment, try to imagine a scene of physical violence, a fight. Even if you’ve never witnessed or experienced it firsthand, your imagination can probably fill in the picture pretty well. The struggle. The adrenaline and fear. The aftermath of blood, bruises, tears. It’s a painful portrait but likely one that you can envision.

Now, try to picture a scene of emotional abuse, specifically someone whose self-identity has been annihilated. Can you see it?

Chances are your mind doesn’t know where to begin. But if you are able to create a picture of either the acts of abuse or what the damage looks like on the person who experienced it, can you put that image into words?

While describing physical wounds is pretty straightforward, it’s much harder to articulate emotional trauma. The parts of a person that sustained emotional abuse destroys—identity, dignity, and self-worth—are abstract, almost impossible to picture or measure.

5. “results in anxiety, depression, suicidal thoughts or behaviors, and post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD)”

Because emotional abuse is essentially invisible, singling out the abuse as the culprit of its destructive effects is another kind of challenge and frustration.

Even in cases of extreme emotional abuse, there are no bruises or gashes where the victim can point and say, “This cracked rib is from that constant belittling and invalidation” and “That swollen eye and broken lip are from the incessant name-calling and guilt-tripping and pathological lying.” Instead, what emotional abuse ends up looking like is a person suffering from painful yet not uncommon afflictions like anxiety or depression.

It can therefore be heartbreakingly easy for anyone—whether the person inflicting the emotional abuse, a third-party observer, or even the target of the abuse—to misattribute its damage to some other cause like unemployment or family stress or even blame the target’s prior mental state if he or she battled similar issues in the past.

Closing Thoughts

Hopefully this explanation of emotional abuse is as comprehensive as possible, but I recognize that it’s still bound to have gaps due to the complications I’ve just mentioned. Think of it more as a springboard for future conversations and exploration than an all-encompassing definition.

Emotional abuse, like any other form of cruelty, thrives in the darkness when no one understands, discusses, or recognizes it. Use your newfound knowledge and curiosity to shine the light on the risks and devastation of emotional abuse.

A great place to start is with asking the question, “How does that behavior or action make you feel?” or “Did it ever get emotionally abusive?”

#emotional abuse #abuse #mental abuse #verbal abuse #psychological abuse

[gohyuck]

previews

previews of the fics i’m currently working on! find the list here

↳ e2l with theater kid!haechan

You’ve never hated a musical more.

In an effort to ‘generate student interest in the arts’, Neo Culture Tech’s very own Mr. Taeil Moon, head of the fine arts department at what can only be described as a STEM college preparatory school, had put word out that this year’s fall theater show would be an entirely student-produced musical. Whether it was to elevate NCT’s arts up to the level at which they’d have to get the same funding as the robotics team or whether it was to truly cultivate creativity, nobody was sure. Still, the play persisted. From the actual dialogue, to the songs and their composition, to the dances choreography, everything was to be a bona fide effort from students across the school, not just in the theater department. Before anyone could say anything, the band and orchestra students were forced to create and compose scores and songs while the choir kids had to write lyrics for their semester project. The dance team had to choreograph everything and the art students were told they’d be making the posters for the show.

All of this, of course, was to come after the actual play had been written by the students in the Theater IV: Theater Productions class.

If only you’d stayed in Theater III.

↳ falling for single father jaemin

You’ve been sitting across Jaeeun for some time now, keeping her company as she waits for her parents. The rest of the kids who’d attended the library’s weekly craft day have already left, filing out one by one with their guardians in tow. You’re sure it’s been at least fifteen minutes since the last family had left, and you’re hoping that whoever’s responsible for Jaeeun has a good reason for being so late.

While you grow more and more worried, the 4 year old at your side seems unaffected, happily coloring in whatever she’s drawn on the sheet of paper in front of her. There’s random flecks of glitter strewn across it - all you’d managed to salvage after cleaning up the great glitter glue spill of 2020. You glance over at Jaeeun’s paper and find that you can vaguely make out two shapes that look like people, and something that may or may not resemble a heart. Your heart melts ever-so-slightly - it looks like she’s drawn her parents.  

Before you can compliment her on her work, she’s shooting out of her chair like a rocket, bounding towards the front of the room. You stand up, prepared to catch her if she falls, only to find her clinging affectionately to the legs of whoever’s just walked in. You lift your head to meet their gaze and - oh.

Oh no.

He’s hot.

↳ part 2 to king of hearts (detective!jeno) 

[Monday, September 9, 2019 at 11:13 P.M]

“You would’ve found out eventually,” You wring your hands frantically. Jeno’s arm is a comforting presence, wrapped firmly around your waist, though he hasn’t pulled you into his hold yet. You’d pulled the two of you into the evidence closet to discuss - Jaemin had wolf whistled upon seeing you do so - but, so far, had barely been able to string a sentence together in your panic. 

“Found what out?” Jeno’s voice is stable, though you’ve known him long enough to hear the underlying worry.

“It’s probably in the files, nobody’s read them yet, fuck, I swear I didn’t mean to hide it for this long and I would’ve told you in particular eventually and -”

“(Name).” You boyfriend says firmly, reaching to cup your cheek. “Just tell me what it is, and we’ll go from there, yeah?” 

You nod slowly, leaning into his touch, He finally wraps both arms around you, pulling you into his chest. You heave a shuddering breath before trying to speak again.

“The house…” You start, steeling yourself. Jeno runs a soothing hand down your back, doing his best not to rush you. Before you can speak again, you exhale slowly, trying to even out your breathing. Eventually you feel calm enough to speak, and you step back in order to meet Jeno’s eyes with your own. 

“The house the Card Killer broke into in 2002… was my family’s.”

↳ cheater!mark 

johnny

johnny, ever perceptive, is the first one to realize it.

in hindsight, it’s something he should’ve seen earlier, and it’s definitely something everyone else should have caught onto before they did. now, he can pinpoint the exact moment the realization had hit him - the second his stomach felt as if it had turned into a stone pit.

the members of nct 127 always, always have dinner together at least once a week. significant others are encouraged to attend, and it is always what could be considered one big, happy, family event. there’ve never been issues or arguments at one aside from the minor squabbles that come with big groups. nobody seems to have issues with each other.

that’s why it catches johnny’s eye.

it comes and goes in an instant, the way mark brushes aside your fingers with ease, but the image brands itself into johnny’s brain. you yourself don’t seem bothered, likely not even realizing what’s happened as you chatter happily with donghyuck about something or the other - johnny can’t quite bring himself to tune in to the conversation. suddenly, it all makes sense: mark’s recent late nights, the way johnny had noted that your boyfriend no longer smelled like you - “oh, mark, i’ve been meaning to ask - did (name) change perfumes?” “hyung, what? oh - yeah, decided to try something new.” - and the way even you rarely know where he is these days…

by the way he catches you looking over at mark as you pass your boyfriend the salt physically causes his airway to constrict.

you don’t know.

of course you don’t. if you did, you wouldn’t be leaning slightly towards mark, a soft smile gracing your features. johnny swallows down the rising bile in the back of his throat.

the question comes to johnny before he can dispel his thoughts:

if not you, then who?

#haechan #jaemin #mark lee #jeno #nct #nct dream #nct 127 #haechan angst #haechan fluff #jaemin fluff #jeno angst #jeno fluff #mark lee angst #mark angst #nct scenario #nct scenarios #previews

[luciana-galvez]

I’m not the bad guy I Part IV

When Troy finds you in the desert and takes you to the farm, you don’t know what to make of the intense man with the piercing eyes, and you understand even less why you’re so drawn to him. Is he as messed up as he seems to be, or is there something more beneath the surface?

Fandom: Fear The Walking Dead

Words: ~1500

Pairing: Troy Otto x reader

Warnings: None

Masterlist

Madison turned around at the mention of her name, and her eyes grew wide. “What?” she asked in disbelief, quickly moving toward you. You reciprocated her movements, and when you were right in front of her, she pulled you in for a tight hug.

“I thought you were dead,” she said as she pulled away. You were just about to respond when you saw another familiar face behind her.

“Nick?” you asked, passing Madison and walking up to Nick to pull him in for a hug as well.

“Where are the others?” you asked.

“Travis and Alicia were in the helicopter,” Madison told you. “They should’ve been here by now.”

“And the rest?” you asked.

“Long story,” Madison shook her head. “What about you?”

“Long story,” you echoed her words.

You arranged to meet up with both of them later that day, now Jeremiah was showing them to their cabin, discussing what to do about the missing helicopter. You watched them walk away when Troy came up next to you. He had remained in the back while you were talking to Madison, watching the encounter from afar.

“You know them?” he asked.

“Yeah,” you answered, still looking after them. “We were together when everything happened. We travelled all the way from Los Angeles to Mexico. We stayed at this villa. It had fences, it was safe.” You started shaking your head. “Until it wasn’t. There was a fire and the place was overrun. I lost them in the chaos.”

Thinking about that night made you shudder. You shook your head again, as if you would be able to shake the thoughts off.

“How long were you alone for?”

You shrugged. “Four, five weeks. I stopped counting eventually.”

You turned around and started walking back to your cabin. You didn’t want to talk about anything that happened after the fire. You weren’t even sure you could. You dreamt about it a lot, and that was enough to bear. Some nights, even Troy woke up from your nightmares, but you always brushed it off.

“You alright?” Troy asked as you walked away.

“I’m fine,” you said, even though you weren’t so sure.

That night, you met Madison and Nick in the community area, down where food and drinks were served. You sat across from them at one of the picnic tables, but their eyes kept swerving around, both of them worried about what happened to Alicia, Travis and Luciana, Nick’s girlfriend, and why they hadn’t shown up yet.

You talked about what happened to them after the fire, how Nick had disappeared and found a community in Tijuana, how Travis had disappeared with Chris and had come back alone, the hotel, Ofelia leaving, Strand staying when the others went to look for Nick. You were taken aback by just how small the group had become.

“I’m sure they’re fine,” you said eventually, after seeing Madison’s eyes wander to the gates yet again. “It’s probably just issues with the chopper. Jake is going to get them here, he’s a good man,” you tried to sound reassuring.

They didn’t answer, both of them lost in thought. “This ranch is a good place,” you said eventually. “You’ll see as soon as they’re here.”

“Yeah, we won’t stick around to find out,” Nick said sarcastically.

“We need help for Luciana, Nick,” Madison argued.

You furrowed your eyebrows in puzzlement at their conversation. “What happened at the border?” you asked eventually, wondering why they were so eager to leave.

“Troy happened,” Nick said, and his voice was full of venom.

“He only went to get oil,” you said, finding yourself being surprisingly bothered with Nick’s tone. “What happened?”

Nick looked at you, one eyebrow raised. “Are you friends?”

“We’re...” you paused for a second, not knowing how to describe your relationship to the younger Otto. “..something.”

“Well, you might want to know that your friend,” Nick started, turning his head to look at Troy, who was sitting a few tables down with others of the militia. Both Madison and you followed Nick’s gaze, and Troy couldn’t fail to notice. Nick turned back and looked at you to finish his sentence. “...is a murderer,” he spat.

You looked at him for a moment, irritated. “So am I,” you said almost defiantly, saying it out loud for the first time. “So is everyone that is trying to stay alive out there. You think every living person I met while I was alone out there was welcoming and trying to help? Even you’re not that naive.” You stared at him almost challengingly.

“She doesn’t know,” Madison said eventually.

“Know what?” you asked, agitated, looking at her.

For a moment, both of them were quiet. Madison was the first to speak. “Troy was doing experiments on people. Killing them to see how long it would take them to turn. He almost killed Nick and Travis.”

For a second, you felt almost paralyzed. You instantly knew it was true, there was no doubt. Of course Troy would do something like that. But there was something else; you couldn’t quite put your finger on what it was.

“Are you okay?” Nick asked, but you didn’t pay attention, your eyes staring at nothing in particular.

And then it hit you. She’s a goner, you remembered. Put her in with the others, let’s see how long it’ll take her to turn.

You looked over to where Troy was sitting, your eyes wide. He was looking directly at you, apprehensive, his eyes not having left your table since the three of you had turned to him before, as if he knew what you were taking about.

“Excuse me,” you said, getting up from the table without waiting for an answer. You started to hurriedly walk back to your cabin, feeling nauseous.

Troy caught up with you quickly.

“Hey, hey, hey,” he said as he came closer, slowing down from his light jog to a normal pace.

“Are you alright?” he asked when you didn’t say anything, and carefully touched your wrist to make you stop and look at him.

“Don’t touch me!” you pulled your arm away, turning around to face him. As soon as you stopped, you noticed that your hands were shaking. You pressed them against your thighs, hoping he wouldn’t notice.

“What did they tell you?” Troy asked uneasily.

“You were going to do that to me,” you said with a shaking voice. “What you almost did to Nick and Travis, what you did to God knows how many other people…. you were going to do that to me,” you looked at him in disbelief, your eyes wide.

“No, no,” Troy started, taking a step closer to you. You took a step back as soon as he moved.

“I remember,” you said. “I remember what they said. Let’s see how long it’ll take her to turn. I didn’t understand it then.” You started shaking your head in disbelief. “That’s why they were taking my things-”

“No, but I stopped them!” Troy argued. His eyes were wide as well, and there was an urgency in his voice you hadn’t heard before.

“Oh, how heroic,” you spat and rolled your eyes, your initial shock slowly being replaced by anger. “So you’re telling me I needed saving from your own men, and your own experiments? Are you actually telling me that you saved me from yourself?!”

You looked at him expectantly, but he remained quiet, simply looking at you pleadingly with big eyes, at a loss for words.

“Please,” he said as you turned around and walked away, but you kept going.

You sat on your bed, lost in thought, when you heard footsteps on the squeaking stairs leading up to your cabin. There was a knock on the door, and shortly after Troy quietly said your name.

“Please open up,” he said. You looked at the closed door, contemplating, but remained quiet.

“I need to talk to you. Let me explain,” he continued.

You stood up from the bed and walked up to the door with tentative steps, careful not to make noise.

“We were testing resurrection times,” Troy said eventually, his voice sounding defeated even though the closed door. “We tested people of different body types, health, and ethnicity. We just wanted to see if those variations have an effect.” He was quiet for a moment, then: “Please open up.”

You took another step to the door, but instead of opening it, you only stared at it before carefully putting your hands and your forehead against the wood, listening to his voice outside.

“I just…” he started, but paused. “I need to know why we spoil.” His voice sounded different, weaker than you’ve ever heard it before, almost desperate.

Eventually, you leaned your back against the door and sank down to a sitting position. Only now, experiencing just how much this revelation hurt you, did you realize that you had allowed yourself to feel safe around someone again, and that your relationship with Troy might not have been strictly physical for you. You cursed yourself for it.

You sensed his presence outside the door for a long time.  You had already started to doze off when you vaguely heard the floorboards of the stairs creaking, accompanied by departing footsteps.

#troy otto #troy otto imagine #ftwd imagine #troy otto x reader #ftwd x reader #troy otto imagines #ftwd imagines

[thisbrutalbelle]

chatzy with @ianncardero, feat. penny. 

      bella and iann speak to iann’s ex-wife about letting them go, she agrees to help them escape the facility.

tw: blood, guns, kidnapping.

Bella rose, eyes fluttering. Her make-up had been removed upon her arrival and since healing she probably looked particularly odd. Her skin was a little more textured despite lacking the discolouration of most humans, her lashes were thin and a light brown shade making them near invisible, her lips were a natural hue, and her brows were almost nonexistent. This was the first thought she had, of course, before she tried to stand, lifting her hand to feel tough metal, jerking more and realising she was not going to be able to stand up. That was when it hit her, what had happened and she let out a self-loathing sigh. "Let me out!" she screamed, though she knew it would do no good. It felt better to try. "Wasn't that what you wanted? Let me go!" she repeated, distracting herself from thoughts of Iann's terrified face.

The 'tour', such as it was, ended up being vague but informative nonetheless. Iann learned a few things, not that he shared any of it with Penny. What he gathered, from the other masked black ops people around the compound, was that they were underground; how deep Iann didn't really know, but it seemed pretty damn deep. It also seemed to be a pretty good set-up. Fully self-sufficient, sprawling. Iann was surprised at the level of sophistication, and even asked Penny how the hell this was all being funded. Penny gave him that sly side-smile of hers and mentioned private corporate interested parties, then laughed because she knew that would drive Iann nuts. Anything corporate did, just as anything overly-governmental did. "Trust me - we got money coming out of our ass. This whole supernatural business is big money." But it was all for the greater good - that was what she kept maintaining, and Iann eventually grew too tired to keep rolling his eyes everytime she said some nationalist jingo. Pride and loyalty and bravery and all those things Iann tended to scoff at. "I'm telling you, everything you're describing is everything Bellamy hates," Iann said. "She doesn't give a damn about fighting the good fight."

When the tour was over, Iann was brought back to a medical wing, where Bellamy was being contained in one of the rooms. "She's recovering in there. You can go talk to her, you're perfectly safe," Penny tried to reassure Iann, even if he gave a snort at that. "Take you're time, huh? I'll be out here. And please, Iann - please don't try to do anything stupid. I know that's hard for you, but you know. Just try?"

Iann gave Penny one more eyeroll for good measure, before he was let into Bellamy's room. He hustled over to her, looking at the medical equipment to check the readings of her vitals. It was clearly set up for a vampire-healing, not a human's. "Bellamy?"

Eventually Bella settled, looking at the IV that was in her arm, pissed off that she was being force fed some kind of bad blood, basically fucking gruel in her opinion when she had made her demands quite clear. In this it was evident that Iann was right, Bellamy did not care about the greater good and she did not care about fighting. Bellamy cared for herself above all else. In some ways this was her biggest undoing but as of late it had been her strongest asset. She had learnt, through all of her misdeeds that if she truly wanted to be happy she could not actively pursue immediate self-gratification but consider long term affects. She could put others first then by knowing later putting them first would ultimately bring her the most happiness, either by knowing she was not bound to someone who did not truly want to be connected to her or by being happily engaged in a connection with someone who did.

Perhaps this thought process was why it hurt Bellamy so much to think on Iann feeling the affects of her metuo sanguis. Long term she needed Iann, his friendship and protection was unquantifiable to her, a rare quality to find in any person. To think in trying to save him immediately had possibly damaged their long term friendship pained her. It also silenced her, Bellamy no longer screaming at the top of her lungs, instead closing her eyes and trying to find him in the building, knowing his heartbeat was one she could find in a crowd so a building would not be ultimately difficult. She frowned though when it seemed so close before hearing her name, blinking once her twice.

"Pa?" Bella asked, still not completely trusting that he had been brought back to her. It seemed as though they didn't trust her, being bound as she was. "Who was that?" she asked, having heard a heartbeat so close to his own move away.

"It's me, mija, it's Iann," he said, coming closer. He was covered in the edelweiss flowers, a precaution from Penny which had surprised Iann somewhat. He figured she wanted to prove that Bellamy wouldn't hurt him while in her turned state, with or without the edelweiss. So to be carefully decorated with them made Iann think...what? That she somehow cared? Iann didn't want his mind to go there, and he was sure Penny wouldn't want it either. Regardless, he was reunited with Bellamy now, and he pulled up a stool and sat beside her. "How're you feeling?"

It was hard to look at him and not be able to hold him. Each part of her body wanted to just wrap herself up in his arms and ask how he was going to get them out of there. Logically she knew she was stronger, especially now they'd fed her up, but he was always the one that knew what to do, knew how to fix something awful. Yet, he seemed to merely sit and her eyes flickered to the camera on the ceiling, the CCTV one she had spotted upon arising and wondering if perhaps he was putting on some sort of show. It was an easier thought than thinking he did not, at the very least, take her hand because he was afraid of her. "I'm so sorry, I thought-I thought the glass would keep it in," Bellamy said because how she was feeling was just worried, pushing her hand out to him as far as she could, fingers stretching to reach for his own hand while her forearm was now stuck tightly in the metal. "I didn't - If I died I thought -," Bella tried, only hearing excuses as she began. "I'm so sorry I scared you, Iann," she said. Words like 'I never' weren't going to be anything but excuses, and if he thought she was or was not at fault saying them would not change his mind. Actions only ever could.

"What? Bellamy - no, don't worry about that, I know you didn't mean it. It wasn't you anyway, it was the illness, hm?" Iann said, and when Bellamy's hand flexed to reach for him, Iann leaned forward and took it, gripping it tightly. Iann wasn't exactly the type of person to act rashly. He wasn't going to start pulling out the IV and tubes and trying to bust Bellamy out of her restraints just to do....what, exactly? Bellamy was stronger than him, but she'd be weaker than the soldiers outside those doors who could easily detain them and then they'd just be back to square one. "You...when it took you over, there was still some of you. You were...trying to save me," Iann said with a smile. He pet Bellamy's hair. "I know this is all really scary, but you're being healed right now, hm? We need you to be healed up..." Iann glanced up at the CCTV before he then said. "Before we can start talking about...what's happening here."

Bella began to shake her head and then nodded. Yes, and no. Yes, it technically was the illness but the illness hadn't made her shift. She had decided that, in part to save him, and, undeniably, in part to save herself too. She didn't have a death wish, least not currently, and she did not intend for Ephram and Miles and Teddy and Elena and Cassie and everyone who worked for her to imagine that she had just up and abandoned their friendship or their connection, whatever it was. "I know...," Bellamy rolled off, a little confused by his comment about her trying to save him. She remembered, did he think she had forgotten? That she had lost her faculties? "It didn't take over, I let it...rise," she reasoned. "It's not like before, it's not like when you and Ephram came to the house. That's...that's when it's all built up inside me. That's when there's so much I can't reach my own head. I'm taking my medicine, I had complete control of my mind, Iann. I...I've shifted a few times since that all happened, purposefully, and yes, I do want to do certain things more but it's still me. Even if I had got out of that cell I wouldn't have done anything to you, I'd have got you free and then found a way to get whatever I put inside you out," she insisted. That was her plan and it hadn't faultered when she'd shifted into her final state. Feeling his hand in her hair was comforting though, and his immediate acceptance that she hadn't done what she had maliciously or through just not caring made her worries fade away. "I need something alive," she whispered, trying to barely move her mouth in case they were watching her lips. "I haven't had live blood in over a week, I'm never going to be strong enough to take on anyone without it. Least not...like this," she said. Obviously knowing he would likely become immobilized with fear were she to become her black eyed creature self again.

It was all news to Iann, but it was good news, and despite their current situation Iann couldn't help but feel grateful for this new information about Bellamy's condition and her control. "Okay, I think I get it now," he said, but he knew he never actually would fully understand. Things would keep evolving, as Bellamy learned more about herself and the illness. Which was what made it so ironic that Penny's group seemed to think he was the expert; he wasn't. Bellamy was the expert on herself, as it should be. As for Bellamy feeding on someone live, Iann screwed his mouth to one side as he exhaled, looking up at the cameras again. "Sweetheart, none of these soldiers are going to let you feed on them." He looked down at his arm. "You could feed on me, if you like. Ah....if I drink your blood first, you know. Like how we've done before?"

"Why do they have to let me?" Bellamy asked, a little confused. In general, now, Bellamy was opposed to feeding on people that didn't agree to it. She hadn't fed on anyone that had not agreed since well before Teddy had found her the man of muscles she had dined on until she and Miles had struck their deal. This seemed an exceptional sort of case though and Bella's skewed logic dictated if they were so willing to treat her like an animal in a cage then why should she not act like one. "Why should I have to hurt you? Do you not think I should kill anyone here?" she asked him, frown coming over her brow. It wasn't angry so much as confused. Was it the sight of it he did not want? Another imagine in his head of her killing? Had he seen her kill before? Actually witnessed the act of it? She couldn't recall. "Who were you with?" Bellamy repeated her earlier question, realising he had ignored it.

"Ummm, I mean. I wouldn't recommend feeding on people by force..." It was the only way Iann could think that Bellamy could feed on anyone but him, and if Bellamy was confused about what he was saying then he was similarly confused about what she was saying. He felt apologetic, like he wasn't handling things right. Like once more Bellamy was expecting something brilliant from him, and he just wasn't delivering. He felt an inkling of helplessness, and then frustration that he was so helpless. "That one guy - Anton - he wasn't good to you, he didn't treat you well. The others, well. Not all of them are like that," Iann said, staring at Bellamy's collarbone as he spoke. He didn't believe that Bellamy would want to hear these words, and understandably so. Thus far, she'd been treated abhorrently, she had every right to despise everyone here and want to murder them all. "Killing more people won't help anything, mija...." Then the question again, which Iann had missed the first time because of his worry for her. "Um...well you see. One - one of the soldiers...mercenaries, whatever they are. It turns out that, ah...one of them - the human - she's actually, ah, my - my ex-wife. Penny. Hm? Penny's here."

Bella grasped his hand tightly that held her, not enough to break his hand or anything but certainly forceful. It was all she could do not the shake the chair as he insisted that there were people in this building that didn't have as malicious a set of actions in mind for her. It seemed unlikely, if they were watching then how were they better? Iann had not allowed her to continue her rampage, why should this man be allowed by his peers to burn her flesh and break her face. Yet, as she tried to think of someone in her life that would allow her rampage of the place, killing Anton at the very least, she suspected there was not a person that would and settled. Sinking into her chair he began to answer and Bella took a second to register before she blurted out her first thought. "I thought your first wife was dead," she commented, though there was every chance he'd never said that and she'd merely made the assumption with only half listening to him when they'd first befriended one another. "Is that why you're not in chains but I am? Tell her to let us go, Iann," she requested, voice growing louder. Why on Earth were they sitting there if someone could let them go?

"No she's not dead," Iann said, shaking his head as his thumb made circles on her small hand. "She's right outside." He wasn't in chains because there really was no point; what could Iann do to these people? He couldn't hurt them, even if he tried. One punch and he'd be out like a light. Bellamy on the other hand, could do damage, and a considerable amount. "I'm not in chains because I'm not you," Iann said, but he turned an ugly red at Bellamy's implication. "What do you want me to do? Just ask her to let you go? Like it's as simple as that?" Iann asked, frowning. He turned to the door. "Hey! Penny! Let us go!" He was greeted with silence, and then he just looked back at Bellamy. "Yell at me all you want, but that's not going to help anything."

Bella frowned at him now with an actual sternness as he sarcastically responded to her questions. It wasn't like she knew more than he did. It wasn't like she was meant to understand, especially in relation to his strength. It was a constant reminder she needed to place in her own head that Iann was not nearly as threatening as she was because in her mind he was entirely formidable. "And what will?" she responded, now actually yelling, shaking her arms vigorously as she sat their confined to her chair. It bred an anxiety in her that she loathed, the same anxiety that she had being trapped in that glass cell, the same anxiety she had felt in that cage in the basement of the vampire twins green house, the same anxiety that had risen when she realised she had invited a demon into her home and his intentions for her were not as he had claimed, and most obviously the anxiety that had first been gifted to her knowing she had been a caged bird all along with Valentin and had not known it. "Let me go!" she hollered loudly as her body shook violently in the chair. "Let me go! Let me go! Let me go!" she screamed, over and over as her hair thrashed about her face and she cut her arms on the metal, healing instantly. She probably screamed those words twenty times before her wet eyes shut and she leaned back in the chair, unable to move for desire to thrash was all she had.

"Patien--" Iann was about to answer her question, but then Bellamy started to scream. Over and over, she screamed and raged through her entire small body, as she once more started to destroy herself, and her body wouldn't let her. Iann closed his mouth and watched her, unable to stop her. Iann was filled with sadness, but his expression remained neutral, not angry or sad or anything. There was, after all, nothing he could do while Bellamy was like this. There was nothing anyone could do but witness her rage and anger.

Patience had always been lacking in the little vampire, something she had to learn and practice over time. But that behaviour came with the safety of her home, the safety of her companions and her work. Bellamy did not want this, she did not want to be here and slowly began to sob as she rested there. It was wrong, she needed to be proactive, put her feelings away and thing of what to do if he had not already formulated something but she could not. With all she had done for the past three days, starved herself, been asked questions without care to inform her of what was going on, then to see him there, trapped with her and remaining trapped still. It was more than she had prepared for and it ached inside of her to think she could want none of this and still find herself stuck being the monster, a monster that needed to be changed. "I want to go home," she cried, tears falling from her eyes and making her short lashes appear darker. "I just want to go home," she begged, eyes still closed and tears still falling from them. For all Anton had said, and for all the growing up she believed she had done, it was true that Bella was still a spoiled child. Why would she not be? Bellamy was still a twenty-four year old girl who ached inside regularly, put into this she felt wronged, like her efforts were meaningless. "What do I do?" she asked.

Of course Iann wanted to try and think of a way to escape and get back home, but he was under considerable stress as well. Definitely not as much or no where near Bellamy's which was why so much of Iann's attention and concentration was currently focused on her. Every thing that happened to her, all of her screaming and her threats and her injuries and all her suffering, that was what filled Iann's brain above everything else. He couldn't think about getting out, until he knew that Bellamy was going to be okay enough to get out at all. So far, she hadn't been. So far she'd been too starved and too enraged and too destroyed and now far too distraught for Iann to think about anything else but trying to attend to her. When he was allowed to, anyway. So when Bellamy asked 'what do I do?' Iann sighed, and rubbed his fingers on his brow. "I don't know. I just....I need some time to think. They won't un-restrain you unless they're sure you won't kill them. There's no way I can free you and you can't free yourself. They want me to convince you to join them, for their...I don't know. Some sort of fight to...save the world or something," Iann said with a sigh. "Or at least fight alongside them. I told them that they pretty much went about it the exact wrong way." Literally the completely wrong way. It wasn't as if Bellamy was averse to helping others, but Bellamy always did things her way: her ideas, her decisions on how to help others, her benevolence delivered in her way. She wasn't a vigilante seeking justice. She was a businesswoman who wanted to provide small credit loans to cottage industries. "I told Penny - just because you have this metuo sanguis, doesn't mean you want to use it to...fight evil across the country or whatever. That's never been your sort of calling." Iann sighed. "They're not bad, they're just stupid."

Leaning her head back she listened to him quietly. It didn't upset her he did not have a plan, she did not have a plan, and usually, when awful things happened they had far longer to formulate something. Anaxis had been in Ephram for weeks, the metuo sanguis had grown and taken hold of her over a month. They had only come to even realise the other was there mere hours ago, and that was a kind estimate based on her progressed healing. "So I need to stop screaming...," she rolled off, as he said they would not remove her restraints unless they believed her to be safe. Bella wasn't sure at this point what would convince them of that, what would make them believe that she was safe. Especially as she had said such...ferocious words to the one who had grabbed her and held her in the cage. "One doesn't rule out the other," she said from experience. Bellamy's ignorance had fed her awful behaviour, their ignorance was clearly feeding their own. "One thing is for sure, I can't do anything, whatever they've got me in is going to hold me," she said, looking down at the bars. "Perhaps we offer them a trade. They don't really need me, they've seen I'm not exactly a fighter, they just need to know how to use my blood." She didn't really like the idea, but she also knew a bit more about her blood than they did and while the black blood they had taken from her was still likely in the vial it had been collected in it would not remain that way for long. "I'll help them make a weapon that lasts until we're back in town, block those arseholes from breaching the barrier again. Unless...you think I should help them?" she asked, for clarity rather than judgement. He said they'd gone about this the wrong way, said it wasn't her, and he was right but so were they, if Iann told her to do this then, while she might protest, she probably would.

"That's the thing - they're all supernaturals, except for Penny, as far as I can tell. So the Soapberry barrier wouldn't block them - they're free to come and go as they please. Probably how they were able to learn so much about you...about us." Only Hunters and humans-not-in-the-know were blocked from entering Soapberry, although Iann had seen some loopholes. Fawn's denial for instance, and Grace being an ex-Hunter. Regardless, Penny's group were not blocked from the Soapberry barrier. Which meant even if Iann and Bellamy didescape, it wouldn't be difficult to come after Bellamy again. And again, and again. There had to be some way to convince them or trade, as Bellamy had suggested. "No - there's no way we're using your metuo sanguis as a weapon. That's - no..." Iann shook his head vehemently. "The only thing keeping that illness safe and sound is you and your willpower." Whatever they'd taken from her, Iann highly doubted they'd be able to do anything with it. It was simply too powerful, even for Penny's group. Bellamy was right as well about her restraints - after the threats she'd described in loving graphic detail, there was no way in hell they'd trust her. "Alright...alright. Just..." Iann sat back and thought for a few minutes, looking at Bellamy, then the CCTV, then the door, then back to Bellamy. He glanced at hte door again, knowing Penny was out there. "Bellamy..." Iann said suddenly, his eyes bright, an expression that could only mean that Iann was coming up with a plan - but it was hinging on Bellamy. So he had to ask. "Would you like to meet my ex-wife? You won't...cuss her out or anything, will you? I want...I want you two to meet." If Bellamy could talk to Penny - if Penny could see that Bellamy was just a little girl despite her vampirism and metuo sanguis - what if? Iann knew the Penny he knew was a kind soul underneath all of her bravado and machoness. She could kick a guy in the balls and then carefully collect a spider and take it outside. If she could take pity on Bellamy...maybe they had a chance.

The funny thing was, despite her aching self that wanted to be free a smile came upon her face at the suggestion of meeting his ex-wife. It easily pushed out the knowledge that they would come after them, it pushed out the note that Bella keeping her knowledge to herself was the best way for it to not fall into the wrong hands, and it pushed out the thought they had no freaking plan. "Of course not," she let out, eager as ever. In her mind she could focus on the wonderful part of this that meant, like going to Portland, she was seeing more of Iann. Focusing on that made everything seem easier - even when it was not. "Do you think it could help?" she asked, leaning forward in her chair, blonde hair draping around her wet face.

“Maybe..." Iann said, coming closer to Bellamy again and fussing with her hair and face, trying to get her to look more neat and tidied up. He was like a fusspot Aunt who wanted to keep up appearances. Iann leaned in closer to Bellamy. "If we can talk to her, maybe get her to help us...then we might have a chance, hm? Our only chance..." Iann added, giving Bellamy a look. "So be nice. She's very rough around the edges - just remember if she gets all insulty, that's just her way, hm?" Iann backed away from Bellamy, figuring she was as nice-looking as she ever was going to look, while strapped down and immobilized. Iann knocked on the door. "Penny? We're ready to talk now." After a couple minutes, the door slid open, and Penny came in, her handgun lowered but securely held in both hands as she slowly came in. Her eyes were pinned to Bellamy, taking in everything about her, wary that Bellamy and Iann were planning to attack her. They were planning something alright, but it wasn't any sort of physical attack.

With Bella's experience of having Miles meet Alina she was somewhat nervous, the playing with her appearance and the instance that this was their only chance to escape making her more so. Bella felt she was awful with first meeting people. It was easier when she didn't care, clearly she cared now. She needed to care now, to not think on how easy it would be to begin insulting the woman back were she to make comments about her. So when Iann left she took a few breaths, counting them as she had been taught by Bek, a simple and calming act. Only when Penny and Iann returned did she open her eyes, taking in the woman who held a gun in her hands. In the back of her head she knew she'd have usually rolled her eyes, Bellamy found guns, in the presence of supernaturals to be mostly for show, a way for a human to feel strong when they were weak. Instead she just sniffled, wriggling her nose a little and taking in the woman's scent, but mostly just getting the scent of the gunpower in her bullets that clearly had been affected by something to make them work on Bella. Nervous still she wriggled her shoulders against the back of the chair, appearing to pull away from her, eyes moving to Iann's with pursed and uncomfortable lips. She was...pretty but it was hard to focus on anything but her weapon.

Penny was wary. The first thing she did when she stepped into the room and assessed Bellamy, was glance up at the camera. It seemed in tact, which meant it was working and wasn't tampered with. Iann, she nudged ahead of her, not wanting him to be behind her. And then, she looked at the girl . Really looked at her, instead of from behind a mask or on the screen of some camera monitor. She watched as Iann went around to the girl and sat back on his stool and held the girl's hand. Penny looked down at the restraints, but they seemed to be holding her quite securely. The girl's looked normal - well, as normal as a strapped down girl could look, but sadly in her work and travels Penny had seen far, far worse. So she wasn't too phased, especially considering Bellamy was healing up so fast. "So what is this," Penny finally grunted, giving Iann a cursory glance. "You bring me in here and then she jumps me and...what? Rips my face off and feeds me my eyeballs and tears off my tits and eats me out?"

Iann sighed (a trait he was doing more often these days, a trait he'd picked up from Tuah) and he looked down at Bellamy, petting her hair down before returning his hand to hold hers. "She's restrained, even she can't break out of them. Whatever you guys have set-up here, it's really fucking fool-proof." Of course it was; this wasn't humans or even Hunters dealing with them. Where oversight was always a possibility when it came to supernatural restraint. This was supernaturals restraining other supernaturals, and being good at it. "She does need to feed on someone alive though. I'm not volunteering you--" Iann quickly added in a slightly annoyed tone (he couldn't help it. When Penny rolled her eyes like that, his reaction came instinctively, dredged from their past), "- god, I'm just saying. Bellamy - this - this is my ex-wife, Penny. And Penny, this is Bellamy, my, ahhh, my friend."

Penny nodded evenly at Bellamy. "I heard him," she said, talking directly to Bellamy now. "He calls you mija."

Bella wanted to point out that she also had cuffs made that vampires could not get out of, it wasn't hard to do that but Iann had said be nice and it wasn't like everything else in this place would have been easy to come by. If not for what she had shifted into, for them, she'd never have been able to crack the glass as she had. So instead she just, lace her fingers with his and watched as Iann immediately began to step on himself. Perhaps it was okay for him to be this way because being any other way would be false? When she was the one being spoken to Bellamy looked back into Penny's eyes and nodded, slowly before flicking them back to Iann and smiling. "Yeah, I mean, but he's not wrong...we're friends. It's just he looks out for me," Bellamy insisted. Even now he was looking out for her, surely he could have got himself out of there with Penny working there and left her behind if he wanted but as she knew she wouldn't leave him behind, she knew he would not leave her - well least not without a plan in place. "Did you know Iann when he was a teenager?" she asked, a little curve to the corner of her mouth, it didn't seem rude so she figured she could push here and there. Besides, if Iann wanted her to see a real girl wouldn't something so trivial be important to a real girl the way it was to Bella?

Of course Iann's relationship was much, much different to Penny than Bellamy's was to Penny. For one, Iann and Penny had a history of friendship, love, strife, estrangement. Maybe Bellamy didn't understand the context of how a history together tended to make people interact differently, to strangers meeting for the first time. Iann and Penny had familiarity, even after nearly 20 years apart. They had memories together. Their first impressions of each other were created when they were both teenagers. On the other hand, this was both Bellamy's and Penny's first impression of each other. Did it make sense therefore for Bellamy to talk as familiarly with Penny as Iann did? Not really. And as the two women began to talk, Iann watched Penny's face carefully, trying to read her microexpressions. She was doing a good job of that military-neutral-face, the one that looked dulled-out, semi-hostile, but nonetheless listening to what Bellamy had to say.

Penny looked doubtful. "Iann looks out for you," she repeated flatly, clearly not really believing it. She gave a bitter half-smile. "I'd ask if he was fucking you, but..." Penny glanced over at Iann. "I think we all know he's never been good at that sort of thing." It was hardly an insult, because Iann looked back at Penny and gave her a smile back, and a half-hearted shrug of 'well, can't argue with you there'. Satisfied, Penny looked back at Bellamy. Bellamy's question did throw Penny off, and she blinked rapidly, shifting from one foot to the other as the question brought back a lot of memories. Not the bad memories, either. "I - yeah. He was... we were best friends. Did he ever tell you that?" Penny asked, looking back at Iann for a brief moment. "I taught him a lot of shit, and man...he soaked it up like a sponge. Remember - I asked you if you had any friends before me, because you were like a fucking puppy."

Iann blinked, like the memory just popped into his own head and took him by surprise. "I remember. I said no. I wasn't going to lie. You were my first friend...first friend my age, I mean."

Penny nodded, but then frowned when she realized she was getting nostalgic. Like any typical human with a gun, she half-raised it, as if trying to reassert her control over this situation. "Stop smiling like that, it gives me the creeps," Penny said to Bellamy. "You look like one of those weird porcelain dolls in those horror movies. The ones that are always smiling, until they leap at you and tear your head from your neck." Penny rolled her shoulders, in that way people did when they were trying to work out some muscle kinks. "So Bellamy. What do you think about, you know. Joining up? Iann said you wouldn't but we all agree - your ability, the things you can do, it's amazing. Anton pushed you hard and...well, I'll apologize for him. We didn't realize that maybe you needed a..." She glanced at Iann, then back at Bellamy. "...a kinder and gentler touch. Your rap sheet made you out to be a real badass motherfucker, huh?"

The notion of him having sex with her made Bellamy pull her lips back, it wasn't like Iann was ugly but...no. No. "Maybe," Bellamy answered, probably too honestly for what they were attempting to accomplish. "I sort of wasn't a great person to be around when we first met. Most everything he told me up until about a year ago sort of...went over my head," she admitted, solemn in her tone. Bella did feel badly, she had wanted the two of them to care about one another but a lot of the time it was mostly just her wanting him to care and to merely say that she was. Things had certainly changed since then but still, it didn't mean she liked saying she'd treated him so badly.

Yet the two of them fell into conversation with one another and Bellamy mostly just watched. It was odd, to see Iann with anyone let alone someone from his past. In her mind when she was with Iann it was just them. Even instances where Tuah and his second wife had been around it was sort of peripheral to her, perhaps because Tuah was so shy and perhaps because his deceased ex had worked so very much. They just fell into this grove of speaking to one another that was understandable but definitely made Bella feel like she sort of needed to leave. If they'd been at a party together she would have backed away from the conversation, let them fall into their words with one another. As it was she obviously was not going anywhere and when attention was returned to her she just gave a half smile.

"Amazing is...," Bellamy wanted to say 'a fucked up way to describe it but instead looked down at her hands and let out a harsh breath. "Subjective." Not a lie. It was subjective, lots of people thought it was amazing but lots of people thought a lot of awful shit. Hearing the name of the person that had hurt her she decided against commenting since she still wanted to murder him, and would not let the chance go were it to come up. Honestly, she wasn't sure she'd be able to let it go even if they left this place. "I can't-I really can't. It isn't about wanting to or not wanting to even. What you would be asking of me would be to use that constantly. The edelweiss works because I don't use what I can, it works because I work at things, eventually that stuff doesn't work, there is too much of the black blood in me that removing as much as the edelweiss can isn't enough, then I'd be the bad guy and I-I-I don't want to be put down like I rabid dog. I reacted like that because I am done being put in cages by people who think what I am is their blessing, it's my curse and I'm ten times more than what that is. I just - I just haven't go there yet. I can't risk anyone else and I can't risk damning myself more by saying using it will help people, perhaps, for a moment, but that moment of help would not equal the damage I could end up doing. You saw a second of what I can be and three men lost themselves, one died and removing the edelweiss doesn't remove the memories. Iann can attest to that."

"Well shit," Penny breathed out finally, after listening to Bellamy's extraordinarily reasonable explanation. Penny released her gun from one hand as well, keeping it in the other and just letting it hang at her side. She turned from Bellamy and Iann and paced into the corner, smacking the on the safety on her weapon and she muttered to herself and sucked her teeth. She didn't holster it yet, but perhaps, Iann believed, that was for the sake of whomever was watching through the CCTV. "You were going to be our Hulk!" she said with a mirthless smile at Bellamy, as she rubbed at her eyes with her free hand. "Fuck. Fuck! So this was all just a huge fucking waste of time and resources, fucking fantastic," Penny ranted, in a way that was all too familiar with the way that Iann could sometimes rant. Like she had anger in her, but it wasn't directed at any one person in particular, and like she just needed to get it out. "I told Anton this was a mistake. And when I saw you -" She motioned with her chin towards Iann, "I knew it was an even bigger mistake. Honestly I was kind of hoping you'd sell her to us..." she snorted at Iann, but then just shook her head, massaging her brow with her fingers. "Something....something big is coming is all. Something big and fucked up and we were on some desperate goal to save the world..." She gave Iann a glare of 'don't you start', because she knew Iann hated her sense of heroism and sacrifice. It drove Iann nuts, her sense of righteousness. "Anyway. It doesn't matter now. If you can't come with us, then we - we should keep moving, maybe find someone else to be our Hulk. You're special, but there are lots of special people in the world huh?" Penny said to Bellamy. She took a step closer, back to the CCTV camera and also blocking Bellamy's face from the CCTV as well. "I promised Iann I'd help you guys go back to Soapberry, but the others won't be as convinced as me. The group's split, between Anton's way and my way. So...hold tight. You're both gonna get put back into the glass cage - I'll convince 'em to get you in a cage together, and then tonight I'll...I'll come get your guys. Don't do anything stupid before that." Penny looked at Iann and then back at Bellamy. "Make sure Papa here doesn't do anything stupid."

Iann shut his eyes for a moment, then opened them to look down at Bellamy. He held Bellamy's hand, hoping that the little vampire could trust Penny. Did Iann trust Penny? He wasn't even sure at this point; but he really wanted to. Because so far, their options were slim to nil of getting out of here alive.

"Hulk is one of the better Avengers," she conceded though she was not one for superhero movies and only knew the names of like three of the members of the team. Yet she silenced as the woman before her began to rant, it didn't mean anything to Bella who did not understand guns that the woman had switched to holding it in her opposing hand and so she still felt unsettled, wondering perhaps if the woman would shoot her because she was surely of no use. Big picture killing one person never tended to matter to corporate types of collectives. Hell, didn't like hundreds of people die in those Avenger movies just for being bystanders? Besides, she didn't like the implication Iann would or could sell her and immediately had to resist the urge to tell her off, even if it wasn't a dig at Iann's home life like it sounded it was certainly implying that people could be bought and sold. Ideas Valentin had.

In the end Bellamy did not trust the woman. She didn't really like her particularly either. The way she spoke felt like the way a lot of old vampires spoke around Bella, like their big ideas were far more important than little ideas and little actions. Bellamy was not the type of person who thought what someone did only mattered if it was large scale, little things helped and history showed that. Acting like this was some Hollywood blockbuster only made her seem very stunted to Bellamy - hypocritical really. "Okay," she said simply, squeezing Iann's hand and looking at him hopefully. Once they were far enough away from the building Bellamy knew Iann would know enough to hide them, so she just needed hope to get out of the building, everything beyond that he could hide them from and she could protect them from. Yes, yes, if they made it that far they'd be fine.

Penny didn't look like she trusted either of them very much either, but there was little choice she had on her side. She gave Iann a look once more, and then with a curt nod, Penny left. After about fifteen minutes, five other soldiers came into the room. One removed Iann first and then four of them took Bellamy, keeping her restrained. They threw her into the glass cage where Iann was already sitting. It was the cage Iann was in; the bruiser who Bellamy had killed was still laying dead and bloodied in her cage.

Once the solderis removed Bellamy's restraints, they left and Iann came over to Bellamy. "Are you okay?"

Bella didn't resist those who had grabbed her, even though she didn't like being held that way. It made her smile that she had four men holding her while Iann only had one, surely he warranted at least two. Still she walked steadily, only flinching when she was literally throw into Iann's glass cage. Perhaps Penny had been able to convince them that putting her in where she had been would be bad because of the body. "You're ex is...not like you," she answered because actually thinking about whether or not she was okay would fucking suck.

Putting his arm around Bellamy, he smiled and cuddled her close to him. They probably had a few hours (they took away Iann's watch so he had no concept of time down here) so for now all Iann figured they could do was sit around and wait. "Oh yeah? You mean because she's a fighter and I'm not?"

Bella curled up into him easily, cuffs between her hands that she did not completely understand. If she shifted she could remove them after all. She smirked a little, she considered Iann a fighter, when necessary anyway which was the only reasonable sort of time to fight for most humans. "No, because she's talking about these big picture impersonal things. I know you say you're impersonal, least you did about getting close to the people hiring you for your services, but they're personal to someone, the person you're helping." Her cuffed hands rested on his lap and her knees curled. "I mean, it was sort of clear in how they did everything, I don't mean the kidnapping but the information. They knew all this detailed stuff about what I am but in working out our connection they thought you could convince me, they thought I called you something I don't, it's like all that personal stuff was...irrelevant."

"Penny was always a 'change the world' kinda person," Iann said. He didn't really consider it bad, he didn't think in such black and white as Bellamy did. Just because he did things one way and Penny did things another way didn't make either of them right, or wrong. They just were. And they were also incompatible, at least as husband and wife. "I guess both my wives were, come to think of it. Grand ideas and grand ideals...." Iann shook his head. "God...I wish I had a chance to talk to her more. Find out what she saw when she went overseas. She was in the army, hm? Marines....something like that. Something that took her to Afghanistan and Iraq and into Central America too, apparently." Penny had told Iann all this while she was showing him around the facilities.

Bella didn't think it was wrong, it just seem...hurtful on a smaller scale and she just didn't like it. It wasn't Bella and so it wasn't something she could really understand as casually as Iann could. Honestly Bella had never got that picture of his deceased wife, in fact Bellamy had seen her as someone on an even smaller scale than Iann. To Bella she appeared content to run a store, and live above it with him, helping anyone that might need it. Perhaps grand ideals but not grand ideas, still Bellamy had never come to know her that well. It was difficult and she had found the woman to be a very private person, at least with her. "Perhaps, if things go as planned, you can find a way to speak with her," she reasoned of Penny, not going to argue with him about her perceptions of his ex, especially since they were clouded by her mentality at the time she knew her. "Why did you two break up?" she asked. "And not stay in contact?"

Just because Iann could see more than one viewpoint, didn't mean he wouldn't criticize it. In his opinion, the only way he could criticize anything was to understand it first. And he welcomed his methodologies being critiqued as well. But Penny and him clashed because they'd known each other so well, that they ended up knowing how to push each other's buttons just like that and get under each other's skin. "We - ah - we didn't see eye to eye. And the more I got obsessed with supernatural and occult stuff, the more I...well. I ignored her. I sold her stuff for money to buy things I thought were valuable, I couldn't hold a job or pay our rent. I wasn't very good at keeping house either," Iann said with a rueful smile. "She was trying to balance work, school, and a 'lazy' husband. I was angry at her for not believing me and understanding how important my research was. That it meant more than all that stupid boring normal shit like 9-5 jobs and washing dishes. The more she wanted me to spend time with her and talk with her and go out and do all the fun stuff we used to do, the more I pushed her away because it all just...god it had seemed so pointless. I was on the verge of realizing werewolves and vampires and witches were real. Who had time to watch late night TV with your wife?" Iann lay his head back against the wall. "She wanted to know more about my family. I never told her about the brothel, hm? I was too ashamed of...of my Ma. I thought Penny would judge them. And her family haaaaated me, I was such a fucking deadbeat who cared more about fairy tales then about their precious little mija."

Bella didn't think it was wrong, it just seem...hurtful on a smaller scale and she just didn't like it. It wasn't Bella and so it wasn't something she could really understand as casually as Iann could. Honestly Bella had never got that picture of his deceased wife, in fact Bellamy had seen her as someone on an even smaller scale than Iann. To Bella she appeared content to run a store, and live above it with him, helping anyone that might need it. Perhaps grand ideals but not grand ideas, still Bellamy had never come to know her that well. It was difficult and she had found the woman to be a very private person, at least with her. "Perhaps, if things go as planned, you can find a way to speak with her," she reasoned of Penny, not going to argue with him about her perceptions of his ex, especially since they were clouded by her mentality at the time she knew her. "Why did you two break up?" she asked. "And not stay in contact?"

Just because Iann could see more than one viewpoint, didn't mean he wouldn't criticize it. In his opinion, the only way he could criticize anything was to understand it first. And he welcomed his methodologies being critiqued as well. But Penny and him clashed because they'd known each other so well, that they ended up knowing how to push each other's buttons just like that and get under each other's skin. "We - ah - we didn't see eye to eye. And the more I got obsessed with supernatural and occult stuff, the more I...well. I ignored her. I sold her stuff for money to buy things I thought were valuable, I couldn't hold a job or pay our rent. I wasn't very good at keeping house either," Iann said with a rueful smile. "She was trying to balance work, school, and a 'lazy' husband. I was angry at her for not believing me and understanding how important my research was. That it meant more than all that stupid boring normal shit like 9-5 jobs and washing dishes. The more she wanted me to spend time with her and talk with her and go out and do all the fun stuff we used to do, the more I pushed her away because it all just...god it had seemed so pointless. I was on the verge of realizing werewolves and vampires and witches were real. Who had time to watch late night TV with your wife?" Iann lay his head back against the wall. "She wanted to know more about my family. I never told her about the brothel, hm? I was too ashamed of...of my Ma. I thought Penny would judge them. And her family haaaaated me, I was such a fucking deadbeat who cared more about fairy tales then about their precious little mija."

Things like this Bellamy could understand a bit more fully. Relationships were vastly complex as she had come to feel. There was no part of her that imagined one particular party was at fault for them no longer being in a relationship. Besides, she felt when it came to such things she could easily support a friend with acknowledging that they were not the only person scorned in such an instance. Iann did not sound a particularly good husband from the way he described things but she also imagined that he was purposefully putting a lot of the blame onto himself. "You certainly sound a lot younger than you are now," she said because that was mostly what she was getting from Iann. Bits and pieces of him that were not as they were now. He had his business with Freddie, he half-watched her ridiculous reality television shows and vampire movies while he did his own work, he had told her about his mother and her business a long time ago. He might have been untraditional in the way he lived his life but she did not ever see him as a deadbeat. "It's not shocking to think they would think that way," Bellamy said of her family. "And it's not surprising you're divorced but perhaps she would enjoy at least knowing who you are now. To think that perhaps leaving one another had made you each better. I like to imagine Isaiah is happier now than when we each expected such different things of one another. Besides, perhaps she'll have some interesting things for you to find out about, if I'm not the only special person they have then there must be a dozens of interesting sub-species," she reasoned, rubbing her head on his chest.

"I was a lot younger," Iann said with a smile. "It was almost twenty years ago, hm? You? You would've been...jesus. You would've been four, five years old? Think how much you've changed in the little time that I've met you. Of course things were a lot different then. I was an asshole, for one. I never - I never hurt her, not physically, but. I know I said some pretty terrible things." Penny said terrible things back to him of course, but Iann could excuse that now that he was older. Back then, he'd felt sorry for himself, felt that Penny had mistreated him and bullied him and didn't care about him. It took a long time for Iann to realize where he'd gone wrong, even if he wasn't sure he could forgive Penny. Or if there was even anything to forgive. It was the same as his mother - things had been so complicated between them, and Iann's worst time happened around the time that Iann had met Penny. Penny was innocent to it all, but Iann had used her as a weapon to push back and isolate himself from Mala and the brothel, he used Penny's bright, happy, wonderful normalness against the dysfunction of his mother. And then, when he got married, he turned on Penny and blamed her for being so fucking boring and normal. How could he explain any of this to Bellamy? He tried, telling her as much as he could. "I don't think she really needs to care about how I am now. I don't want to show her anything, she - after everything I did and didn't do, I doubt the last thing Penny should give a damn about, is what a great, stand-up guy I am. The damage has already been done, mija. No one likes knowing they were the stepping stone who had to put up with my awful shit, to my personal growth. That wasn't her job, to improve me."

"Four," Bella answered. It was odd to imagine that. Imagine Iann was so much her senior. He really could pass for her father, perhaps not based on their appearance but if based on age alone. It would not be so completely easy to understand exactly what Iann felt and what Iann perceived. "It's not really about that though," she continued to reason. "It's not about thinking she was some kind of personal growth for you, I'm saying personally if one of my exes came into my life again I'd like to know the choices I had made hadn't only benefitted myself, that person mattered to me, them being happy matters to me. If you want to talk to her I just don't see why you shouldn't at least give her the option because there is every chance she wants to, for her own reasons, she loved you, at the very least."

Iann was quiet for a long time, and then eventually he just curled his hand around Bellamy's head and kissed her forehead. It wasn't like he just wanted to dismiss what Bellamy said to him, but Iann just didn't know how to respond. He was slow when it came to emotional things, especially things that had been this deeply locked away, and now the doors were burst open. So he had nothing to say but he didn't know how to say it. "Thank you, Belle," Iann said instead, hoping she'd understand that he'd listened he just needing time (time that he didn't have).

Bella rested against him, allowing him to merely take in her words and think on them if he decided. Pushing him to speak on things now was no longer her first way of getting to know him where it had once been an easy go to. "You could sleep, if you like," she told him, wondering if he had done much of it over the past few days. Bellamy hadn't but she didn't need to sleep, she slept out of habit and out of comfort. If they were to escape this place, especially running beyond where Penny could assist them then he'd need to rest. "I'll wake you if anything happens or when Penny arrives," she whispered.

When Bellamy suggested sleep, Iann didn't realize how sleep deprived he was until he heard her ask. He nodded and curled against her and closed his eyes - and true to Iann, the moment he did, he fell fast asleep. And snored rather loudly against Bellamy's neck.

It did not bother Bellamy that he snored, in a way it was a comfort. It meant that he was alive and there with her. Not exactly the most comforting, she would have preferred for him that he be home, but for her having him there helped her stay calm. Even if she had not behaved as easily as she did back home she decided it was not a total fuck up on her part, she hadn't hurt him, she hadn't killed anyone that wasn't trying to kill her and she remained in control of her own mind.

Unsure of how long it had been, time never passing for Bellamy at the same speed in her head, when she heard the door open, she shook Iann quickly, keeping her golden eyes on the door to see who had come in.

It was hours later when the power went out, and the emergency lights blinked on, bright and green and flickering. Almost immediately, Penny came into the room, followed by five other black-op members. She looked grim and baleful at Bellamy and Iann, but opened the glass door and reached out for Bellamy so she could undo the vampire's restraints. "I'll take you as far as the exit but from there you're on your own," she stated matter-of-factly as her friends guarded the entrance. "We're in Ohio, out in the middle of nowhere but there's a gas station two miles from here. I'm sure you'll know how to find your way home from there," Penny said to Iann, implying that it could steal a car. "C'mon, follow me."

#gun tw #violence tw #blood tw #ianncardero #chatzy #chatzy: iann #iann and bella will have a travelling back chatzy #but i'll be posting an open text starter tomorrow probably to announce she is back

[isabellasroberts-archive]

how deep is the ocean?: an au isabelle/maia fic based on this post by @that-bookish-nephilim

i.

“You know, it’s impolite not to answer when someone’s talking to you.”

Studying to be a forensic pathologist was already hard enough without having to deal with a guy trying to hit on you. Isabelle was grabbing the book’s cover with such force that her knuckles were white, but she sighed, trying not to make a scene. The whole situation must’ve been looking tremendously funny from the outside, she thought, because who on Earth tries to hit on someone in a library? But, obviously, she wasn’t on the outside. She was the one that had to deal with this. She didn’t even want to look at the guy’s face, so she decided to stare at the summer rain through the windows.

“It’s impolite to insist when someone tells you they’re not interested.”

“But that’s what girls always say.” He smirked, the kind of smirk that would’ve looked attractive in other contexts, but made her want to punch the guy in the face in this one. “You know, to play hard to get.”

“Too sad that’s not the case, right?” That was a voice she had never heard before, and she felt a leather-covered arm embracing her shoulders even before she could realize what was going on. She looked up as unnoticeably as she could, and she found a smiley black girl standing right beside her, with a bunch of books firmly gripped by her left hand. The smirk on the guy’s face transformed almost magically in a scowl of pure discontent. “Are you planning on leaving that seat any sooner?” she added.

“And who are you, her girlfriend?”

“Yes.” Oh, well, she’d gotten a girlfriend out of nowhere. Not that she was going to complain, of course.

“That’s not even true! You—you don’t even know her!” A few people turned around to tell him to shut up, and the only thing the unknown girl did was to shrug. “You’re annoying people, so…” She raised her hand from Izzy’s shoulder to make a vague gesture, leave.

The guy ended up leaving a few minutes later, and Isabelle, for the first time in months, maybe years, didn’t know what to say. On one hand, she was grateful, but on the other, this girl had left her with the feeling that she hadn’t been able to defend herself. That she’d been useless, that she couldn’t deal with her problems without help. So she opted for the easy way out: “Thank you”. Now that she could look at her freely, she smiled at herself for having been her fake girlfriend for a few minutes; this girl was quite beautiful, she thought. Her dark curls framed her face perfectly, and she was wearing this pretty black shirt of a band Isabelle had never heard of before. “He’d been staring creepily at you for a while now, so, uh, I figured it’d be only a matter of time until he’d start bothering you.” She took the seat the guy had left empty behind him, and those words made images materialize in Isabelle’s memory: the same white, light haired boy waving a hand at her while sitting a few tables away from her, or leaning on a pillar and staring at her from a distance. Though in those moments she hadn’t really cared, she realized the meaning of them now. She opened her mouth to say something in return, but the girl had already opened one of the heavy books she’d been carrying and was absorbed by it. Izzy gave the text a fugitive look, trying to guess what the girl was reading, and some pictures of what looked like algae caught her attention. If the girl noticed what she was doing, she gave no sign of it, so Isabelle was forced to mind her own business.

She whispered a goodbye and waved her hand at the girl reading about the sea when she left, and the girl waved back.

ii.

Working with Magnus was quite an experience, lacking other expressions to accurately describe it. Especially since Alec had waited for Izzy outside the police station to go and have lunch together. Weird as it was, working gave her a peace she could find almost nowhere, and Magnus added the humor it needed.

“Are you almost done?” he asked while putting gloves on.

She smiled. “Patience is a virtue, my dear.”

“Speaking of, how’s Alexander?”

“He’s fine.” She smiled; there was no way she had not seen it coming. She made a gesture for Magnus to come nearer her, without taking her eyes off the body they had in front of themselves. “It’s decomposing,” she added. “You know, it’s quite hard to know if he’s interested,” he said, “I mean, I can’t see why he wouldn’t be…” With the corner of her eye, she saw him take a scalpel and start examining the body.

“Well, we both know he isn’t exactly warm, right?” she made a pause and then added, “I’ll go report my preliminary findings, I guess you’ll manage to have everything under control in here.” Magnus smiled, in a way that said how can you doubt me?

She came out of the room, found a computer and started typing as fast as she could. As soon as it was printed, she started walking through the hallways looking for Luke… And when she did, she noticed that he was having an enthusiastic conversation with a girl, standing beside his desk. Isabelle stood near, waiting, but the conversation didn’t seem to be ending anytime soon and her ears started itching with awkwardness. She came a little closer, and called, “Luke.” She handed him out the printed paper; the girl had also turned around to see who’d spoken. And it was the same girl she’d met a few days ago at the library. They both didn’t know what to say: they’d had expected their encounter to be a one-time thing, a little gesture of kindness and nothing else; to never see each other again. But at the same time, it had been kind of a thing that you don’t easily forget. “Isabelle, this is Maia,” Luke spoke before any of them said a thing. “Isabelle works here as a forensic pathologist, and Maia…”

“We’re kind of family,” she explained.

“I’m an intern, actually,” Izzy fixed. “And we kind of have already met before.” They both smiled a little because of the memory. Luke raised his eyebrows. “I think Maia–” she felt a weird happiness derived from finally knowing what her name was– “can tell you that story, I gotta go back to work.”

And they waved goodbye for the second time.

iii.

“Oh my god, Alec,” she protested, though keeping a smile on her face, “we’re already here, okay? You can’t go back now.”

“Uh, I can—” but the door to Magnus’s place opened before he could say anything else. They entered; the place was wide and full of people that, save for Magnus, neither Isabelle nor Alec had ever met. But Alec had little to worry about that, because Magnus grabbed him lightly by the arm and took him away from the crowd.

The first thought that flashed through Izzy’s mind was that the house owner had quite a lot of money; more than the Lightwoods, and that was to say. The atmosphere was more of a meeting than a party, and people were talking in small groups with drinks in their hands. Magnus had even hired a group of people to bartend, where… of course, there she was, with a white shirt and a black bowtie. She had to be where Isabelle least expected her. She approached, “We won’t stop running into each other, won’t we?”

“I had my doubts before, but now I’m almost positive we won’t.” Maia smiled. “I didn’t expect you, you know any of these people?”

Isabelle quickly shook her head. “No one besides Magnus and my big brother over there,” she explained, pointing towards their direction. “Though I didn’t expect you here either.”

“Well, I’ve got a talent and Magnus appreciates it,” Maia said half-joking, “You want anything?”

“Uh, red wine is good.”

“Red wine is boring. It matches your dress, though, so you win.” She served a glass of it and gave it to Isabelle.

“How you know Magnus, though?”

“I bartend at the Hunter’s Moon,” she explained, “you know, uh, it’s a bar…” she spoke slowly; she’d started and now didn’t know what else to say.

“Yeah, I’ve been there a few times,” was Isabelle’s answer. And that was it, they’d run out of things to say. Her cheeks had started to itch with nervousness, and that made her smile even though there was no reason to do so. Maia murmured something and went to serve other people, but Isabelle just stayed where she was; having given the room another wide look, she knew that was the best place she could be: Magnus had already caught Alec’s full interest, and without them, the only person she could be with was Maia. There also were the other people that made the room so crowded, but she wasn’t sure she’d want to get to know them. They all looked as extravagant as Magnus was, and she didn’t want to deal with it, even if she was thinking with pure prejudice.

“Uh, Maia?” she’d found out something, she was mentally high-fiving herself. The girl she had referred to made an affirmation sound behind her, and Isabelle turned around to face her. “Do you know if Luke was planning on coming?”

“Obviously not.” She smiled; Isabelle didn’t know if Maia knew she already knew the answer to that question, and had only asked to talk to her. “I think Magnus invited him, they’re kinda close. But we both know he’d never come. I mean, can you imagine?” she laughed; her laugh was brief, kind of melodic, and quite contagious.

That night, they waved goodbye for the third time. But this time, they exchanged phone numbers. Because, as Maia had said, “We should hang out sometime, don’t you think?”

iv.

Trying to hang out with Maia was way more complicated than they’d both thought. They were hardly available, and it was kind of frustrating. Isabelle didn’t ask and Maia had said that “she’d explain when they meet again”. She hoped she had a good explanation, how could bartending take so much time?

But patience was a virtue Isabelle thought she had, and almost a month had to pass before they could finally arrange something. A text appeared on the screen of Izzy’s phone: there’s an open mic at the hunter’s moon this Saturday at like, 10pm. (i dont know why you look like youd be interested in that kind of things). Another one: my shift ends at around that time so maybe you wanna come???

Isabelle didn’t generally smile at her phone; she was good at keeping her emotions to herself instead of looking kind of dumb smiling at a screen. But obviously, there are exceptions to every rule.

She was at the Hunter’s Moons’ door at 09.59 on Saturday. “This can’t be right”, she thought as she was walking around the block to not be way too punctual, and she stopped at the door again when she thought she’d made enough time. It was 10.03, but, oh, well. There was nothing she could do. There was a big, colorful sign at the door that stated, “Open Mic Tonight! At 10.00pm” with some sketched microphones and mouths around the words. She thought she could recognize Clary’s handwriting. She entered the bar, where reigned a calm, almost warm atmosphere. There was soft music playing in the background and, over it, a lot of people holding different conversations. Quite a lot of people were there, all in their seats in front of a small stage with a microphone. Being at the back, she could recognize Clary’s red hair, and guessed she was seated next to Jace and Simon, but she couldn’t find Maia until she went up the stage.

“Uh…” Everyone stopped talking at her sight, which made her smile. “Hi, I’m Maia…” some people’s drunk voices said ‘hi, Maia’ in return. “I have the list of speakers here—” she raised a notebook— “so if anyone wants me to put them on the list, I’ll be sitting over…” she gave the room a wide look and, after seeing Isabelle, she pointed at where she was with a vague hand gesture. “… There. I think you already know the deal but, in case someone doesn’t, you just get up here and do whatever you want. Read a quote from a book you like, a poem, sing a song, stare at the crowd in silence…” Some people laughed at that last sentence, and Isabelle drew a smile on her face. Maia shrugged and went to sit with her.

“I’m sorry,” was the first thing she said instead of ‘hi’. “It’s just… It’s been crazy, I had to study a lot…”

“It’s okay,” Isabelle nodded a little bit to reinforce her words. “What are you majoring in? We didn’t talk about that, the last time we saw each other.”

“Oh, we… didn’t?” She seemed surprised, as if she had as a habit to talk about her major with everyone. “Marine biology,” she answered. “So, yeah, the bartending is more like a temporary thing…” Some people approached and asked Maia to include them in the list, and she did, with a calligraphy so messy she was the only one she could understand. Later, Isabelle would realize that she wasn’t writing their names but distinct physical traits so she’d be able to call them later and indicate them to take the stage (obviously, no one would have a name as long as ‘weird guy with blue hair’ or ‘drunk blond with green day tshirt’).

Then, Clary came closer. “Can you include Simon on that list? You know, we want him to sing but he’s not cooperating…”

“So now you’re forcing him.” Maia finished the sentence for her.

“Yeah, basically.”

“I like that attitude.” She smirked and wrote down ‘Simon’.

When everyone had left them alone, Maia had lost the thread of what she was saying. Isabelle looked up: there was a guy reading an extract from Les Misérables, and his French pronunciation was so perfect that it made her jealous. She opened her mouth to make a dumb comment about it, but changed her mind mid-sentence: “You know, he’s… Uh, you were saying.”

She laughed. “I was saying he’s what?”

Isabelle blushed a little, hoping she wouldn’t notice. “I meant, you were saying something. About bartending being temporary? And marine biology? Before they came over.” She made a gesture, pointing towards the boys that had interrupted them.

“Oh. Yeah. I wasn’t thinking about bartending my whole life, I don’t wanna stand drunk people for the rest of my days… And I’ve always liked the sea, so… Marine biology. The dream is to transfer to the Columbia program, but…” she made a gesture that said, I don’t know, let’s not talk about that. “How’s forensic pathology, though? Isn’t it kinda disgusting?”

Isabelle laughed. “Well, not to me, but obviously that’s what I do, so I don’t know if my point of view counts.”

“It does, though, it’s you I’m asking.”

“Well, it’s just…” she had to stop herself, and shrugged. “I can’t describe it in a way that doesn’t sound morbid, to be honest. It’s interesting, and it kinda gives me some peace. But it’s not for everyone, I guess.”

Maia nodded. “The peace thing sounds morbid.” They both laughed.

Isabelle had never been to an open mic before, and didn’t know if this would count as a first time, considering she’d listened more to Maia’s words than to those spoken on stage. She still caught some excerpts from poems, and some people had even sung some nice things. But when Simon got on stage, she thought it would be only fair if she shut up and listened. Well, even if she’d wanted to keep talking, Maia clearly didn’t: her full attention was on him now. Clary had had to push him a little, and he had accepted his faith at the end. It was good, the song was calm and overall beautiful: he knew how to play the guitar well and had a nice voice. At first, Isabelle thought that the song wouldn’t sound good if he was nervous, but singing, apparently, gave him the same peace work gave Izzy. And he could transmit that peace, too: everyone in the room but him was in silence, and Maia’s eyes had enlightened. I wish I could make someone’s eyes enlighten like that, Isabelle thought.

“I had a great time.” Isabelle said when both of them were alone in the darkness. They both smiled, almost in unison. “I’d never been to something like this, but you were right saying I’d be into it.”

“Well, I’m… happy I was right.”

“Also…, you and Simon?” Isabelle hit her lightly with her elbow.

“What?”

“You know what I’m talking about.”

“There’s nothing going on between me and Simon.”

Isabelle raised one of her eyebrows.

“Why would I lie to you?” Maia was still smiling, and that made Izzy happy: she didn’t want her to get mad at her for a thing as lame as that. “Really! We just met, I owe nothing to you, why would I lie?”

“’s okay. Just… you know, if you want something, just go for it. If you never take a chance, you’ll regret it.” They both stayed in silence for a while, but it wasn’t uncomfortable, as it had been when they’d met at Magnus’s. That awkwardness had vanished. “You want me to walk you home?”

“No. No, thank you.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah,” the smile hadn’t gone away. “Sure.”

They waved goodbye for the fourth time.

v.

Months had passed and that encounter hadn’t been the only one. It had become a sort of habit to pass by the Hunter’s Moon not to have a drink, but to say hi and have a nice conversation with Maia. The more Isabelle thought about it the more she was convinced of the weirdness of it all, especially because of the way they’d first met; it had been an almost fictional thread of coincidences. But she was grateful it’d happened, and she was almost sure Maia thought the same thing.

And that day was one of those habitual days. She headed to the bar behind which Maia was standing, and sat. She smiled at the bartender, and couldn’t help but notice that there was something wrong: she wasn’t smiling, her eyes weren’t as bright. She wanted to say hi, but instead “Is everything okay?” came out of her mouth.

“Yeah, don’t worry,” was her answer. Izzy didn’t believe her, but didn’t push it either; she’d speak as soon as she’d want to. “I mean, you didn’t come here to listen to all of my problems.”

“No, but, you know, I know it’s none of my business, but if you want someone to talk to…”

Maia nodded. “Thank you.” Though she didn’t say anything else.

They stayed in silence for a while so long that Izzy pulled a book out of her bag and started reading. (For fun, obviously, she didn’t want her brain to melt all of the sudden.) She could’ve easily gone to her place and read there, but she felt there was an implicit message in what she was doing: I’m still here. Even if we’re not having a conversation or you’re not paying attention to me, I’m still here. She didn’t know if Maia would catch it, but it was worth a try.

She heard Maia’s voice long minutes later. “You know, the bar is kind of a messy place for that, unless your goal is to have 1984 coated in beer.” When Izzy looked up, she was smiling, but that kind of smile you only make with the lower part of your face. Her eyes were still sad. “You can sit at one of those tables over there.” She pointed towards them, and Isabelle did as she was told without arguing.

The night became darker as each minute passed, and people went in and out of the bar. She still didn’t move from where she was sitting; at moments she feared she was being way too annoying and that she should just go and try another day; she even pictured herself getting up and leaving the place in her mind, but she couldn’t get her limbs moving.

She didn’t know how much had passed until she felt a presence. An hour? An hour and a half? But she looked up and Maia was there. “May I?” She said, pointing with her head to the seat in front of Isabelle. She nodded and Maia seated, pulling out a book of her own. “I’ve never read Jane Eyre,” Izzy said, and regretted her words immediately afterwards. What the fuck did she care? “It’s good,” she answered. “All those shitty movie adaptations don’t do it justice, though.”

They weren’t speaking nor looking at each other, but they still were together, weirdly accompanying each other.

They stayed like that, in silence, for at least half an hour, until Maia closed her book. “You know…” when she heard her voice, Isabelle closed her book, too, and raised her eyebrows so she would continue. “… I’m going through a moment when… You know when you have a bad memory, and you can live for a while, like, ignoring it? Pretending it never happened? Or just, I don’t know, you can just go through life without thinking about it? But then it suddenly comes back to you and you can’t get it out of your mind, it’s everything you can think about?”

“Yeah, I… yeah.” She had some of those on her mind.

“Well, that’s what’s going on. Sometime I’ll tell you about it,” she added, “it’s just not a good time right now.”

This time, Maia let Isabelle walk her to her place. They walked through the city in silence.

“Thank you,” Maia said when they’d gotten there. “For, you know, just… being there.”

“’s okay.”

They had run out of things to say again. Isabelle’s heart had started to beat faster and she hadn’t noticed. And then Maia leaned over and kissed her. All of her muscles unclenched. That was it, what she’d been waiting for, that thing she’d wanted but didn’t know what it was. And she finally understood that something else gave her peace outside of work; not a thing, not a place, but a person. They turned away. Isabelle remembered that time when they’d heard Simon singing, how Maia’s eyes had enlightened. They had that same bright right now.

“If you want something, you gotta go for it, right?”

And they kissed goodbye for the first time.

(vii. also known as ‘the cute scene you came here for’)

Silence was all that could be heard in that room. The blinds had been effortlessly shut, so strips of light could enter anyway. On the bed were two dark silhouettes: one of them was laying, and the other one was half-seated.

Maia looked at her partner, trying to move as little as she could. The sheets were warm against her naked skin. She couldn’t see what time the clock across the room marked, but she could guess it was pretty late at night. Maybe three, four o’clock in the morning? It’s not that she really wanted to know anyway; knowing for a fact that she was having trouble sleeping would only stress her out.

Izzy slept with her back to the ceiling, and hid her arms under the pillow. Maia thought that nights were the few moments where she didn’t have makeup on. She wasn’t going to say something stupid on the lines of Isabelle being so much beautiful without makeup on, or how she’d better stop wearing it; her being bare-faced wasn’t better nor worse, just… different. Unusual. She opened her mouth, didn’t say a word and shut it. She wasn’t sure it was the right time… No, she was sure it wasn’t. But she didn’t know what would happen if she didn’t speak, now that she wanted to; maybe the will would never come again. “Izzy, are you awake?” She moved and grunted lightly. She also had light sleep.

“I am now,” she said; her voice was soft and she spoke slowly, as if she had forgotten the language while she was sleeping and had to re-learn it all of the sudden.

“Sorry.” It was fine. She could wait until tomorrow morning. But Isabelle cut the silence some minutes later. “Nah, girl, you already woke me up. Now you’re gonna talk, ‘kay?”

“What?”

“You woke me up ‘cause you wanna tell me something.” She still hadn’t opened her eyes.

“Maybe I was just checking.”

“You just gave yourself away.”

Maia laughed a bit, the kind of laugh that comes out almost without a sound.

“It’s just…” She stopped herself again. She’d just ruin the atmosphere. She didn’t know if it was worth it. And also she had so many thoughts in her head, she didn’t know how to put them in order. An ‘mmhm?’ came out of Izzy’s lips. “Remember that time when… you know, the first time we kissed?”

“You think I’d forget?”

“You remember that I was feeling kind of… sad? Because I had something that I kept going over in my mind?” Izzy made an affirmation sound again. “It’s just that it’s been years since I’ve spoken to either of my parents. You know, my brother died. And he was the favorite, he always was. So without him, I felt kinda… forgotten. And I ran away.”

She could hear Isabelle turning, but she didn’t look at her. She felt the back of her ears itching, and she embraced herself a little; she didn’t want to know what that girl thought of her now. But she ended up looking at her at the end, and in her eyes was… something like pity. And that was the feeling she exactly had wanted to avoid; she didn’t want pity, she wanted… Understanding? Even if those two feelings weren’t mutually exclusive and she couldn’t control other people’s feelings. Isabelle took her hand. Now she was fully awake.

“Do you want to speak to them again?”

Maia thought about it. “Yes. It’s just—I feel way too guilty. I’m not sure how I’ll be able to look at them in their eyes again.”

“They’ll forgive you,” she said without a doubt. “They’ll be angry at you at first, I guess, but they’ll forgive you.”

They stayed in silence for a long while, with their fingers entangled.

“What about you, though?” Maia spoke again.

“My parents?”

“Yeah.”

Isabelle sighed and lay her head upon Maia’s shoulder. “Well, uh… It’s kinda complicated. I mean, my mom expects nothing but perfection. Or at least she used to. She’s much calmer now,” she explained. “And my dad… He was my favorite of the two. He used to be the person I could always come back to, you know? When I was upset, or sad, or just wanted to talk to someone and Alec wasn’t around… He was. But he cheated on my mom. So I—I don’t know. I felt like I couldn’t trust him anymore, that it was a lie, all of it.”

Maia didn’t know what to say. She wasn’t going to go with an ‘I didn’t know’ because, obviously she didn’t. But apparently she didn’t need to, because Izzy kept talking regardless. Between the two of them, she was the one that did the talking. “But I have my brothers. You know, Alec, Max, and Jace.”

“Jace?”

“Yeah. His parents died, so mine adopted him. I think he was the favorite.” Maia didn’t understand where that comment had come from, but then she remembered her own words. “Or maybe Alec. But I definitely wasn’t.” She laughed a little.

“I fucked Jace.” That sentence came out of her lips almost automatically, without thinking, even before Maia could stop herself from saying it.

“You—wait, what?” Isabelle rearranged herself on the bed. The moonlight that filtered through the blinds showed Maia that she wasn’t angry; she was smiling, actually. But that tone hadn’t been anger, just surprise. She didn’t know why she’d thought Isabelle would be angry at that fact, but she was happy she wasn’t.

“Yeah.” Maia laughed with relief. “It was fun, nothing else, but…”

“You know, I’ve never been with a girl before.” That was surprising. Maia raised her eyebrows in disbelief. She was so… confident. So beautiful. The kind of beautiful you expect to have people waiting in line to be with her. She opened her mouth, but, again, Isabelle was faster. “I mean I knew there was… something. Going on. But, for example, with you… I felt like we were just good friends. Like, really good friends?” Her smile widened. “Until we kissed. And, you know that feeling when you’re in class, and you understand nothing, but then something, like, unlocks? And you’re like… oh, now I get it. Yeah. That was the feeling.”

“So I’m special,” Maia said.

But it wasn’t until weeks later that she understood that Isabelle would think of her as special even if she’d been with three hundred girls before her.

#shadowhunters #sh fic #isabelle x maia #isabelle lightwood #maia roberts #maiaslightwood #martina writes

[all-stars-have-shadows]

Much may be Forgotten ‘ere the Tide Runs Dry

Ladies and gentlemen, the final chapter. I feel obligated as a writer to thank those of you who have read my work, shared my work, appreciated my work. It’s been fun to write, and I hope it’s been fun to read. Also, sorry/not sorry that this chapter is twice as long as the others; I’ve never been very good at wrapping up, but I like to think I’ve done a pretty decent job. As always, you can find parts one,two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine and ten on my blog using these hyperlinks or by clicking on the “Original Writing” tab at the top of the page.

Sisters Veronica and Kathrine are in England searching for castles while Ver writes her master’s thesis. They’ve stumbled into the undocumented ruins of a castle dungeon. Hopelessly lost, they begin to realise that not only are they trapped, but they may not be alone. As they fight toward escape, they encounter one final challenge to overcome before they have a chance of seeing the sun again, and discover that Mother Nature is no idle force.

Feel free to let me know what you think! I also have quite a collection of research associated with the location and history discussed here, and I am more than happy to answer any questions you have about that. **Please make sure my name goes with all of my writing, this is an original work and all characters and plots are my own creation.**

Tagging @everyjourneylove and @luckynumber1213 as per request. Thank you guys for being such faithful readers, even in spite of my odd hours and sporadic posting schedule. I hope this chapter is the ending you’ve been waiting for.

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I was beyond curses at this point. I can’t even begin to describe the despair and panic that flooded through me. By this point, the walkways on either side had narrowed to mere inches, and we were walking in the canal itself, a good five feet below the ground level. If it flooded right now, there was nowhere for us to go.

I grabbed her arm. “We have to move faster." But we couldn't. It was all the two of us could do to keep on our feet. We pressed on, hobbling as quickly as we could. The water continued to rise, covering our knees and reaching our waists with alarming speed. Our waterlogged jeans and sneakers slowed us down even more. We had left our backpacks behind hours ago.

Splash. Ver tripping and was flung headlong into the water. She came up gasping, and I realised it was almost up to her shoulders. I was taller than her; I might be able to keep my head up, but it would cover her completely.

"Your shoes," she said, urgently. "Kick off your shoes. They'll only drag you down when you try to swim." A sudden wave slapped her in the face, leaving her with a mouthful of seawater.

We lived for a long time on the shores of Lake Superior. We used to go boating, fishing, and swimming. Until my cousin Lexi drowned. She was swimming at night on a dare, and a current just dragged her under. I was eight years old at the time, and I was terrified. I swore I'd never get that close to the water again. And so, despite living half my life next to the biggest lake in the country, I never learned to swim.

The water was over my head now. I could feel the current dragging at my shirt and the legs of my jeans. It was disorienting. Something slammed into my knees, and I lost my balance. The last thing I remember is catching a glimpse of light somewhere far ahead.

Air.

For about five seconds, everything was utterly black. Then, with a gasp, I felt air rushing into my lungs. Right that second, I swore off every substance I’d ever taken in my life. I’d have even given up coffee for one more breath of oxygen. I felt gravel digging into my cheek, water lapping gently around my waist. Slowly, painfully, I opened my eyes.

Everything was blurry. I could make out dried stalks of grass and weeds, and vaguely beyond it, water. As my mind began to clear, I could hear the water, too, crashing in the distance. I could also hear…sirens? Somewhere behind me, people were shouting in a faint jumble of voices and words. Someone touched my back.

“She’s awake!” An unfamiliar face peered down at me. “Can you hear me, miss?”

I tried to speak, choked, tried again. I heard him holler for water. A moment later, a plastic cup was pressed against my lips.

“Slowly,” he said, tipping the glass so I could drink. Someone else helped prop me up so I didn’t choke on it. I hadn’t had fresh water for days. “Now. Can you tell me your name? How did you get here?”

“Kathrine,” I rasped. “Kathrine Cutter. We were—my sister.” Panic flooded my brain. “My sister. Where is she—you have to-” I choked on the water I was trying to drink and nearly threw up.

“Already on the way to the hospital,” he answered. “We found her a kilometer further down the coast.”

Strong hands lifted me off the ground, carrying me away from the shore. “We’re going to get you to the hospital,” a woman assured me. “You’re going to be just fine.”

“Wait.” I grabbed her hand. “Wait; you can’t take me just yet. I need to speak to the police.”

“It’s going to be alright.” She said again. “You’ve been through a lot. Just rest for now, let us do our jobs.”

“No!” There was enough force in my voice to make her pause. “I need to speak with an officer. There’s a-there’s a dungeon. A labyrinth. Somewhere below where we’re standing.” Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a figure move closer, and made out the shape of a badge. Police, maybe fire department. I turned toward them. “There are…” I started coughing again. The woman at my shoulder cleared her throat impatiently. Slowly, deliberately, I turned to the officer and tried again. “There are smugglers using the tunnels of a medieval dungeon to run drugs out of Liverpool and into Ireland. Heroin, cases of it. We stumbled on two of them by accident and they trapped us in the dungeons. It’s hard to navigate, but I can get you to them. I know where to go. I remember.”

The officer knelt next to me. “Are you sure?” I nodded carefully. “Can you describe it, or them?”

“I can draw you a map. You’ll have to wait for the tide to get in, but I can draw it.”

“Tides’ already running out,” he answered. He turned to someone behind him. “Pencil and paper! Quickly!”

The nurse tried to argue, he insisted they needed it, I shut them both down with a quiet, “If I don’t do this now, I might never remember”. Pencil and paper were retrieved as requested.

And I stopped to think. I knew where we were when we’d fallen in, at least roughly. I pressed my memory for clues, directions, distances. So much of it was just a jumble of turns in the ever-curving tunnels. I started to draw, acutely aware of the number of eyes watching me as I did so. I drew the entrance point, noted that it flooded with the tide. I drew the big room with the EMP device. And then it was like the pencil just took over. Lines appeared on paper, tunnels I barely remembered walking through as my brain assembled the pieces one step at a time. Where I’d fallen in. An estimated distance from there to the oubliette room. I told them about the sobbing mine worker. I don’t know how long I sat, shivering on the road, sketching lines on a now-damp piece of paper.

“That’s it.” I shoved the paper at him. “That’s what I remember. I know it isn’t perfect, but it…it’ll get you there.”

The officer’s eyes widened as he took the proffered paper. “How could you possibly…you were dehydrated and sick, how did you remember…look at this!” he exclaimed to the officer behind him. “Compass points, distances. It’s all in feet and yards but we can…” Whatever else he said to say was lost in the whirl of officers and medical personnel. I was only vaguely aware of being rushed to an ambulance, having an IV inserted in my arm.

It was three days before they let me see my sister. I was kept in intensive care, being treated for hypothermia, dehydration, four broken ribs, and a hairline crack in my skull from being slammed about in the canal. When she finally came to visit me, on crutches and wincing, I was well enough to lean forward and give her a weak, but still heartfelt, hug.

“How’re you feeling?” she asked, maneuvering herself gingerly onto the bed. She’d done some nasty damage to one of her ankles in addition to being treated for trauma. But she was out and about, which was more than I could say.

“I’ve been worse,” I answered. She grinned faintly, then looked down at her hands, uncharacteristically shy.

“I’m sorry I dragged you into all of this,” she burst out. “The dungeon, the travelling, exploring the tunnels…all of that was my fault. And I’m sorry.”

I put a hand on her shoulder. “If you really want to apologise, there’s one thing you can do for me.”

She raised an eyebrow. “What’s that?”

“Get your Master’s degree in something else. Contact the school, tell them you’re switching from ‘dark spots of the dark ages’ to biology. Or theatre. Or American lit. Anything that doesn’t require you to travel.”

The corners of her mouth twitched. “It’s Medieval History and Lore, Kat,” she said wryly. “But you may have a point—when we get back, I am calling in a very serious meeting with my academic advisor.”

“No more crazy road trips?”

“No more crazy road trips,” she confirmed. She reached out and squeezed my arm. “Though I did do some digging after I booked flights home: did you know they’re working on a new excavation in Egypt? There’s a hidden chamber in King Tut’s tomb that they say might be the burial place of Queen Nefertiti.”

Her face was unreadable, her voice totally deadpan. I gave her a look. “You’re out of your mind.”

She burst out laughing. “Maybe. I mostly just wanted to see what you would do. Although I am serious—archaeologist do think that judging from thermal imaging, there are at least two different tunnels that no one knew about before. For a long time they’ve been speculating on why his tomb is so much smaller, but if there are new tunnels then that means he…”

I let her talk. Ver is never happy unless she has something to obsess about. I was more interested in the first fact she’d dropped: she’d booked flights. We were going home.

As we boarded the airplane a week later, still battered and sore, but ready to go home, I felt a slight shiver run down my spine. We’d had such a hard time explaining to mom what had happened. I certainly couldn’t begin to think of what I was going to tell my friends. I’d spoken with Scotland Yard again, and with an archaeologist who wanted me to help them map out the tunnels more thoroughly, maybe even fly me back for some serious intern work. They, too, were waiting for a reply. But as we taxied down the runway and took to the wide blue sky, I was struck with the thought that maybe I didn’t have to tell anyone anything. No tales of adventure. No tunnel maps, no international visits. Maybe some things truly are better left alone. Deep below the surface, cut off by the tide, maybe some things are meant to be forgotten.

#original work #fiction #Much may be Forgotten #part 11 #final chapter

[smurfettte]

💎✖️️💕🍳🍭😂

DOTT IM SO SORRY I JUST SAW THIS TY

Im still using sm*rf bc i dont want it to show up in the tags its annoying and im sry

💎 - when and how did you discover your special interest?

Ooh this goes way back.

Well, when i was about nine my parents first seperated (they did twice, ultimately getting divorced 2nd time around) for a period of two years, and during that time we had very, very little money because my mom was a stay at home mom for years and had to get a job too, so we basically had to cut, like, everything/anything extra that we didnt need. The best my mom could do so we didnt get a total shock on top of everything was to get us the smallest cable package possible (im pretty sure it was way cheaper back then too, idk if even that would be manageable now) where we had just like, a little cluster of channels; one of those was boomerang. I was really, really sad about loosing cartoon network, so my mom hyped me up about being able to watch sm*rfs, even though i only had a very vague idea of what they were. From there, it kind of just became my permanent special interest. My mom and i watched it together a lot since her mom played into the really strange christian propaganda of “demonizing” cartoons that was everywhere in the 80s when she grew up. She would bribe her brother not to rat her out when she would sneak-watch it on saturday mornings and tbh that would literally be me

✖ - Is there something you Dont like about your special interest?

Definitely. The author of the original comics was uh… a really sexist, probably racist and a homophobic guy. Which, really shows in his earlier works – the full sm*rfette story is honestly much worse than the concepts of her origin that were kept in the cartoon. The 80s retelling is basically the comic but heavily censored for over obviously sexist content, while still being sexist in itself (just in a way where, maybe for younger viewers or a blind eye, its not obvious at first). Honestly just the treatment of most of the female characters is my complaint in the way a lot of them are portrayed, but especially sm*rfette. She cant do one self indulgent thing for herself without it being ridiculed or often portrayed as wrong, even when shes like the smartest and most caring person in the village. Its annoying and not a good message at all.

Also, it tries to be written as insanely het all the time and just isnt. Like its so gay and theres so many moments where youre like “ppl really tried to pass this as het…bitch” but time and time again… straight people think its reasonable that an entire village is attracted to. a single person (who most of the time heavily shys away from affection from men too, lmfao…). REALLY hoping the new movie addresses that in some way thats not bad, but im trying not to get my hopes up (ive got my hopes up).

💕 - Something you like about your Special Interest?

Honestly this is a lot of things, but i would have to say?? Like. Everything, except the things i dont like ^. Its constantly been such a comfort to me in so many ways. I love the characters, i love how it was my first real introduction to fairytale fantasy (aside from disney) and its just… so calming. Some people find it boring and annoying, but for me it was so easy to fall in love with and kept me company/calmed me down during some of the worst times ive ever had. Even when some of those worst times were because people would make fun of me for loving it.

🍳 - do you have a stim related to your special interest?

In a few ways, yea! I do!

I always compare it to this, but i think being surrounded in things related to it is a kind of visual stim that relates to the old woman who wants most everything in her house to be green. Just as it makes her feel calm, happy, and energetic, i have the same expirience but i sm*rf theme as many things as i can, and collect ALOT. I try to be surrounded by it as much as possible, and it always helps me to feel happy and calm. If im not in a space where its all around, i’ll have sm*rf things that i use day to day, like my wallet, cups, things like that. It always provides a feeling of happiness and safety.

Another for a physical stim is that i have a sm*rfette themed slime that one of my best friends made me for christmas! (He made a little white hat to put over the lid too, it was so sweet). Its a glittery blue, and has lots of gold, blue, and flower shaped sequins in it! i love squishing gooey and squeezable stuff. Textures like that are the best ever.

🍭- a headcanon/theory you have about your special interest?

This is gonna be long and im sorry i talk so much, but Brainy, Grouchy, Clumsy, and Fette (so i dont have to block out the full word again) are all autistic!

- Brainy expiriences a lack of empathy, tends to micromanage more than one usually would (especially if one of his special interests are involved/its something he came up with himself) and, as mentioned, expiriences special interests (a need for worldly knowledge – especially of magic, and for papa, who he constantly seeks to impress and be respected by, no matter what it takes. He loves him and wants to be just like him, and often does things for him out of the blue just so he’ll appreciate and recognize him + his potential). He stims by chewing (probably with the handle of a wand) and by writing + drawing swirly doodles on paper with his quill pen. He infodumps, and he usually lacks an understanding of social cues; this often leads to him making “bad decisions” being highly ridiculed, often overshadowed by his peers.

- Clumsy does not quickly process information + events, his comfort object(s) is/are his continuously growing rock collection/garden that he waters and talks to everyday, he stims by flapping and jumping, and is very uncoordinated. There are often ‘simple’ things that confuse him that he is unable to figure out quickly (like putting together things that fold up - chairs, foldable tables where u have to specifically press something, stuff like that. I think its an autistic thing even though im not able to describe it very well since ive struggled w it all my life myself and i always get weird looks when i cant do it) and his special interest is Brainy. Because he is physically incoordinated and processes information slow, though people do stick up for him, he can often recieve even worse treatment from those around him than Brainy does, on top of being easily able to manipulate due to him being so easily trusting and loving. Because of this, him and Brainy often do everything together, and eventually their mutual love for each other + relatability brings them to be almost inseperable (even if Brainy looses his patience more than he should sometimes). aka theyre boyfriends it rly shows

- Fette struggles with anxiety (as alot of autistic people, like myself, do) and has hyper-empathy. Similar to Clumsy, Fette seeks comfort in her flower garden and flowers in general, often holding conversations with them. This actually is a real theory, but she believes that talking to the flowers will help them to grow, and cherishes them as if they were people. She knows the name of every flower in the forest and could tell you at LEAST 5 facts about every single one. She stims by flapping, jumping, and chewing on her hair. Fette is quick to act to situations whether good or bad, and raised voices from others can often send her towards a meltdown (in where she retreats to her house for solitude to calm down + renergize). Though she loves her friends and being with them, she is an introvert and enjoys being by herself or with her flowers to regain energy.

- Grouchy uses echolalia to express his emotions and partake in conversations, while being mostly nonverbal. He often seeks company in animals or baby sm*rf (who i believe is also his special interest) because they bring him comfort and dont ask him to explain or change who he is. He is often very distant from most people, and only opens up to being around people he feels he can trust.

😂 - something funny about your special interest?

It just made me type up like. Disorganized paragraphs when im supposed to be packing up my shit 2 go to my moms. Also just the idea that a whole village could be attracted to a single person and no one else… funnie as shit my guy

[ryanjamessalmon]

12/1/2016 - 3:07am - Being Myself

Fuck this shit. I feel like i have addressed this before but i dont know what i have been missing because right now i feel like im really on a different page than i was before. Its 3am and i just finished watching Jordan Peele’s Get Out. Check it, its weird.  There are a lot of things that i havent been addressing in my Life that have been stressing me out. Ive gotten good at managing but dealing with this shit comes with the price of putting on a front. And, to some extent at least, im a very real person. Ill call someone out if i feel like theyre on some goofy shit and i wont let people manipulate me. Ill do a guy a fucking favor because im not a prick, but im not one to be taken advantage of. But what i really have a problem with is 

(i paused here because i was thinking about typing something, but then got real and realized what the real problem was)

myself. My problem isnt that i dont speak my mind or that im not confident in my choices and taste, theyre issues but theyre only branches that all stem from one root problem. The only real problem i have is my self-relation. There are aspects about me that i dont like. There are things that i do naturally that bother me that i wish i didnt do. There are crucial components to my character that i wish i didnt have and i look at others that are different than me and part of me wishes i could be like them. Not in the sense that i want their Life, I love my Life... but i wish i didnt have this sickness that makes me question myself and want to be someone besides myself. 

And its not depression or schizophrenia or anything crazy like that, I suffer from the same thing everyone else does. The only reason that claiming to suffer from some vaguely explained sickness sounds weird to say is because everyone else hides it. Thats where the problem is really. as individuals we see that everyone around us seems to be managing themselves well enough. When everyone talks in their classes or at their jobs no one brings up the existential crisis and hallowing lonlienss that they have been going through for the entire month because everyone else is talking about how last night there was a show one of your coworkers played and you should have showed up (even though you didnt get invited). This is the sickness we all suffer from. The sickness of thinking that the dark places that we end up in when we’re alone are anything but regular. In this world its a struggle just to be, so why does this culture try to make it seem like it isnt? Life is confusing, self identity is an enigma, purpose is infinitely contemplatable, isolation is crippling and im supposed to have all that shit in check enough to deal with never ending problems that get thrown at me on a regular basis like im a lacrosse goalie trying to keep these concrete balls from A.) getting in my net and B.) breaking my collar bone and putting me in the hospital.

We’re told to live with this sickness and most people go through Life never addressing their real feelings becuase the environment that they are in crucifies anyone thats different. I mean, i guess we’re never told to live with the sickness, but no one ever talks about it so everyone keeps their mouth shut even though fucking everyone is dealing with the same dark thoughts. No one wants to feel like they are the only one that notices the fucked up world they live in. No one wants to say what they’re dealing with because of how it might sound to other people. No one wants to sound crazy, no one wants to sound like they’re a broken person, no one wants to sound defective. No one says this shit becuase they’ll sound weird, but weird is the new normal. Fuck, if you havent sat and stared at yourself in the mirror for 5+ minutes before i dont even wanna fuck with you. Addressing this kinda shit is important becasue thats how you grow. Thats how you get stronger. Its how you really learn to deal with yourself and grow into your bones. Communicating your feelings/issues/problems/fuck ups is how you figure out who you are and learn to love yourself. Life is a 

Life is something that cant even be put into words because describing it would be an insult to the beauty of it all tbh. Life is meant to be this incredible thing but We made it bad. Everyone has dreams as a kid but as this sickness grows we start to let go of dreams and accept what society tells us is right and wrong instead of listening to our own intuition. Im not here trying to say that Life should be a problemless bliss where everyone gets to do whatever they want, but everyone should feel absolutely obligated to be themselves. You would be doing yourself the greatest injustice to try and portray anyone besides your truest self at every moment. Because even if I spend my Life a college dropout working at a studio until it falls apart and i end up working in retail until im 32 going in and out of broken relationships then get a job as a manager at a mattress store before quiting and start selling hot dogs in Panama to tourists on the beach until I die, at least I can say that I was doing me the whole time, because thats a lot more than most of these bum ass people will ever be able to say.

#blogposts #blog posts