Isabelle Ariel Carlisle

Fae | 25 | Mechanical Engineer “You made a slow disaster out of me.” “i had all and then most of you, some and now none of you.”

[celeste-carlisle-deactivated202]

Divorce party. It was the strangest thing, yet here they were all night long celebrating Meredith’s divorce from her husband Patrick. Apparently, he’d been cheating on her with some human in Seattle for the past three years. Every time he left town for business for two weeks at a time it was to see them. Celeste was floored by the news and couldn’t believe someone would taint their marriage in such a manner. What happened to open communication, honesty, trust, and love?

Celeste truthfully found it a bit tasteless to be throwing such a celebration. Not that Meredith didn’t deserve better, but it was simply burning away a lifetime of memories with someone for fun. Nonetheless, she sealed her lips and was present on behalf of her friend, sipping away glasses of white wine since dinner. Now, the group of women celebrating with Meredith had entered some dance club. It was a bit jarring and Celeste had no idea how she managed to do this in her early twenties.

It was as she watched the women dance with the younger man, that she decided to walk around the perimeter, hoping that there was an inch of this place that was a bit quieter. It’s when she rounded to the left of the dance floor that she saw a familiar figure in her daughter. They were going through a rough patch with her and trying to give her space, but their behavior seemed off. As she watched Isabelle splash their drink into someone, she locked eyes with her daughter. “Isabelle Ariel Carlisle! What on earth are you doing?” she exclaimed over the pounding music.

Of all the people Isabelle expected to see at a club as seedy as this, her mother was on the bottom of her list. The sound of her full name spoken in that stern, familiar voice sent a spike of ice-cold fear coursing through her, spinning just in time to see her mother storming towards her, face pinched in anger as her eyes met her own. There was nothing like a mother’s rage to sober you up, and Isabelle straightened, eyes widening as she tugged self-consciously at the hem of her dress once more.

“…Mom? What- what are you doing here?” she stammered, taking a wobbly step towards the older woman and almost tripping in the process, arm darting out and hand gripping at her mom’s hand to steady herself. “I- I’m just out. Having a few drinks, a little dance- what- what are you doing…? Here?”

[the-abe]

Pain always haunted him when the day was ending on fill moon nights, growing fainter each time but still strong despite the years he had been turned. He sometimes was ok with sharing this pain with the pack - first the ones of Beyaz Kurtlar, enjoying mayhem and letting the animal take presence over the man inside the wolf. Then with the pack here in Greywood, running together and sharing first the pin, then the joy…

And sometimes he preferred to go through it alone, taking the truck to the outskirts of the forests so he would find solitude, neatly fold all clothes at the back and walk out and be able to shout in peace before and while the bones of his body reassembled themselves in a new form, while his teeth fell and made place for fangs and his skin shed to make room for the fur that was growing on his rapidly shrinking and growing limbs and back.

Rarely he would drive close, in a rush and tired, not prepared mentally. And this full moon was the last, going out in a rush from his home on Mystic Grove, getting on the truck and driving towards the outskirts, stopping by the side of the road as his skin had began to tingle in the familiar way, prickling with needles under it. Throwing clothes in the truck bed he had collapsed after the first few trees of the Forrest.

Tonight, as he crouched on the ground, growling and thrashing, letting all his constant guilt and anger merge so he would loose himself, he wished to stop thinking, the tiredness from his work making the process as if longer and more painful. Tonight as he had buried the remains he had shed under the dry earth he had ran with no direction and sense of his surroundings. It was impossible for him to determine time and goal, no bloodlust for prey in his mind, half conscious of his situation, more than he had been at first, less than he could be if he had made up his mind that he would take control over the beast.

But he was there enough to wonder at the howl he heard, lonelier than what he was used to. Huge paws had quickened in their pace, nails digging into fallen leaves which stuck to the muddy brown fur. The female he had found seemed scared and he could process enough to understand she hadn’t been prepared by the tattered clothes he had ran past. In wolf form Ibrahim’s strange gift to feel emotions heightened and the fear of the other wolf was crashing like tide waves against him. He was slow to approach and his tail swung behind him.

Ibrahim had to still himself inside, if he could he would have sighed. He couldn’t decide in the split seconds if the situation needed him to embrace the man and approach carefully and think rationally or let animal instinct guide him. His tongue darted and moistened his muzzle, leaning forward, hoping she would not lash out and bite him. He had no experience with new wolves and could not realize this situation may need extra care, despite being able to feel all the emotions he could not discern them enough to know how to react.

Isabelle had barely had a moment alone to process what had happened to her before a hulking figure seemed to materialise in front of her, so silent that it spooked her, and she let out another panicked whine, trying and failing to back up away from them. She felt like a newborn foal, legs trembling beneath her and paws clumsy as she seemed to stumble slightly, collapsing onto the dirt of the forest floor before trying to pull herself back up again. She felt simultaneously exhausted and filled with unbridled energy, heart thudding dangerously quickly in her chest as she stared back at the best before her, unsure what to do, how to respond.

“I- I- I don’t know what happened to me. What’s happening to me?” she croaked, the words falling from her jowls before she could even stop them, as if her thoughts had no place else to go and needed to get out. She could talk - she could talk! Her voice sounded different; low, raspy, masculine even, and as a result the words felt foreign in her mouth. She yelped as if in pain and then bark, the sound almost like a hacking cough, monstrous, ugly. And then another whine, so panicked and pained that she felt she might collapse once more, stumbling backwards and then sideways, unsure whether to run or what to do.

[mayarparker-deactivated20241110]

It was almost like putting on an old coat, talking to Isabelle again. It felt familiar, but like it didn't quite fit anymore. Like she didn't quite fit anymore. She thought again of what Ryden had said, that it was like things hadn't changed when she was gone. Maybe that was better though. There were nights she had laid awake, wondering about the hurt she had caused, scared that Shaw had gone after the people she cared about. It seemed that was not the case.

Maya shrugged, "All over. Chicago, Austin, LA, Montana." That was hardly all the places she had been. There were dozens more towns and cities that she had stopped in in the last year. Most of them she'd only seen the bus station and the inside of a motel. It counted though, she supposed. In LA, she'd done a little sightseeing. In Montana too, once she had decided to stop running. Mostly, she hoped that there wouldn't be too many follow up questions.

She smiled though when Izzy said that she had gotten her masters. "Congrats. Not that there was any doubt you would do it," she replied. She added, "Bit surprised you came back to be honest."

[isabelle-carlisle]

“Shit girl. You really have been around. What inspired all the travel? You never mentioned wanting to when we used to hang out, did it just hit you all of a sudden? Cause I get that feeling. This town can be pretty claustrophobic. Life can be pretty claustrophobic,” she chuckled darkly, thinking almost immediately of the over-bearing way in which her father had so recently invaded her personal life. Hiring a private investigator? The very thought of the thing made rage bubble up in Isabelle’s chest, and she had to swallow dryly, shaking her head slightly as she tried to turn her attention back to her old friend.

“Ah- you never know. I was due a breakdown at some point, just didn’t happen during the degree,” she mused, a bitter, sarcastic tone to her words. “Yeah? I dunno, mom and dad were really putting the pressure on for me to come back, and then I got a job offer and-“ she sighed softly, eyes dropping down to examine the ground beneath her paws. “They’ve been very… involved. It’s been a lot. Not sure if I made the right decision to be honest.”

[mayarparker-deactivated20241110]

@isabelle-carlisle

Maya climbed the stairs to Izzy's apartment. Although, she had finally gotten a haircut, she still wore her hair up in a ponytail. It felt dangerous still, somehow to wear it down. Maybe in time she would get more used to it. As she had walked over, she'd had a moment of nervousness. Isabelle had never seen her naked. But especially in the summers she'd wore plenty of skimpy clothing, which meant that her shoulder and leg, now marred with scar tissue, were on display. There was nothing to help it though.

She knocked on the front door. Now that she was here, she mostly felt curious. Maya was curious both to see Izzy's new place as well as her friends new interest in experimenting. A smile graced her features and she held up the bottle of wine she'd brought, "I bought presents."

[isabelle-carlisle]

The decision to invite Maya over had been one Izzy made in the heat of the moment, furious at Cass for parading his seemingly endless rotation of fuck buddies in front of her. The walls were thin and she was sick of hearing him with anyone that wasn’t her - she wanted to be the only one to draw those desperate moans from him, the only one he kissed, touched. She wanted him to be hers once more. She so desperately needed a distraction, needed someone else to make her feel good, someone with whom she could just give over control to, just for a night. What’s more, she genuinely did want to explore her sexuality. Sure she’d kissed girls here and there, but never more than that, and it was something she badly wanted. Maya was perfect. She was gorgeous, Izzy knew her already, and best of all? Cass would be upset if he found out they had slept together. A perfect storm.

She donned nothing more than a skimpy pair of silk pyjamas, breasts free from their usual constraints of a bra, nipples hard little nubs so visible through the sheer fabric. She was nervous, excited, a little guilty - but the second she opened the door and met the eyes of her friend, that seemed to disappear, every feeling taken over by one singular desire. To have her. To be had. “You did indeed… you’re the real present,” she grinned, tugging her into the apartment and shutting the door, leaning up to press their lips together immediately.

[isabelle-carlisle]

STARTER: Cass & Isabelle LOCATION: Isabelle’s Apartment STATUS: CLOSED

It had been a fucked few days. Asking Maya over had been fun, yes, but ultimately a huge mistake. Isa could pretend all she wanted that it hadn’t been some kind of sick tactic to make Cass jealous, that it had purely been about her exploring her queerness, but it hadn’t been. Maya had been bang on the money. And it hadn’t even really worked. But then Cass and her had found their way back to each other, in the same inexplicable way they always seemed to, and it was new and old and scary and exciting all at the same time. She loved him. She really did. Couldn’t get enough of him. He haunted her dreams, his eyes the first thing she thought of when she woke up. And now he was hers again, and she was his. Isabelle knew that once again she held his heart in her hands, once again she could ruin him, destroy him with just a few words. It was terrifying.

What’s more, she was a wolf. No longer fae, her wolf identity was making itself harder and harder to hide. She was constantly overheating, she had to shave so much more regularly. She needed less sleep, more exercise. And the moon! The moon seemed to be what her entire mental state revolved around. She felt trapped, panicked, and she knew she needed to come clean. Isa knew that Cass knew. She could hear his heart beating through the walls, could smell when he had come home, and she could only guess that for him it was the same. So of course he knew, and yet had never mentioned it. Perhaps he wanted to wait until she was ready to tell him.

She wasn’t ready, but as much as she wanted to hide her new, horrible form from him, she wanted his comforting arms around her so much more. And so there she stood, face pale and drawn, eyes filled with tears and hair up in a scraggly bun, waiting for him to come through her front door the way he always did.

@cass-evans​ 

[cass-evans]

"Brought you leaving back?" But he didn't have the energy to let it come out malicious, didn't have the energy to be angry at her or in fact anything at all but a kind of exhausted acceptance, letting her help, letting her be close to him as she once had been. As he'd thought she would be for longer, before it all imploded and he'd somehow been left feeling more alone than before.

"I won't be able to sleep," he said quietly, eyes closed, letting her hands fall into his hair like nothing had ever happened between them and he was fine and they had never broken up. It was easy to imagine, now that they had fallen into old roles again, him laying in her bed and still so grateful just for her presence even though they'd spent years apart and he was sure he should have forgotten, sure he should have given up on the idea of her by now. "I- It just hurts too much," he muttered in explanation and opened his eyes again, brown eyes meeting hers, absorbed in them, taking in nothing else in the room and not wanting to. "They got worse. After you left," he admitted quietly, and blinked, pressing his eyelashes together for a second too long before he opened his eyes again.

"And then better," Cass said quickly, realising how that sounded. "And then worse again right after my mum died. I think it's a stress trigger thing, so. Not that serious at least."

[isabelle-carlisle]

Words that could’ve been filled with poison were spoken gently, quietly, more fact than accusation. She had left. Suddenly and probably painfully. In her mind she’d always been able to justify her actions somewhat - who in their right mind proposed to their girlfriend after a just a year together, particularly at the unbelievably young age of nineteen? Isa didn’t think she was in the wrong for the decision she’d made - he’d been being ridiculous. But now, being back here, seeing how his eyes lit up every time he saw her? Perhaps he had been being sincere. Perhaps he really had known that he wanted to spend his life with her. She didn’t like being the bad guy, didn’t like the thought that she had hurt him, because she couldn’t change it. The damage was done. All she could do was be here for him now.

“Okay. Okay, you don’t have to,” she murmured back, fingers pressed gently against his scalp as they worked over his head, lips pressing the occasional kiss to his forehead, his cheek, whatever part of his face was closest. “I know it does,” she nodded, unprepared for his next words. Worse. Because of her. Because of the way she had ruined him. “I-“ she began, letting out a soft little sigh. And then she did the only thing she really knew how to do. She kissed him. Softly. Slowly. Tongue just barely swiping over his bottom lip. “M’sorry,” she mumbled against him, arms wrapping even more tightly around him as she pulled him to her chest.

Ah. His mum had died. Suddenly, unexpectedly. Losing her best friend at sixteen had been the most intense grief Isa had ever experienced, and it had almost ruined her. But to lose a parent? To lose your mother? She had no words, feeling entirely out of her depth as she failed to speak, to offer a single word of reassurance. Instead she just lay there, fingertips trailing back and forth over him, lips pressing soft kisses to the top of his head.

[milvimurray]

Milvi wasn’t somebody who got angry at people for spilling drinks on her, she had done it a couple of times herself, she just wanted to make sure that the stranger in front of her was okay. “Thank you so much.” She replied with a warm smile appearing on her lips as she watched her walking away. She stayed where she was, just in case she had lost the other woman. It didn’t seem that long until she noticed her coming back, taking the tissues from her. “Oh thank you so much, I wouldn’t think that, at least you were forward about it.” She replied as she began to clean the drink from her clothes. “It’s really  nice to meet you Isabelle, I’m Milvi.” She smiled brightly at her before feeling her cheeks starting to go red. “Really? I mean I would say that you are really pretty too, super pretty. I hope you don’t mind to saying.” 

“Of couuuuuuurse! Least I could do,” Izzy giggled, almost tripping backwards as she tried to stand still. This beautiful woman was not someone she wanted to make a fool in front of - she could feel her chest and cheeks reddening, too drunk to realise that she was spending much too much time staring at the woman’s perfectly ruby lips instead of meeting her eyes as she ought to be doing when meeting someone new. 

“Well that’s good,” she grinned, reaching out to clumsily pat Milvi’s arm. “I’ve never heard a name like Milvi! Milvi Milvi Milviiiiiiiii!” she started to sing, doing a stupid little dance to match. “Well that’s always nice to hear - c’mon Milviii, my darling, come and dance with me,” she beamed, grabbing the redhead by the hand and trying to tug her gently towards the dance floor. 

[mayarparker-deactivated20241110]

Maya couldn't help but smile. As prickly as she was, she did want to help. "I'm practically a guardian angel," she replied. Although Izzy told her not to, she would worry about it. She didn't exactly think that Izzy would judge her for her clothes or her apartments. Maybe she would. But Maya had carefully built a persona for herself. She was a badass. She was confident. She was Maya Fucking Parker. But that had always been a persona. Seeing her threadbare clothes and her apartment that was a mattress on the floor could too easily shatter that image. Maya never wanted pity. She never wanted people to see more than she let them.

But she also wanted to help. "Well, I have that," she replied.

What had she been up to? Running mostly, not sleeping, surviving but barely. "Travelling," Maya said. It was true, technically. It wasn't the whole story, but it rarely was. After her conversation with Ryden, she was hesitant to ask what people had thought about how she'd left. Most people didn't go travelling without telling anyone in the middle of the night and leaving behind most of your belongings. "How about you?" she asked.

[isabelle-carlisle]

“My fairy godmother,” Isabelle joked back, the old patterns of their friendship starting to re-emerge. The banter between them had always been almost constant when they’d been closer friends, and Izzy could only hope that it would return once more. Things were comfortable with Maya. Izzy never felt she needed to be anyone but herself around the woman - at university she had always tried to be top of her game, desperate to be taken seriously and not written off immediately as a blonde bimbo who had gotten into her masters by riding daddy’s coat-tails. And then socially, there was this need to appear put together, perfect, sleek, polished. But with Maya? Maya was different. She didn’t care about status, about wealth. She cared about honesty, and she saw right through you if you weren’t.

“Well that’s good,” Izzy hummed, casting another glance up at the woman, taking in the slightly thread-bare appearance of the clothes adorning her slim frame. “Travelling? Where’ve you been then, tell me all?” Izzy asked, trotting along beside her friend. “Me? Aah. Graduated. Got my masters and all that. And now I’m- back here,” she nodded, unsure whether or not reveal that she was currently jobless.

[cass-evans]

“You wouldn’t need to worry about me. You know I’d be fine,” he pointed out with an air of stubbornness. “I would’ve just slept it off anyway,” he added with typical Cass confidence, as if he had slept properly since their break up. Years had passed, and still he lay awake at night, to the point where he almost couldn’t blame her anymore - maybe he was simply now too fucked up to deserve the eight hours. Often, nowadays, he could hear her come in late and he wanted to message, ask where she’d been, who she’d been with. He didn’t. He just lay there and hoped she was alone. Selfish, but that was the truth.

“Codeine is okay,” he acknowledged, not wanting to quite get into his familiarity with what all manner of substances might do to him, he’d never been particularly open with her regarding drug usage and he didn’t intend to start. Still, he held out his hand after she’d handed him the pills, as if demanding extra. “I usually double the max dosage,” he muttered, “so two more. And then stick a bowl or something by the bed in case I throw them up. I guess,” he noted gently, “I’m the one giving instructions now. Sorry.” The apology was new, broke up the cycle of it seeming like the old days. He was desperate to change it, and yet at the same time desperate to keep it the same, seeking the comfort she had once brought him despite knowing it could never be the same. He’d assured Elora he was over Isabelle, assured himself even. Now, exposed, he knew he had been lying.

“They’re shut,” he said obediently, quietly. He wouldn’t want to see Isabelle naked anyway, he knew that would just throw him in even worse, flip his stomach, give him the fucking butterflies he’d tried so hard to kill off. His eyes were still shut when she leaned in to kiss his forehead and it took him by surprise, causing him to jolt back just a millimetre or two before he steadied, accepting it, accepting the affection he craved despite knowing he’d regret it. It seemed of all his addictive tendencies, Isabelle was by far his worst vice, the one with the tightest grip on him. “Hey, you,” he repeated her words with just the ghost of a smile lingering on his lips. “Remind you of old days?”

[isabelle-carlisle]

“Whether you want me worrying about you or not, I will be. S’just the way it works Cass. It’s like… I don’t know. Seeing you again, it’s brought it all back,” she said quietly, finding it hard to meet his eyes. When they had first gotten together Isa had been guarded, unable to let herself fully believe that Cass truly wanted to be with her for anything more than her body, for the way she looked, for feeling like he possessed something beautiful, something that others coveted but could not have. But Isa knew deep down that this wasn’t the case, and eventually she had let him in properly. And even though it had been four years, four years without him, four years sleeping with other people - it didn’t matter. She was dangerously, terrifyingly still drawn to him. As if the love had never quite worn off.

Her eyes widened slightly as he requested extra of the pain meds but she wasn’t about to turn him down - she remembered how cripplingly bad they got, how he couldn’t even think, couldn’t see, the pain too blindingly horrific. It had been those moments when she’d felt the most in love, every cell in her body wishing it could take even the smallest bit of his pain from him. Perhaps that was why she had said no to his proposal - she simply couldn’t stand the thought of being so tied to someone who could disappear, could leave her whenever they wanted to. Independence was always Isa’s number one priority, and nothing had changed. And yet here she was, tucking her ex-boyfriend into her own bed, placing a plastic bowl by him in case he puked.

If she’d felt alarmingly close to him before, being in bed with him like this just intensified these feelings even more. This was how they had spent so many hundreds of hours together, tangled up in sheets, kissing, cuddling, fucking, talking. Creating a safe little world for just the two of them. Falling deeply in love.

“It does, yeah,” she smiled back at him, leaning in to press another gentle kiss to the corner of his mouth as her fingers slipped into his curls, massaging against his scalp. “Feel okay? You can sleep. I’m gonna just stay here with you, okay?” she reassured him quietly.

[sydneysweeneysource]

SYDNEY SWEENEY. MAIYO Campaign.

[cass-evans]

“I don’t need to be watched, I’m fine-“ He was already making the excuses before she was done speaking, already trying to find a reason for him to run, never let her see him this way again. Never let her in enough for her to know anything about him again, know any signs of him being weak. Normally, he was good at putting on a front, and he wished he could return to that version of Cass right now, smirk and act smug and confident and alright.

And then she said for me, and of course he relented, melted into an Izzy-adoring puddle on the ground simply at the two words. Because no matter how long it had been, no matter how much he told himself he was long since over Isabelle and wouldn’t think about her any longer, still Cass couldn’t lie when she looked at him that way and asked him to do something for her. He’d do anything for her, she knew that. He was hers to play around with from the moment he’d met her and he feared it, feared the way she could manipulate him any way she wanted.

And of course, he had to come inside after that. He couldn’t argue the point any longer, just allowed her to steady him and obediently followed her to the bedroom, sitting down and looking at her with innocent eyes for once as she took his boots off, dark curls falling into his eyes, over his eyelashes. His hair was getting too long, too messy, he’d asked her to cut it for a reason and he wondered if she’d do it later, if he felt better, or at least was more inclined to an upright position and less inclined toward throwing up. He brought his hands up to cover his face, though, unwilling to let her see him grimace in pain. “Do you have any painkillers?” His voice was muffled behind his hands, face screwed up as if it was taking all his effort to not vocalise the pain and instead speak calmly.

[isabelle-carlisle]

“I know you don’t need to be Cass but it’d be better for everyone if you were. If I just let you go home I’ll spend the whole night worrying about you, and you won’t have any comfort or support, so just- shh. Okay?” she smiled softly, relieved that her soft little plea had finally worked its magic. It was just like it always had been, them falling back into the same old patterns - if she asked, he would oblige. He could never deny her, it was like there was something inside of him that just would not allow it.

Once she’d managed to get his boots off, she looked up with wide eyes, nodding at his request. “I do- I have some codeine from when I broke my collarbone I think. That should help. Just- get comfy? Under the duvet. I’ll be right back,” she hummed, reaching out almost tentatively to tuck back a stray strand of his hair, looking down at him fondly. She was quick to retrieve the painkillers and a glass of cold water, returning to find Cass in the exact same position. “You’re not very good at following instructions today,” she teased gently, handing him the water and the pills and watching as he sipped. “Good. Here, c’mon,” she coaxed, pulling back the duvet a little awkwardly from beneath him and helping him into her bed. He looked so at home there, like he always had when they had been together - hell, she even had the same duvet cover as she did back then. It was like Groundhog Day, as if the last four years hadn’t even happened and they were still together, still in love.

But they weren’t. Things were very, very different now. “Close your eyes,” she instructed softly, turning her back from him as she quickly slipped her t-shirt and jeans off, pulling on one of his old t-shirts - the one she tended to sleep in if in anything at all - and then scooted into bed next to him. “Hey you,” she murmured quietly, leaning in to press a gentle kiss to his forehead.

[cass-evans]

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” his tone was desperate, as if he felt the need to over apologise out of sheer horror at the situation. Because Cass didn’t like being vulnerable, and he particularly didn’t like it around Isabelle, not now, not when they were in this strange position where they simultaneously seemed to be drawn to each other and fear each other, fear the way they now knew too much about each other and had no reason to keep it secret. He knew he’d never share, and once upon a time he’d known the same of her, but he didn’t know that any more. Not truly.

And truth be told, even in their relationship he’d insisted on keeping his composure. This would never be a side of Cass he was okay with sharing with her. He’d covered and made excuses and found every way known to man to make sure Isabelle only saw the side of him he wanted her to, the strong side, the side that didn’t give a fuck about anything and never showed any signs of being closer to a human than a wolf. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d been in this position, in her debt again, forced to allow her to take care of him, a reversal of the dynamic he preferred. He wasn’t sure he wanted to.

“No, I-“ he let her hand stay on him as he straightened, but shook his head weakly, protesting, “I shouldn’t- I’ll just, um, go home,” Cass mumbled somewhat awkwardly, eyes wide and out of focus, not looking at her, not looking anywhere in particular - what was there to look at? Either his ex girlfriend, who somehow retained the ability to melt him no matter how much pain he was in, or a puddle of vomit reminding him how pathetic he truly was. Neither were appealing. “I can come back later,” he promised faintly, “to clean your carpet…..” It would probably smell by then, he thought. But just glancing down at it was enough, in this current moment, for his body to send a signal to start gagging again and if he had been religious he’d be praying for it to stop.

[isabelle-carlisle]

He couldn’t even seem to meet her gaze and it pained her to see him like this, so uncomfortable with her, so unable to let him in. But no matter how much he protested there was almost zero chance she would let him go home and be alone when he was in such a state. Something inside her just yearned to make him feel better, to cuddle him close and whisper soft words of reassurance to him. While Isabelle didn’t take any joy in seeing Cass so unwell (and never had), there was something about him being this vulnerable that she relished. He had no capacity to keep up his air of coolness, of not caring, of being a calm, chill, unbothered dude. When he was like this he needed her, his body betraying his mind.

“Cass. Look at me,” she murmured, her voice taking one a tone of gentle urgency as her fingertips moved to tilt his chin down to her, forcing him to meet her eyes. “I’m not letting you be alone when you’re like this. Come on. Please? Just come inside. For me,” she pleaded quietly, her hand slipping down to find his lower back, coaxing him inside with a gentle push. “Just mind the- there we go,” she hummed, guiding him in past the small pool of vomit and towards her bedroom. She supposed the sofa was more appropriate - the bedroom felt so intimate - and yet the thought of making him sleep on her sofa didn’t sit right with her. Besides, she wanted him close, wanted him curled up against her. Safe. Warm.

“C’mon, this way,” she murmured, voice low as she continued to lead him towards her room, helping him to sit down on the soft duvet that covered her bed. She then flitted quickly around the room, switching off the overhead light and shutting the curtains so that the room was just dimly lit by the soft glow of her salt lamp - too much light would only make the migraine worse. “Right. Shoes off…? Let me-“ she offered, not waiting for a response before she dropped to her knees, fingers working quickly to unlace his work boots.

[mayarparker-deactivated20241110]

Maya did not want to go back to her place. In the five years she had lived in Boston no one had so much as seen the building she lived in. Part of her wanted to repeat that now in Opulence. It felt safer. She couldn't say whether it was safer for her or for the people who knew her though.

But this was a small town. Plus, it seemed like Isabelle was having a rough time with this new state of affairs. Maya remembered that when they had known each other Isabelle had been a fae. Becoming a werewolf had to have happened in the last year. It couldn't be an easy transformation. Even knowing about the supernatural, she couldn't imagine it was easy. Maya sighed as her heart won out over her self-preservation. "Yeah, okay," she said, "But my clothes aren't exactly what you're used to." What Maya meant was that her clothes were shit. They had always been thrifted or cheap, but now they were threadbare from her year on the run. She started walking back out of the woods, trusting that Isabelle would come with her.

[isabelle-carlisle]

Even as Isabelle had asked the question she wondered whether Maya would oblige. In all the time they had known each other, Maya had never invited Isabelle back to her abode. The pair had always gotten ready at Izzy’s, stumbled back drunk after a rowdy night and collapsed in her king-sized bed. She’d had a big apartment thanks to her parents, and so it just made sense that she be the one to host. But it had made her curious about where Maya lived, and she supposed now was no different.

Letting out a soft sigh of relief Isabelle nodded her wolf-head, wide eyes looking up at her old friend. “Thank you. Really, I have no idea what my plan would’ve been if I hadn’t run into you,” she murmured. “Oh, don’t worry about that. Just something so I don’t have to walk home naked,” she half-joked, although it really was the truth. As Maya turned, Isabelle began to follow her, trotting along on her four paws, tail now up and wagging. “So… what’ve you been up to? It’s been awhile huh.”

[cass-evans]

for: @isabelle-carlisle

location: outside her door

He’d made it out of Bolt’s in five seconds flat as soon as he realised what was about to happen, and after he nearly dropped a wrench on his own foot, eliciting a series of increasingly florid swear words from Cass to the point where even the other mechanics had suggested he calm down. Calm was not really his mood, though, not when he was acutely aware that he’d hit his limit for flaking on work and he was absolutely going to have a delightful conversation with Ryden at some point where Cass grovelled, gave vague answers that didn’t mean anything, and begged to not be fired. Again. A situation which would probably be avoided if Cass only let himself admit that he was stressed, struggling, in pain, whatever vulnerability you cared to list but which he absolutely would not discuss with anyone. In this case all three, and he most definitely did not wish to have that chat in a loud workshop with Roman right round the corner to make fun of him. So instead, he chose the run away now and deal with it later option.

Normally, he’d never choose to use the lift, walking the full five flights of stairs since the day he’d been trapped with Isabelle, half to avoid being trapped again and half because he knew she took the elevator and he aggressively wanted to avoid seeing her. He’d barely even messaged back since that day, cancelled dinner plans, answered her questions about the town with short, stilted answers. He didn’t like being this way, not when they’d been so familiar once upon a time, but when he thought of her and thought of being trapped in such a small space with her immediately his mind went to her lips just ghosting over his and he was unable to focus on anything else. Just imagining the way she had pressed her forehead to his had had him nearly running a red light on his drive to work. No, it was clear he had a soft spot for her, and it was for the best if he didn’t see her until he managed to harden it up, for his own sanity.

The elevator didn’t feel like it was going fast enough, though, and Cass quietly cursed the contraption even as the doors finally opened what felt like a year later. He didn’t want to be in the bright corridor, needed to be home and away from everyone, able to hide until he was back to his loud and hot tempered self, a front that gave him more safety than anything else in life and yet also resigned him to hiding all parts of him which didn’t fit it. When he finally reached the two doors, side by side, his and Isabelle’s, he felt his vision start to blur and meld the two numbers, 505, 504, he was short sighted enough to begin with and he cursed that even more and the growing pain in his head for not just waiting, not allowing him to be away before it hit. His hand went to shove his key into the lock and yank on the handle, and it jammed, not opening. Cass swore quietly - this was a common occurrence with his bullshit cheap door in his cheap ass apartment - and pulled on the handle more violently, urgently as he felt acidic bile coat the inside of his throat and threaten to make an appearance imminently.

The door opened finally, just a second later than he’d needed, and before he could take even a step inside the nausea won out over his desire to preserve his hallway’s carpet and he was retching, a pathetic dribble of bile - he’d only had coffee and a vape that day and he silently thanked himself for that small mercy - spilling out onto the carpet, a rug by the door, a foot…. A foot? And a rug? He was confused, for a second, before his stomach dropped and he looked up. He hadn’t gotten the door open, after all. It had been opened, opened by a well manicured hand belonging to a familiar arm belonging to a certain blonde upon who’s perfectly painted toenails, he realised in horror, he had managed to throw up on. Fuck. “Oh God,” Cass said, slightly dazed, and took a staggering step back, with absolutely nothing he could think of to rectify the situation. “I’m. So sorry.”

[isabelle-carlisle]

It had been nothing short of unbelievably awkward since that night in the elevator. It had been a terrible way for Isabelle to be reunited with Cass - she knew him well enough to know how much he would’ve resented her seeing him like that, so vulnerable and unable to contain his need for her comfort. It had taken the better part of a year of their relationship before he had even begun to open up to her, and even then it was like pulling teeth getting him to tell her anything. She only knew his last name by looking at his drivers licence, let along his deepest darkest secrets. It had been a touchy point in their relationship, and one of the reasons Isabelle had found it so hard to believe that Cass truly loved her, truly wanted to be with her. In her mind, if that was the case then wouldn’t he want to open himself up to her? Let her in, allow her to see all the parts of him he hid from most?

But perhaps not. Perhaps he had been young, and she had been foolish. Perhaps they were just not meant to be together, too toxic, too manipulative with each other for it to ever work. The proposal had come completely out of left-field, just hours after yet another explosive argument. And yet when Cass had asked the question, sweet, nineteen year old Cass, his voice had been clear, so certain that he wanted this, wanted her. Forever. It had scared Isabelle in a way that nothing had ever scared her before. For the first time in her life she had felt completely overwhelmed by her emotions, by the prospect of a lifetime of love with someone who seemed so fiercely committed to her. So she had fled. It was all she could have done. She still did not believe she was to blame.

The hardest part about having Cass so close was that Isabelle wanted nothing more than to burst into his apartment, break down into tears, and collapse into his arms. Let him soothe her the way only he seemed to know how, listen to her as she told him all about that horrible night when she had been turned by Alexandria. Becoming wolf had left her vulnerable and confused, and she needed someone. Needed Cass. But she couldn’t. Couldn’t do that to herself, or to him. So she resigned herself to spending night after night alone in her apartment, flicking aimlessly through various TV shows and trying her best to get just a little sleep.

Which was exactly what she had been doing when she heard something, or someone, scuffling around at her door. Her heart leapt up into her throat - was it Alexandria? Had she figured out where Isabelle had lived and wanted to finish her off? Perhaps she had not just intended to turn her, perhaps she had wanted her dead. Mind racing, Isabelle scrambled up off the sofa, padding towards the door and peeking through the little peep hole. Oh. It was Cass. And he looked fucking terrible. A trembling hand moved to open the door for him and before she could even speak a word, he’d puked, the liquid almost hot as it hit her toes. “Oh- Cass,” she paused, face grimacing slightly as she instinctively reached out a hand to steady him. “Hey, no- it’s okay. Migraine? Here, come in. Don’t worry about that, the carpet is already gross,” she muttered, shaking her head as her hand reached for his, tugging him inside gently as she toed off her now-soiled slippers.

[cass-evans]

Her forehead on his yanked him from his anxious state into a whole different state of being. A state of being he'd been in just a few years ago and yet it felt like it had happened in a different age, to a different Cass, someone he could no longer connect with or relate to. His younger self who he didn't even think he could recognise anymore. A time when he'd loved Isabelle so intensely, so devotedly, that just the touch of her forehead on his would have been enough for him to do anything she said, burn a city to the ground, beg her to marry him, beg her to stay. He'd thought, four years down the line, he'd be over that. It seemed she'd retained the capability to make his heart skip a beat.

When the lights flickered on, they were still caught in that moment, foreheads touching, eyes locked on each other, lips together. Coming back to reality forced Cass to jolt away, with such violence that his head hit the wall of the elevator and the bang echoed audibly, as he straightened up as swiftly as possible, doing his best impression of a man who hadn't been on the brink just a few short minutes before. "Fuck," he muttered. "Really took their time there." A pause, while he steadied his breathing and tried to look anywhere but at Isabelle. "It'll probably start moving again in a second," he added, tone of voice soft with just a slight edge of the breathless fear that had occupied it entirely previously.

His hands were shaking. He shoved them in his pockets and silently hoped she wouldn't notice.

[isabelle-carlisle]

It felt like time stood still for those few moments, and Isabelle couldn’t have told you if it had been seconds or hours that they were locked in that position, eyes fixed to the other’s, lips dangerously close. She hated to admit it but it had made her heart race, her eyes tear up, every cell in her body seeming to draw her closer and closer to him. She wanted more than anything to just kiss him, to give in to this magnetic pull she felt towards his lips, but what if he pulled back? What if he had moved on? What if he rejected her?

Just as she was about to pluck up the courage to kiss him, the lights flickered on and Cass’ head jolted back, Izzy almost falling back as they broke apart. Her cheeks and chest were flushed a deep pink and she could barely look at him as she cleared her throat a little awkward, pulling herself to her feet as she brushed herself off. He had seemed too eager to pull back from her - there was no way he could still want her the way he did back when they were together. And yet- she had managed to pull him away from the breakdown he had been so rapidly approaching with something as simple as her forehead on his. What did it mean? Isabelle did not know, and suddenly she wanted desperately to be alone, safe in the confines of her apartment to properly process what had just happened.

The lift creaked back into action, rising painfully slowly to their floor, the doors shuddering open. Izzy darted forward, stepping out of the lift, and then she turned back to him, unable to help herself. “Call me. If you… if you’re still- If you can’t sleep,” she murmured, leaning up to press the most brief of pecks to his cheek before speeding down the hall and into her apartment.

[cass-evans]

The elevator had torn apart all semblance of Cass being whole and okay, he realised. Before the sudden lurch he’d thought of rude statements he could say to Isabelle, nasty things he could say to make it sound like he was over her or at least angry enough with her that he’d not want to interact. Anything to push her away, to make her think she didn’t hold quite so much power over him, although he was aware trying to do so was an exercise in losing. She’d always been able to read him, better than anyone else, always known when he was lying or when he was pretending to be alright. But now, post lurch, post lights flickering out, he felt even his ability to pretend he was mad at her be taken away from him and it all replaced by the one thing he was capable of feeling in the moment. Fear. Just fear. Whether he had wanted to ever be vulnerable around Isabelle again or not, he clearly no longer had a choice.

He barely felt her hand in his hair at first, so focussed was he on not saying anything because he knew his voice would shake and he knew she’d be able to tell he was anxious and somehow even silently freaking out was better than admitting to her that he was struggling, that he was anxious, that this was one of his worst possible scenarios to be in and of all the people in the world with him it was her. But his hyperventilating did the talking for him, the audible shake of his breath coming in and out too quick, to the point where she started to try to help him breathe and all Cass could do was shake his head violently, only letting his breathing speed up more as he panicked more, entire body tense, “no, it’s closing in,” he hissed, hands coming up to cover his face, refusing to see the walls anymore lest they prove him right, “they’re closing in and I-“

[isabelle-carlisle]

He was really panicking, she could tell by the tone of his voice. He was frustrated, scared, but not with her. He probably wasn't even capable of feeling anything but fear in this moment, and it all came rushing back to her. The times she'd spent comforting him, stroking a gentle hand through his hair as he nuzzled into her chest, seemingly only able to sleep when he was curled against her. This was when she loved him most - when he really, truly needed her. Her and no-one else. It made her feel important, made her feel like she really was more to him than a nice pair of tits and smackable ass. She had never really believed that he loved her for her, but it was in those moments that she got closest to believing.

"I know," she murmured, her voice so soft as her hand slid down his arm to find his own, fingers lacing with his. She couldn't do much except for just be there with him, shuffling slightly so she was directly in front of him, eyes seeking his features as best she could in the dim glow of elevator buttons. They were the sole source of light, and they cast a ghostly glow over his face, making him look even more haggard and anxious than he probably was. Her heart felt like it was being twisted, every cell in her body wanting to comfort him, and without another thought she lurched forward, forehead pressing firmly to his own. "I'm right here Cass. Right here," she breathed, words ghosting over his lips as her fingers squeezed his own.

[mayarparker-deactivated20241110]

This had to a cosmic joke. She had travelled for an entire year and met no one she knew from her life before. Now at least two people lived in the same town as her. Although, clearly the days between had changed all of them. Gazing down at Isabelle in this new and unfamiliar form, Maya couldn't help but think about how much the time between seemed to have changed them. She only nodded at Isabelle's confirmation.

As for Isabelle's question, that was a bit more difficult to answer. As a rule she didn't tell people that she was a witch. The last year had only proven to her that was the correct way of going about it. On the other hand, Maya now knew something seemingly personal about Isabelle and no one could reach Opulence without knowing about the supernatural. "Ummm..." she started, "Well, it's kind of a long story." She glanced around the woods. They still seemed to be alone. Aside from Ryden, she hadn't given anyone information about how or why she had come to Opulence. She needed a minute to think about what to say. It also appeared from the tail between the legs and flattened ears that Isabelle wasn't exactly comfortable either. "Do you want to like reconvene somewhere you're a bit more...bipedal?" she asked.

[isabelle-carlisle]

Isabelle had been certain that she would be safe from anyone she knew here in the woods. As far as she was aware, it was mainly just the wolves who ventured into these parts, and she had yet to properly meet any of them. In fact, she'd made a conserted effort not to. She wanted to keep this secret as long as she possibly could - if others didn't know then in a round about way she felt she could pretend this wasn't her reality yet. She could live in a world where people still thought she was a fae, where she was beholden to this awful beast who took over her body whenever it chose to. But that world was slipping away from her like water through fingers, and it scared her.

"...Right," the wolf answered, unable to stop a small smirk from tugging at her jowls and the woman’s lack of information. Maya had always been a little prickly when it came to sharing any details about her past, not one to open up and lay everything bare. Back then, Isabelle had had nothing to hide, so she hadn't understood this as an act of self-preservation. But now? Now, she got it. Now, she would not push for details Maya didn't want to give. "Yeah, that would be a good idea... Um. I don't really know what my plan is. I... I live next door to my ex? I know, it's... ridiculous. Anyway, he doesn't know I'm a wolf and I want to keep it that way. But... I don't have any clothes. So I can't really go back there naked..." she chuckled weakly. "I don't suppose you'd let me come back to yours for a bit...? Maybe borrow some clothes?"