To be updated as more fandoms and work will be added:
Hellsing Ultimate {Alutegra}
~ An Offering of Blood (full) {One shot. A stressed Integra hurts herself and she decides not to let the blood go to waste. Alutegra +shippy. Rated M +warning: angsty, blood drinking, explicit self harm depiction, and a little dirty.} ~ao3 link
~ Proposition (multichapter) {Integra plans to proceed with marriage arrangements to continue her bloodline, but wants to gain some, uh, experience. Basically plot is weak excuse for smuttiness. Rated E so 18+only please, ty.} ~ao3 link
Proposition {Chapter 1} ~ao3 link
Proposition {Chapter 2} ~ao3 link
~ Exquisite Torture (full) {Integra needs information from a certain magician - She decides to enlist Alucard's help to get the information out of him. Mild flirty Alutegra. Not explicit, just the usual dark themes. More of a character study.} ~ao3 link
Goncharov
{Andrey and Katya}
~ What's Your Poison? (full) {In Which: Katya meets Andrey} ~ao3 link
Baldur's Gate 3
{Astarion / Y/N (f) Reader}
~ Secret Appetites (full) {An "I crave you" prompt with Astarion x Y/N (f) Reader. AUish. You are a noble in court, and best friends with Astarion, but you do not know he is a vampire. You're about to find out. (Suggestive, but not explicit. And yes, there is biting involved.) One shot. Enjoy!} ~ao3 link
Darkmoor/Dark Universe {Victoria / Dracula}
~ In the Throes of the Beast (full) {One shot. No spoiler summary (if you wanna go in blind): Doctor Victoria Frankenstein and Count Dracula have a chat after he bites her. Anyway, they are both bananas. Spoiler(ish) summary: My imagining of how Victoria captured Dracula. /END SPOILER/ (Heavily inspired by a certain Dracula retelling, iykyk) 1200+ words. No real warnings - language and mentions of violence is all. Non-ship unless you squint - you might catch a vibe} ~ao3 link
Strong Girl Nam-Soon
{Nam-Soon / Shi-Oh}
~ Smoke Screen (full) {A one-shot. Our strong girl Nam-Soon must find creative ways to keep her employer Shi-Oh (Si-O…?) busy while her cop friend (they are friends right now in this story at least) Hee-Sik snoops around. Distractions get out of hand and there's a kiss.} ~ao3 link
Squid Game
{Recruiter/Salesman / (f) OC}
~ Touch of Evil (in progress/multichapter) ~ {Our OC Anya gets some news that her estranged brother is missing, and she is determined to find him (this will go differently than what we see in the series ofc - and she will get heavily involved with the organization itself). Her only real lead is the "salesman" / "recruiter."} {Recruiter x (f) OC and a little OC x someone else. This is dramatic and angsty dark romance (?), enemies to ?? and rated E because there will be smut. #au-ish.} ~ao3 link
TBOSAS/Hunger Games {Coriolanus Snow x f Reader}
~ In the Still of the Night, Coriolanus Snow x female reader/Y/N (full) ~ {Coriolanus Snow being creepy and touchy as you sleep at your desk. Young Pres Snow or Head Gamemaker; can be read as either.} ~ao3 link
~ Undisclosed Desires & Power Plays (multichapter/incomplete) {Post-TBOSAS. Takes place when Snow is Head Gamemaker and he has to work with someone who doesn't exactly like him. Enemies-to-enemies with weird shit going on. Super dark themes.} {Chapter 1} {Chapter 2} {Chapter 3} {Chapter 4} {Chapter 5}
[context - I always kinda pictured Anya from my story looking similar to Asami Yamazaki (+ *slight* character facets are inspired by her) and here she is under GY on the algorithm 😭😭🥲🥲😅😅]
Plot [drama / AUish]: Our OC Anya gets some news that her estranged brother is missing, and she is determined to find him (this will go differently than what we see in the series ofc). Her only real lead is the "salesman" / "recruiter."
Chapter Summary: Our favorite Recruiter is injured and gets some tending to. (Very surprisingly soft Anya and Recruiter/Lee.)
Anya was resting in the dining room of the estate after getting a midnight snack (in the form of some ice cream - miraculously, the fridge had the same flavors she liked). She was in a t-shirt and some pajama shorts, enjoying the peace and quiet of the still night. Sometimes she stayed up late just to retrieve such moments.
She found a newspaper and tore some of it after skimming through it. Origami helped her when she was bored or restless, and so she folded a paper dove.
She placed the small paper dove over the line of an old scar on her thigh, balancing it, when she heard the main door open and shut. The dove fell over then as she snapped her attention at the sound. She picked it up and placed it on the table, then peeked out through the hallway and looked to see who it was now at half past 1 in the morning.
The recruiter - "suit guy" - Lee, she thought, reminding herself of his albeit fake single syllable name - always looked well-put together. But today he was soaked from the rain, and maybe sweat, the side of his jaw sliced open and his bottom lip cut deep. His hair was not as neat as his usual. What at first she thought was a shadow, was a bruise on his cheek.
It was strange seeing him so hurt. He was usually beautifully crisp even after he had gone out to "take care" of someone. The blood was never his own. He was usually the one doing the beatings, dealing the wounds - not taking them.
Blood stained his face, lip, some of his shirt. Blood. It looked nice. And he was such a cheeky little shit, she thought, whoever did this to him must have enjoyed it.
He noticed her through the entryway of the dining room as he walked past and stopped in his tracks.
"You," he drawled out in a condescending tone, seemingly annoyed at her presence. "You're everywhere lately."
"And it looks like someone finally gave you an overdue beating. What happened?" she asked.
"That's none of your business," he snapped, averting his eyes from her.
Someone was in a mood, she thought.
A small drop of red trickled down his jawline. She imagined adding on to those cuts on his face - she envisioned another cut on his mouth, a gash on his cheek. She imagined pulling his wounds open, even.
What the fuck am I thinking, she said taking a breath - forcing herself to stop the progress of the ugly visions. She bit her lip in a sad attempt to distract herself from those thoughts. She should not be so affected.
She decided instead, for one reason or another, to help him. She was good at this, anyway. And she liked to prove it to herself. It would help, too, to try again to make some false "peace" or neutrality with him. It was almost something of a challenge to her. If she ever killed him, anyway, the best way would be with kindness and control.
"Well, come on," she said. "I'll stitch you up."
"No," he snapped, as if she had just suggested she set him on fire. "I'm fine."
"I'm good with stitches; your face is a disaster, and I'm the best medical care you'll get at this hour. Don't fight me on this, for Christ's sake. The medical here is closed and most of the guards are gone. What do you think? I'm going to try to attack you with a needle?" she scoffed, standing up now to go get some materials.
"Of course not," he almost rolled his eyes at her. "Don't be ridiculous. I don't need anything. I'm going to take a shower and rest."
"We're not having a discussion over this," she stopped him with her words before he reached the foot of the stairs. "Sit down."
She snapped her fingers and pointed to a chair in the dining room.
He seemed about ready to retaliate before he sighed heavily, seemingly defeated - which somewhat stunned Anya. Surprisingly, and perhaps because he had a rough night, he obeyed and took a seat as she directed him to. He leaned back, knees spread, his arms splayed out lazily on either side of the chair. He was overly relaxed - Obviously exhausted.
"Make it quick," he said. "I'm tired."
She retrieved a first aid kit from one of the cabinets and then went to the connected kitchen to get a bottle of whiskey and two glasses. She took a shot of alcohol and sat down beside him, angling her chair to face him.
"Here," she said, filling his glass and handing him a shot of whiskey on the table. "You're going to need it."
"I would rather the person who is going to sow me up not drink, you know," he lifted a brow.
"Don't tell me you're scared of needles," she chuckled, pouring some whiskey onto a towel. It would have to work to disinfect along with the alcohol wipes. A criminal retreat, and no peroxide or regular alcohol readily available outside of the medical area. What a joke, she thought. She made a mental note to tell Ra-im about the need for supplies.
"Relax, it was my only drink. Feel better now? I was downstairs for some ice cream, not the whiskey."
"And to tear up newspapers," he observed.
She ignored that (her dove was worth it).
She moved closer, drawing her seat towards his at a good enough distance to work. If he were one of the others, she might have not been so careless. She was not dressed at her most modest, and they were alone - but in spite of his obvious capacity for murder and his unsettling demeanor, she had been alone with him before and he had never showed much interest in her (aside from that of the homicidal nature). And given that she often doubted warm blood coursed through this man's veins, she felt fine enough to be alone with him in her current state and, well, start piercing his skin.
She scanned the left side of his face, deciding to start with the jaw area. She quickly cleaned the drops of blood under the wound without wasting any time.
"This might sting," she said, bringing the towel to his jaw and disinfecting the gash. He barely winced. She took the needle and the thread in her hands.
"Ready?"
He held up a finger to stop her, then took a shot of whiskey.
"Go."
She reached out and tilted his head further to the side, making the first tiny incision on his skin when her fingers were in position. The piercing of his flesh as she did so, tiny and precise as it may be, was utterly fascinating to her - His skin was soft and wet with his sweat, and pliable, peppered with bits of red that she was carefully adding on to. She chewed on her lip and frowned as she continued to try to focus.
As she worked to sow him up, he remained very still, his only tell of any sort of distress being that he was breathing somewhat unevenly - his chest rising and falling in barely controlled exhaustion.
"That's one done. The next one's going to hurt more," she said, tilting his face up and lightly touching just under the lip wound. A terrible place to need stitches, no doubt. "That's a sore spot."
"Like I said," he eyed the needle with something of a scowl. "Make it quick."
"I'll try," she said. "So tell me - A man like you, scared of needles? Really?"
She cleaned the wound with the alcohol. He hissed a little, before laughing lightly.
"No," he said, before wincing again at his split lip. "Ah - I would just rather be doing other things."
He leaned over to the table and poured himself a second shot of whiskey, trying to keep it on the unwounded side of his mouth as he drank it down.
Anya's gaze focused on his throat as he swallowed down the drink. More thoughts of wounds, blood, muscle invaded her mind.
"Go on, I'm ready."
She blinked, preparing to refocus, and with her fingers turned his face back to her as she positioned the needle and thread.
"Count of three, I'm going in," she said, after scooting closer. "One -"
She pierced him, and he hissed again, closing his eyes momentarily before he shot them open, a deep angry glare in his eyes.
"You said count of three," he snarled between gritted teeth.
"You said to make it quick. I spared you a moment of torture," she said, continuing to work. "You should be thanking me. Now stop talking until I'm done."
She continued, and he was a still, almost perfect patient. The blood painting his mouth, unfortunately, continued to fill her mind with brimming images of horrible things she could almost imagine doing to him - instead of fixing him up.
And again, she noticed his irregular breathing, and his hands gripping the wood of the chair like his life (or hers) depended on it. The pain had to be ugly, she knew that much. But he was deserving of it.
He took a strong hold of her wrist when she was halfway through and she stilled, giving him a few seconds to collect himself.
"You can stop there," he said.
"We already got started so let me finish. It's a deep wound. I know what I'm doing," she stressed, although she could guess as much he was in so much discomfort he did not much feel like continuing.
She sighed, figuring she would attempt to simply treat him like any other patient. They sometimes needed to be spoken to almost like a child - reassuringly, and with calm guidance.
"It's okay, we're almost done," she said calmly, almost sweetly, removing his hand gently from her wrist - and not letting go of her stitching materials. She then placed her hand on the right side of his face where his bruise was. It was odd to comfort him, but she would do her best.
"You're doing very good so far. So good. Stay still," she said cooly, feeling him relax. Her words, performative as they were, seemed to do the trick. Even his breathing slowed. Confident now, she moved to squeeze his shoulder reassuringly. She then went back to his wound, resuming her work quickly. "Good. Almost done..."
In order to try to continue to distract him from the pain (and distract herself from enjoying any disturbing imaginative visuals) she decided to talk to him.
"About the newspaper. I do origami sometimes when I'm bored. Doves are one of the only things I can make though. My brother taught me," she said, stilling at the memory for a moment. "You know, I think that's the only good memory I have of him..."
She then punctured again at the last open patch of skin on his lip, preparing for the final stitches. She tried to ignore the fact she was for no good reason helping this man who was very obviously involved in her brother's death, when she should be, well, tearing him apart instead. The irony did not escape her.
After a few moments, she was done. She cleared her throat.
All sealed up.
Her stitches were perfect work, barely noticeable amongst his wound - although his mouth still appeared sore. She dabbed some of the blood away as carefully as she could with a piece of gauze and applied some ointment on the wounds.
"We're done," she said, putting down the gauze and materials.
Her gaze moved back from his wounds on his face and lip to his bruised cheek to his eyes. She hadn't realized how close she had physically gotten to him. Intimidated, she moved back from him. She began to organize the materials on the table.
"I'm assuming given your line of work, you should know this already," she said as she organized. "But you should opt for a bath, not a shower, for tonight. It'll help your wounds heal quickly if you don't get them wet so soon."
"Mm. And which do you prefer?"
"What?" she asked, confused.
"Baths or showers?"
"Oh..." she thought this over, although slightly confused at the odd, casually asked question. "Definitely showers. Especially in this place. Great water pressure. The rain showers here are a luxury."
He nodded, seemingly entertained by the small talk.
After she finished cleaning everything and putting away the materials, she went back to the table to retrieve the two glasses and the bottle. "Lee" seemed to be situated, still resting on the chair where she had left him, and holding his glass.
"Have another drink with me," he smiled - a small one, given it would likely hurt him to move much. It wasn't one of his malicious smiles, nor was it particularly relaxed. Anya was having trouble reading him.
"Are you that bored?" she chided.
"No. Just have another drink with me," he sighed, and tapped on the arm of the chair she had just been sitting on. "It's been a long day..."
They had decided on two truths and one lie.
A silly game Anya hadn't played in years, though this time drinks were involved. Whoever missed the lie had to take a shot of the alcohol. If they didn't, the other had to drink it. As of now, they both had missed.
Anya wasn't sure how things had gotten so out of control that she was here having drinks with this criminal for no good reason, but there they were.
"It's your turn," he loosened his tie, his jacket now on the back of the seat. He was utterly relaxed, maybe because of the alcohol or due to exhaustion. She had never seen him like this - not that she was registering much of it, given her own current state and drowsiness.
"One, I'm a terrible swimmer. Two, you're the first lip stitch I've done. Three..." she thought this over. "I hate mornings."
He smirked.
"The first one is the lie. You're not a terrible swimmer," he said. "You're from Kaatsura, yes? By the water?"
He was right. Anya had to momentarily admire his memory. Although 'Mai' was from Tokyo, she was not actually from the city at all.
"And even if you were a terrible swimmer," he continued. "You would never admit something like that to me. So I have to assume I'm your first lip stitch. Oh, and it's obvious that you hate mornings. You would stay up late on work nights even before coming to work here. I did follow you a fair amount, remember?"
True. She should have been cleverer with that one. He had, after all, stalked her at some point. And he was a little too good at it.
"You're right," she admitted.
He nodded towards the glass expectantly. And she took the shot - in spite of the fact she was feeling it now.
"One, I know who owns this place. Two, I hate train stations. Three, I beat a man to death today."
"You didn't beat a man to death today," she guessed. It seemed highly likely he knew the owner, and that he would hate train stations (it was work, after all - there had to be something he hated about it).
And as much as his wounds seemed to very much suggest it, if he had beaten someone to death, there would be more blood, particularly not just on the top portion of his shirt. More importantly, the blood pattern didn't match a beating either. And his cuffs would have more blood if he had done something like a beating as well.
He tilted his head and frowned, somewhat surprised she made the assumption.
"Am I right? If you had, there would be more blood, and your blood stains would be different," she said expectantly, looking over his shirt and wrists, which were only barely stained. "So that's the lie."
"It is," he said, before he downed the shot of whiskey.
"I didn't beat anyone to death," he explained. "I shot him."
For some reason (the alcohol in her system didn't help either), his blunt admission made her laugh loudly. He smirked at her reaction.
"Of course you did. Alright, this will be my last turn," she cleared her throat.
She rested an elbow on the table and leaned into the palm of her hand, thinking over what was true or not true about her life. About her family, her childhood, her thoughts, her likes, her mind. It was all terribly muddled.
Her mind felt a little heavy, clouded with alcohol. And somehow, the weight of a million truths got to her - it felt like a chain on her neck, a horribly suffocating thing. She looked at the man beside her, who was patiently, calmly observing her. He looked blurry, soft at his edges - another effect of the alcohol.
"One, I think about horrible things all the time," she admitted. "Two, I'm somewhat relieved most of my family is dead. Three, I think I'm a terrible person."
She said it very calmly, but it stung her to say it out loud.
She did think about bad things too much. She was somewhat relieved she was free of her family - Even her brother. She hated to even admit it. It was detestable, a horrid idea, she thought - no matter what they put her through when she was young. It was family.
She was probably a very terrible person.
Where was the lie?
The guilt hit her hard in the chest, and she felt even guiltier for saying these things out loud to this man at random while slightly intoxicated. The very same man who had apparently led her brother to his death.
What was she saying - What was she thinking?
She had forgotten the game and given away nothing but the truth for whatever reason. Horrible emotion threatened to possess her, and she felt herself flush with it. She needed to stop herself right there.
Anya took a deep breath, grasped the arm of her chair and tried to reel in her feelings. She was about to take another drink when he leaned into her. A calm, stern expression was painted perfectly on his face as he spoke in a soft, collected voice.
"One, I killed my mother. Two, I killed my father," he half smiled. "Three, You're not so terrible."
For whatever sick reason, everything he had just said was comforting. Relief and something that felt like hope washed over her and raced through her veins. Anya looked over at him, excitement coursing through her like it did sometimes when he was around. She had always narrowed it down to hatred and fear, but currently, she had no solid reasoning. She almost wanted to reach out and touch him again, although it would be completely irrational to do so - or even think it.
The universe was full of the most vile contradictions, she thought.
"Well," she said, in a hurry to break whatever drunken spell was lulling her. She turned to look at the shot glass. Yes, it was the alcohol. "You should go take your shower - bath," she corrected, as she stood from the chair with some effort. "I'll go get some sleep."
"I thought we would finish the game."
"I thought you were tired."
He chuckled. He seemed to be examining her with interest as she cleaned up and put away everything - slowly, so as to not make any mistakes or stumble over. It seemed to her he was thinking something over - considering something she had no idea about. And this unnerved her to no end. She was thankful, however, that her standing up and walking around was helping her sobriety. She hadn't been too reckless.
"I have to know...Why were you in such a generous mood today? Offering to help me with all this," he gestured to his face.
"I'm just good at stitches," she shrugged as she walked back over to push in the chair she had been sitting on. "So I thought I'd try my hand at it again. Didn't feel like fighting."
"I see," he said, standing up to his full height.
He placed a hand on the table and leaned in by her neck. She stilled immediately, surprised at his sudden proximity.
"Thank you." He kissed her softly just at her jawline. "Good night."
Plot [drama / AUish]: Our OC Anya gets some news that her estranged brother is missing, and she is determined to find him (this will go differently than what we see in the series ofc). Her only real lead is the "salesman" / "recruiter."
Previous: [Masterlist here]
Chapter warnings: none
Chapter Summary: Anya updates Ema on info/ and a theory...
A few weeks later...
"So," said Ema, taking another small sip from her cup of coffee. "Have you found anything else?"
It had been a while since Anya had updated her cop acquaintance - friend - on anything. Work had been overwhelming until very recently. But now that she had a more open schedule, she made the time to update Ema on all her new findings, even if they were not as many as she had hoped.
They were at the same coffee shop they usually met up at - though Anya made a mental note to go to a different place next time. Routines were never a good thing to keep. They often got you caught.
"I was thinking about something I saw the other day before it was very abruptly pulled out of my hands," Anya said, a little annoyed at the recollection of that moment. "It was a list."
"A list? Do you have a copy of it?"
"No, but I wrote down what I managed to remember," she said, taking out a small piece of paper from her pocket and sliding it on the table to her.
"QVX. ZRN. KJP...I'm assuming initials," said Ema.
"I thought that too. It's possible. It could've been a client list or something like that. I do have a theory B though, if you want to hear it."
"I'm listening."
"What if they're businesses. And the initials aren't really initials, but the...what do you call it?" she said, snapping her fingers. "The stock identifiers for the businesses...?"
"Stock tickers?"
"Yes, that," she said excitedly. "Maybe they're identifiers of businesses involved with the organization. I looked them up. They're existent, huge corporations. Technology, media..."
"That's a lot to think about."
"I know but what if, the people running these businesses are the investors funding their Battle Royale bullshit, and the guns, the facilities, all of it. We know there this is very well funded. Maybe they're the money."
"Go back to the Battle Royale mention. So we're going to assume everyone's fighting to the death on an island...and there's corporate sponsors."
"We're assuming the possibility, yes," said Anya. "The island thing is plausible. And the corporate sponsors too. Everything points to it. So I'm assuming those letters are either a. initials, or b. stock ticker symbols."
"Hm. Okay..." said Ema.
To Anya, she appeared pensive. Too pensive.
"What is it? You don't think I'm onto something, do you," said Anya, with a sigh. "It's possible, Ema. It's a good theory. Don't shut it out."
"I'm not saying it isn't. The problem is, if...if your b. option is right," said Ema. "And these big companies are doing big criminal shit...What can any of us really do?"
Ema was right in a sense. If such huge companies were part of some elaborate, illegal organization - could anyone really stop it?
She knew it was pointless. Many times she felt defeated for it. Anya knew that even if somehow she was able to gather enough incriminating evidence and expose those involved, everything would be wiped away and erased. It wouldn't matter. I tnever did. Such people controlled every aspect of society, and they got away with anything and everything. But as usual, Anya figured trying to take some kind of action and do a little damage was better than nothing at all.
"I guess the point is to try," said Anya, crossing her arms. "To try and blow up the big criminal shit and bring down the criminals. Isn't that why you're a cop anyway?"
"Well-okay yes, I mean, you're right, but we only have so much power. That's all I'm saying."
"I get it," said Anya. "The world is unfair. But this was your idea, remember?"
Ema nodded, remembering that it unfortunately was.
"Let's just look into it..." said Anya. "If we look into the properties owned by the whoever's behind these companies, that could get us somewhere too. Maybe it'll lead to one of the facilities."
"True. We'll focus on getting more information and I'll look into the companies and owners, all of it."
"Perfect."
Anya took a sip from her now cold coffee and frowned.
"So, besides that..." Ema continued. "What about you?..."
"....What do you mean?"
"How's life outside of work and undercover spying?"
"I haven't really had life outside of work lately," she admitted. Did she ever? "I had been working 7 days a week for a while now. But the clinic let me go. They're laying off everyone. So I should have more time now."
"What do you plan to do with it?"
"Sleep," she said. Truthfully, it wasn't even the work overload. She hadn't slept well for a while now.
"Then I'll look for another job. But sleep is all I want right now."
"I don't blame you. But don't forget to do the other stuff too though, you know. You're in the 'young, beautiful, and free' 'part of your life right now and you have almost no commitments. Have fun and enjoy it."
"Right," said Anya, knowing very well she would probably not get around to any of those such things anytime soon. Her latest ideas of fun were eating cake with questionable pink guards and falling asleep to game shows on tv. Enjoyment was hard to get to when ghosts seemed to linger over you, and you weren't ever well-rested.
"Thanks, Ema. Let's meet up again soon. Different coffee shop next time?"
"Alright, deal," she said. "Hey, one more thing. No pressure - but if you're open to dating, I have a friend who's recently -"
"No," stressed Anya. "No. I'm not interested."
"Got it," said Ema with a small smile at her seeming overreaction. "Forget I asked."
"I'll take up knitting or something."
"Fair enough."
They parted ways, and Anya was happy to go do some groceries and head straight home after for some rest.
She thought about what Ema said at the end - "have fun and enjoy life." That should be simple enough. She should do something normal, get a new hobby, meet more people - And actually enjoy it. It just felt difficult, with stress and grief intermingling in her mind.
It was something to focus on later anyway. For now, it was just about survival.
Plot [drama / AUish]: Our OC Anya gets some news that her estranged brother is missing, and she is determined to find him (this will go differently than what we see in the series ofc). Her only real lead is the "salesman" / "recruiter."
Previous: [Masterlist here]
Chapter warnings: (very) brief r@pe mention, guns
Chapter Summary: Elevator shenanigans, Anya gaslights the recruiter (lmao)?? Honestly this is a little filler but was fun to write.
When Jae wasn't at the facility, the place was quieter. Sometimes this happened, as her coworkers had rotating schedules, and they often dealt with "work" outside the premises.
It worked to Anya's favor most of the time. She spent time helping the others with menial tasks, which was what she was doing now. Ra-im was away spending "quality time" with her own employer. And in the meantime, one of the other recruiters, Park, had called Anya to the office to fact check some files for him.
She liked working with Park. He was usually very polite, and albeit high strung and nervous, he easy to deal with. Currently her task was simple, mostly checking some numerical sequences (which made to no sense to her) and properly entering them on a spreadsheet.
The office was quiet, except for the light background classical music in the background. As she was making some progress with the work assigned, the other recruiter entered the place - Lee - and the mechanical creaky sound of the door shutting behind him followed.
"Good afternoon," he said, making his way to one of the cabinets.
"Hi...Please no getting loud," said Park nervously as soon as his coworker walked in. His radar for trouble went off - Nervous as usual, he seemed fearful that the culmination of Jae's assistant and his coworker Lee in the same room again might bring another argument. "Last time you two were here I barely got things done. I still haven't met my quota, and -"
"Calm down, Park," said Lee, making his way to one of the computers. He didn't so much as take a seat, instead leaning over the screen and typing something quickly to get it done. "I have no intention of getting in your way. If you're behind on your work, that's on you. You can't even blame her for that one."
"I'm doing my best," he muttered, mostly to himself.
"You'll do better next time. I'm sure," he said, false modesty in his tone. "Aside from that, watch what you leave around her. You saw her the other day..."
"It was a mistake," Anya corrected, before deciding to take the higher road. She cleared her throat. "Anyway - I'm sorry, Park."
"It's okay. Just - Please -" said Park. "Please. No interacting."
She didn't say another word and continued her work.
Anya rarely took the elevator. Most people, aside from the guards, never did. They only sometimes used it to go to one of the archive rooms, which was on the ground floor - underground and usually heavily monitored.
This time though, she decided on the elevator for a change. She had to drop off something on the ground floor before she left, and after that, she would be free for the day. No date with Jae either. As much as she should appreciate the free food and fine dining that came with her terms of employment, she did not want any of it - only the sweet touch of her bed.
When she saw the doors open, she instantly regretted said choice to take elevator over corner stairwell. The recruiter (her least favorite) was there, along with one of the pink guards who had a cart with what appeared to be several towels or blankets.
The guard motioned for her to come in.
"Ground floor?" they said.
She nodded and stepped inside to the back of the elevator.
To her mutual horror and amusement, there was actual elevator music playing. The stoic recruiter beside her on the right ride with his hands folded in front of him, the pink guard with the cart before them, and the ugly bright white lighting all mutually combined felt like another fever dream.
She took a deep breath, files in hand, and focused on the elevator doors before her.
"The universe seems to be testing me," said the recruiter as the doors shut closed.
"Same here," replied Anya, though she had no idea what he was alluding to.
The elevator sounded creakier than it had been the past few times she used it. She could swear she could hear the cranks pulling the wires. Apparently the guard seemed to notice it too.
"Sorry. I'll have to tell maintenance about that."
"That's probably a good idea," she agreed.
"It happens. Don't worry."
Finally, the elevator jolted and stopped on the second floor, and the guard gave them a quick goodbye and left.
Anya almost regretted not getting out then - but she decided she was not going to let fear get the better of her. Just as the doors closed again, the lights flickered and the recruiter spoke.
"What were you doing in my room?"
Anya froze.
"I wasn't in your room," she lied.
Okay," he laughed.
Anya saw in her peripheral vision that he nodded in false agreement beside her.
She had visited his room in the estate only once - Under the guise of helping one of the guards. Lee was the only one of the recruiters who rarely allowed anyone in there to clean or organize - he usually did everything himself. So she took the opportunity to maybe see if she could find anything useful.
She had observed no cameras, and there were rarely any inside the manor itself. Unless the guard had mentioned something to him about her being there - which she doubted was the case, as it would likely have gotten them in trouble - she wasn't sure how he could even know. She had left the place spotless.
This man apparently had some kind of sixth sense.
To her horror, the recruiter stepped forward and pressed something on the elevator panel, causing it to stop.
She was really starting to hate elevators now. And this time, she decided being in an enclosed space with an erratic (likely sociopathic) man might not be the safest idea.
"You did not just do that," she muttered, rubbing her temples. "What a nightmare..."
"You intruded, so I'm returning the favor. I'll ask again. What were you doing in my room? And don't lie," he said. He didn't bother to look at her, still facing forward. "Tell me the truth. Because I doubt you were there just to change my bedsheets."
"I have no idea what you're talking about," she said. She was not about to admit a thing to him. "And I thought I was paranoid. Now can we please get moving?"
"Here I thought you wanted to make your handler happy. If you wanted to be such a good worker for him, you wouldn't be lingering around in my bedroom. And you wouldn't be lying to me."
"Go question someone else," she said. "If something's missing, it wasn't me who took it."
At least that part was true.
His room had been meticulously neat as she expected. If it weren't for his laptop and the closet it would have looked like no one ever slept there at all. Drawers and cabinets and suitcases were locked and secured. The only other thing she found was a USB and she was not going to risk taking it, at least not without a convincing duplicate.
"So you're determined to lie."
"I'm determined to not feed into your delusions," she scowled. "Now can we go? I think I'd rather get shot than be stuck here right now."
"That can be arranged."
Excited at the mere mention of violence, he removed the gun from his belt and casually started loading it with bullets.
"I was kidding," Anya stressed, looking over him in horror.
He stopped and smirked at her nervous reaction.
"So was I. I just forgot to reload," he said with a sneer. He almost seemed disappointed as he clicked closed the cylinder. "These bullets aren't meant for you. You'll have to wait your turn."
"That being said," he continued. "Whatever you're looking for, you won't find it from me. I am very, meticulously careful. And I don't appreciate an intrusion of my privacy."
"Right."
The one who liked to intrude on others' privacy was complaining about his own. She almost felt he was trying to entice her into arguing.
"If I you ever disturb me again, my gun just might go off the next time I see you," he said, meeting her gaze and stepping towards her, gun still in hand. "And I can do worse than that. Understood?"
"Okay," she said. "Sure."
"I'm glad that's clear," he smiled.
The lights flickered again, and almost against her will she looked at the recruiter's face - the effect of the lights made him appear somehow more frightening.
"Is that all? Because I'd rather not be stuck here with you right now, whether you're feeling trigger happy or not."
Anya didn't move away but she felt her anxiety crawl over her. With her left hand she gripped the handle of the elevator beside her, the files still in her right.
Observant as he was, he seemed to notice the change in demeanor. He raised his brows and chuckled darkly.
"What?" he leaned in. "Are you worried I'm going to rape you?"
She didn't answer him, simply looking away and ignoring his blunt accusation.
"Relax," he asserted with a disgusted sneer, putting away his gun. "I don't fuck the help. It's beneath me."
"Good to know something is."
"No more sneaking around," he said, ignoring her brazen statement. "I'll know. That's all."
He stepped away from her and pressed the button on the panel. The elevator started moving again, fortunately sounding smoother this time around. The recruiter seemed determined to keep quiet the rest of the way. A good thing, of course. But she couldn't help but ask...
"So who are the bullets for, then?"
"Hm?"
"You said they're not for me, so who are they for, exactly?"
He clicked his tongue.
"I don't know yet," he said, with a tilt of his head. "Only the day will tell."
The elevator doors opened on the next floor down, and Park was there, frozen in place as he observed the two of them.
"Park, I was just taking your files over to the archives. Come in," smiled Anya. "There's room for one more."
"Nevermind," he replied, once more seemingly alarmed at the both of them. "I'll take the stairs."
What helped me write trauma better is remembering that the nervous system learns predictions. If danger used to come after quiet, calm can feel threatening. If kindness used to come with a price, kindness can feel suspicious. So healing is not just “they know they’re safe now.” Healing is the slow, annoying, deeply unfair process of teaching the body that the old prediction is not always the present truth.
journal prompts for girls who remember weird things ౨ৎ
write about a childhood memory that keeps coming back even though nothing particularly important happened in it. maybe it is just a room, or a game you used to play, or maybe the sound music or voices from another part of the house. try remembering it properly, not just the version you've been repeated to yourself. what did it smell like, was it morning or already dark, how old were you, were you wearing something you would hate now, what did you think was going on? and why did your brain keep that one tiny scene so clearly when there are whole years you can barely remember. maybe it came back because of your mood now, or because something in your life feels vaguely similar, or maybe there is no reason and that is the strangest part.
think about someone you barely knew and still remember all the time. like genuinely barely knew. one night, one week, one summer, whatever. write down everything you still know about them and then everything you have probably invented since.
write about the last time something felt a bit supernatural, even though you know it probably was not. a message arriving at the exact wrong or right moment, seeing the same number over and over again, hearing something in an empty house, dreaming about somebody and then seeing them the next day. write the sensible version first. then write the version you would tell if you were allowed to be slightly delusional about it.
make a list of things you used to be obsessed with and then dropped without ceremony. not just songs and books, also people, foods, apps you checked every day, outfits you wore until you hated them, routines, ways of speaking, entire personalities. don’t organise it into eras or explain yourself too much. I think it is more interesting to see what appears next to what. maybe there is something on the list you did not actually stop loving, you just forgot to look at it.
pick one dream (sleepy dreams not goals lol) that stayed with you and write down every part you can still remember before it disappears again. the silly details too. especially the silly details. where did it happend and did you know the place? were you alone or with someone and if so did you know them? did something feel completely normal in the dream and then horrible or strange once you woke up? and what had been going on around that time, what were you thinking about too much, who were you missing, what had you watched before bed, what were you trying not to think about. don’t make every object into a symbol because sometimes a chair is probably just a chair, but sometimes it really does feel like your brain knows something before you do.
write about an object you have kept for no proper reason. maybe it is broken, ugly, cheap, cute, from somebody you do not speak to anymore, or just something you have moved from drawer to drawer for years. where did it come from? when was the last time you actually looked at it? imagine throwing it away and be honest about whether you would care. I have things I would not notice were gone for months and would still be devastated when I finally realised.
──── ୨୧ ────
yayy that's it guys, first post after a looong time! I missed you guys so much, and I hope you all are having a lovely summer so far. <3
Plot [drama / AUish]: Our OC Anya gets some news that her estranged brother is missing, and she is determined to find him (this will go differently than what we see in the series ofc). Her only real lead is the "salesman" / "recruiter."
Previous: [Masterlist here]
Chapter warnings: none!
Chapter Summary: Work is a bitch [and Anya's still kinda moody :( ]
"I can't believe how time is flying. It's a good thing Ra-im reminded me this morning to give Mai the credentials," Jae mumbled to his coworkers. He was typing at his desk hurriedly. "I forgot she had made her 3 months already."
The office of the facility, currently occupied by three employees, was a large, dull looking, warehouse-like space. Less pristine and more industrial than the rest of the facility. It was littered with a few empty desks and chairs, some old computers, and some newer laptops. Two printers lined up against one of the walls, as did a few cabinets with some supplies.
"98 by the way."
"What?" asked Jae.
"It's been 98 days, and you took that long to realize she made her 90. You should learn to keep better track of your calendar," Lee explained. He was the only one of the three writing something down on paper, standing over the printer as he used its surface to annotate.
"Well," laughed Jae. "That's what Mai's for. Calendaring."
"Sure."
Jae and his assistant were proving to be one of the most annoying parts of his job these days. Nevertheless, ever since his recent shower session of not so pleasant thoughts, he felt much calmer about it all. He was becoming accustomed to the situation. He was good at adapting anyway.
He didn't even think about her again.
After all, he didn't much like Anya. She was a problem and an inconvenience, maybe a mildly entertaining one. And though he was found himself somewhat exasperated by her presence, he could mostly ignore it. It helped that Anya seemed to be staying out of his way for the most part. Although somehow that seemed to annoy him too.
He continued to annotate a map he had acquired, when Jae spoke up again.
"Maybe I should get her something."
"Are we supposed to? Get them something?..." said the third recruiter, Park, meekly.
"No, we don't," said Lee. "He is being dramatic."
"What do you think about a bottle of that champagne from the gala?" Jae said, looking at Lee for approval. Younger in his years, and inexperienced in the company, he seemed to sometimes do this almost subconsciously. "She liked that, from what I remember..."
Lee chuckled, keeping focused on his annotations.
"It's a good idea," said Lee monotonously. "You're so smart."
The door to the office opened, a guard holding the door open for Anya. She had been called in a few minutes prior. She walked into the office space, a place she had only been to once before now with Ra-im. Some vague classical music she had never heard before was playing nearby. The only sound aside from that was some very loud typing.
"Mai! You got here quickly," said Jae. "I have almost everything ready for you. Come sit."
Anya walked over to Jae's desk, taking the empty seat beside him. She saw Suit guy (she still mentally referred to him as such) seemingly relaxed, writing something on paper over one of the printers. The only other one there was one of the other recruiters, Park, seated a few desks away from Jae. He greeted her quickly, then went back to whatever he was typing on the computer.
"I'm a little late here, but I know you passed your 90 days," Jae sighed, organizing some files on his desk. "Sorry I took so long to update you on all of this..."
"It's fine," Anya reassured. "Don't worry."
"I can give everything to you now...Phone, information, credit card. Unless," he said. "You'd rather I give everything to you the next time I take you out."
"Now is fine," Anya said a little too quickly.
She tried to laugh it off.
"I mean to say, I'll take everything now, and then we'll have time to talk about something besides work when you do take me out," she clarified.
"Definitely. So here you go then," he said, handing over a folder and the additional necessary items.
"You have your credentials, and all the necessary information to access what you need on our computers. If it's not in your phone files, it's in your folder. The phone has limited capabilities but it's just for the necessary stuff. And the credit card is for both you and the company so don't worry about the limit..."
"That's a nice perk."
"I'll help you learn how the system works, and if you have any questions, you can always come to me or Ra-im..."
"Got it. I'm a fast learner," she said.
"I know," he smiled, typing away on his laptop.
"You know what I was really hoping for? A stationary set," Anya joked. "I was imagining pink pens with the little shapes on them..."
The joke seemed to go unnoticed by Jae, who still seemed to be focused on something on his screen.
"Oh, the door codes, almost forgot," he snapped his fingers. "The codes change every 3 months. They're saved on your phone. Try to get them memorized and delete the file when you do. I'll print them out for you just in case. That, and a schedule. Let's see...what else am I missing..."
He quickly set a few things to print. It dawned on Anya that Jae was busier than the usual, and a little unprepared. Not everyone did well under stress, she knew, and maybe deadlines were catching up to him.
"I'll memorize what I need to and fill you in if I need anything. Don't worry," she reassured again, making her way to the printer and trying to ignore the pest of the suit guy next to it. It had been for the most part working to her favor so far.
She took the schedule, the codes, and then a third paper she noticed was printed out with them. It made no real sense to her, appearing to have what were abbreviations of some kind.
"No," Lee said, snatching the paper out of her fingers. "No."
"It might be mine -" Anya said, as politely as possible.
"What is it?" asked Jae.
"Your assistant was touching something that wasn't hers. Park, you printed something, correct?" Lee said, looking over to the other recruiter.
"Yeah... the -"
"Come get it then," he said. He smacked down the paper on the broken printer next to him before he brought his attention back to his own materials.
"It was an honest mistake," Anya explained to Jae.
"Don't worry, Mai," he said, waving off the situation. He appeared to be more stressed about his lack of readiness than about anything else. "I'm printing out some e-mail addresses too. Everything's on the phone, but I know some people prefer paper to digital, so..."
"I appreciate it."
"You know, maybe you can help me search for some candidates soon..."
"Sure. Remind me how that works, exactly?" she asked casually. She organized the files as best as she could on the corner space besides the printer.
"I introduce opportunities to people who could benefit from the financial compensation of it," Jae explained. "So we target certain agreeable subjects."
That was a beautiful, political way to put it, Anya thought. The schemers really were top notch pyramid schemers of the highest levels, even embellishing their words in the workplace. The way Jae said it, it even sounded rehearsed. Overly formal and unlike him. It sounded like something his coworker might say.
"If I may contribute," added Lee. "He only needs to search for desperate people living aimless lives. That's what he's getting at."
"Well - that's a bad way to put it, but yeah. Something like that," said Jae from his desk. "We have access to a huge database. You can filter potential candidates by location, income ratios, psychological and medical profiles, criminal history, behavioral patterns..."
"That's helpful," Anya said.
"Certain people are more likely to take risks."
Like her brother, she thought. She swallowed down any remarks about how fucked up this all was.
"I usually start with something simple," said Jae. "For example, if you filter by certain locations, you can find people that are...how do I put this..."
"Liable to be persuaded," asserted Lee, in a false attempt to help. "Desperate, selfish, wasteful people living pointless and pathetic lives. You know the type. Right?"
She snapped her head to Suit guy's voice, feeling her face flush in sudden anger. Thoughts of her brother and his death seemed to flood her mind again.
"Think of them as rats at a train station." he continued, not looking away from whatever he was writing. "A lot of them have drug or addiction problems and nowhere to go in life. They'll gamble anything. Those are the proper candidates. As I said, useless and pointless."
"You really like to hear yourself talk, don't you," she said, her voice somehow radiating the calmness she obviously was losing. "I wonder what's more pathetic. People living useless, pointless lives, or being an entitled and privileged fuck -"
"Mai-" Jae said in a panic.
"Do you see that?" asked Lee, pointing over at her as he caught Jae's attention. "See what you hired? A distraction and a temper with it. I hope she comes with a warranty."
"Lee-"
"There we go again," she said, unable to stop herself from raising her voice. She gripped the printed papers like they were a lifeline, the one thing stopping her from strangling him and everyone in the room. "What the hell do you mean by distraction anyway. You make me sound like a damn Christmas tree. If I hear the word 'distraction' one more time -"
"I've never had a problem with a Christmas tree."
Before she could respond to the recruiter's absurdity, Jae interrupted again.
"Mai," urged Jae, in very obvious wide-eyed panic now. "Please."
"Can everyone please lower their voices," said the third recruiter. He appeared even more stressed and overwhelmed than Jae. Park took a tissue he had in his suit and wiped some perspiration off his forehead. "I'm trying to focus, and I'm so behind on paperwork..."
"Be more efficient next time," Lee said, before knocking on the broken printer next to him. "And don't forget your print out."
Unsurprisingly, he was the only person in the room who appeared calm and level-headed. Anya figured he got some sick joy out of watching everyone in the room lose their composure.
Anya hurriedly gathered the last of Jae's printed papers for her and went to sit back down next to him. She was thankful to have finally gotten away from the hellish printer area. Ignoring suit guy was the usual and proven method, but unfortunately this did not always go as planned. And when it didn't, interactions were still not the best.
Fortunately, after a few minutes he left, followed a few minutes later by the other, seemingly stressed recruiter.
The departure allowed her to focus a little better as Jake went over a few more things with her.
It was proving to be a long day.
That evening Anya was having dinner with Jae outside on the terrace. He seemed to have something on his mind again. She could guess as much what it was.
"Mai, don't take this the wrong way," said Jae, now that they were alone. "But don't act like that. Like you did with Lee at the office."
It bothered her to no end that Jae didn't register or care how offensive his coworker had been. Then again - How could she explain that 'Lee' had triggered her because her own brother had been targeted by them? By him?
Alex, who had a multitude of issues. And who she had been thinking about even more lately.
She couldn't say a word about it.
She mustered up the courage for a fake apology instead.
"Okay, I'll try not to. I'm sorry."
It felt so wrong to say. She scratched at her neck and looked at the glass of water on the table. Focusing on every drop of condensation so as to not look at Jae's face and give in to any detrimental negative emotions. She was not currently at her best state of mind.
"You're too pretty for that, you know," he smirked.
"Hm?" she looked across at him.
"You're too pretty for a temper."
"Nobody is, Jae."
"It's the same thing as being violent is all I'm saying. Violence is an ugly thing. It's a bad look on a woman...Well it's ugly on anyone, really," he clarified. "Anger is the same. It doesn't do anything good... And you shouldn't let Lee get to you like that."
"I try. It's just - Nevermind."
Anya corrected her posture, having realized she was slouching. She took a deep breath and looked at him again.
"Anything else?"
"I know you were offended by what he said, but I got you this job because I didn't think you were like those people we look for...You're different. You know that, right?" Jae now appeared somewhat apologetic.
Anya nodded. She didn't much care about anything he was saying at the moment. She only had to appear agreeable.
"Look, I wasn't trying to be -"
Suddenly, to her relief, his phone rang. Usually when this happened, he disappeared somewhere and left her alone. She truly needed the solace right now. She just wanted to go home.
"Sorry," he said. "I have to take this. You're not upset right?"
"Not upset," she lied. "Take your call."
"I will. A smile first."
Was he serious? The audacity of these people had no limits, she thought. She shouldn't be surprised, and yet she was.
Anya raised her eyebrows.
"A smile?"
"Yes. I don't want things on bad terms with us. So I'm asking for a smile."
"Okay," she said, gathering the small amount of patience she had left for the day. And in spite of violent thoughts, she forced a small smile onto her face. Luckily it was good enough for him to accept it and walk away.
Normally she didn't have problems with Jae, but she was about done dealing with these recruiters for the day. When he left and was out of sight, she impulsively threw the glass of water at the patio door behind him.
The action was of course followed by the universe's immediate summoning of one of the pink guards.
"Sorry, I just dropped something," said Anya, knowing very well it was the stupidest lie she could've told. She rushed over to pick up the shattered pieces of glass before the guard heavily insisted on cleaning it up instead.
The guards made her think of a book she read once that said something along the lines of "Big Brother is always watching." They apparently heard and saw almost everything that went on (though at night, she had come to notice, there were a few only located outside of the premises). Due to their eerily omnipresent nature, Anya was glad to at least still be on their good side.
Plot [drama / AUish]: Our OC Anya gets some news that her estranged brother is missing, and she is determined to find him (this will go differently than what we see in the series ofc). Her only real lead is the "salesman" / "recruiter."
Previous: [Masterlist here]
Chapter warnings: none!
Chapter Summary: Celebration of "the co. owns you now!" This is a short (kinda cute?) one.
Anya was having a particularly bad day - her and most of her team at the clinic she worked at were about to lose their jobs due to the place being bought out. Management had decided to downsize and get rid of staff, her included.
She saw it coming, but due to her exhaustion from working seven days a week she hadn't found the time to look for another job. Fortunately, she had been good at preparing and saving for times like these.
Job issues - along with fact that she realized it was nearing to be almost another year since her brother was found - had her in a terrible mood.
Time seemed to be going too fast.
She thought maybe she was in trouble. Maybe she was found out as the sister of one of their now deceased so called "subjects." Maybe Suit guy or even Jae woke up ready to kill her.
Anya arrived to the estate (by way of mysterious driver as per usual) after having been informed over the phone a day prior to come to work an hour and a half earlier. And although sleep deprived, she was ready to work.
When she stepped inside the estate, she went through the standard scanner and search. It seemed a normal beginning of the day (as normal as it got) but she was instructed by the guard that they were to go to the back terrace where the recruiters usually had their meals or spoke over the phone.
Not all bad. If I'm killed, I'll finally get some great sleep again, she thought.
Except that when she went outside, there were the pink guards holding up an equally pink in tone cake with sparklers lit. Ra-im was next to them clapping her hands, the guard who had walked her there doing the same as well.
"Surprise!" said Ra-im.
"...What's all this?" Anya said. She was entirely confused. Her birthday - both the real and the fake one - weren't anytime soon and she had no idea what on Earth they were celebrating. Her coworker and the higashi guards holding up a cake with sparklers seemed like a hell of a fever dream.
Maybe she was in the middle of some great sleep.
"Happy 90 days!"
For a moment Anya couldn't react, truly surprised. She hadn't even remembered...
"You've made 3 months with us!" Ra-im continued. "You're stuck with us now. Hope that works for you."
A warning she would have to store away in the back of her mind.
"Congratulations," said the guards in soft murmurs as they placed the cake down on the table, which was decorated with glasses of water, golden paper plates, silverware, pink napkins, and apparently, some fancy looking orange drinks too.
"Thank you...I don't know what to say. I really wasn't expecting this."
"All of this was their idea, by the way," said Ra-im, gesturing to the guards. "But I made the mimosas. The cake was a collaboration."
Being as the guards weren't renowned for the best cooking (or baking) in the place, she hoped the cake mostly consisted of Ra-im's baking contributions.
"Thank you. Really, I've had a bad week, and I had completely forgotten I made three months."
One of the guards held out a seat for her, while another started cutting her a slice of cake.
"Then let's celebrate and make it a better week. We have about an hour and fifteen before the others get here," said Ra-im, already taking a drink in her hand.
"Good. We can all enjoy then."
"Well," said one of the guards. "We just wanted to surprise you. We don't have to stay."
Anya waved off the comment.
"No, It's just us here. No suit guys telling us what to do. Masks off and relax, remember?"
"She's right," Ra-im smiled.
"Get away with it while you can," said Anya.
They acquiesced, taking their seat at the table not meant for them. The place where they likely had never enjoyed before, Anya figured, even though they heavily guarded the outside of the premises.
Anya couldn't get quite used to seeing them unmasked. The same way she was never going to get used to the absurd situation of being given a cake to celebrate a random work milestone - at a criminal organization, no less.
It was all absurdly contrary.
The good part was that she apparently had made some allies - how loyal (or not) they could be wasn't certain, but it was better than nothing.
