Cold as Ice

twenty-eight | bounty hunter | werewolf sing me a song of a lass that is gone say could that lass be I? merry of soul, she sailed on a day over the sea to Skye

[thecountessb]

[isobelsimon]

Isobel Simon as an android/robot

[natbucky]

#it is not a true otp unless they have tried to kill each other at least once

[frnknoiero]

Visit Original Link

[isobelsimon]

Don't fuck with my love That heart is so cold All over my home I don't wanna know that babe Ah lahmlahlah

Don't fuck with my love I told her she knows Take aim and reload I don't wanna know that babe Ah lahmlahlah

[istreefashions]

fashion girls

[tsvndeer-deactivated20141220]

[isobelsimon]

For a long while now I have suspected that connection with another person, a real connection, simply isn’t possible. I’m curious if you disagree. Although I suspect you feel as I do in this. As you do in so many other things. So tell me, is it possible? To truly know another person? Is it even a worthwhile pursuit? Yours is the only opinion I’ll trust, the only point of view that holds even the faintest interest. I find my diversions, as I always do, but the days are long in this grey place. I dearly hope you’ll write soon. Ever yours, Jamie Moriarty

[coltonbelfront-blog]

Bad Moon Rising || Isobel & Colton

With the boys spending their first night with Blair, Colton figured sitting around at home wouldn’t ease his mind much. It didn’t take him long to pick up his phone and text the others telling them to meet him at Twin Moon tavern. Tonight seemed like a good night to be in Belfront destruction mode. Or so he’d thought.

He got a text from Toby saying he was spending the night in with Brett, which earned a very much necessary reply of “whipped” on Colton’s behalf. Claire’s reply with a jumble of letters and something about George Clooney which lead Colton to believe that his sister had started early tonight (never mind the fact that it was only 9pm). He didn’t expect a reply from Aurora because of obvious reasons, and Caden had probably gotten freaked and accidentally broken his phone when it went off.

Honestly, Colton needed a drink more than he had when he’d left home fifteen minutes ago.

The eldest Belfront was half way through with his first beer when he caught sight of a familiar face. Sort of. Colton wasn’t sure if he had actually met the woman during his and Abels “vacation” in Scotland, or if he’d imagined it. Scotland was a rough week. None the less, Colton couldn’t help but be surprised that the woman suddenly found herself in Oxford, of all places.

What shit luck.

"Well, well, dreams do come true," he told her, a grin on his face now. "It’s been a couple of months but better late than never I guess. Did you come all this way to take up that drink offer?"

[isobelsimon]

Isobel needed to clear her head. What with Jacob being alive and in town, not to mention the UK government once again banging down her door, it had not been a good week for the Highlander, and she needed a goddamn drink.

Now, she wasn't about to go step into Fangtopia again after meeting with Kol to offer her services. Not worth it, and too many blood-suckers for her taste. She didn't mind them in general, really--after all, they tended to be the ones who would pay her the most to get rid of some annoyance or another. But then again, Oxford Barr would be too public, too easy for Collin to catch her in a corner and press their government's blackmail on her one more time.

So all that was left was the Twin Moon Tavern. It had been quite a trial getting herself in the doors on one of her first nights in town. (Because of course If she was going to extend the olive branch to the vampires, Isobel was certainly going to do so to her own kind as well.) But after some cajoling, some baring of teeth, and some idiotic oath-taking, she'd been granted full use of the tavern.

Thankfully none of the werewolf pack in town had taken much notice of her so far, which meant the evening was promising some semblance of peace with which to puzzle out her slowly accumulating pile of problems. Her hunter sensibilities still took a quick assessment of the place, checking for entrances, exits, easily defensible positions--everything seemed in order.

Until she saw him.

"Dia damnaigh sé..." She sighed to herself, catching sight of one of the far-too numerous American wolves that had stumbled upon her clan's lands within the last few years sitting at the bar. He'd offered to buy her a drink back then. Or two. Or maybe even twenty. Isobel had turned him down repeatedly, with only civility and a desire not to out herself or her family in the middle of wolf-hunting country by wolfing out keeping her from tearing his throat to shreds.

She was not about to have that night repeated once again. But before she could even take a step, he had called out to her. Isobel let out another small sigh before turning back to the obnoxious American and laid her most serious don't-fuck-with-me stare on him.

"Don't push your luck, Belfront." Isobel said, her lip curling up in a bit of a snarl that only enhanced her Scottish brogue. "I came here for some peace, not to babysit a puppy barely off his Ma's teat. I don't want the trouble that comes with you." As if to prove a point, the girl tossed her long blonde hair over her shoulder and pointedly sat down at a seat far down the bar from him. "Scotch on the rocks. McClelland's if you have it." She muttered to the bartender, tossing some money on the bar when the drink finally came. For a short while she sipped at the whisky, savoring the burn as it rolled down her throat.

And yet there was another annoying little burn that wouldn't just go away.

"...You know starin' at me isn't gonna make me change my mind, right?" Isobel said, her face still as stone and twice as cold when she turned to stare straight back at Colton, almost daring him to keep pushing it.

[velichors]

[amyylouadams]

[heathicorn]

#easy breezy beautiful gonna poison you

[detectivejoanarchive]

Addiction is tricky. For example: a man who quit smoking for 11 years spent 15 seconds in an elevator with a man smoking a cigarette. He gave in. What I’m trying to say is I think I love you again.

(inspired by)

[rubyredwisp]

A  s m i l e  is the prettiest thing you can wear.

[isobelsimon]

as cold as ice with the air of a queen -- an isobel simon moodboard [2/?]

[jacob-claymore]

What a Wicked Game You Play || Isobel & Jacob (closed)

[jacob-claymore]

Jacob didn’t know if her touch helped or hindered. His brow creased and veins softly protruded from the skin at his temple. He was straining, using every bit of self-control he’d mustered over all his years of life, to keep himself together. Especially once she mentioned trust. Wasn’t that the point of all of this? How deeply he’d trusted her? He’d given her the key she’d let herself into his home with to murder him.

He’d trusted her with every fiber of his being. And it had been that trust that had nearly killed him.

But something strange began to occur to him. Maybe it was this that hurt him the most. His mind had always been so advanced, so perceptive about those around him. He’d always known that he’d never solve Isobel like he did others; he always felt as if there were some side of her that were shrouded in an impenetrable black mist that he simply couldn’t see through. But the parts he’d been able to see - he understood. The parts she’d revealed to him - he’d solved.

Was it his pride that was most wounded to find that he was wrong about her? Was that why he’d come all this way? If he’d truly been wrong about her, she would have shot him the moment she saw it was him sitting in her parlor.

No. He would have died that night in London.

No. He hadn’t been wrong.

She was still Isobel.

His hands were shaking now as they still rested against her face. There were a culmination of emotions running through him, and he wasn’t quite sure which one he was feeling. He knew she was still waiting for him to respond; to say something in his irreverently eloquent way of explaining things beyond the most finite detail. But nothing came. He could make no sound.

He could only hope - as they stood in the grip of one another - that she could still read through his eyes as easily as she’d always been able to. To see into his heart and just… know what was in his heart of hearts. As he gazed into hers, he could see the cold hardened steel she’d put around herself. It was a sturdier version of the walls she’d had when they’d first met. She only would have re-erected these walls if she were trying to protect herself from some undeniable pain.

Pain. Or regret. Or loss.

And it was in that moment that he knew that there were no more words to be said between them. Not right now at least. And so, he said nothing. 

Instead…

He leaned in and pressed his lips hard against hers, pouring every ounce of pain and misery and longing out of his body.

Because with Isobel, there was one thing that was true about him that had never been true before or since.

With Isobel, he was truly a fool.

[isobelsimon]

To say that Isobel was shocked by this turn of events would be a gross understatement. She had expected more screaming from him. She had prepared herself for anger, for hatred, for all-too-correct accusations of her own character faults.

But instead, Jacob surprised her once more as he leaned forward to press a kiss against her lips.

He was the only one that ever could surprise her...

Isobel opened herself to his kiss, the hand that lay on his cheek sliding around to the back of his neck. She pulled him closer to her, tugging on his vest as she stumbled gently back once more until they were pressed against the parlor wall. Even then, Isobel still tugged him closer to her so that she could feel the weight of his body against hers.

Hell, if this still was a dream--which Isobel wasn't completely convinced against as Jacob hadn't yet shot her in the chest--she wanted to melt into every piece of him. She wanted to take his pain, drink it all in and pour something close to peace back into his heart.

She couldn't give him happiness. At least not in the way she wanted to. It wasn't part of her. Isobel hadn't been happy for the last twelve years.

No, that's a lie... Jacob's voice echoed in the chambers of her mind, a guilty conscience always coming up at the most inopportune moments. You were happy with him once.

The girl pushed the thought away, concentrating instead on the broken heart she had seen in Jacob's eyes. The pain and betrayal and... and the small glimmer of hope. She clutched onto that, trying to fan its flames with what small candlelight she still held in her own heart. Perhaps if she could give him that hope, she could calm her own demons.

"I'm here, I'm here." She whispered finally as they broke for air. Her thumb pressed soft circles along the back of his neck while her nose trailed gently along his own. "I'm still me, Jacob. I promise." Isobel pressed another firm kiss to his lips, leaning up into him.

A question lingered in the back of mind, though-- how long would she still exist? How long until someone learned the key to unlock her mind? It had happened before, blank spots in her memories, only to be followed by visions of blood on her hands and the taste of copper on her tongue. He had nearly become one of those black moments, only saved by Isobel's final acquiescence into ending his life of her own accord.

And now that he was alive... How long until her mistake was discovered?

Part of Isobel found she didn't quite care at the moment as the hand that had clutched his vest so tightly instead ran slowly down the front of his shirt. Her long fingers trailed gently along the edge of his jeans once before pushing up underneath his t-shirt to play with the soft tendrils of dark hair upon his torso. Jacob was alive, Jacob was here with her, and she couldn't even begin to explain the relief she felt at having him in her arms.

If they were going to die tonight because of her sins, they damn well might as well die together.

[isobelsimon]

and i still love you with every inch of my pitch-black heart -- a jacobel moodboard [2/?]

[jacob-claymore]

What a Wicked Game You Play || Isobel & Jacob (closed)

[jacob-claymore]

Jacob hadn’t forgotten. It was their most subtle dance. They had been so in tune with one another for so long. At crime scenes, they’d been able to carry on full conversations just with the slightest twitches in their bodies; never uttering one word. He might have almost died, but not one inch of his intellect or perception had gone with the blood he’d lost. But her movements now… They weren’t welcome. They only served to further complicate this puzzle that was their shattered relationship. It seemed every time he clicked one piece of the puzzle into place, ten more pieces fell into his lap.

His lips pursed ever so slightly before relaxing, his brows crinkled only momentarily. She’d obviously been much better at reading him than he’d ever been at reading her. This frustrated him. Her laughter frustrated him. Her words pushed every single fragile button. He’d never viewed himself as vulnerable, especially never fragile. But here he stood, barely holding himself together.

His grey-blue eyes gazed at her in complete silence. There were so many things he could have said; so many paths he could have taken. “As I walked here,” he said, deciding to go with the truth, “I feared death, it’s true. But as I stand here, realizing how futile this mission of mine was, I’ve never wished for death more.” His fingers all stretched down towards the ground before curling back into the fist they’d previously been in.

That could laugh she’d let out only moments ago rung in his ears and stirred his blood. There was one thing he wanted. His eyes broke from hers and turned down to the floor as he felt his anger building again. “Was it all a lie?” he asked her, his voice barely above a whisper. When she didn’t answer, his eyes snapped up and he crossed the room towards her rather quickly until his hands gripped her face, “Was it all a lie!?”

[isobelsimon]

Pain went shooting through Isobel's chest at Jacob's words. So he did wish for death. Death at her hands, even. It was the most terrible thing she had ever heard. Of course, being who she was, nothing passed across her face to show it, but she still took the precaution of glancing away from Jacob. He'd always been far too good at seeing beyond the porcelain mask she wore; and none of this would be helped by her guilty conscience.

Yet even as she opened her mouth to speak, perhaps to make some sly joke in order to deflect this terrible spiral of his, Jacob beat her to it. And his question, well... it stunned her. Isobel's gaze snapped back to stare Jacob down once more, her spine stiffening like a rod.

A lie? Surely... Surely he couldn't think that of her. Yes, of course, Isobel knew he was well within his rights to do as much. Anyone with even a small percentage of the intelligence Jacob had could draw such conclusions. But he was not an average man. So he must know to look deeper, past the surface, past the secrets she could never reveal, all to see the truth that burned bright even within a heart as pitch-black as her own.

He caught her off-guard, then, as trapped within her own mind as Isobel was, she let down her defenses for just a moment. Just long enough for him to advance on her and cause the young woman to stumble back towards the parlor wall, her body pressed firmly against it for support. The pistol she held clattered to the floor with a solid thunk, thankfully, Isobel thought in the distant corner of her mind, without going off and shooting either of them in the foot.

Jacob's rage and aching pain was overpowering, radiating off of him like a heat wave. It pressed upon her heart with a unbearable weight. She had never wanted this. Not for him. He didn't deserve this.

"I never lied to you." Isobel hissed back, her own now-empty hands reaching up to gently stroke Jacob's face as she pressed her forehead to his and took a step forward into him. "If I can promise you anything, I can promise that I have never once in my life lied to you..." She swallowed a lump in her throat, the fingers of one hand still tracing gentle designs across his cheek as the other traveled down his chest to gently grasp at his vest and pull him ever so slightly towards her.

"If you... If you can't trust anyone, if you can't trust me..." She whispered. "Then who can you trust?" Isobel's gaze flickered over his face. The girl had to admit to herself that for how horrible this situation was, for how the probability of Jacob picking up her gun and shooting her point-blank was rising with each passing moment... This was perhaps one of the happiest moments of her life.

Jacob was alive. He was alive and passing well. And above all that... He was here. She had been so certain that she would never again be able to run her fingers across his rough stubbled cheeks, or hear the beating of his heart under her palm, or feel the warmth of his breath against her skin. Or even more than all the rest, seeing the constellations trapped within the confines of his eyes.

"Look at me, Jacob. Look me in the eyes and tell me that you can be so very, very sure that nothing I ever said to you was true. You with all your deductions and observations... Tell me."

[isobelsimon]

his death was a game i didn't want to win -- a jacobel moodboard [1/?]

[flaeiou]

Visit Original Link

Take me to church. I’ll worship like a dog at the shrine of your lies. I’ll tell you my sins and you can sharpen your knife. Offer me that deathless death. Good God, let me give you my life.

[jacob-claymore]

What a Wicked Game You Play || Isobel & Jacob (closed)

[jacob-claymore]

Jacob had noticed every single move she’d made. It was so… Out of character. To see her jump back, to see her wince; but it was the quiver of her lip and the need to tighten her grip on her gun. Those were the things that caused him the most inner turmoil. “Well, you obviously aren’t the Isobel that I remember,” he said, arms hanging at his side. “The Isobel I knew never would have hesitated to kill someone she wanted dead.”

Jacob’s lower jaw moved back and forth for a moment before he shook his head a little, “You had to have had a reason to want me dead. Whatever the reason was, it must make you rather unhappy to find that I’m alive. My body has only barely healed from the knife you left in my back. Funny thing about having a mind like mine; able to memorize and retain so many things. I wake up many nights feeling as if the knife was never removed.”

His blue eyes stared at her, completely emotionless. He was handling this as if it were his job; as if it were a puzzle he had to solve. Like it was his own demise he were trying to predict. “Perhaps that was your motive. Perhaps I offended you in some way I was unaware of and you devised the best way to torture me. To make sure that I would feel the - literal - stab of betrayal in my back for the rest of my life.”

A short laugh then escaped him, “I must applaud you. You did quite well. I haven’t yet figured out how you knew exactly what to do to insert yourself into my life. Though perhaps I just didn’t give enough thought to the fact that I’d taken a professional killer into my bed. How foolish of me to think that you would never turn these skills upon me. When really, I was your easiest target, was I not?”

[isobelsimon]

"And who said I was the one who wished you dead?!" Isobel snapped quickly, feeling the sting of his accusations hitting her deep. Not that he was speaking untruths. She certainly wasn't the Isobel he once knew. She was worse. Colder inside, more cruel. And yet it still remained that this ghost could tame her. Perhaps because he had been her conscience ever since she had left London, the memories of his warm breath whispering in her ear.

"I would never... want to kill you. Not in a million years." She said with a sigh, taking a moment to assess whether or not Jacob looked as if he'd take a step closer. His scent still gave off the tang of anger, but if Isobel knew anything, she knew the look in Jacob's eyes. He was trying to puzzle her out. It was almost a relief to know that at least was one thing that even death could not take from him.

She lowered her gun a fraction of an inch, her hands still at the ready if he chose to advance on her yet again, but still tilted the gun in a show of a wary attempt at diffusing the situation. "You get like this... Jacob, you get like this, you look at a thing too hard, you try and puzzle it all away, and in doing so you see things that aren't there." Isobel stared back at him, her ice blue eyes staring into the brown of his own.

"You accuse me of unhappiness at seeing you alive. You accuse me of... of purposefully wishing you ill, of picking you out at random for some imagined slight against me to destroy." Her voice was calculated, constant, her words lilting in her brogue, some attempt at soothing Jacob's racing, enraged mind. "And yet, you give no quarter to any other rationale. You say you gave no thought to taking a killer into your bed. What makes you think I did so with murder on my mind?"

Isobel shifted her weight once more, rocking back from the balls of her feet to rest heavily on her heels. Jacob was the most perceptive man she'd ever met. It was one of the many things about him that fascinated her, in fact. He'd certainly see how she was using body language to try and show how she would open herself up to him--a sort of non-verbal white flag, if you will.

They had always been able to carry on multiple conversations simultaneously this way. Even when they'd argue, they'd been able to use small shifts of their weight, twitches of their hands or fingers, tilts of their head to speak soft words of adoration to each other. Isobel had been told once that it was a thing of beauty to behold. And she had always been more than eager to agree.

"You don't make an easy target by seducing them. There's a closeness created there. Too much of a risk of damaging yourself in the process. No... You know me, Jacob. You know I don't take such risks. Neither am I so vain or easily stirred to anger than some small slight would rake a sort of desperate bloodlust within me." Isobel tilted her head slightly to the side, cocking a brow as if to ask if he returned the promise of truce before continuing. "No, as I said before, if I was the one who wished you dead, you would have been buried underground a long time ago. I do not make mistakes."

Yet the unspoken truth lay between them: She had indeed attempted to kill him. Whether it was fate or her own doing that had kept him from falling off the brink was anyone's guess. Even if Isobel did not wish to admit it, the fact that Jacob was alive became living proof of so very many mistakes the girl had made.

"So then let me pose to you a few questions of my own, if I may interrupt your puzzling... What is your motive for coming here, Jacob? What use is it for your to come and find me? Are you looking for absolution? Or perhaps vengeance? You certainly could make a case for such heavy-handed dealings, if that's what you're after." She shrugged a shoulder and laughed coldly, more derision to herself than aimed towards Jacob. "Or are you sincerely seeking the death I so apparently deprived of you? I didn't think of you as someone so ready for the grave when there are still people to solve... Including myself, as I do believe I am still your most difficult puzzle of all."