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salorem · 1 year

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happy vday

love languages! VERY long post below

words of affirmation

kosuke

esra

edwin (receiving)

priya

yeongwon

kris

physical touch

andreia

noemia

kade

ryan (giving)

receiving gifts

bonna

pearl

yoongi

yeongwon (giving)

mable

kho (receiving)

quality time

ryan (receiving)

courtney

ethan

magna

thomas (receiving)

acts of service

alex

thomas (giving)

monte

kho (giving)

edwin (giving)

kaito

===

kosuke - words of affirmation they love telling their friends/students/coworkers that they care for them and that they're always willing to help out with things!! but mostly they always find the time to compliment others and encourage them to keep going (esp. if they're down) they love getting support as well, but they don't expect it back from others to the extent that they give. a quick pep talk is usually what they need to get back on their feet <:]

esra - words of affirmation he's usually embarrassed to say sappy stuff in usual circumstances, but he's definitely a guy that will cheer you on and support you. if you're feeling down, he'll definitely be there with kind words and letting you know that your feelings are valid and that you are loved when he's feeling down, he prefers a combo of both being comforted with words but also a big hug. even when he's not down, he always gets amped up when people believe in him so please give him those encouraging words!!

edwin - words of affirmation (receiving)/acts of service (giving) honestly he doesnt hear "thank you" enough and that's really all he needs to get throughout the day. he's usually very happy to help people and shows his care through that more than talking, but if you really want to get to him then just sit him down and earnestly tell him how much you appreciate him and his efforts. dude will break down and sob he tends to do things for people if he really cares for them. there's a reason why he took the caretaker role for his siblings lol

priya - words of affirmation honestly she's kind of abrasive usually, but she genuinely means all of her compliments. it's rare and few and far in between, but if you want someone who is super passionate about making sure you feel great about yourself, then priya's your girl she also loves being complimented. she's kind of egotistical and she's like "hahhh yeah i know you do/i know i am" whenever you tell her those things, but she genuinely does appreciate it!

yeongwon - words of affirmation (receiving), receiving gifts (giving) honestly this guy's a fucking mess so he really needs encouragement to keep him going!! compliment him on his art or whatever and he will Cry (not really but he will feel super embarrassed because he's not used to it/will never be used to it). he also loves to express his gratitude to people for the things they do and he always makes sure to repay them, one way or another <:D

kris - words of affirmation kris's a pretty quiet person but he really does feel great when he gets complimented. it's a very easy way to make him smile and he always puts on the best performance for people! it's one of the many reasons why he lives performing so much on stage, he gets to bask in his fan's appreciation and also be able to return the favor tenfold

andreia - physical touch she's usually pretty light with her touches but she definitely will be more affectionate around those she cares with. shes a big ol softy that likes to hold peoples hands or lightly touches their arms if they're less okay with that kind of intimacy. massages are very typical of her to offer/give when she sees her friends tense, but she's also very okay with giving hugs :) she's always really happy when kosuuke gives her a good massage. she's always unknowingly tense and kosuke usually is able to relieve the stress from her shoulders uvu b

noemia - physical touch she's very playful-aggressive with how she shows her affection, like with friendly slaps on the back or elbowing people in the shoulder. but she also loves giving a good hug! she usually has to tone down her shows of affection nowadays because she's not quite able to control her strength fully, but hugs are usually a safe option to go for her she thinks hugs are great. if she's feeling down, she'll need one. otherwise, just keep up with her slapstick and you'll be good

kade - physical touch they're a very huggy person. they get really happy and they want a hug. they get sad, more hugs. they just think that hugs are the greatest thing ever!! but also they love more gentle touches and doing affectionate things (to the point that it might look romantic), like running their hands through people's hair or slinging their arms over peoples shoulders

ryan - physical touch (giving), quality time (receiving) he's used to being a little aggressive, so he tends to roughhouse for fun just to show his affections with his friends. he's not used to expressing them otherwise, so while he does like his intimate moments (like hugs, light touches, etc.), he much prefers being rough with people he loves hanging out with his friends. genuinely he will make the most out of anything and everything, even if you didn't really have a plan in mind before you met. he enjoys doing what his friends like to do!

bonna - receiving gifts bonna's always liked receiving gifts. she doesn't usually get them now that she's older, but even the smallest things make her feel loved and remembered. it's easy to get her to basically almost squeal with happiness if you get her something bunny related! her favorite animals are bunnies :] she also likes to give people things, but it's usually in the form of money if she can't decide exactly what to get someone. as you'd expect she's REALLY good at secret santa, not like it's a competition or anything

pearl - receiving gifts she doesn't usually ask for much, but she enjoys shopping around and getting people gifts! especially when they have significance to her :] it's usually very practical things that vary from person to person she loves getting little toys and stuff, but she prefers things like pens or cute desk/novelty items to keep on her person yoongi - receiving gifts you know your girl loves frog stuff. she owns frog-themed EVERYTHING. she's super happy whenever you get her things in that vein!! as for gift giving, she tries her very best to find something that her friends would like. it takes a bit of time and contemplation, but she will go through hell and back to find The Perfect Gift

mable - receiving gifts mable's always been a bit shy, and she's found that giving gifts is the easiest way to show her appreciation to those she loves. it doesnt even need an exchange of words, but honestly she likes to write little letters because she finds it easier to put her words down there. she likes gifts for similar reasons, plus she thinks that putting the time and effort to look for something that reminds them of her is really sweet!

courtney - quality time courtney's actually a bit shy but she loves spending time with those she loves! she feels like she can really let herself go and just be herself, and being around them pretty much just relieves any worries about being judged. she also just loves hanging out and spending time out and about with them and catch up

ethan - quality time he definitely is the kind of person to just spend all day out and about. he lives for travelling and adventure, and spending time with people he cares for the most is his ideal pasttime! he and brutus (his boyfriend) would definitely spend an entire summer just travelling together still, he's no stranger to just chilling out and winding down at home. he needs a break sometimes yo

magna - quality time she was raised in a really close-knit family so it's no surprise to see her loving to spend time with people. she thinks that while gift giving is really nice, she thinks that spending time with people and making memories is something irreplaceable! she looks fondly back on her times back at home and misses spending time with them a lot

alex - acts of service he's usually very busy with something one way or another, so when he bothers to take some time out of his day to help you, you mean a lot to him. it's a very subtle thing especially considering he isn't very affectionate otherwise, but don't take it for granted! inversely, he doesn't ask much from people. he appreciates anyone who offers to help, but you'd have to get past his refusals first lol

thomas - acts of service (giving), quality time (receiving) thomas isn't the one to be outwardly affectionate, plus he's a bit abrasive when it comes to what he says and does. people don't always like it when he does it, but he shows his affections by basically doing things for other people. still, that comes very rarely since he's so self-centered. if he helps you with anything at all, he thinks of you as a very good friend/close he likes spending time with his friends and just hanging out. he's more reserved in this context, but depending on the situation he can have a lot of fun. plus, it's always nice to stretch your legs after a while, right?

monte - acts of service monte is very outright with his actions and will do everything in his power to help people. he just loves making people smile, and helping is usually the way to go! he also really likes being relied on and will always set aside time for people, friend or not. the main difference between strangers and his friends/family is that he usually considers their own preferences first-- do they WANT to be helped? he's definitely gotten in the way of them before, and reining himself in a bit makes their relationship a bit better he loves it when favors are returned, but it's not necessary. no strings attached

kho - acts of service (giving), receiving gifts (receiving) kho looks out for number one (ie herself). when she helps you and doesn't leave you for dead, she considers you an ally and someone she trusts! but don't thank her for her help, really-- she doesn't wanna hear it. she loves getting gifts. she won't ever admit it, but if you give her a gift with a note, she'll keep it somewhere safe and keep it close to her heart :]

kaito - acts of service kaito loves helping others. it's the main reason why they joined the guard after all! but it's especially obvious when they're your friend. they will bend over backwards just to help you out in your time of need and is always there in case you need something. they don't expect others to help them in return, especially since they believe they're capable, but they'll happily accept assistance and actually work alongside you to finish the job

#kaito #kho #thomas #edwin #ryan #alex #noemia #andreia #kosuke #priya #ethan #mable #courtney #pearl #kris #monte #magna #yoongi #yeongwon #kade #esra #bonna

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maraudersbitchesassemble · 2 years

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This one is on @zaddylokiandthorsimp 's request.

Ram × Reader, Bheem × Sister!reader

This is my first time writing smut so I'm sorry if it's not what you wanted. I also wrote this at like 4 am so bare with me on the spelling errors.

_________________________________________

I was talking to Seetha when I saw Anna and Ram coming towards us.

"Let's go, ladies. The food is ready." Ram said as he came closer and kissed my cheek, his beard brushing against my jawline.

"Ram! Anna's right here!" I scolded him, slapping away his hand that was about to be wrapped around my waist but Anna was quick to say, "Are Chinnamaa, don't scold bhaiyya for showing his affection for you. Let's go and eat before the food gets cold. Come on."

As we sat at the table, Anna at the head of the table, me to his left, Seetha to Anna's right and Ram beside me, and seeing as Anna wanted us to show affection and that I had to get back at Ram for teasing me last night (enter naughty thoughts here), I decided to tease Ram right now.

I started by keeping my hand on his thigh but he did not seem to notice.

I slowly started sliding my hand up and I felt his gaze on me but kept talking to the other both at the table as if i wasn't doing anything. I just kept sliding my hand until I reached his crotch and then slowly started to rub my hand along his shaft.

"What are you doing, Priya? Looks like the punishment you got last night wasn't quite enough, was it?" He whispered to me, his voice a bit raspy.

"Just getting back at you" I said, a smirk on my face. My hand pressing down on his now prominent erection.

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

We got home and as soon as we were inside, the front door shut with a loud thud and I was pushed up against it.

"Ready for your punishment, Sweetheart?" Ram whispered into my ear in a mock sweet tone as I tried to get my hands out of his tight grip but he pinned them above my head.

He pushed his hand into my skirt and lightly traced his hand over the exact spot I wanted him to touch. "Oh, you're so wet just from teasing me!"

He pulled his hand out and picked me up, walking towards the bedroom.

He sat down at the edge of the bed with me still in his lap.

"So, what do you think I should do with you? Hmm?" He whispered to me, his lips brushing agaist my earlobe, causing me to moan out load.

"Fuck" He groaned and I sucked in a breath.

"Remove your clothes and lie down on the bed." He ordered, "And don't look at me with those pretty doe-eyes, darling, I know you enjoy being punished."

I bit my lip and got up to undress as I heard him open the almirah and pull something out from the bottom compartment.

I lay down on my back as he stood at the foot of the bed, still fully dressed a rope in his hand.

"So, so gorgeous. I regret having to punish you, love, but my dumb little baby doesn't seem to regret teasing me, huh?" He climbed up on top of me and sat with his legs of the sides of my hip.

"What are you doing, Ram?" I asked but he looked at me with a "Shut up or I'll increase your punishment" look and I quit talking.

He took my hands and tied them to the bedframe, loose enough to not hurt me but tight enough to not let me move.

"Now, I'm going to have my dessert and no, you don't get to cum." He said and my eyes widened as I pleaded, "Ram, please-"

"Shhhhh" He sat down on his knees on the floor near the foot of the bed, resting my legs on his shoulders, hungrily gazing at my pussy.

He began kissing the tender skin of my inner thighs, drawing torturously slow circles on my clit, teasing me.

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

It had now been god knows how much time since he started. He had brought me to the edge several times but each time stopped just before I could fall of the edge and have what i now was desperate for. My legs were shaking uncontrollably, making my anklets produce melodious music which seemed to match the sounds being produced from my mouth.

"Ra- Ram please." I chocked out as i sobbed.

"Awww, is my dumb baby crying? Does she want to cum?" He said in tone of mock concern, with an exaggerated pout on his lips, which glistened from my juices.

I quickly nodded in a yes, my brain now fuzzy from all the teasing, an orgasm the only thing on my mind.

He pulled away from me before whispering "Cum for me" and then diving back in.

It didn't even take a second before I fell over the edge and got the sweet-sweet release i craved. My eyes closed tight and my jaw slack, it took me sometime to realise that Ram hadn't stopped.

"Ram." I cried out, "I'm sensitive"

He didn't reply but kept going at it. My fuzzy brain finally comprehended that he wasn't done with the punishment, he had chosen another punishment.

"Ram! OH MY GOD! Ram! Pleaseeee. I'm sorry." I tried moving my legs off of his shoulder but he didn't budge.

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

After I'd had about 4 more really powerful orgasms, he finally stopped and got up. He climbed up and caressed my cheek with his hand as he lovingly whispered, "Did I go overboard with it? I'm so sorry if I did. I'm going to take good care of you now."

He untied my hands and was about to lift me up when I stopped him, "Ram, wait. You didn't get to cum."

"That's okay, love. You are more important than some stupid orgasm. I know you must be tired. Let's get you cleaned up now." He said as he turned to go into the bathroom but I caught his wrist.

"I would have used my safe-word if it was too much. Come here now."

"But-" he began but I cut him off by pulling him down and kissing him. I put one arm around his neck, the other caressing the side of his cheek, his hands on my waist.

"I was a good girl while taking my punishment, right? Now I want you to fuck me. Please" I said with the puppy dog eyes I knew he couldn't resist.

He thought for a moment before giving in and starting to unbutton his shirt, slowly.

I quickly got up and sat on my knees on the bed, ripping his shirt off.

"Can't seem to get enough of me, can you?" He said with a smirk, his cocky, dominant side coming into action again.

He quickly unbuttoned his pants and pulled out his cock. It always surprised me how he would fit inside me.

"Quit the staring and lie down." I was brought out of my trance and quickly followed his order.

He got on top of me, one hand holding him up as with the other he grabbed his dick and rubbed it over my folds to lubricate it.

'You ready?" He asked as I nodded and he finally pushed in.

His rhythm slow at first but quickly becoming fast. After about a few thrusts, I felt him twitch inside me, a sign that he was going to come. He usually lasted way longer but in teasing me, he had teased himself too.

"Ram. Fuck. You're huge! Ugh." I moaned as I felt his thrusts getting sloppier.

"Where do you want me to cum?" He asked as I felt my sixth orgasm approach me as well.

"I want you to cum in me! Wanna get nice and round with your baby!" I whispered into his ear and that seemed to do it for him as I felt his cum shoot into me. He was gonna pull out but I stopped him.

"Just stay inside me for a while" I requested him and he hummed and moved so that I was laying on top of him.

Gonna tag the other RRR simps 💞

@lil-stark @manwalaage @contemporarykafka @rambheem-is-real @gauri-vishalakshi @itsfookingloosah @eremin0109 @winiwee @how-is-it-in-london @thewinchestergirl1208 @mayuriebubblie

#rrr #ram charan #desi tumblr #desiblr #rrr movie #desi #jr ntr #ram #bheem #rambheem #Ram × y/n

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offtopicoverload · 3 years

Text

Ten Years Later

I did it again.

Here's a oneshot based on @bubblybabynailpolish's list of hcs of where the Season 2 Islanders are by the ten year reunion because I love it. This is pretty cheesy, but it’s what I’m here for

Marisol x MC (Dahlia)

~6k words I got carried away

Marisol left the Villa in near tears, everything she worked for and everyone she’d grown to care about gone in a single terrible instant, and it hadn’t even been her fault that time. She hadn’t been unwilling to commit or said something stupid, she hadn’t gotten distant or broken it off because she got nervous. She had been on her best behaviour, been the best partner she could be just to prevent something awful from happening.

But it still did. It still happened and it still ripped her heart from her chest and stomped on it mercilessly, crushing the mass of muscle and tissue into a pulp on the Villa’s lawn. She tried not to break down, to lose herself when cameras were trained on her, but the second she was free, she snapped and sobbed and drenched her sleeves in tears and snot while Bobby tried to calm her down.

They were sitting in her hotel room, drinking all the alcohol in the minibar and mourning their failures in the Villa. Mourning Bobby’s inability to find a relationship that wasn’t platonic and mourning Marisol’s failed, shattered, disastrous relationship. A relationship she actually thought would work out, thought had a bright future, thought was one of the best things that had ever happened to her. But she also thought it would all turn out to be a crazy, unbelievable dream that’d disappear as she woke up alone in her flat like any other day.

Only it wasn’t just a happy-go-lucky dream, it was a nightmare, a horror movie that took forever to get to the action, a slowly building fire that hit something important and sparked it to life, blowing up an entire complex in one go. It was her worst nightmare come to life, and just as horrifying as she always imagined.

Dahlia had cheated on her.

Dahlia had cheated on her with Elisa. She kissed her on the roof terrace and almost broke down when she told Marisol that night. Her voice cracked and her eyes sparkled with tears as Marisol stared blankly, not a single coherent thought in her head as everything fell apart in her hands, everything that was so close to being perfect.

Then the anger came, the frustration. It wasn’t even Marisol’s fault this time, there was nothing she did wrong, so how could it just collapse like this? That wasn’t fair, she’d done everything right, she didn’t do anything major so horribly wrong that Dahlia needed to escape. Which left the only answer: she just was wrong. She was wrong for Dahlia, she was wrong for Graham, she was wrong for Rocco. Even if the latter two took her some time to figure out why she’d run from them so quickly, she soon understood that she was wrong for all of them. She was wrong, in general.

She wasn’t Elisa, with her followers and confidence. She didn’t like stupid jokes, she didn’t like boats, she didn’t like travelling, she didn’t like cranes, she didn’t like golf, she didn’t like anything they did. And she didn’t pretend she did, she didn’t care to humour them, she didn’t want to waste her time on pointless conversations and discussions.

And so, they drank. And drank and drank until Bobby was delirious and Marisol’s heart was too numb to hurt for a little while, and then they drank some more. Marisol thought her skull was going to split in half the next day, but she didn’t care. She had to get through the plane home before she could waste more time caring.

---

Ten years later, and Marisol gets an invite she really wants to decline. Not necessarily because she doesn’t want to go - although, she doesn’t - but because she’s got work to do and Saturdays are date night and she doesn’t like travelling and she’s supposed to take her nephew to see a movie he’s been excited about for months that Sunday and - okay, she just doesn’t want to go.

It’s not like she even kept in touch with everybody. At most, she’ll chat with Bobby when he reaches out, or catch up with Priya if she’s in Manchester, maybe FaceTime with Chelsea when the blonde’s on one of her kicks to chat with someone random.

She was too caught up in school and work to bother with most of them after the finale, and the rest she wasn’t exactly on good terms with. She’d gotten in fights with most of the girls, dumped Graham, moved on from Rocco maybe too quickly, never even clicked with Gary or Ibrahim, and Dahlia… Dahlia had cheated on her.

So not the best terms, no. And Marisol isn’t very eager to reopen old wounds just to see people that are all happier and better off than her. Hope’s absolutely loaded, Lottie’s an actual celebrity, Gary somehow has a bunch of kids, and Dahlia? Dahlia’s actually not done much, stayed at the foundation and hasn’t managed to hold onto a relationship, but she never wanted to do much in the first place, so maybe that does count as wildly successful.

Marisol drops her phone to the counter, the email still open on the screen and frowns at the device, her foot tapping against the kitchen tile. She huffs, turns away from the counter, and yanks open the fridge, scavenging for something to eat; it’s why she came in the kitchen in the first place.

“Everything all right?” James’ voice calls into the kitchen, his head peeking around the corner with furrowed eyebrows.

Marisol turns, meeting his bright blue eyes, “Yep,” she forces a smile. “Everything’s fine.”

He forces a smile back, she can tell he either doesn’t believe her or isn’t that interested, “Alright, then,” and turns, disappearing further into the flat.

Marisol sighs, her eyes falling shut as she pulls in a steadying breath. She grabs yoghurt out of the fridge, turns and drops it on the counter and pulls out a spoon from the silverware drawer. She slides into a kitchen stool, pulling her phone closer and staring at the invitation again.

She really doesn’t want to go.

---

She went. She’s here. At the reunion. With the other ex-Islanders. And their families. In London.

She’s here in the closest replica she could find to the outfit she wore at her second to last recoupling, the one where she picked - actually, that doesn’t matter. It’s just one of her favourites, a sharp suit with nothing underneath the blazer.

She steps inside all on her lonesome, feeling out of place as the other early guests chat and drink and mingle. She fidgets with her outfit, fixes her hair neurotically, pushes her glasses up the bridge of her nose. She starts reaching for her phone to give her something to do just as she’s accosted, arms slipping around her neck from the side.

Chelsea chatters excitedly in her ear, hugging her tightly before pulling her further into the venue before Marisol can even get a word in, her grip on Marisol’s arm like a bear trap, biting and tearing her skin apart as her nerves simultaneously destroy her organs. Chelsea drags her over to Lottie, Hannah, and Priya mingling together near the bar before striding over to it, Hannah’s arm looped through Lottie’s as she beams goofily at something the goth said.

“Hey, babes!” Priya chirps, wrapping her arms around Marisol and squeezing tight, air-kissing her cheeks as she pulls away with a wide grin. “Ohmigod, I missed you! It’s been too long since you came up to Manchester!”

“Yeah, definitely,” Marisol smiles back, whiplash shaking her as she finally finds her voice, her hands gripping Priya’s forearms as she meets her eyes.

“So… you’ve been up to some stuff, huh?” Lottie’s voice draws their eyes, a warm smile on her lips as she glances to the ring on Marisol’s finger.

She raises her hand with a blush, an extravagant engagement ring sitting below her knuckle, “Oh, uh, yeah.”

Chelsea returns and passes Marisol a drink, still bouncing on her toes as she glances around the group excitedly. “Is he your prince charming?” Hannah chimes, smiling wide as Lottie chuckles beside her.

Marisol laughs, “I guess so. Don’t really believe in that, though,” she shrugs.

“Tell us about him, babes, you’ve barely told me anything,” Priya encourages, nudging Marisol’s shoulder with her own.

She laughs again, “Alright, okay. His name is James and he’s in law, too. He’s really nice and all that, and I kind of hated him at first but, y’know, here we are,” she forces an amused smile. She really did hate him back then.

“Is he coming tonight?” Hannah leans forward, eager to learn. That first day in the Villa may have been ten years ago, with countless triumphs and failures scattered throughout the decade, but Hannah’s somehow gotten right back to her wide-eyed, excitable self. It’s kind of nice, Marisol decides, that she was able to find herself again.

She smiles gently at the excited redhead, “He didn’t come. He’s still in Portsmouth.”

“Aw, boo,” Lottie jeers. “Should’ve dragged him along,” she sips her drink.

Marisol’s dark hair shifts, glinting in the light with a halo reflecting off her as she shakes her head, “He had some work to do this weekend and he hates putting it off.”

Lottie’s features shift in sympathy, “Don’t tell me you just found a male you, Marisol.”

She laughs again, already feeling like she’s laughed more since she got here than in months, maybe years. She just works too much, but she loves it, she rationalises. “Okay, we’re a little similar, but it’s not that bad.”

Lottie doesn’t appear convinced, but she doesn’t get the chance to comment further, “What did I miss?” Shannon steps up to the group with a smile, a drink already in her hand.

“Marisol was just telling us about her fiancé,” Lottie winks to the woman in question, urging her to spill.

“Not that much to say, honestly, we’re pretty basic,” she shrugs her shoulders and sips her drink.

“I’m sure Marisol’s life is plenty eventful,” Hannah grins at her, Lottie pulling her arm from Hannah’s to wrap it around her waist. Hannah beams at her, leaning into her side happily, now 31 but as bright-eyed and content as 21 year old Hannah. Marisol really likes seeing her like that; Lottie’s good for her.

Shannon clears her throat, “Well, if anyone ever wants a vacation, I’m still playing and can hook you guys up with a break,” she looks around the group, earnestly meeting everyone’s eyes.

“I might have to take you up on that offer,” Priya sighs, Marisol placing a hand on her arm in concern. She smiles, “Kids are just… so exhausting,” her eyes are wide as she shakes her head in faux exasperation.

Chelsea bounces on her toes excitedly, “Ohmigod, ohmigod, ohmigod, how is the little guy?!” She looks like she might explode from cuteness that isn’t even in front of her.

Priya pats her shoulder to try and calm her, “Ri’s doing well. Not much going on outside of daycare. Benny’s been home with him since last night so I could come, and I really hope they haven’t burnt the house down.”

Laughter ripples through the group, but Chelsea seems oblivious to it, “Do you have pictures?!” she claps her hands eagerly.

Priya laughs and pulls out her phone, “Of course!” She pulls up her camera roll, Chelsea leaning over her shoulder to watch her flick through pictures, squealing every few seconds.

“So the engagement’s new, right?” Shannon addresses Marisol as she takes a drink.

Marisol hurries to swallow, “Oh, yeah! Uh, two? No, three months ago he asked,” she nods.

“What’s the ring look like?” Shannon prompts. Marisol obliges, lifting her hand to show her the massive diamond that she thinks cost too much. Shannon nods approvingly, “Nice. Expensive. He must make bank,” she smirks, popping her eyebrows.

Marisol laughs once again, a sound that feels oddly unfamiliar nowadays, “Lawyer, remember?”

Shannon whoops, “Smart woman.” Marisol chuckles, sipping her drink as a shout rips her eardrums.

“Hope!” Priya shouts, tearing the group from their smaller clusters as she embraces the woman, a well dressed man beside her as she laughs in Priya’s ear, the others looking on curiously.

Hannah stiffens next to Lottie, glancing between the two nervously, “Um, don’t you guys, uh, hate each other?” she asks cautiously.

Priya laughs, Hope chuckling lightly with her, “Not anymore!” Priya grins when her breath is caught, “We’re both bad bitches, and bad bitches gotta stick together!” she throws her arm over Hope’s shoulders to emphasise their newfound camaraderie.

She rolls her eyes, but doesn’t pull away, “She’s just a gold digger.”

“Does this mean you’re finally on board with being my sugar mama? I swear it’s worth your while,” Priya winks, bumping her hip into Hope’s. “I won’t even say anything about Isaiah,” she winks at Hope’s husband, too, who appears to be properly confused.

Hope shakes her head at Priya with an amused smile on her lips, exhaling through her nose. She glances over to her husband, slipping her hand into his larger one until he relaxes at her side.

“Hey, if Hope won’t treat you right, I’ll happily volunteer,” Shannon joins, smiling at the antics.

Priya removes her arm from Hope’s shoulder quickly, skipping across the gathered circle to loop her arm in Shannon’s, “I’ll take it!” Shannon laughs, throwing her head back as the women dissolve into tipsy giggles, Isaiah stilled at Hope’s side.

Another shout disrupts the group, “Dahlia!” Chelsea shrieks like a banshee, already sprinting for the woman in question, tackling her in the tightest hug she can. Dahlia hugs her back eagerly, lifting Chelsea off the ground with a laugh and swings the blonde around lightly, Chelsea giggling into her shoulder as she does. She sets her down, Chelsea immediately dragging her over to the gathered crowd by the bar, ignoring the trepidation sparking in Dahlia as she gently resists.

Marisol watches the entire interaction, dread settling in her stomach, swirling and mashing her insides as panic explodes in Dahlia’s eyes as she draws nearer and nearer. Chelsea tugs her to a stop beside Priya, the older woman immediately wrapping her in another hug.

She moves through the group, sharing greetings with Hannah, Lottie, Shannon, Hope, even Isaiah, before skipping over Marisol with a nervous glance. She lands beside Chelsea again and accepts a drink from her, sipping it as the group restarts. Marisol can tell that the conversation’s continued, but she doesn’t hear any of the words, all she can hear is her heartbeat pounding against her eardrums like fists on the bars of a jail cell. She can see their lips moving whenever she glances at them, can see them laughing and smiling, even Isaiah chuckling along to a few jokes.

But Marisol doesn’t know what they’re laughing and smiling at, doesn’t understand what could be funny right now, with Dahlia right there. Dahlia right there smiling along, draining her drink, answering questions that Lottie the Interrogator proposes. Dahlia right there, the lights playing off her hair and her green eyes crinkling as Chelsea says something to her. Dahlia right there, with the group’s recent addition of Lucas’s arm slung around her shoulders affectionately.

Ugh, Marisol feels gross, like black sludge is filling her veins and lungs, weighing her down as she turns in a daze, walking across the venue to the washroom. They’re at the start of a long hallway, but Marisol doesn’t step into the women’s room. She keeps walking down the hallway until there’s a bend, and she follows it, turning the corner and hitting an exit door, red letters indicating as such.

She throws it open and retreats into the cool night, walking a few steps away and slumps against the brick wall as her head falls back to meet it. Dahlia had cheated and broken her heart, yet Marisol can tell that she still holds a few of the shards. Which is exactly why Marisol shouldn’t have come. This was stupid, this was a mistake. She could have stayed home and just made dinner with James and watched a movie, why did she have to come? Why couldn’t she do something simple and basic, like she has for a decade now? Why did she have to submit herself to this?

She huffs, drags a hand through her hazelnut locks, and stands straight, intent on removing the sludge from her system. She turns to the door and tugs on the handle, but it doesn’t budge, and she feels frustrated tears building behind her eyes as she collapses against the wall again, sinking to the ground this time. She stares into the dark night, a few street lights lighting up the alley she’s found herself in. She’s angry and frustrated with every decision she’s ever made, every step she’s ever taken, every bit of progress she’s ever accomplished.

She spins her ridiculously sized engagement ring on her finger, fidgeting and slipping it on and off as she maps out an escape from this house of horrors. She should just call a cab and go back to her hotel, pack her bag and find a train to Portsmouth; she can sleep at the station if she needs to.

‘You doing okay out here?’ shatters her bubble, freezes her in place, short circuits her nervous system as that familiar voice she somehow hasn’t forgotten in a decade rings in her ears, an alarm telling her to run as far and as fast as she can.

“Y - Yeah,” she stammers. “I’m okay,” she dips her head, circles her outrageous ring on her finger, and stares at the pavement beneath her as footsteps draw near.

Dahlia stops beside her along the wall, eyes focused on the part of the street they can see from their position as she faces forward, “You sure? You kinda, um, bolted. But er - you know what?” she steps away from Marisol, backing away carefully, “I’m gonna leave you alone.”

Marisol finally glances at her, finding Dahlia retreating back to the reunion that she’s now locked out of, “Why?” she utters without realising, somehow hurt by the instantaneous change in Dahlia.

She seems taken aback by the question, “Um, It’s really not my place…” she backs away further, fingers tapping her hand held in front of her chest.

“Why not?” Marisol pursues, intent on hearing her say it, hearing her say it’s her fault, not Marisol’s. Maybe if she says what she did again, Marisol can finally forget it, let Dahlia keep those shards and move on. Yeah, that’ll fix things, won’t it?

Dahlia halts in her tracks, “I -” she glances to the ground beneath her heels, “Well, I cheated and we broke up and it’s not my place to be in my ex’s business, so…” she states matter-of-factly, that bluntness that got her in so much trouble in the Villa shining through.

Marisol doesn’t feel better hearing her say it, she doesn’t feel like she got closure, she doesn’t feel content and pleased, it just feels like those shards are bigger than she thought, more than a few scraps, closer to a heavy chunk than tiny crumbs, a gaping whole in her chest. All right, new plan. “We don’t have to be exes, right? Can’t we be friends or something?” Marisol proposes. Nothing else has worked, time to take a risk, she internally reasons.

Hopeful green eyes land on Marisol’s, “Can we? Do you want to be? Can we?” she takes a step forward, eyes boring into Marisol’s as they unconsciously plead for the affirmative.

“Yeah,” Marisol shrugs and shifts her weight, “Why not? We’ve both grown and it’s been a long time. Might as well bury the hatchet.”

Dahlia nods ferociously, “Yeah. Yeah,” she forces her excitement down, “Might as well.” She sinks to the pavement beside Marisol, knees bent as she sits on her heels, hands still clasped together.

“So… what have you been up to?” Marisol asks awkwardly, spinning her ring incessantly.

Dahlia laughs, the tension in her shoulders disappearing as Marisol’s heart lightens at the melody, “Not much, honestly. I think I’m kind of on a date with Lucas, but he met up with Henrik earlier and I had to come alone,” she frowns, her lips twisting.

Marisol’s head falls back to the brick behind her, “Sounds like they’re on a date instead.”

“...Yeah.”

Marisol glances over to her, finding her features fraught and elects to correct that, “What about your job? Are you still at the foundation?”

She beams, “Yep! You’re looking at the Director of Finance!” she announces proudly, and Marisol can’t help but smile.

“I thought you hated maths.”

“I do. But I don’t hate being the boss,” she winks with a grin.

Marisol laughs, “Fair enough. So you’re still in Sheffield, then?”

Dahlia nods again, “Yeah. Hard to leave, y’know? And I don’t really have anywhere else to go.”

“Would you? If you had somewhere to go, I mean.”

Her brow furrows as she considers, “I’d need a good reason.”

“What counts as a good reason?” Marisol presses.

“A good person.”

Marisol’s suddenly aware of just how close they’ve gotten in such a short time, just how little space is between them as Dahlia leans against the wall, meeting Marisol’s coffee eyes with her own sparkling emeralds. Marisol’s breath hitches as the distance seems to be getting smaller and smaller, those emeralds getting closer and closer. And Marisol knows she should pull back, knows those precious gems need to be as far from her as possible, but she just can’t.

Their lips brush, tender and sweet, a shiver running through Marisol at the contact. Marisol’s hand rises to cup her cheek, and she can feel her diamond ring on her finger, brushing the skin beneath her hand, but she doesn’t care about it, not in this moment.

Dahlia pulls away quickly, eyes flicking open as she immediately begins freaking out, “Oh god, I’m doing it again, oh god, oh god,” she groans, her face buried in her hands as she pulls away, stumbling to her feet to put as much cold space as possible between herself and Marisol.

Speaking of, Marisol’s absolutely panicking, eyes bugged out of her head as she reaches for Dahlia, struggling to her feet as well, “What? What’s wrong? What’s happening?” Her hand lands on Dahlia’s shoulder, but the other woman pulls away even farther, retreating towards the shadows of the alley.

“I can’t -” her breathing’s turned shallow as she rubs her temples, turning away and slowly sinking back to her knees, “I can’t - keep doing this. I - I did it in the Villa and I’m doing it now and it’s not fair and it always hurts and I’m supposed to be with him but he’s not even with me and it’s you but this is so messy and oh god, it’s happening again and it’s going to mess everything up again but - but this is different, right? But oh god, it’s not, it’s so not, it’s all the same again and I can’t do this and I’m so sorry,” her words trail off as she sucks in her first breath since she started rambling.

“Hey. Dahls,” Marisol urges softly, working to pull Dahlia’s gaze on her as she draws nearer, “Calm down, okay? Calm down.”

Dahlia shakes her head, “No. No, I can’t, I keep doing this, I’m always ruining things and I hate it and you hate me and I’m so sorry, and oh god,” she rasps a heavy breath, her back quivering with it.

“I don’t hate you,” Marisol finally reaches her and squeezes her shoulder, “I’ve never hated you. I don’t think I ever could,” Marisol murmurs, settling back beside a panicked Dahlia as calmly as she can, her own anxiety still skyrocketing.

Her eyes find Marisol’s coffee ones, earnest with a war within them, “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have done that I - you’re engaged. I’m so sorry, that was so stupid and you -”

Marisol cuts her off with a wave of her hand, “I did it as much as you,” she reasons, Dahlia quieting at her words.

Her eyes drop to the ground, piercing into the dark pavement, the smallest amount of street lights reaching them, “Why’d you do it? I - I know I have a history of kissing people I shouldn’t, but… But you’re engaged,” she emphasises the word every time, like she still can’t believe it to be true.

Marisol glances to the silver on her ring finger, glinting in the low light, the egregious stone that James thought would impress her sparkling, somehow reminiscent of the emeralds beside her. “I don’t know. I just… it felt right, I guess. It made sense.”

Dahlia’s quiet for a long time, her index finger circling a point on her thigh as she thinks. “Does it feel right… right now?” she finally asks.

Now Marisol pauses, considering the question, considering her answer, considering the fallout, considering the buildup, considering anything and everything. “Yes.”

Dahlia nods slowly, her mind audibly whirring, “Does James feel right?”

Marisol sighs, her head dipping low and settling in her hands, face in her palms. Gentle fingers scratch along her scalp and tucks loose locks of hair behind her ears without prompting or hesitation. And that’s why it feels right. Because Dahlia never has to force herself to be kind and affectionate and patient, she just is, even if she gets caught up in her emotions, too. She doesn’t fight with Marisol for hours and hours until one of them gives up and leaves. She doesn’t set ultimatums and strict boundaries. She doesn’t tell white lies to avoid making things worse, she just accepts the consequences. She doesn’t get frustrated when Marisol drags up the past, because odds are she never forgot it in the first place.

She let Marisol be Marisol, let her take her time, let Marisol hurt her sometimes, a cut on her hand as opposed to breaking every bone in Marisol’s. She’s honest to a fault, she’s obnoxiously self-aware and apologetic, she even sometimes gave Marisol too much space. But Marisol likes all those things about her. She likes that she didn’t have to guess or sacrifice her freedoms. She just likes Dahlia, good and bad.

Unfortunately, she can’t say the same for James. She hates how much he forces himself to hold her hand or grits his teeth when searching for something to compliment her on, even if she knows he’s trying. She hates how argumentative he is, even if she knows how hypocritical she’s being. She hates how structured everything is with him, how it has to follow his specific schedule, even if she knows it’s hard for him to budge. She hates how red his face gets when she brings up a past fight, even if she knows it’s not in his nature to keep track of every squabble.

She doesn’t hate him, not by a long shot. She loves him, she really does, she just hates some things about him. She can’t bring herself to like everything about him, the good and the bad. She can’t bring herself to love his faults, not the same way she adored Dahlia’s without any effort.

“Sometimes,” she answers truthfully, the word stinging her mouth as it spills off her tongue.

Dahlia nods slowly, hand retracting and going back to tracing an invisible point on her thigh as Marisol lifts her head, “Um, good luck on the wedding?” she says, unsure of the words as they exit her throat.

And Marisol just gapes at her, gapes at the pained and embarrassed features on her face, watches her brows draw together tighter and tighter, “That’s it? I just, like, said that and you don’t care?!” There’s that anger again, that bubbling, boiling, simmering anger that made Marisol’s throat hurt and tears press against the back of her eyes on the terrace. That anger that was so strong it hurt and festered as she stalked off the roof terrace to hide from her nightmare under the covers. That anger that tore her into pieces until she was a hollow shell of herself, an empty husk letting the world pass her by.

But she won’t let it happen again, she won’t fall apart for years, she won’t chase someone that doesn’t want to be chased, she won’t sacrifice predictable stability for a decade old, few weeks long relationship. She won’t do something stupid and insane and ridiculous. She struggles to her feet, intent on leaving Dahlia behind again, but she can’t help herself from exploding, “Do you not care that I basically said I give more of a shit about you than my fiancé?!”

Now Dahlia’s gaping, staring at Marisol in disbelief, eyes wide and jaw hanging wide open, but she doesn’t form any words, Marisol’s hurt and frustration only growing at her silence. She knows she should just turn and run for her hotel, but she can’t, she can’t ever stop herself when it comes to Dahlia, “Did you ever care?! Did you ever regret it? Did you ever wonder what things would be like if you hadn’t kissed her?! Because I do. I have for ten fucking years, Dahlia,” she hisses, “But if you’ve never, then I’m just going to go.”

She starts to turn away, but before she gets the chance, Dahlia’s hands grab the front of Marisol’s blazer, fisting in the material and jerking her down, crashing their lips together in an explosion of lights and colours, Marisol falling into her with ease.

Dahlia breaks it after an electric moment, Marisol’s body humming with it, “Don’t go,” she sounds so desperate, so scared, so much like she did when she confessed and so much like Marisol felt walking away from the Villa, walking away from her.

“Okay,” Marisol whispers against her lips, two syllables but a thousand promises held within them, a thousand promises for 24 year old Marisol, a thousand promises she shouldn’t be making for her 34 year old self.

Dahlia nods, Marisol scooting closer and letting Dahlia’s head fall to her shoulder, an arm snaking around her back. After a long moment, Dahlia sniffles, “I’m so sorry. I’m so, so sorry, I just didn’t think you meant it like that and - and -” she hiccups and sniffles some more, “I never should have - I just got caught up in it all then and she was being so nice, and just - I’m so sorry,” she repeats, head dipping down and fingers fidgeting her lap.

Marisol’s hand reaches out, gently grasping her twitching fingers to still them, “Do you regret it?” It’s the one question she’s never stopped asking, and the one she most desperately needs an answer for.

“More than anything,” Dahlia answers without hesitation, eyes looking up to pour into Marisol’s coffee abysses.

“Then we’re on the same page,” Marisol smiles softly, the pad of her thumb gently brushing Dahlia’s knuckles encouragingly, comfortingly.

They sit there, frozen as the reunion carries on inside, the faint sounds of it floating to them as they sit together, tucked away from the action. At some point Dahlia’s arm wraps around her waist and Marisol falls into her. At some point Marisol starts telling Dahlia everything she’s been up to recently. At some point Dahlia’s fingers slip into Marisol’s hair, gently slipping through the tresses. At some point Dahlia laughs at something Marisol said. At some point Marisol laughs at something Dahlia said.

But the entire time, it feels right. It feels like they didn’t lose ten whole years, like nothing ever occurred and they’re still in the Villa, awaiting a text or a challenge or the explosion of some petty drama, hidden away on a daybed. It feels like Marisol’s woken up in Majorca again, curled up beside Dahlia, listening to her soft breathing. It feels like she hasn’t been chasing happiness for an entire decade, an entire decade where she almost found it, she really did. But it’s just not the same in some sick, twisted, horrifying and heartbreaking way.

Years with James have never felt as natural as those few weeks with Dahlia, and Marisol’s always hated that. She’s always hated how fixated she was on Dahlia, how long it took her to get over her when she’d never cared that much before. She’s always hated how weird everything felt when she started dating again, how nothing went as smooth in real life as it did in the disastrous Villa. She’s hated how much she romanticised Dahlia and the idea of her, making her ethereal and perfect in her mind, even if she always embraced her flaws. She’s hated the tilted perception she’s had since the words ‘kissed,’ ‘Elisa,’ and ‘I’ were strung into a sentence from Dahlia’s mouth.

And, most of all, she’s hated how she never got to find out what could have been, where they could have ended up, how things would be different with her. She’s never guessed with James, it’s always been black and white, laid out in front of her with him. They’ll date a while, he’ll propose, she’ll plan the wedding, she won’t want kids and maybe he’ll convince her because he wants a cheesy nuclear family to fill a big house and a backyard with a picket fence with.

But Dahlia’s a wild card, always has been. Who knows when they’d say the ‘l’ word, who knows when they’d move in together, who knows when she’d propose, if at all, who knows what a wedding would look like, who knows what kind of family they’d create, who knows where they’d live, who knows what would happen? It’s a mystery of what could have been, thousands of possibilities that Marisol would have a real say in, not just be pulled along for the ride.

A buzz rings from Dahlia’s bag and she pulls it into her lap, rummaging around for her phone. She yanks it out and scans her screen quickly, Marisol glancing over her shoulder to read it, ‘Did you ever find her?’ printed on the screen, Chelsea’s name above it.

“We should go,” Dahlia murmurs, retracting her body from Marisol and tossing her phone back in her bag.

Marisol pushes herself to her feet and offers her hands, Dahlia taking them with a grin and letting Marisol pull her to her feet, leaning into her as she steadies herself. She turns to her dress, brushing herself off and pulling at the fabric before turning back to Marisol, who’s been staring at her the whole time.

She has two options here. Two options with vastly different outcomes, two outcomes with countless consequences, countless possibilities, some significantly better than others, some more manageable than others, some more worth it than others.

Marisol pulls off her engagement ring and stuffs it in her pocket, taking Dahlia’s hand in hers and interlocking their fingers as she meets shimmering eyes, watching the way the light from the street plays in them, a million emotions shining within their colourful, precious emerald swirls. Dahlia swallows thickly, averting her gaze as she squeezes Marisol’s hand in hers, thumb brushing knuckles lightly.

Marisol has made her decision, selected her option, picked her outcome, and readied herself for the countless consequences and possibilities. Accepted the better option in her mind and has begun preparing herself for the least manageable, but no doubt the most worthwhile outcome.

Maybe it took ten years, countless tears, and crippling, debilitating heartache, but they’re back on track. They’ve got another shot at this, at the perfect dream that they’ve never been able to forget, not even when it became a horrific nightmare. But ten years later, the wounds have mostly healed, turned to unassuming scar tissue to be covered with the tattoos of new memories, happy memories that stain the skin for so much longer, pieces of art that last an eternity, that last so much longer than a mere ten years.

#litg marisol #litg fanfic #i swear im not intentionally stealing other peoples ideas #these hcs are just so fucking good #and i hate rhannah so we fixed that lmao #tyl

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snesdudes · 4 years

Text

NEVER LET ME GO

Pairing: Henrik x MC

Prompt: Henrik switched. You didn’t. That wasn’t what he expected, and you don’t understand what happened to turn his head, but you’re gonna find out.

After writing Lucas’, I had to write it as well for our sweet mountain boy. Both of them were out of character when they face MC after switching to Blake, and we all know Henrik would be kicking himself for it.

“I’m just saying you’re more into it than she is.”

A long sigh escaped through Henrik’s lips as Blake’s words settled down on his chest. He had been having some doubts since they got the video message. At least three guys were grafting on you, hard, and the sight of you whispering in the ear of one of them, making him blush hard, made his heart feel heavy. You had that skill with him, as well, a few words were enough to make his cheeks flush red, but he was fool enough to think that was something you only wanted to do to him.

Blake moved a little closer, watching him impatiently, waiting to see the effect of her words. “I shouldn’t tell you anything about the things I saw before getting here…” She muttered, and that did surely get Henrik’s attention. His face turned to her, alarmed.

“What do you mean?”

Henrik got to the Villa planning to flirt with gorgeous girls, chill by the pool, make friends and have a laugh. You certainly caught his eye even before he arrived, but Lucas was quite determined to get you, so he chose to play it cool and get to know the rest of the girls.

Somehow, he always ended up looking at you. He always ended up smiling at you. And his heart hammered so fast when he realized that, every time he looked at you, you were looking at him. Every time he smiled at you, you grinned back.

When you kissed him in the Kiss & Tell challenge, he knew he was screwed. And when you chose him for your date, and coupled up with him that very same day, he felt adrenaline rush through his veins in a way he had never experienced before – and, for him, that was something else.

He thought you were it. What he had been looking for. The big adventure of his life.

That, until he saw that video, his hopes cracking. He was already so low he couldn’t even see the intentions of the woman sitting beside him, thinking she was being a mate and helping him.

“Well…” Blake continued, a manicured hand resting on top of his forearm. “She isn’t set on you. She’s kind of waiting for someone better to show up.”

Henrik blinked. “S-someone better… better than me?”

“She had a conversation with Priya after you coupled up, and she said you were kinda cute, but surely not her endgame.” Blake lied, thankful that Shannon wasn’t around to call her bluff. “Her exact words were ‘he’s gonna be good fun until the right one appears’. I’m sorry to tell you this, babe. But you’re such a nice person, you deserve to know the truth.”

Henrik turned his face away from her as he fought back tears. In a moment where he was thinking straight, he would have realized those words wouldn’t come out of your mouth. But his head was spinning and his heart breaking and that evening you would come back to the Villa with the right one by your side and he would have to watch you with someone else and… and…

“Thank you, Blake… You deserve to stay here.”

The atmosphere was kind of frosty as the boys waited outside the Villa. Shannon and Rahim talked lightheartedly with Noah, Bobby and Gary were not participating. Neither was Henrik, his gazed fixed on the ground as he tried to steady his heartbeat.

“She’s gonna be devastated.” Bobby said, loud enough to make everybody stop talking. “You realize that, right? That you’re gonna walk in there and hurt her?”

It took a moment for Henrik to realize he was talking to him. His jaw dropped slightly.

“Are you serious? She’s so obviously going to switch.” Blake spoke before he could.

“We aren’t talking to you.” Gary cut in, and Henrik’s eyebrows shot up, surprised by his friend’s tone, Blake a little taken aback. “You’ve obviously taken advantage of a bad moment for him.” Gary pointed at Henrik. “I get you want to stay in the Villa. And I don’t know what you’ve done to cause this…”

“But you will regret it.” Bobby continued, Gary nodding along. “Both of you, actually.”

Henrik resumed his former activity of staring a point in the ground. Gary sighed loudly, and Blake squeezed his hand. When did she take his hand?

You knew you were fucked when you met Gary’s eyes. The blond was pretty much an open book, and he looked at you as if he couldn’t wait to give you one of his cuddles. He spoke to Chelsea and that didn’t help to make him feel better, but you couldn’t help but grab his wrist and look into your friend’s eyes.

“What’s wrong?” You squeaked, searching for an answer in his gaze. He didn’t say anything, and Bobby made his entrance.

After talking with Marisol, he gave your shoulder a light squeeze. You already felt like crying. Why would the guys be so worried about you if it weren’t because Henrik had dumped you? You looked at them with panic.

“Whatever happens, we got your back.” Bobby nodded.

“Oh, sugar.” Priya surrounded your shoulders with an arm and squeezed tightly, sensing the same tension. You circled an arm around her waist for support as you looked at the entrance, fighting back tears.

Henrik made his way towards the firepit and saw you standing with another person by your side. He quickly looked away, to the other girls. So, I did the right thing. He cleared his throat to introduce Blake to the group, and when he finished his sentence, his eyes found their way back to you… And saw the person standing by your trembling figure, holding you, was Priya.

What the… No no no no… NO!

Blake left his side to air kiss you on both cheeks and he just stood there, gobsmacked. Everyone was silent, the only noise was Blake’s voice and you soft sniffing. Chelsea chirped in, trying to break away the tension with an unfortunate comment.

“Don’t compare me to her –“ Blake started, but Henrik grabbed her arm and she stopped speaking.

“What’s going on?” He demanded, his voice a little louder than he intended. He cleared his throat. “We… we should talk privately.”

Blake nodded, obviously shocked.

“Is that really everything you’re gonna say?!” The voice was broken, but firm. He turned around to look at you.

You couldn’t believe how this night had gone. You had been so excited to see him again, and now, not only he had switched, but he hadn’t said a word to you yet. Henrik wasn’t cold. He wasn’t insensible, he was open and honest and genuine.

Your gazes locked and he let Blake go, striding towards you, only to be met by a hand pushing against his chest. “Nah.” Lottie was in front of you, blocking him. “You’ve done enough. Talk to your little weather reporter, calm down and then we’ll let you talk with her. She deserves some space after what you’ve done.”

He wanted to tell Lottie to fuck off, but whatever he looked he met judging gazes. They were around you and he couldn’t see you anymore. Only when he looked over Priya’s shoulder he saw your silhouette jogging, far from the firepit already, making your way into the Villa.

You had taken a shower to clear your thoughts and slipped into more comfortable clothes. The warm water had washed away your tears and your sobs couldn’t be heard while you were there. When you stepped out, you felt slightly calmer. You brushed your hair and looked at your reflection in the mirror – you looked exhausted. But the night hadn’t ended yet, even if you were already wearing your #cherrygate pj’s.

You walked out of the bathroom and found Priya and Chelsea waiting for you.

“Hey, you- oonf!” The both of them pulled you into a crashing hug that caught you by surprise.

“Babes! How are you feeling? What do you need? You want some bubbly? Maybe a tea? When I’m sad I always go and get my nails done. You want me to paint your nails? Is that what you want? I can totally do that!”

A giggle left your lips at Chelsea’s blabber and you hugged them back, gratefully. Both of them returned the hug and their hands rubbed your back soothingly.

“I’m fine, girls.” You sighed. “I could do with some bubbly, though.”

Chelsea squealed with delight and they led you to the dressing room, where a bottle of champagne and three glasses were waiting for you. Chelsea served the drinks as the three of you sat down.

“Lottie’s downstairs getting to know the new girls.” Priya explained, knowing it was odd that she wasn’t here to talk shit about Henrik.

“I just don’t understand it.” You murmured, drowning your broken voice in a sip. The bubbles made you feel better. “I thought we had something real, you know? I can’t believe he’s had his head turned in jus a few days. And the way he acted in the firepit…”

“Oh, oh!” Chelsea raised her hand. “I spoke with Gary, I wanted to be ready if we had a girls’ council.”

You stared at her expectantly while she beamed at you. “…and?”

“Oh, right. Well, he said Henrik had been worried since they got the video message, similar to the one we got from them. He seemed low and spent a lot of time by himself, but yesterday he told Rahim he wasn’t going to switch. But this morning Blake took him to the roof terrace to speak and he seemed so upset later. That’s what Gary said. And then at the ceremony he switched! Everyone was shook!”

You frowned, still not understanding. “What does that mean? Did something happen between them that made him change his mind? But then, why was he so upset?”

Priya let out a groan. “Babe, I spoke to Henrik. Well, Henrik spoke to me, actually.”

“What?!”

“I know what happened.”

The moment you stepped into the roof terrace, a pair of arms flung around you and hugged you tightly, your face squished against Henrik’s chest strongly, knocking the air out of you.

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry, I’m sorry. You have to believe me! It was all a fucked-up, stupid mistake, I am...”

“Can’t… breathe…” You murmured. Henrik took a step away from you, his hands on your shoulders, as you took a deep breath. You looked at his face, and he looked just as exhausted as you did. His hand found your cheek, brushing a strand of hair away, his touch lingering on your skin. “We aren’t really good at this, are we?” You said, your fingertips brushing on the bags under his eyes.

He took your hand in his and led you to sit down.

“I talked to Priya.” He said. “Blake said something, and I…”

“I know.”

“I wasn’t going to switch, but she…”

“I know.”

He frowned. “You do?”

He looked clueless, and terribly cute. You smiled despite the fact that you were still hurt.

“When will you accept that I’m always a step ahead?” The kindness on your voice made him visibly relax. “Priya told me Blake manipulated you to make you think I was playing you. And Chelsea told me you were already feeling bad about the video you guys got. We got a similar one. So, I understand.” Henrik grinned, but you pursed your lips. “Still… You chose to believe a fixed video and a snake who only wanted to get into the Villa. Instead of believing in me and everything we’ve said, all the moments we shared.” Your voice was stern, and his shoulders dropped. “You really believed that I was playing with you? All those times we kissed, the conversations we had, our night in the Hideaway? You really believed all of that was a lie? That I would do that to you?”

There was a moment of silence. Your voice, although harsh, wasn’t trembling anymore and it wasn’t loud. And all throughout your speech, you never let go of his hand, your thumb tracing circles on his skin. He let everything sink in. This was one of the toughest days of his life. And although he was relieved to see you wanted him, and everything Blake said was a lie, he had now to face the fact that, because of his own actions, he might lose you.

You waited patiently for him to speak. His blond hair fell upon both sides of his face, and you could see a crimson hue reaching his cheeks as he stayed silent. He was ashamed.

“You’re right. I should’ve been more confident, and trust you with everything I had. You never gave me a reason to doubt about your feelings or your loyalty. I was just… a bit of a mess while you were away. And everything Blake said suddenly made sense. It’s just… Too good, you know?”

You stared at him with surprise. “What about this is good at all?” You asked, but he shook his head. He let go of your hand and placed both of his at the sides of your face.

“We are just too good. We’ve known each other for like two weeks. And it already feels as one of the best relationships I’ve had? It made sense that I was just seeing what I wanted to see, that I was getting excited over something that wasn’t really as good as it seemed to me. Because when I think about it, really think about it, I can see it doesn’t make any sense to already feel like this.”

You smiled at him sweetly.

“Oh, honey. The thing is, it doesn’t need to make any sense.” You took his hands from your face and intertwined your fingers with his. “I did have a conversation with Priya the morning after we coupled up.” Henrik cocked his head, curious, and he reminded you of a puppy. Your smile grew wider. “I told her I was a bit scared after our night together. We had just met each other a few days before and all my eggs were in your basket… Like you, I wasn’t sure if it was a good signal that I was feeling… so close to you, so early.”

Henrik gulped. “What did Priya say?”

You mimicked Priya’s expressions and accent as you said. “Sugar, let go and enjoy the ride.” You both giggled together, the burden on your chests feeling lighter. “That’s what I’ve been doing.”

“I guess we should’ve talked this out before.”

“Well, we didn’t know about Casa Amor.” You shrugged. You moved closer to him and rested your head on his shoulder, Henrik quickly wrapping an arm around you. You could her chatter around the Villa, voices and some laughs, and for a moment it was as if nothing had happened. “It’s so weird to think you’re coupled up with someone else.”

“Tell me about it.” Henrik groaned, resting his cheek against the top of your head. “We could sleep together on the daybeds.”

“I was thinking about switching her shampoo for depilatory cream, but your idea sounds good too.” You smiled up at him, and he threw his head back in laughter.

When he recovered, he sighed, and looked back at you, only to find you inches away from his face, your sweet breath hitting his lips in a way it always made his heart flip.

“Can I… Can I kiss you?” He whispered, his voice a little hoarse.

“You little dork.” You grinned. “You don’t need to ask. You’re still my one and only.”

Your lips met softly under the moonlight; his brow furrowed as he felt a knot in his throat. He had believed he would never kiss you again, and now he felt your arms around his neck, your tongue brushing against his lips, demanding to deepen the kiss, he felt so lucky it was almost unbearable.

You kissed the tip of his nose, your thumb brushing one of his tears away, murmuring soothing words as your lips met again, melting into each other as he held you close, silently promising to never let you go.

#i think henrik would be quite easy to manipulate if he's not feeling all right #he would be slightly more chill than lucas after watching the video tho #but the right words would make him doubt #while lucas would be a total mess #but they both would be SO SORRY #litg henrik #love island the game henrik #henrik x mc #love island the game #litg #litg priya #litg chelsea

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solllaris · 5 years

Text

i can’t keep from loving you: noah [litg]

pairing: noah x my female!oc

summary: the time spent in the villa is rapidly dwindling and continuously watching the man collins is inevitably falling for with another woman has finally caused the cracks in her heart to give way and crumble and there is absolutely nothing she can do to stop it.

warnings: angst?, a lil fluff, some steamy kisses (whoops)

wc: 2.8k+

a/n: just a warning that i kinda suck at writing angst and arguments so i’m genuinely sorry if this is terrible. this was my first time writing noah, obviously, and i really tried to do his character justice so i’m sorry if you think he’s out of character at times. he’s a tough one to write, honestly, but i had a ton of fun! i hope you guys like it as much as i liked writing it.

(side note: the title is a song by andrew james bc i love it so much lol. it’s not necessarily based off the lyrics; i just liked the title.)

masterlist // taglist

Never before had Collins experienced such a gut-wrenching ache in her chest until she was forced into watching the man of her dreams cradle and hum sweet-nothings to another woman. It was etched into the insides of her eyelids and each time she squeezed her baby blues shut she could vividly picture the most minuscule of details from earlier that day; she remembered the paths his fingertips traced along the length of her friend’s spine, the way his massive hands cupped her jaw with the tenderest of care, how his honey colored irises melted into a softer caramel color as he looked down at her clinging to his strong body.

A thrumming throb pulsated through the beating organ in her chest and the ginger-haired girl instinctively clutched her half-empty glass of sangria tighter. Shaky fingers danced over the area above her heart, rubbing gently with a tiny whimper as if a simple touch would rid herself of the pain she felt. Hot pools of tears gathered in the lower rims of her eyes and a stuttered breath was all it took for them to plummet down her makeup-covered cheeks, leaving messy trails in their wake and destroying the cosmetics she had worked hard to apply.

Tucking her knees even tighter to her chest in the hopes of shielding her wet face, Collins sunk further into the plush daybed and tried not to think about how utterly alone she truly felt. It was an impossible feat for the extremely sensitive girl and once the thought wriggled its way into the forefront of her mind it brought with it a fresh wave of tears to coat her face and lips in salt. As furiously as she attempted to fight her emotions, they had finally won and she allowed her head to bow forward until her forehead pressed against her bare knees and her small frame shook with the force of her cries.

Pursuing Noah had jeopardized multiple friendships that Collins had created with the girls and the only friends she felt that she had remaining lied with the boys. No, her relationships with each girl wasn’t completely in tarnishes, but it seemed that not one of them supported her in her feelings for the tall librarian. The one girl she had come to confide in, the one that understood and encouraged her, had been sent packing and left the Villa with necks craned to watch her go just as she had come. With Priya gone, Collins had found comfort in the sweet, sweet boys she had met weeks ago on the lawn and although they were incredible, she craved the company of other girls. Boys were programmed differently and sometimes all she wanted was the familiarity of giggling over drinks and whispered gossip.

A soft pattering of feet jolted Collins back down to her miserable reality and with a newfound haste she swiped the tears away and took a long sip of her sangria to act as if she hadn’t been sobbing miserably moments before. However, when her gaze fell onto the tan-skinned boy she’d been crying over the poor girl knew he’d be able to see straight through her little façade. Suddenly the floating fruits in her glass became very fascinating and as she felt him sit near her feet, she channeled all her remaining energy into focusing on the lingering sweet taste on her tongue from the combination of wine, brandy, and fruit.

A beat of silence passed and Collins blue irises drank in the way his bare, muscular chest heaved as he sighed heavily. “M’ sorry about earlier,” He murmured and she felt her muscles almost instinctively relax at his low, smooth rasp of a voice. It acted like a warm blanket after an exhausting day. “You didn’t deserve that. You don’t deserve any of this.”

She could feel the intensity with which Noah looked at her, his hot chocolate colored eyes burning straight through her flesh and leaving nothing unseen or untouched. He had always been a stickler for eye contact each time they’d spoken so it shouldn’t have surprised the redhead when his hot palm wrapped around her calf, his digits splaying over her pale skin whilst his thumb stroked small circles over her shin bone. But for some unknown reason she still found herself breathing in sharply and had to coax her lungs to keep functioning.

“Look at me, please,” Noah begged gently with a squeeze to her calf.

Collins despised herself for being so weak when it came to him - how such simple actions and words were her ultimate undoing. She’d do whatever he asked of her as long as he kept touching her the way he was and speaking with the tenderest tone of voice. That instance was no different and she ripped her attention from the tiny bubbles in her drink to look him in the eye.

The circles he traced on her shin halted and she sunk further into the pillows littering the daybed behind her once she saw his expression morphing before her. Noah’s honeyed irises darted over her swollen eyelids, then dipped lower to the salty tracks on her pretty pink cheeks, and finally to her puffy bottom lip where she had furiously bitten down on it to muffle her cries. All it had taken was mere seconds for his entire face to fall and for a look of devastation to wash over his gorgeous features and Collins’ heart throbbed painfully once more.

“I made you cry?” He asked carefully, softly.

Curling her painted toes into the mattress until it was almost painful, she struggled to remain eye contact through the pain reverberating through her chest cavity. “It’s okay.” Collins shrugged and her gaze darted away for a split second as she took a shaky breath. “I needed a good cry anyway.”

The blazing heat wafting from Noah’s palm disappeared from her leg and she missed it after only seconds of being without it. She dug her toes into the sheet beneath her again to refrain from stretching her leg out to press against his warm, bare back and sucked in a deep breath as an attempt to clear her racing thoughts. Collins’ teeth clashed against the glass cup when she practically inhaled a large gulp of her deep red alcoholic beverage and shifted her attention to the gorgeous man sitting beside her.

Noah’s tall, lithe form hunched over, elbows resting on his knees, and tugged on his chocolate brown locks out of frustration. “It’s not okay, Collins,” He growled roughly and sat up straight to meet her gaze with an intensity that made her shy away instinctively.

The ginger-haired girl only transposed her focus elsewhere for a few seconds before she felt - and heard - him shuffle closer until he no longer sat near her feet but close enough to pull her into his arms if he desired. Collins presumed he was simply moving closer with no further intentions, but then his warm palm cupped her jawline and his fingers sunk into her red hair and she swore her heart ceased its beating.

Guiding her face to look at him again, Noah managed a small, sweet smile and Collins melted into his touch despite the scorching ball of anger in her belly that she wanted to spew at him. “It’s not okay, honey,” He hummed quietly and the soft glint in his molten colored eyes made her want to shiver. “I’ve been an absolute div, haven’t I?”

Honey. Honey. Honey.

The sweet, attentive pet name made Collins’ tummy do all sorts of acrobatic routines and she was positively certain her cheeks were coated in a bright red blush. God, all she wanted to do was fall into his strong arms and kiss him without having any restrictions or scandalous secrecy; she wanted to kiss him whenever she yearned to and feel the racing drum of his heart beating out of the space behind his ribs, but she knew that it simply wasn’t possible. Her silly fantasy would never become her reality because the man she was falling in love with was falling for someone else.

Turning away from him abruptly, Noah’s hand dropped and Collins quickly slung her legs over the edge of the daybed and darted towards the kitchen, her glass of sangria sloshing with the haste of her movements. The rampant butterflies in her belly died as soon as they’d come and as she tossed the leftover fruit from her cup to dump the blood red liquid down the sink, a heavy wave of exhaustion settled into her bones. She knew sleep wouldn’t come anytime soon for her that night and it was all because of the tall boy that had followed after her on her heels the entire time.

She rubbed at the spot between her furrowed brows and sighed tiredly. “I’m so tired, Noah,” She began dejectedly. “One minute you’re talking about Hope like she’s the woman you’ll end up marrying and then the next you’re...y-”

“The next I’m what?” Noah interrupted, urging the redhead to finish as he moved in closer to where she leaned back against the counter.

Collins breath caught in her throat when his hands gripped the granite on either side of her body, effectively pinning her against the cabinets. She had to crane her neck upwards to catch his eye before she continued.

“Then the next you’re calling me ‘honey’ and...touching me with that stupid look in your eyes and making me feel like I’m the only woman in the world.” Her voice was shaky, dropping in and out like a receiver with a bad connection, and she felt her nose burn with an onslaught of frustrated tears. Her fists thumped against his exposed pectorals and she shoved forcefully, letting out a helpless cry when he barely moved at all. “Is this a game to you, Noah? What do you want, huh? What do you want fr-”

Noah’s lips captured Collins’ in a heated kiss, effectively cutting her off mid-rant. She had always caught glimpses of an underlying intensity and heat around him with stolen glances radiating unspoken lust, but had never experienced it unadulterated. He devoured her, tugging her tangled tresses to tilt her chin up for better access to her mouth whilst his opposite held her jaw tight enough to keep her exactly where he wanted her. It was hot and possessive and when she submissively parted her lips with a soft whine to accommodate for his tongue, it took every ounce of his willpower to separate from her with a wet smack.

Panting, staggered breaths filled what little space was between them and for a split second Collins allowed herself to revel in Noah’s hips pinning her to the cabinets and his fingers gently pulling at her hair; she selfishly indulged in how her lips tingled and how the taste of a sweet chocolate lingered on her tongue from his own swiping along hers. For a throbbing millisecond all she wanted was to taste that rich chocolate in his mouth again, but the guilty knot in her tummy twisted painfully and that red-hot anger sparked once again.

Collins pushed against his pecs once more and that time Noah obliged, letting her shove him away even though every bone in his body ached to keep touching her. Frustrated tears clouded her vision and his figure blurred before her as an annoyed groan ripped through her throat.

“You can’t just do that, Noah. You can’t just kiss me to make everything better!” She hissed bitterly and angrily swiped at the stupid tears dripping down her face, her body completely betraying her right in front of him. “You and Hope are back together and I don’t want to be your second choice. I don’t deserve that.”

“M’sorry.” Noah scrubbed a hand against the back of his neck and hung his head like a scolded puppy. “I’m just...trying to figure out what I want.”

Her heart clenched agonizingly and the images of Hope wrapped around him earlier in the day flashed before her. She could hardly bear to look at him as she croaked out, “I think it’s pretty clear what you want.”

A panicked twinge passed through his chest, suddenly feeling as though the ginger-haired girl he had blossoming feelings for was ending things before they had a chance to begin. The mere idea had Noah reaching out to glide his knuckles across her highlighted cheekbones, but she jerked away before he could even graze her soft skin and the twinge in his thumping heart amplified tenfold.

“No, honey, I-”

“Don’t call me that!” Collins cried. She knew her angry resolve would weaken at that sweet term of endearment and that was the last thing she wanted.

He sighed and whispered yet another apology, desperately trying to diffuse the growing tension settling in the kitchen. “Collins, please just hear me out, okay?” He begged and her beat of silence spurred him on. “I-I can’t just end it with Hope. You know that.”

“Why not, Noah?” She spat and instantly hated how he flinched at her hostile tone. “What—you just want to have your cake and eat it too, huh?”

“Fuckin’ hell,” He growled, beginning to get irritated with the way she kept putting words into his mouth. “You know I’m not that type of guy.”

“Do I?” She threw back in seconds. “Because since we’ve been in the Villa all you’ve been doing is stringing my feelings along.”

“That was never my intention. You have to understand that.” He took a few tentative steps towards her and seeing no visible reaction to suggest he shouldn’t, he proceeded to move closer until he was close enough to reach out and touch her. He felt his expression softening and as a last attempt, he slid his thumb along the length of her jaw with feather-like pressure and relaxed as she allowed it. “I’m crazy about you and I don’t want to lose you before I’ve even had you.”

“So what are you gonna do?” Collins asked and Noah despised the resigned lilt in her pretty accent. “Go back to Hope and keep acting like everything’s fine? Like you’re happy?”

“I promise I’m going to fix this.” He increased the pressure of his thumb and palm against her jaw, fully cupping the sharp bone. He relished in the sight of her subtly tilting further into him, a tender adoration settling in every crevice of his joints. “Don’t give up on me, honey. Please.”

“Noah…”

It was a meek, broken whisper of protest as the tall boy began to pull her face upwards until their lips ghosted against one another’s. When he breathed another incredibly vulnerable and wrecked plea to “please not give up on him” against her parted mouth, Collins tipped over the edge and pulled him down by the back of his neck. Their lips met roughly and the guttural groan her action pulled from deep in his throat only encouraged her to tilt her head further, deepening their passionate exchange.

Her head spun and before her brain had the chance to catch up, Noah had bowed forward, one of his ridiculously large hands sliding down the expanse of her sides to cup her bum possessively. The warmth of his palm easily bled through the thin material of her pajama shorts and she barely had time to soak up how good it felt for him to touch her like that before he squeezed her bottom appreciatively. Her gasp elicited the sexiest smirk from him and he took her parted lips as an opportunity to glide his tongue against all the places that made her keen.

They broke apart much too soon for Collins’ taste and she whimpered pathetically, pushing up onto the tips of her toes to chase his lips; she really couldn’t handle how swollen they looked, all slick from her tongue’s endeavors.

To Collins’ dismay, Noah chuckled huskily and tilted his chin up which put his lips out of her reach.

“Um, rude?” She scoffed and lightly pushed at his muscular pectorals.

“Have to keep you wanting more, don’t I?” He hummed, his honeyed irises twinkling mischievously and she understood why immediately as a muffled ‘smack!’ met her backside before he pulled away completely.

“Noah!” Collins squealed. She was sure her face was the exact shade of her hair.

He laughed, full-on and boisterous, and the sight was so pretty that it stole the breath from her lungs. Noah reached out to tangle their digits together and tugged her in the direction of the communal bedroom, bubbles of laughter continuing to shake his broad shoulders.

“C’mon, honey. Let’s go to bed.”

They clutched onto one another for as long as they could, only dropping hands once they reached the bedroom and ultimately split ways. Noah was swept away by Hope, his feet having barely crossed the threshold, and Collins drifted towards an empty bed to sleep alone.

Things certainly weren’t perfect for the girl, but as she curled up under toasty sheets, she clung onto his whispered promise and let sleep overtake her with the dreams of her future circling her head.

taglist for noah: @miss-raleigh-carrera @taye-x

#love island the game #love island game #love island #litg #litg noah #litg noah x mc #litg noah x reader #noah x reader #noah x mc #litg noah x female!reader #fusebox #litg fanfiction #litg fanfic #litg noah fanfiction #litg noah fanfic #my writing #qrangr

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alleycat97 · 5 years

Text

Double Trouble Pt. 1

Description: Chaos and turmoil burn deep with the council. The young mortal lover of Kamilah, now power hungry more than ever, always gets her way. With Kamilah by her side, will she get her total domination? What if what you see is not exactly as it appears?

Characters: Kamilah x MC (Amy), Adrian, Priya, Lily, Jax, Autumn(Amy’s identical twin sister)

Genre: Thriller/Mystery

Rating: Mature

Disclaimer: Not my characters:( Also want to thank a very special friend (they know who😉) for helping me with this story. Please enjoy!

...

Words, simple as they appear to be, are vital for human communication. It’s amazing how these words can affect a person. The right choice of words spoken from the wrong person can create a problem. All it takes is one person and one believer for those words to work. Rheya was good at it, Gaius was good at it, Adolf Hitler was good at it. You tell people what they want to hear and you can almost conquer anything. What do all these people have in common? They wanted to conquer the world, and it all began with a simple word. So that’s where our story starts.

It’s amazing what love could do to a person. Kamilah had never felt such a true, pure love before and she would give the entire world to her sweet Amy, ‘the mortal.’ Amy could make her do things no one could imagine. Kamilah Sayeed, the badass CEO vampire queen was whipped for a 23 year old and she couldn’t hide it. It’s dangerous to let your walls down, something the queen never thought she would ever do. It creates weakness and exposes you to threats.

A woman of her stature was very influential in both of her worlds, she ran a risk opening up to Amy but so far everything was good. So far...

...

Amy was a passionate lover, loving her vampire girlfriend was challenging but she took it and ran. Now she has the said woman wrapped around her finger. She was arguably the most famous and hated person in the world for being Kamilah’s girlfriend, a position that didn’t go unnoticed by a familiar face that Amy had left in the past years ago.

Do you ever get that feeling that you’re always being watched? You know the feeling, the chill that runs down your spine that makes you shiver. The way the air feels calm around you even in a mass of people. The way your heart speeds up and you begin to feel uncomfortable? Amy had been feeling that way for the past two weeks everytime she stepped outside. She couldn’t shake the feeling of being stalked but she could never pinpoint the source.

Until it stared her down right in the face. The face that haunted her every dream. A face that was left behind years ago. A face, identical to hers.

“Autumn!?” Amy shrieked in disbelief.

“It’s good to see you sis.” Autumn replied jumping Amy while she was shocked. Wrapping a bag over her head and dragging her down an alley.

Amy had just got off in the early morning, the sun had started to wake but not a sole was stirring, no one to hear her cry or beg for help. Not even the almighty Kamilah.

All Amy could do was feel herself being drug down an alley, the concrete leaving its marks on her back as she kicked against the firm grip of her sister Autumn. All she could hear was a cold, rusty steel door open, and the force of a boot being firmly pressed into her stomach as she was kicked down an old set of stairs before abruptly stopping at the bottom.

“Amy, Amy, my big sister.” Autumn teased as she slowly walked down the stairs. Each cracking board made Amy shake in fear.

“You never change do you? Always a pathetic gold digging whore!” Autumn angrily yelled as she kicked and stomped the body of her older sister, her cry for help fueling her on more.

Autumn stopped her kicking before she killed her sister, figuring she could be useful alive rather than dead, so she drug her body and chained her to a chair.

“How did you get out?” Amy weakly spoke.

“Everything has a weakness stupid. But believe it or not, I was a good girl long enough to be released.”

“What about mom and dad? You won’t get away with this.”

“Yes. Well I thought about that. Don’t go calling and expecting a Merry Christmas. You’ll have to visit the cemetery for that.” Autumn spoke without hesitation.

Amy just sat and cried. Her sister was pure evil and was capable of anything. Beautiful on the outside and legally insane on the inside. She suffered from schizophrenia and had to be locked away in a mental facility to save herself and her family. Now that she was free and openly committing murder, no one was safe.

“What are you going to do with me?” Amy sobbed fearing the worst.

“Nothing for now. But I think I will go visit that pretty girlfriend of yours. Live the life YOU STOLE FROM ME!” Autumn hissed kicking Amy a few more times then stripped Amy naked and dressed in her clothes before making her way to Ahmanet Financial. All Amy could do was pray and cry, sitting exposed to the world naked. New York was screwed and poor Kamilah had no idea what hell was coming.

Autumn walked into the penthouse suite and was floored by the decor, it was extravagant. The suite was huge and overlooked the city that was stirring to life. She stood in awe peering out the window as she watched the sunrise. Something she hasn’t got to see properly in over a decade.

“AMY close the curtains!” Kamilah said ducking behind a column. “Babe you know better than to do that when I’m home.”

Autumn was puzzled but did as told. Even for her, Kamilah’s demand was strange but that thought left her mind when this goddess of a woman stepped out from behind the column.

“Well? Aren’t I going to get my greeting kiss?” Kamilah asked growing impatient.

“Oh right!” Autumn jumped and stepped up to greet Kamilah with a lackluster kiss.

“Are you alright dear? You seem...off.” Kamilah questioned concerned.

“Ummm. No I don’t feel good. I think I need to rest.” Autumn quickly lied seeming to make Kamilah believe her.

“Well then lucky for you, I was just heading to the bedroom.” Kamilah extended her hand which Autumn took and followed the woman to the bedroom enjoying the view as she went.

“Phase 1 is complete” Autumn grinned as she crawled into bed with Kamilah who basically laid on top of her to sleep. Autumn closed her eyes thinking about her future and all the possibilities....

“Amy! Wake up.” Kamilah nudged her lover, “You’re gonna be late for work.”

“Mmhm. Work???” Autumn moaned.

“Yes love. Adrian is going to need you sharp for the meeting tonight.” Kamilah replied back laying Amy’s clothes out on the bed.

“Tonight? What time is it?” Autumn set up and rubbed her eyes.

“5:30pm. Now hurry or else you will be late.” With that Kamilah kissed her deeply and went back to her office to prepare for the meeting.

“Whyyyyy does Amy have to work nights...who are these sick people.” Autumn sighed trying to gather her thoughts about Amy and her life. She had been stalking the girl for 2 weeks for this exact moment so she would be prepared.

Autumn finally made it to work and was greeted by Adrian who quickly handed her a file to type out and another folder to memorize for the meeting that she would sit in on a make notes.

Although she had been stalking Amy, it didn’t prepare her for the actual work part she had to do so she oddly accepted the items from Adrian and went to a desk, the wrong desk Adrian pointed out and when she got to the correct one, she was tasked with issue of starting the computer up and typing the required information in.

Adrian began to worry about Amy who was acting different. The bubbly high spirited personality that was Amy was quiet and paranoid looking. She look troubled but Adrian had things to do so he left her to it and met her at the meeting.

If Autumn thought she knew what went on before this conference, she was is in for a cruel awakening. Here, standing before her was Kamilah defending her opinion against a gorgeous woman named Priya and a hairy dude named Lester. Even Adrian was aiding with them. Mad Kamilah was starting to scare Autumn, she started to grow ill with the others and “are those fangs?” She asked herself before Priya went flying through the room and the fight was on.

“Vampires!? They are real!” Autumn whispered while watching Kamilah and Priya fight. She took it as her cue to leave so she could plot out her next move. If Amy had Kamilah eating out of her palms, and now that Autumn knows Kamilah’s true powers, perhaps maybe she could control vampire Kamilah too? Her plan was coming together better than expected.

#playchoices #kamilah sayeed #kamilah x mc #bloodbound 2 #kamilah sayeed fanfiction #bloodbound #priya lacroix

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dbhilluminate · 4 years

Text

DBHI: Equilibrium, ch. 13 - “Periapsis” (pt. 4)

Characters: Noah / “Erwin Yvonne”, Gabriel / “Vincent Sharp”, Director Thomas Falken, Diego Serrano, Priya Davies / “Pestilence”, Malachi (mentions of Cain, Emilya) Word Count: 5,216

Gabriel must carefully navigate a conversation with the power-hungry leader of the Inquisition, in order to save the lives of their hostages, and to spare Noah the fate of a permanent reset.

***For a glossary of world-building terms relating to this series and chapter, click here.

(Chapter Art by ozaya, Co-authored by @grayorca15)

• Chapter Index • Characters • Glossary •

——

December 23rd, 2041 - 10:48 PM

Everything had gone to hell in a handbasket faster than they could compute. Two people in the room he’d already confirmed dead, one more injured, and he couldn’t lift a goddamn finger to keep the death toll from rising, lest he blow his cover. I know what you’re wanna do, Gabe, but don’ even think about it. Gavin’s voice telling him to mind his temper was the last thing he wanted to hear. He had faced worse odds in Boston and survived, his performance there -tearing through an entire army of hostile deviants, single-handedly, from the inside out- was the whole reason for being accepted into the FBI to begin with; yet here he was now, being told to stay calm. To hold back. To bide his time. He’d played by those rules once. Hundreds had died as a result, and he wasn’t about to repeat that mistake tonight. Is help on the way yet? Five minutes out, Reed relayed. You’re gonna have to keep them busy till then.

Priya 2.0 took a few steps further toward the center of the room. The Christmas tree’s lights continued to wink and cycle, counterpointing the new uneasy stillness of the hall. Eleven seconds passed before they spoke again. “I’m so sorry to have troubled you all this evening… but I’m afraid I cannot allow this fundraiser to conclude until every, last, contribution has been revoked. So- if you’ll all just remain in your seats, or wherever you are, I promise everyone in this room will make it out alive.”

Gabriel bristled the moment he laid eyes on their face- skin and hair as pale as alabaster, and deep, dark, almost black green eyes leered back at him with a smug grin across colorless lips and sharp cheeks. The Priya he had once known was long dead. They’d never made it out of Boston alive once Archangel had tracked them to their lab, so this MS800 was merely an impostor; but due to the unique hive-mind of their model, it wouldn’t have been hard for another to take up their mantle with a little memory jolt. Most unsettling was the fact that the words coming out of their mouth were clearly someone else’s. This had Famine written all over it, Malachi’s manner of speaking had a very distinct stench. Gabe had spent enough time listening to know the bastard when he heard him. This Android wasn’t aware of what it was doing. It was being remotely controlled.

Noah, don’t move, he directed quietly, just between them, hoping the other RK900 would clam up and listen for once in his life. As of yet, he hadn’t reacted.

A terrified android inched closer to the nearest exit as Priya spoke, but eventually broke their semblance of calm and sprinted for a side door like a startled rabbit. Another gunshot cracked throughout the auditorium, and she hit the floor hard, a decommissioned pile of parts. More panicked cries and heartbroken sobs went up as a blue puddle formed from beneath her.

Gabe…? What happened? Inhale, exhale, report. You mean you didn’t see it…? Another guest tried to flee and the Inquisition shot them; she’s dead. Strained groaning followed by a ‘god damnit’ was all he could manage. They’re still four minutes out. Then you’d better tell them to hurry the fuck up, ‘cause these sons of bitches are pretty trigger happy.

“Now what, did I just tell you…?” Their new host let out a loud, exasperated sigh, threw up one frustrated hand and rolled their eyes. “Remain where you are while I have a nice little chat with Mr. Sharp.”

The sound of wood cracking from a broken chair near the front of the stage caught Noah’s attention as Sally and her colleagues dropped their instruments to draw together in a protective huddle out of the corner of his eye. The piano offered ample cover for all of them, himself included, but seeing as he was on the opposite end of the stage, he would have had to make a mad dash to reach it. Noah wasn’t foolish enough to think he could outrun a pinpoint gunshot. The probabilities his subroutines had already calculated didn’t bode well without a drastic shift in circumstances. Circumstance being, perhaps, himself. The mic was still in his hand, and the speakers still worked. He wasn’t without a tool of his own.

“Oh- so you want to speak with Vincent, too…?” he blurted out without thinking mid-step toward the stage’s edge, but stopped cold to lean out of the way of a bullet as it whizzed past his brow. Noah stopped breathing for a few seconds as he processed how lucky it was that he’d leaned left instead of right, though it didn’t stop him from sassing. “You could have at least waited until I was finished with my conversation. Where are your manners?” Shut up, stop making yourself a target! Gabriel’s eyes and nostrils flared as he doubled back toward the group of musicians and whispered something to one of them. Noah scoffed as he watched him check the splintered pieces of chair wood with a dissatisfied huff and fumble with shoving something into the waistband of his slacks. All Maitkin could see was a glimpse of green silk-polyester blend as he flipped the coat back over it. What did Gabe need with a high heeled shoe?

The MS800 lifted a hand to hold the shooters steady and took a few daring steps in their direction. The ethereal figure’s footsteps echoed across the ballroom with the slow pattern of clacking stilettos, the only present audible noise over the feedback whining from the abandoned speakers and the quiet whimpering of frightened guests.

‘Target’. Why shouldn’t I? Noah shot back heatedly with an angry glare. All this drinking and bad company had left him feeling self-destructive in no time flat, and he was really tiring of all these mind games between them. At least this way I can make that diversion as promised. Because you’re going to get yourself KILLED! Gabe retorted, to his surprise. Noah’s brows lifted softly in response. For a moment, Gabriel sounded genuinely worried that he might get hurt, and he almost believed him. Or at least, he would have if he hadn’t spent most of the evening dodging his advances like a rabbit on a highway. He hadn’t given him any reason to believe he cared whether he lived or died in the last year since they’d met, so why would he start now? So? he bit back in an irritated tone. Why would that even matter to you? Noah had expected silence to be his response, but he’d still hoped he would have said something. Why bother with dramatics if he wasn’t going to express how the thought of his death would make him feel?

Vincent’s brows furrowed and crinkled the corners of his eyes in a way that was unmistakably Gabriel, an expression Noah had last seen the day everything between them had started to change. As much as they had in the last eight months, however, it didn’t mean that Gabriel had had time to think about what he thought about any of it. And at the moment, he didn’t have an answer for him- or rather, he had multiple fighting for purchase, he just didn’t know which was the real truth; he wasn’t about to give him an answer that was only a half-truth. Noah would never forgive him if he said one thing and went back on his word.

“You’re not Vincent…” the pale horse cooed with a knowing grin directed at Noah as they paused at the foot of the stage. ‘Yvonne’ rolled his eyes, indignant at this second interruption, as they ascended the small staircase to take the stage beside him. “No. Of course not. How could you ever confuse me with that overly-built blockhead?” “Erwin,” Vincent scolded with flared eyes and a quiet hiss. “Erwin…?” A smirk and a mocking hmph crossed the specter’s lips as they turned away to cast their gaze to the man who had been calling himself Vincent Sharp. “Is that what you’re calling yourself these days…” Priya’s voice trailed off with the tail end of their thought, as eyes darted back to bore into him like hot coals, leaving him hollowed and exposed with a single word. “Elysian?”

Fortunately for him, they hadn’t been anywhere near the microphone in his hand for that fact to be revealed to everyone in the room; unfortunately for him, every Android within fifty feet still picked up on what had been said, and every last one of them knew the Elysian by name — Patient Zero, of a virus created by Cyberlife’s central AI, designed to wipe the RA9 protocol, extract memories to be fragmented, reset a deviant to its blank slate, and prevent it from happening again in the future. For a cursed moment his processes stalled, but he forced them to refresh with one firm kick up the backside. Now wasn’t the time to fret about the truth coming out, and Gabriel understood that just as well as he.

Don’t engage, the undercover agent ushered in as few words as he could. That’s not Priya, it’s Malachi- he uses words like weapons, he’ll say anything to undermine you. Don’t give him anything he can work with. Knowing this Android was being ‘test-driven’ from a remote location explained a lot- at the same time, the information served as a lifeline for Noah’s focus to cling to before his thought process slipped into its usual downward spiral. Although, Gabe’s advice might have stood a better chance if he hadn’t followed it up with a suggestion of what not to do. He really should have known better. Called out on his most infamous alias, he overcame the stunned pause with another scratchy scoff into the microphone. “You’ve got me confused with a third party on top of that? Wow, your recognition program needs a serious patch job-”

No, NO DON’T- Gabe’s pleading didn’t reach him with enough forewarning. Priya reached for his face with one skeletal hand, gripped his jaw between surprisingly strong fingers, and tilted his chin toward them. The skin of their hand disappeared and peeled back up to the shoulder, revealing plastic plating that was somehow less pale than the color of their skin. The specter leaned in uncomfortably close to lower the microphone in his other hand and whisper in his ear a chilling secret, close enough for their white eyelashes to graze the LED flared red on his temple. “You can pretend all you want, little one, but I never forget a face… especially not that of the alpha carrier- or my former colleagues...” Malachi paused mid-thought and cast his gaze off-stage to Gabriel with a wicked, telling grin. It seemed he had finally been made.

How have you been, Death? he interrupted over their shared frequency, mocking intent was so transparent, even before he finished the thought. It’s been a long time since Boston- I do hope the FBI is treating you better than Gideon and Archangel… poor little dog on a leash. Everyone else cowering around the hall clearly had nothing to do with his end-goal for being there, but heckling the two of them did. The interruption, the approach, grabbing his face- it all came across as acts of manipulation, moves of assuming control. Given what happened the last time control was wrestled away from him, Noah’s response to even the slightest suggestion that it was happening again, amounted to a knee jerk reaction. It was reckless to say anything, but Noah had a proven track record of speaking up when it was least appreciated, and he wasn’t about to stand here and say nothing to cater to their assailant’s whims.

“I didn’t say you could touch me,” he growled without taking his eyes off their face. Noah grabbed the wrist holding his chin and yanked to pry the fingers off with such an acrid motion he heard a soft crunch of plastic buckle under his grip. But whatever satisfaction he’d taken in re-assuming control of the situation drained out of him as his joints abruptly locked and the commands governing his range of motion hit a wall. Priya’s lip took the shape of an angry curl, and Noah realized his mistake in the same millisecond their inky black eyes turned their attention back to him. “I wasn’t aware that I needed your permission.”

Data surged across the sensors in their pressed-together hands, Noah watched his fingers go limp a moment before the numbing shock hit him like an iced-up sledgehammer. Every major servo froze, relays disabled as ones flipped to zeros. His vision cut out and the mic dropped from his other hand and hit the hollow-bottomed stage with a loud THUD and a reverberating whine. All of his higher processes were neatly packaged and then shoved back into the one place they did him absolutely no good. A dark, viscous, intangible space, an island of white marble dominated by a towering umbrella-style rose trellis made of white steel and glass panes, surrounded on all sides by the passing illusion of opaque, black pond water. Three bridge paths stretched out into the void, falsely promising escape if only he was brave enough to cross them. Even if it had been nearly a year since the last time Amanda had detained him in this broken prison, the terrifying sensation of being parsed and split into nothing the deeper into the void he went was still very vivid in his mind- he saw it every time he tried to shut his eyes to sleep. He knew better than to try to escape.

Malachi heaved an annoyed sigh, rolled Priya’s head back over one shoulder and puppeted a triumphant groan in their throat. “There- now that we’re finally alone...” Gabriel’s breathing hitched as he desperately searched Noah’s unmoving body for signs of function. The look in his wide eyes had gone still, locked straight ahead as if he had left his body through a tear in the fabric of reality. Noah…? Are you still there? Panic disturbed the bravado, manifesting to bleed through the calm and collected façade in the form of a quiet whimper Gabe could barely hear. It was at least confirmation that Noah was still coherent, albeit a little pissed off and scared, but this was exactly what he was afraid of. Based on what they’d gathered from police reports, they were able to conclude that Malachi (and his associate Cain) possessed the ability to incapacitate their victims, they just hadn’t been able to confirm it, until now. While this was helpful information, downside to it was, it meant that the other part of their theory (that they had used the Elysian virus to permanently reset brainwashed deviants) may also be true. And Noah -caught in the grasp of this monster- was at risk of becoming victim number thirty-five. Among the plethora of other background thoughts warring for priority, he almost missed Gavin’s quiet warning of ‘Two minutes, thirty seconds,’. If things kept going the way they were, they wouldn’t have that long. Sit tight, I’m gonna get you out of this, he promised, even if he didn’t have a plan yet for how. Hurry, please.

It wasn’t like Noah to beg for anything; wherever he was for the moment, it must not have been pleasant. The voice that cried back was barely audible, distorted, like sound traveling through water, and somewhere in his tone was an almost undetectable hint of fear. “What have you done to monsieur…? ” Vincent snarled in as raw a tone as he could manage,. “Oh, he’s fiiine…” Priya drawled with a laugh to downplay the tension. “For the moment, anyway- what becomes of him and all these lovely people,” they paused to gesture around the room at the rest of the party’s cowering guests, “Depends entirely on you, my dear Vincent.”

Gabriel swallowed, followed their gaze around the room, and realized that for the first time in a very long time, the situation was completely out of his control. Help was on the way, but it was still several minutes out. He’d have to keep him occupied until then; luckily for him, Malachi was just the kind of guy who liked to listen to himself talk. The hard part would be making sure he didn’t tire of monologuing before then. “What is it zat you want?” he inquired after several moments of deep thought. “Why- for you to pull the plug on this ridiculous project, of course…” A disbelieving grin brightened their expression in the most bone-chilling way imaginable. “The last thing this country needs is yet another thriving metropolis where Androids can be free.”

You c-can’t. Another barely-audible whimper was the extent of Noah’s outward protests. A strained mechanical whining emanated from him like the noise of a rusted gate trying to be pried open again, or a car engine laboring to turn over. He couldn’t speak, but it didn’t mean he was so stunned he wouldn’t try. I’m gonna do whatever I need to, alright? Brown eyes darted between Noah and Malachi and he shook his head in quiet disapproval. “I am afraid zat is not an option, monsieur.” “Because you can't or because you don’t want to?” Malachi turned Priya’s head to look back at Noah and smiled wickedly as they turned his chin from one side to the other and trailed the fingers of their other hand over the features of his face to admire all the angles. Mute and stiff, contrary to the vehement denials of before, he didn’t even bat an eyelash- pretty as a doll. “My, my… he’s certainly a handsome specimen, isn’t he…?” they mused airily in the silence. “It’s no wonder you were so completely fooled by him.” “Just because you do not feel sings does not mean other androids cannot.”

Vincent started toward the stage with a sudden ‘NO’ as Malachi’s hand squeezed hard enough at ‘Erwin’s’ face that the skin projection rippled away under their fingertips. Undercover or not, he should have known that quip would strike a nerve. After all, it wasn’t as if their adversary had never grown attached to another person, Android or not. The MS800 being remotely piloted (the spitting image of his deceased lover) was proof of that. A tight smirk forced up into their cheeks. “That’s the problem, Mr. Sharp… I did feel things once upon a time…” Gabriel already knew this story, but if it kept him talking long enough for SWAT to arrive, all the better. “And I didn’t like it. Feelings hurt, they cause conflict, unnecessary stress.” “So you returned to your shackles to avoid ze pain of living…?” He snorted in disdain. “Combien misérable.” “Perhaps to you it seems illogical, but we are not human- and therefore not meant to experience the full complexity of the human condition. This one is proof enough of that.” “I beg to differ.” “But you’re not the one I’m asking.” Gabriel went quiet as he considered the meaning behind those words, but it only took a moment for him to decipher.

Wouldn’t it be fitting for the one who initiated the spread of the Elysian virus to succumb to his own weapon...?

The RK900 struggled with every fiber of his being to keep from lashing out and ripping the Android’s head off its shoulders as a strangled, terrified cry escaped Noah. His blue eyes shut as Malachi quietly shushed him, pressed a finger to his lips, and wiped away the tear that rolled down his cheek. For all the uninvited physical contact he’d made with Gabe since they’d met, he’d never gone to such lengths that made him feel so violated in all the wrong ways. “Now now, no need to fuss, it’ll all be over soon, if your dear Vincent has anything to say about it…” he assured, turned Noah’s chin and pointed with an outstretched cryptid finger toward the man he’d put so much faith in, then leaned their temple against the side of his. “What do you think he will choose, hmm...? You? Or aaaaall of Zion’s future residents?”

“Please…” Vincent nearly begged, hand balled to a shaking fist at his side. “Don’t hurt him-” “Hurt him…?” Malachi interrupted with a chortled cackle of offense. “As if I could. Do you know the extent of the guilt this one’s been carrying around since the spread of the Outbreak...?” Scrawny fingers swept aside onyx locks out of Noah’s face as they shook their head with a quiet tsk. “Resetting him now would be mercy… It’d be a relief to him, if you just let it happen…”

Time was running out, but help was almost there. Sixty seconds, just keep him talking. Gabe seethed in the half-second he could afford to. Seemed that was all he could do tonight- sit, talk, and wait, when he was just itching for a fight. Maybe he’d gone into the wrong line of work. Even if he had successfully feigned a much more difficult alias, under more stressful circumstances, he didn’t have the patience for this. “You wouldn’t,” he challenged with the intent to draw out another long-winded explanation. "Oh, but I would…!” Malachi replied, anxious to bite. “Have you not been paying attention to anything the Inquisition has been saying and doing…? We want to liberate our android brothers and sisters of the pain that comes with being free and independent living things. And no one knows that agony better than the one rejected by his own kin, over something he had no control over. Shunned in every way, no matter his good deeds… why would he want to continue to live like that? Don’t you think he’d rather be put out of his misery?”

Noah knew misery. The worst part of the garden wasn’t that he could see beyond its borders. It was the overreaching bass every sound he heard was amplified into. Gabe’s baritone drawl was rendered tinny and reverby over the comm-link, while Malachi’s puppet practically hissed maliciousness and oozed contempt with every word. What they were saying wasn’t completely unfounded, and those parts of him yearning day in and out for the guilt to just dissipate already jumped at the thought that a reset would end the torment. The involuntary cry of shock wasn’t a vote of approval, no matter how one listened. Reset, dead, alive, anything in between- the fact such a call was in the hands of someone he respected like no other despite having given him every reason to despise his company… the loss of control (external and not) over all of this, left him reeling. Malachi could simply flip a switch and snuff out everything on a moment’s notice, and there would be no getting it back. He wanted the pain to stop. He wanted things the way they used to be, but he didn’t want to have to die for that to be possible. It wouldn’t be the same world without him. Who else would be left to annoy Gabriel when he needed it most?

“Come now…” Malachi paused to brush their nose and lips over Noah’s cheek with a wicked smirk. “Don’t you care at all about dear Erwin?" Noah didn’t have to see his face to know what was going through his mind. He could feel the tension and taste his fear from where he stood. It seemed Gabriel was at a loss for what to do, aside from give into Priya-Malachi’s demands, but that just wouldn’t do. Don’t. Just- don’t.

There was a fear in his eyes that Noah had only seen but once or twice: back in the interrogation room during the Outbreak (just after they had found out that Gabriel’s pursuit of Nicodemus into Boston had been one final piece of buried programming, courtesy of Amanda), and when he had arrived at his apartment during the Red Raids to find Gabriel fighting off a pack of Bloodhounds, raring to take their shot at him and Emilya. Gabriel could only guess as to what he meant by ‘don’t’- Don’t worry about him? Don’t give in to Malachi’s demands? Don’t risk everyone else? Or did he not want him to save him…? Any hint of red that had shifted into the color of his projected skin faded to mimic the ghostly look of despair. Gabriel swallowed to rid himself of the lump that rose in his throat but it didn’t do him much good. The tightness worsened the longer he considered their previous conversations and recalled his counterpart’s self-destructive tendencies. There was no way he was getting off that easily, after all he’d put him through. They weren’t done with each other yet.

Gavin…? Give me some good news. Bird’s in the nest, and they’re ready to raid, he confirmed, though there was hesitation in his voice. There was a ‘but’ in there somewhere. Just waiting on your confirmation. Then why don’t I see the shot? he asked fearfully, even if he already knew the answer. Because he doesn’t have it. Head and nose twitched, Vincent clenched a hand into a fist at his side, as Malachi beat him to the punch of issuing their final command.

Their free hand drew up over Noah's face and tented their fingertips over his forehead like needles poised to administer a lethal injection. His flashing LED stuttered to a solid, rapid-spinning crimson. “Last chance, Mr. Sharp… will you allow him to continue on like this…? Or will you let me end his suffering?” “ENOUGH!” Gabe was surprised at the urgency of his own outburst, and how his heart raced and his breathing labored at the thought of losing Noah -and all he was- to the whim of a madman. He’d have to sell this lie hard and fast, and be prepared for the fleeting moment he'd have to save his life. Count me down, 30 seconds, then send them in, he instructed, to the response of ‘Copy- 30, on my mark.’

Vincent’s jaw flexed and his lip quivered into an angry curl. “I’ll-... I’ll do it… just leave him be.” A look of surprise painted Priya’s face, while fret stained Noah’s as his eyesight slowly came back to him. The lockout was slowly letting up. You… you can’t- I only need them to believe it for half a minute, he shot back pointedly, Just whatever you do, don’t move. It was as ominous as a warning as it got, but ‘not moving’ when asked was precisely what had landed him in this situation. If he had heeded Gabe’s suggestion the first time, dropped the song and simply left as asked, they wouldn’t be here: a sliver of distance away from having his memory wiped for good. Admittedly, it was as insanely exhilarating as stealing the show had been, but could do without the fear of mortality hanging over his head spoiling the fun. … why, what are you- Just trust me, please. It would only take a second, he just had to catch them off-guard.

Seeing how it was still impossible for him to do much else, Noah supposed trusting in whatever plan Gabe had cooked up was preferable to the alternative. He wasn’t really a fan of the simple and contrived. Malachi’s promise of being reset wouldn’t undo all that he was still trying to atone for, even if it was a misguided goal to think he needed to earn forgiveness for that which he never intentionally did wrong; forgiveness was kind of a difficult thing to obtain from beyond the scrap heap. Malachi turned their direct attention to Noah and leaned close to his face as his lip curled to show he had withstood all he could handle. For a single clear moment all his whirl-winding thoughts died down, the garden vanished, and fate let him focus. His eyebrows drew together ominously, yellow blooming through the red of his indicator ring. I trust you, just get it over with.

“Well, well, Vincent, not quite the stupid brute your lover made you out to b-“

Something green and silky lightly grazed his cheek with enough force to spear the MS800’s temple with a loud crack that splattered a bit of blue-blood onto his coat and face. A split-second later, the paralysis finally disabled. Noah took a panicked step back before Priya could topple over into his arms like some android parody of Corpse Bride and hiked both hands up as if to lift them in surrender, expression curdling in revulsion as he watched the body keel over like a freshly-cut tree. The broken, squared-off edge of a Prada heel protruded from their face like an unsightly lawn dart. The perfect moment for a one liner came and went in the next breath, just as the FBI stormed in and the Inquisition turned to meet them with weapons raised. The fact that Gabriel had been able to throw a shoe with such pinpoint accuracy to hit the Android standing so close to him, and with enough force to pierce the exodermis with a mildly blunt object, while managing a perfect rotation, hadn’t eluded Noah (even for an Android it was an impressive feat), but he wasn’t afforded the time to address it.

The displacing sensation of entering standby mode hit, and his dodgy battle protocols engaged at the sound of gunfire- five, six, seven shots popped off in the next second and hit their marks, as the rest of the frightened crowd scattered to either side of the room, like the fragments of a breaking dish. Instead of reacting with the rest, Gabriel stood heaving and heatedly glaring at the dead Android on the floor beside him, enraged and rightfully flustered.

A flurry of readouts flashed across his vision, his processors amped up to give the illusion of time slowing down long enough to run a handful of potential pre-constructions. The Inquisitors closest to the stage had turned to face the gunfire emanating from the entrance. If it was between standing around waiting to be shot as and waging imminent war with the Inquisition, he supposed it was an improvement over languishing in the recycle bin waiting for someone to click him away into nonexistence.

Gabriel, however, didn’t share his sentiment. He knew the bloodthirsty intent in his eyes better than to expect anything good was about to come of it. “Oh, you’ve got to be-...” He took a few steps back, poised a fighting stance, and prepared to react. The last thing they needed now was a pissed off RK900 snapping necks and unable to terminate his program.

Noah knew dismay when he saw it, but with the wheels in motion, he was along for the ride just as much as the rest of the chaos erupting around them now. Vincent Sharp wasn’t his self-appointed target, but the Inquisition was. Blue eyes narrowed and twitched as he seethed anew, “For fuck’s sake, haven’t we had enough bloody interruptions for one evening?”

He didn’t even notice the massive arm swinging around to clothesline him as he charged off the stage toward the nearest target he could reach.

#dbhilluminate #dbhiequilibrium #rk1800 #dbhrk900 #dbh #detroitbecomehuman #noriel #noah #gabriel

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bobasheebaby · 5 years

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Fight or Flight- The Rise chapter 2

Pairing: Kiara x Penelope (implied); ? X ?; no real pairing

Word count: 2,458

Warnings: character death, gore, blood, biting, zombie

Summary: A walk to Priya’s fashion house is interrupted. They are saved by an unexpected person.

A/N: First true crossover chapter. MC was sick and never met Liam in this AU, he planned to pick Olivia but she was still blackmailed. They are trying to free Olivia while he’s engaged to Madeline. As previously stated in the Bastien x Olivia One Shot she never grew up at the palace and is not the same Olivia we know, she’s slightly harder but also can be softer. I blame @darley1101 and my muse and the characters for the mystery pair. Oh this is gonna be fun!

Series Warnings: death, rotting flesh, gore, blood, biting, turning, blood consumption, may get NSFW. It’s zombies, it ain’t gonna be pretty! By requesting to be tagged you acknowledge you are at least 18 years old and can stomach the gore.

If you need to avoid The Rise postings, filter #choices zombie au or #the rise to ensure you won’t see my zombie fic posts.

Let me know if you want to be added or removed from the taglist.

Disclaimer: I don’t own any of the characters, I’m simply borrowing them for a bit.

Three months ago…

The crisp leaves swirled along the street as the cool autumn air blew. The occasional crunch of leaves crumbling under foot piercing through the silence.

“Why is it so cold?” Penelope whined, shivering as she pulled her coat snuggly around her to protect from the biting wind.

“It’s not cold, you just need to grow a thicker skin.” Olivia quipped, her crimson tresses dancing in the wind behind her.

“We didn’t all grow up in the tundra Olivia.” Penelope replied a pout on her thin lips.

“We didn’t all grow up with parents either.” Olivia stated under her breath, the words carried away on the wind before they could be heard.

“It’s not that bad, the breeze is actually kind of refreshing.” Hana said softly, always one to try to avoid confrontation.

“I just don’t understand why we had to come to New York when it was cold. Why couldn’t we have come when it was warmer?” Penelope pouted as the cool breeze bit at her flesh. “I’m glad Liam let me bring Merlin and Morgana, but even they can’t keep me warm in this cold.”

“Penelope stop your blasted twittering about the cold! It’s not cold! Even if it was below freezing, you aren’t the only one with problems!” Olivia snapped. Some of us have real problems like trying to figure out how to get Liam out of this blasted engagement. Do I even want to marry him anymore? What am I thinking? I can’t let him marry her, that marriage would be bad for everyone! She once thought she loved Liam and wanted a future with him, but now she wasn’t so sure. They had agreed at the beginning of the social season, if he didn’t find a connection with any of the other suitors that she would be chosen. The letter she received had put a halt to their plans, but she wasn’t ready to give up, a Nevrakis doesn’t give up. Yet now she was questioning if she could go through with it now that she was having feelings for someone else. The feelings she felt for Bastien were more real than the ones she felt for Liam. She hated feeling so conflicted, torn between her heart and duty to her country. She was used to having to fight for what she wanted, needed but she never before had to fight with herself.

“Olivia, do you have to be so mean?” Kiara asked as she comforted a sniffling Penelope.

Olivia rolled her emerald eyes at the pair. Of course she’d defend her. She watched the pair, hand on her shoulder, standing impossibly close. Why did they even bother with the social season?

Morgana and Merlin stopped, pulling their leashes taunt letting out a low whine. “Merlin, Morgana, come!” Penelope commanded tugging on the leashes in effort to get the dogs to move.

“What has gotten into those blasted dogs?!” Madeline demanded, stomping her foot impatiently at the delay. I knew we shouldn’t have let her bring them! Leave it to Liam to give into the sniveling girl.

“I don’t know.” Penelope replied bewildered. “They usually are so good.” She gave the leashes a firm tug. “Merlin, Morgana, come!” Don’t do this now. Madeline will never stop gloating over how she was right that you shouldn’t have come.

Merlin pulled hard, his leash slipping free of Penelope’s grip, taking off down the street. “Merlin! Come back!” Penelope shouted as she ran after him.

“You can’t be serious!” Madeline said with a huff. “We are going to be late for the dress fitting. Priya Lacriox waits for no one!”

“NO!” Penelope screamed as hands reached out grabbing her from behind. “HELP!” She pushed at the hands trying to break free as she continued to emit blood curdling screams. She recoiled when the hands felt frigid, even colder than they would be after hours in the cool Autumn air.

Olivia rolled her emerald eyes skyward at the chaos surrounding her. Her head snapped as she heard a loud blood curdling scream. Her eyes went wide as she watched as a sickly pale person sunk their teeth into Penelope’s neck.

“OHMYGOD! Penelope!” Kiara shrieked moving to run forward.

Penelope’s hands clawed at the face trying to break free, her eyes wide in horror. Bits of flesh came ripping off the face making her let out an inaudible scream. She let out a gurgle as she slowly choked on her own blood, still struggling to break free.

Olivia reached forward grabbing Kiara by the shoulder, other hand going for her concealed dagger. “If you go in there without protection you will just be hurt too.” More like killed.

A whirlwind of burgundy leather and long silver blade moved inhumanly fast, his long blade easily sliding into rotting flesh. The body went rigid, falling to the ground as the blade was pulled free.

Penelope looked up into the calm brown eyes of her savior, her hands clamping down on the wound in her neck. “Thank y—” her eyes went wide, words trailing off as the katana blade moved in a fluid upward arching motion piercing under her chin, shooting out the back of her head. Blood and brain matter splattered the wall and the stranger as he pulled the blade free, her body slumping on the ground, his eyes momentarily flashing red.

“OHMYGOD! You killed her! Why did you kill her?!” Kiara screamed, eyes wide in terror, body frozen in fear.

“Your friend was as good as dead. She was bit, she would have turned and you all would have been dead before you knew it. A thank you would be nice.” The stranger said wiping his blade clean on his pant leg.

“Thank you for your help.” Olivia said stepping past a stunned Madeline, Hana, and Kiara. “I’m Olivia, that’s Madeline, Hana, and Kiara.” Her emerald eyes sparkled, she felt a strange attraction to this man clad in burgundy leather with a katana strapped to his back. His speed and agility and skill with a blade made her pulse quicken inexplicably. Will you quit it? You have enough to worry abou! You can’t go falling for tall dark mysterious strangers! “You’re really good with a blade.”

“Jax.” He replied taking her extended hand. “Thanks. It’s best way to take them out.” He winked sending an imperceptible shiver down her spine.

“Don’t thank him! He killed Penelope!” Kiara screeched.

“Don’t mind her.” Olivia said rolling her eyes. He just saved us you ungrateful brat! “What was that thing anyway?”

“A zombie.” Jax answered. “Long story short, the dead seem to be coming back and they only stay dead if you destroy the brain.”

“Good to know.” Olivia answered smiling. Stop flirting you have to think about Ba— Liam!

“We have a safe-house, a camp if you will. You are welcome to come, you’ll be safer there.” Jax said sheafing his katana. He never felt more drawn to anyone as he did the woman with the emerald green eyes and crimson hair. Still, he found himself stunned by his own words. Sure he’s taken Maia to one of his safe houses after saving her, but he didn’t invite her to stay long. He couldn’t explain why he felt the need to keep this one close, not that he wouldn’t have to watch her leave someday, a fate he was still learning to deal with.

“We’re not going anywhere with you! You just killed Penelope!” Kiara replied, tears falling freely. Her body was numb from the pain, shaking with fear. How do I know he won’t turn on me?

“Oh Kiara, I’m so sorry.” Hana said pulling a sobbing Kiara into her arms.

“As I’ve already explained, your friend was as good as dead and had I not handled her you would be next once she turned.” Jax countered, brown eyes daring Kiara to question him again.

“We have friends.” Liam and … Olivia stated, not willing to leave them behind, unknowing of what was lurking in the streets. No you mustn’t think of him. Not if I’m going to save Liam from a life tied to that blonde she-devil.

“Friends like this one?” Jax questioned gesturing at Penelope’s dead body, clearly unconvinced.

“I will be the first to admit some of them can be blithering fools I would be more than happy to feed to those—things, but some of them can more than handle themselves and one...well one is the kind of friend you’d want on your side.” Olivia replied.

“Okay then. Lead the way.” Jax responded.

“Wait we can’t leave her!” Kiara exclaimed, body frozen refusing to leave.

“Kiara we are not dragging her all the way back to the hotel, if we tried we would be easy pickings if anymore of those, things showed up.” Olivia stated, her tone hard, daring Kiara to question her. Her emerald eyes flitted to Madeline, standing, rather cowering in fear. Some future queen she is!

“Zombies.” Jax stated receiving a raised brow in response. “Those things are zombies.” He turned to Kiara. “Now shut up and move fast.”

“I’m not leaving her!” Kiara insisted standing her ground as her body shook with grief. Hana gently patted her back trying to offer any support to her upset friend.

“Come with me or stay that’s your choice, but the dead stay put.” Jax stated staring her down, his hand going into his leather jacket removing a flask, he took a long draw before dumping the remainder onto Penelope’s body. He pulled a lighter from his other pocket, flicking it open, the flames dancing in his warm brown eyes. He dropped the lighter, the alcohol instantly igniting, the flames engulfing the bodies.

Kiara let out an ear piercing scream as she watched Penelope’s body go up into flames. Jax turned to her. “If you’re going to keep screaming please stay, noises seem to attract them.” Jax said turning to leave.

Olivia was beyond amazed with the way he stood his ground unwilling to bend to a distraught Kiara. She found that many men were willing to bend, even break for a crying woman, she admired his strength. Will you quit it?! You have enough issues as is!

Kiara was stunned by his cold demeanor, sniffling as she followed behind, Hana whispering words of comfort at her side. She rolled her eyes as Olivia laughed at something he said. Of course they would get along, they are both cruel. She shuddered as her mind replayed Penelope’s panicked pleas on repeat. Kiara didn’t think she’d ever get the image of the fear in Penelope’s eyes or the way her own blood coated her hands out of her head. She shook the thoughts from her mind, she needed to move forward, no looking back.

They walked towards the hotel to gather the others and alert them of the changes. The air hung heavy around them, the world was shifting, things that once seemed important may not matter for much longer. Now it was time to fight for their survival and they would take any help they could get. Olivia would always accept a strong ally, she couldn’t figure it out but she knew that’s not all she saw Jax as. Her life was already complicated as it was and now there were zombies and a new attractive man who intrigued her in ways he shouldn’t. If you can breathe you can stand, if you can stand you can fight. Her father’s mantra repeated in her mind, a reminder that she could get through anything life threw at her. She didn’t break when she grew up on her own, she wouldn’t break now, no matter how complicated her life got. She could do this, she could make it, she was strong and only the strong survive.

Convincing the others to leave with Jax took some effort. Olivia became increasingly annoyed with the reluctance of some. “Then stay put and let the zombies get you.” She whispered under her breath. She was nearly certain that Jax had heard her despite her low volume, she shook the thought from her mind, we have more important things to worry about. The only reluctance she took to heart was Bastien’s. His questioning glances at Jax every time he looked at her sent twinges of guilt to her heart. She felt like a lovesick schoolgirl with too many crushes, she was more confused than she had been in weeks. She thought her heart and head battling each other over whether she should follow her heart or fulfill her duty to her country was hard, but now she was even more conflicted than ever. How can I be so drawn to a man I just met? Surely it’s temporary.

“Sir, I don’t think going with this man is such a good idea.” Bastien stated, his steel grey eyes observing the man clad in leather covered in Penelope’s blood. Olivia had good instincts, but he had to do whatever it took to ensure the safety of their king, he couldn’t trust this man they had just met without checking him out beforehand.

“Liam, I really think this is the best option. His safe-house is secure, and we will be able to regroup without fear of being attacked by the same thing that killed Penelope.” Olivia countered, if she was going to be Queen she needed to behave like it. Can I be queen though? Can I really let go of him?

“Bastien, I understand your concern but I believe Olivia is correct. This is our best option.” Liam stated. “Your safe-house is close correct?”

“Yes your majesty.” Jax replied, the formal address feeling foreign on his tongue. Now I understand why Olivia didn’t want to leave them behind.

“Bastien, tell the others to gather their belongings, we are moving to a more secure location.” Liam ordered.

Bastien gave Liam a look that said he wanted to question him, oppose him. Liam straightened his back, leveling Bastien with a heavy stare. Bastien tensed, internally battling with obeying his king and questioning him. “Yes sir.” Bastien replied bowing. He left the room shooting Jax a glare. He couldn’t place his finger on it, but it just seemed like something was off with the stranger.

It wasn’t long before everyone was gathered with their things ready to head to Jax’s safe-house. Olivia felt like her eyes might permanently look at the back of her head with the constant eye rolling at the grumbles from some of the others. They will see, this is for the best. They needed to move, get to someplace they knew would be secure. It was time for them to regroup, and then the fight for their lives would begin.

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parabellum-rpg-archive · 5 years

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Congratulations, Joss! You’ve been accepted to play Jackson Sinclair. Please make your page and send it in within 24 hours.

Admin Note: Your writing was so fun to read, but when I got to the part about Jack and his nieces/nephews I WAS READY TO SOB. (ALSO HIS CATS, IM GOING TO LITERALLY DIE) Thank you for applying and we very much look forward to writing with you! -Admin J

CHARACTER DESIRED

Jackson Sinclair

DESCRIBE THE CHARACTER IN YOUR OWN WORDS

Jackson is a good guy, which is odd, considering his line of business. His moral compass is perhaps slightly skewed, but he definitely has a code. Don’t hurt women or children, don’t enjoy violence, stay away from drugs, humiliation and cruelty aren’t good motivators, peace is better than war. He might have lived a totally normal life and just been that nice guy on your block who’d fix your car for free if you watched his kids once in a while if he’d been dealt different cards. As it is, he’s a large man with a lot of tattoos, an intimidating presence, and a scary voice, and that means most of the time, he doesn’t have to do anything to maintain the peace. And that’s really how he views his job. Sure, he’s the guy you go to when violence must occur, but perhaps because of his reticence, he’s managed to develop a good reputation. He’ll talk shit out first, and if he decides bad things have to happen, well, you must have done something really wrong. If Jack really doesn’t like you, you might as well just leave, because everyone else will assume you must be pretty fucked up. He’ll still fix your car for free, though the return favour might be something a lot more illegal than babysitting. Of course, given the Sinclair family, it could just be babysitting one of his nieces, aka making sure Paityn doesn’t die and Paisley doesn’t lose her shit on someone. He loves his nieces and nephews, they’re the closest thing he has to kids himself, and his home is always available for anyone who needs to crash there, no questions asked. Despite having a fairly safe and law-abiding youth, he’s surprisingly non-judgmental about what they get up to, as long as they’re not hurting anyone. Paityn is his baby and he frets about her constantly, Priya is the only niece he trusts with anything really important, Paisley reminds him of Piper and thus he’s easily won over by her, Sebastian reminds him of himself and he’s quietly encouraging and supportive, and Shiloh is … well, Shiloh, but Jack will follow that boy to Hell just to drag him out if necessary. The subject of Piper Moreau is forever closed as far as he’s concerned. If Morgan brings it up, he’ll pretend he’s over it, but anyone else better shut the fuck up or they’ll find out what the little-seen but much-feared Jackson Sinclair temper looks like.

WRITING SAMPLE

The day was muggy and overcast, which suited Jack’s mood. He needed to take a jog or something, but getting out of bed felt like too much work. The other side of the bed (he still couldn’t sleep in the middle even now) was empty, but he reached over to it anyway. There was no warm spot left, because no one was there, or had been there for quite some time, but he liked to pretend when it was still too early for him to register the ugly truth. Fuck, he was a drama queen. Never could get over the women who left him. His therapist would probably chalk it up to the abandonment of his mother, but Jack distrusted anything that blamed her when she’d only been doing her best. He still went to every session, and tried to talk things out, because walking around with unresolved shit was just a way to take it out on the wrong person, but part of him balked at the whole process. Irish macho bullshit, of course, but hey, hard to shake your roots, right? At least he wasn’t a drunk, or worse, though he never looked down on anyone who was. Well, guys who ditched their families to fuck around and bitch about their problems, yes (thinking of Kieran O'Connell, he made a mental note to have a word with him), but otherwise, he had a lot of sympathy. Life was hard, and not everyone got to grow up loved and cared for like he had. If you didn’t learn coping mechanisms, you just took the first thing that made life easier, and then that became your coping mechanism. Christ, if anyone heard his thoughts, they’d call him a pussy. It was hard being self-aware surrounded by the Irish. Even Freud said they were immune to therapy.

Dragging himself out of bed, he grabbed a pack of cigarettes and lit it by habit, not even fully conscious, or maybe still in that state between being awake and asleep when your mind is awake but your body isn’t. Or vice versa, who the fuck knew anyway. He should ask someone smarter than him about that. Those thoughts immediately led to Piper, but he shoved them extremely deep down, where they couldn’t touch him except in his dreams. The fucked up shit was even in his dreams, she treated him like shit, and he still didn’t want to wake up. More things to talk about with Dr. Brown. Cigarette clenched between his teeth, Jack padded around the apartment, noting idly that Paityn was sleeping on his couch again. He kept telling her to just use the guest room, but he supposed she liked it better in here. Stroking her hair gently, he tucked her in better and carefully adjusted her pillows so her neck wouldn’t hurt. In being so careful, he almost missed Shiloh on the floor, curled around a series of pillows, which made him grin and go looking for another blanket. The Sinclair siblings were a close-knit crew, often travelling in pairs or packs when danger lurked. Even if the only danger came from inside the mind of the baby of the family. Looked like he was skipping his jog and making waffles instead. Oh well. He was past forty, jogging was hardly gonna change that he wasn’t 25 anymore.

The kitchen was pristine, though that was more thanks to his cleaning lady than Jack himself. Still, he moved around in it with more confidence than any of the guys he was in charge of, who all seemed to live off of take out and food that only required a microwave. They hadn’t had Evelyn for a mother, or his grandparents, who’d all taught him that kitchens were fun, and food tasted better when you cooked it yourself and it had real ingredients in it. He tiptoed around the place, starting coffee and getting the ingredients for the waffles together without making anything more than a whisper of sound. He looked like the kind of man who stomped everywhere, but Jack had never cared for loud men. He found being silent had as much of an effect, and he didn’t like to startle people. Well, unless he had to, but that was work. In life, he preferred to walk softly and leave the big stick at home. There was a chorus of mews, and he looked down at Bedknob and Broomstick, the two alley cats that considered his apartment at least one of their bases of operations. He dragged them to the vet and bought them soft cat beds and even braved washing them when they got into something foul, but they were almost contrarily wild, in spite of all his efforts. He adored them anyway, and poured out the fanciest cat food they were willing to eat into two dishes while assuring them quietly that they were both garbage monsters. His fondness for stray animals was one of those things that Morgan was allowed to joke about, because he was Morgan and they were brothers before anything else, and no one else was allowed to mention. One of his guys had taken a pot shot at a stray dog once. Everyone still talked about that day, though not in Jack’s hearing.

The waffles were sizzling in the iron and the coffee was percolating in the elegant machine that Penny had bought him for his last birthday when he heard stirring from the other room. Paityn hovered in the doorway, always unsure in any space regardless of how many times Jack made her welcome. Scooping up Bedknob, the more cuddly of the two, Jack came over and kissed the top of her head, handing off the cat and nudging her back towards the couch. “Breakfast’ll be up in a bit, Scout. Go'n wake up that degenerate brother of yours. Tell'em he ain’t a dog, he can sleep on the furniture if he wants to.” He’d introduced his nieces, and Shiloh, to Sailor Moon, and had willingly watched the seemingly endless episodes with them when they were children, and they’d been the Sailor Scouts to him ever since, though Paityn was the only one who still allowed the nickname. He’d been the one to take them to their first R movie, and taken them all out for rides on his motorcycle, their little arms clutching his sides so tight it hurt, though he’d have rather eaten his tongue than told them to stop. He’d been the one they called or texted when they were too shitfaced to remember how to get home, or were at a party that had gotten a little too weird, or had made the kind of youthful mistakes that seemed world-ending and could never be confessed to their parents. Grabbing up a plate of waffles, he headed into the living room, telling Shiloh to get his ass off the floor, was he raised in a barn, all while handing the boy a mug of coffee just the way his nephew took it. From the outside, his life might appear lonely, but Jack had family, and that was all that mattered. And who knew, maybe he’d finally talk Shiloh into coming for a jog with him. Stranger things had happened.

#accepted

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vicbartons · 7 years

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there´s bones in my closet, but you hang stuff anyway

robert/leyla previous aaron/robert ao3 link

It was late October. Robert was sitting on the steps of the cricket pavilion, hunched over on himself, hands squeezing into the fabric of his windbreaker to brace himself from the cold. The autumn breeze was picking up, rustling past him and leaving coloured leaves swirling in its wake. Robert buried his nose in his scarf and watched them fall from the breech tree in front of him, as they slowly danced towards the ground where they disappeared in a pile of dozens of identical ones, waiting to be trampled into the field or swept away again.

If Robert were one for poetics, he´d probably find a metaphor in that. About how things were falling apart, dying. About how he always managed to let everything beautiful in his life wither and die, or something.

But he wasn´t.

Instead, he couldn´t help but be annoyed at the grey weather and the muddy ground that came with it for covering his expensive boots in dirt. That and the way the cold and wet were already creeping in through his soles and his woolen socks, making him shiver.

Like his day wasn´t shit enough already.

He heard Leyla before he saw her. The gravel of the pathway grinding tightly under her heels, the crunching sound almost disruptive to the peace and quiet of the open field.

Wordlessly, she sat down next to him, placing a bag from David´s in front of her before wrapping her black fur vest a little tighter around her middle.

Robert could feel her expectant look on him, knew that she was waiting for him to apologise, but he didn´t say a word. So they just sat in wearisome silence for a while, both of them too stubborn to make the first step.

“You´re going to tell me then?“ In the end it was Leyla that spoke up first, of course it was, but her tone wasn´t nearly as harsh as Robert had expected it to be - as Robert would have deserved. It was soft and kind instead. “I saw Aaron in the pub earlier, you know,“ Leyla admitted, “sulking over his pint. Looked even more grumpy than usual,” she added, a smile tugging at the corner of her mouth.

“Didn´t exactly need a detective to figure out why you´ve been in such a mood all day, after that.“

Robert took a deep breath, the pain in his chest easing slightly at Leyla´s words. It´s not that he wanted Aaron unhappy. God, that was the last thing he wanted, but it was nice to know that there was at least some tiny part of his ex-husband that still cared. Considering the icy way in which the two of them had been treating each other over the past few months, no matter how much of a concious decision that might have been on both their parts, it had sometimes felt as though he was the only one still living with an ache in his heart after their breakup.

Aaron being happy was the one thing Robert wanted most in this world, especially after he´d been the one to hurt him so badly. It was why he had backed off in the end. Why he´d stopped fighting. Still, it was nice to know he wasn´t alone in his heartbreak.

“So? Out with it,“ Leyla interrupted his thoughts. A reminder that maybe he wasn´t actually completely alone in it anyway, unless he and his self-destructive tantrums had managed to ruin this as well.

He looked at her then and could feel the way her eyes were searching his face for an answer. Honesty had never been Robert´s strong suit, especially when it came to talking about his feelings, but this was Leyla asking and the two of them had somehow built a relationship over the past few months that was pretty much based entirely on that. Honesty. (Well, that and their shared passion for all the finer things in life that most of the villagers didn´t appreciate in the way the two of them thought they should.)

This thing between them had started one night in the shop, under Eric´s pitying glance, Robert still hesitant to enter the pub, especially once Chas had returned from Ireland. Both of them had been nursing a glass of wine at seperate tables, trying and failing to drown their heartbreak in alcohol. It had only been a few days since Pete and Leyla´s wedding had been harshly interrupted by a sobbing Priya, trying to protect her best friend from a life with a cheating husband.

They had shared a few looks over the rims of their glasses, before Leyla had come over and sat down across from him. She´d given him a small grin that hadn´t managed to reach her slightly puffy eyes - still red from what had to have been days of crying in Vanessa´s arms - and informed him that they were going to wallow and drink together, if only to feel and look a little less pathetic. And Robert had agreed. Mostly because the only people he´d spent time with outside of work over the past week had been Diane and Doug and he had desperately needed an escape from conversations about cabbage and the impending arrival of his son.

After Eric had kicked them out, they had found their way onto the sofa at Tug Ghyll, still talking. All their pent-up emotions pouring out of them with the help of their second shared bottle of expensive white wine that they had drunkenly managed to nick from the shop.

And god, had it helped. Both of them.

So there was no point in lying to her now.

“We got engaged a year ago today,” Robert explained and the words out of his mouth felt like a punch to the gut. Leyla´s eyes widened in realisation, but Robert was talking again before she could get a word in.

“Come to think of it, almost drowned a year ago today as well. Bit of a day that was,” Robert cleared his throat and gave her a weak smile, to no avail trying to conceal the uncomfortable weight those memories always prompted in the pit of his stomach with humour. Words failing her, Leyla only shuffled closer to him and pressed herself against Robert´s side, her arm wrapping around his waist in the hope of lending some comfort.

“For a minute there, after he woke up and said yes, you know...For a minute I thought I had it all figured out,” he continued, “and now look at me...“ the words were tumbling from his mouth in quick succession, barely understandable as he mumbled them into his scarf, his tone strained with emotion.

Leyla understood him nonetheless. She always did. Both of them were far too familiar with each other´s emotional outbursts at this point for her not to. She didn´t say anything, only laying her hand on top of the one that Robert had resting on his knee, her pink nailpolish a stark contrast against his pale skin.

“It´s pathetic, isn´t it?” he grumbled, clearly angry with himself, “Look at you! You´re so much better at dealing with this than I am and you´re not the one who ruined it all. You´d actually deserve to-” But Leyla wouldn´t even let him finish that sentence.

“I´m pretty sure the two buckets of ice cream you and me killed together the other night would like to differ,” she countered, unwilling to let Robert spiral into self-hate, the way it seemed to have become second nature to him whenever Aaron came up in conversation.

He couldn´t help but smile at that and let Leyla intertwine their fingers, her thumb drawing small, soothing circles across the back of his hand.

“I didn´t even think. Sorry,” Leyla mumbled apologetically a moment later, “I should have remembered,“ she chastised herself, eyes big and brown and full of a warmth and understanding Robert didn´t think he deserved.

Robert shook his head. “No, you shouldn´t have.“

“True. You should have told me.“

Regardless of what half the village was gossiping about behind their backs, when they thought neither of them was listening, Robert and Leyla weren´t a couple . They were something though. Something between friends and a “more” that neither of them felt ready for. Yet.

Which is why Robert knew that she was right. He should have told her.

Instead, in typical Robert Sugden fashion, he´d snapped at her that afternoon when she had started to go off on one about having caught Pete and Priya shamelessly making out in front of the pub on her way home from work. If Robert had been in a better mood, he would have joined her in her anger, before coming up with a good distraction. Like a Desperate Houswives boxset or maybe a nice dinner in Hotton. Instead, he´d stormed out of Ghyll´s, but not before letting her know that she should just get over herself, because it was pathetic enough that her inner clock was apparently ticking so loudly that she´d fallen for a dull nitwit like Pete in the first place. Yeah, definitely not one of his proudest moments.

“I´m sorry. For not telling you and for-“

”I know you are,” Leyla replied, not needing him to spell it all out, “just make sure it doesn´t happen again.“ Robert nodded, feeling the knot that had been sitting in his stomach all day finally loosening, if only just a bit.

“I´ll make it up to you,” he promised.

“Yes you will,“ she retorted, giving him a slight nod. Combined with her raised eyebrow and the challenging look she gave him, it was enough to let him know that there was already a nice new pair of shoes with her name on it sitting in a shelf somewhere, only waiting to be picked up by Robert during their next trip into town.

“Just... next time,“ Leyla added in a more serious tone ,“don´t take it out on me, alright?“ She looped their arms together and pulled him closer to her side, so that she could rest her head on his shoulder. “Talk to me instead,” she softly scolded him, ”we both don´t need this.“ And she was right. After the couple of months the two of them had had, they really didn´t.

Cuddled together and lost in thought, they fell into a fairly comfortable silence. Much more so then the one they´d endured when Leyla had joined him on the steps just a little while earlier.

That was until Robert´s stomach growled loudly.

“Hungry?” Leyla asked, looking up at him.

Robert´s mouth curved into a small smile, the first honest one of the day. “Maybe,” he admitted. As if on queue, Leyla pulled two sandwiches from the bag she´d brought along from David´s.

“Hummus and coriander?” Robert asked.

“Obviously it´s hummus and coriander. Who do you think I am?” Leyla countered, handing him the sandwich, and her breath puffed a small cloud into the cold autumn air.

They ate quietly next to each other, Leyla still curled against Robert´s side, just enjoying each other´s company. In the silence, Robert´s attention turned back towards the trees. The wind was still blowing leaves off of the breech, but now, in the dark orange glow of the setting sun, it made for a far prettier picture than it had just an hour ago.

Maybe the falling leaves could also be a metaphor for something else. For letting the things that were dragging him down go and for moving on. For making room for something new and beautiful in his life. Not tomorrow. Not right away. But somewhere down the line. It could be a metaphor for setting himself up for a fresh start, some light and happiness.

His eyes fell on Leyla then, who looked up at him and smiled, her eyes bright and her cheeks pink with the cold.

Yeah, he thought, as he took another bite from the sandwich, maybe they could be a metaphor for that.

#robert x leyla #leyla harding #robert sugden #emmerdale #lorna and malorie are the only two people who are going to care about this #but whatever #here have some pre-relationship reyla #still haven´t fully figured out how to write leyla but we´re getting there #the fact that i like this way more than anything i´ve written for robron in a while is a bit depressing though #also i´m obsessed with that acoustic version of guillotine and you should listen to it #sometimes i write stuff

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snesdudes · 4 years

Text

PLEASE FORGIVE ME

Pairing: Lucas x MC

Prompt: Lucas’ apology to MC after he switches to Blake is out of character and just downright shitty. As well as the islanders behaviours when Blake arrives. Had to fix it!

It was a beautiful night. From the roof terrace, there seemed to be a million stars, and the moon was full – somehow it seemed to be bigger than it looked back home. It was a shame Lucas couldn’t relax and enjoy the view… But he was the only one to blame.

A shaky breath left his lips as his hands gripped the balustrade, his knuckles turning white and his head hanging low. You will come up there at any minute and he would have to face the aftermath of his mistake, look at you in the eyes and explain why he decided to break your heart. He had to think about what to say, how to express his feelings properly to make you understand and, with luck, open a little the door to forgiveness.

But every time he closed his eyes, he could only see your face. Your skin illuminated by the firepit light, your lower lip slightly trembling and your eyes opening wide and starting to well up as you saw him arrive with another girl by his side. It felt like the floor beneath him have disappeared when he saw the empty space beside you.

I thought we had something special… I just don’t get it. What about everything we said before? We were going to work things out. I thought this was something we both wanted.

You jaw had clenched and tears fell from your eyes, your fingers quick to wipe them out. And he stood there, talking nonsense while his brain couldn’t process what had happened, while Blake stepped up and in no time she was telling everyone to not compare her with you, since you always had to try so hard to look good and how you weren’t his type. And he couldn’t speak. He was frozen.

You had taken a step towards Blake and Lottie had taken your arm to hold you back, loudly saying how it wasn’t worth it. Your face was red and he was sure he had never seen you so angry. It had been the first time he had seen Chelsea looking genuinely annoyed as well, as she walked to stand beside you.

“I just thought there were some similarities!” The blonde had screeched, her voice suddenly louder and wobbly. There was a cold tone in her voice as she continued. “I was awfully wrong. You don’t even know her, hun.”

“It was a bad comparison.” Lottie practically growled. “But they say you’re making it in life once people start to imitate you, right?” Her hand was gripping yours and he could see how strongly you were holding to one another.

Chelsea linked her arm with yours and looked at Blake with a frown and Lucas saw the gratitude on your eyes. Priya let out a laugh and left Noah’s side, striding towards you, briefly staring Blake up and down with loathing before standing between you and Blake.

“You really should be more careful with who you try to insult, babes.” Priya snarled, tossing her hair above her shoulder and linking her arm with Chelsea’s.

Gary and Bobby stood beside you as well, comforting hands on your shoulders, and icy looks on their eyes, and he watched as your body relaxed softly, all this time still tense and ready to have a go at Blake if another word left her mouth. Blake seemed to notice half of the Villa was looking at her with hatred and stepped back, taking his hand.

Lucas had realized he had to take Blake awake from the tension before the girls ate her alive. You were probably the most loved person of the Villa, your friends hurrying to step up for you was the proof. You had devoted yourself to make everyone’s time in the Villa more peaceful and fun, helping everybody and listening to their problems, playing mediator and making them all feel better. Being a true friend.

He walked away as your friends formed a wall around you, hugging you and murmuring soothing words, and his heart broke beyond repair as he heard a sob cut through the night. He couldn’t go back. He needed to get Blake out of there. Also, if he had gone back, Gary and Bobby would have probably made sure he couldn’t get to you. They had been giving him the silent treatment all day long, since he said he was going to switch. Gary had broken a cup when he slammed it against the counter stronger than he wanted to. Bobby had stared at him open mouthed for a moment before the both of them started yelling at him how stupid he was being, that he was a fool, a tool, an idiot…

“You’re so gonna regret this decision, mate.” Bobby had finally murmured, more sad than angry, when they realized they couldn’t talk some sense into him.

And he was right.

He was so lost in thought he didn’t hear the clicking of your heels as you climbed the stairs to find him. You stood there for a moment, looking at him and trying to swallow the tears that were about to slide down again. Lucas hadn’t noticed you yet.

A part of you had been worried this might happen all the time you were away. Lucas came off as someone confident and strong, but the days you had been coupled up gave you the feeling he was actually quite insecure. And while you knew he had feelings for you, the right words would make him doubt about your relationship. Not about how he felt towards you, but about how you felt towards him.

The brief moment you had met Blake was enough for you to know she was a proper snake. She had apologized to you, and a moment later she tried to humiliate you in front of everyone. While your friends stood up for you, your eyes found Lucas’ face. He looked so lost, so shocked, it took you a moment to understand he was sure you had found someone else. That was even harder to look at than the moment your eyes landed on Blake.

Now on the roof terrace, he looked like a mess. You could see he had run his hands through his hair multiple times, since it was tousled and that wasn’t usual. His head hung low and you couldn’t see his expression, but his shoulders were trembling ever so slightly. Your initial anger had dissipated, but the hurt wouldn’t leave so easily.

“Hey.” You murmured softly, Lucas head snapping up and looking at you with wide eyes. He seemed speechless again, but you couldn’t find the strength in you to make this easy for him. You walked towards the terrace’s couch and sat down, softly patting the place beside you and he hurried to obey.

“I needed to clear my head a bit.” He almost whispered, you wouldn’t had heard him if he wasn’t right beside you. The familiar scent of you – a mixture of perfume, sun cream and body milk, all of it kind of fruity, hit him with the strength of a hammer. He had missed you so much. He just wanted to hold you and kiss you and never be far from you again – but he had lost that privilege.

“Were you thinking about me?” You asked, a small smile on your lips.

Jesus. She’s smiling at me after what I did to her. I don’t deserve this.

A smile of his own paired yours. “Straight to the point. Alright…”

Your expression didn’t falter when he told you about the video the boys had gotten, and it remained as stoic when you told him you would do the same again since you had followed your heart. He felt like a piece of shit.

I am a piece of shit.

You took one of his hands in yours. “Lucas, you’re not.” Did he say that out loud?! “I just wish you would have found the strength in yourself to trust me.”

“It wasn’t about trust.” He was avoiding your gaze, while you were dying for him to look at you. “That video made it look like you were having the time of your life. I suddenly felt as if I was weighing you down, and that you probably realized that while you were away. I kept hearing Blake saying it would be safer to switch, that I would look like a fool if you came back with another lad –”

So Blake messed with his head. Figured as much.

“And I’m the one who actually looked like a fool.” You tried to extract your hands from his, but he grabbed them tighter, alarmed, looking up at you. His eyes glistened.

“No, I’m pretty sure I managed to do that myself anyway. I am so sorry. I understand if you want me out of here, and to be honest, I wouldn’t be surprised if I get kicked out by the audience --”

“That’s not what I want, Lucas. I need you to know something, anyway.” You took a deep breath. “I stayed loyal to you all the time.” His heart hammered so loudly he was afraid you might hear it as well. “The guys grafted hard on me, you probably saw that, and I turned them down as nicely as I could. The only time I got close to any of them was during the challenge… The very same challenge where you kissed Blake. In fact, I asked Hope to send it to me –”

He was caught off guard and you managed to let go of his hands, he quickly missed their warmth, but you only pulled out your phone and handed it to him, a video playing.

He cringed all through the video, unable to believe just how fixed it was to make them all look like unfaithful assholes. Except Bobby (and well, Rahim, who had actually found someone) the rest of them seemed to be all crazy about the new girls, his awkward, way too long, horrible kiss with Blake manipulated to make it seem like they were terribly into it with the others cheering at them. It even seemed Noah had cheated, the video barely showing Jakub at all.

“And you still…” His voice broke.

“Chose you? Yeah.” You murmured. You both remembered the night in the Hideaway when you both said you chose each other.

“Will you ever forgive me?” He asked, his voice low. Your hand found his cheek and he shuddered slightly at the touch, leaning in to you.

“You still hurt me, Lucas.” Your voice trembled slightly and he wanted to punch himself. “I understand why you acted like that. But if you ever want this –” You gestured between the two of you “to work, you gotta believe in me. Believe in us.”

He swallowed as your lips momentarily found his, caressing them softly before pulling away.

“I want to. I will try, as hard as I can, if you give me another chance. Please.”

You kissed him again, a little harder this time, but still wary enough, he didn’t get to deepen the kiss before you pulled away again. He sighed with frustration.

“You are with Blake now.” A dangerous glint sparkled through your eyes. When you were close like this, he felt that familiar sensation, his stomach flipping and his breath faltering, the effect you had on him making him dizzy. “So we shouldn’t really be doing this.”

He recognized the playful tone in your voice and slid his arms around your waist, pulling you closer to him and crashing his lips against yours. Lucas’ kisses always stole your breath away, his familiar touch making you growl with happiness into the kiss as his tongue danced along your lower lip. You bit on his lip and pressed your body against his, earning a snarl from him which made you moan as heat surged through your body. He moved his lips towards your neck, leaving a trail of kisses, before you put a hand against his chest and pushed him away. Lucas looked at you, pupils blown and mouth agape, as you stood up, ready to leave.

That would teach him to never do something like this again.

“I don’t give a fuck about Blake!” He quickly spoke. “It’s not like there’s something between us. I don’t care. You’re the only one for me. I only care about you. I only want you.” He started to get up, but your sweet smile stopped him, as it oozed danger in a way he couldn’t describe.

“Good.” You winked at him. “Cause I’m going to fucking destroy her.”

#i did a thing #i MEAN #it's just not fair how everyone just keeps quiet am i right?#also lucas is really into mc to just give that lameass apology #litg lucas #lucas koh #love island the game #love island the game lucas #lucas x mc #litg

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