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niennandil-me-writes · 8 months

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if you were penitence i'd repent every day of my life

cn: burning as penitence, religious indoctrination, emotional manipulation, guilt tripping, cults, discussed child murder

[Taking place after the Dwarfen Deviance oneshot run by Linda. Alejandro, who is mentioned briefly, belongs to @ghoulcaro.]

The room was veiled in shadows. The lights burning throughout the room – candles, lanterns, open basins of oil set aflame – only seemed to enhance the darkness of the walls, painted a very dark blue, like the sky at midnight. Like the world was dark and filled with sin, only to be brightened by the flame of the righteous, so was this room. It showed a certain humility, Priya found.

She was kneeling, eyes lowered to the dark marble floor. Right in front of her, the floor rose by one step to a dais. This room had once been the eating hall of the residence. Now that the stronghold served as a makeshift temple, it was the heart and hearth of it. The room might not have been open to the sky – safe for the draped windows – but the fires were kept burning. This was where the Cleansing Flame resided. She stood at the center of the room, in front of her throne: a white chair beset with crystal and covered in candles burning with white purity.

Her eyes cast down in deference, Priya recounted what had happened during her travels under the Flame’s mission. She paid particular attention to mention the names of every influential person she had talked to and helped in their troubles, especially the Dwarves of Goldcrest, which she had helped save from invasion. When she finished her tale, it was silent for a while, save for the clear crackling of the flames. With every second, Priya became more worried.

“You have done good,” said the Flame finally. “I am proud of you, Priya.”

Priya sighed in relief.

“Your good deeds have earned us some powerful potential allies,” the Flame went on. “Yes, I think we can work with this. You have done very good indeed.”

It wasn’t just the fire that made her cheeks feel warm. She couldn’t help a satisfied smile to twist itself on her lips for a second, before she suppressed it in shame. Pride was a sin. Not one of the big ones that warranted intervention in most people. But Priya wasn’t most people. She was a disciple of the Cleansing Flame, a knight in pursuit of purity, and as such, she had to reach higher standards. She was glad she had her face lowered so her Lady couldn’t spot this temporary loss of humility.

“I am happy to have served you well, my Lady,” she said.

Priya heard the sound of naked footsteps, as the Flame walked around the dais, which meant she was thinking over what Priya had told her. For a while she was quiet again, deep in thought. As she hadn’t been excused or given a new task, Priya remained where she was, kneeling on the ground.

Then suddenly, the Flame’s clear voice broke the silence again: “Do you know why the fire hurts most beings, despite being a power of good?”

Priya, taken aback by the sudden change in topic, needed a few seconds to answer: “Because the mortal body cannot withstand the force of purity and goodness,” she recited what she had learned at the temple. “Like the light, though revealing and necessary for our sight, burns the eye when looked directly into, the fire, cleansing and life-giving though it is, burns the body at direct contact.”

“You have done your studies well,” the Flame lauded her. “As I would expect of a knight of the Flame. A good answer. Though it is not correct. Not entirely.” She walked to the other side of the room, then stopped, probably in front of one of the burning oil pits, which she liked to hold her hand into. “Why, for example, does it not hurt me?”

“Because you are an incarnation of the Flame itself?” It was more a question than an answer.

“Again, almost right,” mused the Flame. “As an avatar of the Flame, of purity itself, I am free of sin. And that is the root of it all: sin. Through some cruelty of the universe, it is growing everywhere, taking hold of every single mortal person, like a weed in an otherwise beautiful garden. As servants of the Flame, it is your mission – yours and that of your fellow believers – to burn out that sin, like the weed in the garden needs to be burned so the earth and light and water might benefit the prettier and more useful plants growing there. And as the ground will be torn up and the grass burnt, as an addict will feel the terror of withdrawal, as a sick person getting their rotting leg amputated, the removal of sin will hurt the sinners. Must hurt them, really, if anything is to come of it.”

Sudden realization hit Priya. “My lady, I – “

“Why didn’t you burn the girl?” the True Incarnation of the Cleansing Flame of Salvation asked her knight.

Priya swallowed. The thought of having disappointed her mistress pained her. And yet... “She was just a child, my Flame. Barely more than 14.”

“Old enough to sin. Old enough to repent.”

“I didn’t want to upset my traveling companions.” That was only half a lie, and therefore only filled her with double the shame. Priya had been silently grateful when Alejandro had intervened. His words had rung true, then. Perhaps too much so. Uncomfortably so.

The footsteps came closer, until the Flame stood at the edge of the dais, right in front of Priya, who closed her eyes in shame.

“Look at me, Priya.”

Priya did as she was told, blinking away the tears that had formed in her eyes. She looked up at the center of her world, standing there in all her glory. The Flame’s skin was grey, freckled like spots of ash. Half of her long white hair was bound in a tight bun from which red rays of metal protruded like rays of the sun haloing her head. The other half streamed down her back and on the sides of her face like silver flames. Her hanfu was white as well. Aside from the headpiece, the only color on her were the streaks of dark red on her lips and around her eyes.

She looked like a queen, and more than that. She looked like a Goddess, and she was exactly that. She was the most beautiful, most perfect being Priya had ever laid eyes on, and that she would have the honor to be her personal guard, her knight, her confidant, filled her with pride and awe and sorrow. Priya wanted to throw herself at her feet and kiss them.

“My Flame,” she whispered, a prayer and a plea.

“I know you think your refusal to make her repent an act of mercy.” Her perfect lips formed the words with absolute precision. “But sometimes kindness is much crueler than disdain.” She turned her eyes to the drapes hanging from the ceiling, face clouded by memory. “Do you remember when that plague washed over the Temple, when we were both much younger?”

“Yes, my Lady,” Priya answered.

“The children were hit the hardest, poor things. Our healers mixed a medicine, but a lot of the children refused it due to its bitter taste. Now tell me, would it have been kind of the healers to spare them the short suffering of bitter medicine?”

“Of course not,” Priya said.

And before she could say anything else, the Flame continued: “And in the same way, it wasn’t kind of you to spare the girl her penitence.”

“The children would have died without the medicine,” Priya said. “And the girl would have died if I had burned her. Like the orcs died from Flaming Salvation.” She put her hand to the hilt of her sword, remembering how she had torn it through the bodies.

“The orcs you gave to the fire, that their cleansed spirits may become one with the Flame,” the incarnation explained. “While the girl remains a sinner, traveling the lands to hurt more people, only to die a sinner’s death and be swallowed by darkness. Is that kindness?”

“No, my Lady.” Priya lowered her eyes again. “I understand my mistake now.” And she truly did, now that the Flame had explained it to her. Alejandro’s words, which had kept her awake for days, lost all meaning in the enlightened words of the Flame. Especially his question whether she had done bad things in the name of her beliefs. Whether they were any less bad because she was an initiate of the Flame. Now that she was home, in the safety of the fire, she understood that he didn’t understand at all. Couldn’t understand, as a non-believer. And that was forgivable because he simply didn’t know better. But Priya should. How she ever could have doubted the Flame, she didn’t know.

“Forgive me, my Flame,” she said, humbled. “I have failed in my duties as your servant.”

“I understand,” said the Flame in her never-ending mercy. “Though you did wrong, you did so out of kindness.” She held out her hands, and for a moment Priya believed, hoped, she would take her head between them to comfort her. “Misplaced kindness has always been your weakness. But you will learn. You are a good student, and an invaluable asset to me.”

“Thank you, my Flame.”

“But there is still one thing.” The Flame’s voice surged in volume. Priya looked up at her in fear and love. “By sparing the girl’s life, you took her unburned sins onto your otherwise righteous shoulders. A servant of the Flame – a servant of me – cannot do their work laden with sin like this.”

Priya swallowed, anticipating and dreading her Lady’s next words.

“Remove your armor, my good knight,” spoke the Flame. “I shall cleanse you myself.”

Not wanting to waste a second, Priya immediately stood and set about doffing her armor, unclasping the straps, slipping out of the metal plates and carefully setting them down. When it all lay neatly sorted beside her, she removed the padded shirt as well, and then finally pulled the sweat-stained linen undershirt over her head. The wounds of her travels had not yet fully healed. Gashes and bruises, but her Lady’s eyes lingered on the burn marks. Priya lowered her head to hide her reddened cheeks. Again, she knelt in deference and humility.

“My Lady,” Priya said, voice trembling like a candleflame in the wind. “I, humble servant of the Flame, ask to receive penitence. Let my body be cleansed of wickedness and sin by the light of your grace.”

The Flame heard her prayer, a slightly modified version of the most common penitence call of the temple, which Priya had learned it when she was 8, when the answer had just been hot wax dripped on her arms. But with adulthood came greater responsibility, and greater sin.

She didn’t scream out as the burning hands of her mistress set on her shoulders. She had learned to bear them long ago. She had loved them even before that. Beneath that searing burn lay a warmth that took her back to a place long ago, a barren sleeping chamber shared by two acolytes. Back when things were warmer and less hot. When the Flame would touch her not just for penitence’s sake, laying beside her in a shared bed, unaware of the way Priya looked at her, Priya who was drowning in the silver of her eyes and hair and skin. She had known that Bai was a Goddess even then, before the visions started, before Bai stopped being just Bai, before the intrigues and schemes and exile. She would have dropped to her knees and prayed to that beauty even back then, when she’d have thought it to be blasphemy, and sometimes she wished she’d have done so, making that girl her personal Deity, whom she didn’t have to share with other followers or conspirators. Maybe, Priya thought in her most heretic moments, if her prayers had just been enough, none of this need have happened. And maybe if her devotion was enough to the Flame now, she could abandon her plans of vengeance and conquest, become Bai once more, and stay here, not as a Goddess, but as the noblewoman she appeared to be. Maybe, just maybe, that could be enough...

All of those thoughts were firmly locked away in the confines of Priya’s mind. They were unspeakable, they were heresy. They were sin.

Hot tears ran down Priya’s cheeks, evaporating before they could hit the floor. The Flame’s hands had wandered down her arms. Priya swallowed a whimper. The Flame leaned forward, strands of flame escaping her hair to drape over and burn Priya’s back. Her heat swallowed her body, and then another heat took hold of her, rising to her cheeks and other places. A thought managed to escape, that the Flame’s hands might wander farther down...

Priya bit her lip, hoping the Flame didn’t notice. As a knight of the Flame, she was sworn to celibacy, sworn off all the worldly pleasure that might distract her from her task. How heinous then, to have these kinds of thoughts, even as she was doing penitence? And to have those wishes of her Deity! This, she knew, was not a believer’s love to her Goddess, nor a knight’s love to her Lady. It was something else, less pure, and more wicked. This was her biggest sin and downfall, and one she couldn’t even repent for, as she would have had to reveal it to the Flame first, and she couldn’t, not if she wanted to stay with her, and feel her touch again.

She tried to focus on the pain, but that just made it worse because with the pain came the touch of her fingers. So many hours Priya had spent worrying if her penitence even counted for anything if she was enjoying it, if that didn’t make it a bigger sin, a mockery, a treason. And so she didn’t feel cleansed when the Lady drew away, taking her warmth and heat with her.

“I have freed you of sin,” said the gracious voice of the Cleansing Flame. “Do you feel lighter already?”

“Yes, m’lady,” Priya lied in a flustered murmur.

“Then go forth and sin no more,” continued the Flame. “And don’t try to carry other people’s weight on your shoulders again. Your burden is heavy enough.”

Her voice was soft, an absolution. Priya sighed in relief and was surprised to hear it come out as a sob.

“Look at me, Priya.” This time it sounded soft instead of harsh.

Priya blinked the tears away and beheld her Deity’s face once more, beautiful but no longer terrifying.

“I know I expect a lot of you, my sweet” (Priya hid her gasp with another sob) “but I only do so because you are the one I trust most in the world.” There was a sadness around her eyes that Priya wished she could take away. “You saved my life, Priyanshi. You have never failed me. The Flame burns within you as well.” Once again, Priya thought she would take her hand, but once again, she just gestured to Priya’s hands, the extra fingers, to her person, and then to Flaming Salvation, the sword with which Priya had cut down the conspirators coming for the Flame’s life. “It is for those reasons that I care for you. And I don’t want to know you weighed down by sin unbecoming of you.”

Again, Priya blushed, even more ashamed of the sins she kept hidden. “I would carry any burden for you, my Flame,” she said hastily. “To hell and back. If that’s what you asked.”

“I fear that I will ask for that,” said the Flame. “If I am to reclaim my temple and its people.”

“It is awaiting your return. And I will do whatever I can to bring it about, and more,” Priya said, when what she wanted to say was: “I am yours, my Flame. Do with me as you please, but please, please, touch me, hold me, make me yours.” But like a pious servant, she remained silent, and the Flame, after speaking her last blessings over Priya and her weapons, excused her.

Priya walked down the stone hallways to her room and spent the next hours polishing her spotless armor and sword to put off sleep and dreams she knew would be filled with sin.

#my writing #oc writing #priyanshi varma #the flame #religious guilt #religious indoctrination

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ace-with--a-mace · 2 years

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from the official voice of tae young, grayson villanueva on tiktok

#answered priyas burning question #turning red #4 town #4*town #4town #pixar turning red #tae young #taeyoung #robaire #jesse #aaron t #aaron z #l speaks #shut up l

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helpforihavefallen · 2 years

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I need a Priya x fem!reader oneshot or smth- PLS

I got you! Enjoy reading ig-

warnings: none, my possible typos

Priya x Fem!Reader

...

Who gave her a permission to be this gorgeous?

Was she allowed to look at her like this?

"Earth to y/n, earth to y/n. Miriam zero one is calling for y/n."

"Huh?"

y/n was rudely awoken from her thoughts by her friend Miriam who now had a pout on her face as she noticed y/n hasn't been listening at all.

"Listen girl i'm saying this with all my love, but you have been acting like a straight up zombie lately," The girl spoke, putting weight in the love word as she was calling her friend out, now having her full attention.

y/n was practically sweating rocks as Miriam stared at her, waiting for the answer. It was not like the girl has been doing anything illegal or weird, it’s just that one individual has been stealing her heart very succesfully.

Her eyes slowly went away from Miriams burning stare to a girl behind her. She was truly like a goddess. y/n let out a sigh and then quickly laughed, swinging her arms around, “Come on Mir you know me. I have been nose deep in the 4town story i’m writing. Might have missed couple nights to that-”

The taller girl let out a suspecting ’hm’ before clapping her hands together, ”You have to let me read it when it’s ready!”

Y/n continued the conversation with Miriam, excitedly blabbering about the story, but not long after she found herself staring at her crush again. She couldn’t help it really. The way she always seemed to be in her own world, the way her hair would fall on her face when she was focused on reading. It seemed like she was once again sucked into a world of Nightfall.

”Ayyy Priya!”

Miriam yanked y/n with her towards their friend as she spotted the quiet girl ahead of them, greeting her with a hip bump, ”what’s good?”

Priya smiled tiredly and answered to the question, closing the book in her hand to give the pair her full attention.

”You know. Stuff,” was her simple answer and Miriam shook her head with a chuckle but before she could answer Priya turned to the other one, ”Sick outfit y/n. I like it.”

Y/n’s cheeks practically started to glow crimson as she received the compliment. She crossed her arms and stepped back a bit in hopes her friends wouldn’t notice the blush, ”nah girl but your outfit is mint today.”

”Y/N, MIRIAM AND PRIYA SPOTTED!” A very familiar yell echoed through the hallway as Abby and Mei ran towards the trio, the shorter one on the lead with her arms stretched out ready to lock the closest one in the hug. And that someone just happened to be y/n.

Abby jumped up and y/n shrieked but it was too late. The girl was already tackled into a powerful hug which ended up the pair to fall into the ground with a loud thud. Everyones loud laughter filled the area as they greeted each other, Abby still very much clinging into her friend. Y/n blinked for a good minute, progressing what just happened until her eyes landed on Priya who was holding in laughter, eyes shut tightly and a wide smile on her face as she tried to hide it behind the book.

Y/n felt her cheeks burn yet again as she stared at the girl. How perfect could she be. But she quickly composed herself and turned to look at Abby who was grinning, ”Sup Abby.”

The chubbier girl let out an excited noise and quickly got up, immediately starting to explain whatever news she might have. Y/n got up as well, helped by Mei as she chuckled at the scene. The pair started listening to Abbys story. Apparently Devon has once again come to the barber shop yesterday and his hair still remained as soft as it was before. Y/n rolled her eyes at the story, chuckling as she turned her head away from her friend just to get greeted by the yet so familiar tired ones, curiously looking at her direction.

But when Priya realized that y/n has caught her staring, she quickly looked away, keeping the tired expression on her face, but there was ever so small blush on her cheeks as she watched Abby who was still deep in her story. Y/n turned away from the girl as well but her mind was racing. Was Priya blushing because of her? She was anything but certain, but one thing that she knew was that she couldn’t go on like this. She had to tell her.

She was going to tell Priya she liked her.

...

There she was, sitting beside her with her eyes glued on the computer before them with a grin. Y/n has asked Priya to come to her house to play games and go over with the story she was writing. Of course her friend immediately said yes with an excited spark in her usually tired eyes, but it was all just a set up so y/n could confess to her in a safe place. Then again the girl was still on edge by the whole thing, what if it will ruin their friendship? What if it went horribly? What if-

“How did you even get the sims? Isn’t it like- super expensive?” Priya exclaimed, looking away from the screen before them with raised eyebrows.

“I have my ways-”

“You begged until your parents got sick of it?”

“I used the ‘at least i’m not doing anything illegal like the others’ excuse.”

“Neat.”

Y/n smiled as Priya raised her hand to a small high-five before turning back to the game again, creating the characters for the gameplay and soon a small chuckle left from her lips. Y/n raised her eyebrows and looked at the screen and she let out an amused ‘HA’. Priya created them as the best she could with 4town and some characters from nightfall as well. They didn’t quite look like them, but it was the thought that counts, “This. is. the best household in the history of households.”

The pair laughed and started playing, creating drama and fighting with the townies, without realizing that hours passed since they first started. Not only has the other characters died already by every possible way there is, but sim y/n and Priya had ended up in a relationship and they were about to get married.

“We are like...couple goals.”

“Why did we put the graves in the backyard tho...”

Priya let out a laugh and paused the game, leaning back and yawning. There was a small smile on her lips as she turned to look at her friend. Y/n stared at her and smiled as well, but suddenly got up and stretched, “We need some fresh air. It’s already dark so it’ll be spookyy,” y/n let out a long ‘boo’ in the end, wiggling her fingers while laughing. Even Priya let out a small chuckle and stood up, nodding.

“You had me at spooky.”

The pair quickly made their way to the outside, sitting in the backyard and looking at he dark sky above them. They grabbed a couple of sodas from the fridge, yelling cheers as they knocked down the drinks quickly. Priya once again started to talk about nightfall and y/n chuckled. It was adorabled how passionate she was about the book. They talked for a while, just enjoying each others company but the weather was getting cold...quickly.

Y/n scooted closer to the girl, deciding this was it. She took a shaky breath as Priya looked forward, a shy smile on her lips. y/n moved her hand ever so slightly towards her friend, lightly brushing her fingers against hers. But as their fingers touched, they practically felt sparks between them and the girls turned to look at each other. Was this the moment she was waiting for? Y/n suddenly felt the overwhelming butterflies in her stomach and she looked down to her feet. Why was this so hard-

Before she could do anything else, she felt Priya grab her hand gently, looking down as well clearly embarrassed by what she was doing. Y/n eyes widened and she inhaled sharply before smiling. Her hand was warm. It felt safe.

“I like you Priya.”

Y/n finally blurted out the sentence she has been holding on, waiting for the other girl to answer as her eyes seemed to widen as well. But instead of saying anything right away, Priya moved closer to y/n, now pressed against her side. She slowly lowered her head on the girls shoulder, resting against her. Y/n didn’t say anything either. She was just happy to be close to her.

But soon she heard a small voice beside her as she felt her hand get squeezed into a tighter hold.

“I like you too y/n.”

#turning red #turning red priya #priya x reader #turning red imagines #turning red x reader #imagine #imagines #turning red priya x reader #oneshot #turning red oneshot

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djarrex · 3 years

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So I was wondering, how was rex and reader first kiss, and also the first time they’d slept together? I loved that story about how they met!! I’m genuinely curious

!!Yessssss :’)

Ok, so for anyone who hasn’t read their first meeting/first date, I’ll link it here. Previously, I had included a little bit of their first date in one of the main installments/chapters as a flashback scene during Priya’s birth and you can find that here.

Find the rest in the Post-Order 66 Rex ML

I’ll pick this up from when they’re riding in the taxi on the way to reader’s apartment (from flashback scene found in second link)

18+ only! dry humping, heavy makeout sesh, groping, non-descriptive sex, piv sex, maybe just a hint of ‘first time’ awkwardness but... y’know. overall, Rex is a caring sweetheart. about 2.9k words #Carried Away

<<<>>>

The back of Rex’s hand, the gauntlet plate, that is, lands on your bare thigh - his gloved palm upright and waiting, fingers relaxed. You can’t help your wide smile that grows upon noticing the gesture accompanied by his unsure, yet confident expression as you gladly lay your hand within his - fingers locking into place.

"Is... this okay?"

So considerate, appropriately cautious, cute.

You lock eyes with his, making it a point when your tongue barely darts out to wet your lower lip while giving his hand a reassuring squeeze. His lips curl at the corners - a little chuckle seeping through his nostrils before turning his head to watch the streaks of lights fly by outside the transparisteel. The ride isn’t very long, but it’s nearly silent. It must be late enough for the driver to have long surpassed the point of wanting to engage in light conversation, thankfully so, and the music is turned down to the lowest volume - just light pulse of a beat coming from the tiny speaker. The whir of the vessel gliding through the air lanes hums throughout the interior, along with the heavy beat of your heart in your ears. Your fingers stay intertwined with Rex’s the entire time. At one point, briefly, his thumb started to absentmindedly brush back and forth over the thick knuckle of yours, and caught himself when the the taxi slowed to halt as it pulled in front of your complex.

Rex scoots out first - extending his hand towards you and helping you out of the seat and onto the duracrete. As you lean into the taxi’s opening to toss the driver some credits, Rex watches the way you move - the way even the miniscule muscles flex underneath your form-fitting dress and with the movement of what skin is exposed. A sudden breeze catches him off guard when that familiar scent of lavender coming from your hair hits him just like it did back on the dancefloor. His own heart is pounding uncontrollably beneath the protective shell of plastoid, though he’s sure you can hear it. Your hearts mirror one another’s tonight - anxious, eager, sure, ready.

It's quiet after the taxi speeds off. It's late, and the two of you stand just outside the complex entrance in silence, facing one another and staring deep into each other's eyes. There’s a whole bunch being said, without any words actually being spoken. It’s insane the way Rex is just pulling you in without laying so much as a finger on you right now; his gravitational pull is far too strong for you to resist, not that you’re trying to resist. You want to get dragged into his orbit, burn up upon skirting through his atmosphere. That connection... it’s so noticeably there and it’s making your legs weak - weight settling in the back of your head, pushing you forward and closing the space between your faces. You know it’s affecting him just as it’s affecting you. There is no escape, though neither one of you is trying to flee.

“Is... this o-”

Rex is unable to echo his question from the taxi once the remaining space between the two of you quickly vanishes. When your lips meet his for the very first time, something just clicks - like two missing pieces from a puzzle that you didn’t even know were absent have just come together and completed it, effectively ending its drawn-out hiatus. You’re sure there are better analogies out there with deeper meaning but it’s hard to think with how wrapped up in him you’re becoming with something as simple as a ‘first kiss’. Your arms flying to wrap around his neck, Rex pulls you closer - his fingers gripping the fabric at your hips and holding you close. A heavy breath escapes from him and you take the opportunity to poke your tongue out to be immediately greeted by his own. It’s medium-paced; not desperate nor casual. The dance you share with the light clashing of teeth, the rhythm that’s set with every little movement of the muscles in your mouths - it’s just right.

When you move to break away, panting, your eyes quickly dart to the building standing tall to the right of you before they quickly return to his. An overt cue...

“Do you wan-”

...One of which Rex takes swift action.

“Yes.” Rex didn’t need for you to finish that line; he was already way ahead of you, and was somehow starting to believe you’d never ask. Any nerves of his have long since vanished, as well as any notion of sleep - other, more exciting things urging him on. He knows where he’ll be waking up in the morning, and it’s not on that bedroll in the barracks that he was practically dreaming of back at 79′s before he’d laid eyes on you. For once, the clone captain will allow himself to indulge in what this night holds.

The two of you are unable to keep your hands to yourselves during the brief ride in the lift up to your floor. Rex holds you impossibly close, hands pressed into your lower back and practically carrying your floating body through the corridors until arriving at your front door; you’d murmured the directions into his lips along the way. With your back pressed against it, your hand swings behind to blindly input the access code. After a few incorrect entries before hearing the musical awarded access, the door slides open, and your fingers wrap around the dip at the top of his cuirass - pulling him to follow you in. You make it as far as the couch, pushing him down to sit as you descend with him, your mouths staying connected in the process. Rex sinks into the cushions, and his hands begin rove your body experimentally from where you’re straddled over his armored lap. You’re melting into his touch, rocking yourself over the hardness of his codpiece, letting the curve of it rub into your clothed heat as his lips trail wet hot down your chin and jaw.

Never had you previously allowed a night like this to get as far with anyone else.

“I don’t...” Rex pauses as soon as the words leave you - lifting from your neck and meeting your eyes with a flash of concern sinking in his own. “I don’t usually do this, uh, sort of thing,” you elaborate quickly, your hands gesturing to the current situation - nervous, for some odd reason, even though your mind is very made up. His expression softens and a sweet smile creeps on his lips as he traces your own with the pad of his now bare thumb - the touch featherlight, admiring. “I just- just thought I should clear that up.” You’re not sure what it is exactly that you’re clearing up; perhaps you’re afraid that Rex thinks you’re one of those clone groupies, a woman who frequents 79′s to show her appreciation for the brave soldiers of the Republic. Or maybe that you’re someone who often fucks on the first date, just to be casted aside in the morning or the one who does the casting aside. The look he’s giving you, though, as he gazes up at you with something within his eyes that you can’t yet translate, is leading you to believe that he doesn’t put you into any of those categories - didn’t, from the very moment he’d laid eyes on you.

“Mesh’la,” he breathes against your jaw - the foreign-sounding word completely unknown to you but making you clench all the same - the shape of it forming on his lips and pressing into your tender skin. “The same goes for me. I... don’t wanna do anything that’ll scare you away.”

“And here I am thinking that I’m the one coming on too strong too fast,” you jest. Sure, it has only been a single, incomplete night of knowing him, but as silly and cliché as it sounds, it honest to Maker feels like you’ve known him forever. Normally, you’d conclude that allowing yourself to think that would more than likely end up biting you in the ass in the near future, but you truly don’t think that would be the case this time. Not with him.

“Rex...” Breaking from his lips for a breather and cradling the curve of his cheekbones within your hands, you look deep into his kind eyes, searching for the answer to the question you have yet to ask. “Have you ever...?”

“Yes, yes. It, uh, was always quick... when I did.” Rex chews his cheek - his brows pinching together in unwarranted contrition. “I’m sorry,” he sighs.

“For?”

“I don’t want you to think-”

You cut him off with the hard press of your lips to his - grinding yourself down on his lap with a little more purpose. Anything he was about to say, any inhibitions, dissolves like sugar inside your mouth. Minutes crawl by. Maybe longer, you’re unsure; too lost in this milky euphoria to give a damn about something as complex and currently unimportant as time. Your body is on fire; the heat that radiates from his flesh even from under the armor envelopes you in a different kind of warmth. You find your own hands mapping out the parts of his body that aren’t shelled by a plastoid exterior, landing on the piece that you’ve been grinding yourself on since arriving.

“Can I take this off?” Rex peers down at your hand laying over his codpiece; his perfect pout glistening, eyes darkening - the black orbs nearly swallowing the warm honey they reside in as he begins to look you over.

“Please.”

If it wasn’t already a known fact that you’d never done this with someone like him before, then the way your fingers fumble around the plastoid in a blind search for the clasp - or whatever is holding this Maker forsaken thing in place - sure as hell gives it away. Sensing your evident struggle, Rex’s hand brushes over yours and the hindrance is unfastened in an instant. You raise a brow at him, and he only grins as you lean down to kiss him again.

Rex stands - your arms and legs squeezing him as he walks you to the bed, his erection teasing with its firm press against you. Laying you down on your back, he watches as you shimmy off the rest of your clothing. His breath catches in his throat upon your removal of your bra, eyes widening and fingers drumming at his sides, and you have to urge him to unfreeze so he can finishing undressing and join you.

“I... really want this,” he informs through heavy breaths - a hint of sheepishness engrained within the gruffness - finally moving to climb on the bed between your legs after stripping nearly everything from him and stacking it all in a neat pile. “You. Really want you.” You smile - the gleam reaching your eyes - and grab his arm to pull him on top of you. He’s still wearing his under-armor bottoms, and your hand shamelessly trails down to palm at the hard bulge from above the skin-tight material.

“I want this too, Rex. You.” He groans - husky and deep - taking a few moments to relish the way your hand feels as you massage him before making quick work to remove the only thing that’s left covering his beautiful body.

It takes you by complete surprise - his extraordinary size. The way it was trapped within the compression bottoms was totally misleading. You swallow a clump of dry air - your tummy tingling and heart racing at the sight of him now completely nude and in the process of climbing back into position.

“Maker...”

You say the most prominent and immediate thought out loud, causing him to stop in his tracks.

“What? Is everything okay, is- is this okay?” Rex becomes mildly frantic, concerned - just about to climb away but you grab at his shoulder, fingers pressing into the toned, corded flesh where it curves into the base of his neck at the back.

“Yes,” you sigh - astounded. “I just... you’re, um...” Your eyes remain glued to the erect, throbbing appendage standing at attention between his legs, noting how it curves slightly upwards at the tip and is aimed at your clenching heat. “You’re big, Rex.” When your eyes flicker back up to his, his brow is raised and his lips are pressed into a thin line. Like he doesn’t already fucking know how well-endowed he is.

Shutting your eyes and sighing quietly, your face stings from the sound of your breathy voice uttering out such truism. He shifts his weight between the arms that are caging you in on either side and looks down at himself - considering.

“I - uh-”

“It’s okay,” you chuckle with a quick nod of your head as you spread your legs wider with a slight roll of your hips. Your mound briefly brushes the hot, velvety skin along his shaft when you lift your hips again. Your abdomen involuntarily tightens upon noticing the length of him hovering over you, practically marking how deep inside he’ll be. “I need you, Rex.”

You learn quickly that you needn’t repeat a thing to an esteemed captain of his merit.

He prepares you, like any true gentleman would, getting your body ready to accept him fully. Licking, touching, sucking, prodding; it’s all so exquisitely slow, intricate, surprisingly good for someone who has had little to no experience in the arena of foreplay. Thick fingers work you open in deep, pleasant strokes - his knuckles knocking into the most tender and pleasurable tissue with every pass. Rex’s lips go from attending to your breasts and trailing along nearly every inch of your skin before reuniting with your own. He inadvertently works a mild orgasm from you from his delicate tongue and purposeful touch alone - the build-up a soft crescendo until you’re moaning his name in the most breathy voice you’ve ever entertained.

You’ve never felt so safe and cared for during moments like these; now is a whole different experience than what you’d encountered in the past. You don’t have an extensive list of previous partners, but all of the ones who had made your short list were boys. Immature, needy, desperate boys. Boys who could never compare to the man who’s currently breaching you with a very gentle roll of his hips laced with all the care in the galaxy. Not to mention, his size. In that alone Rex is unmatched.

Your lips barely disconnect; the soft whimpers and moans shared between the two of you are breathed into one another and swallowed. You’ve never experienced anything so tender yet deliberate at the same time - the combination of soft meeting its opposite making your head spin and toes curling. Nails forming small crescents indenting into his skin, you hang on to Rex’s broad shoulders as he rocks into you. It’s a steady pace he sets right from the get-go and he keeps that all the way up until your second orgasm flows through you, consequently causing a hint of resistance put up by your clenching walls, affecting his length’s repeating reentry. Not much is said, but a lot is spoken through eye contact. Neither of you want this to end, but when it inevitably does, you’d want to do this again. You want to do more than this; you both want to see each other again. When he finishes, it’s the gravelly, drawn-out groan falling out of his throat that causes you to see the stars from where they’re hung outside Coruscant’s orbit as if you’re sitting directly in front of them, just an arm’s length away.

You’re cleaned up in such a meticulous and tender way that only Rex could provide. He falls to your side - taking you with him as his strong arms wrap around your torso. It’s insane; the way you fell into each other earlier this evening is comparable to fate itself. You think you’re going crazy, that you’re feeling all these things only after having known Rex for less than several hours, that you’re diving into something too hard and too quickly.

“Do you feel it, too?”

You don’t know what possessed you to ask him instead of keeping it locked up in your buzzing mind, still keyed up from the best sex you’ve ever had, but it’s out there. Unable to see his face from your position, your heart starts racing with nerves, and in the several moments of silence and lingering regret, you mentally curse at yourself for being so forward.

“Yeah,” Rex says with a soft smile evident in his tone - a huge weight being lifted from your shoulders and tossed aside. “I do.”

With that, his arms hold you just a little tighter and he places a chaste kiss on your temple. It’s not long before the sound of soft snoring fills the otherwise quiet bedroom, and minutes later you’re right there alongside him - content, fluttering heart and all.

<<<>>>

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#once again. I got Carried Away #post-order 66 rex #djarrex writes #inbox #Rex Gayiyla #captain rex x reader #captain rex x f!reader #captain rex smut #star wars fic #request(?)#request

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mynotsohealthyobsession · 3 years

Text

Unexpected bond

Book: Bloodbound (between book 2 and 3)

Pairing: Adrian Raines x Lily Spencer (friendship) / Mention of Adrian Raines x MC

Words: 1.960

Rating: Mature

Warning: Angst / Mention of violence, death and harassment

**Tags in the reblog**

His jacket was on the floor, where he had thrown it a couple hours ago. The sleeves of his shirt were rolled up as his forearms rested on his knees. He had his eyes shut and his back against the wall. His breathing was erratic and faltering, incapable of calming down. The powerful aura that he used to have, had completely disappeared, leaving him broken and defeated, looking as terrible as he felt inside. Whoever knew him beforehand and saw him at this moment, would doubt that that was actually the same Adrian Raines.

His hands had remnants of dried blood, the same that had coloured his white shirt, red. His body was still healing some wounds, cuts and a few broken bones, and bruises as result of their confrontation with Gaius. Every time he breathed, he felt a stinging pain in his chest but he couldn't care less. He had decided to not move from there no matter how long it took. Maybe she woke up before the expected, scared or disorientated. Maybe her bloodkeeper condition made it different for her and she needed some kind of help. Or maybe… Simply, he just couldn't leave her side. Whatever the reason was, he had decided to stay there, in Raines Corp.’s basement, near the sarcophagus in which, and he desperately hoped it was the case, Amy's body was changing, slowly transforming into a vampire.

As a couple of tears slipped on his cheeks, passing through the bloody print that her hand left on his skin as he held her, he couldn't avoid thinking how afraid he was of losing her, to face the world without her. Amy had saved them, after he had promised her he would protect her, she sacrificed herself for them. For him.

He squeezed his eyes tightly, letting his head fall back, against the wall. No matter how hard he tried, the images kept replaying over and over in his mind, in a horrible and constant loop. Amy taking the branch, getting close to Gaius. Her pained gasp as the sword went through her chest and emerged from her back. How his throat hurt from yelling her name, incapable of doing anything else but watch. The fire in her eyes, using the last of her strength to stab Gaius as her blood slipped down in the hilt of the sword onto Gaius' hand. Her little smile before she noticed that her knees gave up and hit the floor first as the rest of her body fell down. How quickly her skin became pale and cold as he held her, knowing that there was only one thing that could save her. How, mortally injured, she cupped his face, almost happy that they had 'won', even if right now it felt like he was about to lose everything that was important to him.

"Adrian?" His eyes flushed open, seeing Lily down the stairs. Her eyes puffy and bloodshot, all her usual energy and almost childlike happy mood, had disappeared. For the first time since he had met her, she seemed like an elderly woman who had lost against life itself. She sat beside him and offered him a pack of blood and what seemed to be a clean shirt.

"Thank you Lily, but I don't need it."

"You do." She gave him a broken look. "You think she would be okay seeing you still hurt?" She placed both things between them. "You are important to her, Adrian. She did what she did to save us. To save you."

"She shouldn't have done it! Now she's--" His voice abruptly cut, incapable to even put into words his fears and torments.

"I know." Lilly replied, distractedly fiddling with one of her rings. "But she's brave and her heart is bigger than anyone I've ever met." A pained smile lifted her lips a little. "Amy would never watch us die if she could avoid it. You know that." She fixed her stare on him, her voice a bit shattered. "Exactly like you or any of us would have done for her if the rolls were reversed."

"But I couldn't." His mind returned to the night before, when they had sleep holding each other. It felt so far away. "I promised her I would protect her no matter what and I couldn't. I failed her." It was the first time they shared this kind of conversation and time alone. It was obvious that Lily had a stronger relationship with Jax, like Adrian had with Kamilah. But, even if they were worried and sad too, right now, the pain Lily and Adrian were feeling, was different from theirs and had brought them together. "I should never have allowed her to get involved in this." To his surprise, she giggled.

"If you think you could have told her what to do, I'm sorry but you don't know her as well as you think." Adrian chuckled a bit alongside her. Lily was absolutely right about that.

"Did she ever tell you about the first time she saw me transformed, on her first day of work?" He wasn't sure why he asked her that. Probably because it was the moment that he realized that she would be special for him, even if he didn't know how much.

"Only a few parts."

"In almost 300 years a lot of people had learned the way she did about all this. And most… If not all of them, begged to forget, to return to their old lives." Despite himself, he smiled at the memory. "Amy… She just stood there. For a little while, she got scared, of course, but… She didn't run or scream. She started to ask me questions, curious, looking at me the exact same way she did all that day. Before her eyes, I was still… Me. She even joked about Nicole being dramatic during the feeding." He let out a sorrowful and shaking sigh. "I took her to Priya's fashion show and she told the security that she was my partner instead of my assistant." They both softly laughed.

"I think she had a crush with you almost instantly." Lily crossed her legs under her. "That night, before returning to the office, we chatted a bit. When I asked her about how you were, her answer was, and I'm quoting here 'super hot'." She said smiling at the same time that her palm dried her cheeks. "She was so happy to be able to stay in New York."

"It was an absolutely mutual feeling." Adrian passed his fingers through his hair, feeling an ache in his heart as his memory returned to the first time he saw her, that she had given him one of her beautiful smiles. "That night, she cut her hand with a glass. All the vampires around were drawn towards the fresh blood, to her."

"I know the feeling." She sadly murmured. "She mentioned that part actually, that you helped her and stood in front of her."

"I will never forget how she hugged me from behind. How when she was scared, she trusted me." His eyes started to burn with fresh tears. "She not only didn't allow the debriefing, but also convinced me to show her around the library." The tears ran free on his face and he didn't try to stop them. "She's brave and stubborn in the most wonderful way."

"I think you are not aware how important you are to her." They stood in silence, lost in their thoughts and memories until Lily talked again. "Amy had always tried to watch over you."

"I know she did." His voice was a low raspy whisper.

"Actually, I suspect you don't know how much." After a pause she sighed, as she had made a decision. "Amy is going to kill me for this…" She muttered. "There's something that she never told you." Adrian noticed the subtle change in her voice. "But I'm convinced you deserve to know." She took a deep breath, closing her eyes for a moment. "After the trial where Vega framed you and they declared you guilty, everybody started to discuss how to divide your stuff and..." She stood in silence, her eyes filled with doubts.

"What happened, Lily?" He shifted his gaze to look at her, taking his attention from the coffin for the first time.

"Priya grabbed her from the throat and 'claimed' her for herself." Lily shivered a bit beside him as his blood seemed to boil and freeze at the same time. "She said that she wanted to break her. And after forcing her to watch you die, maybe kill her."

"Was she hurt?" Adrian frowned, clearly disturbed as a new wave of anguish went through his factions. He was conscious of all the times she had been in danger because of him but discovering that there were occasions that she hadn't told him to protect him, it felt like a powerful hand grabbed his heart and squeezed it slowly and extremely painfully.

"Kamilah stopped her almost immediately but she had a bruise around the neck for a couple weeks. She covered it with makeup."

"Amy never told me about that." He lowered his face, both of his hands holding it, seeming overwhelmed as his fingers ran through his hair.

"I know. She didn't want you to know. She was sure you would feel guilty even when it wasn't your fault." Lily stared at his eyes, he never had seen her gaze so intense. "What do you think was the first thing she said, when we left the temple after that?" Adrian stared at her back, unsure if he wanted to know. "She asked Kamilah how we could help you, to save you." Lily sadly smiled at him. "Even back then she didn't wanted to lose you. That's why she did what she did tonight."

He remembered the deep sadness and concern he saw in her when their eyes locked to each other as he was dragged away. The softness of her hand and words when she had found him in The Baron's dungeon. The happiness he felt when he saw her in front of him. "I didn't want to lose her either." He forced himself to say the words that couldn't stop repeating internally. "I don't want to lose her. I can't. I need her, she just can't di--" The lump in his throat cutted his voice, incapable of ending the last word.

"I don't know if she had heard you but… If it's worth something, I know she loves you too, Adrian." Lily murmured, her voice gruff. "You are the most important person to her." Her hands dried her cheeks. "Well, the second more important at least. Best friends and roommates rights, you know."

"I'll take it." Adrian smiled before his face fell again. "And it's worth more than you can imagine." His eyes fixed again on the sarcophagus. "I just hope to have the chance to tell it to her like she deserves. And maybe hear her say it back."

Lily took off her glasses and rubbed her eyes, standing up. "Are you sure you want to stay here?"

"Yes." She nodded and headed to the stairs. "Lily." He called her and she stopped to watch him. "Thank you. For the blood and everything afterwards."

"You are welcome, Adrian." She leaned against the wall for a minute. "I just know how sad she would be seeing you like this." She stared at the sarcophagus one last time, thinking the same thing that has been in Adrian's mind the last two hours and couldn't dare to face it: how silent the coffin was, without even a faint heartbeat or shallow breathing coming from it. Almost like it was empty.

✨

#adrian raines #adrian raines x mc #adrian x amy #choices bloodbound #bloodbound mc #choices game #pixelberry studios #choices stories we play #playchoices #choices stories you play #pixelberry

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ravenadottir · 2 years

Note

Hi!! Love you!! Wanted to ask your opinion on litg s2 Jakub and Hope. Obviously they had to have a few private chats away from the group. I wonder what may have been said from Hope that had Jakub thinking he should pick her at the recoupling?? I know he’s kind of a knobhead and didn’t care about stepping on anyones toes but there must have been a little flirting and maybe she said something a bit off about Noah since Operation Nope just happened. I really want to know your thoughts and what you think their chats were like.

hi there!! thank you so much for the love, and for the ask, this might be the one thing i was never able to put together because of the inconsistencies.

i don't think jakub chose hope out of nowhere either. and it all started back at their date, where jakub wasn't even trying to come across as chill.

"so, how are you feeling today? the others were telling me what happened. and we saw some of it on telly."

"well, i must say, i didn't think people were out to get us like that. just before you and chelsea came in everything was so full on, but i didn't had the time to talk to the girls."

"i'm more interested on how you're feeling about noah."

"i... don't know. i don't know how i'm supposed to feel."

"if you ask me you're not supposed to do anything that you don't want to. if you're feeling bothered you should just feel bothered." he smirks. "personally i wouldn't stay with someone that says what he said to priya before talking to me but that's me..."

"yeah, i don't know why he felt the need to just..." she sighs. "i guess i'm just distracted. i'm not sure if noah and i will stay together. he seems to be avoiding the question." she shifts. "'cause i've tried talking about it but... he doesn't give me anything. all i want is honesty."

"you want honesty? i think you're really hot."

hope feels her face burn. "w-what?!" she laughs awkwadly. "that was unexpected."

"you should always expect someone to say that. anyone that can see should say the same."

"right... huh, i wasn't expecting you to be this smooth."

"i have a question though. and it's serious. how do you feel about me picking you at the next recoupling?"

hope stares into the distance, unsure. she plays with her braids, almost contemplating a positive response. "listen, i need to sort things out with noah but... i reckon we're kind of stuck."

"do you know what you do when you're stuck?"

"what?"

"get a really strong man to pull you." he laughs at his own joke and even though hope is unsure she does too.

"i'll let you know. i can have a chat with him, see where his head is at."

"where is your head at?"

"um... all over the place. i know what i want."

"and what's that?"

"i want to be with someone who knows my worth. because i know my worth."

"then it's decided then, i'll pick you on the next recoupling." he bark laughs at his own joke again but this time hope is not exactly confused.

"you would pick me? over the other girls?"

"a hundred percent. you're my first option."

"first option. sounds romantic."

"i'm a guy who knows what he wants. i'm not gonna piss on the boys' backs and say it's raining. if you want me to pick you you should know i want the same thing. to me it's very simple."

from there i think hope's mind was definitely all over the place but after that night's row, and how noah couldn't give her a definitive answer, she went to jakub this time, on the early morning of day 13.

"so... the news about the recoupling."

"yes. did you set things straight with noah?"

"the girls are not the only problem here. i'm just-" she sighs deeply. "if he wanted to be with me he would come out and say it. the fact that he still doesn't know, i mean, it's been two days. if he's not sure about me i can't be sure about him."

he leans on the doorframe. "my offer still stands. i want to pick you."

hope stares at her nails for a moment too long. "you know what? i'm not saying no. this entire time i've been treated like second choice. i like noah a lot, but if it's not working then... i don't know where to go from here."

jakub smirks a bit too much. "so you're not opposed to me picking you?"

"i'm not."

was she happy about it? no. she likes noah, but the insecurity of not knowing where you stand? she wanted noah to feel it as well.

she definitely felt flattered by jakub's compliments and maybe it was time to give noah a scare. but hope regretted that almost after breaking up on disaster recoupling, 'cause she says "we wouldn't be in this situation if you hadn't picked me" when they're pointed to leave the villa, but she was happy and amused to try new things.

in summon, he talked to her and went with his gut. when asked about it she didn't say 'no' so that's why she wasn't surprised, but after regretting she spent the next few days throwing the weight of her decisions on the girls because neither jakub or noah were there to take the heat.

#litg #love island the game #litg s2 #litg season 2 #litg hope #litg noah #litg jakub #queue #disaster recoupling

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siriuslyblackblog · 3 years

Text

Professor 》Remus Lupin (18+)

《 (3) 》

If it's easier for you to read on Wattpad, tap here! Please don't forget to vote or leave a comment❤

❈────────•✦•❅•✦•────────❈

Remus Lupin had just finished eating the third chocolate that day. It was evening already and he had ruined his supper. He wasn't feeling hungry, so he stayed in the classroom and waited for the student to arrive. Nancy's words had left him speechless. No girl had ever told him things like that. Remus thought it was funny at first, but when he caught himself thinking about those words, he quickly shook his head and stood up. He found an occupation, but his mind didn't cooperate. It's been so long since the last time he just looked at a girl in a different way. The fire in his heart he had for Nymphadora Tonks was slowly dying out. He did miss her, but if she came back this moment, he wasn't sure if he would want a relationship with her. It just wasn't the same.

He heard shuffling, then doors being opened. The redhead entered the classroom, dressed more inappropriate than in morning classes. He wasn't even sure that was possible. Merlin, he wasn't sure how Filch didn't notice. Not only him, but anyone.

"Good evening, professor," she greeted.

Her professor sighed, then placed another stack of books on one of the front desks. Remus already knew that she was going to be a tough one and he was already tired. Perhaps he should keep eating chocolate until he gets chubby so no girl approaches him? As much as he missed someone, he had to be focused on being a good professor this year. The rest will easily come. Although, he wasn't stupid. He knew what he looked like and he noticed all the attention he got from female students. Many seventh years purposely started getting in trouble just to get detention with me. Unfortunate for them, all of them mostly suffered detention from their House Heads.

"These books need to be checked and sorted alphabetically, Miss Pennington."

"Of course, professor."

Nancy pulled out her wand and got ready to cast a spell. Just as she opened her mouth, the stern voice of her professor interrupted her.

"No magic, " he said.

The redhead frowned first, then calmly put her wand back in her pocket. She adjusted the skirt so that a bit of her thighs were visible. The cold air hit her skin and made her shiver a bit, but she collected herself and put on the best smile she could.

"As you wish, professor."

Remus left the girl to do her task and went back to his place. While grading the tasks he had given the sixth years, he noticed one was missing. He counted the papers again, but couldn't get the number he needed. Then, he remembered. The girl which left the class almost in tears. The man furrowed his eyebrows, remembering her red face. He hated when people were sad. He knew how awful it is to hold back tears in a room full of people and he didn't want anyone to feel like that. He let her leave the class so she could let it all out in peace. Still, he wondered what caused that reaction.

"Miss Pennington?" He called out, abandoning the papers on his desk.

The girl turned around, waiting for the next words. Remus stopped for a moment, thinking if it was a right thing to ask about a student. Asking about someone's wellbeing isn't wrong, right?

"The girl from this morning. Miss-?"

"Periculum. Roseanne Periculum."

"Right, Miss Periculum. Is she feeling better?"

Nancy shrugged, then went back to arranging the books. Remus frowned, dissatisfied with the answer. This girl was supposed to be a good friend of Miss Periculum, yet all she had was shrugging? It must be terrible not having anyone to ask about your problems. He was lucky to have amazing friends with him during his bad times. He missed them.

"Do you happen to know the reason behind her behaviour today?"

Nancy rolled her eyes, annoyed with the attention professor Lupin was giving to a person that wasn't even in the room. She felt a bit guilty for not asking Rose about her problem, but at the end of the day, she didn't ask anyone. Rose shouldn't be feeling left out. Whatever it was, she'll get through it. Everything comes and goes, nothing stays.

"No, professor."

༻❁༺

The week passed by rather quickly and Rose was soon getting Coco off of her so she could get ready. Nancy was still asleep. She had decided last night that she wasn't in the mood for classes, so she'll pretend to be sick. Dell was already dressed and sat patiently on her bed, waiting for Rose. Rose didn't really despise Dell like she did everyone else. The blonde haired girl was funny and interesting to be around. Maybe it was because of her relationship with Fred Weasley, but who knows. Maybe Rose finally liked someone who wasn't a Weasley. Speaking of Weasleys, they bombarded her with questions the next day she showed up at Transfiguration. Rose didn't want to explain that her insecurity kicked in, so she said the one thing girls always complained about: period. The boys quickly shut up, not asking her any more questions.

Next to Dell laid the fourth roommate. Priya Patil was the older sister of Padma and Parvati Patil. It was interesting how the initials of all three were P. P. Just like Dell, Rose also didn't mind Priya. She minded her best friend, Elisaveta Yakusheva. Her father played a big role in almost everything, just like Mr Malfoy. Elisaveta - or Lisa, like Priya and her close friends call her - is almost as popular as Nancy. Of course, Nancy's red curls and green eyes won over Lisa's blonde straight hair and blue eyes. Nancy was also a million times nicer, as unbelievable as it sounds. Priya was stuck between the two girls. She loved both of her best friends, but most of the time she faced the problem of choosing sides. In those moments, Rose was happy to have less than five friends.

This morning, Dell noticed that the brown haired girl had gotten up earlier and was spending a big amount of time in front of the mirror. She also noticed a chocolate peeking from her bag. Little did she know that it was a creation of the Weasleys. Rose was supposed to hand the chocolate to the new professor today. She wasn't sure what it was supposed to do. Fred didn't want to tell her and George only laughed whenever she asked.

"Rosie, I feel like I'm watching Nancy. What's going on with you?"

"What do you mean?"

"You don't wear your skirt that way. And you've been trying to fix your hair for hours now. Is there something I don't know?"

It was true. The skirt was placed higher on her waist, revealing her knees and a bit of thighs. She had seen professor Lupin only during meals, but he was so far away to see her. Today she will finally see him again. She couldn't wait to hear his voice and look at him properly this time. Tired of her shuffling, Dell stood up to help her roommate. She cast a spell to fix the mess on her head. Soft brown waves replaced split ends and tangled strands. It has been so long since her hair looked like that. The last time she put effort in her looks was when she was in love with Oliver Wood.

Rose split up with her roommate and entered the classroom alone. The twins were in their seats, both of them sending a mischievous smile her way. She wished she knew what the chocolate actually was.

"Why a chocolate? What if he thinks I'm trying to flirt with him?"

George laughed at her words, then took the chocolate from her. He admired it as if he wasn't the one who made it. "Our professor has a sweet tooth, love. He won't be thinking about you when he sees it."

Needless to say, the girl was disappointed. That's honestly what she wanted. Him to see her, to think about her. One thought led to another and she found herself thinking about what happened that Monday in detention. Nancy came back looking like a mess, her lipstick a bit smeared on her bottom lip. She was jealous. So jealous that she could feel her head burning. Her thoughts were interrupted when George touched her leg with his under the desk. The professor entered the classroom with a good morning, then sat down. Rose crossed her legs, feeling a bit of fear because of the way she wore her uniform. Maybe she could let her tongue loose too and earn herself a detention with him. Just maybe...

After giving everyone a task, Remus remembered the girl and allowed himself to glance at her. She had her head down, her hair slowly getting puffy again. She seemed fine today and it made him feel better. He didn't like to see his students come to class in pain or anything like that. The girl then raised her head, looking directly into his eyes. Her eyes widened, surprised that the professor was already looking at her. Her head was soon in the previous position, her face now hidden with hair. Just as Remus wanted to go back to the lesson, he noticed something. He noticed how Rose was uncomfortably shifting under the desk. Then, he noticed her bare thighs. She had her legs crossed, her hands fixing the skirt every few moments. The redhead next to her shot her a few confused looks. She didn't look like that last Monday. She looked like a mess back then. Remus also couldn't help but notice that one white lock of hair and her plump bottom lip. She was a refreshing sight. Of course, all girls in Hogwarts were stunning, but they all looked the same. Roseanne didn't have long skinny legs and long nails. She also didn't have lots of makeup on her face. Remus wasn't sure when was makeup even allowed. He remembered how his friend once got in trouble for putting on lip gloss. A bright red lipstick? Merlin, what else will he see in this school?

Rose felt her cheeks burning as she felt professor Lupin's eyes on her. Finally, she thought. But she also felt disappointed. Did she really have to dress up that way to get noticed? What kind of a man is he? Rose also wondered if she really wanted to get close to a man like that. A man who only noticed her after she changed her appearance and copied the style of other girls. They always tell you to be yourself and be unique, but then you get excluded for being too different. It's hard to live, really.

The first class came to an end and everyone was too busy gathering their belongings to hear professor's words. Rose managed to write down the task he gave them for the next class, then gathered her own things. George playfully pulled her sleeve, then nodded towards the chocolate in her bag.

"Do I have to?"

"What are you scared of, Rosie?"

"I just don't want to get in trouble."

But she did want to get in trouble. A trouble called professor Remus Lupin. She glanced at the chocolate, then her professor. He was busy taking off his jacket and collecting his books.

"Since when?" George asked, surprised with the sudden change in his crush's behaviour.

Rose bit her bottom lip, thinking about the situation. The classroom was almost empty, a few students still pushing each other to get out. George pinched her cheek, then kissed her head. She despised contact of any kind, but head kisses and cheek pinching from the twins were different. She would occasionally hit their shoulder, acting like she hated it. The redhead was the last to exit the classroom, leaving Rose alone with the professor. He had gotten up and was arranging the books on the shelf. His jacket was placed on his chair and he only wore the white shirt. Rose couldn't help but notice his back muscles through his shirt. The sleeves were rolled up to his elbows, revealing the veins on his arms. The brown haired girl stood behind him with the chocolate in her hands, lost in the way his fingers went through the pages and the way his back muscles moved. She didn't even notice her jaw slowly dropping as the man set the books back in place and stretched. Rose wasn't sure he was aware that she's still there.

Remus turned around, running his fingers through his hair and letting out a sigh. He finally had some free time. Enough to eat one chocolate bar. Maybe two. The man stopped in his tracks when he noticed a girl standing in front of him. Her mouth was slightly opened, her cheeks pink and her chest slowly rising and falling. He wasn't stupid. He was aware of his looks. He just didn't think it was worth that much attention. There were men who looked far better than him. Then why did all the girls still go after him?

"Miss Periculum," he greeted, putting his hands behind his back.

The girl closed her mouth and gulped, then looked down. The chocolate seemed like a normal one you could buy at Hogsmeade, but Merlin knew what it actually was. She noticed professor Lupin eyeing the chocolate, making her more nervous than she already was.

"Oh, before you say anything..."

The man walked over to his desk, picking up a few papers and looking at them. Rose watched as his fingers moved, her eyes following the veins all the way up his arms. She could feel her cheeks heating up again, her mind creating pictures she would've loved to see happen in reality.

"...because you left the classroom last Monday, you missed a task I need to grade. I hope you understand that you can't be the only one without a grade."

The brown haired girl nodded, mimicking the previous action of her professor by putting her hands behind her back. "When will I do it, professor?"

Remus mentally slapped himself. The way his student called him professor made his mind go crazy. She had a quiet, silky voice and he just wished to hear it one more time. So he asked, "Sorry?"

"When will I do the task, professor?"

Rose repeated the sentence a bit louder and Remus had to use all his strength so he wouldn't smile with satisfaction. He needed to see her again as soon as possible and as often as possible. Her voice was addicting. He would do anything to hear her call him again. Remus also wondered what his real name would sound on her lips. He dared to wonder what it sounded like in more than just a normal way. The man turned around towards his desk, going through the papers to hide his heavy breathing. He did feel disappointed in himself. How dare he think about a student that way? But he still couldn't help himself and say:

"Tonight, Miss Periculum."

#harry potter #harry potter requests #harry potter scenarios #harry potter imagine #harry potter smut #remus lupin #remus #remus lupin smut #remus lupin fanfiction #remus lupin fic #hogwarts #hogwarts fic #remus lupin scenario #remus lupin series #professor lupin #professor lupin smut #remus lupin imagine

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neutron-stars-collision · 3 years

Text

The Art of Inversion

Neil x Reader

Chapter 22 - Not Strong Enough

Masterlist; Chapter 21

Summary: You reunite with Neil aboard the icebreaker. With the tension amping up and the mission nearing it’s finale, you have a difficult time making sense of everything.

Warnings: angst (yep, loads of it), swearing.

Author’s Notes: Here it is, finally! Know it took me ages, and I’m so sorry for that. Hopefully from now on it won’t be as bad... This one was fun to write since there’s a lot of emotions to go through :)) Hope you’ll enjoy! Let me know what you think!

PS. Now that we’re onto the icebreaker chapters let me just say that I’ve got a lot planned ;) and I’m excited to share it so thank you all who have sticked around <3

The moment you stepped out of the inversion chambers and into the normal world (well, normal but looking fucked up to you and eight days previously), Ives received the promised further instructions. Get to Trondheim with the local squad, regroup with the reinforcements there, get on board the icebreaker equipped with the inversion technology. At least that was the information you got. Easy. Well, almost, but thankfully nothing seemed to depend on you. Yet. So, you followed the rest of the squad onto the chinook, ignoring the phone that never rang anymore. That was okay. You would not even know what to tell Neil if he called. In less than two hours, you were on military transport to Norway. Again.

In the tense silence of those hours of flight, it was easy to rest. At least you have changed the setting and could focus on stressing about all that was to come instead of the personal matters. Yes, you would have to face Neil and probably work with him as though nothing happened. But the more pressing matter was the potential world ending. For that, you could endure the pain. Focusing on avoiding hyperventilation through the mask, you fell asleep, giving in to the tiredness. When Wheeler shook you awake hours later, you have landed at the base in Trondheim. The icebreaker was supposed to cross by the shore on the next day, leaving the night to be camped out in the military containers on the periphery of the base.

You were lucky to land a spot in the container shared with Wheeler, as she was second in command, and you were still considered ‘precious cargo’. Precious to whom you had no idea. But that did not matter. After a quick meal made up of tin food and weak tea from the thermos, your roommate left for an inspection of the troops and a confab with Ives. You had peace. Taking off the unnecessary layers of clothing, you intended to use the time to curl up under the covers and mope. But it was not meant to be. Suddenly the silence of the air-locked container got pierced by your phone ringing. What the hell… Glancing at the display, your heart stopped for a split second. For a moment, you wanted to ignore it. To pretend you are not available. But your heart knew better, unable to give up the possibility of hearing his voice after all this time. Sitting up on the cot, you picked up the phone. A long exhale on the other side followed by…

“Hey”

As simple as that. Fuck. Neil’s voice was enough to trigger the feelings. The husky tone, the tiredness you sensed through that one word alone. The advantage of the phone call was that he could not hide too much. Not from you.

“Hi… um, why…” you trailed off, annoyed at how something so simple could disrupt the fragile peace.

But judging by the long pause, it was not just you for whom the conversation was a struggle. Brilliant.

“TP told me to call you” right, “Give you a run-down of the state of affairs, so tomorrow is easier for us all,” he added, using that professional tone you came to detest.

Call you? The voice of reason tried to break through the amalgamation of thoughts and feelings. It did not make much sense, seeing as TP did not even trust you after the latest revelations.

“Me?” you blurted out.

Anyone else would have been a more obvious choice. But Neil called you. Why? You wanted to add that question to the mix, but before you could do so, he came up with an answer.

“Not exactly, but I’ve decided that you can pass it on to Ives and so on” the uncertainty in his voice ignited the spark.

“I see” that was the only comment you could muster.

But he understood. He cleared his throat before resuming the conversation. An image flashed before your eyes: tired Neil, with ruffled hair, curled up in the armchair in Oslo, glancing at you from the pages of the book you just borrowed him. That stupid soft smile gracing his exquisite features. Eyes sparkling with satisfaction and affection. Enough.

“We’ve managed to save Kat with that stunt in Oslo…” his voice brought you back to the present moment.

That was something. Despite not having even talked to Kat, you felt sympathy towards her.

“I’m glad. Is she alright?” you occupied the shaking hands with picking up pieces of lint off the blanket.

It did not help your racing pulse. Or the increasing ache in your chest.

“Yeah, she’s recovering. There’s a scar, but that’s nothing compared to what could’ve happened”

God knows what made you say the first thing on your mind then:

“We’ve all been scarred… one way or another” as soon as the words left your mouth, you knew that it was too much.

Fucked up again. It was difficult to remember that you were not supposed to share your thoughts with him anymore. That this was not allowed. Once again, so much had to be left unspoken just for the sake of your sanity.

“I know that better than anyone” his response and the sombre tone made you swallow hard.

Of course. You had no doubts he was regretting the decision to take that bullet for you in New York. After all, the scar was there to haunt him for eternity, reminding him of the time and effort wasted on you.

“TP met with Priya in Oslo…” the change of topic was vital, “She told him about the algorithm and got us the icebreaker” Neil explained.

Back to business. Thank God. All would be perfect if it was not for the audible strain in his voice. It was evidently torturing. For both of you.

“Sator’s got it? All of the parts?” clearing your head, you asked the most important of questions.

How fucked were you?

“Yes,” no hesitation.

Very much so. What would life be without a world-ending scenario taking place just when everything was coming apart? Too boring, probably.

“Fuck” you breathed into the phone, taking a beat to think, “Do we know where? When?”

At least anxiety now had a proper anchor. Something to dig into and stay fixed for a while. A constant companion.

“The day of the Kiev opera siege. But I don’t know where, TP won’t tell me” the remorse was palpable, “Kat helped us piece it together. Sator’s dying, and probably intends to kill himself and trigger the dead-drop, activating the algorithm” double fuck.

Could it get worse? You dared not ask. For a moment, you were grateful Neil called you with the news. At least that way, you heard it from someone you trusted. Or once trusted.

“Jesus…” the silence on the other end was almost comforting, “So that’s the plan? To go back and try to stop him…” you trailed off, raking your head for ways to fix things.

Inversion for over a week more was one thing. Actually pulling this off was another. Because you doubted someone like Sator would be unprepared. You could only hope someone had a plan. Or that your helpful texts would come around. One could wish.

“Yes, in essence,” Neil confirmed your thoughts with that ever-present gloom in his tone.

He was worried too. That eternal desire to comfort him nagged at your bruised heart. It would only get worse once he was within your reach. The collision was unavoidable.

“Okay,” suddenly you wanted nothing but to end the call and sleep, “I’ll let Ives know”

With the awkwardness burning bright, the goodbye was on the tip of your tongue. But…

“I-” Neil cut himself off suddenly.

What? The curiosity was relentless.

“Do you need anything else?” you sat up straighter, forcing the nonchalance.

“No,” after a beat, he added, “Well-”

Christ. There was no power to ignore him.

“Yes?” you stifled the butterflies in your stomach.

It could only hurt more. Surely he would not have anything better to say.

“How are you doing?” the question was dropped with merciless indifference.

You were right. Only he could be that blunt. Unable to keep cool, you cursed out loud:

“Fuck’s sake” taking a deep breath, you gathered all the needed strength to continue, “Neil, do you seriously want me to answer this question?”

There was not enough air in the room. Forcing yourself to calm down, you stared at the wall, counting dents in the metal. Anything to stop the panic.

“I just thought... we’re... I haven’t seen you in over a week and-” he stumbled over the sentence pathetically.

“Maybe it’s better you stop thinking,” you cut him off, feeling the familiar surge of anger “For a while”

How did he dare? You would have thought that he would know better. That he would understand that things changed, and he was no longer allowed access into your mind. But trust Neil to mess it up. To be ignorant of how you felt.

“I didn’t mean to hurt you” the soft tone took you by surprise.

Despite the shock, you were too pissed off to give in.

“... I’m afraid you’ve fucked it then,”

There was no stopping the words that spilled from your throat. They rolled off your tongue, fueled by bitterness and hurt.

“It’s not easy getting over rejection, but then you wouldn’t know that. Everyone wants you. And if they don’t, you move on. No hearts harmed in the process. But not everyone is that lucky” you finished only once there was no breath left in your lungs.

Now he knew. The words hung in the space between you, making the phone seem heavy in your hand. Too much too soon. Just when you thought Neil would not respond, you could hear him take a deep breath before asking:

“Is this really how you understand what I said?” the strange timbre in his voice was confusing.

It was as though he was utterly defeated, devoid of anything but resignation. But why? It was you who were hurting, not him. It made no sense.

“Yes,” that had to suffice.

You already said too much, exposed yourself again. Giving him ammunition to strike when necessary. There was no pretending that you did not care. Or that your misplaced love confession during your last conversation was a lie. A sudden noise at the airlock made you look up. Wheeler entered your shared container, oblivious to the drama taking place. After a second of hesitation, you found that you did not mind the company. Once your eyes met, you just nodded, giving her permission to stay. The sombre half-smile told you she suspected who was on the other end.

“I haven’t pushed you away. When you…” Neil’s voice came through the speaker again.

A hint of desperation. As though he wanted you to understand something obvious. But there was nothing there. You could not forget how he took everything but never gave anything back. It was rather simple.

“There’s a major difference between love and want” stating the truth, you could feel Wheeler’s attentive gaze on you “Doubt you’d push away someone as desperate as I was. Especially when you could have something pleasant out of it. But that doesn’t mean you love me” the strength needed to say those words was all you could manage “I need to go now”

You desperately wanted to bury yourself under the blanket and sleep. Maybe never wake up. That could be nice.

“…I’ll see you tomorrow then” the reluctance tore into the remains of your heart.

Tomorrow. Too soon. You knew there was no way of preparing for it. You would have to endure the unbearable and bear it. The world was more important than your comfort or pride.

“Yes, unfortunately,” the honesty could not hurt anyone.

Least of all Neil. You ended the call before he could say anything else and dropped the phone on the bed. Fuck. Burying your head in the pillow, you tried to level the breathing.

“Are you alright?” Wheeler’s question drifted across the narrow space.

“I will be,” you shrugged, turning to lie on your back and stare at the ceiling.

Emptiness. And even more anxiety. Amazing combo. And all because of that dyed blonde lanky bastard with eyes too blue and jaw too sharp. Trust you to fall for the unattainable.

“It was him, wasn’t it?”

“Yep,” you glanced sideways at your companion with a grimace, “He called to give me a summary of the events, so to speak” that part still did not make sense, but who were you to argue.

Wheeler let out a low hum, making you face her. You did not like the suspicious expression on her face. But you were too tired to ask. Ignorance is our ammunition and all that. You resumed the summary with a heart even heavier:

“And then he asked how I am, and I just…” you trailed off, giving in to the feelings, “Christ, I’ve no clue how I’m supposed to meet him tomorrow”

Pathetic, again. You half expected Wheeler to slap you for being an annoying, lovesick teenager pining after her crush. Which you were, in all fairness. But instead, you felt a hand pat your arm reassuringly.

“You’ll manage” glancing up, you met the warm smile of your companion, “You’re strong” before you could argue, she added, “And from what I’ve heard, you two really should talk, so maybe the opportunity will come up” it was her turn to shrug, wandering off to prepare the second cot.

“I suppose” that sounded like a nightmare “Got news for you and Ives, by the way”

You were hoping she will make you go to the squad leader right this moment. That would be a perfect distraction.

“Those can wait till tomorrow, get some sleep”

Well, fuck.

*** The nerves and increasing panic only caught up with you in the containers on the way to the icebreaker. The morning was spent in that blissful motion you needed so badly. You passed on the information to squad leaders, packed up, and got ready for the journey, which commenced after you got a call from the ship’s captain. The time spent on board was too short for your liking. Gripping the duffel back with your belongings, you focused on breathing slowly while the chinook approached the icebreaker, preparing to drop the containers and fly off. Somehow, the rattling and the cramped space of the metal box were almost comforting. No one could hurt you there. There was no one to escape and to hide from. But, of course, that too was over too soon. As the container touched the ground with a thud, making you all jump up, you only had a moment to clench your jaw. Ives stood up and opened the door as you all formed a proper formation for disembarking. The cold, piercing light of the sun hit you in the face as the wind tangled the cord connecting your oxygen tank to the mask. One look around assured you of two things – you would have to get accustomed to the sight of sea and sky for miles and that there was no hiding from Neil.

He was there, stood right next to TP, awaiting your arrival. It took you a moment to get accustomed to his military get-up. The black windbreaker zipped up, cargo pants with armour pads on the knees, and heavy boots. Hair windswept, falling into his eyes, making you want nothing but to brush it away. Brilliant. And naturally, he noticed you as well, eyes looking over your frame and face, searching for something. You did wonder whether he found it. To distract yourself, your gaze slipped over to look at TP. Still suspicious and serious. But at least he was not staring at you, trying to see into your soul. And that was enough.

“Welcome aboard” his grim countenance lit up for a second.

After a motion from Ives, you stepped up along with him and Wheeler, joining the two men. You had a proper look around. The rows of containers, rigs, and equipment being stacked in crates, ready for the upcoming battle. Eyeing the accommodation part of the cargo ship, you listened on to the conversation:

“Where exactly are we heading?” Ives’s voice cut straight to the point.

Good question. You glanced back at TP, only to find an enigmatic smile grace his features.

“All in the right time,” he responded, and you could see Neil grimace.

Somehow seeing him that frustrated did not cause any satisfaction. Quite the contrary even. To your inner horror, his eyes met yours right then. Curiously considering, before he reached out a hand:

“It’s good to see you” that was undoubtedly directed at you.

The empty pleasantry hurt like a bitch. But, with four pairs of eyes set on you, there was no choice but to accept the outstretched hand. Swallowing down the panic, you let his hand envelope yours in the casual handshake. Even that amount of contact was enough to make you spiral. Especially with how his thumb brushed over your knuckles. The eyes never leaving yours, urging you to understand something. What you had no clue. The moment was over before you realised, and Neil directed the next sentiment at your companions.

“All of you” they exchanged the handshakes while you stared on.

Once that was done, TP directed your attention towards the accommodation again:

“We’ll show you what’s where” he started walking, giving the directions on the go, “Let everyone else disembark in the meantime”

At least he was more like himself.

You followed them, taking in all the shown spaces. The lower part was occupied by the turnstile and potential training spaces. As you passed, you could hear Ives making arrangements for the troops to start sparing and shooting practice as soon as possible. Next, there were bunk beds and sleeping spaces for everyone. Rows upon rows of small bunks, only privacy was a curtain separating the mattress from the outside world. But it had to do, of course. As you moved up past the machinery, the kitchen, and the common spaces, you have been led to an airlocked corridor near the bridge.

“That’s where we sleep” TP waved a hand in the general direction of the many doors in the corridor.

There was a total of four cabins and a bathroom. Your gaze settled on Neil again. Entirely on its own accord. He shifted hesitantly before directing a question at the squad leader:

“Ives, do you guys want to stay with the troops?”

You could see the emotions bubbling under the nonchalant expression. It was not the usual charming, suave Neil you have met. Now there was uncertainty, doubt, and insecurity. As though he suddenly lost all the confidence and was trying to piece himself together. You did wonder what made him hurt that much.

“Yeah, that’s better for the morals,” Ives replied, ending your strange thoughts.

“As you wish,” Neil grinned in response, before glancing at TP, “I’ll go check on Kat”

Before anyone could respond, he disappeared down the corridor. Interesting. Could it be that he too was bothered by what was going on? Difficult to imagine but plausible.

“Those are yours, Y/N” the mention of your name made you look up.

TP was staring at you inquisitively, a hand on a doorknob, awaiting a reaction. That was unexpected. As much as the fact that he used your name. And did not look that pissed off anymore. You did wonder what was said during their journey back to Oslo. How much did he know?

“I thought I’ll be with the rest of the squad” you stared back quizzically.

“Neil made sure you got your own space” TP shrugged as though it was the most obvious thing in the world.

What the hell. Was that why he so casually run off?

“How very kind of him,” you muttered, feeling the gazes of everyone else burning on your skin.

Damn people and their curiosity.

“He’s down the corridor, if-” oh fuck no.

“Thanks,” you cut off the boss with the voice as cold as ice.

He understood, nodding curtly. Thank god. It was enough to know that Neil was close. You did not need the specifics. Or the insinuations behind the information. It did not matter; you would not be visiting him any time soon. Or ever.

*** You have managed to avoid meeting Neil throughout the day. It was busy, filled with getting settled aboard the icebreaker and planning what the next days are going to hold. You were not told what your destination was, but you had a clue Ives knew. That was… disappointing. You have happily missed the mealtime, choosing to hide in the 2 x 3 metres of space that was your cabin. The small bed, one round window, tiny bedside cabinet, and a chair were all you could depend on for the next eight days. Not bad. You were intent on staying there for as long as possible, avoiding the outside unless absolutely necessary. It was a good plan until, at around 1 am, your stomach started rumbling. Supposedly a whole day on just breakfast was bound to end like this. But you were still outraged. Because that meant going out. And here there be monsters. Sighing heavily, you put on the shoes and a jacket and warily stepped into the corridor. Silence. Cold metal walls and floors, deep dark shadows. With the official meeting taking place the next morning, you were hoping everyone was asleep. Or doing whatever people did at night.

Sealing the airlock in the small kitchen, you took off the oxygen mask and placed it on the small table. The galley was equipped with the necessary stuff, including a large, packed fridge, a kettle, sink, and some cabinets filled with non-perishable foods. The eerie silence was almost deafening, so you turned the kettle on, creating background noise. Going through the arsenal, you chose to prepare a sandwich and a tea and then promptly run away to your room. Just in case. As you set to work, confidence grew. Maybe you got lucky. You were in the middle of cutting the bread roll in half when the unmistakable sound of the zipper rung out. Fuck.

“… Hey,” of course.

Your hand slipped, knife slicing open the skin on your pointer finger. Blood dripping onto the counter.

“Shit!” you cursed and dropped the knife, bringing the injured finger to your mouth.

As the coppery taste dissolved on your tongue, you risked turning around to face the intruder. That was mistake number one. Neil was staring at you with concern etched onto his face. Lips pursed; brows furrowed. Hair ruffled as though he has been outside for an extended period of time. The moment your eyes met his, you felt trapped. There was nowhere to go. Just you and him, in 7 square metres. Bloody perfect. His gaze flitted between you and your wounded hand, hesitating and calculating. It was obvious, even to him.

“Are you alright?” the strange unfamiliarity took you by surprise.

You could see the conflict plain as day. Glancing at the cut, you were relieved to see that it was rather shallow, albeit still bleeding significantly. Turning on the tap to rinse it, you replied:

“Yep,” that simple.

And yet not at all. Neil edged closer, stopping right next to you but preserving a meter of space. Turning off the water, you looked up at him curiously. Too close. The blue threatened to drown you if you were not careful. He reached out a hand with fingers trembling slightly. You were frozen in the spot, seeing but unable to react, as he took another step forward.

“Show me-” the moment his skin made contact with yours, the paralysis disappeared.

God no. You jumped back, hitting the edge of the counter with your back. A dull throbbing was nothing compared to the hammering heart and the searing pain in your chest. His eyes widened in shock. Your reaction was evidently unexpected.

“No, that won’t be necessary” finding the voice again, you mustered a tight-lipped smile.

If this were to work, you had to avoid any physical contact. Somehow you knew that if he touched you, the resolve would begin to crumble. That could not happen. You took a deep breath and focused back on the task. The tension was of the knife-cutting kind. Swallowing you both in despair. In the corner of your eye, you could see Neil hesitate, watching you closely. Then he must have made up his mind, for he opened the fridge and started searching for something. After another minute of near-fatal awkwardness, you spoke up:

“Have you been outside?” a simple question dropped in an almost neutral tone.

Fitting perfectly between strokes of the butter knife on the roll. Small talk, easy enough, right?

“Yeah, I’ve watched the stars” Neil took out bread and settled by you at the counter “The sky’s pretty clear tonight” he glanced at you for a second, an enigmatic look on his face.

The walls were up. Back to pretending.

“Mhmm,” you nodded, praying to every god in the universe for help.

Thankfully, one must have listened… Well, sort of.

“You’ve missed the meal earlier,” he noticed while turning on the toaster.

Of course, he would. Forcing your hands to stay steady as you sliced up the tomato, you thought of a good enough answer. Because the truth would not do.

“Just didn’t feel like it” you shrugged, avoiding his eyes.

But he was staring. Leaning by the counter, watching you closely. You felt that this was it when it came to a casual conversation between you.

“But now you do?” this next question sounded differently.

There was a suspicious edge to his voice that you knew would be reflected in his eyes. Your acting was not good enough for this. Swallowing down the rising discomfort, you faced him and steeled your features.

“Yes,” that should suffice.

But then, seeing him attempt psychoanalysis through the means of staring, you chose honesty.

“I was hoping I won’t meet anyone around here this late,” you added and met his gaze.

A challenge. Tell me how I’m wrong, kind of thing. The truth he so clearly wanted. And Neil took it without hesitation.

“Anyone? Or just me?” eyes narrowed; lips curled into a smirk you did not like.

What the fuck? You felt a rush of anger. He maybe was right. But that did not mean he was allowed to question you. To make claims as clear as this.

“What’s your point?” you arched an eyebrow, forcing the most neutral of tones.

A shadow passed through his face, a hint of uncertainty. But as soon as you noticed it, it was gone. He shook his head with an almost imperceptible smile.

“No matter” waving his hand dismissively, he reached for the kettle.

Too close again. His arm brushed against yours as he filled in both of your mugs with the boiling water. You glared at that but chose to bite back the comment. At least he was being useful…

“You were rather quiet earlier...” Neil’s voice brought you back to the present moment.

Your head snapped up, meeting his intense stare. What? From the curiosity in his eyes, you deduced that he was waiting for an answer to that. You were sure to deliver.

“If you wanted me to publicly declare my hatred for you, then I’m sorry to disappoint,” shrugging, you took satisfaction in the way his eyes widened “Are you using that?” pointing at the container with sugar, you observed him a little longer.

Neil seemed less confident now. His tense posture and clenched jaw showed as much. Or the fact that suddenly he was not as eager to stare at you. Maybe that was a win. The only response you got was a head nod for ‘no’. But before you could celebrate the unlikely victory, he spoke again:

“Last time we talked, you said something a little different” there was that suspicious edge again.

You did not dare meet his eyes. The casual way in which he referred to the event made your blood boil. Because that was all the evidence you needed to confirm the worst-case assumptions: he did not care. To Neil, all this was a passing thing, something you can let go of when it becomes inconvenient. Trust you to give your heart to someone like that. The thought gave you an idea. What was said could not be unsaid, but…

“Yeah, but I thought about it, and... I take it back” once the words left your mouth, you felt a stronger surge of fury.

It only got worse when you caught a glimpse of hurt in the depths of his eyes. It was hidden well but still there.

“What?” Neil swallowed hard.

You could see that he did not expect that from you. Good. Perhaps it was a lie, but who was to say you had to be honest. After all, he was not, as it turned out. The look of confusion on his face made you turn up the emotions, throwing in irritability to the mix.

“I know you can be dense, but I’m sure you understood it well enough. I take back what I said in Tallinn” no effort was needed to be mean.

Just as easy as it was to lie. Perhaps too easy even. Out of curiosity, you watched him absorb what you said. At first, Neil’s lips parted a little as though he was holding in a gasp. Then he tensed, and eyebrows furrowed. That was denial. It was replaced with a painfully fake smile. One that did not reach his eyes. In summary, Neil did not seem relieved by what you said. Nor did he seem happy about it. Tough luck.

“Feelings change, huh?” nonchalantly he eyed you as though trying to find anything amiss.

The intensity of his gaze felt as though the fire was burning your skin. Suddenly the casual outfit seemed inadequate. Almost nonexistent in how he could see right through it. It took you a moment to shook it off. To remember that this was a duel, and you could still win. But only if you did not allow him to get too close.

“No. People do” you shrugged and went back to finishing the tea.

Just like that. A silence. And then the sound of a throat being cleared awkwardly:

“What are you trying to say?” unsure and shocked.

The metaphorical penny dropped. You could spare him the torture.

“You know,” putting away the teaspoon with a clink you eyed the toaster, “You might want to take that toast out unless you fancy eating carbon”

“Thanks,” Neil offered you a tight-lipped smile before he attended the burned toast.

You felt like that was the perfect metaphor for the state of your relationship. Or whatever the fuck was it. You were not sure what made you stay then. The walk back to your room did not seem convenient anymore. And the table was right there… It was rather risky, but then it was hard to deny yourself the pleasure. However questionable it may be. He was still your Neil, and his presence felt like the home you have desperately missed. Fortune favours the brave, or whatever. Ignoring his surprised look, you set down the plate and the mug and sat down at the narrow table. You did not have to wait long for a question:

“Do you mind if I stay?” the uncertainty in his voice made you look up.

Sure enough, the blue eyes were fixed on you with reluctance. As though he did not expect you to allow him that much. But then… why not? Perhaps it was the masochistic tendencies speaking.

“Suit yourself” you offered him the tiniest of smiles and focused on finally eating the carefully prepared sandwiches.

The ones you paid in blood and nerves for. At least they were good. After another moment, Neil joined, taking his seat opposite you. You could not help but snicker at the blackened toasts gracing his plate.

For a few minutes, you ate in silence, stealing glances at each other as though they were a crime. For you, they almost felt like it. His blonde hair (fake, as you had to remind yourself) reflected the fluorescents, giving him that angelic look that used to draw you in. It still did as much, only now it was paired with desperation everybody feels when faced with the unattainable. The forbidden fruit. Unable to stop yourself, you glanced at his lips then. The pull was still there, threatening to come crashing down and leave you gasping for air. But you could not give in.

“You saw us” as though Neil could read your mind, he spoke up, “Back at the airport, with Kat,” adding, he met your gaze.

You could tell that this was another attempt at small talk of sorts. You wondered how long this would take until another argument could begin to brew.

“Yeah,” nodding, you took a sip of the tea.

That was all he needed. The moment still sometimes haunted you. The look in his eyes when Neil saw you in Oslo. Now it all made more sense. The shock and apprehension. You were probably the last person he wanted to see back then.

“Why you’ve never said anything?” the question took you by surprise.

Neil, of all people, should know better. You took a moment to gather the thoughts, staring back into those eyes that seemed to see right through you.

“I just followed your favourite logic” upon his confused expression, you explained, “What’s happened-”

“-Happened” he grinned; too proud “You know me well”

His hand that was resting by the mug twitched as though he wanted to reach out. You could not tear your eyes away from it, battling the most primal of instincts that just wanted to touch him. Ignoring the urge, you finished the tea and muttered the answer:

“I thought I do”

It was another of those things that were too easy to tell him. Even though you were being vulnerable through admitting it. Most rules were broken already.

“But?”

You stood up, avoiding the desire to look him in the eye. Anything to make this easier. Enough. You got what you wanted, but now it was time to leave. To cut this torture short for you both.

“If Tallinn taught me anything is that I don’t know you at all. Not the real you, anyway” you rinsed the dishes and moved to the door “Now, excuse me-”

Neil moved fast. Before you could realise he stood up, his hand was wrapped around your arm, making escape impossible. Bewildered by the feelings rushing in all at once, you met his eyes. Even through the two layers of clothing, his touch was burning you. A reminder of all that you have lost. The immeasurable depth of expression in Neil’s face was not helping. You could discern determination, worry, and panic, among others. As though only now he has realised the extent of the damage.

“I never lied to you. Not even once” his grip tightened as he took a step forward.

Your back hit the wall, trapping you between him and the cold metal.

“Should I congratulate you?” stifling the raising panic, you stared up at him with defiance.

It worked.

“…Jesus,” Neil swallowed hard, unable to hide the exasperation, “Why are you like this?”

With the newly found position, you could easily judge his state of mind. He was annoyed, angry even. And that was triggering. Even though the proximity was slowly hazing your mind, proposing scenarios that could never happen. Fuck. You took a deep breath to calm down. To ignore how it felt to have someone look at you like this. Not platonically.

“If you need to ask, I think there’s no point in dragging this conversation any longer” finding your voice again you made sure to turn up the notch “I’d rather go to sleep than get rejected again” the coldness came out of nowhere.

But it was helpful. He did not expect that. The hand on your arm relaxed a little.

“I never rejected you” crease between his eyebrows deepened.

Right. Unable to stop the rising bitterness, you scoffed in his face. This was the opportunity to win the battle and get away before you could fuck it up even worse.

“You’re right,” you relished in the utter confusion visible “You did something worse. But I’m really not in the mood to argue, so… please let me go” gingerly, you placed your hand on his chest with the intent to push him away.

That was another mistake. Neil covered your palm with his, making you shudder. That was enough to make everything worse. Because there was no way of stopping the thoughts. Of ignoring the want, you tried to suppress for the past week. With him this close, touching you as though he meant it, you soon realised how bad it was. There was no way of getting rid of the feelings.

“I’m worried about you. You don’t look well” he broke the tense silence, forcing you to look up.

As if. His face was too striking. With blood pounding in your ears, you made another attempt at freeing yourself by trying to push him away.

“I don’t need your sympathy” taking a step forwards you hoped he would back off.

He did not. The concern visible in his blue eyes was overwhelming any last bit of sanity. All that was left did not make any sense. For a second, you wanted nothing but to have an innocent passerby interrupt you. The embarrassment could be worth it.

“I’m pretty sure you haven’t slept in days. And I-”

Neil was too close. The hand that was wrapped around your arm slid down to your waist while the other wandered up, fingers ghosting your neck. You closed your eyes for a split second, calming down the racing thoughts. This could not happen.

“Neil, stop,” shaking off the paralysis, you cupped his cheek “You can’t help me. So, let’s just leave it,” pouring in all the despair into your gaze, you met his eyes.

What you saw reflected was startling. You have never seen him that confused.

“I…” he faltered, losing the momentum that was there a second ago.

You were winning. But there was no satisfaction. Just the overwhelming despair, tempting you to make use of the predicament. Just this once. It was too easy to let your fingers caress his jaw, feeling the two-day stubble he did not bother shaving off. The disorientation in his eyes deepened as he stared at you with amazement. Speechless, frozen in the moment that seemed endless. As you brushed the pad of your thumb over his lips, Neil inhaled sharply, waking up from the reverie. His grip on your waist tightened, drawing you even closer. The expression in his eyes shifted. Pupils darkened as want took over the reason. You could feel yourself slipping down the slippery slope. Risking too much for god knows what. Or why. The air he breathed out ghosted your lips, an offer of what you could have. The exact same thing you have missed more than anything else. As if guided by the gravity itself, you leaned in, your noses brushing. Mere two inches of space. It would be so easy…

“If you don’t love me, then what is this?” Neil asked, breaking the silence and putting on another enigmatic smile.

The audacity of the question felt like a punch in the gut. That was the harsh wake-up call. Your salvation.

“Whatever it was for you in Tallinn,” you bit back, letting the anger seep into your answer “Let me go” the ice-cold tone was a perfect touch.

Neil took one last long look over your face before he stepped back, releasing you. The visible disappointment made you even angrier. Because how did he dare? What even was this? You had no clue. Only that you were right about touches being forbidden from now on.

“As you wish,” the pleasantry was thrown in your face with a mocking intonation.

You wanted nothing but to slap him. Punch him, make him bleed and hurt like you were. But that would be unbecoming for someone like you. And so, you straightened your back, grabbed the mask, and fixed it over your mouth and nose without as much as a glance in his direction. Enough now.

“See you at the meeting tomorrow” throwing the goodbye over your shoulder you unzipped the airlock.

“Good night” was the last thing you heard upon the exit from the galley.

Jesus Christ. Finally, there was air to breathe.

*** That night you did not get much sleep either, tossing and turning on the narrow bed, unable to make your brain shut up. It was hard not to come up with all the possible what-ifs. Not to wonder what could have happened should Neil stayed silent, and you were to continue. To let yourself get lost in him like you used to. And all of those questions were only amplified by the fact that you chose to sleep in the stolen sweater. Why? You had no clue. Like many things, even your brain stopped making sense a long time ago. And so, when your phone alarm finally rang, you could only accept the fate and grudgingly get up. The dark circles were hard to hide. Or the way your shoulders sagged at the mere idea of facing everyone else. But there was no other way. You got dressed in the most practical outfit and left the cabin with the heart hammering in your chest. All the courage accepted. The mere idea of facing Neil made your stomach turn. That vouched for an amazing start indeed.

The official meeting was supposed to take place at 9:00 on the indoor bridge, and as far you knew the purpose was to officially brief you and the squad. You followed the half-remembered directions, by miracle arriving at the airlock leading to a lounge-like space with sofas, a table with ten chairs, and panoramic windows proving splendid view of the inverted waves and occasional seagulls. It seemed like you were the first one to arrive. Taking a longer look to stare at the horizon, you jumped up at the sound of a throat being cleared. Not alone then…

“Good morning” tall blonde woman stood up from her position on the sofa.

Kat. The drama of the previous night almost made you forget about her. But there is only so long you can run away from reality. The anxiety spike made you take a deep breath before you could respond.

“Hi,” frowning at the awkwardness of the tone, you flashed her an apologetic smile “Sorry to interrupt if you’ve-”

“No, no, it’s okay,” she waved a hand dismissively and settled back on the cushions “I’ve just been watching the birds really. Still can’t get used to them” the thoughtful look in her eyes made you smile.

She could not be older than Neil. Tall and slender, dressed in practical military clothes as everyone else, she seemed so different from the woman you saw in Tallinn, bleeding and on the verge of death. Now there was steely confidence to her, intangible yet present. Tentatively, you joined her on the sofa, never taking your eyes off the horizon.

“It takes a while. The first time I got inverted, I panicked the moment I saw a pigeon flying backwards” you did not know where the honesty came from.

Or why you shared the story. But the bewildered smile that split Kat’s face was a good enough reward.

“That sounds horrendous” she choked back a laugh, meeting your gaze with sparkling blue eyes.

“It was cooing too” you added with the conspiratorial whisper, awaiting a response, barely concealing a giggle that was rising in your throat.

“Good God” she grinned in your direction.

Maybe there was some goodness in the universe…

“Yeah, basically” returning the smile, you reached out a hand “Sorry we’ve never got introduced, I’m Y/N”

“Kat” she shook your palm, smiling sympathetically “It’s nice to meet you. Are you part of the squad?”

“Well, sort of… I don’t really know what’s my role is in all this” shrugging helplessly, you allowed more honesty to permeate the sentence “But I’m too involved to ask questions”

“I know the feeling well” you knew the quiet resignation in her gaze from the reflection in the mirror.

As you opened your mouth to ask a question, a zip on the airlock made you freeze. Peace was not an available commodity these days.

“Good morning ladies” Neil’s voice rung out in the room as he stepped into the view.

The fake cheeriness looked out of place on his sombre face. After a quick scan, you could tell that he too has not slept well. And that he was trying his hardest to appear alright when he was everything but. A tell-tale sign was the untied shoelace and uncombed hair sticking out in every direction. Details easily missed by everyone but you. There was nothing you could do with that information. It felt like another tiny but painful stab straight into your battered heart. You did wonder how many more could you handle.

“Did you get a good rest?” Kat’s innocent question brought you back to the moment.

“Not quite” Neil grimaced slightly as his eyes slipped over onto you for a fraction of a second.

That was enough to make Kat notice. You were sure of it. Your cheeks reddened on their own accord, and you returned Neil’s tight-lipped smile. A finishing touch to the act.

The awkward silence that followed was deafening. Neil sat by the table, tapping his foot unconsciously. Kat seemed perplexed, glancing at you both, trying to understand. You would not even know how to explain it if she asked. Suddenly, a text alert pierced the silence, making you jump up. The device buzzed in the pocket of your pullover. With a shaking hand, you retrieved the phone and glanced at the display. TP.

“Fuck” you let out a curse as your eyes flitted over the text.

Passwords. To what? Hell knows.

“What is it?” Neil stood up and was at your side in a second.

You looked up, straight into his eyes. Whatever happened did not matter now. You both understood that.

“I don’t know…” biting down on your lip, you scanned the room, settling on a computer lying on the table, “Give me that laptop. Please” you gestured towards the device, urging him to catch up.

He did. Using those long legs that you always admired, he crossed the room in no time and handed you the laptop. Your hands were trembling as you typed in the passcodes and entered the folder where files from TP always appeared. It certainly did not help that Neil has perched on the armrest of the sofa and was looking over your shoulder. Or that his hand landed on the nape of your neck as he adjusted in the strange position. You swallowed hard, focused on finding the newest folder. Surely enough it was there. Password protected. You typed in the combination of letters and numbers from the text message and held your breath as the system loaded. A second later, you were staring at several files that appeared on the screen. Double-clicking on the first pdf, you opened up a map of a location.

“Is that…” Neil’s whisper came from right over your ear.

Breath ghosting over your neck, making you shiver. But there were more important matters to attend to. Shaking off the feeling, your eyes scanned the map.

“Stalsk-12” you read out loud, “I think this is our destination. TP sent those so we know what to expect” looking at Neil again, you were struck by the proximity.

He nodded, holding your gaze intently. You could see that he was processing what you said and all the implications. What the unexpected files could mean for you. And what were the critical steps to be taken.

“What do you mean he sent those? He’s-” Kat’s confused question made you both snap out of it.

It was terrifyingly easy to forget people other than Neil existed. Another issue to add to your list.

“I’m sorry, I really can’t explain it” you gave Kat the most regretful of smiles and opened a different file.

This one was a list of tips in a way. A short letter with instructions, addressed to you alone. Aware of the tension pervading the room, you scanned it, catching onto the things he mentioned. A tunnel leading to the dead-drop. Hypocenter in the middle of the Soviet secret city. Inverted and normal mercenaries. It sounded like something taken out of an action film. But, supposedly, that was your reality now.

“Anything good?” Neil chimed in, unable to control the anticipation.

You glanced at him again, catching the way he was staring at you rather than at the screen. The way the early morning sun reflected off his profile was tragic. The hair shone like rays of sunlight. The long eyelashes framed his eyes, making the blue stand out even more. Fucking masterpiece. He met your gaze warily, and his brows furrowed even more. That was the cue to answer his question. And to stop staring.

“He’s saying that the most crucial bit will be the lock leading to the dead-drop,” you explained, highlighting the line in the doc “And is sending you his regards,” adding, you gave Neil a small smile.

They were there alright. A final line, telling you to make sure he stays sane and alive. Worrying remark, but you were afraid the boss miscalculated your influence upon the blonde bastard. Maybe he was wrong about some things? Just as the man in question opened his mouth again, someone else entered the bridge, accompanied by the sound of heavy boots and puffs of air from the oxygen masks.

“Who’s saying what?” TP’s question made you frown as the man himself stepped into the room.

Of course, he’d hear that. Now came the dilemma you never knew you would have to face – how to tell your boss you have received information from his future, dead self? And how to make him believe you?

“We’ve got intel. About where we’re heading,” you were saved from answering the question by Neil, who stood up and faced the boss “It’s Siberia, isn’t it?”

Judging by the palpable shock and irritation on TP’s face, it was, in fact, Siberia.

“Who told you that?” the offensive edge to his voice felt like a flashback to Tallinn and the turnstile.

You would rather avoid a repetition of that. Standing up, you took a deep breath. Before anyone else could break-in, you spoke up:

“A very reliable source” when TP’s gaze settled on you, you shrugged.

Quiet confidence, right? A passing shadow of suspicion was not the most encouraging of signs.

“Reliable to who?” his gaze flitted between you and Neil.

Only now you realised how close you were standing to him. Your elbows brushed as you tried to think of an answer. Anything to win the case.

“All of us” Neil’s simple response made you look up at him.

His gaze was fixed on TP with adamant resolve. You felt like this was not the same man who had let his friend pin him to the wall and interrogate him in the most brutal of fashions. The boss sighed and looked at you again.

“How did you get it?”

Right…

“… password protected files” the half-truth felt like the worst of lies.

“From whom?” he pressed, all of the intensity of the dark stare on you.

You could only offer him another shrug and a remorseful look on your face. The scowl you got in response was concerning. But you could not give in.

“I know it sounds crazy, but it’s the best piece of information we could get. We’ve got terrain plans and intel about the dead-drop. Maybe with this, we can make it work” taking a step forwards, you hoped he can see the desperation in your eyes, “All you have to do is trust me” the addition felt necessary, even if hard to be spoken out loud.

The frown on TP’s face deepened as he sighed heavily.

“Bloody hell…” he glanced at the blonde man again, “Neil, what are you thinking?”

Only now you could feel how fast your heart has been beating. Or that sometime within the last few minutes, you have started to tremble.

“I trust her. With my life” Neil delivered the admission with the most neutral of tones.

Fuck. The heartbeat stumbled and then kicked back into action at twice the speed. Unable to stop yourself, you turned around to face him. Sure enough, he met your gaze with certainty. As though that was obvious. Well, maybe to him…

“And the fate of the world too,” he added after a beat, clearly highlighting what mattered more.

Another thing that did not make sense. You made sure he could see the confusion in your eyes as you gave him a formal nod. It was a public setting after all, and you need not make a scene in front of Kat and TP. But at least you had support in your fight, and that was perhaps most important right now.

“This intel is all we’ve got. We might as well make use of it,” Neil summarized, taking that step closer to you again.

You both faced the boss, taking concerning amounts of confidence from simply being able to do it together. You could see the internal battle on TP’s face. Worry, uncertainty, suspicion, conflict, trust…? Finally, he closed his eyes and exhaled slowly. When he looked at you again, you could tell that it was done. Only…

“If it backfires…” the unspoken hint of consequences if something went terribly wrong.

You just had to make sure it would not. Easy enough…right?

“If it does, then we’ll worry. For now, let’s get to work” Neil waved his hand dismissively, a rare genuine smile brightening up his face “The stage is yours,” tentatively, he placed his hand on your back, giving you a light push.

Permission to take over. Support and the inability to keep his hands off you. Enough to make you consider jumping off the afterdeck into the freezing depths of the Barents Sea. Because even that was better than approximately a week more of this. But the seals would have to wait. The blue eyes were fixed on you with a glimmer that seemed too affectionate for the state of the affairs. Let’s wipe it off with the best weapon available – the crushing weight of reality. You took a deep breath and began the explanation.

#tenet #neil tenet #neil tenet x reader #neil x reader #neil tenet imagine #neil tenet fanfic #tenet fanfic #robert pattinson #the art of inversion

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apprenticevida · 3 years

Text

Nuestra Alcoba Azul 🍋🔞

Word Count: 2,575 sorry I got carried away with this one

Pairings: Jinana/Vida

Synopsis: tear the bitch apart With renewed confidence Vida gets a taste of what the masquerade is all about

Notes: Day 3 of @midsummer-masquerade Day 3: Denial, Impact Play, some Worship and Collars

Thank you @the-iron-orchid for letting me work with Jinana! I hope I did hir justice.

Alcoba Azul by Lila Downs

Warnings: SPICY LEMON. Impact play, voyeurism, Praise and Punishment, BDSM, biting, masturbation, cunnilingus, orgasm denial/control, squirting, humiliation, subspace, nipple play, manual sex/no insertion

After bidding their lovers farewell and good luck, Vida saunters out of the room. With a renewed confidence in their sense of self and sensuality, they’re ready to experience everything the Masquerade has to offer.

As the witch wanders through the halls they hear cries of ecstasy from various rooms. Some are behind closed doors, others open to allow guests to join. Every once in a while they pass by a room with a shimmering barrier in the doorway; it’s meant to allow voyeurs to enjoy the show while allowing the performers the security of knowing they won’t be interrupted, a friendly guest informs them as Vida sips from a glass of vodka.

When they eventually find the grand ballroom, Vida discovers it’s been transformed into a large aftercare playroom. Plush beds with comforting blankets are spread out on the floor; massage oils, balms, and decanters of water are readily available on numerous low tables throughout the room.

They make a mental note to stop by before the end of the night.

Continuing their exploration brings them to a hallway full of “vendor” tables. No coins are being exchanged: the invitation explicitly stated that any toys or accessories procured were The Countess’s gifts to attendees.

A leatherworker’s wares catch their eye. Harnesses, leashes, and collars all colors of the rainbow are on display. With the help of the proprietor, they find a collar that fits snug against their throat. The band is black with intricate swirls and spirals carved into the leather with a gold O-ring at the center. Committing the name of the woman’s shop to memory (Rhett’s Wares), Vida promises to visit on their next trip to the market.

With the collar they announce their submissive inclinations to potential playmates. It’s thrilling to feel eyes roving over their figure and for now Vida is content with only being seen.

When a peacock-haired figure catches their eye Vida decides they’re ready for more.

Despite hir petite figure the mage radiates power and confidence. There’s something about hir that has ensorcelled Vida. They down the rest of their drink before walking over.

S/he’s lounging on a chaise opposite Nadia, who, as luck would have it, has excused herself to visit other revelers.

While they’re generally thrilled to please multiple dominants, seems a little too much too soon.

“Hello, I’m Vida.” The witch waves shyly when they’ve approached the unfamiliar mage.

The figure elegantly extends a delicate henna-laced hand

“Jinana,” s/he responds in a warm, husky tone. “A pleasure.” S/he eyes Vida top and down, evaluating them.

Vida takes hir hand and brushes their lips against hir knuckles.

“You’re… really beautiful.” Vida breathes against the lilac-scented skin. “Would you like to play with me?”

“Hmmm, that depends, Vida.” S/he rolls their name on hir tongue like a piece of candy. “What do you want to play?”

—————

It doesn’t take long to negotiate the scene and its boundaries. Surprisingly, there’s little they disagree on and their hard limits are the same.

Jinana leads Vida to a cobalt room decked with sapphire blue drapery and pristine white furniture.

“There’s a bath in the back, go freshen up and I’ll sort things out here.” S/he orders, gesturing to a folding screen that separates the spare room and alcove hiding the bath.

Vida’s thankful for the simplicity of their costume: once the clincher is unlaced they easily slide out of the crimson robe.

Their bath is diligent, if rushed. They don’t want to keep Jinana waiting, but s/he made hir preference for a bathed partner clear. They find a vial of vanilla oils to massage in when they’re dry and dress in a flowing white bathrobe before they return to their playmate.

There is a sawhorse in front of the door and two white chairs in the center of the midnight blue carpet. Jinana is seated in one with an end table with toys and vials next to hir. S/he gestures with an elegant hand for Vida to sit across from hir.

“Before we get started, priya, are you sure about the door?”

Vida sits in the chair, glancing at the closed door behind Jinana.

“Yes, ser. I’m sure.”

A smile plays on Jinana’s lips.

“As you wish.”

A flick of hir wrist and the door swings open, a shimmering barrier forming to separate the room and the hall.

…to allow voyeurs to enjoy the show while allowing the performers the security of knowing they won’t be interrupted…

“Now Vida” Jinana crosses one toned leg over the other. “How do you like to play?”

“Well, usually—”

“Ah-ah!” S/he chides, wagging one manicured finger towards hir companion. “Show, don’t tell.”

Vida feels their face flush as a shiver runs up their back. This was going to be a fun experience.

Vida catches their lower lip between their teeth as they nod in understanding. They spread their legs slowly, knowing the angle of the chair means Jinana’s view will be shared with any onlookers.

First they trail a few fingers down the side of their face and neck. When their hand meets the robe’s neckline they gently glide the silk away from their chest. A sensitive nipple pebbles under the fabric and hardens when it meets the cool air. With one hand they tweak and pull the nub while the other hand repeats the dance on the opposite side. When their breathing gets harder to control the shrug of the robe entirely.

With heavy lidded eyes they meet Jinana’s gaze, hir chin resting on one hand. The other holds a riding crop in an almost listless manner. There’s maybe a meter between the magic users; Vida can clearly see the fire burning in Jinana’s eyes behind hir silver filigree mask

Upping the ante, Vida let’s one hand stroke down their belly and to their already dripping cunt. It’s impossible for them to hold back a moan when one cold finger slides against their hard and swollen clit.

“Remember priya, no coming without permission.” Jinana’s voice is low and hir eyes dark.

“Yesser,” Vida slurs. Something about hir energy makes Vida want to bend to hir every command.

For a while the only noise in the room is the slick sound of the witch’s ministrations, punctuated by moans and gasps as they try to keep a steady rhythm.

By now a few guests have gathered by the door. Vida can hear the susurrus of conversation, but either the partygoers are too far away or Vida is too far gone to make it out.

The chair beneath then begins to creak as their hips buck against their hand. Their breathing comes quicker now. They’re close so close and they begin to lose their sense of control and

“Stop.”

Vida freezes with a gasp. Their cunt clenches in anticipation, as if to hold on to the edge of their release. Jinana stands from hir chair and taps the riding crop against hir free hand. The leather makes a satisfying thwack against the henna flower on hir palm.

“On your knees, priya.”

In the foggy subspace it takes a moment too long for hir words to register. Vida feels a hand push them from the chair to kneel in front of Jinana. Their head jerks around in an attempt to find an intruder but the room is empty behind them. Jinana taps their cheek with the crop and uses the leather implement to make them face hir.

S/he makes a tutting noise with her tongue in disapproval. “I thought you were going to behave. Although,” s/he lets the crop graze against their neck. “It seems someone else has had to call on your attention before.” They press the tag of the crop against the bruises on their neck and their eyes flutter shut at the pleasure-pain.

“Still, you did give a riveting performance. Would you like a reward, sweetling?”

Vida is dazed and their eyes won’t focus, but they innately know hir question needs an answer.

“Oh, yes please, ser. I’ll take whatever you think I deserve.”

For a moment Jinana is reminded of hir Ilya. They’re both very pretty when they’re on their knees begging in adoration. S/he files the thought away for later as s/he removes Vida’s mask.

Now, however, s/he lifts one foot into the chair behind Vida and pulls the front off hir dress aside.

“Well then?” S/he quirks a brow at hir submissive.

Vida’s eyes jump between the sights before and above them. They’re trying desperately to form the question in their mind.

“May I please touch you? With my hands I mean?”

Jinana smirks as s/he responds. “For now. Until I decide otherwise.”

Vida adjusts their position so Jinana’s thigh rests on their shoulder. They rest one hand on top of hir leg and the other on hir opposite hip. At first Vida wets their lips and leans their head forward before they stop. An idea pops into their hazy mind. They turn towards the leg on their shoulder and begin to trail soft kisses up Jinana’s thigh, squeezing hir leg every so often.

Their partner hums approval and threads hir fingers through Vida’s hair. Hir nails card through their silky curls; a low moan rumbles in Vida’s throat and into Jinana’s soft flesh.

The soft kisses on Jinana’s leg turn to kitten licks and then open-mouthed kisses until they slowly reach the apex of hir thigh. They take one more adoring glance at the mage before dragging the flat of their tongue along hir slit.

The smell of lilac mingled with Jinana’s musk makes a heady combination. Vida almost feels drunk off of their lust. As they lap at hir sex they moan into hir, fingers pressing into Jinana to anchor themself. They swirl the tip of their tongue against hir clit before gently sucking.

Jinana lets out a groan of pleasure and tightens hir grip to guide Vida to the right spot. S/he gives gentle praise when Vida begins to work their mouth against her. The hand Vida placed on Jinana’s hip slowly moves higher. They caress hir side, hir stomach, hir sternum before brushing their fingertips against a nipple.

With a gasp Jinana tugs Vida’s head away with one hand and snatches their wrist with the other.

“That,” s/he sighs. “Is cheating.”

Vida’s eyes go wide. Gripped as they are, they're at hir mercy. “Are you going to punish me, ser?” Their voice is thick with arousal and hope.

“Cheating does get punished.” S/he jerks hir head at the sawhorse and releases Vida. “Go.”

Still on their knees, Vida glances at the wooden structure. They swallow. “Which way would you have me face, ser?”

“Away from the door.”

Vida didn’t realize they could get any wetter than they were. Their legs are slick with their own lubricant as they stand and walk to the carpentry table. The table is at a height where they have to keep their feet spread wide when they bend over. Their face is red with embarrassment and it’s only made worse when they can’t keep their cunt from twitching from need and excitement.

“Five for cheaters. Count aloud,” is the only warning Jinana gives before the crop makes contact across the swell of their ass.

“One!” They shout at the floor.

The next strike is focused on one cheek.

“Two!” Their brow furrows.

The third lands on the other side.

“Th-three!” Vida can feel tears well up in their eyes. They have to rest their head against their forearms.

There’s a pause. A small warm hand strokes up their back and Vida’s head jolts upward.

“Do you need a break?” Jinana’s voice is as soothing as hir caress.

After a breath Vida shakes their head.

“I-I can take two more, ser.” They swallow and reposition themselves, pushing their ass out farther and widening their stance.

Jinana grins in amusement before getting back to work.

The fourth strike is at the top of their thighs, just enough to make a satisfying sound without stinging.

“Four!” Vida cries out loud and clear.

The final blow lands on their sex, the wet sound echoes in their mind.

“Five!” Vida’s voice is somewhere between a laugh and a sob. Their punishment is over, but neither of them have come yet.

“Very good, priya. You’ve done so well!” There’s genuine joy in Jinana’s voice and Vida’s heart swells. The shorter magician helps straighten the pliant Vida up and turns them to face the door.

Without their mask Vida somehow feels more vulnerable than they did when fully displaying their sex.

“You haven’t come yet, have you?” Jinana’s voice is almost taunting as Vida shakes their head in response.

“I’ll need to fix that. Sit down.” S/he summons a cushion onto the sawhorse and with one hand pressing on their shoulder guides them to sit. S/he walks behind Vida and begins to stroke one warm hand along their neck.

They already feel their eyes lid in pleasure as Jinana demonstrates how attentive s/he’s been. Hir hands accurately mimic Vida’s earlier actions. Jinana begins to add to the bite marks on their neck, hir small teeth indenting into their soft skin.

By the time hir hand reaches their small bundle of nerves Vida is a mess. They buck into hir fingers, push back into hir bites, pull away from hir fingers pinching their nipples. Their cries and moans of ecstasy are the only sounds they know how to make.

They’re coiled tighter than a spring, but Jinana hasn’t given permission yet. Cruel, lovely Jinana won’t talk with hir mouth full.

Not yet can’t yet so close so close please please please ser

“Come for me, Vida.”

Their orgasm crashes over them, toes curling as they scream. Legs splayed and thighs tighten as their hips chase the sensation. They feel the familiar sensation of their ejaculate release and have to hide their face in their hands in humiliation.

By the time they finish they’re trembling and Jinana holds them through their aftershocks. They don’t uncover their face until they hear the door close. Vida’s still beet red and their body feels overwhelmed and tender.

“How are you feeling?” Jinana asks as s/he strokes their hair.

“W-“ Vida takes a shaky breath. “Was I okay?”

“Oh you sweet thing!” Jinana holds them to hir chest. “You were lovely. But how are you feeling now?”

It takes time for Vida to self-process.

“Like I’ve been,” they make a clawing motion at their chest. “It’s like you tore everything out, but in the most perfect way. Everything feels… lighter? I guess? I feel… amazing.” They sigh.

“Do you need anything?”

Vida winces when they adjust their position. “A salve, I think.”

“I’m sure there’s something here. Let’s get you cleaned up.”

—————

After another bath and talking through the scene again with Jinana they put their costume and mask back on and leave the room. Any of their onlookers have gone to watch or join other scenes. Vida breathes a sigh of relief and says goodbye to Jinana.

Even with the salve Jinana applied, Vida needs a break. When they arrive at the ballroom they take an empty futon and sip water. Julian, sporting more marks than before, finds them here. Taking a seat next to them he strokes their leg and his face dons his incorrigible smirk.

“So… I didn’t know you knew Jinana.”

#the arcana #the arcana game #apprentice vida #fan apprentice #jinana #other people’s ocs #the-iron-orchid #vesuviaafterdark #midsummer masquerade #fan fiction #lemon #baby’s THIRD lemon #minors dni

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slytherinbarnes · 3 years

Text

Sub Rosa [76]

v. the gospel of josephine

Pairing: Bellamy Blake x reader

Word Count: 6.1k

Warnings: angst, anxiety, language, angst, drugging.

Summary: Something’s rotten in the state of Sanctum, and you’re hopeful you’ll soon find out what.

a/n: i officially finished writing and editing sub rosa yesterday! i can’t believe we are nearing the end of this journey! the taglist for this series is open! I hope you enjoy, please let me know what you think!!!

previous chapter // season masterlist // series masterlist

You wake up with a strong feeling of unease.

It’s strong enough to pull you out of sleep, strong enough to leave you feeling on edge for most of the morning. You don't know why or where it came from, considering the incredible night you had the night before, but it lingers around you, making you anxious. It’s strong enough that Bellamy notices and questions you about it, looking worried because you seem worried, but you reassure him that everything is okay, despite feeling like the opposite.

You eagerly head downstairs once you and Bellamy are ready, accounting for all of your friends and family, except for one.

Clarke.

That sends your nerves into overdrive, but Bellamy reminds you that she was having fun with Cillian the night before, and they left in a fury of passion, meaning she probably slept at his place. He convinces you to let it go and not worry just yet, before the two of you sit down at the bar with Murphy. He’s already drinking, despite it being pretty early in the day, and you follow suit, throwing back a shot of some awful alcohol as soon as you sit down beside him. He turns to you with an appreciative smirk. “Now that’s what I’m talking about. I like this version of you.”

You and Bellamy both answer, “Quiet, Murphy.”

He raises his hands in surrender, sliding the shot in his hand over to you, which you take with a nod of thanks and quickly throw back, the liquid burning as it moves down your throat. The boys both order something to sip on, and you sit between them, waiting for the alcohol to dull the sharp edges of your nerves. Eventually Jordan comes wandering into the bar, babbling something about Delilah being unlike herself, and when you all look at him in confusion, he takes a breath and says, “Something about Delilah seems off, so I brought her some daisies and gave them to her, reminding her that she told me daisies are her favorite flower. She took them without arguing, agreeing that those are her favorite.”

Bellamy shakes his head, still confused. You watch his curls bounce as they move, bringing you an odd sense of comfort. “So?”

“So, yesterday she told me her favorite flowers are Calla Lilies.”

Murphy smirks and looks over at you and Bellamy, “Calla Lilies are nice.”

Bellamy holds his gaze before they both start giggling, but you keep a straight face, listening to Jordan’s fears, wondering if it has something to do with your unease. “I'm serious, something happened in that reliquary. It's like she doesn't even know me. “

Bellamy advises, “Just play it cool, she'll come around.”

You snort, thinking of Bellamy’s version of playing it cool with you, which involved a lot of anger and insults, leaving the two of you at odds until you were in direct danger of dying. He looks at you with a small smile, “What?”

You hide your smile and answer, “Nothing.”

Murphy adds onto Bellamy’s advice with a shrug, “Yeah, that and, like, maybe don't get flowers for a one night stand.”

You hear the door to the tavern open and you spin around quickly, a rush of relief washing over you when you see Clarke standing at the door. You and Bellamy wave to her, and you start to relax, until you see the guard standing near the door, clearly keeping an eye on your twin. Your unease comes rushing back again, reminding you that something isn’t right, though you still don’t know what.

You see Madi jump up from her seat when she sees Clarke, running over and hugging her, speaking to her quickly before she runs off with a smile, grabbing her pack. You slide out of your seat when you see Gaia abruptly stand and step in Clarke’s way, and you start to move over to them, Bellamy following you, both of you catching the tail end of Gaia’s lecture to Clarke in Trigedasleng. “Wof em teik em nila reya? O, em’laik, ge jok op kom fayaslais?”

What if she skins her knee? Or, I don't know, gets a paper cut? You gather enough to guess that they must be talking about Madi, and Clarke glances at you as you approach, looking conflicted. You come to a stop beside Gaia, looking between them before your eyes land on your twin. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah, fine. Where are the others?”

Bellamy, up to date on everyone's whereabouts, answers first, “One of the Primes is showing Raven and Emori how to build a radiation shield.”

“Ryker?”

Bellamy nods, “Yeah, I sent Echo and Miller to watch their backs.”

Clarke turns to look at you, “And our mother?”

You sigh, “Still in the library. Jackson said he found her sleeping with her head on a book.”

Clarke nods, and then turns to Madi, who’s lingering nearby. “Speaking of books, let's get you to school.”

You and Gaia immediately start to argue, and you step closer to your twin, whispering low enough that only she can hear. “Clarke, what the hell? You just said yesterday it was too dangerous for Madi.”

She steps back with a smile, waving off your concern. “Chill out, she'll be fine.”

You give her a look of complete bewilderment, shocked to hear the words come out of her mouth. Even weirder, the tone of her voice sounds different, slightly higher pitched than normal. You turn to look at Bellamy, wondering if he’s catching onto her weirdness, and his brows are pulled together in confusion, but he looks more amused than anything. You, however, are not amused. You turn your gaze back to Clarke, repeating her words back to her. “Chill out?”

She shakes her head, not understanding your confusion. “What?”

You stare at her open mouthed, trying to figure out what to say, but Bellamy puts his hand on your arm, stopping you. He just smiles at Clarke, clearly enjoying this new side of her. “Nothing. We both just think that happiness looks good on you. I take it you had fun with the doctor?”

“Cillian?” A look of amusement passes over her face. “Let's just say it'll be a while until he recovers.”

You give her another weird look, unused to hearing anything about Clarke’s sex life. The two of you are close, but that’s not something either of you have ever really discussed. Hearing about it now, even in joke form, is strange. She doesn't seem to notice, because she starts to walk away, but you reach out and grab her arm, stopping her. “Wait, what’s up with the guard?”

“Apparently, people with blood like mine are a target. The Primes insisted.”

Blood like mine? You’re about to interrogate her further, but she pulls herself free from your grip with a smile. “Gotta go, don't want Madi to be late!”

And then she turns and heads towards the door before you can even make a sound of protest. Madi waves goodbye to you before she slips out the door, and you just stand frozen in place, dumbfounded. You’re pulled out of your shock when Gaia starts to rush past you and Bellamy, her pack in hand. Bellamy holds out an arm to stop her. “Gaia, slow down. Madi will be fine.”

You and Gaia both turn to look at him like he’s lost it too, and Gaia instantly argues, “Fine? They gave Clarke a bodyguard for being a Nightblood, and she just sends Madi to school?”

You’re interrupted by Blythe Ann, Delilah’s mother, walking over to the three of you, a tray on her hand. “Can I get you guys anything else?”

You shake your head, ready to finish your conversation with Gaia and Bellamy, but Jordan interrupts from his place beside Murphy. “Ma’am, can I ask you something?”

“Only if you call me BA.”

“What happened to Delilah last night?”

She freezes a little, and you can see her fighting back a wave of emotion as she robotically answers, “Our little girl became one with the Primes. You were there, what's wrong?”

Bellamy tries to stop the conversation before it gets into dangerous territory and threatens your fragile peace. “Ah, nothing's wrong.”

But Jordan answers her anyways, too determined to learn the truth, no matter what it may cost him, or the rest of you. “She's acting like she doesn't even know me, that's what's wrong.”

“Oh child, I miss her too. Priya's return blesses us all.”

She chokes out the last sentence, a forced smile on her face, before she turns away from all of you. Jordan walks closer to your group, looking very confused. “Priya's return blesses us all? What does that even mean?”

Gaia snaps back, “It means that they believe in something. That faith should be respected.”

She turns and stalks off, presumably to keep an eye on Madi, which you’re thankful for. Right now, Bellamy can sense the growing tension, and he turns to Jordan with a look of sympathy. “Jordan, we're guests here, and we need their help. I'm sure whatever happened between you and Priya-”

Jordan cuts him off, looking annoyed. “Delilah. It happened between me and Delilah. I know you think you need to protect us all because you couldn't protect Octavia, but I can take care of myself.”

You see a look of hurt pass over Bellamy's face at the mention of Octavia, but he doesn't get a chance to say anything in return, because Jordan turns and stalks off, leaving the two of you in the tavern. You reach out and squeeze his hand in comfort, but then your unease washes over you, reminding you of its presence, and you shake your head, looking out the door of the tavern. “Clarke seems off.”

Bellamy gives you a doubtful look. “She seems fine. Happy, even.”

“She told me to chill out, Bellamy. When has Clarke ever said chill out? In fact, when has Clarke herself ever chilled out?”

“She probably just picked it up from the doctor.”

“After one night?” He shrugs, and you cross your arms over your chest, challenging him. “Okay, and what about what she said about the guard? ‘People with blood like mine’? Why wouldn't she say blood like ours? Or Nightblood?”

Bellamy just shakes his head. “She probably just misspoke. I know you’re on edge today, but everything is fine, la lune.”

You give him a surprised look and whisper, “You never call me la lune.”

“Is that okay? I’ve always felt like it was a family only thing, and I didn't wanna assume-”

You cut him off by reaching out and pulling him into a kiss, silencing all of his fears. You pull away enough to say, “Yu laik ai seingeda.”

You are my family. His face splits into a grin and he whispers back, “And you are mine.”

“Good.” You step back a little, looking up at him. “This better not be the end of blainen natshana though. I like that nickname too.”

“It won’t be, I just like to have options.” You laugh, shaking your head at him, your earlier unease temporarily forgotten. Bellamy takes advantage of the moment and nods towards the bar. “I got access to a map earlier today, you wanna look it over?”

“Sure.”

He walks over to the bar and grabs the map, rolled up and waiting, along with Murphy, dragging him over to a little table to join the two of you as Bellamy unrolls the map for all of you to look over. It’s pretty bleak, most of the map labeled as uncharted territory, which Bellamy mentions. “200 years, this is all they mapped.”

Murphy muses, “Why leave when you're safe, right?”

You turn to Murphy with a smirk, “Oh, come on, Murphy. Where's your sense of adventure? We're pioneers!”

“I don't want to be pioneers. Pioneers find the red zone and wind up dead, or get caught in randomly occurring, psychosis inducing eclipses. You really want to go through that again?” Bellamy absentmindedly grazes the stab wound on his thigh, and your fingers ghost over the bruises on your neck. Once he’s sure neither of you want to experience that again, Murphy adds, “I've been asking around. Apparently, this whole thing's built on top of cave systems. The bugs start to freak out, the party goes underground.”

Bellamy shrugs, “Right, so we find our own cave system, and Raven builds us a radiation shield. Murphy, we can't stay here forever. And even if we could, what about the other 400 of us?”

Murphy looks ready to argue Bellamy’s point when the intercom in Sanctum fires up, announcing the start of a funeral. You all pause and listen, and as it finishes, Blythe Ann calls out to the three of you, “Rose is being offered to the woods. All of you are welcome.”

“Thank you.”

Murphy glares at Bellamy. “Don't even think about asking me to go to that funeral. Seriously, take Jordan. It'll get his mind off of being dumped.”

You all look around the tavern, searching for him. “Where is Jordan anyway?”

Bellamy sighs, rolling up the map as he looks towards the door. “I think I know where he is, come on.”

You start to follow Bellamy when he steps away from the table, but Murphy stays firmly rooted in place. Bellamy glances back at him, reminding him of your earlier joke. “Hey, suit yourself. But if he gets us kicked out, you're a pioneer.”

Murphy rolls his eyes and stands, following you and Bellamy out of the tavern. You all watch as people file towards the stairs to head into the woods, and Bellamy waits until no one is looking your way before he leads you over to the palace, careful to weave between buildings and stay hidden. The three of you run up the hill to the palace, but instead of going up the stairs to the main building, you jog to the door on the bottom level, the one that leads to the reliquary. When you reach the door, the keypad is hanging off, the wires exposed. “Like father, like son.”

Bellamy pushes the door open slowly, hesitant, checking to make sure no one is waiting for all of you on the other side. Once he sees that it’s clear, he slips inside, motioning for the two of you to follow him. You step into a large room, mostly dark, save for the light that comes through a window in the center of the room, casting an eerie glow on the room full of...skeletons. You get a chill down your spine, bringing back your unease in full force as you look at the skeletons lined up in the center of the room and Murphy mutters, “You gotta be kidding me. Which part of ‘I hate dead people’ did you not understand?”

“Quiet, Murphy.” Murphy gives Bellamy a look but goes silent, but you shake your head, agreeing with Murphy. “Bellamy, I don’t like this.”

Bellamy gives you a reassuring look before he calls out into the room, “Jordan, we know you're in here.”

Jordan steps out of the shadows, looking at the three of you, and Bellamy shakes his head. “What the hell are you doing?”

“What you would've done, the you before Praimfaya anyway. That was my favorite Bellamy.”

The door behind you suddenly closes, and you look towards it in shock, eyes falling on Gaia. You nod, “You too?”

“They worship Nightbloods. I'd like to understand why that is.”

Murphy quips, “I'd like to leave. There's no way I'm getting thrown out of the one safe place on this moon because you got dumped.”

Gaia starts to wander over to the skeletons, looking at them closely, while Jordan disappears to the back wall, looking it over. You, Bellamy, and Murphy all linger near the door, not too eager to get closer to the skeletons, when the door slides open again and Clarke steps into view. Her tone is scolding as she looks you all over, “This is Sanctum's holiest place, you shouldn't be here.”

You give her a weird look, wondering why she gives a shit about Sanctum’s holiest place, and she must catch it because she gives you a sheepish look. “I'm sorry. I just, uh, I saw you on the steps.”

“Does that mean your bodyguard could too?”

She nods, “Good point, let's take this outside.”

But Gaia argues from her spot nearby, “Not yet.” You look over at her, watching her run a finger over the back of one of the skulls, her expression one of awe. “The mark of the Flame? They're all Commanders.”

You exchange a look with Bellamy before you walk over to the skeleton, seeing the infinity symbol imprinted on the back of the skull. You think of your first day in Sanctum, of the flag Emori pointed out to all of you. “That's why the symbol was on the flag.”

Bellamy starts to walk among the skeletons, coming to a stop in the center of the room, looking around at them. “The ones in the front row must be the original Eligius team, there's 12 of them. Oh, and they take kids.”

Clarke counters, “Familial love is a powerful motivator. People will do anything to ensure the survival of the ones they love. Now let's ensure our survival and get the hell out of here.”

You all start to step towards her, intending to leave, until you hear the scrape of a door opening. When you follow the sound, you see Jordan standing at an open door, and you all walk over to join him, flicking on a light inside the newly exposed room. You get another chill when your eyes land on an operating room, fresh Nightblood staining a pile of gauze near the operating table in the center of the room. Murphy eyes it with unease. “Operating room attached to a crypt. Really?”

Jordan spots something and rushes inside, grabbing a pile of pink fabric, neatly folded and placed on a table. He holds it up for the rest of you to see, “She was here. This was Delilah's, I'm sure of it! Still think I'm overreacting?”

You all step into the operating room, and Bellamy looks your way as he begins to think out loud. “Okay, let's think this through. Becca created the Flame after apocalypse one. She obviously provided the tech to Eligius III before that. That means that-”

Gaia cuts him off, voice full of realization. “They're not Commanders.”

You look at your boyfriend, fighting back your growing anxiety. “So what the hell are they?”

Jordan spots a computer on the other side of the room and makes a beeline for it, plopping into the chair and firing it up. “Let's find out.”

You all gather around him as he starts to type away on the keyboard, and Murphy jokes, “Monty taught him how to hack too. That's my kind of parenting.”

Jordan clarifies, “No hacking needed. The Eligius systems all use the same access code.”

He types in the access code, clicking on a few things until he pulls up a list of video files. You quickly scan the names of the files, pointing out one that sounds promising. “Eureka, try that.”

Jordan clicks on the file, and a bearded man appears on the screen in full view. Behind him is a second man, much older, and a young woman tied down to the operating table that stands behind you. You watch the man take a deep breath and begin, “Here we go again. Today's subject is Brooke, Earth embryo 47. Presents with black blood; 21 Earth years old, 22 doing time in the incubator.”

You and Bellamy exchange a look as the other man encourages, “You can do this, Gabriel. Twenty five years of work, the failures. This is the one.”

Gabriel continues, “If I'm right, the reason all previous metempsychosis trials have failed is because the host's neuroanatomy was not developed enough to support the file size of a mature human mind.”

File size of a mature human mind? You hate the sound of that, and you glance over at your twin, searching for the unease you’re sure she must feel. You’re surprised to find her expression passive, not yet concerned with the events on screen. You turn back to the screen as you hear the girl start to struggle, watching as Gabriel injects something into her arm, and she eventually grows still. You all watch in horror as Gabriel stands staring at the screens around the room, monitoring scans of the girl’s brain, muttering about different areas going dormant. Jordan’s voice is a quiet whisper when he chokes out, “Did they just kill that girl? Did we just watch someone die?”

None of you answer, too enthralled with what’s on the screen, because now the two men are holding up a small piece of hardware, reminding you so much of the Flame. “The body's ready.”

And just like the Flame, they insert it into the back of her neck, though they don't use any passphrases. They just cut the girls neck open and insert the tech inside before stitching her up again, and then they sit back and wait. Jordan skips through the video a little, the two men waiting for a while, playing it again as the young girl blinks awake slowly and the older man calls out, “Something's happening, she's waking up. Josephine, can you hear me?”

At the mention of the name, you go completely still, looking over at your twin, remembering what she told you yesterday. But still, her expression is impassive, seemingly unshocked to hear the name. When she senses you looking at her she meets your eyes, her expression turning to one of worry once you lock gazes. You mutter to the others, “Josephine was Russell’s daughter.”

You turn back to the screen as the girl lets out a blood curdling screen, and you turn back in time to watch her fall off the operating tables and scramble back into the corner. Gabriel drops in front of her, moving slowly, trying to soothe her, and he finally whispers, “I've spent the last 25 years trying to bring you back.”

The other man tries to get close to Josephine, but she presses herself into the glass at her back, trying to get away. Gabriel starts to soothe her, whispering, “It's okay, it's okay. It wasn't his fault, it was the red sun.”

“The eclipse, I was right.”

Gabriel nods, “Yes, you were. It turns out it affects more than just insects.”

Josephine seems to think for a minute, before a realization hits her. “Our memory drives. You reverse engineered them to upload our entire minds. That's brilliant!”

You look at Bellamy, both of you looking horrified as you start to put the pieces together. On screen, Josephine hugs both men, but you ignore it, too focused on looking at your twin, trying to gauge her reaction. But when you look her way, she just seems lost in her own head, a faraway look on her face. You reach out and take her hand, bringing her back to you as Gabriel concludes, “The key is a fully developed brain. Once the adult host's consciousness is gone, the mind stored in the drive uploads with ease. Now, we still have loads of tests to run, but so far, Josie's consciousness, herself, appears to be whole. In other words, eureka. More soon.”

And then the video ends, leaving all of you staring at the screen, stunned. Murphy is the first to break the silence. “They're immortal.”

Jordan counters, “They're murderers. They murdered Delilah.”

Clarke shakes her head, looking at all of you. “It's not murder if they go willingly.”

Jordan’s anger rises, his voice breaking as he yells, “Did that girl look willing to you?!”

Gaia adds, disgusted, “That's how they made it better, easier, by manipulating people into believing they were sacrificing themselves to some false gods. 'Becoming one with the primes' like Delilah's mother said.”

“Well, so much for respecting their faith.” You all look at Murphy in shock, and he adds, “I mean, no offense. You let a bunch of kids fight to the death to become your God.”

“Murphy, that's enough.” Bellamy turns to your twin, who has now dropped your hand and stepped away a little, silent. “Clarke, you're okay with this?”

“Well, I didn't say that. I just don't think they pose a threat to us, that's all.”

You turn to her incredulous, not understanding how she isn’t more bothered by this. “Clarke, they literally pose a threat to you because they know you're a Nightblood! And based on what we just saw, I'm thinking that's the only reason they let us stay!”

Gaia starts to step away, face pulled into horror as she moves to the door. “Madi.”

You feel a wave of nausea roll over you at the thought of your Nightblood niece away from all of you, potentially in harm's way. Gaia looks at you, “I have to get her before they find out what she is.”

You nod, letting her know you agree, and Clarke calls out, “I'll go with you.”

As she starts to walk past you, Bellamy says, “Bring her back to the tavern so we can decide what to do.”

Clarke nods, and you watch her leave, following Gaia, before the rest of you step back into the creepy skeleton room, now understanding that these are all the bodies from the previous hosts. Jordan stands in front of the one labeled Priya, looking absolutely devastated. “These are all her.”

Bellamy looks towards him, his voice low. “Jordan, I'm sorry I doubted you.”

Jordan nods, silently accepting his apology, before Bellamy adds, “Log out of the system, we need to cover our tracks.”

Jordan heads back into the lab to hide any evidence that you were even here, and the two of you turn to Murphy, who lets out a sigh. “I hate to say it, but I agree with Clarke. This isn't our fight.”

You give him a confused look. “You still want to stay?”

“I want to live, only these people know how to do that forever, as it turns out. That wouldn't suck either.”

Bellamy shakes his head, pretending he isn't hearing what he's hearing from Murphy. “Reattach the keypad outside the tunnel. We're right behind you.”

Murphy looks at him for a long second before he nods and steps out the door, leaving you and Bellamy alone in the center of the room. You look at each other, unease surrounding you both, your boyfriend appearing just as anxious as you are. “Right now, they only know Clarke is a Nightblood. We need to make sure they don't find out about you and Madi. It’ll be much easier to keep Clarke safe if she’s the only one we need to protect.”

You nod, tears welling up in your eyes as you think about the danger the three of you are in, now at risk of being body snatched by a group of people you could care less about. “I’m scared, Bellamy.”

He pulls you into his arms, holding you tight against him as he whispers into your hair, “I am too, but I’ll keep you safe.”

You both pull away when you hear Jordan come out of the lab, turning off the light and closing the door behind him. You give him a serious look, “Everything taken care of?”

“No one will ever know we were here.”

“Good.” You look at the skeletons, circled around you like a small army. “Then let’s get the hell out of here.”

The three of you slip out of the door and join Murphy outside, the suns of Sanctum now set, darkness now blanketing the village. You realize now all of you must have been in there for a while, and you hope no one noticed your absence while you were gone. You, Murphy, Bellamy, and Jordan all head back to the tavern, opening the doors to find everyone has returned from the funeral held for Rose. You grab one of the larger tables, plopping down into a chair while the boys grab drinks, setting them around the table before settling into their spots. Bellamy slides into the chair beside you, both of you pressed together, seeking each other’s comfort to keep your unease at bay. Gaia, Madi, and Clarke come into the tavern a few minutes later, joining you at your table. Clarke sits at the head and Madi sits across from you, while Murphy sits across from Bellamy and Jordan and Gaia sit at the other end.

You fill Madi in on everything you’ve learned since seeing her last, letting her know how much danger all of you are truly in. Clarke sits silently through the whole thing, allowing you and Bellamy to catch her up, and at the end of the rundown, Madi turns to Clarke, noticing her silence. “Clarke, you realize staying says we're okay with what they're doing.”

“Yeah, and what's the alternative?” You all look over to Murphy, who takes a sip of his drink before continuing, “Go back to space? Sleep for another hundred years on our way to a planet even less likely to support life?”

“Build our own compound. Emori, Echo and Raven will be back in the morning. They'll know everything we need to build a radiation shield. After that, it's just hard work.”

Murphy counters, “Over how many lifetimes? No, seriously, how many eclipses? How many swarms? How many terrorist attacks?”

Clarke nods, “I agree with John.”

You look at Clarke, brows pulling together. John? Never in the time since meeting Murphy have any of you called him John, other than Emori and your mom. But Clarke continues speaking like she didn't just say the weirdest thing you’ve ever heard. “I don't like who they are either, but we need them to survive.”

You glance at Bellamy, who is watching Clarke closely, and you spare a glance at Murphy, who also picked up on the weird name drop moment. You shake your head at her, looking at Clarke like you have no idea who she is. “What the hell is wrong with you? You’re way too calm about this, Clarke.”

She opens her mouth to answer, but Jordan, who has had his eyes locked on Priya across the room, speaks before Clarke can get the chance. “They're murderers, raising people to give up their bodies, brainwashing them into believing they're gods.”

“He's right. It's a perversion of everything Bekka Pramheda believed. The Flame was about passing wisdom on to the next line, not keeping it all to yourself.”

Murphy, ever critical of the Grounder religion, counters, “Yeah, well, no offense, but Becca wasn't a god either. She was a scientist who made herself a Nightblood in the lab the same way Abby did to Clarke.”

Out of the corner of your eye, you see Clarke freeze up a little, shocked by the words. You turn to her, about to ask what’s wrong, when Jordan suddenly bolts from the table, practically running over to Priya. You and Bellamy jump up after him as he snaps at the Prime, “I know what you did.”

You and Bellamy each grab one of Jordan's arms, holding him back and warning, “Hey, bad idea.”

Jae looks at Jordan with concern. “Is everything okay here?”

“How can you be okay? She was your child.”

Priya seems to understand what’s happening, because she turns to face Jordan head on. “I know you miss Delilah, hallowed be her name. But she's happy, Jordan. She wants you to know that.”

The words freeze Jordan up just enough for you and Bellamy to drag him back to the table and force him into his chair. As you reach the table, you see that one of the chairs is now empty, your group missing one person.

Clarke.

You look around the tavern, eyes falling on a blonde haired person slipping out of the building without another word. You turn to Bellamy, your voice low enough for just him to hear, and you whisper, “Something is wrong with Clarke, and she’s walking out of the tavern right now. We have to talk to her.”

He nods, backing you up, and the two of you jog to the exit of the building, stepping out into the cool night air, searching for Clarke. Bellamy spots her first, walking just ahead past a row of buildings, and the two of you walk quickly behind her, calling out, “Clarke!”

She turns around, stopping in place, looking at you with concern. “Everything okay?”

Something inside of you tells you to answer in Trig. You don't know why, but you listen to the voice, answering, “Flish em of. Osir gaf in chich yu op soulou. Kom nau.”

Get rid of her. We need to talk to you alone. Now. She looks at you for a long second, face blank, and you glance at Bellamy, finding that he is just as confused. Clarke was fluent in Trigedasleng long before the rest of you, thanks to her three months of isolation after Mount Weather, and it’s never taken her so long to translate before. But she finally does, turning to look at the guard that lingers nearby. “Give us a minute.”

The guard stands up straighter, indicating that she’s going nowhere, and Clarke sighs and motions to the building beside you. “Fine, we'll go in here.”

You and Bellamy follow her inside, turning on her as soon as she closes the door. “Where were you going?”

“To see our mother. What's wrong?”

You shake your head at her. “How are we on different sides of this?”

“I know how they survive seems harsh. But from what I've seen, these people are happy. Their world works, we destroyed ours.”

Bellamy gives her a hard look. “This isn't about us.”

“So we can judge them but not ourselves?”

“You know I judge myself every day.” Bellamy looks over at you, his eyes telling you he’s going to test a theory as he walks closer to her, answering in Trigedasleng. “You want to know the difference between us and them? Ai sin in feis-de kom keryon ai don rip klin ona flashpa, nou ona fleta.”

I see the faces of the people I've killed when I dream, not in the mirror. Clarke stares at him for a long second, and then she asks, “I'm sorry. Can you repeat that last phrase? It sounds like Flashpa means flashback. So was it a dream?”

You freeze in place, the sudden roar of blood rushing in your ears the only thing you hear. You look at your twin, the pieces suddenly falling into place. The uneasy feeling you’ve had all day, the weird language, strange behavior. Bellamy connects the dots too, because he grabs Clarke and slams her into the wall of the building, pinning her in place with his arm at her neck. “Who are you?”

She surprises you by stabbing him in the neck with something, and you watch Bellamy fall to the ground, your stomach sinking with dread. You run over to him, calling out, “Bellamy!”

You drop down to Bellamy’s side, eyes catching the rise and fall of his chest, your fingers reaching up to his neck to check his pulse. You sigh in relief as it thumps steadily beneath your fingers, and your brain registers the feeling of danger seconds before you feel a prick in your neck. Clarke drops something near your feet, and you get a glimpse of it as you start to fall, some sort of Sanctum tranq stick. You hit the ground beside Bellamy, panicking when you realize that you can't move, cant speak, can't scream. Your body is frozen for real this time, triggered by something in the sedative, and the only thing you have control over is your eyes. You see darkness creeping up at the edge of your vision, and your eyes are wide with fear as Clarke’s face drops into your line of sight, a smile on her face as she answers Bellamy’s earlier question. “Josephine Lightbourne, nice to meet you.”

You feel a rush of crushing anguish, and if you weren't temporarily paralyzed you're sure that you’d fall apart, letting out a scream that would break this entire moon in half. Tears immediately flood to your eyes instead, blurring your vision as the darkness rushes closer, your mind running over one thought over and over. Once the adult’s consciousness is gone. Josephine Lightbourne, nice to meet you. Once the adult’s consciousness is gone. Josephine Lightbourne, nice to meet you. Once the adult’s consciousness is gone. Josephine Lightbourne, nice to meet you.

The last realization you have before you get sucked into the darkness is that Clarke Griffin, your sister, your twin, your shining star,

is dead.

Gone forever.

next chapter

#the 100 #the 100 rewrite #bellamy blake #bellamy blake x reader #bellamy blake fanfiction

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clan-sayeed-fic · 4 years

Text

Let me earn your trust (Kamilah Sayeed & MC)

Previous chapters: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9

Book: Bloodbound (property of Pixelberry Studios) Pairing: Kamilah Sayeed & MC: Amy (I do not own those characters, they're the property of Pixelberry Studios as well) Warnings: fluff/ a little smut Rating: Mature Author's note: I'm not a native English speaker, I'm sorry for any mistakes (feel free to correct me).

I'm super excited to share this chapter with you. It took me a while to post it, I know... I am not sure if I’ll be able to post another one tomorrow, but if not, be prepared for it on Thursday.

Enjoy the slow burn!😘

~ 2000 words

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Chapter 10

Kamilah wasn't surprised when she didn't meet Amy in the morning. She prepared herself that the girl would oversleep.

It actually made her feel relieved. Even though she agreed on taking Amy with her to work, the unsureness didn't let her sleep last night. Kamilah was avoiding Amy for the past two weeks, and now they were supposed to spend the whole day together.

That's why she didn't even bother with waking up the human. Kamilah made it clear about how she would feel toward lateness. Moreover, she had no time for such thing as waking up some mortal. Getting this thought out of her head, she grabbed the keys and purse before stepping into the elevator.

When she got out, the view she found in the garage made her stop for a moment.

Cause there she was: Amy with a pretty smile on her face. She was standing next to the red cabriolet with a closed, black roof. If it wasn't enough to surprise, she had prepared a cup of coffee for Kamilah.

The woman took the coffee with suspicion and told Amy to take a seat. Then, she sat in the driver's seat without another word.

Amy couldn't stop a grin on her face. Kamilah undoubtedly sensed her enthusiasm but ignored it successfully. She left her purse on the back seat, acting like this morning was no different than the others.

"I impressed you, didn't I?" finally Amy asked, she couldn't hold back the pride in her voice.

"It takes a lot more to impress me," Kamilah drove them out of the garage, not caring to look at the girl.

"But, you were surprised to see me awake?" Amy bit her lower lip in anticipation of the response.

You truly disarm me, Kamilah thought. But she would never say that aloud. Instead, she answered mysteriously.

"You could say that," Kamilah let her win, holding back a smile.

Amy was satisfied. She looked out the window as they drove past the city in sweet silence.

***

They headed directly to Kamilah's office. Amy was astonished by how much respect workers showed to their CEO. Everyone greeted her happily. Even if Kamilah's responses were much more stoic, it was clear that she respected her employees equally much.

One thing was known for sure, Kamilah Sayeed couldn't have gone completely ignored.

When they walked on the right floor, the young woman greeted them with the most precious smile. It seemed weird that someone this cheerful was working as Kamilah's personal assistant.

"Welcome, Ms. Sayeed. And..." she looked in shock at the person who accompanied the woman.

It was a rare look to see someone different than Adrian as a quest in Kamilah's office. She usually had meetings in the conference room, even those private ones.

"I'm Amy," the girl shook her hand, excited by finally having a chance to see someone.

"It's nice to meet you," the assistant would be much more interested in the relationship between both women than Amy's name. "Would you like something to drink?"

"Um..." Amy was rethinking the question when Kamilah interrupted.

"She would not," the woman unlocked doors from her office and opened them wide, gesturing Amy to walk in. "Shall we?"

Amy gulped ashamed but stepped inside as she was told.

She looked around carefully, taking the surroundings in. It was similar to Kamilah's penthouse, decorated in the same style. Modern, with huge, dark windows, like the ones in Kamilah's car. Here as well, she saw artifacts hanging on the walls as the decoration.

Kamilah left her purse on the table while Amy was looking over the place. The woman wrote something down on the piece of paper. Her voice echoed, interrupting Amy's thoughts.

"I have a job for you," Kamilah said, giving her the note. "I want you to go to the library in this building and find these books. Then, I want you to read them."

"You want me to read?" Amy was shocked and quite disappointed.

"It's a valuable gift, being able to read," Kamilah teased.

Amy fought the urge to roll her eyes, knowing that Kamilah was watching her reactions. She didn't want to give her the pleasure of seeing Amy unsatisfied with the task. Kamilah wouldn't pass the opportunity to say something about how much Amy insisted on coming with her to work.

"As you wish," Amy said with a smile since she came up with an excellent idea.

Kamilah was sure that thanks to her plan, she would finally work in silence.

She couldn't be more wrong.

***

Kamilah was sitting behind her desk.

She was checking statistics about her company. That was usually the first thing that she was doing after she got to work. In this business, everything could change overnight.

Her thoughts traveled to the girl that she brought to her work. She made Amy go to the library, which was on the first floor of Ahmanet Financial. Did she do this on purpose? To get rid of the girl, and to have a chance to focus...

Kamilah looked again on the screen of her laptop, trying to concentrate on the charts. At that moment, she heard steps growing louder outside.

To her great astonishment, the doors opened. And Amy appeared in her office with three old books in her hands.

"I thought you would stay in the library," Kamilah said, taking off her glasses.

"I thought the same, but there were so many people down there, I couldn't concentrate," Amy said, putting books aside. "Wait, no, there was absolutely no one there,'' she said, sarcastically, ''and it was so quiet, so I decided to read here."

"That's how libraries work, they should be quiet," Kamilah felt amused by Amy's sentence. "How did you manage to get these out of there?"

Amy looked at the books as she sat down on the couch near the coffee table.

"I thought that it would be difficult," she smiled at this memory, "so I mentioned you." Amy stared into Kamilah's eyes, "people react differently after hearing your name."

Kamilah smiled, quite dazzled.

"I need to upset you," the woman said, dismissing her thoughts, "it would be quiet here too."

"It's okay," Amy was already lost in the book, making herself comfortable on the couch.

Kamilah looked at her for one more second before getting back to her work. She felt warmth spreading in her chest against her own will. But, what fascinated her most was that she finally felt ready to concentrate since Amy was near her.

She made her read books about the history of vampires and Bloodkeepers. Technically, every title that she wrote on the paper included the word: Bloodkeeper.

At first, Amy read in silence. But after some time, she couldn't help it but ask Kamilah about discussed topics in the books. In the beginning, the woman seemed to be annoyed with Amy interrupting her. Soon after, Kamilah found herself enjoying the company.

Sometimes they strayed off the subject and chatted about Kamilah's past. It didn't refer to anything personal, it seemed more like a history lesson to Amy. And one thing was clear, Amy was taking this moment to get to know this woman as much as she would let her at that moment.

***

Amy was silent for half an hour now. She must have found an intriguing subject.

Kamilah, not used to the girl being quiet, raised her gaze from paperwork to look at her. She saw Amy being focused on the book. Her wavy blonde hair fell on her light skin. She had the habit of touching her lower lip with her thumb while she was focusing. Kamilah felt lost in this view.

Amy finished reading. She was looking ahead with the same look on her face. She stopped playing with her lips for a moment.

"What is on your mind?" this time, Kamilah was the one who asked.

Amy looked at her as she got her out of her thoughts. Eyes full of desire.

"Um..." Amy shook her head with a sigh before continuing, "Did you know, that someday, I might be able to have control over vampires? Like a mind-controlling.''

"I do, indeed," Kamilah put her glasses aside, feeling that Amy would not let go quickly this time. "Moreover, I presume that you already did that."

Amy looked at her without understanding.

"I did?" she was confused.

"At Priya's party," Kamilah was quite shocked that Amy didn't think of that.

"Oh..." Amy didn't feel proud of it. "Then, it happened by mistake. What I am talking about now is being able to control the vampires consciously."

"Would you like that?" Kamilah smirked, teasing her.

Amy didn't answer the question. Instead, she put the book aside and stood up, making her way to Kamilah's desk. She stopped on the opposite side of it. It made Kamilah lean back on her chair with a question in her eyes.

Amy put her hands on the table and let her upper body move forward ever so slightly. Creating an illusion between acting submissive and dominant.

"Kamilah," she said with a husky voice while keeping intensive visual contact with the woman. "Can you say," Amy quickly rethought her sentence before continuing, with a shy smile, "that us, living together, is what you wanted for a long time?"

Kamilah stood up slowly as she was under someone's influence. She put her hands in the same way right next to Amy's. And slowly leaned into her, faces close to each other.

"Amy, us, living together. It's..." seductive whisper, sending hope over Amy's body, "not working." Kamilah finished with a mischevious smirk.

Amy laughed at first at her naiveness, looking down at the table.

When she lifted her gaze to meet Kamilah's eyes again, the tension between them was already perceptible in the air.

Kamilah dropped her gaze for a second, looking at Amy's lips. She took in her features before finally staring back into her beautiful, light, green eyes. It made Amy swallow hard, which seemed to compliment Kamilah, making her smirk with satisfaction.

Amy felt Kamilah's fingers gently stroking her palm, working it's way up her arm. She gave into this hardly noticeable touch. It made her close her eyes and bit lower lip, feeling Kamilah's gaze as she examined Amy's reactions. The heat raised inside Amy's body. Shit, Amy cursed in thoughts angry at herself for reacting this way at one stroke of Kamilah's hand. She wasn't even sure if it was from the touch or just the fact that she looked at her with such desire in her eyes.

Kamilah gently tucked hair that fell on Amy's face behind the girl's ear. Amy leaned into her touch from the moment she felt the warmness of Kamilah's hand against her cheek. Then, she opened her eyes, seeing Kamilah's face just an inch from her.

The woman saw for a split of seconds how Amy's eyes returned green from its golden color. She found it very flattering.

Kamilah's hand moved from the cheek to Amy's neck while she leaned more, closing the distance between them.

It felt like forever when Kamilah's lips got closer to Amy's, making her heartbeat increase. Forever before, she could smell the woman's perfume. Feel the warmth of her body even without directly touching it.

Forever before, the phone rang.

Amy stepped back automatically. Partly scared by a loud sound, but mostly overwhelmed with emotions.

Kamilah answered the phone, still looking at Amy. After she heard the first words, she turned her back and listened carefully.

Maybe, if Amy tried to focus on voice talking through the phone, she would hear the conversation. But clearly, focusing was not the easiest under those circumstances.

Finally, Kamilah hung up and turned around to Amy. The girl could already tell by the look on her face that something was not right.

"What was that about?" Amy asked.

"I had to move the date of the Council meeting about Lily," Kamilah was deadly serious.

"Wasn't it supposed to happen next week?" Amy remembered that they were supposed to have plenty of time to convince the Council members on voting in favor of Lily's case.

"It was," Kamilah sat down in her chair, Amy never saw her so devastated.

"Kamilah," Amy could feel her stomach getting tight. "When is this supposed to happen?"

The woman looked into her eyes.

And Amy knew that she would not like the answer before she could even hear it.

"Tomorrow."

Next chapter: 11

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tag list: @onyxgaytrash, @lightning-fury, @scarlet-letter-a0114, @caliseds

#kamilah sayeed #kamilah x mc #kamilah #bloodbound kamilah #bloodbound mc #bloodkeeper #vampires #bloodbound #choices bloodbound #choices bb #choices stories you play #choices fanfiction #choices fic

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