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thecandywrites · 2 years

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Monster March 2023 Day 11- Spirit- Part 5

The Talisman- Part 5- The First Step on a Long Journey

Do you have any idea how much I want to write another 100k words describing this great and wonderful long journey where the two protaganists slowly become friends and then more than friends and then get dangerously close to having to make impossible choices and their heads and hearts warring inside each of them? And show how the love of money and power corrupts and even toxic love to a degree, but how, true love conquers all and can fix and heal all of that? And generational trauma and explore the mental and psychological aspects of these characters? A LOT OK.

But my life has, once again, screwed me. Just...fucked me over is what it's done. And now I'm behind and now I have to play catch up. But I didn't want to leave you hanging on a cliffhanger too badly and hopefully I've left enough clues as to exactly who and what these people are going to go with. Because to leave you on a total and complete cliffhanger is evil. And don't get me long, I do love those. But I'm trying to stop the hurt and the heartache I'm feeling in real life and don't wish to inflict any more onto anyone else in a figurative sense. So here we are.

Thanks as always to @borealwrites for their Monster March 2023 Prompt list. It's getting me through some tough tiimes, let me tell ya.

Enjoy.

Part 5

The First Step of A Long Journey

True to Udwar’s word, you left Ustas with your friends and Udwar’s army as you looked up at the mountain top and still felt a pull towards one of the peaks as you looked at it and simply paused as the rest of the army was filing through the pass in the mountains.

“Do you feel the pull too?” Udwar asked from his mount as you insisted on still riding Filli, because her smaller, tougher hooves handled the mountain paths better than the others.

“I do. My mother said that when she was fleeing my father, the talisman showed her the way to the cave that the dragon died in and it’s like I can sense it’s there but I can’t really see it…” You answered.

“Close your eyes.” Udwar encouraged you before you obeyed.

“Now think of the moment your mother saw it, you will be able to see it through her eyes.” He encouraged.

And sure enough once you did, with your eyes closed you could see the path as you urged Fillie to walk the unusual path but Udwar waived off his men to continue with the path as he alone was going to follow you to where the talisman was pulling you towards as he could faintly feel it, but while he could feel it in the past, this was something about the other talisman’s connection to this place. And before his eyes, he watched as you simply moved a boulder as if it was a tent flap as both you went inside with your horses following in behind you.

He took out his ready torch and lit it and followed you as your tattoos outright glowed through your clothing, as did your eyes as you didn’t need the torch to see. Because here in this cave, it was like it was already well lit.

“Ma-shala.” You breathed when you saw the tail of the dragon before you came up to the remains.

Udwar knew that word. It was Nenanni for ‘my beloved’ or ‘my dearest one’. It was like, the dragon came to life in your eyes, looking at you with eyes - whose lids had shut so many decades ago. But who was superimposed on what his rotting corpse was and looking at you with a welcome relief that you had finally returned to it, like a loved one waiting until they were surrounded by all of their loved ones before passing.

You pressed your forehead to the smooth scale that was on the dragon’s forehead and it was like the bond that the dragon rider had was transferred to you. Here laid the one being she felt really, only, truly ever loved her, wholly and without reserve.

Udwar watched as tears formed in the inner corners of your eyes and fell down your cheeks as Udwar simply bowed his head. Both out of respect, yet a shame for something that he had not been guilty of.

He held the light up to the walls and read the eulogy that the dragon rider had left on the walls of her love’s tomb. Carving into the walls how much she had loved her dragon and how much she was going to suffer without him. And how now, she could only flee on foot from her “unworthy pursuer”. And Udwar felt that remark cut him like a knife. Because as much as he was bound by the talisman to find you and reunite the two halves. He had said, countless times before that you were the means to the end. And the end was a fortune beyond imagination.

But now, that he was in here with you, he had never felt this…emotional about it and how much that choice his grandfather had made- had deeply hurt and wounded his soulmate- to the point that she never recovered. And she never trusted another being beside her dragon again after that. She had gone mad, never staying in one place, always going from one desolate place to another, for only long enough that even on the horizon, his grandfather would never see her again. Always on the move, always on the run and always damning the talisman that she herself could never take off, but wished she could carve out of herself as easily as she might try to carve her own heart out- if it meant that the hurt and the pain of betrayal of everything she had ever wanted or hoped for or had dreamed up of her life with his grandfather could have been. But, would never happen.

Then a beautiful, wonderful thing happened, it was as if the dragon’s magic had stayed with it as it transferred itself to you. And when you pulled your head away, the dragon scale came off from being pressed into your forehead. And when you went down, surprisingly, the heart scale. The especially hard cluster of scales that protected a dragon’s chest from attacks at it’s heart were still there as you pulled them to you and hugged them before they magically became like a breastplate for you, wrapping around your chest and waist and cradling your bosom. As it felt almost silky next to your skin but was like a flexible armored plate on the outside. Then the dragon practically collapsed into dust. Leaving behind a single dragon egg in it’s place, which you picked up and cradled to your chest, knowing you were going to get this egg back to Neveah. And you were going to hatch it into a dragon of your own. And while it would be new, the connection would transcend.

Then you noticed the dragon saddle. And a remarkably well preserved fur lined leather suit. And a helmet, that still had a glowing green gem in the mouth of the helmet along with a proper nomadic wanderer packs. Which you promptly claimed as your own and began to add such things to Fillie who had little else on her saddle and thankfully none of the items were too heavy for her to carry. Along with strange but new and to your eyes and senses, still sound weapons. So that once you collected it all, the writing seemed to vanish from the walls, just as Udwar had finished reading it. So that the evidence of this tomb would be leaving with you and it was as if it was never there in the first place.

“There was writing here, I was hoping to teach you.” Udwar commented as he followed you to the mouth of the cave on the other side as the horses simply followed obediently.

“I know what was written. And what she wished she had room on the walls of this cavern to write. Even if she had a whole library worth of pages to write. It would never be enough.” You answered as you wiped your tears from your eyes and found your composure again, only to put the precious egg into the satchel along with the other clothes she had packed away or laid out in the area. Granted it all needed to be washed and dried. But they looked to be about your size and still functional and comfortable. And that’s all that would matter on this very long journey.

“I’m sorry.” Udwar offered.

“Don’t apologize for something that you didn’t do. Your grandfather made a choice. And granted it has impacted you and your family for three generations. But while I’m sorry that your father died when my mother did, through no fault of his own. I do wish that that part of the bind didn’t hold true anymore. But I feel confidant that once we get to this place- and we return these talismans to where they belong. No longer will they be our blessings and our curses. You, like your father and grandfather before you- have an equal portion to everything that he and she called theirs. And I’m still happy and content to give you all of the gold in the horde in exchange for the island itself. This dragon was always meant to come home and hatch at home. You have your reasons for going. I now have mine. And that’s all we need and all we want out of this. Isn’t it? At least, this does not come with any heartbreak on my part in reference to you at least.” You tried to offer to him over your shoulder as you pulled her pack up higher onto your own shoulders.

But all Udwar would murmur was a hum in response as he simply focused on not tripping on the small rubble on the floor as he noticed that your now, almost cat like strides seemed to stealthily slip through it as if it wasn’t there in the first place.

For the first time, he started to doubt even his own intentions about it. Because as much as his sense told him that you were right. His heart and soul simply staunchly held fast to the belief that you were still his soul mate. And he would have you as his queen sooner or later. He had at least 6-9 months to slowly but surely win you over on the idea at least. Because you had a very humble upbringing, surely it was that- that was keeping you from accepting any station life more elevated than the one you knew so well. But if it was unworthiness that you felt, he was more than ready and willing to prove otherwise to you. Because for your share of it. He would imagine that you would put it to the best use, investing in infrastructure and the citizens and living conditions and public works vs building yourself a lavish palace while your citizens lived in mud huts. But if it was a lavish palace that would eventually win you over, he would be able to buy or at least commission to build you one to your liking in any style you wanted.

The entrance let you out at the same place you had left in the caravan before you came along the old woman’s grave before you dismounted and simply knelt at the foot of the grave.

“I know this was not the place you intended on resting. But know that I will see to it that Chevron will make it back home, even when home was the one place you felt you could no longer go and feel it as it should have felt.” You vowed to the grave as you bowed your head respectfully as you felt an inner peace and a grace you had never known before suddenly grace your being as it was like her very bones had disintegrated into dust in the very earth she was buried in. Her spirit finally appeased and being able to pass on and no longer be held in a state of agitation that she was not where she belonged.

Udwar too felt another measure of relief from his own talisman and the spirit that possessed it let him feel that the sins of his grandfather had finally been forgiven, but not forgotten. And not yet atoned for, just yet.

But he felt more comfortable riding alongside you in the caravan now, like he no longer was searching for the person who was key to the destination. Now all that mattered was to get to the destination.

But getting to what was once your father’s house, to see your nanny who nearly fainted at the sight of you- for how much you resembled your late mother, it was easy to overturn Udwar’s father’s decision to let her son, who was only half a year younger than you, still inherit as heir apparent. As you simply stood at the grave where the man who sired you was laid to rest. And all you could feel was a sense of relief that your mother had rid her and you of him when she did before you moved on towards the coast where Udwar’s fleet of ships were waiting for you. Having spent all this time preparing for the journey.

And of course, you were put on the first boat by Udwar himself that quickly rowed you and your things to the largest and most impressive of the ships in his fleet as Udwar introduced you to the crew but he used a term you had not heard or understood.

“What does Hashimi mean?” You asked Udwar as you were walking with him as he inspected things on the ship to make sure everything was in order and perfect for the voyage.

“It means you are my special guest. And that nothing you ask for shall be denied to you.” He answered.

“Hashimi Bon- your quarters are ready.” A woman informed you as she found you with Udwar.

“Go and make sure everything is as you would like it.” Udwar invited as he gestured for you to follow her before you did.

“So? What do you think? All the furnishings are yours to do with as you would like. And everything not nailed down- is of course, yours as well. You should find some very fine garments for you to wear in these closets and of course, we can always tailor them should any of them not fit properly.” She explained as you came into the surprisingly opulent quarters. With all kinds of “gifts” practically stacked on every surface. But while it all was very nice. You felt like it was all practically a well baited hook. Meant to get you used to such luxuries so that the thought of giving them up and the temptation to take back your “inheritance” as far as half of the hoard would have you reconsidering your previous decision. But you would not be fooled. What were such things to absolute freedom and independence to have no master but yourself?

“Is there a wash basin where I can wash my clothes?” You asked.

“I can wash them for you.” She offered.

“No, after 20 years of doing nothing but washing clothes and linens, I know my way around a wash basin. I do not wish to make work for someone else that I would not be willing to do myself. I wish to wash my own clothes please. I would just need some water and some laundry soap.” You offered.

“...of course. I’ll be right back with that then.” She offered before she left and you noticed that this room even had it’s own little wood burning stove that you could heat and even cook on, should you want to. Which you found you quite liked the idea of that. And while the cooks that always seemed to travel with Udwar cooked good food, some of the best you’d had the pleasure of eating so far in your life. You felt you would need to learn the skill should you live on an island by yourself for a while.

She was back, followed by two large men, each with large buckets of hot water to fill the basins for you to wash and rinse the clothes in before she set down a variety of soaps and instructed you on which ones were best for what before your clothes line was pulled up next to the windows that could be opened to let in a fresh breeze to help dry out the clothes too.

“Thank you. I can take it from here.” You offered before you finally got a chance to get the clothes you had gotten from the dragon’s tomb out of your bag and besides being a bit dusty, weren’t all that bad for being in a cave for decades. You were impressed when the fabrics didn’t even bleed their colors in the hot water and took to the soap very well and within just a few moments they were as good as new. Not even needing a single stitch of mending as you hung them up to dry on the line.

And when they dried just as all the ships were loaded. And when you came back out, wearing the dragon rider’s clothes, Udwar was left speechless as she was practically a replica of what his grandfather’s dragon rider once had been. And while he knew the two were very different, he knew in every fiber of his being that he was starting to feel the same way about her the way his grandfather had felt about his dragon rider, and maybe, for the first time in three generations, he had a fighting chance to finally make this right and fully mend the bond that was broken and finally succeed where his father and grandfather failed.

#Monster March #Monster March 2023 #Monster March Day 11 Part 5 #Monster March 2023 Day 11 Part 5

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f1-disaster-bi · 2 years

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Hi I was the anon who had a wedding this weekend and said I would come back to scream about this chapter!!! I just reread it so first off the cliffhanger!!! Glad I was busy this weekend so the state of Lando’s well-being hasn’t been looming over my mind too much my god! But I really love how no one had to tell Zak and Andreas, it was just so bad that they noticed (well actually don’t love that it’s so bad but you know what I mean) so it wasn’t Jon or Daniel since those are like two of his people in a way but I think I said it last time where it only made sense that by the end of this Lando would need some rehab because he already relapsed once without it :( also not Jon with all the read receipts of him just not doing well giving Lando a full on reality check which is just probably information overload in his drugged up state, but I love how it shows people are really concerned, I also wonder what his parents would be thinking if they saw these headlines?? Lando is already small and skinny so I can’t even imagine him being any skinnier!! I also really loved the whole scene with having Max there when Jon calls Daniel since Max was kinda the one who got him into drinking and now all hell is quite literally breaking loose!! Anyways I hope Dan can find him or Charles/Alex/George (feel like they will be kicking themselves when Jon calls them for help because they didn’t know how bad Lando was doing/what was even wrong and especially since George’s whole thing was like trying to distance himself in case of the worst happening) If Daniel finds him, I’m nervous the state that Lando will be in will just be horrible and not good for him since he cares for Lando so much :( I don’t even want to think of what Michael has to say about this given the prior feelings surrounding Daniel trying to help Lando, but curious if the SA with Lando will come to light beyond more than just Dan and Michael because I’m pretty sure Jon doesn’t know? Also is there any significance of him properly stowing his phone away in Daniel’s mailbox? Okay I feel like I tried to cover as many of my thoughts as I can and I’m SO nervous for how you’re going to end this but I’m going to put all my trust in you to not yeet Lando and hopefully give the boy a happy ending lol

Glad to see you survived! I hope you'll have fun reading chapter 8!

As for Landos parents, Lando would have long told his parents to mute his name on things because he doesn't want them to see the hate he gets. He would also have them and his siblings limited on what they can see on his private accounts. Of course they do see things, especially after Barcelona, but Lando tells them he's okay and he's just got a really bad dose of tonsillitis and they buy it because he suffered badly with it as a kid. His siblings are a little harder to convince, they notice things like him pulling away and not responding to them, especially his sisters who he always made time for

With the SA, eventually Lando does talk about it. Mainly because he needs to set boundaries with people because someday he can't handle being touched and needs space. He wants the people he trusts to understand why that is and why even if he's having a panic attack, it's better they touch him as little as possible and if they have to touch him, they make it clear and wait for him to give some sign of consent

As for the phone, Lando leaves it there because its safe. He doesn't want to be found, but he knows he can't just drop the phone anywhere cause there's things on there that he'd be terrified to see leaked. The last place he ever felt safe was with Dan, he knows if Dan finds it he'll know why.

There's also part of me that believes lando would have drafted notes to people and if he yeets, then someone will find them

#party au #dando #daniel/lando

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bereft-of-frogs · 2 years

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Ok but like here is how I would have adapted this series as someone who really loved the changes and additions in season 1 and am really puzzled about their choices in season 2:

(See some people can enjoy changes from the books but also still have problems with the story, so super fans you don’t have to strawman literally every single person with a complaint as an ‘ungrateful book purist’)

(I also fully recognize that this would be in a world with unlimited money and Netflix not breathing down their necks forcing them to be universally marketable but anyway. Onwards!)

- season 1 - shadow and bone* + original crow storyline

This was perfect no notes.

- season 2 - siege and storm* + conclusion of the original crow storyline

Crows deal with the fallout of the season 1 stuff. Dreesen still matters. We see them get to be friends with Nina and in their proper context a bit, so the emotionally charged scenes actually make sense. End with a tease to the SoC book plot. The Siege and Storm stuff has time to breathe rather than just racing from one event to another.

- season 3 - ruin and rising* + just the hellgate sections of six of crows

Conclude the shadow and bone storyline which would take the focus, just the first half of soc so it doesn’t overpower the trilogy conclusion. Maybe ending with a bit of a cliffhanger, on the ship to the heist.

*I also didn’t necessarily mind the changes to this storyline I just don’t think it should have been so compressed because it was way too fast paced. But I sense the Netflix cancel hammer looming above them…

- season 4 - the ice court heist

This is definitely tricky from a marketing standpoint because I think they should mostly focus on the heist. So I get dropping a set of characters would lose some of your audience. But you could advertise this as the six of crows spin-off season, or even have it be the shadow and bone characters’ turn for an original storyline that doesn’t have any bearing on the main plot of the season. Especially if they make changes to the trilogy’s ending like they did in the actual season 2, you could fit in some foreshadowing for future events and the early parts of king of scars. Or just have a completely unrelated adventure.

- season 5 - crooked kingdom

Yes the separation of the storylines from seasons 2-4 is a rough sell but just imagine the hype when they finally connect again! After all this time! Reuniting with Zoya after last seeing her in the ruins of Novokribirsk!?! It would be great. And all of those stellar performances would be rewarded with the context they deserve. (Because literally, those isolated scenes CK scenes were perfect, they just had no buildup. Props to the actors and their chemistry because I felt it but also in context a lot of it didn’t really make sense and we lost a lot of the best bits to the compressed timeline, like Kaz and Jesper fighting and making up and the understanding of what it means for Kaz to supplant Per Haskell.)

[- season 6 - king of scars

- season 7 - rule of wolves ]

Admittedly I wasn’t the biggest fan of the last duology so there would definitely be a lot of ironing out. Wouldn’t be opposed to massive changes there. As an audience member I might stop at season 5 (I’m good at that…), but damn necromancer Nina always pulls me back in. No further comments on the plot of these last two seasons because I would have to reread those books as I don’t know them as well as the middle duology, and I’m not going to do that.

So that’s how I would adapt the narrative. Just my personal opinion I already know not everyone would like it you don’t have to come for me.

I also would not have (apparently) burned our entire collection of linen shirts and wool trousers and embroidered keftas from season 1 and hit up a local TJ Maxx and Pittsburgh Penguins arena shop for costumes. Or forgotten how to edit and color grade a tv show. But that’s just me.

#long post #shadow and bone netflix #shadow and bone spoilers

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noa-ciharu · 2 years

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Actually idk why fandom is so worried Chuuya might die when all signs indicate that's very unlikely to happen. I mean:

Chapter ended on cliffhanger. Asagiri does this often and it's always to hangs readers on suspense. Remember chap then ended with Kunikida and explosion? He was MIA for few chapters then turned out to be alive from something he surely would have died of (irl). Same thing with half of Agency happend at some point.

Which brings me to second point. In manga we saw no major or minor characters die. All who die are chapter based characters, such as Ace or that girl with bomb around her neck. Both times it's clear character was written solely with point of dying and serving as character development for another character (Fyodor and Kunikida). Chuuya has his own story in mangas and novels, it simply wouldn't be fitting to kill him off screen on 3 pages.

Some characters escaped death. Take Gogol for example, he was cut in half. Pulled ability trick and turned out to be alive. Kenji was stabbed by sword but turned out to be fine (another cliffhanger). Vilians who got defeated turned out to be fine too (Fitzgerald for example, he fell from great height but didnt die). There were many instances where Asagiri could easily get rid of characters but they(he? idk author's pronounce) decided to keep them all and involve in story later on again.

Chuuya is put under vampire ability curse. It's a wonder if he can even die as he's already 'undead'. Plus readers weren't shown how he got bitten/cursed and what happened of port mafia (no way they'll all die due to it, too many important characters are infected). Perhaps when Chuuya returns to being human (by Dazai's ability), he'd recall that in a flashback.

Chuuya's and Fyodor's survivals are connected. Dazai did that in order to kill Fyodor. Now, do you really think series main villan would go down like that? No way. Also Dazai is clever, he wouldn't gamble Chuuya's survival like that, so I don't think it'll be Fyodor lives but Chuuya dies situation either. Not to mention that Gogol is still around, he could put some shit. So from narratives perspective it'll make little sense to kill Chuuya in the manner chapter ended. Of course, some mangas have death for shock value and message that noone is spared from death's unexpectedness but BSD isn't one of those. It's more about mystery, complicated plot and mental games than shock value. Asagiri could put thousand ways to prevent their death as it was done before in story to other characters.

Which brings me to the last one: Dazai's reaction. Now, Dazai is morally grey character with manipulative or even sadistic side to him. Nonetheless, after Oda's death and him switching sides, he actively tries to be a better man. He's ruthless now only when he needs to be. He values life now. So only way I can see him drowning Chuuya on purpose is if Dazai concluded it's the only possible way to get rid of Fyodor and his gang once and for all and there is no other solution. Chuuya would be the sacrifice then. Since 1) no way Fyodor will die there 2) Dazai would gamble Chuuya's life on senseless mistakes in his schemes, Dazai knows there's a solid chance of their survival. Also his joke at the end is pretty good indicator that Chuuya isn't in danger, otherwise I seriously doubt he'd smile and jest like that.

Now, Dazai cares for lifes of his commanders. He wouldnt let Atsushi or Kunikida be killed thanks to his schemes. Nor would he let Chuuya. Here, his facial expression:

It's mostly hidden from the view, eyes and mouth not shown in one picture - expression and emotions not meant for readers to see (because Dazai implicitly keeps his emotions in check and rarely shows them). He looks somber and melancholic. Evidently not happy with what he has to do, since there, after all, is the risk Chuuya might die. From Dazai's perspective. He recalls times they spent together, reminisce something about emotional bond, all things that are unlike his unfeeling self, and then -

Turns it into joke and cruelty. I believe this is a mask to server for readers, Sigma and himself as well (also a good indicator that he's not taking this too seriously perhaps?). Because Dazai perceives emotions as weakness (he internalized that, maybe he doesn't think that consciously, but he does think that on primal ego level), he can't allow himself to be perceived as possessing a weakness neither by audience, Sigma, nor himself.

#in case he dies it'll be for nothing tho and as Asagiri is rly good at story telling i doubt they had it in mind #analysis #bsd #bungou stray dogs #bsd spoilers #nakahara chuuya #dazai osamu #soukoku

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drpepperhateblog · 2 years

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Pretty Little Liars: Original Sin - Quick Review

PLL OS falls into the same trap as its predecessor by having plot holes. At least they’re fewer.

The bad:

The main characters are so, so underdeveloped. Tabby does nothing but reference movies. Their boyfriends, too, are underdeveloped, and so hard to tell apart, but when I struggle to apply personality traits to the main characters, you have a big problem.

Stop making Riverdale references. Nobody wants this.

What’s the point of including a character from the original show if you’re going to recast them anyway?

I wanted to really savor the creepy school event the way the original show was giving us all the Dollhouse content. So sad that it all happened so fast.

Why does Ezra get to adopt given how he is a statutory rapist that married his student? Do you think they allowed Mary Kay Letourneau and Vili Fualaau to adopt too in this universe?

The good:

Slasher and horror is a great genre for a series like Pretty Little Liars.

The villain had a motivation that made some degree of sense.

Exploring the effects of rape rather than showing grotesque rape on-screen. Always preferred when movies and shows do this. Tabby and Imogen struggling in different ways - Tabby by obsessing over it, Imogen trying not to think about it.

Faran’s story is absolutely horrifying and I don’t think people comprehend just how awful it is to be given a risky scoliosis surgery when unneeded. I have scoliosis myself and it was a nice surprise to see my condition mentioned in the media.

Karen and Kelly’s actress was terrific. I still expect some twin twist to be pulled at some point if they get a Season 2.

The rapists died.

Actually rounding up the mystery at the end instead of leaving a cliffhanger forever. The story was wrapped up, questions were answered, and if we never get a Season 2, at least we don’t have to be plagued by loose threads.

Overall, still loved the show. Would happily watch a Season 2.

#pretty little liars #pretty little liars original sin #pll os #pll #pll spoilers #pll os spoilers #pretty little liars spoilers #pretty little liars original sin spoilers

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neutron-stars-collision · 3 years

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The Art of Inversion

Neil x Reader

Chapter 30 - Start Again

Masterlist; Chapter 29

Summary: The aftermath.

Warnings: Swearing, light angst at times.

Author's Notes: Here we are, sorry for the previous cliffhanger, couldn't deny myself the temptation. Getting even closer to the end now but the idiots need some things talked over and long-missing characters ought to make an appearance 😌

Hope you'll enjoy! Feedback is always appreciated for it makes all this worthwhile ✨

Minutes, hours, days… weeks? You did not know how long you have been drifting in the nothingness, filled with smithereens of memories, dreams and feverish nightmares. Bullets, explosions, rocks defying the laws of gravity. Blood, pain, and screams. Yours? You could not tell. Now and then, you would hear a voice calling to pull you out of the darkness. Familiar despair to it. Neil. Name reverberating through the noise in your head with increasing urgency. You had to find your way back to him.

Following the voice and the tight hold over your hand, like Ariadne in the Minotaur’s labyrinth, you felt the darkness give way to the increasing dawn. Light promising to show up if you just opened your eyes. A sense of hope, even if fleeting. The future you have been fighting for. The one you would do anything for. Even die. Not this time.

Your eyes shot open. Bright light making you squint as you let out a quiet groan through the dry throat. The stark white ceiling. Buzz of the machines all around. Soft pillow underneath your head. A warm hold over your palm, your red string, leading out of the dark. Your anchor. With effort, you turned your head to the right side, catching a glimpse of the blonde head. Neil sat in the chair pulled as close as possible to your bed. He has dozed off with his head settled comfortably on your lap covered with the thick duvet. You felt the rush of warmth at the sight, the overwhelming gratitude for being alive to see it. For pulling through. For the first time, there was nothing but hope to be found in the pit of your heart.

“You’re awake!” the exclamation filled disbelief and joy made you look up at the other side of the room.

The sight of the tall blonde woman looking at you fondly was enough to exert another small smile. And then a flicker of doubt as your thoughts caught up with the reality.

“Kat… did we win?” you asked the question tentatively, almost afraid to hear the truth.

What if it was all for nothing?

“Yes,” the uncertainty cut short with her confident grin, “We’ve won. There’s no world ending in sight,” Kat added, taking a seat on the opposite side to Neil.

She eyed you with a careful stare as though unsure what to say or do. Through the window, you could see the blue skies dotted with clouds. The gentle sway of the ship told you were well on your way back from Siberia. Presumably, going along the time continuum this time.

“How long have I been… out?” with the words missing from your tired brain, you frowned at the choice.

But she understood, shooting you a reassuring smile before answering:

“Four days” too long, you thought as Kat glanced at Neil pointedly “I tried to make him catch a nap in his room, but he wouldn’t leave for longer than fifteen minutes” your heart let out a painful pang as you tightened the hold over Neil’s hand, “He asked me to wake him up if anything changes…” she trailed off, looking for a response.

If you’ve survived four days, you might as well let him sleep few minutes longer. Plus, the reunion best happened in private. As much as that was possible in the infirmary. A glance around the room told you two things. There was no one else occupying the cabin, meaning you were a special patient. And that, potentially, no one has been hurt as gravelly. You could certainly hope that was the case.

“Don’t. I’d rather he caught up on some sleep” as Kat caught your absent-minded glance, you responded, lowering the voice by a notch.

She grinned, gaze fleetingly sweeping over your joined palms on the covers. As if feeling its weight, you blushed, and she changed the subject without a hitch:

“How are you feeling?” it was that mindful stare again, making you inclined to tell Kat more than you usually would.

Because she always seemed to understand. Because she has been through much worse. You have both been scarred for life by inverted bullets. A peculiar trait to share, nonetheless.

“Tired. And as though I’ve been through hell and back. But I’m glad I’m still… here” the emphasis on the last word elicited a compassionate smile from the woman.

“Neil told me you did it to save him. That if not for you, he’d be dead” the sharp meaning of the sentence cut through the dreaminess of the moment.

You knew it was true and that he would have caught up fast enough if he had not realised as it happened. Your life for his. Simple equation. Even simpler result. No regrets.

There was no judgement in Kat’s face as she searched your gaze for clues. You did not need to think hard about an answer:

“I acted on instinct… Suddenly, as I watched it unfold, I knew what had to happen. No matter the consequences,” unconsciously, your gaze wandered to the dressing covering your right arm and shoulder.

The whole length from the collarbone to the elbow has been bandaged, preventing you from seeing the damage. Maybe that was better, for now.

“I’m glad it’s ended like this” Kat reached out to squeeze your shoulder, bringing another rush of gratitude, “Neil’s been frantic, constantly on edge as though close to doing something incredibly reckless” she glanced at him once more and then added, “All because of how much he loves you,”

The blush darkened. Somehow, it still felt unreal to admit. He was yours just as you were his, no room to doubt it. Nothing to question. How did you get that lucky? God only knows. Ignoring the sudden desire to burst into happy tears, you joked:

“I told you we’re both stupid,” the lopsided smile as though to throw her off the hunch.

To strengthen the illusion of not being bothered by the conversation. All of which failed if Kat’s serious expression was anything to go by.

“That’s brave, not stupid,” she reasserted and opened her mouth as though to add something.

Exactly when you felt Neil’s fingers twitch in your grasp. He let out a long exhale as his eyelids fluttered. Your heart squeezed with surprising anticipation as though this reunion was somehow the most important one.

“He’s waking up…” the breathless whisper carried to Kat, carrying more meaning than you could admit.

Without a word, she got up and grinned at you:

“I’ll come back later,” a wave you clumsily returned before she disappeared through the door.

There was nothing left to do but stare at Neil as he seemed to rouse from the slumber. The midday sun caught in the blonde strands, shadows softening his sharp features. You could not ignore the temptation too long, reaching out to drag your fingers through his hair in the familiar fashion. And then, if he had any doubts left, a whisper:

“Hello, sunshine” with breath caught in your throat, you watched as Neil raised his head.

His eyes widened as his mind seemed to catch up with the developments, the grip on your hand tightening slightly. Your gazes locked with ease, the words yet to be found as you let the emotions pour out from your eyes.

“You-” Neil swallowed hard as though unable to say what he wanted and then tried again, “You broke the promise” his voice was rough around the edges, tinted with the weight of the experiences you could not comprehend.

And it was not what you expected him to say. He was right, but that did not change the shocking effect of something akin to the accusation. Gaping with mouth open wide, you tried to find a response of any kind:

“Neil, what-” but you never got as far as asking.

Without letting you express the surprise, Neil got up and leaned down with purpose clear in every move. You gasped as he covered your mouth with his in a hard kiss. No careful dancing around or chaste pecks. He tugged at your lips with his teeth, drawing out blood and quiet groans, waking up the part of your heart that has been dormant. The pulse pounded in your ears as you used the free hand to bring him even closer, angling your head to create a deeper connection. As his tongue slipped in to caress yours, you whimpered, overwhelmed with feelings. With the sensation of being alive and loved. Of having lived. Of having Neil as yours. It was only when you let out a sharp hiss upon a sudden pain when you tried to melt into him further that he ended the contact and placed a final kiss on your forehead before taking back the chair.

There was no end to the stunned silence on your side. Your eyes wandered over his face, noting the dark shadows underneath the bloodshot eyes and ruffled hair. The stubble on his chin was thicker than last time you have seen him. The morning before Stalsk, appearing in your memories as if on cue.

“Four days” another significant phrase, breaking the stalemate.

As Neil uttered the words, he looked up at you with heartbreak visible in his face. A pinprick of pain shot through your chest as you reached out for his palm once again. On reflex entwining the fingers, taking a long moment to relish in the feeling of your palms pressed together.

“I know, Kat told me” you offered him a sad smile, quickly following it with an attempt at chiding, “She also said you haven’t slept, which I should scold you for,” a stern glare forgotten as soon as you noticed how his eyes shone with unshed tears.

Before you could find a gesture or words of comfort, he spoke up:

“I thought it was happening again. That I was going to lose you as I lost Alex because I’m cursed” Neil threw the words out with self-directed spite, alarming you to one evident discovery.

He was keen to blame himself for what happened. Even though it made no sense, and you could not accept it. In the quiet of your mind, a resolve to persuade him out of it gaining strength. But for now, simple words had to do:

“You’re not cursed” you let go of his hand to cup his cheek, brushing over the stubble and letting the affection show in your gaze, “You’re mine, which might as well be the same thing, but-” the ramblings getting ahead of you before Neil did something unexpected again.

The words getting stuck in your throat as he reached out to brush the pad of his thumb along your lower lip. The confusion in your eyes was met with the look of adoration and love you did not anticipate. Not even from Neil. He was looking at you as though he was desperate to commit you to memory. As if scared that it was all a dream, and you were not really there. As though that was all he ever wanted to do for the rest of his life. Then his fingers wandered down the slope of your chin to caress the neck, bringing out goosebumps wherever his touch went. Unable to break the contact, you stared as his eyes darkened, the familiar shadow of desire making an appearance. The ghostly touch, running over the pulse points and up your cheek to the temple. Each brush felt like a kiss, and from the look in his eyes, you knew that it was the intention. Closing your eyes to heighten the senses, you could almost imagine the phantom touch of his lips gliding over the right spots. As he gently tucked the strands behind your ear, your eyes shot open, stirred with shame:

“I probably look terrible after all that-” your remark cut short the moment you risked looking at him again.

What you found in Neil’s face was as close to determination combined with unconditional devotion as you could imagine. He cupped your cheek once more and whispered the counterargument:

“You’re breathtaking,” as though confirming the sentiment he breathed out the word with reverence.

All the while, looking at you as if you were the most beautiful sight he has ever seen. You dared not think how that could be when faced with the greasy, unruly hair and a greenish hospital gown. Stuck with either the option to ignore what he said, kiss him or try to change his mind, you decided that the latter one was best given the circumstances.

“Neil…” the feigned exasperation did nothing, for he only tightened the hold over your hand and carried on.

“I mean it” nothing to bargain with “For those four days it even felt wrong to touch you… because you wouldn’t be looking back at me with those eyes that always make me believe there’s a reason to keep fighting” the raw edge to his words finally broke the dam.

Tears stung your eyes as you blinked them shut to keep the emotions in check. Even for a little bit longer. Swallowing down the rising emotions, you noticed quietly:

“Now you can touch me all you like” it was a tentative invitation Neil accepted by brushing his fingers over your knuckles thoughtfully, “How… how did it end? I know we’ve won from Kat, but…” you trailed off, unable to ask for needed details.

But he understood, as always. From the sad glint in his gaze, you could foresee that the answer would not be entirely positive. He took an additional moment to find the words, all the while cradling your hand carefully. And then he began the story.

“We’ve lost quite a few good souls, but, in the end, Ives and TP failed the Algorithm detonation. I wasn’t there to see it, but I think they each got a half of it and will hide it before ending their lives” the account was given with nearly no emotional inflexions.

The only sign of how pained Neil was, demonstrated itself in how he clutched your palm, eager to feel your presence with more strength than before. You were keen to comply, reaching out to brush the strands from his eyes and caress his temple. Letting him know that you were there for him. That you always would be.

But instead of saying that out loud, you waited for a beat before asking another unfinished question:

“That’s what TP did before he…?” you met his gaze meaningfully, noticing the concern underneath the surface.

Those days following TP’s death felt like centuries ago. Somehow, you remembered them as both one of the most challenging moments you had to face and the ones that changed your life. And your relationship with Neil. From the way he returned your careful gaze, you knew he was thinking about the same thing. It was that night in Boston when you have allowed yourself to care for him fully. The same one when he showed you his darkest side. It only made the fall more inevitable.

“That’s my guess” Neil nodded, a surprising hint of a smile playing upon his lips as he swiftly changed the subject, “Henrik asked me to call him when you’re conscious” he glanced at the empty IV bag hanging by your bed.

“More drugs?” you muttered warily.

Waking up was not that bad, all things considered. Now, however, you were beginning to feel the pain increase with the medication effects waning. The dull throbbing in your shoulder was becoming more difficult to ignore as you eyed the bandages. The scar underneath painting itself in the worst form in your mind. What if Neil won’t want you scarred?

As though able to see the brewing insecurities, Neil raised your hand to his lips and kissed your knuckles with all the necessary care.

“Mhmm,” a tiny nod followed by a remark, never hiding the grin that began to appear on his face, “We’ll have you high as a kite, so you don’t become grumpy” the cheeky intonation was a welcomed change.

Because maybe you’d be okay. Somehow. As the sun slipped in more bravely through the round window, you allowed yourself a hopeful look at Neil. His hair shone like gold, giving him a saintly halo of sorts. The eyes, never looking away from yours, brilliantly blue and glimmering with happiness. You had to be alright.

“Now that’s rude, I’m never grumpy” you faked the stern look before adding a more persuasive tone to the sentence, “You should sleep, I’m not going anywhere, and I hate seeing you this tired,”

Neil’s lips twitched; unhidden amusement further lightning up his stunning features.

“Is that an order?” squeezing the hand within his grasp, Neil arched an eyebrow.

A challenge soon enough lost by a loud yawn he could not hold back. You mirrored his cheeky smile upon the sight and replied:

“It might be” a calculative look outside to determine the time (not later than 3 pm, surely,) “Just a few hours, you can send Kat or whoever is free to keep me company” and then, if only to make his smile brighter “Though admittedly no one’s as good as you,”

To prove the point, you cupped his cheek once more, taking pleasure in how Neil closed his eyes, letting down the guard completely. At this moment, you knew without a shadow of a doubt that he was yours, that he was devoted to you. It was visible in the vulnerability he demonstrated around you, unafraid to be open and honest.

Lost in the musings, you never noticed when he looked back at you. Or when he stood up, to lean over you, earnest gaze meeting your startled look. Inches of space between your face. The usual. You held your breath as he got closer, feeling the familiar tension fill the gaps.

“God, I love you,” the whisper carried on between your mouths coupled up with the tint of disbelief and conviction.

As though Neil both could not believe the extent of his feelings and would not have it otherwise. Filled with the knowledge that you could always return the confession in the next few hours, you chose to pick up the humorous strand.

“You don’t say…” a grin, splitting his face and making your heart soar with happiness.

The pain, chaos and everything that followed was worth it. Stalsk was worth it.

The thoughts cut short with Neil’s lips on yours, slowly taking off the words you did not say out loud. Gently confirming every belief and assumption. Welcoming the future you have fought for. Together.

***

The loneliness after Neil left did not last long. It turned out that there had been another person waiting outside of your door in the infirmary. And, luckily, it was not Henrik. You decided that being ‘high as a kite’ could wait until you had one final coherent conversation. You beamed the instant Ives stepped through the door, the usual air of confidence and cockiness following suit.

“Hello, love. It’s nice to see you awake finally” he returned the grin and squeezed the hand you have offered as a means of greeting.

At that moment, you could not be any more grateful for having made it. Maybe Neil was right in his madness. Maybe, it really had been the friends made along the way. Silently, you snickered at your thoughts and replied:

“Hi,” you gestured for him to take the nearby chair and remarked, “I’m sad to have missed the battlefield fun” the faraway look in his eyes not escaping the attention as you added sincerely, “But thanks for killing that bastard down there,”

And you meant it. That moment, one of the last before things got muddled, with Ives raising the gun to shot Volkov in the head was memorable. Even more so when you realised what that meant in the grand scheme of things. How it saved you and Neil from damage worse than a broken promise and a scar. You knew that Ives understood the implications without ever having to put them into words.

“The pleasure is all mine,” strengthening the statement he gave one of those rare serious looks that always signified something crucial was coming, “I’m glad you weren’t there to see the Algorithm; it saved me some pain,”

Ives was never the one to let sentences trail off, to allow meaningful pauses. Instead, he gave everything he intended, one part at a time. He was blunt and straightforward, yet right now, with the burden of recent events still hanging over you, he shocked you with rare hesitation. As though unsure if he should reveal the entirety of the truth. It was the more reason to press on:

“How so?” the arched eyebrow and attention to show him that you would not back off.

Not without knowing the truth. You watched as Ives dropped the gaze, evidently bracing himself for something substantial. Searching for that gentleness not to startle you with hard facts and sharp edges. You wanted to tell him that it did not matter. But you never got as far.

“After seeing Neil’s agony when you dropped to the ground with the bullet in your shoulder, the last thing I wanted was to ask him to take a piece of a weapon of mass destruction and plan his death. Shortly” the soldier uttered the sentence without a pause or uncertainty, only allowing time in the end to let the meaning sink in.

Neil’s agony. Death. Shortly.

It was the last two words that stung most.

“…shortly?” you breathed it out before following with a startled disclaimer, “Please don’t tell me you’re about to-”

It could not get through your clenched throat. Ives noticed and interrupted you with an assured smile:

“Don’t worry, love, I won’t. Not yet anyway” he waved his hand dismissively as if begging you to drop the topic “But the point stands. Neil was bloody miserable when you were lying unconscious. I think he blames himself for what happened because it’s easier than accepting the truth” another sentence needing time to be processed.

You stared at your hands, folded neatly on the lap. You did not remember the last time they felt this empty without another hand to hold. But it was okay; he was just sleeping. Forcing the brain to work, you asked:

“That I risked the ultimate sacrifice for him? Or that he’s worth it?” Ives sucked in the breath as he met your steel look.

Somehow telling the truth did not make the burden lighter. It only made it more real. Something you could not avoid forever and would soon need to bring up with Neil. Even if only to knock the regrets out of that pretty, blonde head.

It was a rare sight to see Ives rendered speechless. And so, you cherished every second, waiting for the reaction. It was not a shock of learning something he did not know yet. It was more like that moment when someone puts into words something you have expected but never really heard spoken out loud. When you did, it became tangible. Sometimes terrifying. And above all – true.

“Both,” as though shaking himself awake from the paralysis, Ives gave you a quick once-over, “I’m glad you’re okay… ish” he frowned, and you grinned.

That was one way of putting it.

Shifting on the hospital bed so you could see more of the world outside, you chose the question:

“So… what now?” you looked at him expectedly.

Nothing but the dark blue sea and blue skies as far as the eye could reach. Seagulls passing by. Normal this time. So, no more inversion…

“Back to Trondheim” upon your quizzical look, Ives added, “It’s easier for the captain, and I figured laying low might be more fun in a new place” he was back to the professional, succinct mode, the previous hesitation missing.

You had to admit it made sense.

“How long do we have to… lay low?” the unusual phrase rolled off your tongue, tinting it with that distant feel of the foreign.

Of life you have found yourself in suddenly. The reality of spies, guns, and inverted physics. The one where you belong.

“Until our past selves leave for this mission… which is a while” the grimace welcoming itself onto his face, twisting the corners of his mouth downwards “So, ideally, you and Neil can stay cooped up in a hotel in Norway, and then in some London safe house until it’s fine to resume life” he explained swiftly, making your frown transform into a smile.

Because the idea seemed pleasant. A chance to rest, reflect and get used to the fact that Neil was yours to keep. That, finally, you had someone to love and be loved. A time to relish in that discovery. To catch up on everything. Your smile turned slightly wicked, earning an arched eyebrow from Ives, watching closely.

“That doesn’t sound half as bad… for reasons I shall not disclose with you, don’t fret,” you smirked, suddenly flooded with ideas and images that seemed too tempting for the present moment.

Ives opened his mouth to let out an appalled gasp as his eyes widened. Clearly, it was not only your imagination working overtime.

“I’m grateful,” you shared a bright grin before he changed the tone once more, “On a rare serious note, though… I’m glad he’s got you because he’s much happier. I never thought I would see him this… in love again, but it’s good. You deserve each other” the unexpected words stunned you into silence.

As did the sincere look Ives gave you, adding the meaning and importance to the moment more than any assembly of letters and sounds ever could. A sentiment of this type coming from someone that knew Neil much longer than you held even more significance. Unnecessary tears welled up in your eyes, and you had to blink them away before giggling nervously, throat closed off with the emotions you dared not let out. These days every moment was like a balancing act. Suspended between tearful conversations and elated laughs. Prone to fall if not careful.

“Wow… that’s quite sappy” finally, settling on a safe territory of the joke, you aimed for the perfect dose of sarcasm, “Have you been hit hard in the head in Siberia?”

At first, Ives’ face was an impenetrable, blank mask. Then he grinned. A joyful smile, lightening up the blue eyes and crinkling the skin around them. Everything felt fine at that moment. Like safety, comradery, and hope.

“That’s what you get for honesty, huh” the soldier murmured the remark with the feigned offence.

Ignoring the desire to leap up from the bed and hug him, you shrugged. Sometimes it was the cautious approach that was worth more.

***

As the icebreaker steadily sailed back to Trondheim, you began to get used to the different side of life aboard the ship. The journey back was nothing like those ten days previously. It was better. And worse.

Better because you could forget the drama, the tension and never-ending arguments that had the power to eat away every bit of hope left in your heart.

Worse because you were resorted to spending the time in the infirmary, metaphorically chained to the hospital bed and the IV drip. However, you were not alone.

The days got divided into manageable parts. First, the morning dose of painkillers, changing of the dressing and Neil’s arrival. He had been persuaded to disappear for the night to try getting sleep, and you counted that as a victory. Each day itself usually consisted of different conversations with fellow Tenet agents, as you soon have learned that your closest circle has been left intact. Wheeler, Kat, and Ives visited almost daily, each conversation a working excuse to incline Neil to some free time and rest. Only TP has gone missing, disappearing from the battlefield with his part of the Algorithm without a note nor information. But despite the deeply rooted sadness, you knew it was expected after he had learned the whole truth about the operation and his role in it. After all, he had to set the plan in motion and establish the organisation in the past. Perhaps he had his way of going about that.

Another surprise was the appearance of Mahir, who invited himself into your cabin not long after you had first woken up. Apparently, after helping Kat with her part of the mission, he returned onto the ship to come back to Europe. You were not shocked when a few days later, he knocked on your door and promptly entered with two mugs of tea in his hand and a smile promising a distraction. With Neil spending time polishing up skills at the training grounds, you did not mind company. And tea.

As a means of greeting, Mahir grinned at you from the doorway and handed you the mug as he settled into the chair with a sigh. Due to your relative popularity (as some dared call it), your infirmary cabin has been equipped with three chairs and a table to suit your needs. Now your guest could comfortably settle by the said table and ask a question you could not expect:

“How does it feel to be the hero?” his countenance stayed perfectly neutral as if he asked about the weather.

Or whether you like spinach. But instead, you have been stunned into silence which you could only resolve with a hurried answer.

“I… I’m not a hero,” looking at him as though he was an idiot and then proceeding to stare at everything but Mahir.

Ridiculous. Your face heated up, betraying the storm raging inside at the mere idea. Because could it even be considered bravery if you did it for strictly selfish reasons?

“I beg to differ, hun” Mahir sent you a flawless smirk before taking a casual sip from the mug, “Neil told me that if not for you, there’s a high chance the world would’ve been ultimately screwed,” he said it as one proclaims the end of the autumn sale on the high street.

Despite the uproar of your anxious brain, which could never agree with such pompous merit, you risked a tiny smile. And then a quick dismissal.

“That’s not why I did it. At least not the main reason” your blush crept up higher as you briefly contemplated blurting out the rationale for everything you did.

But maybe sentimental statements were best left till the conversation with Neil. As you were yet to breach the topic. Worriedly.

Mahir seemingly read you like an open book, for his grin widened; the smug undertones tinting the reply:

“I know. As they say, recklessness and love are two halves of the same coin,”

It took your brain a long moment to process the sentence. It was said with such an air of confidence and certainty that, at first, you did not know what was wrong with it. And then it caught up. What the fuck, one might ask.

A series of inexplicable noises from your mouth and then…

“… No one says that. And what would it even mean? You can’t-” using the only hand not on the arm sling, you gestured wildly to express the depths of indignation.

Mahir, however, sported a reiteration of the Mona Lisa smile, leisurely gesturing towards your untouched mug steaming on the bedside table.

“Shut up and have some tea, petal” he completed the order with a sweet voice reminding you of English grandmothers.

To that, you had no response whatsoever. And so, you glared at him, shooting daggers in his direction mercilessly as you picked up the mug and took a sip. The bitterness of the brew washing away the infuriating taste of medicine from your tongue.

Only Neil was capable of that. Aside from Twinings. You felt like he would appreciate the compliment and filed it for your next conversation. Along with a kiss, naturally.

As the comfortable silence settled in the room, you found the needed courage to say something that has been missing before.

“Thank you for coming back,” you whispered the words shyly before glancing at Mahir for a reaction.

He smiled gently as though genuinely surprised by the sentiment. Because it was not really that he came back for you. Or for any of you. But what you wanted to say was: Thank you for coming to see me. And what came out was as close to it as it could get without putting your sensitivity in the line of fire.

You shared one meaningful look before he found the response:

“Well, apart from being bloody convenient, I must admit our few days in Oslo were fun. Probably most I had on a job in a while” the mischievous sparks in his eyes were perfectly reflected by your feelings.

Oslo truly was the golden era, if anything like that could apply to your sparse experience in the business. It was crazy plans in the hotel room, tired singing and dancing sessions to Norwegian MTV and budding love. What’s better than that?

“Ditto,” you grinned, accepting the toast with tea mugs, and added, “Though I’m not sure about the pining fest that you had to witness” grimacing slightly, you felt the familiar flash of embarrassment.

Mahir evidently thought of the same few incidents, for he smiled knowingly and shrugged:

“It was amusing, especially when knowing that you’re destined to be together. Whether you wanted that or not”

It was hard to keep a straight face. Both because you knew he was right and because of that small part of you that suffered from wounded pride. From being seen through. For being so blatantly infatuated.

“Seems like Tenet consists of clairvoyants,” the fleeting irritation expressed through the comment.

And no offence taken.

“Professional bias,” Mahir shrugged, both of you recollecting a similar conversation back in Norway.

The memories not stopping the final remark pressed upon your lips:

“That doesn’t make sense either” you regarded him coolly over the rim of the mug.

The door creaked, forcing you to end the staring contest and see the newcomer. Neil, of course. Unconsciously, you grinned, taking in his ruffled hair and joggers. He was very different from the dashing gentleman you have met in the London café. And so much better.

As he noticed the guest, that special fond smile reserved for you transformed into a happy expression.

“Mahir, nice to see you,” you observed as they shook hands, and Neil sat down in the chair closer to your side.

As always.

Without missing a beat (or minding the company), he took your hand in his and raised it to his lips, laying a kiss on the knuckles. Tenderness adding a pinprick of growing pains to the mending heart. It was all about evolution.

“What have I missed?” Neil addressed you both conversationally.

You did not want to waste that one chance from the universe. The perfect cue. You shot a glance towards Mahir, a calculative one to let him know you would not be defeated. And then turned towards Neil with an innocent expression:

“Did you know that love and recklessness are two halves of the same coin?”

Let there be chaos.

***

With each day bringing you all closer to the end of that chapter and closer to the shores of Norway, you got more accustomed to the reality. That meant spending most of the waking hours with Neil. Talking, kissing, and compensating for your previous fuck-ups by finding innovative ways of breaching the barriers of hospital beds. Which, in your case, worked best when Neil would rest his head on the safety railing, allowing you to run your fingers through his hair for however long you wanted while he kept your hand in a tight hold.

That is how you were seated when one afternoon Henrik came in to change the gauzes on your wounds. While the procedure was not anything new, it was the first time that Neil was present during it. And that, for whatever reason, made your anxiety rebel.

As he obediently drew the chair away, throwing idle remarks at the friendly medic, you hesitated, your fingers fiddling with the edges of the nightgown. You always had to slip off the top to provide access to the bandages wrapped around your shoulder and torso, which, usually, was done unconsciously. Not today, however.

Because what if Neil didn’t want to see you like that? What if he found it ugly, hideous? What if the idea of a gunshot wound triggered him in any way? What would that mean for your future?

Cursing quietly at the multiplying questions and your inability to make them go away, you did not notice when the man in question turned to observe you quietly. Then he stepped closer, tipping your chin so you could not avoid the soul-searching. Neil’s favourite technique of reading you like an open book.

Now he simply arched his eyebrow, an expression of question and determination to understand what was wrong. You sighed silently, tuning out the presence of another person in the room before you tried to piece the sentence together:

“You can leave… if you’re uncomfortable with this. I understand-” unable to meet Neil’s piercing gaze, you stuttered over the words.

It was not quite what you wanted to tell him. But it had to be enough.

“Are you serious?” it was his turn to sigh, the exasperation tinting the vowels, “In sickness and in health, isn’t that how it goes?” he pressed his forehead against yours, forcing you to look at him.

And see the gentle smile. And understand what he just said. Oh my god. You gasped, eyes widening at the suggestion. Pulse picking up as it always would. Henrik was entirely forgotten.

“…Yes, but we’re not- We’ve never-” your ramblings stopped with the gentle pressure of the pad of his thumb against your lips.

The affectionate glimmer in Neil’s eyes adding on to the pile of issues. Deep down in your heart, you knew what his answer would be. Because that topic never went off the agenda anymore with Neil constantly willing to remind you that it really was happening.

Now his grin somehow softened even more as he nudged your nose with his lightly. Then, a simple affirmation, making the breath catch in your throat:

“But we will,” the certainty overwhelming in those three words.

We will. For a moment, you wanted to kiss Neil. Hard and slow. Then you considered asking him to propose again because, after all, the future you wanted was finally here. And then you debated whether not to ask him to marry you.

But all those plans got interrupted with the sound of someone clearing their throat meaningfully. Henrik.

Neil took a step back once more, the mournful look in his eyes almost triggering a laugh. Ridiculous nerves were gone, that’s for sure.

“I feel like I’m interrupting a moment here,” the medic spoke up, eyeing you knowingly.

You gave him an apologetic smile before making use of the confidence flowing back into your veins:

“Sorry, you never know when this one is going to turn into a Mr. Darcy wannabe” throwing a sideways glance at Neil, you added, “It’s either that or clueless idiot” you reached out to pat him on the knee for good measure.

Henrik snorted, a genuine laugh breaking through the silence.

“Sounds about right,” he choked out once he could breathe properly again.

You just about caught the harsh glare Neil sent you. Underneath, you could see the happy smile forming. It was all so much better already.

It was only long after Henrik left, and you picked up the abandoned caresses, that the euphoric mood diminished by a degree. As the silence fell, you noticed a visible crease form between Neil’s furrowed brows. That could never be a sign of anything good.

Gently, you reached out to brush away the stray strands from his forehead and whispered the question:

“What are you thinking about?” you let your fingers linger behind, trailing down his temple and over the sharp cheekbone.

Slowly, as though waking up from slumber, Neil met your searching gaze. His eyes were troubled, clouded with the weight of pain and worry. Somehow you could tell where the conversation was heading.

“There was no other way” the answer came with no preamble.

No context, yet you understood. It was something you thought about often, spending hours before the sleeping pills kicked in going over the alternative timelines.

There really was no other way.

“I think so” nodding you cautiously wrapped your hand around Neil’s.

Keeping tight hold. Letting him know that you were willing to discuss it. Because perhaps it was time to face the demons. To make peace with your decisions.

Neil held your gaze, squeezing your palm lightly. The simple gratitude shining through his eyes before he spoke up again:

“When you were unconscious, I put my useless brain to work and ran over every single scenario of what could’ve happened. Every single one that didn’t involve your… it failed” he stumbled over the reality, throat catching on the long-shed tears.

It was what you understood in those dark hours of the night. There was no reality where you could avoid sacrifice. Other scenarios: Neil shot, lock unopened, Ives and TP dead. The bomb, going off with no one to stop it. Apocalypse in the biblical sense. You dared not think about other repercussions. About how easy it could have been to miss the crucial piece of the puzzle. Shutting away the rising anxiety, you replied:

“I know, I think it was the only way that worked” you brushed your thumb over his knuckles.

Feeling the old scars and the smooth skin. So alive.

Yet when you looked up at Neil, you got caught by the uncertainty in his face. As if he understood the outcome of the problem but not the reasoning behind it.

“It’s just… why?” he whispered the question with the look of someone despaired to understand.

Your heart squeezed painfully over the idea that he did not accept the seemingly obvious answer. That he questioned your motivation. As if it was not undeniable. Idiot.

Using your joined hands as bait, you urged him to get closer. You waited until he could rest his elbow on the railing to start speaking:

“Why did I do it? Because I love you” a self-explanatory shrug, taking pleasure in his shallow gasp “Because you’re my Neil. An idiot with dashing looks and a huge heart that is worth everything I can offer” closing the gap, you once more trailed your fingertips over his features, unable to look away as the words poured out “Because of New York and the fact that you’ve made it incredibly hard not to fall in love with you” a shadow of a smile in his stunned face a reason to go a step further “Because I’m 99.9% sure you’re the one. You have to be” allowing the tears to pool in your eyes, you whispered yet another confession; it was hard to stop them once they started “Because I never knew a kiss can feel like that until that dodgy neighbourhood in NYC” every word was true, only waiting for its moment through all those moments “Because you’re unforgettable and I’d do everything for you” finishing the speech, you tipped Neil’s chin to look into his eyes properly.

The glossy tint over the blue irises and a single tear trail running down his cheek were all the signs you needed. Neil exhaled shakily, closing his eyes for a moment as though to gather the thoughts. You could feel your heart beating out a chaotic rhythm, unable to hold all that love inside. It flooded your system, making stars appear in the corners of your vision as you slowly breathed out. Everything was worth it. Every word was worth it.

Then Neil opened his eyes and closed the gap, pulling you in for a kiss. It was one of those that tasted both of tears and happiness. The salt, melting on your tongue as you traced the outline of his mouth. A broken whimper getting caught on your lip. The greedy teeth clanking when the needs overcame the gentleness. Neil’s fingers, tangling in your hair, pulling you underneath the torrent. Nothing but love. You could feel it in how he breathed out your name in the gaps between your lips. In the way his tongue curled around yours, giving away pride and dominance. Giving everything you could ask for. Only yours. The familiar phrase rang out in your ears as you melted underneath his touch, eager hands bruising his skin. Only this and nothing else.

You only broke apart when the need for oxygen became apparent. Hesitantly, Neil left another peck on your closed lips and leaned back, meeting your gaze with an infatuated expression painted all over his face. He seemed transfixed, unable and unwilling to look away. Shyly, you smiled, suddenly wanting to be frozen in that moment. To never let this one go. It only got stronger when Neil broke the silence.

“You’re incredible” he mirrored your grin, cupping your cheek gently.

You let out a long exhale, pressing your forehead against his to get as close as you could. Letting go of his hand, you placed your palm over his chest, feeling the heartbeat underneath the t-shirt. Upon the simple gesture, Neil’s breath hitched, pulse picking up. It was so easy. Elementary. Magical.

Curling your fingers around the shirt collar, you whispered the reply in the breath of space between your faces:

“Then that makes two of us, sunshine” the corner of Neil’s mouth curled at the nickname.

He seemed to like it, and that was all that mattered. Reluctant to back out just yet, you traced your fingers up his neck, feeling the warmth of the skin. The exact moment when the smooth texture gave way to prickly stubble. The slight shiver.

Questioningly, you met Neil’s intense gaze and sent him a confident smirk in response. The power felt almost electrifying. It was only when he placed a kiss on your forehead and squeezed your hand that you knew that he wanted to talk about something else.

Curious, you observed as he tried to form the question with eyebrows furrowed and mild consternation on his face. And then he looked up again and opened his mouth:

“How are you so…” trailing off, the pleading glimmer in his eyes making the feelings even stronger.

You knew what he meant. And yet.

“Crazy? Infatuated?” a hesitant grin welcoming itself onto your face.

Because once the truth was spoken, it was hard to keep it out of the conversation. Because you wanted him to know that you loved him. And that there was no possibility of that ever changing.

“Honest,” Neil offered the word with a thoughtful frown, “It’s what surprised me the most, I think. How suddenly you stopped being afraid to open before me, despite what I’ve done,” the hint of bitterness making you eager to protest.

“But you won’t do it again,” you were quick to retort, never letting the doubt slip in.

Because there was none left. Despite the raging anxiety and lack of confidence daily transforming your life into a battlefield, you trusted Neil. And his feelings. The only thing worth fighting for.

Your unwavering belief was what gave Neil the needed kick. He reached out to once more clasp your hand between his palms and nodded.

“I won’t” the murmur was given only for the sake of his conscience.

It was one of those affirmations you did not need to be repeated. And yet, seeing his struggles with the demons of the not-so-distant past, you chose to give an elaborate answer to the previous question:

“I’ve always kept my thoughts and secrets close to avoid what eventually happened…” a meaningful pause, knowing he will catch on “But with you, everything is so much easier. Because I know that it won’t backfire” the spark of confidence igniting your heart, letting the tongue finish the work “Let’s just say that finally, I’m allowing myself to believe that you want… me” hopefully, you met his gaze again, waiting for a reaction.

But you did not need to wait long. Neil gave you one of those brilliant smiles he excelled at and leaned in close. Gently, he let his lips glide over yours, the tender touch resulting in sparks travelling down your veins. Unable to hold back, you sighed, reaching out to tangle your fingers in his hair. In response, Neil broke away a millimetre, choosing to tease you with the ghostly kisses. Gradually it became a game you were willing to follow, finding a rush in the tame touch and the potential to share a breath. As he added the careful caress of your arm underneath the nightgown, you felt the heat rise. In the space between one heartbeat and the next, you realised that it was how love was always supposed to be. That you finally found it and there would be no more searching. Hope flooded the system as you finally broke the intoxicating duel and met Neil’s searching gaze. He licked his lips clean with a satisfied smile and asked:

“How was that?” the challenging glimmer told you he knew exactly how it was.

There was nothing to do but mirror his grin and admit the ultimate truth.

“Good. Very good” cutting the curt nod short, you pulled Neil closer.

To use the momentum, naturally. For once, everything felt perfect.

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

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morgansdeb · 3 years

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It’s literally canon that Johnny has yet to show any real concern for Robby. Let’s not forget that at the beginning of s3, when Robby had been missing for weeks, Johnny was busy getting drunk and beating up random men in the middle of the street instead of looking for him. Daniel had to be the one to tell Johnny that they should look for Robby, and Johnny bailed right in the middle of the search.

Right after Robby got out of juvie, Johnny let him walk away and didn’t care where he was. He spent the season more interested in impressing his high school ex-girlfriend than trying to do something for his son.

s3 ended with Johnny accidentally slamming Robby into a row of lockers and knocking him unconscious for at least 5 minutes, and yet s4 started with Johnny not mentioning Robby even once. In fact, they don’t see each other until 4x04, and that only happened because Robby went to him. Instead of apologizing, Johnny pretty much told him to fuck off and spent the rest of the season ignoring him.

It also doesn’t help that the two times we see Johnny getting emotional over Robby, it’s when he’s with Miguel. He told Miguel in s2 that not being there for Robby is his biggest regret, and then in s4, he drunkenly mistakes Miguel for Robby and says “I love you.” But why should I believe this?? Because Robby is Johnny’s biological son, so of course he has to love him?? Except we know that biology doesn’t matter, because plenty of parents treat their bio kids like shit.

Even in 4x08, when Johnny gets his ass kicked by Silver and sees how dangerous he is, he goes home to get drunk instead of trying to find Robby.

The fact that one of the cliffhangers of s4 is “will Johnny and Miguel be okay??” is laughable to me, because from the very first episode, Miguel has been used as a means to redeem Johnny. We know things between Miguel and his bio dad will not work out, and that Johnny will burst into the room to save him, because Johnny has no problem flying to another country to look for Miguel, but somehow driving around town to look for Robby was too difficult for him.

And before anyone comes for me, I’m not saying Johnny should ditch Miguel. I fully agree that Johnny did him dirty this season and hurt him... but he’s also been hurting Robby since he was a baby. We saw Johnny fighting for Miguel in s3 and I’m sure s5 will be more of the same. But Robby hasn’t received even a quarter of that concern, and that makes me not want to root for Johnny as a character.

Somehow Johnny can throw multiple tantrums because Daniel is spending time with Miguel and teaching him things, but Robby spends months around a man who abused Johnny as a teenager and tried to kill him twice and Johnny... is okay with it?? How come Johnny spends the entire show talking about how Kreese ruined his life, and yet when his son finds himself in the same position, he does nothing?? Robby had to break down in tears in front of Johnny for him to finally pull him into a hug.

The writers compared the Robby/Kenny dynamic to Johnny/Robby, except that makes no sense because Kenny isn’t Robby’s son and Robby didn’t have any obligations to Kenny when he first met him.

The writers, producers, general audience, critics, and interviewers all love Johnny and don’t see anything wrong with the way he treats Robby. I’ve never seen any of these people call it out.

The problems in the Johnny/Robby dynamic are blamed on Robby. Somehow it was all his fault for being too angry at his dad, for being too bitter. Johnny is absolved by the narrative and the majority of the fanbase of his neglectful behavior and that’s just... bad?? I cut Johnny slack during the first two seasons because the story was starting, but it’s been four seasons now. The writing for him is sloppy, and I do love characters who fuck up and make mistakes, but the problem is that Johnny’s mistakes are always somebody else’s fault (Robby, Daniel, Shannon). That’s not compelling or entertaining.

It’s also very telling that Johnny’s bullying and violence against Daniel somehow got reduced to “well, both were jerks in high school!!” when anyone with braincells who watched the movie knows that Daniel didn’t do anything wrong and that Johnny chose to attack him because he was jealous and entitled.

#cobra kai #robby keene #johnny lawrence #daniel larusso #miguel diaz #mypost

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heyitssmiller · 3 years

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Clandestine: Chapter Thirteen

Fitting that this is chapter thirteen. It was destined to be unlucky. And it was also the hardest one to write by far. Thanks for being so patient with me. One last cliffhanger, yes? For old time’s sake.

@lumosinlove your characters continue to live in my head rent-free, so thank you!

@donttouchmycarrots is my dude, my pal, my babe, and the best proofreader ever

Special thanks to @wonder-womans-ex for providing what just might be my favorite line in this chapter

Clandestine Masterlist

CW: violence, gun violence, nightmares, anxiety, mentions of food, injuries

Logan woke up to Finn crying.

He was admittedly good at being quiet about it – he muffled any noise into his pillow, body turned towards the wall and curled up tight. It was the shaking that gave him away. Logan wasn’t sure what was going on at first, but his heart just about shattered when he realized. He rolled over to face Finn, pulling him gently into his arms and holding him close. His heart lurched as the redhead shuddered and buried his face in Logan’s chest, arms wrapping around him tightly as he sniffled. Logan screwed his eyes shut and breathed, nice and slow in an attempt to get Finn to match him. He wasn’t sure what was upsetting his partner, but he wanted nothing more than to fix it, to help however he could. Finn leaned further into him and stayed there for what felt like an eternity before he calmed down, breaths slowing and tears drying.

Logan could feel every swell of muscle, every gentle dip between his ribs, the eyelashes that were still wet and clumped together, the way his skin felt all clammy. He wished he could pull him even closer, hold him even tighter, even though there was physically no distance between them. Maybe Finn could find comfort in the confines of his arms, the way Logan had found safety in Finn’s.

“Want to talk about it?” he finally whispered, making Finn tense up again. He peered over Logan’s shoulder to look at their sleeping partner, then looked back down at Logan.

Sometimes Finn just took his breath away. Sure, his eyes were glassy and his nose was red from crying but he was still so beautiful, with muted light filtering through the curtains turning messy auburn hair into shiny copper, seeming to glitter in the sunlight. Big, brown doe eyes looking so incredibly soft as he stared down at Logan. He didn’t think he’d ever get used to being looked at like that. Like he was something to be cherished, something to be adored.

Logan felt his breath hitch.

“Hallway?” Finn asked, glancing back at Leo. “Don’t want to wake him up.”

Logan smiled. He loved learning how all three of them showed love and how it varied depending on which partner they were interacting with. Finn was more teasing with Logan, always throwing jabs and chasing them with happy grins and lots of kisses. With Leo he – well, he still teased mercilessly, but it was softer around the edges. The kind of affection that made him get all squinty-eyed because he was smiling so much and too-tight hugs because he couldn’t possibly hold back. Leo didn’t act that different when it came down to it, but he picked up quickly on what the two of them liked – intertwining his fingers with Finn’s as often as he could, running his hand through Logan’s hair time and time again. The constant motion of his hands was directed at the two of them instead of the lock in his pocket more often than not, a new soothing habit forming quickly. It was adorable. Logan wasn’t really sure how he was different, but he knew he was softer with the two of them more than he’d been with anyone else. He could feel himself turning into a sappy romantic and he wanted to hate it, but he really couldn’t.

Finn scrambled up reluctantly and Logan followed him across the room, nervous and itching to pull Finn back into his arms. He reached for Finn as soon as the door closed completely. “Bad dream?” His stomach dropped when Finn just nodded, biting down on his lip hard as his eyes welled up with tears again.

“I don’t want to go back there.” Finn admitted, voice a soft whisper in the silence of the hallway. Logan sighed and pressed closer, standing on his tiptoes just a little to loop his arms around Finn’s neck. Logan didn’t want to go back, either, but it was different for Finn. He’d been there for longer, after all, and Logan still wasn’t sure exactly what had happened during that time. Finn refused to talk about it, and Logan was too afraid to ask, as selfish as that made him feel. To top it all off, Logan had no idea how to help. Usually bad dreams were only loosely based on reality – but Logan had a feeling these were a little too real. They’d lived it, after all. To wake up from a nightmare and realize it was basically reality…

How could you comfort someone who’s bad dreams were all true?

“I know,” he said simply, lacking the words for anything else and running his fingers through Finn’s messy bedhead soothingly.

“We won’t be there for too long.” Finn said after a while. He seemed to be trying to comfort Logan with the words, even though he was the one who had been crying about it earlier. Logan ached for the redhead. He had such a big heart, always putting others before himself even if he was in a bad place himself. Logan needed to pay more attention, to pinpoint that evasion tactic and not let him get away with it. Everyone needed solace, even the ones who primarily did the comforting.

Finn’s eyes had closed sometime earlier, his head tilted to lean into Logan’s hand, his breath tickling the inside of Logan’s wrist. Logan wiped away a stray tear tenderly and sighed. Finn didn’t seem to want to talk about it. Logan wasn’t going to force him to talk, but he was worried about what would happen if he didn’t talk about it with someone. Sometimes it was nice to talk to someone with an outside perspective – someone who wasn’t in the thick of it like Logan was. So Logan reluctantly let it go for now and tried the next best thing: cheering Finn up.

“And it’ll be nice to bash some heads in while we’re there.”

That earned a laugh from Finn, and Logan felt such stark relief at the sight – it left him a little breathless. It was sad that a genuine laugh from either of his partners was so rare now. Logan felt like he needed to cherish them when they happened.

How depressing was that?

“Bashing some heads in is now on the list, I guess.” Finn murmured, placing a lingering kiss to Logan’s temple, who hummed thoughtfully.

“Do you even know how to throw a punch?”

Finn was in the process of kissing Logan when he said that, which just turned into a laugh against Logan’s lips. “No, but you do.” Logan could hear the smile in his voice. “And that’s way hotter than it probably should be.”

Logan looked up at him nervously to make sure he wasn’t kidding, then relaxed at the honesty in those mischievous eyes. Even upset and stressed, Finn somehow knew what to say to soothe worries Logan hadn’t even told him about. Being in a job like his… well it was ugly. It was brutal and violent and messy and not many people would want to be involved with someone like that – someone with bloodstained hands, too many paranoid tics, and a heavy, guilty conscience.

Finn and Leo didn’t seem to mind all that much, thankfully.

The realization made Logan grin sharply and nip at Finn’s lower lip before delving into another deep, intoxicating kiss. It was too easy, getting lost when he kissed Finn. So much of their surroundings faded away until all he was aware of was the feel of slightly chapped lips against his and hands holding his hips in order to pull him closer. Finn seemed to have that effect on Logan – he always had, ever since that New Years party. He was the kind of person everyone naturally gravitated towards, pulled in without a second thought. It was part of what made him so damn good at his job.

Finn breathed in sharply before kissing him again, heady and sure of himself and making Logan weak in the knees. All five senses were overwhelmed with Finn, Finn, Finn. It thrummed along with his pulse in a steady, loud rhythm. And yet his mind still drifted back to the bedroom with Leo, the thought of joining him back in bed tugging at him just as Finn broke the kiss and pulled him back towards the door, a knowing look in his eyes.

“Sometimes I’m convinced you’re a mind reader.” Logan smiled and willingly let himself get drawn back into the quiet, sleepy warmth of the bedroom. Finn just shrugged.

“Maybe I am.”

Leo was still sound asleep, sprawled out on his back with one leg sticking out from underneath the covers and hanging off the side of the bed at what looked like a very uncomfortable angle. Logan smiled at Finn’s affectionate snort, then followed him back to bed and crawled in the middle again. He curled up on his side, facing the blond as Finn pressed against his back and tangled their legs together. Leo’s hand moved up the bed, searching for Logan’s until he found it and then seemed to drift off to sleep again with a content sigh.

It scared Logan a little, how important the two of them had become in such a short amount of time. They were slowly invading more and more space in his head until his only thoughts seemed to be about them, all the time. Maybe it should be a little worrying, but Logan couldn’t find it in himself to be too concerned – not when the thoughts made his chest feel light as air and his stomach full of butterflies.

***

It was getting close to go-time, and everyone was on edge. The energy was palpable, like an electric current flowing through the group. Shoulders were tense, words were short and clipped, a sense of focus and determination in the air.

Leo had never been part of something like this. The only missions he’d been on were with Logan and Finn and that was it. Having a big group like this, all feeling the same things and wanting the same goal, it was intoxicating. It sucked you in and made you want to be a part of it, too.

But he couldn’t. He was stuck here, on the sidelines, left to wait aimlessly until everyone returned. That meant letting them go and resigning himself to a night of restlessness and worry.

Leo hated it.

He didn’t cling to his partners like he so desperately wanted to. If he did, he wasn’t sure he’d be able to let go again. He didn’t ask for empty promises of being careful, nor did he beg them to be safe. He couldn’t hold them to words they might not be able to keep. But he allowed himself to stare, just a bit. He let his eyes linger over Logan’s steady hands as he loaded his gun and methodically checked it three times, just like always. He watched Finn pull a clean shirt over his head and fiddle with the sleeves, seemingly lost in thought. Leo memorized what he could, just in case. The exact shade of Logan’s eyes, the freckle pattern across Finn’s cheeks and nose. He hated that his brain automatically jumped to worse-case scenario like that, but – well, considering the circumstances and what they’d already been through at the hands of the Snakes… could you blame him?

There was also this feeling in the pit of Leo’s stomach. He wasn’t sure if this was just the anxiety talking, but everything in that moment felt so decided, so final.

It felt like goodbye.

As if Finn knew exactly what was going on in his head, he drew Leo in for a hug and kissed his cheek, lingering for a second before leaning back to meet his eyes. They shared one of those looks – one that expressed a multitude of emotions without saying a single word. When Finn kissed him, it was deep and achingly slow. He was taking his time, wanting to make the moment last as long as he could. Leo knew the feeling. He fisted his hand in Finn’s shirt and pulled him impossibly closer, tilting his head for a better angle and softly running his tongue across the seam of his lips. A gentle rush, a quiet thrill, but still with a noticeable, tangible melancholy.

Leo could still count the number of kisses they’d shared on two hands. That wasn’t nearly enough for him. He wanted as many different types of kisses as he could think of – happy, teasing, soft, hard, tender, and everything in between. He wanted to lose count by the end of the week. He wanted to learn everything there was to know about his partners.

He just hoped they’d get that chance.

Logan pressed up against the two of them, slotting seamlessly into place. Transitioning from kissing Finn to kissing Logan was as easy as breathing – a simple turn of his head and a slight bend to accommodate for the height difference. It was the kind of kiss you were meant to remember. A whirlwind of sweet and passionate, deep and gentle, loving and regretful.

More than anything it just hurt.

Leo’s gut churned as he pulled back and looked at the two of them, lost for words. What was he supposed to say in a situation like this, after all? He didn’t think there was anything he could say to make this easier, or reassure them. Words didn’t seem like enough anymore – they just felt insincere and meaningless. Leo didn’t think he’d ever faced that problem before. Words usually came fairly easily to him, especially if something was important to him. But now they were failing him and it left him feeling even more lost, adrift in a raging sea that he had no idea how to navigate.

“Let’s do this,” Finn said finally, part resigned and part determined, before heading towards the bedroom door.

The rest seemed to happen all at once in a blinding flurry of activity. Goodbyes with the team were quick and rushed and then they were all loading up into cars, green and brown eyes meeting his every once in a while before the doors closed and the engines growled to life.

Leo watched the caravan of cars head down the driveway, then rushed across the wrap-around porch to keep them in his sights for as long as he could until they disappeared behind an outcropping of trees. He kept his eyes trained on the spot and clung to the wooden railing with a white-knuckled grip.

And that was where he would stay. If that was the last place he saw them, it would be the first place he would see them again. He didn’t care if he stood there all night until it bled into morning; he wasn’t moving an inch.

***

Sirius sat in the backseat next to Remus for the drive, which was silent and tense with rising adrenaline and battle plans running through everyone’s heads – especially Remus’. He could practically see his mind working. He’d been planning nonstop for the past two days to make sure that all the loose ends were tied up and that they were doing this the right way. Any illegal processes now could compromise the court trials that would come after putting the Snakes behind bars. Between that and coordinating between the other agencies that were helping them take down the Snakes, it was looking like a Herculean task. They could’ve pulled out the big guns and requested help from the FBI, but no one really wanted to do that. This was personal, after all – for pretty much everyone on the team. The feds could take over later, after everyone was apprehended.

Remus chewed at his lower lip, eyes trained on nothing in particular. The back of his head was highlighted in the headlights of the car behind them, illuminating in a startling contrast to the rest of the dark interior of the van. Sirius stared and stared until he just couldn’t help it. He reached over to turn Remus’ head towards him, then ran his thumb lightly over that abused lower lip until Remus let it go. Color seeped back into it, turning the pink a darker, cherry red. Again, Sirius stared. That mouth quirked into a teasing smile.

“You’re going to chew a hole in your lip if you keep that up.” He said and looked up into honey-colored eyes, slowly pulling his hand back. Remus just huffed under his breath – a short, nervous shadow of his normal laugh.

“Yeah. I could really go for some chapstick right now.”

Sirius smiled, pulling Remus towards him and kissing him gently, reverently. It still kind of blew his mind, how much things had changed in the past few months. Remus used to hate him. Well, maybe hate was a strong word, but they definitely weren’t friends. And now here they were, making out in the back of a van. Even though their mission was coming to an end and Sirius really wouldn’t have a reason to stay in Gryffindor any more, he could no longer fathom leaving. Remus played a huge part in that, of course, but Sirius also had friends now – real friends who didn’t try to use him constantly or only contacted him when they needed something. He had a home, as ridiculously cliché as that sounded. Nothing about Slytherin felt like this, and it made Sirius wonder if he’d ever actually had a place to call home before he found himself in Remus’ tiny apartment with the dying houseplant and the lumpy couch and an entire cabinet devoted solely to mugs.

The kiss turned softer until Sirius pulled back and just looked at him, an overwhelming rush of emotion in his chest. Remus wasn’t his home – one person couldn’t be all of that, Sirius knew that much – but he sure was a big part of it.

Remus licked his lips thoughtfully, tasting Sirius’ chapstick. “What flavor is that?”

“Pina colada.”

“Nice.”

That made Sirius smile again. “It’s going to be fine, Re.” Sirius reassured and tucked Remus against his side. It was an awkward squeeze in the back of a van, but neither of them cared.

“Yeah,” Remus sighed, sounding like he was trying to convince himself. “We’ll be ok.”

They both flew out of their seats a little when the van hit a pothole, smushing them closer together. Sirius pressed a kiss to his temple, soft and lingering, before speaking up again. “Do you want to talk through the plan once more?”

Sirius always found that talking through things helped calm him down. Saying the facts out loud tended to get rid of the unnecessary fears going on inside his head, plus it made him feel more prepared. And he knew Remus was the same way, from all the times he’d helped the analyst plan missions.

This earned him a soft, thankful smile and then Remus was off, talking a mile a minute about strategies and backup plans and anything else he could think of. Sirius let his voice wash over him and tried to ignore the dread settling in the pit of his stomach.

***

Leo didn’t know how long he stood there, gaze never once wavering from the treeline, when Hope joined him. She held out a mug for him, full of what looked like hot chocolate and a thick layer of whipped cream. Leo smiled faintly in thanks and took it before returning to his vigil. It was so quiet outside. No crickets like back home, no wind whistling through the trees, nothing. It set Leo on edge.

“So,” Hope mercifully interrupted the silence, “I heard you like to cook.”

Leo looked over at her, more than a little confused at the non sequitur. “Yeah. I do.”

She traced along the grain of the wooden railing, avoiding the chipping paint. “Those boys might be hungry when they get back, and that’s a whole lot of cooking to do by myself. Care to lend a hand?”

Leo snorted at the accidental pun and looked down at the hand trapped in a sling. He knew what she was doing, and he couldn’t find it in himself to be mad. He could definitely use the distraction.

“That sounds perfect.” He said and followed her inside, only casting one glance over his shoulder at where the driveway disappeared and the woods began before he joined Hope in the warm glow of the kitchen. Lyall and Jules were there too; they had the refrigerator door thrown open and seemed to just be staring at the contents. They looked so alike, standing side by side like that. The same slightly-bowed legs and identical shades of brown hair. Lyall gave his son a mischievous look, reached for the can of whipped cream, and squirted some directly into his mouth while Jules watched on with his jaw nearly on the floor.

“I didn’t know we were allowed to do that!” he gasped and snatched the can from his dad. A few seconds later there was whipped cream in his mouth. And on his chin, cheeks, a little on his nose…

Hope sighed good-naturedly. “You’re teaching our son bad habits and making a mess.”

Lyall just bent over laughing, a snort escaping every once in a while.

Leo smiled as Jules tried to get all the whipped cream that missed his intended target with his tongue, eyes crossing in the process. He took a sip of his hot chocolate and leaned back against the kitchen counter as Lyall kept pointing to places on his face that Jules had missed. Hope shared a look with Leo and rolled her eyes in a “what can you do?” kind of gesture. It was all so lighthearted and affectionate and exactly what Leo needed in that moment.

He wondered if Hope somehow just knew these things – it was definitely possible. Mother’s intuition and all.

“So what are we making?” She asked, tying her hair up while Lyall threw an apron over his neck. Jules was still working on the whipped cream.

Leo shrugged his good shoulder. “What do you have in the pantry?”

“So much!” Jules exclaimed, deeming his face good enough and throwing the pantry door open. “We’ve got pancake mix, potato chips, poptarts, hot dog buns-”

***

The take-down mission was going about as well as expected.

Which meant that it was going well, but it was also a chaotic disaster at the same time. Fitting, right?

Agents were everywhere, it seemed, outnumbering the Snakes at least three-to-one. The Snakes were scattering, running for the exits and fighting tooth and nail to get out – whether that was with weapons they had or just their fists, they weren’t going down without a fight. But even if they made it out, they were met with another line of defense waiting for them in the form of the Durmstrang agents.

Remus really had the op planned out to the last contingency, it seemed.

Logan and Finn were headed down an unfamiliar hallway, looking for stragglers to round up and escort outside. Most Snakes had joined the main fight to get out, sequestered in the entryway. Logan was glad they were tasked with this, though. There were too many familiar faces back there – Greyback, Lestrange, Snape. Logan wasn’t sure he was quite ready for that just yet. Between that and the sound of gunshots echoing in his head… well, let’s just say it brought back bad memories. And even though it wasn’t the best utilization of his skillset, he hadn’t been separated from his partner. He’d learned from experience what a bad idea that was. When this was all over, he wasn’t letting the two of them out of his sight for at least a week.

God, he couldn’t wait for this to be over.

Movement caught his eye and his gun was instantly up and aimed at the person. Yellow eyes landed on them and Logan held his breath, every muscle tensing and adrenaline spiking.

Logan knew they had direct orders to bring the Snakes in alive, but it was much harder to think about that when he was staring Riddle down from the sights of his gun. He knew exactly where to aim – he’d seen it mapped out on Leo’s chest, memorized the angry red wound contrasting against the gentle slope of his collarbone. A shot not intended to kill, but to inflict unfathomable levels of pain – another thing Logan had branded into his memory. A shot that was intentional, designed to send a message. And Logan definitely wanted to send back a reply.

Riddle recognized them and got this smug gleam in his eyes. “Long time, no see.”

Logan’s finger twitched against the trigger.

“Trust me, we’re planning on never seeing you again.” Finn said, then sighed dramatically. “And it looks like that dream is going to become a reality, since we’ve got all the evidence we need to lock you up for – what do you think, Logan? Two life sentences?”

“I’m banking on three.”

“But it’s not really up to us, now is it?” Finn shrugged. “If it were, I think you’d be dead by now, so I guess we’ll have to wait and see what the judge says.”

Riddle still looked remarkably calm. And it was that ego, that sense of infallibility that ended up being his downfall. “All the evidence you have is circumstantial. Any decent lawyer can get those charges dismissed.”

“Sure.” Finn’s smile turned lethal, knowing he had Riddle right where he wanted him, ready to deliver the final blow and relish in the aftermath. “But I think all that detailed information on the flash drives can put you away for a long time. Why seven flash drives, by the way? Lucky number?”

Riddle’s smile faded in increments as the realization struck. “That’s not possible.”

“Oh, it’s very possible. You can thank the guy you shot for that.” Finn said darkly. They watched the gears turning in Riddle’s head, then the way his face turned from pale to a sickly green. His hand went to the inside pocket of his jacket where his flash drive used to be – where the fake one now was, switched when Riddle had pulled a bleeding, agonized Leo close to taunt Logan and Finn through his microphone.

Yeah. Karma was a real bitch sometimes.

Logan smiled, grim but glad to finally be putting this guy behind bars. “You’re coming with us.”

***

“Yo,” Pots said into a phone, a grin almost too wide on his face, “we got some stinky bastards over here. Can you come get them please and thank you?”

Remus snorted at his antics, no doubt talking to the FBI since processing criminals was in their jurisdiction now and not Gryffindor’s. He almost wished it was on speaker phone – he would’ve loved to hear their response.

Remus found Sirius waiting in the parking lot, watching all the Snakes get corralled into transport vehicles and taken to whichever prison they were being kept in until the trial. Some of their own agents were by the ambulance getting tended to, but there weren’t any serious injuries, thank god. Talker took a superficial gunshot to the thigh and Kuny’s arm got grazed by a bullet but everyone else was fine. The element of surprise and the backup by the other agencies really did wonders. That and the fact that they were all armed to the teeth and not even thinking about leaving this job unfinished. They had a pretty good reason to win this round, after all.

He couldn’t believe it was all over. This mission had taken months and lead to way too many problems, but they were finally done with it. They could finally move on. Remus was thinking of taking the next week off of work and spending it at the cabin, just him and Sirius. A much-needed vacation sounded like a dream right about now.

Sirius’ back was to him, but he heard Remus coming and didn’t flinch when long arms wrapped around him, tight and secure. He leaned back into the familiar warmth behind him and let himself be held. He’d been great in there. Remus had been a little worried about letting him come, afraid that taking down people he’d worked with for years would be too hard for him or – even worse – that his presence would be a bright red bullseye for the Snakes. Luckily, there had been so many other agents and so much chaos that most of them had only noticed Sirius and Regulus in the aftermath, when it was too late to do anything about it.

“We did it.” Remus murmured, letting go and stepping around to gauge Sirius’ reaction. The raven-haired ex-Snake smiled at him, a hint of something warring with the relief on his face.

“We did.” He finally said, eyes flitting from Remus to the action around them. He still looked a little uneasy, after everything. Remus couldn’t blame him – sometimes it took a while for the adrenaline to wear off and for reality to set in. “Doesn’t feel real just yet.”

Remus grinned wolfishly, letting the victorious feeling wash over him. “It’s real.”

“Sirius Black?” One of the other agents inquired, causing the man in question to turn around.

“Yes?”

The agent pulled out a pair of handcuffs, looking very bored of the current situation. “You’re under arrest for the crimes you committed with the Snakes organization. If you could put your hands behind your back-”

Remus stepped forward aggressively, staring the agent down. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

The agent didn’t flinch. “Following orders. Even if he quit the Snakes, he’s still got to answer for what he did during his time there.”

“But he’s helping us – he’s a consultant for our agency. He’s got immunity.” Remus looked between Sirius and the agent, running a hand agitatedly through his hair at the blasé attitude of the agent.

“Take it up with my boss.”

It was all happening so fast. Remus was still reeling from the mission, his brain struggling to keep up with the new situation. The agent started to lead Sirius away when Remus shouted, “Wait!” He hurried to stand in front of Sirius, caramel eyes hard and fierce and determined with an underlying blaze to them as they met silver. He didn’t care if he was making a scene; he didn’t care who was watching. The only thing that mattered was the man standing in front of him, eyes resigned and – unsurprised.

He knew this might happen. And he hadn’t said a word about it. He came on this mission willingly, knowing this was the way it could end.

Remus would have to come back to that.

“I’m going to fix this. Ok?” Remus met his gaze firmly, letting the honesty drip from his words.

The ex-Snake nodded quickly, trustingly. The sight was a little nauseating, because what if there was nothing Remus could do? Sirius was counting on him now; he couldn’t stand the thought of letting him down, not when he was looking at Remus like that – like Remus could fix anything, when Remus knew damn well that he couldn’t. His chest seized up and he held his breath, gritting his teeth resolutely. He’d find a way. He had to.

Sirius was loaded into the back of a car, his brother already cuffed and waiting in the seat beside him – no doubt being charged for the same thing. Their faces were stony masks, tense and unreadable.

From the next car over, Riddle watched with a smile.

#lumosinlove #sweater weather #coast to coast #coops #sirius black #remus lupin #o'knutzy #finn o'hara #logan tremblay #leo knut #clandestine #cw: violence #cw: gun violence #cw: nightmares #cw: anxiety #cw: food #cw: injury

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bitch-biblioklept · 3 years

Text

The Darkling x f!oc

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 <you are here> Part 8

Chapter-7 The Winter Fete

Chapter Summary: With Alina finally harnessing her powers, revenge seems closer than ever to the Darkling. Baghra is afraid of losing the human her son was, and regrets making some decisions.

Word Count: 1.7k

(my gif)

It was done, the sun summoner had finally learnt to harness her powers. Revenge had never seemed closer than now.

The Darkling was ecstatic on finding out that Alina had finally summoned. He might even have done a little happy dance when he was alone, but he would never admit it.

The Grand Palace and the Little Palace had been decorated wildly, untastefully, but he didn’t care much. His time to avenge the assassination of his wife was close, and Zlatan was finally going to pay for his sins. The Darkling even agreed to put up a show for the sake of entertainment.

Alina had started looking better, her face was fuller and less sallow so her similarity to Serephina had almost entirely disappeared. And her blue and gold kefta was a big difference as well. His darling had always adorned a black kefta with silver embroideries on it, and the colors of all the classes; Coporalki, Etherealki, Materialki on the cuff of the sleeves. She had also preferred to wear traditional Suli clothes, even if that made most of the counts mad. She had never shied away from her heritage.

Aleksander had vividly remembered the functions in their wedding with the Suli people, it had been grander than anything he had ever seen since. The Suli were great people too, warm and welcoming to everyone. On finding that they were Grisha, they worshiped them like saints. Sankt Colvin and Sankta Rohini, they were given these lovely names to keep their identity a secret.

He didn’t dwell on the memory too much, but kept it in the back of his mind, in the reachable range to keep up his happy spirits, to remind himself of what Ravka had taken from him after he had worshipped her all his life. Ravka was a drowning woman who dragged his lover with her.

Koroleva Alina, the people chanted on seeing her display of her powers. Koroleva Alina, this is what Serephina had been called when she had caught the attention of the king. The trust between the Grisha and the non-Grisha was fragile and there just because he had won a war for him.

The king had been a recent widower, having lost his queen in the battle between the Ravkan kingdom and the Shu queendom. He was looking for a queen, and that was when he had caught Serephina, who was going by the name Alina at the time, catering to the guests dressed in a servant’s uniform.

“You, you right there,” the king pointed in her direction, and she stilled wondering if she did something wrong. “Come here,”

And keeping the mask of a meek, terrified woman afraid she had done something to offend the king, she walked. Her eyes briefly found his, and she found the grey eyes a bit wide in anticipation.

The noblemen eyed her up and down as she walked in the center of the throne room, a few even making passing remarks on her beauty. Aleksander would have clawed their eyes out right then and there if it weren’t for a gentle gust of wind asking him to calm down.

“You are so beautiful, dear.” The King said. The entire throne room quieted. “What is your name?”

She kept her eyes trained to the marble floor. “Alina, Moi tsar.”

“I am making you one of my personal servants from now on, Alina.” the king declared. “You will be taking care of my son, the prince.”

She looked at him for help, but said, “As you wish, Moi tsar,”

“Good, you are dismissed for now.” The king said. She hurriedly left, but her eyes found his from across the throne room. What had just happened?

They hadn’t guessed that it would be for keeping an eye on her, her behavior, who she met and how she acted. And on seeing perfection, the king had decided that she would be his Queen.

The Darkling gripped his flute of champagne too tightly, hearing a crack and loosened his grip. He downed the contents and left the glass for a servant to take. Serephina said the king had never touched her, and he knew she wouldn’t lie to him. They had even had separate chambers, (he would know, he visited her almost every night,) and her only job was the raise the prince and host the important political guests.

It had hurt him, it had hurt him terribly to see them in public, to see the king holding her nimble hand, kissing her cheek, having her at him arm, when he should have been the one doing all this. The King had loved her, he truly had. But to him she was Alina, and he died knowing that she was Alina.

But for Aleksander she had been Serephina, and she would always be Serephina.

And when the king had taken ill and died around two years later, Koroleva Alina had been given the throne, for the prince was too young to rule. She had raised the prince to become a king, she was raising him to become the king, but he was still too young.

And the years she had ruled had been Ravka’s golden age. The fifteen years she had sat on the throne were the best Ravka had ever seen. The young king took that further after she had faked her demise and it was more than half a century of prosperity and peace for the people.

It was then that he had decided he had to marry her with proper customs and had taken her to the thorn wood monastery in the forest. There the Suli had taken care of them, organized their grand wedding and had made them their Saints.

He was forcing himself out of his memories of her when Ivan had tapped his shoulder to get his attention.

“The trackers have returned.” Ivan said.

“What do they say?” The Darkling asked.

“They found it.”

This was the happiest he had been in fifteen years. His plans would unravel themselves soon enough.

Soon, Moya milaya. Soon. He promised.

Baghra was in her hut, pacing around, and waiting for her maid to return with information. She had never before felt this anxious. Maybe, maybe she should just tell him the truth.

She was just pondering all her options when the maid returned, panting. “They found the stag.” She said.

They couldn’t have, it was supposed to be a myth! No one had ever seen it before, then how did the trackers find it? Were they lying to get away from the Darkling’s wrath? Yes, that should be it. There wasn’t any stag found and the trackers were lying. But who would even dare to lie to the Darkling?

So many things were swarming in her head, and there had to be a way that would stop him. If he found the stag and took control of Alina’s powers, he was done for. Ravka was done for. Her son would be gone, pushed beyond the edge of redemption.

She will have to stop him before her son becomes one of his own abominations. There should be a way.

If Serephina was here, she would have thought fast. What would she have done? Baghra paced around, her fingers dancing against each other as her palms sweat. Sere had known Aleksander better than anyone, better than Baghra knew her own son, and that had been a cause of beef between the two of them, albeit it was mostly from her own side because she wanted to spare her son from the heart break and pain of separation that she had suffered.

What would she do? What would she do?

Nothing would distract him, no. She could pretend to faint, but he would call a healer and everything would be a waste of time. Maybe she should run away. She knew him well enough that he would come looking for her first and then go after the stag.

Serephina wouldn’t need anything to distract him. She would have just smiled in his face and he would melt instantly, Baghra scowled at the thought. She wouldn’t even have to smile… she could ask him for his head and he wouldn’t even blink before agreeing. How did Sere get that kind of trust from Aleksander, that would always be a mystery for her, but Sere would do anything for him too. Hell, she had done a lot things for his gain or to save his life.

She decided to think of something else. She wasn’t Serephina and she couldn’t do anything of what Sere could do. It was wasting a lot of her precious minutes.

Baghra didn’t even have much time to think before the Darkling was at her door, knocking. The maid rushed out on seeing him, bowing her head in greeting, muttered a quick “Moi soverennyi,” and then disappeared behind the woods somewhere. Hopefully she wouldn’t be here to hear the experience firsthand.

“My men have found the stag,” He declared. His slate eyes were dancing with amusement she had never seen on him. His thirst for revenge had pulled him under.

There was only one way to stop him now. Maybe if she had had more time, Baghra would have thought a way to stop him without really telling him the truth. Maybe the truth wouldn’t have been uncovered this way. Maybe, maybe, maybe.

But she was old, and her mind wasn’t as sharp as it had once been. So she told him the truth, the only way that she thought was appropriate in that moment. She knew it would stop him, change his sense of reality. He might even attack her for lying to him. But it would save him from falling over the edge. He will still be human.

Baghra knew she was going to regret it, that one decision had been the worst she had ever made in her life, but that had seemed like the good way back then. She hadn’t considered that he would drown himself in this thirst for a bloody revenge.

“Serephina is alive,” Baghra’s mouth told the truth before her mind could think of anything else.

*sorry for the cliffhanger there 🤓*

#shadow and bone #the darkling #aleksander morozova #general kirigan #ben barnes #general kirigan imagine #shadow and bone imagine #the darkling imagine #the darkling x f!oc #the darkling x reader

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