Krishna And Rukmini For The Compass Rose Meme. Thanks.😄

This art is SO........

Artist unknown, dm if you know them

"Remember how long you've been putting this off, how many extensions the gods gave you, and you didn't use them. At some point you have to recognize what world it is that you belong to; what power rules it and from what source you spring; that there is a limit to the time assigned you, and if you don't use it to free yourself it will be gone and will never return."

Marcus Aurelius - Meditations, Book 2, 4.

Perfection: woman in suit.

hindu mythology meme: princess rukmini

 She loved the Lord. She loved Him due to the letters she exchanged with Him, the mighty whispers she heard about His greatness, the overwhelming loyalty she gave to Him. So, she loved the Lord and He loved her. 

Horner Ancient Woodland

photographed by Freddie Ardley - instagram

Vesper Confesses AU

They spent the day in the sunshine on the deck of the yacht, but now they’re tucked safe below, resting together in the cozy, lamp-lit bunk-space. They’ve been trading little secrets back and forth, both of them too sun-drowsed to be bothered with sex. He knows about her first kiss and her mother’s alcoholism. She knows about his parents’ deaths, that girl at Eton, and his most embarrassing moment during Six training.  

It’s her turn to go, and she’s been quiet for a long while, so long he’s not sure they’re playing the game anymore. Finally she sits up, her back a tense line against the headboard, and says, “James.” Her mouth trembles. “I need to tell you something.” 

James swallows. “You don’t have to,” he says carefully, hearing the fear and the dull resignation in Vesper’s voice. If only nothing could spoil their happiness; if only Vesper could pretend that all was well again. 

But Vesper is brave, sensible, and ruthless. “I don’t have to say anything,” she agrees. “In fact, I planned not to. But I find that I need to. And I need you to promise that you won’t interrupt. You won’t say a word, not until I’m finished. Understood?” 

“Completely,” James says, his heart sinking into his stomach. What will he hear?  

Mostly, however, he’s relieved. They’ll finally have it out, this thing that’s had Vesper twitching at shadows, pasting on a smile like he can’t see that something’s wrong. 

He’s played pretend in his relationships for all his life, and Vesper is the first person to make him feel like honesty could be enough. 

Please, let it be enough. 

***

“It was a trick,” Bond says afterward, numb. What will he do? But first, she has to know– “They didn’t really have him. Yusef. You know that, right?” 

For the first time since she started speaking, Vesper turns to him. “No, I heard him!” she says, anger flashing in her eyes. “They played me his–you don’t want to know the things I heard him going through!” 

How can he tell her? 

But Vesper is brave, ruthless, and sensible. She needs to know. 

And it’s his turn now, anyway. 

“One of the first missions they send potential double-ohs on is a seduction mission,” Bond says dully. “It’s intentionally long-term; could last up to a year if you’re unlucky. Meant to be a soft introduction to undercover fieldwork. And the goal is this: to make someone in a critical position fall in love with you. To begin a strong relationship with that person. And then to convince that person that you’ve been kidnapped and will only be kept safe in exchange for valuable information, sabotage, and favors.”  

Vesper’s hand comes up to her mouth. A high-pitched sound stays trapped in her throat. “You–” 

“I succeeded,” Bond says, closing his eyes. “Like he did. I’m sure of it. What you said, it’s right out of the training manual. Even the necklace–we’re told to give the target a token of physical affection, something they can wear every day, so they never forget who they’re tied to.” He hesitates. “I gave mine a ring.”   

***

He spends the rest of the night sitting on the cold wooden deck outside, going over all of it in his mind. What she’s done. What he’s done. What they’ve been through. 

Can he love a spy? 

When it’s put like that, he laughs a bitter laugh. Of course he can. To do otherwise would be hypocritical, wouldn’t it? And he does. When he puts the fury and hurt aside, he admires her all the more. If she hadn’t said anything, she would have succeeded. He’s sure of it.   

A scared woman in a trap, and she would have out-maneuvered him in order to save him, and let the steel jaws close in on herself.

Poor bitch. Poor, brilliant bitch. 

*** 

He makes scrambled eggs the next morning. It helps him think. 

Vesper, silent, glances up at him in between writing in a journal. 

“If you could do anything,” Bond asks, serving the plates up, “what would it be? Your ideal future.” 

Vesper eyes him closely, her pen unmoving on her page, before answering. “I would want the two of us to be doing good work and to be happy. Either together, or separately. And you?”  

James takes a deep breath. “It seems to me we have two concerns,” he says. “Our own safety, and our country’s. We could go to M and ask for her protection. She would be better able to justify it to her superiors if we brought along a bargaining chip–the contact who was going to meet you in Venice. Once we get him, we can begin eliminating the rest of his organization–anyone who would know enough to want to kill you. And after that…after that, we’ll be free to do anything. Go anywhere.” 

Free like he thought they were yesterday, before…before everything. He’s still got the draft of his resignation letter saved in a file. Maybe someday he’ll get to pull it out again.  

Vesper taps her pen against the side of her cheek, considering. “You’re never giving me a ring,” she says finally. “Or a necklace. In fact, no jewelry. And you’re to keep your hair short so I can never have a lock of it.” 

James grimaces. The hair thing had been in the handbook too. His own hair has always been too short for it, thank fuck. “I can do that,” he says. “And in return, you’ll tell me whenever you’re planning something suicidal and self-sacrificing again. The only lamb that needs skewered here is me, remember?” 

For the first time in hours, Vesper’s lips quirk up into a shadow of their usual smugness. “You may have a point.” 

“So, we’re doing this?” James asks. 

“These are dangerous people,” Vesper says. It’s not quite an objection. 

James reaches for her hand across the table. “So are we,” he says, looking into her eyes.  

She squeezes his hand. “All right,” she says. “That’s it, then. We’re going to capture Mr. White and take my life back.” Her mouth sets with determination. “And I know just how to do it.” She taps the journal. “Starting with this.” 

Of course she’s got a plan. James smiles. She might be a bitch, but she’s James’s brilliant, brave, ruthless, sensible bitch, and he wouldn’t have her any other way.