#thanks again! I hope you don't mind my publishing this to hold onto for a rainy day.

[royal-ruin]

f1 fanfic recs (part __) max / charles

other f1 fic rec lists here f1 fic rec masterlist here personal favorites are starred, by the way. everything is complete unless stated otherwise.

i feel obligated to note that i don't read very much lestappen unfortunately so this list won't be very long or very thorough. i know another creator on tumblr @ jennarations published a very long one somewhat recently (?).

do i have to chart the constellations in his eyes? by adoreddaisies (~1k)

[He was tired. Charles was oh-so-tired. All he really wanted to just take a nap. Before he could close his eyes, he felt strangely familiar fingers tugging at his helmet strap. He opened his eyes – he didn't realise he had closed them – and found blue eyes staring back at him.

Max.]

The rest is still unwritten by Snooks10 (~1k)

[Max ran, like his husbands life depended on it.

Weaving his way around the paddock, murmurs of a black flag and unresponsive boring through the crowds. All he could do was get to Charles.]

OR Charles is in surgery and Max is terrified.

I couldn't do it without you by freed0m98 (~4k)

The one where Max and Charles have been married for two years now, and everyone finds out when Charles has an accident.

it was the end of a decade, but the start of an age by charlotte_2005 (~6k)

[The video is four minutes and eighteen seconds long. Max remembers exactly how it goes: the images were seared onto his memory long before he had to deal with each frame being ‘conclusively analysed’ by idiots on the internet.]

Max and Charles are outed in the worst way possible.

*Viva la Miami by Fabby (~8k)

Max raced all over the world and was used to different climates. But there was something about Miami’s sticky, muggy, make-your-phone-screen-fog-up kind of scorching heat that made him feel fucking crazy.

It made him want to strip naked and jump in the bright blue water surrounding his hotel.

It made him want to fuck.

OR: Max and Charles hook up for the first time, and it's very different than what Max had pictured.

basically pure smut, enjoy.

Deserving by WeaglesAndBrobeans (~16k)

Together for two years now, can Charles and Max weather the 2021 season together?

Azerbaijan Abnegation by ProngsfootxJily (~17k)

[Charles stares at him intently, “Last time was an anomaly.”

Not for the first time, Max recalls the awkward swell of humiliation after Charles had told him to stop. The hairs on the back of his neck prickle at the memory of everything that followed, “Yeah, that better not happen again.”]

After Monaco, Max thought he’d made up his mind about Charles, and their little arrangement.

They’re in Azerbaijan and Charles is everywhere: in his head, in his messages, in his hotel room…

Will Max be able to hold onto his resolve, or will his attempts at self-denial only prolong the inevitable?

i'm not gonna lie, i don't remember reading this one at all, but it was in my bookmarks so i hope i knew what i was doing.

*every other sunday by Anney (~34k)

[The grainy pictures are pieced together like a crude comic strip, sketching a poorly thought-out narrative arc that somehow made it onto the front page of every sleazy newspaper. 

EXPOSED!: The secret gay double-life of F1 driver Max Verstappen]

Max navigates the aftermath of being outed in the press, and Charles is always there.

*I'll Be Right Beside You by Fabby (~50k)

[Max stared at Charles’ closed eyes and how they twitched in his sleep. Objectively, Max knew that Charles was probably the most beautiful man he had ever seen. But... this was Charles.

Charles Leclerc. 

Big, cry-baby Charles. 

Sauber #2 driver Charles. 

When did he decide that Charles The Driver would become Charles The Boyfriend? 

He wishes he could remember. ]

OR: The self-indulgent Amnesia AU that nobody asked for. This is my love story to Charles Leclerc, thank you for coming along. Warning: this fic may break you.

*If I Could Call You Half Mine by amarynas (~64k)

[Pierre Gasly, 29, and Charles Leclerc, 27, have announced their engagement this morning in a heartfelt Instagram post.  Gasly stated he couldn’t be happier and can’t wait to spend his future with the love of his life by his side.  Leclerc, who is currently the defending champion for his team Red Bull Racing and on a good path to win his third championship title in this 2025 season, said that he is blessed to get to marry his best friend.  The two Formula 1 drivers were the second couple to ever openly come out and disclose their relationship to the public three years ago, after already dating in secret for two years. This had happened just six months after fellow F1 drivers Max Verstappen, 27, and Daniel Ricciardo, 36, had openly disclosed their relationship. Now the public can’t help but wonder: When will those two lovebirds announce their engagement?]

Max and Charles found a place to fit their affair into their lives, where it sits comfortably between secret hotel room meetups and not-so accidental touches in the paddock. But everything changes when Pierre asks Charles to marry him, and Charles says yes.

warning: lestappen have an affair and are cheating on pierre and daniel respectively. i love this fic even though i don't love the cheating. i had a ton of mixed feelings while reading this and i actually loved that. highly recommend reading it. can't listen to "moth to a flame" the same anymore.

[matan4il]

Hello, am I crazy or do the majority of news sites report mostly on what the Hammas claims, what Egypt claims, what Lebanon claims, what Iran claims and Israeli voices don't get shared nearly as much? Am I just biased or does it feel to anyone else like even the 'reputable' sources from countries that are officially 'pro-Israel' share mostly one-sided stories? I feel very disillusioned and shocked at the reactions of people on the internet. People who call themselves tolerant, liberal, human rights activists... I've lost respect for many. I truly wonder how many of them even knew anything about Israel before Hammas attacked. Sorry for pushing my feelings onto you. I hope you are as well as you can be.

Hi Nonnie! Thank you for the ask.

You're not crazy. It's partly because Hamas, as a terrorist organization, is not accountable to anyone, it doesn't have to tell the truth. Neither do Egypt, Lebanon or Iran. They can say whatever they want to, they can make any claim, and if it turns out to be untrue, no one will hold that over their heads.

And these leaders KNOW that the first report people will hear is the one that's most likely to be set in their minds.

If there's a correction a few hours later, people might hear it, or they might not. Either way, the dramatic impression and emotional impact of the initial report are likely to last if I they do hear the correction.

Take the claim about the hospital explosion, for example. Hamas right away said it was Israel's fault. (BTW, Hamas also immediately said Gaza had 500 dead. From experience on Oct 7, it took HOURS to confirm 100 dead. There's no way that within a few minutes, Hamas could accurately report 500 dead. The number could be very high, even hundreds of people, even 500 or more! I'm just saying there's no way Hamas could reliably know that within the period of time it published that number) Hamas knows it would take Israel hours to check this. In the meantime, for several hours, this false, demonizing report circulates online, on every news channel and so on. Even if a few hours later, Israel has proof that it's Palestinian terrorists killing their own, will anyone hold Hamas accountable? Is anyone going to punish it in any way? If they say it's Israel immediately, without even checking, they only stand to gain condemnation and hostility towards Israel, even if it's a total lie.

Why do news channels collaborate with that? Because they're running a business. And if there's an emotionally loaded headline that will get them rating, they will run it. And if there's a headline like that which their competitors will run right away, then instead of waiting for confirmation from a more reliable source, they will run it in order to not get left behind. When it turns out to be false, at the end of the day, they can just run a correction, and that's enough. That's considered doing their journalistic duties. Who cares that the damage to Israel has already been done?

So yeah, it's a good idea to be careful, and wait for confirmation when the only source for a certain anti-Israel story is an antisemitic terrorism organization, or an anti-Israeli regime.

And in conclusion, I think this is a really good point to tell apart people who are actually pro-Palestinian from those who are just anti-Israel. The pro-Palestinians will call PIJ out for killing its own people.

Thank you again for the kind words, Nonnie! I'm as safe as anyone in Israel can be right now. I hope you and yours are good! xoxox

(for all of my updates and ask replies regarding Israel, click here)

[madneywedding]

tease tidbit tuesday

thank you to @shitouttabuck @alliaskisthepossibilityoflove @daffi-990 @jeeyuns @wildlife4life @cal-daisies-and-briars @eddiebabygirldiaz @fortheloveofbuddie for tagging me over the past week :)

this is a snippet from my new wip: summer sun!! this is something i started as a writing exercise after i hit a bit of a slump with my other WIPs. my goal was to write one scene, and only one scene from a story that i wanted to put to paper. the full story i had in mind was a dual POV look into eddie's PTSD slash recovery arc with a slight, messy twist on buddie's relationship, but but i don't think i will ever write it in full because it's too much for my current ability as a writer.

still, i feel like the scene that inspired the whole thing deserves to see the light of day, and so i'm probably going to publish this as a one-shot sometime within the next week or two. it's already at 3.5k, and i think that the full fic will be around 6k once it's done :)

anyway!! here's your tidbit:

“Eddie. Listen to me. It won’t be like this forever, okay?” Buck repeats, tilting Eddie's chin up and looking him right in the eye.  He pours every ounce of sincerity he possesses into his words in the hope that Eddie understands. Understands that even if he can’t believe in much right now, he can still trust this — trust him. “I promise, Eddie. I promise. And until that happens, I’ll be here.”  He leans forward, curling his fingers around Eddie’s hand again. Eddie holds onto him this time, and doesn't stop Buck when his thumb settles comfortably above Eddie’s pulse point. “See? You’re alive. Do you feel that? You haven’t disappeared, Eddie. You’re right here. And I’m right here next to you.”   Eddie shuts his eyes, and a few tears spill over. “Thank you,” he whispers. “Hey now,” Buck says, tapping him on the hand. They’re close enough now that their shoulders brush, and Buck gently bumps them together, letting a hint of a smile slip back into his voice. “Come on, Eddie. You know that you never have to thank me.”  Eddie squints at him through watery eyes, and Buck can already hear the expected soft, cheeky, “I know,” from him, punctuated with his signature playful eyeroll, but instead— Something in Eddie's face changes. Instead, he leans forward, and he— 

tagging @housewifebuck @captain-hen @antibyler @loserdiaz @buckleyseddie and anyone else who wants to do it :)

[startrekfangirl2233-writes]

Kiss 14 with Bob!

Hi! Thanks for requesting Kiss #14 ... casually with Bob. This one ended up being really fluffy and cute! I hope you love it!

A Casual Kiss

You've known the Dagger Squad for a while. In the year and a half since they became a permanent squadron, they've been in and out of the small cafe and bookstore you opened in town. They all swear you make the best coffee, but of all of them, you think you believe Bob the most.

He's the only member of the squad whom you've had come in for anything other than the coffee. What can you say? You have a fondness for well read men. Bob's handsome in a quiet, steady way. He's not all flash like Hangman or oozing charm like Coyote, Payback or Rooster. He's a dependable sort of handsome, a man who would stick with you through thick and thin.

You've been waiting and waiting for him to make a move. You've dropped so many hints, from ridiculous discounts on the books he buys to free coffee whenever he stops by. But he never does a thing. It looks like if you want something to be done, you're going to have to do it yourself.

So when Natasha invites you to go clubbing with the squad, you say yes and show up dressed to the nines. The guys all give you once overs and compliments, but Bob just blushes red and seems to avoid you. As the group parties itself from bar to club and back to a bar again, you notice how Bob seems to shrink into himself, rather like he wants to be anywhere but here.

You don't drink much either and exhaustion is quickly overshadowing your fun mood.

"Hey, Bob." You practically have to scream the words into his ear. "I'm beat. Tash was my ride home but I don't think she's in a state to get me anywhere safely. Would you mind?"

He's helping you out of the chair with a soft nod, holding your hand tight as he leads you out of the bar. From the lascivious look you get from Hangman as the two of you pass by, you're sure he thinks Bob is taking you home for an entirely different reason.

You feel like you can finally breathe when the two of you step outside. Bob's hand is rough, big and deliciously warm around your own as he leads you to his truck in the parking lot and opens the passenger door.

"C'mon, let's get you home." In that moment, as his words hang in the night air between you, you peck his cheek softly. He freezes, like you've just shocked him.

"What was that for?" He sounds awed that you would ever want to kiss him.

"A thank you, for driving me home." Your words are muffled by a yawn you hide into the back of your hand as you settle into the passenger seat.

"You don't have to do that." His blush is crimson in the low light.

"Do what? Thank you or kiss you?" Your exhaustion is slurring your words. At a stoplight, you watch the muscles of his face expand and contract, sleepily noting how he frowns, just a little as he thinks.

"Both." He's chewing on his bottom lip as the light changes and he places his foot on the accelerator again.

"Hate to break it to you, Bob, but I'd kiss you on a lot more places than your cheek if you let me." He blinks, before pulling the car onto the shoulder.

"Then go out with me?" You can barely see his face, but you're nodding just as easily as you'd kissed his cheek earlier.

When you wake up the next morning, there's water and painkillers on your bedside table, half-there memories floating through your mind, and a note saying, "Dinner tonight. 6 PM. Thanks for giving me a chance. Bob"

Want to request a Kiss and a pair for me to write? Guidelines are here.

Want to see other Kisses I've written? Here's the full Masterlist.

I DO NOT CONSENT TO HAVE MY WORK POSTED, TRANSLATED, OR PUBLISHED ON ANY SITES OTHER THAN HERE OR ON AO3 BY ME. IF YOU SEE MY WORKS ANYWHERE OTHER THAN HERE OR AO3, THEN THEY HAVE BEEN POSTED WITHOUT MY PERMISSION AND I WILL BE WORKING TO TAKE THEM DOWN.

[solarsavoy]

WIP Wednesday, Patreon

I know it's not a fanfic, but it is a work in progress. I'm trying to get it set up so that anyone who wants to support my work as an artist and writer can do so. I'm very fortunate to have the job I have now, but it is temporary. It could end at any time, and in order to get the same amount of income again, I'd have to find a full time job and pick up more hours at my restaurant job to compensate. This will greatly cut into the amount of time I have now for doing the things I love, telling stories through art and writing.

And if I don't start now, I won't be able to as easily later.

So here it is.

I'm trying to form a habit of posting all my sketches and linework WIPS for my art onto Patreon. I currently only have one tier and for now, everything will be available under that tier until I get a little more organized with things. I plan on keeping tier one at 1 USD and building off that with additional tiers later.

I'm planning on offering early access to pictures and someday, access to my original writings such as Gerit and Krystar. Gerit is currently on hold and being posted on AO3, but it's been on hold for so long that I may just post the entire writing onto Patreon before the pictures are finished.

I've been putting off working on my book a while now and part of the reason is because I'm wary of publishing through Amazon by myself this time. I could find a publisher, but I've heard that it's highly unlikely and nearly impossible to have control over my own covers. I wouldn't mind finding someone with more knowledge about making covers, but the thing is, the covers are part of the story in the case of the Fragment series for Krystar. As time changes, so will the covers, and if I don't have control over my covers, I can't do that, so I'm doing it alone. For now.

I do plan on publishing again, but until it's up on Amazon or some other platforms, I wanted to make it available to anyone else interested in the meantime until I work it all out.

I'm also planning on opening up for commissions sometime soon and Patrons will be able to get a discount on them. Pricing will vary depending on what's requested, but I'm thinking along the lines of 30 USD as a base and then the price will increase depending on the level of detail a person wants in the background, amount of subjects, etc. Patrons will get a 10 USD discount if they are a supporting Patron.

I feel like I'm so small right now as a content creator, but I'm really hoping to be able to build enough of a living off it so I can keep doing it. Realistically, I don't know if I'll ever make enough to live off my writing and art alone, but it's a dream, you know? And this is where it starts.

Even if I make more tiers and start limiting what's available to tier 1, I won't ever get rid of it because like me, I'm sure some can only afford so much. But support takes all kinds of forms. If all you have is a dollar (or your country's equivalent), then it helps. If all you can do is reblog, that helps. If my work inspires you or you simply enjoy it enough to tell a friend, that helps. And I appreciate anything you're willing to do to support me.

I'll let you know when I open up for commissions, but that's it for WIP Wednesday. My Patreon account is already open and up, but I'm working on a new kind of banner for the page. There's a link on my pinned post. I'll add it here when I get home. My internet capabilities are really limited while I'm at work, which is where I am now. 😅

Edit: Link to Patreon.

Thanks for reading.

[casspurrjoybell-26]

Made of Steele - Chapter 30

*Warning: Adult Content*

With everything prepared for tonight, there was just one last thing I needed to do, before my family and Kit arrived.

Laurent had sent me a text an hour ago asking to meet me and given how I ended things, I owed him that much.

With a knock on the door, I knew it had to be him, as I wasn't expecting anyone else.

Once I go over to open the door to see who it was, I look at Laurent and without a word, I open the door wide and step aside and watch as he comes inside.

Shutting the door behind him, I don't miss the way he looked at me, with an expression I've seen only once.

The day I yelled at him and left France and him behind.

"Thank you mon... Jamie, for meeting with me," he said, as he smiled at me and then checked out what I was wearing from head to toe.

"You look handsome. I take it you have plans?"

"Yes," I spoke quietly. "With my family."

"And... Kit."

I watched as his smile sunk at the mention of Kit and I didn't need to be a genius to realize how fucked up this situation was.

"I'm sorry," I said, rubbing the back of my neck as he turned his head away from me. There was silence, then Laurent turned to me and smiled sadly, with a shake of his head.

"No... I am sorry, I thought all this with your ex was behind you, and it really was a beautiful story Jamie," he said, as he went to stand inches in front of me.

"I talked to my editor in chief and she has agreed to take it down, of course for my undying loyalty," he smiled. "I checked on my way over, it's gone."

I sigh and take a step back, feeling a weight off my shoulders as the words 'it's gone' leave his mouth.

A month ago I had completely lost my mind knowing that what I was for myself was now in the hands of a publisher, no other person than the guy I was seeing.

It broke me more ways than one, the betrayal was deep and I just couldn't look at Laurent the same way anymore.

I hated what he did but most of all... I hated that I still had feelings for Kit.

"Does he know how much you love him?" Laurent asked, filling in the silence.

I looked at him then shook my head, an uneasy sinking feeling in my stomach at the mention of 'love'.

Kit only made me feel like this, this anxiety I feel, this emotion I hated with passion, yet craved when during those two years apart.

Love... hah, it was the reason I feel so messed up these days.

"Not yet," I swallowed hard, feeling that sensation intensify. "I'm going to tell him tonight. I know you don't want to hear this but it's always been him... I'm sorry Laurent," I said sincerity, looking at Laurent in his eyes.

I had half expected him to whack me, scream at me at least but instead he steps forward until he has his arms wrapped around me, surprising me completely.

"I wish you luck Jamie, truly I do," he whispers gently as he squeezes me before letting go and standing back. "He's a lucky guy, I hope he realizes that... and..." he pauses, his eyes searching mine as a smile raises to his lips. "I really did love you, before I screwed this up but I always knew you didn't love me and I regret what I did and I just hope... we remain friends at least."

A month ago I couldn't look at him... now when I look at him I see just how much he put up with my shit, more than anyone else ever has and for that, I really did regret treating him how I did.

I said a lot of shit, especially when he did what he did.

That was then and now I realize that nothing good comes from holding onto grudges, I have Kit to thank for that.

"Just don't do it again," I joke lightly, holding my hand out. "Friends?"

He smiled and then shook my hand, clasping his in mine he nodded his head, whilst tears started to form in the corner of his eyes.

"S"Sorry, Jamie. I'm just so sorry for what I did," he rubbed his face, before sighing than smiling as he looked at me, a pained, yet confident smile. "I shall get going, I have a flight to catch and I really can't take another day off or Sheri will be lost without me," he laughed, as I smiled and watched as he walked to the front door.

"You really do look great Jamie and if this Kit does not see you for how I see you..." he paused. "There is always Paris."

There were no words as I watched him open the door and leave behind it, without looking back at me, I watched as the door slowly closed until it clicked.

I was even more sure now of what I needed to do tonight and even though I was nervous to the point of feeling like I needed to throw up, I wasn't going to back out.

Stepping away from the door, I walk further into the studio and notice a piece of paper folded up in the spot where Laurent once stood and as I bend down to pick it up, once I unfold it, I freeze.

'What was this doing here?'

The letter I was suppose to send to Kit, was now in my hands.

Laurent.

Did he bring it here to persuade me to show it to Kit?

He probably wasn't expecting me to say what I said and then he just left this here as a reminder, nothing else makes sense.

I sigh and look at the letter for the first time since I wrote this... I smile and then crunch the paper up in my hands.

Kit was now here,and everything on this piece of paper I can now finally say to his face.

I can tell him how exactly his leaving had made me feel and how badly I wanted to forgive him for leaving.

I was young, fuck, I still am young but now I see that despite that pain and the hate I felt, I could never hate Kit.

The first time I met him, I had always thought of him differently and before I knew it, I realized something important.

I had always liked Kit, yet I didn't want to admit it because... I was afraid.

To the one who ran

You came into my world as messy as you left it and for that betrayal, I couldn't forget it.

Even though you're gone now and I'm still here, I still wait for you, your voice and your touch to grace my ear.

Right now I'm sitting, thinking of you here, telling me that everything will be okay and that you are near.

Nevermind, fuck you, I hate you, so how can I drop it?

When you're not here, how can I stop it?

This feeling, this pain that you left in your wake.

Come back, come here, just say the words, I'll believe anything you say as long as you say...

'I'm sorry, I love you, I'm coming for you.'

You were the one who ran and I didn't forget it, so make it up to me and I'll just forget it because...

'I love you, I miss you, I need you here too.'

To the one that ran, you know who I am and if I'm right about this and the touch we shared, I'm not going anywhere, so please come back and let's talk about it.

I'm here right now, no doubt about it, waiting, yearning, for you to come, so what are you waiting for?

To Kit,

I don't know why I wrote this and now that I look and it on paper, I feel like an idiot. If one day I do send this to you, I just want you to know I'm sorry for the shit I said. I don't hate you for leaving, I only can't believe you left without saying bye to me or giving me a reason for not coming back, I fucking hated you for the longest time but now I'm slowly accepting you had your reasons.

Life has changed since you left, I didn't go to college, I couldn't and it's not your fault, I just needed time away from it all and this place, it became toxic and because of that, I need to go away. Everywhere I go, I see you and in the past I'd probably call you a dick for haunting my mind but now I see that it's because I was too blind to tell you how I really felt. And how bad I took you leaving.

I'm going to travel for a while, you won't be able to reach me at home, so if you're ever in the states... call me and we'll talk. I'm thinking of France or Italy... I haven't made up my mind yet, my Spanish is shit but my French... Well, it's not the worst. I'm going to pursue art. I know it's clique and a one in a million chance but it's something that I've always wanted, I felt at ease drawing things on paper, making them come alive with.

I never told you but I've drawn you more than once, even before we spoke. I was too embarrassed to show you or admit it out loud but since you're not here, I'm free from that teasing, right?

Anyways, what I'm trying to say is, forget it, it's in the past. Hope you are well... and if things change, hit me up, I didn't change my number. I'll be waiting for your call.

Jamie.

[m0r1bund]

I don't know if this is anything you've ever been told but for some reason looking at your art makes me think/ feels like a visual feel of music from the band "Lord Huron"? (Especially the lonesome dreams / Strange trails albums) I dont know but everytime I listen to the music I think of your work!

This is maybe one of myfavourite things I've been told in recent memory, and most of my memory? Music informs my work very intimately and it is alwayshumbling when somebody makes a connection between my work and that ofsomebody who deals with similar themes... But I sat down to theLonesome Dreams album and was kind of floored by how much these guysget it, haha! That they approach death and other endings withcompassion and warmth really speaks to me. There is this sort ofnatural sense of wonder with the world (and, of course, The West) andthe way they write it is as much a conversation as it is almosthymnal. It all makes me very happy to have that even tangentially connected to my work, because they are important themes to me.

Ends of the Earth, Time to Run,Brother, and Ghost on the Shore stand out to me, but I made immediateconnections with all of the songs in the album, which is rare forme... Thank you so much for sharing this, I hope that this responseisn't overwhelming. I really appreciate this!

[harksness]

No Longer Yours

Agatha Harkness x Reader

Masterlist × Chapter Two

A/N: So it's been awhile since I've published a fic. I figured what better way to start up my blog again then with Kathryn Hahn? It started with Doc Ock, and now we're starting up again with Agatha Harkness. If people like this fic, maybe I'll rewrite and expand it to be a multichapter fic. What do you lovely people think? Tell me if you’d be interested pls ^_^

Word Count: 3,754. Ya’ll get a long, juicy one.

Summary: You thought you had a perfect little life here in Westview. You have a lovely house, a gorgeous wife. What more could you ask for? But when migraines start to torment you whenever you try to remember a life prior to all of this, you notice something is off. You especially start to notice how Agatha holds you a little too tightly, almost as if she's desperately trying to hold onto something that's no longer hers.

Warnings: Minor blood, nothing graphic. Mind Control?

Love for your wife consumed you. From the top of your head to the tips of your toes, all you felt was love for your Agatha.

When your migraines had started, she had insisted that you quit your job so she could take care of you. You obliged, of course… Why wouldn't you? Being doted on all day, every day by your stunning wife is everything you could ever want. Agatha always had plenty of errands to run so when she was gone you were cleaning, but quickly you ran out of places to clean and laundry to fold and you got bored. You miss working. You miss just being able to go anywhere outside of your home. 

But you had promised your wife that you would stay home until you got better. 

Speaking of your lovely Agatha- she should be home soon, you noticed as you glanced at the time. 

You stirred the noodles that were boiling then went back to cutting the vegetables. Agatha has been taking such great care of you, you decided to show your appreciation by surprising her with dinner, even though you’re certain she wouldn’t approve of you using knives and boiling water. She is always so scared you’re going to accidentally hurt yourself.

Agatha told you that you had cooked this for your first date. You smiled as you tried to remember that night.. But you can't. No matter how hard you think, you can't remember a single thing. You don't remember your first date… Why don't you remember?

You paused as you thought, searching your memories. You remember… Your first night in Westview. You and her had made this dinner together as she told you the story… You think that you remember remembering it then. Why can't you now?

Maybe it's the migraines messing with your memory. Maybe it’s the meds. Maybe this problem that you're having is worse than you had originally thought.

The front door opens and softly clicks shut. You can hear the sound of rustling as Agatha hangs up her coat, then the sound of her heels gently tapping against the wooden floor. That snaps you out of your trance. What had you been focusing so hard on again? It's bothering you that you don't remember. But oh well. That's not important right now.

Agatha is what's important.

"I'm in the kitchen, love!"

You call out as you turn to stir the noodles once more, scolding yourself for not starting dinner early enough. 

"What’s this?"

Agatha asks as she enters the kitchen, a brow raised curiously at you. You smile and gesture to show off everything you had worked so hard on.

"Ta da.. I wanted to thank you, surprise you by making you dinner… But apparently I hadn't started cooking early enough."

A small frown graces your lips. You're rather upset with yourself, you were really hoping to surprise her with a fully cooked dinner, ready at the table. You even had a dress picked out that you always wore on date nights. You haven't been able to find an excuse to put it on lately since it was a little on the fancier side, but Agatha loves you in that dress. The first time she saw you in it, she couldn't keep her hands off of you. You miss driving her crazy like that. 

You meet her gaze and a sweet smile is spread across her painted lips. She is always so beautiful, and seeing that dreamy smile and those lovestruck eyes makes your heart feel like it’s going to pop right out of your chest. You are the definition of lovesick. And every time you see that stunning smile of hers, you feel yourself falling deeper and deeper in love with her. She always drives you absolutely crazy.

"Oh, love… You didn't have to do all of this for me."

The way she looks at you makes your heart soar. She looks at you as if you're the only thing that matters in the world, her eyes gleaming and so full of love. You smile back at her, feeling your heart swell. 

"I know, but I want to do something to show you how much I love you. You’ve been taking such good care of me, Agatha, and I need to do something in return. Something special for you."

You take hold of her hands, running your thumbs over her knuckles and her grin widens. Agatha is always so cold- you try and warm up her hands, continuing to rub your thumb over her chilly skin. She rests her forehead against yours and sighs. She squeezes your hands in return, holding onto you tightly. As if you’d float away if she let go.

"I don't know what I'd do without you… I'm so lucky to have found you, my dear…"

Agatha lean's forward and presses her lips against yours. You smile against her ruby red lips and lean into the kiss. All you ever want to do is kiss her, she's intoxicating. Everything about her is intoxicating..

Your skin feels electric wherever she touches, especially as her hands slide around your waist. Butterflies flutter in your stomach. After all this time, she still gives you butterflies. The way she kisses you so desperately, like she will die if she stops. 

The way she clutches you, holding you tight, flushed against her own body, as if it’ll be the last time she ever gets to feel you.. It drives you mad. All you can do is desperately try to reciprocate as you run your hands up her shoulders, trailing them up her neck and eventually you tangle your fingers in her hair. You feel blissed out, like you're on cloud nine. But it’s easy to ground yourself when she’s your center of gravity.

And sadly, she pulls away. Trying to catch up with her breath, she rests her forehead against your own and smiles brightly at you. You smile in return, giving her reassurance that you’re still here. You’re alive, you’re okay and you’re not going anywhere.

"Wow, Agatha… I love it when you get like that."

You hum happily, wrapping your arms around her neck. Then you notice the look in her eye, you see it often. That look of worry. 

"I'm right here, love. I'll always be right here."

You whisper to her, and she smiles softly in return.

"I know, but I don't know what I'd do if anything ever happened to you. I can't lose you."

Agatha says softly, concern lacing her voice. It makes your heart flutter. She brings a hand to your cheek, gently running her fingers over the soft skin as she tucks a stray lock behind your ear.

"You won't lose me, Agatha… I'm right here, I'm okay. I'm yours."

She smiles at you softly, a strange look in her eyes that you can't quite read. She leans forward and leaves a lingering kiss on your lips.

"I know.. You're all mine."

You are desperate to follow her lips, but instead, you lean back a bit and smile reassuringly. She has been terrified of something bad happening to you ever since you started getting your migraines. 

"Let me help with dinner."

She insists, but you shake your head and give her hand a reassuring squeeze.

"You can supervise.. Please, Agatha. Let me do this for you."

You plead, taking both of her hands in your own once again. You hold them tightly and give her the most desperate look you can muster. She studies you a moment more, a stern look on her features before she sighs and nods.

"Fine. Just.. Be careful, okay?

You cheer happily before leaving one last kiss on her cheek. You return to the cutting board and pick up the knife, ignoring the still rising heat on your cheeks and the way your skin tingles in the aftermath of her touch. You start to hum to yourself, making up the tune as you go.

Agatha sighs dramatically, but you can hear the smile in her sigh. She leans against the counter next to you, sweeping her curled hair behind her ear. 

"Oh, darling… You're making the dinner you made us on our first date?"

You smiled- then remembered what was bothering you before your wife came home. Why can't you remember your first date six years ago? Surely you should remember something as important as that… Something as important as the moment you and Agatha had started your life together.

"You really know how to steal a girl's heart, huh? I'm so lucky to have been able to steal yours in return."

Agatha says in a dreamy voice as she comes up behind you, snaking her arms around your waist, she rests her chin on your shoulder. You feel like you're in heaven when her fingers start to softly draw patterns on your belly. Your lips are starting to hurt from smiling as you turn your head towards her.

Why can’t you remember?

The harder you think, you realize you don’t remember more than you thought. Meeting Agatha, your parents, anything before Westview. It’s driving you mad. This problem is more than just the migraines. You may not remember meeting Agatha, but you feel as if you’ve known her a very long time. Why can’t you remember anything?

"My sweet girl.. You're all mine.."

She whispers into your neck as she starts to pepper soft kisses. The butterflies in your chest are fluttering, going crazier, almost as if they're begging to be let out. Your smile hurts. Just then you realize the butterflies is a feeling of uneasiness eating away at you. Why can't you remember?

"I'll make sure to keep you safe."

A searing pain shoots through your brain, branching out all along your head. You hiss in pain, then yell out as you feel the blade of the knife slide across your skin. You fall in a heap onto the floor, and you hear Agatha yell out for you as your vision goes black.

You wake up moments later, fluttering your eyes open to see her holding your bloodied forearm gently, a soft purple hue illuminating from her hand as she holds it over your cut, she murmurs quietly to herself. The kitchen is so dark, you can barely see her face but the purple glow is enough to let you vaguely make out her features in the dark.

"Agatha.. I don't remember.."

She snaps her eyes up to meet yours. Immediately they soften, but she pulls her lips back tightly and you see her thinking hard as your eyelids slide open and shut. You notice the panic in her eyes- the desperation in her voice. 

Your wife hushes you, softly saying your name. She looks so scared. You’ve never seen her like this before.

"It's alright, darling. I'll patch you up. I'll take care of you."

She always takes such good care of you.

That was your last thought before you passed out.

When you awoke, it was dark outside. You were tucked nicely into bed, white gauze wrapped securely around your left forearm. Your eyebrows knit in confusion as you ran your fingers over the bandaging, not feeling any pain or soreness. You felt fine.

You heard your name, it fell from her lips like it was the only thing that mattered in the world. 

Turning your head, you saw your wife, still in her day clothes even though it must be late at night. She rushed to your side, quickly climbing onto the bed. She took your face in her hands.

"How are you feeling? What do you remember?"

You smiled softly at her. How did you ever get so lucky? She's always fussing and worrying over you, making sure you're safe and taken care of. She didn't even want you to make dinner, and she was right. How pathetic of you. You can't even treat your wife.

"I'm feeling great, thanks to you my love. I'm sorry."

Confusion etched on her beautiful features at your apology. Your gaze fell to her lap, unable to meet her stunning eyes.

Her fingers slipped under your chin, gently taking hold and tipping your head up to meet her gaze. It sent shivers down your spine- her touch was always so, so gentle. Like she would break you. 

"Now, why are you apologizing my dear?"

You blinked and fidgeted a bit, your gaze trying to slip away from hers but she wouldn't let it, only shifting closer whenever you tried to do so.

"I don't want you to worry over me. You work so hard taking care of me and I can't even do something as simple as make dinner to repay you for your endless love and kindness.. I don't deserve you."

You sighed shamefully. She exhausted herself working so hard to take care of you and to pay the bills on top of it and you couldn't even make her dinner. You're useless- you feel pathetic.

Agatha shook her head, dropping her hands to your lap, she took your slightly smaller, much warmer hands into her own and held them tightly.

"Never say that, never. You're my world. Your love is what gives me the energy to keep on going every day. I can't imagine life without my loving, funny, brilliant and extremely sexy wife by my side. Having you safe and healthy is what makes this all worth it.. Okay?"

You smiled at her words. She really knew how to cheer you up. Your heart swelled, and butterflies slowly began to flutter in your stomach as your smile grew.

"Oh, Agatha… I love you."

She smiled, softly cradling your cheek. Her skin is so cold, her touch so light.. She handled you as if you were glass. As if she was hesitant to touch you. 

A small smile grew on her features.

"I love you too."

Something looked wrong in her smile. She looked scared.. Your eyebrows knit at the expression. Surely you were imagining things.

The butterflies started to flutter faster as she curled up next to you and pulled you close to her. You rested your head on her chest, and she started softly combing her fingers through your hair. After a moment she pressed her lips against the top of your head.

"I don't know what I'd do without you."

Agatha whispered into your hair as she wrapped her other arm around you. She sounded almost desperate, as if she was trying to hold onto something that was slipping away. It confused you. It made you want to take her face in your hands and say I'm right here. But still, something felt odd. 

You just snuggled back into her, holding her more tightly just to make her feel reassured. You looked at the bandages on your wrist and the butterflies went crazy again. You felt almost nauseous. 

Your eyebrows knit in confusion as you remembered what you were thinking about. Why can't you remember meeting Agatha?

You pulled back and sat up. Agatha whispered your name, softly. Knowingly. She had done this dance multiple times now, she knew what to expect. You pulled the bandages off, and found there was no cut. No scarring, no nothing. Your skin was completely unbroken and unscathed, as if you had never been cut.

You ran your fingers across the untorn skin.

She whispered your name again, with a desperate, sharp edge to her voice. And suddenly, your love twisted with repulsion as a dam broke inside of you. Your head seared with pain and you cried out as you doubled over, and all of your memories were returned to you, flooding your mind.

As your memories returned so did all of your bottled up emotions. You were overwhelmed by the sudden onslaught of powerful feelings suddenly crashing down on you. You felt like you were suffocating. You desperately wheezed for air, it was almost like you were swimming and you had stayed under water for too long. Like you had just reached the surface, desperately gulping in as much air as your lungs could take.

You looked up at Agatha. The woman you once loved. The woman you still loved.

She watched you with desperate eyes as you stood.

"No… Agatha…"

Agatha had known you were beginning to slip away when these head pains had started, and she wasn’t willing to let you go.

“Please.. Honey, let’s go to bed. It’s just the migraines getting to you.”

She shifted so that she was sitting on the edge of the bed in front of you. You stayed firmly where you were, staring at her with tears in your eyes. After a moment of no compliance she said your name softly, desperately. As if she was trying to hold onto something that was no longer hers. Rage filled you, from the top of your head to the tips of your toes. Agatha reached for you and you slapped her hand away.

Hurt etched onto her features. Your heart ached from the place that still loved her.

Why did you still love her? She had kidnapped you and put you under a spell that temporarily erased your memories. It made you vulnerable, so she could mind control you. Why does a part of you love this? The idea of a normal, magic free, domestic life with the woman you love. In a world where magic hadn’t torn the two of you apart. 

"Let me go!"

You cried, another dam breaking within you. A second wave of emotion overflowing the wall that she had put up in your mind with her magic tricks. Agatha stared at you, not a single shred of shame or guilt on her features. Just fear.

"Let me go! Agatha, you need to move on! I left you years ago, because of this!"

You waved your hands round at everything, now understanding the magical world that she had created. She looked up at you with sad, heartbroken eyes. After all these years, she was still ruined over you. After all these years, she was still desperately alone and searching for someone that could fill that loneliness like you had. But no one could. No one understood and loved her like you had.

You left her because of her dependency, her addiction to magic. 

So she took you back. 

Agatha stood, the spell softly, yet quickly slipping past her lips as she grabbed you by the arm. Firmly, yet softly… She didn’t want to hurt you.. She loves you. She just wants her girl back.

You cried out, desperately trying to cast your own spell in defense, but quickly feeling the resistance, the barrier keeping you from accessing your magic. A sob escaped your lips. You were helpless. 

"Please, Agatha… I miss my sister… I miss my job.. let me go.."

You said hopelessly as she continued the spell. You fell to your knees in front of her, tears hot against your cheeks. You felt them trail down your skin and drip off of your chin, you were crying so hard you couldn’t stop. You missed the woman you once loved.

"Please.. Let me go.."

You sobbed and begged, clinging to her legs. You buried your face into her skirt as you sobbed, and she rested her hand on your head, almost apologetically. You felt repulsed, but the part of you that still loves her welcomed it.

Just then, the walls shot back up, all of the emotions and memories Agatha wanted hidden retreating back to where they couldn’t be found.

You looked around, confused. 

Then you looked up at Agatha, who was looking down on you with knit eyebrows and worried eyes. She had tears welled up in her eyes. Had you caused her to cry?

"I'm sorry if I worried you, I don't know how I got down here!"

You laughed, trying to be lighthearted and cheer her up. She just smiled at you softly as she offered her hand to help you up.

"You tripped on your way back from the bathroom, clumsy girl." 

She said with a strained voice. She took a deep breath, blinking away the tears in her eyes. You could tell that she was trying her hardest to put back on her suave façade.

Agatha winked at you, a strange look still etched into her features. You took her hand and smiled at her as she helped you up.

"I am a bit of a clutz, my gosh!"

You exclaimed, sighing dramatically. That's when you realized you were crying. You sniffled softly, wiping your eyes and grabbing a tissue from the nightstand. 

"Agatha… Why am I crying?"

She gave you an apologetic look, her lips pulled tight.

"Oh, I don't know.. It must be because you love me so much."

Agatha exclaims as she springs up and wraps her arms around you, kissing the top of your head. Butterflies start to flutter around in the pit of your stomach.

"You're right my dear, it must just be because I adore my lovely wife so much."

Agatha smiled solemnly. She cursed herself. Then she cursed you. Why couldn't you just want her like you used to? Why did you have to make this so damn hard?

Couldn't you see that all she wants to do is love you? Didn't you know that you still love her? Why couldn't you just love her like you used to? So passionately, so relentlessly.

"Since you're crying, do you know what that means?"

She whispered softly in your ear. You hummed in question. 

"I'm gonna have to put a smile back onto that pretty face of yours."

You pursed your lips to hide the smile making its way onto your features. 

"Oh yeah? How do you plan on doing that, Mrs. Harkness?"

You asked with a raised brow. She smirked at you before softly pushing you down onto the bed. Agatha straddled your waist, throwing herself onto the bed with a bit of a bounce, before she started to tickle you.

You screeched and laughed out loudly, and Agatha smiled at the bubbly laughs leaving your lips. 

It doesn't matter, anyways. Because your happiness would eventually become more and more real. 

So would your love for her. Eventually, everything she's put in your head will become reality and you'll love her again. Completely. Passionately, relentlessly. Eventually, she will have fixed all that she had broken. With time, with magic.

Agatha refuses to lose you again.

She won't let it happen. 

[emperor-palpaminty]

Killing Time

Because nothing can kill a relationship like lies.

A modern AU where crosshair is a hitman and you're his loyal girlfriend who happens to be in the bodyguard business, but neither one of you know the other's careers

Warnings: swearing, mentions of death, making oit and allusions to smut, also this is in no way accurate to real life and it's just dramatic, please don't hurt me lol

children you have full permission to run away and not come here, in fact please run away

Very few things phased you. The only things that brought you to your precipice of agitation was burning pasta, your phone charger not working, and showing up to your shift only to realize someone had been killing all your clients.

Who said keeping people alive was easy? No one, that was who, and if anyone said it they were wrong or had no experience working with others whatsoever. Making sure others lived to see their next day was deadly business, for the people that were trying to live, at least.

“Charles!” You barked, feet hitting the floor of the bull pen. “What the hell happened?” You slammed your files on your desk, face warm, head just about collapsing with pressure. Your fingers pressed to your temples, hoping that they would grip it, hold it together. “Burke was alive when I left last night.”

“Doesn't matter now." Your coworker dropped his sandwich onto his desk. "Burke is fucking dead now. As dead as a doorknob." He swallowed his bite. "Luckily, you weren't on shift when it happened, so you aren't gonna catch any fire for it."

"Shit, Charles, a man is dead." You collapsed in your chair, a gentle "oomph" escaping your mouth. Your lips pressed together in agitation and you moaned to yourself. "This is the third one in two months. Sure, I'll get a couple cold bodies, but-"

"But this is a lot." Charles sunk into his own chair, grabbing for his sandwich again.

You stared at him, disbelief coating your gaze. "One is a lot, Charles," You snarled, grabbing at the folder on your desk. "Any leads?"

"Oh, yeah. But they're all at Burke's mansion." Charles tossed the crust of his lunch into the trash can. "I can drive ya."

"No, I'll take my car," You grumbled. You swiped the keys from your desk and stood, stalking back towards the elevator, anger eating away at you.

If one more of your clients- YOUR own clients- got killed, you would have to start pulling full shifts again.

___

Your shoes, practical, did little more than tap against the marble floor as you ducked under the Police tape. You skimmed the scene, frowning, eyes gracing past a particularly nasty chunk of gore on the wall. "Shot from above," You mumbled, glancing at the shattered window.

The mansion was huge. You'd been coming here for nearly a year now to keep an eye on Burke, and it still shocked you when you saw the absolute volume of the home. How much house would one man need, exactly?

In your years as a bodyguard you'd watched out for a lot of people- spoiled celebrities, prideful and arrogant politicians, and a particularly interesting Chef who had an unusual desire to cook everything with some kind of caffeine in it. That was probably your favorite client.

"Excuse me, miss," a voice broke the mumble in the next room, probably of detectives or cops sweeping the house for evidence. "You shouldn't-"

"I was Burke's bodyguard." You tugged your badge out or your pocket, allowing the interrupting police officer to take it and examine it. “You can verify with my assistant, Charles. Make sure you tell him he’s my assistant and not the other way around, though, he can be a dick.”

The cop hesitated, then gave a slight nod. “Well, we’re still cleaning up the scene.” His hands offered your badge back, and you slid it into your back pocket, satisfaction deflating. “You can come by later after it’s clean. Ballistics is running comparisons right now.” He paused and glanced at the shattered window. “Looks like the shot came from the garage. It’s the only side with no motion sensors or alarms.” The cop’s brows raised in interest. “Know why?”

“No.” You said, calmly, turning towards the front door. “I assume I can go there?” You heard no objection as you stepped outside, tugging your sunglasses back on over your eyes. The sun was unforgiving and you gave an involuntary hiss as the bright rays hit your eyes just right to temporarily give your vision black spots. You blinked strongly and hurried towards the garage. 

In truth, Burke had alarms everywhere except the garage because he had so many people and cars coming and going. For any new technology the billionaire was releasing, the man had drugs and other forms of entertainment coming in and out, and it was all stuff that would probably bring him down. That nondisclosure form was still somewhere in the house in some obscure filing cabinet and you really, really, really didn’t feel like having a lawsuit lurking over your shoulders. Life was too good- well, everything outside of people you were being paid to keep alive was good. 

Death really killed the whole “survival” business.

You clamored your way to the roof of the garage, noting the ladder was the same one that the gardener used around the several acres Burke owned. The police had to have put it here- the gardener only came in the mornings.

So who the hell climbed up here without a ladder? Most people didn’t want to put in the effort to scale this freehand or wedge between the wall of the garage and the fence to shimmy up. That someone had to be either very determined to kill Burke, for personal motive or financial motive.

You brushed off you pants and glanced around, looking down at the surface of the roof. Nothing- not even a bullet casing- had been left behind. You frowned and raked a hand through your hair, skimming your scalp as you examined the roof, walking to the edge closest to the window.

You stared in, at the shattered glass, pondering. Burke was heading to bed when he'd been shot, you assumed, so the assassian would have had to know his routine. Your mind ran through possibilities again, but you could come up with none that were motivated personally enough or fit enough to climb without much assistance. You trailed along the surface, frowning, unable to find anything, but paused at a smudge of black paint, small, on the corner of the roof.

____

You turned your car down the street, exhaling softly as you pulled into your driveway.

99. That was what the marks said. Very subtle, meant nothing, unless it was a birth year or graduating class. The cops had come back, irritated, snapped a couple of pictures, and told you off about your wild theories of a fiscally motivated assassian. Apparently, you watched too many scret agent movies, or something like that.

You opened the door of the car and climbed out, frustration making you slam it shut. You inhaled the scent of the yard- clean, fresh cut, and perhaps it could help soothe your anger before you went inside.

After fumbling on your Keychain, you unlocked the door and hurried in, locking it behind you. "Cross?"

A savory aroma wafted from the kitchen, and your mouth watered. Your toes found their way out of your shoes and you hurried to the kitchen, pausing briefly at the doorway.

Cross's lanky figure was leaning over the skillet, stirring something, pale hands moving in expertise across the stove top. "Darling, you're late." He drawled.

You sighed, fully entering the kitchen. "Yeah. Sorry." You leaned up and wrapped your arms around his waist, face pressing against his back. You sighed. The day felt a little less bad now- filled with him. "Work kept me."

"How was work?"

You grunted. "A killer. An absolute killer." The irony was not lost on you, but it was lost to your boyfriend. He thought you were an editor for some book publishing company, because cover was the most important thing. You were one of those people trying to stay alive, after all.

Lies hurt, but it was one of the necessary ones. A little lie.

"Yikes." His hands drew plates to himself. "Mine wasn't much better. Got a few new clients, a few new cases." He sighed. "The Baliff forgot to submit evidence."

You mumbled against his shirt. "Law school really paid off, huh?"

"I'll say." He turned around, adjusting your arms, slowly taking your chin and leaning down to peck you. You always melted at his kisses, knees weak and brain numb, and he seemed to know it every time. You hummed, running your hands up his chest, the irritation for the day pooling to your midsection as your fingers gripped his shirt, your lips pulling in on his.

Cross tugged away gently, and you whined, fingers stubbornly clasped. "Wow, really frustrated today."

"Yes," You mumbled.

His lips pressed towards one of their corners in a half smile, and he picked your head. "Go shower. Then we can eat and I'll take care of you."

You hummed, fingers reluctantly releasing him, and you hurried away to the bathroom. You paused at the dresser, rummaging through, grabbing an especially large t-shirt and hipster underwear. Comfort was more important at the moment.

You climbed into the shower, turning the water to as hot as you could and scrubbing yourself off, humming in pleasure as the day came off you and went down the drain. The floral scent of the soap remained, the purple bad working diligently to rid you of your grime and frustration. Lavender really is a natural relaxant. You sighed and leaned back briefly on the tile, feeling every muscle in you ease at the same time.

After toweling off and getting dressed, your padded to the kitchen where Cross was pouring a your favorite wine. You sighed happily, accepting the glass as he skimmed your fresh-showered body. "Thanks."

"Of course." Cross picked up his own glass, taking a sip, eyes still diligently stripping you on their own. You shivered slightly, setting down your glass and looking up at him. "Dinner's ready," He mumbled, leaning in, pressing a hand to the counter of either side of you, leaving your back to the counter. "But I would much rather start with dessert."

You drew in a breath as he pressed his lips to your neck, drawing out a sigh with his teeth. You wrapped your arms around his neck, humming in agreement, and he scooped you up. Your groaned as he drew your legs around his lips, shifting, the agitating heat pooling back between your legs. "That's a good idea." You mumbled, whimpering as he bucked his hips slightly. "I just showered, though."

"Then we can take another one," He hissed, lips covering yours. "You're so damn intoxicating."

You mumbled something against his lips, unable to get a coherent response out as he dropped you on the bed. You bounced briefly, giggling, and he yanked off his shirt and joined you, climbing over you and hovering. "Come here, sweetheart," His finger traced over your shirt between your breasts, running down to the hem. "Let's end the day on a good note."

You whimpered, neck straining as you leaned up for his kiss, and you felt Cross snarl against you, tugging your surrendered form up closer to him. Your body relaxed again, neck loosening and head back against the pillow as he tugged your own shirt up, eyes gleaming with a primal eagerness that made you swoon, ready to work out the agitation for the day you both had.

[amindofstone]

A pirates treasure

a/n: I am in love with a broken character. I am in love with a man that has “death” tattooed on his fingers. I am in love with a freaking 2D character that has the name “Surgeon of death”. Call me crazy but hey, the owner of a heart was never able to choose in who it falls in love. Yeah, to put it short I am in love with a character that barely has any romantic, lovely or sweet traits but still gets me screaming at 2 am whenever he appears. I am in love with Trafalgar D. Water Law.

a/n edited: My attention was drawn to a huge mistake of mine. I really don't want to justify my mistake and just delete it as if nothing happened. So therefore I'll do a quick explanation.

As you can see I used the picture above as a "cover" for my imagine without making any researches about the artist of the amazing work. I got the picture send by a friend with the request if I could use it and so I did without thinking twice. I should have done my job properly by finding the artist and asking for permission but I didn't and simply neglected that. And I'm truly and really sorry for that and genuinely apologise from the bottom of my heart. I hope I'll be forgiven. The picture used was that of the artist @666deaddash999 that has a blog here on tumblr and definitely should be seen. And again my apologies. 

a/n edited pt. 3.: I am in f***ing tears. I don´t deserve this much kindness. This artist, the dear @666deaddash999​ , is truely an angel. I really am garteful for being allowed to use it. Like damn they even liked my fic!!! I am in tears and emotional AF!! Anyways have a nice day and thank you for reading my work!

Genre: anime imagine? One Piece imagine?

Character(s): Trafalgar D. Water Law x Rose (reader)

Warnings: Maybe grammar or spelling mistakes. (I genuinely apologize. English is not my mother tongue and I´m really trying to improve. So please be so kind and have mercy)

Words: 4257

Info: Keep in mind that the words in italic are Rose (reader) train of thoughts.

!!! Please do not steal my idea or work. Credit me if this is shared or published in any other platform or any other way. This took me a lot of time. So please respect me as the writer and my work. Picture used is not mine. Credits to the rightful owner. !!!

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"Are you insane?! Can you hear what you're saying right now?! No! Do you know what you're saying right now?!", asked the now furious woman. "She lost her mind Marcus. Your daughter lost her brain on the way back home!!", the woman with the probably most expensive tiara on her head was running around the salon while making sure her husband understood her point in their daughters failure. "For the sake of sanity Marcus say something!!! Won't you?!", the woman yelled at her husband who was sitting on his chair in front of the chimney. “I regret the day I gave birth to you? I regret those nine months I carried you. I did not give birth to you so you can end up like this! This is not what we taught you!”. The king was clearly overwhelmed by the whole situation that had to happen two weeks before the king and his spouse from the neighboring island would come. Right at the moment in which he and his wife decided to make their daughter marry their son. The king who usually was always in a good mood and had a smile on his lips was now the total opposite. He was sad and felt lost. He didn't know how to cope with the situation his wife; or rather life confronted him with.

With a hand covering half of his face and closed eyes he focused on his breathing and just let his spouse calm down first before he spoke what was on his mind. He kept telling himself to breathe in and breath out when the queen’s next words made him stand up and leave the room.

"You traitor! How dare you sit there like you're the victim, you disgrace! You disgusting piece of shit! Where did you leave you honor and pride?! In the bed of that scum?!", the words of the mad woman made the young royal look up for the first time she entered the salon. The princess, the third daughter of one of the most powerful kingdoms, was in tears. A hand covering her mouth with the hope to keep her screams of pain inside she just let the tears stream down her face. “Look what you did you cheap piece of shit. I am disappointed in you. No wonder I never was fond of you and your existence. You are absolutely not capable of anything in this world. And Marcus calls something like you his beloved daughter. Get out and get back to your chambers. I don´t want to see you out of your quarter before the royal family whose son you´ll be marrying will come. You heard me! And I dare you to start another tantrum about the marriage or else I make you regret existing.”, Rose nodded and left the salon without a word.

On her way back to her quarter her brother, the crown prince, saw her and wanted to stop her and ask what their mother said, but she didn´t let him touch her or talk to her. He wanted to hold her and comfort her since he knew how their mother can hurt one with her words but she didn´t let him come closer. She silently left him behind and ran to her save place so she could cry out loud with the hope of getting rid of the pain in her chest. She cried and cried until her maid came with her dinner. The maid tried her best to make the young princess stop crying and eat something but she couldn´t make it. When the food she brought her got cold she tried to at least make her calm down but to no avail. Before the sad maid left the princess alone she took the food she brought her and asked her with pleading eyes if she could do anything for her. The maid thought that she won´t answer her while still shedding tears when the princess who was sitting on her bed looked her in the eye for the first time since she entered her chambers. The maid gave her a genuine and friendly smile while telling her that she´ll do anything for her. But the words of the princess made her stop smiling while the little spark of hope died down. “Kill me and put this miserable life of mine to an end.”, the maid did not know what to say so she left her chambers with a soft apology and a deep bow.

Silence.

Suffocating silence took over her chambers after a while when no sound of her could be heard anymore. Her throat was sore from the hurt screams that left her. Screams she tried to suppress with a pillow or her hand. Screams she held in for weeks. If her throat wouldn´t be hurting by now and if she had just a bit more energy she would be screaming more. She would be screaming from the top of her lungs while trying to get rid of the pain in her chest that seems to be clinching onto her for dear life. Her heart was aching. Her soul was helplessly trying to understand what was happening right now while her brain stopped functioning. She was lifeless. She looked like a corpse sitting on a bed. She didn´t move an inch or dared to breathe aloud. When someone would have entered her chambers they would have thought a doll was sitting on the massive bed and not the princess. The princess the whole kingdom loved for her genuine smile and friendliness. A princess that was loved by ever person that saw her because of the kindness she holds in her heart and eyes.

The princess. A young lady whose beauty was known all over the world. Whose kindness anyone knew and mentioned. A young royal with a genuine heart, a heart as pure as that of an angel. A young royal in the age of 19 that was able to make any person walk over broken glass if they could make her smile. But what happened to her? A young lady who used to walk around the kingdom with a smile upon her lips and a childlike playfulness. What happened to the girl that used to be the happiness of any person in the palest and the kingdom?

Rose, never thought that the day would come she needed to be told how beautiful life can be. She never thought that the day would come where her siblings and maids would have to come and tell her that life is full of love and happiness 

Isn´t it funny how fast a person can change? How fast the happiness of a person can be taken away from them. Isn´t it funny how something that is supposed to be good can break a person and ruin their whole life? How can something that she was always told about as the most beautiful and powerful thing on earth break her and be the cause of her pain. Why does it carry so much pain and tears when it´s supposed to be the reason a human lives? This doesn´t seem logical to her. It seems like all the things she was told were lies. Lies and lies told one after another. Why did they lie to me?

Rose was freezing. The dress she was wearing at the moment was obviously not able to keep her warm anymore. She needed to change. She needed to take a bath. But she had neither energy nor motivation to do anything so she kept sitting there while looking out of her huge window. Her window was wide open and let the fresh but cold wind of the spring night enter her save place. Her curtains were waving more and more due to the slowly stronger getting wind. Just when she thought that she calmed down a bit, she suddenly started to remember the words of her mother. Words that were sharper than any knife or sword. Words that cut her heart into pieces. Disgrace, she said. Disappointment, she said. She regrets giving me live, she said. And again tears fell down her cheeks. Tears filled by pure hate towards herself. She hated herself. She hated her body and wanted to die. The couple that used to shower her with love now hated her. Slowly more tears started to stream down her face while she tried to muffle down her soft sobs by putting a hand over her mouth. The cold wind that entered her chambers through her open window and door to her terrace stopped by now only to be replaced by rain. It seems like the sky was the only one that understood her pain and cried with her out of empathy. Day, weeks and now months passed and a forbidden longing accompanied her through her lonely days filled with regret. I wish I never went to the harbor with my maid. I wish I could erase that day from my life and memories.

When she thought that the pain she felt couldn´t get worse a person called her name with so much love it hurt her. She was confused and scared at the same time. With panic written all over her face she looked around her chambers only to be greeted by a tall man who entered her bedroom through her terrace. Slow steps were made as if he knew that she´d be overwhelmed by his sudden presence. She couldn´t see his face but knew that he was looking straight into her eyes. Just when he was about to enter her bedroom he stopped at the door of her terrace and allowed her to hear his voice. A voice that was able to get her weak and lose balance and fall on her knees. But luckily she was now sitting on her bed in the same position since a few hours now. “May I enter?”

A soft whine erupted her sore throat, while her heart started to race. As if she ran from one side of the island to the other. She couldn´t believe her eyes. She wanted to scream his name and jump in his arms. She wanted to kiss his face, hands and shower him with all the love she felt for him but she didn´t move but gave him a small nod that allowed him to enter. Am I imagining this?

His hat he seemed to love so much and that turned into his signature got recognized by the heartbroken princess next to his sword that accompanied him through every fight and battle. But his clothes changed into something she thought he would never wear. It changed into something elegant but at the same time simple. A black long cloak was loosely hanging over his shoulder that was decorated at its collar with a thick pitch black fur. Under the cloak she could make out a white wide loose shirt that gave away a beautiful sight of his toned and tattooed chest. He looked like a sculpture that was awakened to life. She couldn´t believe what she was seeing. She was staring at his face, his hands, his slightly wetted clothes with the hope that her eyes were playing a stupid game with her heart. She couldn´t look away while all this time he was slowly coming closer to her and the bed she was sitting on. Just when she realized who was standing in her chambers she quickly tried her best to pull herself together and speak in a half decent steady voice but sadly to no avail. “Don´t come closer and get back to the place you came from.”

She tried. She tried her best to talk in a convincing and steady voice but she failed, miserably. Her trembling voice and body betrayed her. Her hands that were holding tight onto her sheets betrayed her. Her knuckles that turned white from the pressure she put on them betrayed her. But most of all it were her eyes and tears that betrayed her. Her whole body screamed to be touched by him. Her hands longed for his warmth. Her heart screamed to be consoled and her eyes gave away all of the love she had for him. She shouldn´t be able to cry anymore thinking about the whole day she only cried but unlike a few minutes ago she was now shedding tears of pure joy. “Are you sure that you want me to leave?”, the man in front of her asked her to not only convince himself that this is what she wanted but also to give her the chance to rethink her choice, but the black haired woman nodded what she instantly regretted.

Regret. What a simple word to use when it hold so much emotions and thoughts.

The moment she saw him make a step back and put a distance between him and her, a quiet pleading to not leave her left her lips that made him instantly drop his sword. The sudden sound of his falling weapon surprised her and made her look down to the place it fell. She wanted to ask if he was doing fine when the next move of the man that ruined her life shook her to death. Everything happened in the blink of an eye. He took of his hat and threw it somewhere she couldn´t make out only to get on her bed and connect their lips. She didn´t wanted him to kiss her. She didn´t wanted him this close but still grabbed his shirt and pulled him closer. Rose´s hands were trembling while her tears still didn´t stop falling. It felt like a dream, a dream come true when she remembered her mother’s words and pushed him away from her.

Trafalgar D. Water Law.

What or who gave you the permission to enter my live and turn it upside down. The tears that were falling down her cheeks were that of pure happiness to have him in front of her but slowly with her mother´s words coming back to her mind they slowly turned into tears of pain and fear. Law wanted more. He wanted to kiss her more and hold her. He wanted her all to himself. He took her hands, that were still holding onto his shirt, in his and kissed each and every finger of her one by one. “She´ll kill you.”, she said with a quivering voice with the hope to make him understand in what kind of situation they were but he didn´t care at all. “She said she´ll execute you in front our nation.”, but still the pirate didn´t care. In fact he intertwined their hands and started to kiss her all over her face. “She called you so many names and said that she´ll kill any person you are close to right after she killed you. Law are you listening.”, she kept telling him what her mother the queen said but her lover didn´t seem to care. But to make clear that he indeed was listening to her he nodded and hummed in her ear before he made his way to her neck. But before he could place his lips on her skin again she said something what made him stop in his tracks. “I´m getting engaged in two weeks and married next month.”, just when she thought that he´ll get made and push her away she heard a soft chuckle before he laid her down and get back to kissing her while making sure to leave marks here and there. She felt pathetic. She felt horrible. She felt like agreeing to her mother’s words that she is not worth being a royal or a princess. “Law, don´t you understand in what situation I am right now? I feel like I´m a joke to y….”.

“Am I a joke to you? Are my feelings a joke to you?”, Law stopped her midsentence just to leave her with a question that made her rethink all the thoughts she had in the last weeks. But she had no time to think because the man on top of her stood up and left her bed. Panic overcame her and she started to breath quickly. “Please don´t leave me. I beg you Law. I don´t know what to do without you. Please!”

If the princess could see the man’s face at this moment she would have seen his genuine smile of pure happiness and relief. “Who said I wanted to leave you?”, said the tall man and made his way towards her door just to lock it. No matter where he went Rose followed all of his steps around her chambers. He closed the window and the door to her terrace while also making sure to close the curtains. If her maid did not came to light the candelas on her nightstand it would have been pitch black and she wouldn´t be able to see what the pirate who sneaked into the palace would do right now. He took of his shoes and placed them neatly next to the armchair in front of her chimney. Slow and carefully he took of his slightly wet cloak and put it over the backrest to dry. While she wondered if he wasn´t cold with what he was wearing she realized a bit too late that he took his shirt off and went to light up some other candelas in her room while giving her a full display of his tattoos. How on earth could someone as beautiful as him fall for me? What happened that made him love me to an extend he came all the way to the palace to me? Do I deserve this much love? Rose was looking down to her hands that lay on her lap when she felt the bed shift. She didn´t dare to look him in the eyes. She felt cheap and used. How can I marry a man that I don´t love? How can I get married while fully knowing that I gave away the most precious thing I had to a pirate that told me he loved me? I am being the naive and stupid woman my mother called me. “Do you regret losing you virginity to me?”, the sudden question of the criminal she fell in love with surprised her and made her look up to him with widen eyes. “Do you regret letting me be your first kiss? Do you regret letting me lay in your arms?”, Law took her hands back in his to intertwine them again. An act he does without realizing it by now. He was used to place her hand in is. He wanted it and needed it. He wanted to feel her and her warmth. He needed a reassurance that she really was sitting in front of him. He needed something that made clear to him that he wasn´t dreaming and really was beside her and not in his or the strawhats ship sleeping.

“Do you want to marry him? Are you fine with your parents marring you off to someone you don´t love neither know?”, the princess was overwhelmed not only by his question but also by his eyes which were filled by sadness. His grey eyes that usually had something playful and fierce in it. His eyes that used to always soften whenever the landed on her who was his lover, his woman, his absolute everything. The princess placed her hands on his face and caressed his cheeks. If only she knew what that little gesture did to him. If only she knew how much control she had over him. If only. “Trafalgar Law. I gave you everything I had. I let you be my first love and my first lover. I let you be my first kiss and my first time not for you to ask me if I regretted it. Law I love you. Although my miserable live won´t allow me to be with you I can assure you that I would throw everything away only to be with you.”, Laws eyes were closed. He couldn’t think properly anymore. His heart was racing. His mind was an absolute mess. He wanted her close to him. He wanted to feel her. He needed her so he sat her down on his lap and leaned back. With his head resting on the headboard of her bed and the royal lady on top of him he tried to calm his heart down and make it stop racing. “If I wouldn´t be a doctor I would have thought I was about to die whenever I had you near me.”, the young princess looked at him with concern in her eyes. “At that time I couldn´t understand why my heart was racing or why I felt like I was getting crushed. There was always this feeling of something or someone putting a huge amount of pressure on my chest whenever I thought about you. And whenever I had you close to me I felt like I was drowning and losing all my powers. But now I know that it´s alright to feel like this because this is how it´s supposed to be. Because today I know that it´s because I love you.”, Law was not someone that spoke out loud about his feelings. He wasn´t the type of person who shared his thoughts but when he did he was able to blow any person away. The words of her lover made her heart race while guilt over came her. “Stop. Please stop.”, begged Rose while hiding her face in the crock of his neck. She knew that she was hurting him by telling him to stop. She knew that she wasn´t supposed to react like this but what could she do, she was promised to a prince of a neighbor island. She shouldn´t be kissing him or hugging him. She shouldn´t be laying in his arms while he told her how much she meant to him. She should be sending him away like a worthy daughter and princess should do.

“Do you want me to leave. If so than just tell me and I will leave you alone tonight. I really don´t have a problem with that. I can´t bear seeing you sad, my love. I will come tomorrow. Would you like that?”, hearing his words made her look up and see his face to make sure he wasn´t playing with her but no, he was serious. He was smiling down to her while caressing her cheek. The look he gave her broke her heart. She knew he loved her. No matter how many times she told herself that she meant nothing to him her heart told her different. “This is not how it works, Law! You are such a fool. You idiot! I just told you that I´m promised to a prince and here you are telling me that you will come tomorrow if I don´t feel well. What is wrong with you?”, tears were falling down her cheeks. Thinking about the amount of tears she just shed today makes one wonder how she is still possible to cry more. Rose hit him a few times on his chest before she left his lap and sat down next to him. She couldn´t bear being this close to him so she tried putting some distance between him and her when Law laid her down and hovered above her.

“Tell me what is wrong with you? Do you really think I let your parents take you away from me? Do you really think I let some random bastard marry my woman? I am a pirate Rose. If I want something I get it and when I have it I won´t give it back. Do you understand?”, Law spoke in a soft tone but one full of power and determination. Rose didn´t know what to say so she simply kept quiet and kept listening to him. “You are mine. My treasure. My property, You are mine all alone and I don´t share what is mine. And if anyone is so foolish to try to take what is mine I won´t hesitate to cut off their heart.”, the dreaded pirate spoke in his calm but deep voice and made the woman underneath him stare at him without daring to move an inch. “Now tell me do you really thing I let you get married to anyone that is not me?”, Rose was numb. She was awestruck and speechless so Law took the matter in his own hands and took her face in his hands and shook her head in a playful manner. He knew that his words took her by surprise what could he do? It was her guilt that he was head over heel in love with her. “No, my darling. I won´t let go of you. Just wait a few more days and wait for me. I have a little plan to get you out of her.”, the last words the pirate spoke made her widen her eyes. Law indeed loved the effect he had on her. The princess wanted to say something but the pirate didn´t allow her to speak up. He placed a short kiss on her lips before he slowly started to unbutten her dress. “Law?!”

“You can´t imagine how much I missed you. Please allow me to show you how much you mean to me, my dear. Hold me and show me that your presence is not a dream. Please allow me to love you.”

[bumbershots]

LOVEFOOL

Author’s note: HELLO! This is my part for the Valentine’s Day challenge that @1dffchallenges put together. Make sure to keep an eye out for any other pieces published by other authors. Enjoy! And happy Valentine’s weekend! (:

Summary: Harry agrees to go on a blind date set up by his friends in hopes that it will help him move on from an unrequited love.

Word count: 3K

Challenge prompt and dialogue: blind date set up by friends. “I don’t want this to end...”

There’s a first for everything. Harry’s had his fair share of them at the age of twenty-seven. First time on an aeroplane at the tender age of six for a family holiday in Rome. First kiss on his home town’s park with someone he deeply cared about. First time in a recording studio. First time going on tour. The first night spent alone in his new and barely furnished home. The first morning he laid eyes on the girl next door. The ugly heartbreak after she got married, certainly felt worse than his first one.

Life is full of firsts, Harry knows that, and he wishes to have been the first to sneak his way into Jane’s heart, all those years ago.

"You love her" it almost sounds like an accusation coming from Jeff, though the last thing he wants is to make Harry feel guilty. The musician doesn't reply, he shrugs, eyes never leaving her no matter how deep into the ocean she seems to be. "Does she know?" Harry shakes his head in denial. "Did you bring her along just so you could tell her?"

"I enjoy writing music with her, that's why she's here," his tone leaves no room for more questions, the manager knows and sighs defeated. Harry stands from his spot on the beach and heads back inside the house, alone.

Is he being that obvious?

He reviews the past few days and wonders where he slipped, nothing rings any bell. Harry completely and conveniently forgets how he doesn't nag her for having a smoke after dinner, instead he just opens the window and stands close to it, or how he's been making her a cuppa everyday at noon. But it was the time when Jane asked him to help her French plait her hair when something clicked in Jeff's brain, the way Harry beamed at such a simple request left no room for questioning. Yet he asked him, because there was that tiny chance of it all being part of the manager's imagination, but when he looked back on it, the little things now made more sense to him and in a way he always knew.

They've been in Port Antonio for two weeks now and everything was going just dandy, Harry was writing more than ever, the first week he had a new song every day, he even polished the old ones and had a tune for his favourites, thanks to Mitch's help. When Jeff Azoff got there earlier this week, he spent a good two hours talking to Jeff Bhasker about how much of a good idea the trip was.

"Harry is on a writing spree." He complimented Azoff's client, it was nothing but the truth. However the reason for it all, was now heading back to the house to join the others after a good surfing session.

Jane went straight to take a shower, ready to rinse all the ocean's saltiness from her body, thinking how wonderful it would've been if her own worries could be washed away with her tangerine shampoo. In contrast to Harry's good spirits and excellent mood, her own cloud of trouble seemed to follow her all the way from London. She still hadn't heard from her husband, so it is safe to say he was still upset about her going away to work in Harry's album. It was impossible for her to forget the argument they had, at first thinking it was a joke on his side, insinuating that they were ‘shagging behind his back’.

After her shower, wearing comfortable clothes, Jane joins the others for supper but keeps to herself, still with the dichotomy about calling Alex or letting him be. He will eventually come to his senses and apologise. 

What if he doesn't? 

The thought alone of her clothes being packed in boxes by the time she gets back home almost makes her cry, perhaps she can call or text him just to test the waters. It is ridiculous how she seems to be more mature about this than him.

"Penny for them?" Harry's voice brings her back to the now empty dining room, the voices from the rest of their party can be heard from the living room.

"God I'm sorry H, lost myself out there for a moment," she is embarrassed, with him, the others and herself for letting this situation get under her skin. And she's also avoiding talking about it, with Harry or anyone. "I was just thinking about the tempo for Sweet Creature."

"Liar," he hates to be shut down by her more than anything. "Is it because I didn't let you eat the last peanut drop the other day?" It would've been easier for her to say it was, than to address the actual reason. But Harry hasn't lied to her, ever.

"No love, although I was a bit hurt because of that, it's actually this thing with Alex we are, I don't know, he was upset with me and said some things," Jane couldn't finish, her speech was cut short by a quiet sob and Harry was quick to pull her from the chair onto his lap and hold her tight. His own heart speeding at the sight of her distressed.

"When was the last time you spoke to him?"

"Two weeks ago." Her voice barely whispers on his chest, "he's being a wanker to be honest, just because he's not going on tour with any of his bands I'm supposed to be a stay at home wife!"

"Why don't you explain this to me, from the beginning, please?" He asks rubbing her back soothingly, and she spills it all, the having kids now or never argument, to her wanting to have a proper wedding party and finally the latest fight where Alex suggested an affair going on between her and Harry, the latter had to do his best not to put the option on the table, since her husband so kindly suggested it. Might as well, he thought. "It all sounds like a big misunderstanding, I know you're a great communicator sunshine, so it baffles me that you've let this go on for so long." He's got a point.

"You're right, but I feel like it's his turn, you know?" Jane's done weeping, but remained on her friend's lap and arms, head resting on his shoulder. "He's always forward, mature, a proper thirty year old except when it comes to arguments where we ought to reach an agreement," she plays a bit with the cross hanging from his neck, a scowl on her pretty face. "Like with the children thing, we only stopped arguing when I said that maybe in two more years we could have one instead of, you know, my early thirties." It's good that she can't see how upset Harry is.

"You gave into that one, he should do the same but it's his choice," Harry sighs and can't believe what he's about to say. "Take the day off tomorrow, call him or FaceTime, Skype whatever you choose, but have a proper conversation with him." She wants to argue and say it's not necessary to be absent the whole day, she can spare a few hours. But she will need time to think about what to say, make her point clear so they are on good terms until she goes back to London.

"Fine, but if he is still acting like a dickhead afterwards, I'm not going to let it into my head anymore, we will continue to bask in this great work environment going on here." Jane states, pulling away from his embrace just enough to give him that stern look she uses when trying to make a point, and Harry nods with a warm smile, the one she never gets tired of seeing. "I'll call it a night now, gonna be asleep in seconds now that I've got that out of my chest." She stands from his lap, missing his warmth instantly. "Thanks for that."

"Anytime honey pie." Harry says before leaving a kiss on her left hand that burns her skin from then till morning.

Jeff joins the musician in the dining room right after the girl walks away to her room, he takes a seat across from him and scrutinises the look of adoration his friend still sports once she is out of the room.

"She'll never know, if you never tell her." Jeff is right, but the thought alone of going through that again scares him to death. Or so he says, because there's a part of him that is fond of the thrill it makes him feel.

"It's not like I haven't tried, just last year I told her," Harry remembers that night vividly, how pretty she looked even with her makeup all smudged under her eyes. "I'm not sure if she heard, it was too loud like where we were at the time." He was also pissed out of his mind.

"H, there's nothing wrong with being in love."

"I'm not saying it is, but even if she did love me I– I would find a way to hurt her. Anyway. she's happily married now, it's too late." Saying it out loud doesn't hurt him any less like he thought it would. Harry sighs in defeat before rising from the chair, "she's everything to me, I wouldn't mess with her head by confessing my feelings, deep down I always knew she deserved better and now she has it and that's good enough for me." The musician disappears through the corridor where his everlasting love did just a few minutes ago, he paused for a moment outside her room, pondering whether to barge in and just follow his instincts, kiss her like he should've done after winning that award back in 2014.

Harry shakes his head and goes straight to his room, he reminds himself that it was time to let her go. It's for the best. He is not good enough for her, he can't even write a song for her, about her. He mustn't love her that much then.

What Harry doesn't know is that he can't write a song about her because he loves her too much, the poor lad can't even figure out where to start. But he's about to get rid of that curse in a day or two, he just needs to be patient.

The reward for it came, all of a sudden Harry wrote too many songs about her until she inevitably became aware of the situation they were in. Harry vowed to stay away from Jane’s life after recording the album. He dated people that didn’t remind him of her, and even moved temporarily to Japan. But despite all his efforts, four years later Harry still finds himself thinking about her, everything seems to be tainted by her. The music he adores, the new dinner recipes he cooks, the books he chooses to read.

Completely out of options he agreed to this blind date his friends set up for him.

He arrives at the modest restaurant they so kindly chose for the occasion. “All you have to do is wear something nice and show up.” Alexa reminded him over the phone last week.

This is a new first for him, it is also exciting, to take a seat at a table for two conveniently placed at the back, pretend to pay attention to the menu but let his green eyes avert to whoever approaches. Harry is having a great time, he knows that soon his date will arrive. He wonders what they’ll be like.

According to Alexa and Pixie, the person arriving is the perfect match for their young friend. Harry can only hope they like Vietnamese cuisine because that’s apparently this place’s special offer this week. If he’s lucky enough the date will agree to share a starter and perhaps two main courses, that way he doesn’t have to choose between one or the other.

“Here’s your table.” Harry hears the waiter speak and his gaze meets a very familiar figure standing beside him. It can’t be.

“Excuse me, there must be a mistake, I’m waiting for someone else.” Harry protests.

The waiter shakes his head and shows him the notepad with some specifications written down. “Nothing wrong, got specific instructions from Miss Chung, a lady will come in to say is here for Geldolf’s blind date, you are sitting at the table they reserved. I’ll be back in a few minutes to take your order.” He is quick to explain and disappear.

Jane sits because there is no way she can stand any longer, her legs are about to give out from the commotion. This was not the blind date she was expecting either. It’s been at least four years since she last saw Harry. The night after he finally admitted being in love with her, waiting for a reaction, anything from her, after what seemed like hours but was only ten minutes later, he walked out of her house and entire life, leaving her confused and upset.

“How’ve you been?” she asked after confirming that Harry wasn’t going to up and leave.

“Pretty fantastic, until you arrived.” He’s never spoken to her like that before, with so much affliction in his tone. “What are you doing here?”

“I was set up on a blind date by Pixie—

He interrupts her. “That’s fucking convenient, did you all went to this much trouble, just to mock me? I thought they were my friends, you know, that even after everything, they cared about me.” Harry stops, his voice breaks, he’s so angry, hurt and confused by the situation. “Did your husband come along, to witness my humiliation too?” He looks around, trying to find the man of Jane’s dreams.

“I wouldn’t know if he’s here, haven’t seen him since we got divorced three years ago.” She snaps before hiding behind the menu from a gobsmacked Harry.

The words he’d been waiting to hear were finally out of her mouth. Unlike the million times he dreamt about this happening, Harry is not sweeping her off her feet and running away into the sunset holding her hand. Instead he reaches out to touch her arm, testing the waters. He waits for her to lower the menu and surprisingly there are no tears in her eyes. Perhaps only a bit of sorrow that is quickly replaced with confusion, at how fast her heart raced after Harry’s touch.

“Do you want to talk about it?” His voice is back to oozing the tenderness he reserves just for her. Jane nods.

“But can we share a rice bowl and Pho noodle soup?” 

“Yes, and dessert too!” Even after four years Harry’s sweet tooth hasn’t changed, Jane sighs before the waiter is back to take their order.

Keeping a conversation between the two of them is not hard at all, even if it is an awkward topic —her not so recent divorce. “We didn’t have anything in common anymore, there were so many fights every single day. When I finally suggested the separation, he seemed relieved and I felt like a complete fool.” Jane remembers the sigh of comfort that came out of the man she once loved with all her heart before that rainy afternoon, when she finally decided that she’d had enough. “He left that night, hadn’t seen him since, his lawyer took care of everything,” a sour laugh escapes her lips, Harry’s eyes are full of sympathy for her. “I’m sorry for ruining your blind date, I know you’ve never been to one before.” Of course she did, she knows him better than anyone.

“This has to be the greatest date I’ve ever been to.” He speaks without a second thought. 

All those years Harry spent away from Jane were not going to be in vain. He was not going to neglect the feelings he still had for her. That affection he felt for her, only her. Harry shifts in his seat, this is not at all how he planned it, in a restaurant full of people on fucking Valentine’s day. It almost seemed like a tacky move.

But after all this time of pining for her, hating her and himself at times. Harry was brave enough, it was now or never, he didn’t want to wait any longer, not after his friends schemed and executed this soppy plan to bring the two soulmates together. Before she could take the final bite of dessert that Harry kindly left for her. The world stopped.

“I don’t want this to end...” Harry says with a dimpled smile she can’t look away from. “I’d like to take you out on a second date, a third, fourth, fifth. Believe me when I tell you, I have planned up to a thousand of them.” He takes her hand in his and can feel her pulse race along his own. The smile splits his face again, because he knows, he feels, he sees it in her beautiful eyes. “Janey, you’re the first person I’ve ever wanted to hold on to. I know there is a name for this emotion, I’ve written songs about it, but now I don’t think it’s a word big enough for us.”

She squeezes his hand and breaths out a laugh, tears of joy brimming out of her eyes. “Let’s call it love, until we come up with a better name for it.” Harry agrees and just then, Jane brings up his hand to her lips. 

His skin tingles where she kisses him for the first time and he beams at her.

There’s a first for everything, and although it feels like it for Jane and Harry, this isn’t by any means the first time they confess their love for each other. It was always there, in every laugh they shared, every song they wrote together, every touch. It was on Harry’s unwavering devotion, on his impatience and selfless actions throughout the years.

They were bound to be together, their story didn’t begin on that initial blind date, it did years ago after he caught a glimpse of her shiny black hair on the morning she moved into the house across the street.

Harry drives her back to her new flat on the other side of the city, enjoying every minute of the long ride, happy to hear her ramble about her newest obsession with romantic novels and burst out laughing after Jane confesses that sometimes she doesn’t finish reading books she likes, just to pretend the story keeps going. With a quick kiss to the back of her hand he completely agrees.

No tale is more compelling than one that never ends.

[barjogaron]

This is the continuation for my Elite AU Love & Deceit! The fanfiction can be read on ao3 here:

https://archiveofourown.org/works/32302612

And on Wattpad here:

Chapter Three:

Waiters and waitresses all dressed in white stand on every corner of the table. There are young men who play violins in the corners of the room, and women who tug on the strings of harps. I see my suite mates are already seated and I grab a random seat to sit in. From across from me I see Polo looking at me with hungry eyes, teasing me with a smirk. I ignore him and observe the rest of the dining hall.

Traditional European foods of all kind are already set up neatly on the white blanketed table on silver plates that are partnered with a drinking glasses and silverware. A heavenly chandelier hangs from above everything and Crisanto sits at the head of the long table. He is accompanied by other people dressed just as fancy as him. A young man with rosy cheeks and a friendly smirk, sitting next to another guy with beautiful caramel-colored skin and dark eyes. There is also a girl who sits beside them and they all bicker in a soft chatter, laughing and giggling in unison. There are a few other important looking people as well. I assume they are all Cristano's very opulent friends.

"Welcome, everyone. This meal is not only for my departure, but also in dedication to you, the new addition to the White Mansion." Crisanto smiles. Even though I shouldn't take it in other way, "new addition to the White Mansion" sounded pretty odd to say, but I shouldn't think too hard about it.

"Ah, right on time as always." Crisanto turns his heads to his sons that enter the room. Leading his brothers, dressed handsomely, is no other than the bruiting, Guzmán.

He is dressed in a black velvet suit, a suit that darkens his eyes in a strange deep incandescent green filled with obscured devilry. His hands are in his pocket, and he looks at just about everything in the room, except for in my direction. For a split second our eyes lock, and he quickly turns away clenching his jaw. I can tell he is forcing himself to avoid me. But why? I wonder what his problem is.

His brothers are dressed in a more casual formal  attire. They all sit in seats near the girls I'm living with, and some next to each other and other guests who I am not yet familiar with. By the time all the boys sat down, the only spot left for Guzmán to sit is next to me...

His powerful scent infiltrates my nostrils and I can't help but to think how good he smells. I try my best to ignore him, tapping my fingers on my thighs. I can feel him eyes looking over me, and from the corner of my eye I see his jaw do his signature clenching thing again, and he quickly turns his head away from me, taking a sudden interest in the silverware in front of him.

"Now, shall we say grace before we begin?" Crisanto smiles but it quickly fades when he looks at me, giving me an apologetic look.

"I'm sorry Nadia, forgive me. Would it be alright to say prayer? I don't want to oppress any different religious beliefs." he asks me and I shrug in my seat, trying to avoid all the eyes of the room staring at me.

"I really don't mind it." I smile nervously.

"Splendid. Come now, let us all hold hands." he tells us. I'm not so keen to the idea of holding hands with Guzmán, but I must do so. This day just keeps getting better and better...

We all stand from our seats, grabbing onto one another's hands. I am hesitant to hold Guzmán's hand, inching my hand closer to his.

"I don't bite," whispers Guzmán. "Hard." He surprises me by practically snatching my hand into his. His hands are bigger than mind, fingers slender and ringed with silver, and easily wraps around my cold hands. Unlike his, which are somewhat soft and very warm. For some odd and stupid reason, I can feel my face heating up and I literally shake my head to fight against the sensation. I hate this.

"Our gracious Heavenly Father," Crisanto begins the prayer and we all close our eyes as he continues. For some odd reason I am tempted to open my eyes, and stupidly, I do, only to see Guzmán staring at me. I close my eyes quickly and I hear a soft chuckle escape from his mouth. I didn't think he was even capable of even chuckling, let alone laughing. I can feel the heat rising, my palms getting hotter and hotter.

Please end this prayer already! Please! I mentally scream. I repeat it over and over in my head, just so I can escape Guzmán's grip. Within moments, Crisanto ends the prayer with an amen, and we all sit back down in our seats. Thank goodness.

I snatch my hand back as quick as I could, looking away and pretending Guzmán doesn't exist. Yet, this cunning young man has the audacity to lean closer and whisper into my ear.

"Don't worry, I enjoyed holding your hand too." he grins against my ear. I can feel him smiling at me. I know for sure it's with all the wrong intentions.

"Don't flatter yourself." I whisper back to him and his eyes simmer cold, but his perky lips still hold that smirk. Guzmán smirks and focuses his attention to his plate.

"I can tell you're not going to be an easy catch." he says and my mouth hangs open. I know he's trying to get under my skin. I can tell by his cheeky smile.

I scoff.

"You have another thing coming if you're thinking I'm a catch." I tell him and focus on my plate, waiting for the waiter to reveal our meals. Everyone else is socializing with one another like normal people, and here I am with the dreamy yet diabolical, Guzmán, who I barley even know—is finding it in his twisted pleasure to annoy me.

"Don't worry, little rabbit, I enjoy a good game." I look at him and I lose it.

"Game?!" I shout and everyone goes quiet. I clear my throat thinking of something of a way to quickly dig myself out of this awkwardness.

"I didn't know you fancied sports so personally, Guzmán." I shoot Guzmán a wicked look, hoping he catches on. He simply grins. Damn his smile is gorgeous, but already I despise him.

"Oh yes, basketball is a sport I love. As well as rugby, and such and such." Guzmán replies and everyone continues to their casual banter. I notice his brothers whispering to one another, chuckling.

"Nadia, I'd like you to meet my young friends who are successful in the fashion industry," Crisanto smiles at me, pointing to the gentleman with the dark blue suit and wavy brown hair. I can tell he is a model because how charming he is.

"This is Nathaniel Gray, he models for Calvin Klein. The fellow next to him is his friend, Austin, accompanied by their companion, Eleanor Steel, who is a photographer.

I wave to them and they give me friendly smiles, but I can tell they weren't really interested in the acquainting business. The waiters reveal our meals which consist of steak, lobster, salads, vegetables, fruits, and my personal favorite beverage besides lemon water and wine.

The night had went on and on about business talk and getting familiar with one another. The boys kept cackling to jokes most of the time, and I would occasionally talk to my suite mates. Carla was busy flirting with a guy named, Joseph, who was more than alluring on his part

Throughout dinner, Guzmán stayed quiet and kept to himself. He didn't make any snarky comments, or made an attempt to bother me. Every time I talked, he just...watched me. Maybe he didn't think I noticed him, or felt him looking at me. Or maybe, he didn't care if I did...

"So, Nadia, please do tell us a little bit more about yourself." Nathaniel asks, taking a sip of wine from his glass.

"There's not really much to know about me." I nervously reply. Being the center of attention was never my favorite thing to be.

"Please, enlighten us." Nathaniel insists and I sigh to myself. Guzmán is fully focused on me and I can feel the anxiety brewing within me.

"Well, I'm from Madrid, Spain, born and raised. I love singing and photography, as well as writing. Um, I'm in my last year of college at NYU, majoring in English and hope to one day publish a story of my own. I'm Twenty-one years old, and I have a loving family who I am thankful everyday for." I tell everyone and notice Guzmán has turned his attention somewhere else, burying a smile under his hand pressed against his lips.

"Well that was a perfect little bio if I ever heard one. Nice to meet you, Nadia." Nathaniel says and I smile and mentally pat myself on the back. I take a quick glance at Guzmán who drinks his wine. As soon as I look away to down the rest of my glass of wine, I think I hear him say, "This should be fun."

"What did you say?" I look at him. I meant for it to come out more with authority but I sounded like a timid school girl.

"Nothing, Princess," Guzmán grins while standing. "Enjoy your meal." he winks and walks away from the table, leaving the dining hall. Crisanto watches him leave and I pour me more wine and continue eating.

I really wonder what goes on in Guzmán's head. I sigh. So far I have survived the ongoing night. Let's see how it ends.

...

AFTER DINNER ENDED everyone said their fair-wells and goodbyes to one another. Carla kept flirting with Joseph, and the other girls were a trying to keep their drunken behavior managed until they got back to the suite. Crisanto had got into his white limousine hosted by William, and had left for the airport. The house is now officially in the supervision to me and his sons. Honestly, I don't know which terrifies me the most.

I stroll around outside on the balcony after getting changed into more comfortable clothes to sleep in, which is just a typical silky white gown. My hair in a messy bun and I am so glad to have all that make-up off my face. I put on my reading glasses and make me some tea to soothe me. I figure I'll take this peaceful moment to enjoy the night air. I tip toe outside onto the balcony while the the girls are asleep l in their rooms.

I take in the fresh late spring air. The breeze cool, just right, soothing and running across me. The balcony is big and acts as a perfect view for most of the enormous backyard of the white mansion. I see the tennis court, the basketball court, the swimming pool, the green house, and the walking trail that stretches into a land of tall trees amongst the meadow between the mansion and the woods.

I lean on the ledge of the stone balcony guarded by more white lions. Below, I notice someone standing near the swimming pool. He just stands there, looking at the large pool illuminated with the lights beneath it. I set my cup on the ledge and watch him. It's of course, Guzmán, to no surprise. I just watch him. What is he doing? Why do I care?

I continue to watch as he mindlessly watches the pool with his hands in his pocket. Then, to my surprise, Guzmán begins to slowly undress, taking off his clothes peace by peace. His skin is open to the night air. He pulls down his pants, kicking of his shoes and sliding off his socks. Finally, the biggest shock, is that he slides off his black name brand boxers and tosses them to the side. Oh my god, he's naked! Skinny dipping at that!

I can't help but to notice how his physique is literally godly, Greek defined for sure. The shape of his rear even, it's unearthly. I blush at the sight and I want to look away. In fact, I even turn my head...but instinctively, I find myself looking back.

He rakes his fingers through his hair and I am mesmerized by the intensity of his back muscles. He must work out. A lot. Catching me off guard, Guzmán turns his head back towards where I stand and I quickly duck to the floor of the balcony. I peak at him, seeing him turn back around and I cautiously stand back up. I watch as he dives into the now disturbed water, swimming naked and proud without a care in the world.

taglist: @inmyarmsyoufell @elitestan @glamorizing @jasminejc4525

[pompompurin1028]

Ok, I just finished "The Setting Sun" and wow I may have read a little too fast towards the end because I was so excited and eager to finish but I'm very much in awe of the whole novel. I hope you don't mind if I just put down my thoughts about it :')

Ig I should put a SPOILER WARNING and obviously, there's:

TW: Mentions of suicide

First off, my opinions of the main cast:

I honestly had very neutral feelings towards Naoji in the beginning but shortly after his suicide and his note to Kazuko I felt that I understood him a lot more. Maybe it was partly because the story took place in Kazuko's POV that I had a more discontented viewpoint of him but afterward I felt I understood him more as a person.

With Kazuko, I personally liked her character and the fact that she didn't seem like she was written to be the "perfect woman" like I've seen in some novels. She has flaws and I think her love for her mother is something I found interesting. Although towards the end, I felt that her love for Mr. Uehara sort of anchored her down.

Kazuko and Naoji's Mother was honestly my favorite character of the whole series. I adored her from start to finish. All the way from when she was first introduced she had a sophisticated and genuinely kind aura and when she died I honestly felt a little part of me die as well, haha. But her last line in the book: "It must have been a terrible rush for you" pulled my heartstrings a lot.

Secondly, I just wanted to ramble about some of my favorite quotes from the book lol

The first quote I highlighted was a line Kazuko says: "...The ones who die are always the gentle, sweet, and beautiful people." Which honestly felt so Dazai-like. In both the case of Dazai-sensei and the BSD version of him. There were so many times I wondered if it was the character speaking or Dazai-sensei himself adding himself into the character.

Another one I liked was "I wonder how it would be if I let go and yielded myself to depravity." I don't really have a comment on it, I just sort of liked it lol.

I highlighted so many in all honesty but I also wanted to point out this one: "The dying are beautiful, but to live, to survive--those things somehow seem hideous and contaminated with blood." Again, it just seemed so beautifully raw and just something I envision BSD Dazai saying and believing as well.

In Naoji's suicide note I almost felt as though it was coming from not just him but from Dazai-sensei as well. Which I'm beginning to see is a recurring pattern in the novel. In particular, this one line stood out to me: "Why must I go on living after what has happened? It's useless. I am going to die. I have a poison that kills without pain. I got it when I was a soldier and have kept it ever since."

I loved the Snake Metaphors(?) throughout the story. And especially Kazuko and Naoji's POV of their mother and how they call her "the last lady of Japan" I think they truly honor her and it's interesting to see such two somewhat lost and "tainted" characters almost obsess over this "light" and genuinely kind woman they hold in such high regard. It almost reminds me of BSD Dazai's opinion of Odasaku or even Atsushi.

That's mostly it- I just really wanted to talk about those things and overall I loved it a lot. It's been a while since I've been so absorbed in a book so reading it felt very relaxing and at the same time so riveting. I hope you don't mind me popping into your inbox and chattering on about this :')

Okay, before I begin, Ariel please don't apologize for putting down your thoughts here. I love discussing Dazai-sensei's novels, and I can't even begin to express how giddy, excited and overjoyed I am to receive this ask of yours. And please if you would ever like to discuss more of his works, feel free to chat with me as well, via asks or on discord it doesn't matter😭❤, I'm always down for it. And this whole thing is me rambling over this so please bear with me haha.

And, I want to say, I was extremely eager to read and finish the novel as well as I continued on reading. It is strangely alluring and compelling. And honestly, I tend to be in awe of Dazai-sensei's thoughts and writing as well😫💕.

Okay, so before I begin to address your thoughts on the novel. Let me write down some background information on the novel to hopefully give you maybe a better understanding of it and Dazai-sensei as well?

The book was published in 1947, not long after the end of the Second World War which ended in 1945. The book in general talks about the state of Japan after the Second World War, and the decline of the aristocracy that came with it. (It should be noted that Dazai-sensei came from an aristocratic background as well, but he also seems to have a sense of shame towards it). The title of the book is literally a metaphor for the decline of Japan. Japan is often known as the "land of the rising Sun", and therefore "The Setting Sun" as the title is fitting for this theme.

And well, this defeat created according to here (an article written in Chinese unfortunately😥) caused a great change in moral values in the Japanese society, which caused an uproar for democracy. Dazai-sensei, however, was quite critical of this, as he sees this as a sign that the Japanese do not feel any guilt or remorse for their actions in the war that took place. (From what I've read Dazai-sensei in his works is very much known for his sense, albeit unusual for Japanese writers from what I read, of guilt, remorse and in a sense seeking for atonement, in one of his prose he even wrote that he writes literature for "remorse, confession and reflection" [my translation from my native language]).

Also, it should be noted that The Setting Sun is also deeply inspired by a diary written by one of Dazai-sensei's lovers (especially chapters 1 to 5 I believe). However, Dazai-sensei himself is best known for his I-novels and their semi-biographical elements. In one of his short stories, or prose in his book I am reading, he confesses that he cannot write things he doesn't know or hadn't felt for himself...

Now onto your thoughts on the novel!

Naoji, I honestly felt the same about him at first, but the more I dove into the novel, especially in the chapters Moonflowers and his note to Kuzuko, I felt more connected to him. And when I read the novel I felt as though Dazai-sensei had actually reflected a part of himself in Naoji, and I read something from what @/bsd-bibliophile had said which confirmed that perhaps Naoji was in a sense an extension of Dazai-sensei himself. (Same for Mr. Uehara I should note, who is also an extension of Dazai-sensei, which I had also noted as well when reading the novel).

And yes! I loved Kuzuko as well, and I have to agree with your statement about her love for Mr. Uehara. I was somewhat disappointed with that as well. But I actually had just been reading on something today which is a bit interesting. However, I do not know enough on the topic yet, nor am I entirely confident at myself explaining it at the moment, but I will talk about it briefly down here.

CW Religious Mentions [Christianity] (Feel free to skip if it makes you uncomfortable <3 For this is simply for literature analysis uses)

Before I begin, I should note that Dazai-sensei is by no means a "religious person", many scholars do not believe so either. It was mentioned in a paper that he even holds a critical view of the Church. However, Dazai-sensei commonly mentions the Bible in well the prose of his that I am currently reading (which brought me to research this topic). It was written in some papers that I am reading that he simply understood the Bible through his own means and not what the Church says (perhaps he sees it as a piece of literature as well in a sense...). Some papers say that he formed his unique views of the need to find "atonement" for his own guilt due to this, which some say is not often seen in Japanese authors.

I'm getting off-topic, but what I'm trying to say is that some scholars say that that action by Kuzuko might've been an allusion in a sense. But what the paper was trying to say was that it was meant to be something powerful? But, personally, I'm not sure what I think of it, it might be a bit far-fetched. But I just wanted to make a note of it.

End of CW

And yes! I do agree I loved their mother as well. I loved how genuine and kind she was. I think she is my favourite too, but she also acted as a form of symbolism for the theme of the novel I believe, which I will talk about briefly later on.

"...The ones who die are always the gentle, sweet, and beautiful people."

I really liked this quote too actually! And yes, I can definitely see Dazai-sensei saying this... It is hard to tell which part is him confessing, but most of his work tends to have elements of his own feelings and thoughts. Personally, I think it might be Dazai-sensei himself speaking... But I'm not sure, but it should be noted that Dazai-sensei held the concept of "tenderness" in high esteem (other people have also mentioned it here).

And honestly, I get what you mean when you say you don't know what to say about it haha. Sometimes authors just put sentences and words together so beautifully.

And yes, I definitely understand that! I felt that as well, and as I said, Dazai-sensei seems to have put elements of himself into Naoji...

And ahh the snake metaphor! I read on it a bit before, and some say that it might've been symbolizing the decline of Japan/the aristocracy. And the use of the term "the last lady of Japan" seems to symbolize the fall of the old traditions of Japan. It had seemed to me that their mother was a symbol of the "old Japan" that had fallen after the war.

And yes, they do hold her in very high esteem! I wrote that in my analysis as well before! From what I have read, Dazai-sensei does seem to hold such people highly, especially those that are honest and genuine it seems. And yes, exactly, it reminds me of BSD Dazai as well T^T.

And please, thank you for coming over to chat with me about it haha. You could probably tell by how long this is how excited I am about such topics😅. Don't hesitate to come by if you want to chat more! And I'm also really glad that you liked the book as well <33

[chris-evans-indian-fanfic]

Merchant of Death

One-Shot

Description: Mob!Thanos is a collector of the most precious things in the world. But what happens when his eyes upon you?

Warning - Mentions of violence and beheading

Words- 5400~

This one-shot is my entry for @sweater-daddiesdumbdork 's writing challenge. I used the following image prompt. Check out this link to participate in the challenge!

My Main Masterlist

I don’t consent to have any of my work published or featured on any third party app, website or translated. If you are seeing this fanfiction anywhere but Tumblr, it has been reposted without my permission. In that case, please do share the link and let me know.

…

Nobody knew his real name. Nobody cared. Named after the Greek God of death himself, Thanos was modern day's omen of slaughter. Being the leader of one of the oldest mob families in New York, Thanos commanded a certain level of respect amongst his peers. It wasn't just that his heritage was daunting. His towering height, broad shoulders, vast expanse of muscled torso and legs were enough to intimidate even the toughest of the fighters. Always dressed in an impeccably crisp suit, his bald head, sharp eyes and a strong, set jaw easily gave the impression that he was the owner of a multi-billionaire corporation.

It wouldn't be wrong to call his drugs and weapons empire a well-oiled corporation. His 10 fingers were dipped in blood in multiple countries throughout the seven continents, yes even in Antarctica. 

Thanos was a well-known figure. Everybody knew who he was, knew what he did, but nobody, not even the law authorities, could ever connect him with any illegal activity, be it harbouring and selling of illegal guns and drugs, or smuggling goods to his centres across the globe.

For all his wrongdoings, Thanos did donate 10% of his revenue to the poor, the homeless, the downtrodden. Almost like a twisted version of Robinhood, where he ripped off the rich with highly priced drugs and paid a part of the amount to the poor.

For this reason, there were two sides of him which were portrayed in the media, those who earned his favour called him Messiah of the Poor, while the others who had witnessed his ire addressed him as the Merchant of Death. But in both the iterations, it had been made ample clear that nobody could make Thanos bleed.

That's why it came as a shock when the Chief of Police, Steve Rogers, had managed to shoot Thanos in an encounter. Looking at their leader fall to the ground, Thanos' men commenced their feral attack on the protectors of the law, driving them back. 

The bullet had pierced his left forearm, but hopefully hadn't made it far into his body, thanks to the bulletproof vest sewn into the jacket. 

His men rushed him to the nearest hospital as he put pressure on the wound. 

...

Being the night of 31st December, the ER was more crowded than usual, with drunk idiots involved in car accidents, accidental weapon discharges, or some even sustaining injuries by bursting fire crackers at a close range. 

You silently cursed yourself. Yeah saving lives was noble and all, but spending the entire New Year's Eve in the hospital, surrounded by blood and equally bloody cries of their families and friends really got on your nerves at times.

You steeled yourself as you entered the operation theatre (OT) for another surgery. This moron's druggie friend had shot him in the chest because he thought he was someone else. This would be a complicated surgery, as the bullet was deep inside the muscle, almost touching the heart. One miscalculation could result in more complications.

Halfway through the surgery, you heard a commotion outside the OT. Furrowing your head, you tried to concentrate, but the noise grew louder. You focused your mind on removing the bullet. As if choreographed, your instrument touched the bullet just as a gun was fired right outside your door. 

Your colleagues jumped, but you set your concentration on removing the piece of metal from this man's body. 

The doors to the OT were kicked open as a tall, thin man entered weilding a gun, asking for you. Your staff promptly pointed at your bent figure. 

You were still focused on extracting the bullet when the gun cocked next to your ear, "C'mon out Doctor, we need you to treat our boss," Maw commanded you.

Ignoring him, you carefully pulled the metal upwards, looking at the live scan feed on the screen for direction. 

"I don't think you heard me Doctor. Leave this man and come with me. Our boss needs you. I will not repeat myself," warned Maw, his venomous voice laced with concern for his boss.

You did not move.

When he pressed the gun to your forehead, your staff gasped in terror, but you refused to budge.

As soon as the damned bullet was out, you dropped it onto a tray along with your gloves, instructed your staff to stitch up the wound, and wordlessly looked at the greasy-haired Maw. 

He beckoned you to follow him into Thanos' room where he was being prepped for surgery. You saw Dr Yellowstone tending to him as you approached. "I am sorry Doctor, I told them that you were in a surgery but..." you brushed him off, asking to see the preliminary reports. Dr Yellowstone explained that the bullet wound wasn't deep, and that a simple surgery headed by him would have sufficed, but they were insistent to get you to do the surgery. 

"Of course," Maw's sickeningly smooth voice was back in your ear, "We wanted someone who's the best for our boss. And you are the best surgeon in the entire state, aren't you Doctor?" he asked with a sneer.

You continued to ignore him, coordinating with your staff. As Thanos was put in a wheelchair, Maw pulled out his gun again, cocking it near your forehead, "Our boss better be able to move that hand again miss, or tonight will be the last time you use both your hands."

That threat pushed you over the edge. All evening and night of dealing with insensitive jerks like this guy over here had finally made you snap. 

You turned towards him, looked at the barrel of his gun and slapped him right across his cheek. 

Whether it was the force of your slap, or the fact that your assault had been completely unexpected, nobody could tell, but Maw staggered backwards, his free hand resting on his long reddening cheek where you had struck him. 

Thanos jerked in attention at your action. His pain seemed forgotten as he looked at you. Your plump figure stood tall as you glared at Maw. 

"Put that gun away or there's more where that came from," you warned him spitefully. 

"Nurse, take him to the OT. Dr Yellowstone, coordinate with the blood bank, we might need extra blood. I will see to it that the anesthesia is ready to administer," you left the room after instructing your team. As if you were going to wait around to witness the reaction of Thanos's right-hand man.

In the OT, you saw Thanos' large figure laid on the bed. You approached him with the anesthesia, but he held your hand with his uninjured arm. "Don't," he spoke in his thick voice. "It will hurt. The pain might lead to further complications," you explained. "No. I want to feel your touch," he said simply.

You rolled your eyes and cringed on the inside.

As the surgery began, Thanos kept his dark eyes on you. Neither once did he wince with pain, or avert his gaze. Ignoring him, you set about to remove the bullet from his arm, a quick procedure. 

"Dr Yellowstone," you said from behind your mask, "stitch the wound and dress it."

"Where are you going?" Thanos asked you plainly, as if you both were sitting in a coffee shop. You ignored him and removed your gloves as Dr Yellowstone approached the patient. 

Thanos moved his arm, "No. You will not. She will," he nodded towards you. 

Audibly groaning, your assistant helped you in wearing a new pair of gloves.

Finally, with the wound stitched and dressed, you left the OT to tell Maw the good news.

…

3 hours after the surgery, Thanos looked at your file while resting on his bed. Compiled by Maw, this file had every detail of your life, no matter how minute. You had captured his attention unlike anything else, anyone else. He flipped through the pages, learning more about your family, friends, hobby, and profession. 

His member twitched when he saw your images from social media. Beneath the doctor's coat, you were plump, curvy and thick, just the way he liked his women. He paused, drinking in your appearance in a swimsuit. Placing a finger on your face, he slowly traced your outline, his finger respecting every bump, every bend till he reached your covered mound. He pressed it, as if hoping to see you react, but you kept on smiling in the image. 

Eyes heavy with sleep, he looked around his room. His quiet quarters screamed with opulence. Decorated with the world's most expensive marble, motifs covered in 24k gold, diamond chandelier and Persian rugs, his room paid homage to some of the priceless wonders of the planet. But looking at them now, Thanos realised that none held a candle next to you. 

As he settled in to sleep, he smirked. You would make a nice addition to his room.

…

A week later, Thanos surprised his men by driving himself to your hospital. He had taken an appointment, afterall, his wound needed to be checked.

He knocked on your cabin door, entering only when you said to. He smiled warmly at your startled expression, standing patiently next to the chairs across your desk. 

"Dione," he interrupted you, "Please call me Dione."

You gathered yourself quickly, "Mr Thanos I-"

He smiled cheekily, he knew he had struck at the right place, at the right time. Extending his arm, he reached out for your palm, holding it gently in his. "Please come in. You must be tired," he said, leading you into your own house. 

You squinted your eyes. You remembered reading the strange name on your list of appointments today. "What can I help you with Mr Dione?"

Thanos smiled. He liked the way his name rolled off your lips. "May I take a seat?" You nodded.

Thanos barely fit in the chair, his vast thighs almost bulging out from the sides of the chair. "I think my wound needs to be redressed."

"I thought Maw said he had the best doctors at your beck and call," you spat at him.

"I owe you an apology," he said slowly, "Maw's behaviour that night was appalling, to say the least. I have never hurt or intended to hurt healthcare workers. I regret his actions. Please accept my sincere apologies."

Thanos or Dione, surprised you for the second time that day. His acknowledgement of his staff's misbehaviour left you dumbfounded.

He cleared his throat, "As I was saying, I think my wound needs to be redressed." He turned to his side as much as he could, and displayed the bloodied bandage on his arm. 

You asked him to sit on the patient's examining bed in your office and unwrapped his bandage.

"Does it bleed everyday?" you asked.

"No, it started bleeding today. As soon as it did I thought I should visit you."

Thanos looked at you closely. He studied every contour of your face. His right hand fought the urge to cup your cheek and pull you closer to him.

You traced the wound on his left arm and straightened your back, fully aware of his intense gaze on you. 

"Mr Thanos…,"

"Mr Dione, please," he interrupted you.

"Mr Thanos," you asserted, "This wound has been reopened by a knife. And judging by the angle of the cut, I think it was you who did it," you stared at his eyes.

He whispered your name, "I just wanted to see you again."

"It's Dr (Y/N) for you," you spoke sharply, "I will fix this wound now. But if you inflict harm upon yourself again, then I will not be able to help you."

Thanos saw you grab your kit and come near him, "I think we got off on the wrong foot."

"I don't think there was any foot involved, Mr Thanos. The only things that were involved were a gun and my palm on Maw's cheek."

He chuckled softly at the memory. He loved the fire burning in your eyes. He wanted to see what would you look like burning up on his bed, riding waves of pleasure with him.

"Let me make it very clear, because people like you need to get everything spelled out for them," the venom dripping from your words brought his attention back to you, "I do not want to be involved with you Mr Thanos. I have no intention of being a mobster's trophy girlfriend. If you are really thankful for what I did, then you will leave me alone and never set a foot in this hospital again. Have I made myself clear?" you stared at his hungry eyes as you finished bandaging him.

Nobody on the entire planet, not even the President himself, dared to speak with Thanos in that tone. And here you were, staring him down as if he was worthless. It only made him hungrier, knowing that claiming you would be the sweetest reward he can give himself.

…

The rest of the week was thankfully uneventful for you. On Saturday night, you slowly climbed the stairs to your floor, feeling relieved. At least you had the whole of tomorrow to relax. 

Reaching your apartment, you found the door unlocked. You stepped backwards, deciding to call the police from your building's security office. 

Just then, your door swung open and a smiling Thanos cheerfully greeted you, "Welcome home doctor! Dinner is almost ready. Why don't you take a relaxing hot bath? I have already filled your tub with warm water."

After the exhausting week you had, you had never expected to find Thanos in your home, cooking dinner and preparing a bath. All you could do was stare at him with your mouth open, his black pants draping his thighs perfectly, the blue shirt hugging his muscled arms and torso as if second skin and to top it all, he was wearing your apron, the one with the cute pandas on it. The apron didn't even cover the distance between what you guessed were his nipples.  

"I am not Thanos. I am Dione," he voice sounded sincere, "You asked Thanos to leave you alone, not Dione."

You barely felt his touch as he held your palm, again astonished at how gentle this huge beast of a man can be. 

He locked the door behind you, took your purse and coat and knelt to untie your shoelaces. You jumped back at that gesture, finally coming to your senses. "What… what are you doing?" you managed to ask.

He looked up at you, "Wouldn't you be more comfortable if your shoes were removed?" 

"No."

"No?" Thanos asked.

"Yes, I mean no. No, I meant what…"

Thanos shook his head, amused as he reached down to untie your shoes, ignoring your protests. He got up slowly, his body a mere inch away from yours. He held your eyes with his as he reached behind your head, unclipping your hair. He stood mesmerized as your hair fell down your shoulders, his hand massaging the spot where they were bunched up on your scalp. 

You purred at his ministrations, your eyes suddenly widening as you heard the sound escape your lips. He let you move back as you held his gaze. Why did he have to be so goddamn attractive?! 

You closed your eyes. No he's a mobster. You cannot be involved with him. No. No. No. Control yourself.

After that evening, you saw Thanos, (or Dione, you didn't really care) everyday in your home. You saw him first thing in the morning as he cooked you a hearty breakfast, and the last person for the day when he made dinner and tucked you in your bed.

You opened your eyes. You can do this. "Thanos and Dione are the same person. I don't want to be involved with you. Leave. Right now," you half-heartedly snarled, reaching for the door. But he put a hand on the lock first, stopping you. 

"They aren't the same person. Thanos would never cook for anyone, even for himself. He wouldn't tolerate your disrespectful tone and arrogance. But I am. I want to-"

"Excuse me? Arrogance?" you cocked an eyebrow, "Do you realise the amount of shit I have had to go through after I operated on you? The FBI, CBI, Police and God knows what came pounding down my doors, accusing me of harbouring and aiding a criminal."

"I am well aware," he admitted tersely, "I have made sure that you will not be bothered again."

Your eyes widened as his words sunk in, "Did you kill them?" you whispered, your hands immediately flying to your mouth.

"I didn't," he stated.

A frown formed on your face as you tried to unpack his confession. "Did Thanos get them killed?" you asked with purpose.

Just then, the oven's timer chimed. "Ahh, dinner is ready. I made your favourite lasagna. There's also garlic bread and a cucumber mint salad. Do you still want to take a bath before dinner?" he asked casually as if he hadn't murdered a squad of officers. 

Sensing your hesitation, he came over to you, and stepped in your space, "Give me a chance," he urged, "I am not the monster they paint me to be. Allow me to show you who Dione is. Let me cherish you. I promise, as long as I am with you, I will not indulge in any criminal activity. Please. Give us a chance," he finished earnestly, taking both your palms in his hands.

You slowly raised your eyes to meet his, breathing in his luscious, musky scent. His hand caressed your cheek, weaving through your hair as he pulled you closer, delicately. His soft exhale on your lips weakened your knees. But he stopped. The handsome bastard was waiting for you to come closer. 

"I will walk a 1000 steps to reach you," he whispered quietly, "if you just take one towards me."

His other hand started a torturous journey up your arm, his touch feather light. His thumb slowly traced the outline of your bottom lip, coming to rest behind your head. 

For a second, you were lost in his ministrations. For a second, you wanted to give in to the stillness of the night. 

But a loud crash, and a woman's blood-curdling scream interrupted your peace. You jumped, looking in the direction of the noise. Thanos followed your gaze and smiled. He hummed with satisfaction, "Where were we?"

You shook out of his gentle grip and headed towards the direction of the commotion. As you peered down your window, you let out a scream. Down on the road, the body of a SWAT agent was sprawled on top of an indented car. It seemed as if he had fallen off the top of your neighbouring building. 

Coming up behind you, Thanos vowed, "I would never engage in illegal activities when I am with you. But Thanos will destroy the world if that's what it takes to protect you."

…

Breakfast in Milan, luncheons in Athens and late night hot chocolate in Paris was enough to sway even the most heartless of the human beings. But you were still on your toes, waiting for this dream to turn into an ugly nightmare. 

That wasn't all. He started buying you groceries, and even basic amenities like toothpaste and hairbrush. Your eyes nearly bulged out of your head when you saw that he had even replenished your tampons.

For all his drawbacks, you couldn't ignore the fact that he never touched you without your consent. He treated you with respect, and cared for you as if you were made with glass. Some nights, when you came home unbelievably late, he was ready to massage your aching feet, while patiently listening to you rant about your day.

The time you spent with him almost felt domesticated. But you knew it was borrowed. Time went by and you started accompanying him on his trips as he refused to let you stay behind. You saw very little of Maw on these trips. Instead his other henchwoman, Proxima, was assigned to you. 

"What is holding you back?" he asked you one day, as he brought dinner to your room in Venice, overlooking the city. "I have expressed my love for you in as many ways as I could," his eyes roamed over your body, "I think I have managed to strike the perfect balance between Thanos and Dione. I have done good on my promise to make sure you never see the ugly side of my business. Then why do you still refuse to come to me?"

You looked at him with a frown, "What makes you think I do not see the ugly side of your business? Do you know the amount of drug overdose cases we get in a day?"

Thanos looked out the window, "All those people are aware of the ill-effects of drugs. If they still choose to take it, then how does that make me the villain? Somebody else will sell the drugs if I don't."

"Really? That's your justification? So you owe nothing to the people whose lives are destroyed by your drugs and guns? What about the poor? The young who are addicted to your substance?" you argued in an accusing tone.

"I donate 10% of my earnings to them. But I can't help everyone," he justified.

Thanos chewed in silence as he considered your words, "Will you give yourself to me if I donate half of my wealth?" he looked at you after a few moments.

"10% is not even a dip in your ocean of riches Dione. You want to talk about striking a balance? Then donate 50% of your wealth to those who actually need the money. Auction off your antiques, your collectibles. Build schools, donate to NGOs, be good and help the people, the portion of the society who needs you the most," you tried to convince him.

You softly pushed your plate away, "No amount of charity can justify the killings Dione."

As Thanos gripped his fork tighter at your words, you swore you saw the metal bend. "I have to do what needs to be done to protect you. Even if it means spilling the blood of a few agents of the law. Do you think they will protect you from me? You are nothing but a source of information for them. As soon as they are done with you they will toss you aside like useless garbage. Your identity, your entire life will be erased from the record. You don't want me to protect you like that? Okay. Then what would you have me do?" he demanded an answer.

You met his gaze, your silence filling the conversation with words.

"I cannot just quit. I have spent my whole life building this empire and I am not about to give it up," he claimed through gritted teeth.

"But what did it cost you?" It was your turn to surprise him with your question. 

"Everything," he admitted, "and more. But this was all I have ever had. There was no reason for me to leave this-"

"You do have a reason now," you interrupted him. 

You dragged your chair towards Thanos and sat beside him. Placing a hand on his heart, you kept your eyes on him. "You have a reason now," you repeated in a whisper. 

You saw a myriad of emotions cross his eyes. Taking advantage of his astonishment, you kissed his shoulder and rested your forehead on it. You felt his heart beating faster. 

Thanos was glad your head was on his shoulder, as he didn't want you to see the tears in his eyes. This was the first time you had initiated any form of affection towards him. He held your hand, the one on his heart, and kissed it with a promise.

…

Officer Natasha Romanoff hurried towards Steve Rogers' office. She entered without knocking. 

"Hey there! Knock before you-" Tony Stark, the Weapons Contacter tried to speak before Natasha cut him short.

"Steve, you need to hear this," Natasha looked at him. 

In the last few months, thanks to Steve's bravery in the shoot-out with Thanos's men, he had been promoted to the highest ranking covert field agent at the FBI. 

Steve nodded, requesting Tony to reschedule the meeting. As soon as they had the privacy, Natasha filled him in on the news. "Thanos is donating 50% of his wealth to charities and NGOs across the country. He's moving with his girl to Mauritius."

"He's building a new base there?" Steve cocked an eyebrow.

"No, he's retiring. If he gets on that plane then we will lose him forever."

"Hmmm," he considered her words, "I have a plan."

…

Thanos had advised you against going back to your apartment, arguing that all of your stuff was already packed and on the way to the flight. But you were relentless. You had to go back to retrieve a piece of your legacy which you were sure his men must have missed. 

He watched in amazement as you removed the photo frame from your wall and tore the wallpaper, revealing a cavity inside. 

You retrieved a box, wiping the dust off of it. Walking towards Thanos, you opened the box to reveal 6 rings. "These belonged to my grandfather. He always believed that there are six traits that make a man. He gave me these rings on his deathbed, and asked me to pass it on to the man who I deemed worthy." Pointing to the ring with the purple stone, you recited your grandfather's words, "Be with a man who commands Power," yellow stone- "But make sure he has a kind Soul," orange stone- "He should be able to read your Mind," green stone- "However, he must know the value of Time," red stone- "He should be able to accept his Reality," and lastly, the blue stone- "But, he should give you the world, the galaxy, the entire Space, if need be."

Holding out the box for him, you presented him with the rings. You smiled indulgently as you wiped his tears. He took your hand in his, kissing your fingers, your palm, your wrist. You laughed as he hugged your hand, "This is the second most precious gift I have ever been given."

You tilted your head, puzzled, "What is the most precious gift?"

"You."

…

Steve saw you and Thanos exit the building, hand in hand like two lovestruck teenagers. "Team Alpha, if you have a clear shot take it. But do not fatally wound him. We need him alive. I repeat, we need him alive. Team Omega, standby for the extraction. Team Beta, grab the First Aid Kit as soon as the Patient is hit" he commanded into the walkie-talkie using their codewords for you and Thanos.

"You still haven't told me where are we going," you pouted slightly as you walked towards the car. "Patience love, all in good time," Thanos smiled down at you. "This is White Wolf Team Alpha, firing in 3...2...," Bucky spoke in his earpiece.

"Wherever we are going, I can't wait to spend the rest of my life with you," you spoke. "...1." You suddenly turned to face Thanos, and started walking backwards, your hand still in his. 

The bullet pierced the space above your heart, before colliding with Thanos's bulletproof vest. Gunshots reduced to dull thuds around you as you collapsed in Thanos's arms, your blood staining his shirt. 

You didn't notice when he carried you to the car. You didn't notice the speeding car coming to a halt. All you could hear was his panicked voice, and feel his pounding heart.

"Maw why are we stopping?" Thanos screamed at his henchman.

"Sire, there is a traffic jam ahead. We can't take any other route. There are rows of cars behind us. We are trapped," he said regretfully.

"I don't care! Kill them all, clear the road with explosives. She needs to get to a hospital NOW!" Thanos's voice boomed as panic gripped his heart.

"Sire we can't use explosives, the road might cave in. Proxima is arranging for a mobile hospital as we speak. They should be here soon," Maw spoke with hope.

Cradling you in his arms, Thanos pushed your hair back from your face, "Stay with me. Please stay with me. Don't leave me now. Please… no…"

"Hey," you managed to say in a cracked voice as tears escaped his eyes, "Dione," he looked at you, "I will... always be with you... my love," you struggled to caress his cheek as he held your arm. 

"Please please please no," he pleaded.

You gasped as a new jolt of pain ran through your body, "I… I love you… Di… Dione," you smiled.

A heart-wrenching scream escaped Thanos as he held your lifeless body. His anguish lost in the traffic of vehicles blaring their horns.

…

"Sire," Maw's voice broke Thanos from his reverie. He turned to look at the box in Maw's hand. In the dim light of his room, he opened the lid to see the severed head of James Buchanan Barnes. 

"Steve Rogers has gone underground sire, but we will soon find him," Maw promised. 

"He is not the real problem Maw," Thanos turned back to the window, "Do you remember what the doctor had said? If we would have gotten her to the hospital in time, she would have been alive today."

He paused, looking down the crowded city before him, "She died because we couldn't get her to the hospital earlier. What had caused the traffic jam?"

"Two cars had gotten into an accident, which caused a pile up on the road," Maw explained.

"That pile up wouldn't have occurred 10 years ago. In the last 2 decades, there has been a population boom which has ended up putting a strain on resources. Governments across the world are refusing to tackle this problem and in fact, are boastful of the increase in their population." As if on cue, he saw large groups of people fill up the sidewalk as hundreds of cars poured onto the road, everybody eager to reach home after their workday.

"What do you mean sire?"

"The scales of the world have been tipped unevenly, Maw. Balance needs to be restored to the order of the planet. The rich can't have an endless supply of luxury while the poor scramble for basic sustenance. She was right, we need to help the poor, but we can't wipe out those in power completely."

Thanos looked at the setting sun with determination, "It is time to kill half of humanity."

Maw inhaled sharply, "Sire! How would we manage-"

"The drugs," said Thanos simply, "50% of our cargo will contain lethal drugs till we achieve our target. Distribute it randomly throughout our supply chain for the next 6 months."

Maw paused for a moment. The severity of this crime left him dumbstruck. "Sire," he spoke at last, "She wouldn't have wanted this."

Thanos looked at the 6 rings on his fingers. "She wanted to live Maw. But she couldn't. She always tried to help people as much as she could. This is the only way we can fulfill her wish, by helping people across the globe."

"By killing people across the globe," Maw meekly argued.

"You kill everyday for a living Maw. Why has this idea turned your silver tongue into a knot?"

He could only gulp in response.

"The world needs correction Maw. Now more than ever. The lethal drugs should be shipped from tomorrow onwards. I would find it unpleasant to feed your body to our dogs, if you fail your duty," Thanos' thinly veiled threat hung in the air like a sword. 

Maw bowed down, "As my sire wishes," and left the room in quite a hurry.

Thanos walked towards your painting on the wall opposite to his bed, the only ornamentation in his otherwise desolate room. 

"You will see my love," he cooed, "we will see the sun rise on a grateful world together."

__--__--__--__--__--__--__--__--__--__--__--__--__

Permanent tag: @donutloverxo

Taglist open!

[erenscherub]

does "seasons" have fluff by any chance? this is not to say I don't enjoy reading the angst. I love getting hurt but yeah just curious

Hi Nonnie!

Hmm there are some pieces of fluff and crack (is that word still used nowadays) in some of the earlier chapters. The birthday scene for sure was really fun to write.

I’m gonna be honest with you. Even if it took me several months to write out winter, I can’t believe I wrote this much angst until I published it. Sometimes I wonder what kind of mindset I was in. But then I look at the date the rough drafts were created in my Google docs. And then I’m like February 19… why would I write something like this? Oh wait, that’s when I found out I failed my orgo midterm 😂😂😅

Since it is mainly comfort after hurt so I’ll include a snippet of one of the sweeter moments between the reader and Ellie from an upcoming chapter in fall.

You snapped a few pictures of your daughter in her all white outfit of snow boots, a snow jacket, a scarf, and a beanie before sending it to Eren with a message that you two would be by the lake.

Eliza didn’t mind looking like a puffy marshmallow as long as it made her mother smile. Though in exchange, she insisted on holding onto your phone for the rest of the morning. Her excuse was that you could be stunting her growth as a photographer.

There wasn’t that good reception out here anyway. You decide to spoil her since she actually did have interest in the camera app instead of heading straight to YouTube or Hulu.

She held onto your phone for the rest of the morning to take photos of the trees, to video snowflakes falling, and of course take a few candids of you. As you hear the click of the phone’s camera going off, you stop in your tracks and turn so your daughter can see you sulk.

“Eliza Juno (Y/L/N) Jaeger, you know I hate photos,” you object with your hands on your hips.

Eliza just giggled as she took your hand and stuffed the phone back into the pocket of her parka. “But Momma, you said you wanted me to take pictures of pretty things.” She lets out a cute squeal as you pinch her cheeks. As long as the photos weren’t posted on social media, you guess it wouldn’t hurt to indulge her.

It takes another fifteen minutes to reach the frozen lake after sunrise. And another ten to lace up both of your skates. Eliza had always been a natural at ice skating. You wonder why she’s so adamantly against taking lessons from her father. She has the time and energy to take them. You and Eren have the money to pay for skates and the admission fees to the rink.

Eliza always said no unless you would be skating with her. It was similar to her insistence to stargaze with you every night before bed even if it took five blankets to keep you both warm. Or her habit to rise earlier than seven every morning to watch the sunrise with you before you left for work, even if the gloom of winter prevented any rays of the sun from peaking through.

Eliza just likes the alone time with you. Without any distractions or other people to share your attention with.

Moments like these always make her feel loved.

Because if you were able to make time for her despite the demands of your job, patients, friends, spouse, and just life in general, then that meant you would always be a constant part of her life.

The summer arc will be more lighthearted for sure.

Thank you for taking the time to leave an ask, bubz. Hope to see you again in my inbox and you enjoy future chapters. Sending you all my love, Nonnie!

[utterlyinevitable]

For the Directors Cut - something, everything, or anything about For All the Lies.

And if you don't mind saying, why didn't he keep in touch?

That fic still breaks my heart whenever I think about it ❤️

Ruby, you have no idea how excited I was to get this about FATL 😄 I am gonna re-read and will tell you anything and everything you’d ever wanna know 💗

Starting with the idea... 

It was a dream scene I had with someone I used to know my muse - the two of us meeting after all this time, harboring old unresolved feelings but coming to terms with how life panned out. Some time’s you’re just not meant to be with someone and there’s a greater happiness out there to grasp. 

So I just realized that the first line makes no sense and I should probably change it 😂

I did initially want Becca to be engaged to Bryce but thought better of it. She left her life at Edenbrook behind for a job far away, being with Bryce meant that there was always a possibility for her to come back - an teeny tiny opening where she could potentially fall back into Ethan. The finality of her fiancé being some unknown guy just felt right. Someone whom no one knew existed could finally, actually give her everything she’s always wanted and never knew she needed. 

In my mind Becca accepted the fellowship somewhere between the Gwyneth case and the Senator incident (which ultimately never happened in this timeline). Her and Ethan were getting closer, though for every time he kissed her he’d then be super strict and assert his position as her boss. Very waffley and she was not here for that after 1.5 years. With Edenbrook going under, Ethan being mad at her for turning the team for-profit, and the hospital cutting jobs, Becca did the one thing she knew she could do: used her clout as Dr. Banerji’s savior to secure a fellowship abroad and keep some other Edenbrook doctor off the budgetary chopping block. What really was left in Boston for her anyway? 

She and Ethan had one last night together before she made her decision. He was completely unaware she had even applied, treating the night like any other with them having takeout in his office looking over their respective files. He pushed her away. They had a little fight. The next morning she accepted the position. Ethan found out she was leaving in an email she sent to Dr. Banerji and CC’d him on. He responded with a simple: “Congratulations. I have every faith you will make an invaluable addition to their team.” 

Becca left and got a new local phone number. He could have emailed her personal account, but a part of him was definitely hurt. If she wanted to hear from him she would reach out, he told himself whenever she crept into his thoughts. For Becca it was easier to let go, he’d broken her heart one too many times. And just like him she thought if he wanted her in his life he would have reached out - he did know what new hospital she’d be working at. 

It was Ethan’s turn to feel abandoned, just like he did to her. Except this time she wasn’t coming back. There wouldn’t be a reset button or a chance to do things over in two months when she returned from her sabbatical. His pride took a serious hit. But he still kept tabs on his protégé - he had a google alert with her name. Any time it pinged with a new published work of hers, he was always the first one to order a copy. He missed her but he was so proud of the brilliant doctor he knew she would become.   

Having them meet at Harper’s engagement party was a happy accident, though now I really like how she’s shown how a workaholic can change their habits and find love and happiness. I wanted a place where Bryce and Ethan would definitely be dressed up in suits but nothing involving medicine. It’s also morbidly funny to have Ethan be witness to both the incredible women he lost move on and find happiness in their lives without him. He’s kinda stuck in his small box of ethics and morals. Which as we all know got in the way of his relationships. 

Aurora’s purpose here was to subtly reassert that Bryce is a friend and not fiancé. 

I’d like to think that Ethan felt Becca’s presence the moment she entered the gates on Bryce’s arm. Like even though he was at the back of the garden yards and yards away, somehow he could smell her perfume swirling in the air around him. Unsettling and alert. Then his eyes fell on her and he couldn’t believe it. He inched closer and closer until luckily she was alone and he could muster the courage to face his biggest regret. 

God I wish I could paint the picture that’s in my head of the two of them when she turns around and acknowledges him. It breaks my heart. All that yearning and pent up anxiety and months and months of tears packaged in the faint acknowledgement of “Dr. Ramsey”. Everything just fades away when their eyes lock onto one another and it’s like no time had passed - one week, two years, three decades - none of that mattered in the other’s presence. There’s this underlying feeling that if he was just brave enough to pick up where they left off and saw sorry that she’d forgive him and run away with him. That is, if he had the courage to do that before she committed to another man four months ago. A part of Becca always held onto the idea that he’d find her again. But the moment - no, a about four weeks after her fiancé proposed she finally put her childish crush in the past for good. Where it belonged. 

I like to think that Ethan and Becca were friends. So old times for them would be dancing at a highbrow event he was forced to attend and invited her just because he liked the company, he’d drive her to a shopping center after work sometimes when she needed to get a lot of items she couldn’t carry on the subway, or window shopping during their coffee breaks. 

They were always respectful of the other’s boundaries for the most part. Except when eyes and hands would linger a little longer than they should have. Except for when innocent lip biting became too enticing. Except when they drank a little more than usual and just enough to act on their emotions. Except for when they were at his apartment, and when they recalled the few times they gave in intern year. 

Becca’s hand at his chest is always over his heart. Ever since Miami she’s held his heart in the palm of her hand. Then there’s also the practicality of it being there to push him away if she needed to. 

Ethan knew she was engaged. He heard it through the Edenbrook grapevine and then saw it on Pictagram to confirm the rumor - he hadn’t logged into the damn app since he used it to make sure she landed in her new homeland safely. But having her in his arms now and knowing this fact... it was all so confusing. He couldn’t believe it. One of these had to be fake. He hoped it was the ring on her finger. 

As he twirled it back and forth, both of them were taken aback and just a little guilty. 

She mindfully thanked her fiance for once again knowing her and her needs better than she herself did.  

This is the other bit I put in just to hone that Bryce is not Mr. Becca. 

I went through so many things of what Ethan could say to move the conversation along and literally nothing felt right. As much as I wanted them to jump in and talk about what happened in their absence, the awkward tension between them had to reign supreme. There is no reason these two near-lovers should have been comfortable enough to bare all their insecurities, especially when they still harbor feelings for one another. Though they try to push past it with banter. 

The ghostly smile I imagine on Ethan’s lips when he tells her he read her book. It breaks and warms my heart. And Becca completely not knowing that he would read it? It’s like she never really knew him at all. Of course he was going to keep track of her career no matter what happened in their personal life. This stemmed from the idea that there are people in my life that I’m not close with and haven’t spoken to in years, but I still keep track of them and support their businesses and endeavors. I’m proud to have them as someone I used to know. 

Becca was going to ask him How he was which is why she let him continue his question.  

In this moment Becca recalled every single thing that kept her from reaching out. If she reached out she’d be letting him back in. She’d be letting him break her once more. If Ethan didn’t date her while they were in the same city, there was no way they could have a future if they’re an ocean apart indefinitely. I think this “Ethan...” is more exasperation compared to the later one. 

These two idiots should have confessed how much they love one another ages ago. That way they probably wouldn’t be in this position and she wouldn’t have left to ‘reset’.  

The hand motions between them is everything. Ethan squeezing hers to keep her close, her squeezing back to pull an answer from him. Him going slack in her arms and having to take a step back like the admission knocked the wind out of him. Her moving back into place like a magnet, her hand going back to his heart. His hand going over hers, letting his fingers fall through the cracks. Her immediately balling her hand up so he couldn’t linger in the space she left for him anymore - effectively finally shutting him out and not holding him in her palm anymore. Not holding onto him anymore. 

And then there’s the last three bittersweet lines that kill me every single time. 

That’s all we ever want for someone we care about - for them to be happy, right? If it couldn’t be him because he threw away every single chance she served up to him on a silver platter then Ethan guesses he’s glad it’s a man who know what kind of ring she needed and put a smile on her face. 

[I think I lost the plot of this commentary thing oops]