#But until then it's all fruit all the time | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

bitterchocoo · 1 day

Note

Platonic Boothill with a male reader who is like Arlecchino from genshin impact

Male reader is Boothill's long lost brother

The Water is Fine

Boothill | M. Reader as Arlecchino [Genshin Impact] (Platonic)

----------

"Blood runs thicker than water.."

----------

The children gather in one room as they hear their mother's story. They all look at her in awe, she had told them the story multiple times, but it never gets old. Their mother's story was always wonderful. Once she finished her gaze scanned the children before furrowing her eyebrows. "Where's [Name]? Didn't he want to hear the story?"

"'Scuse me, mother! He's doing a funeral for his spider!" One of the children raised her hand, answering her question. She lets out a sigh at the child's words, her expression showing her concerns. "That child... maybe his curse is flaring up again."

Meanwhile, [Name] crouch down in front of the makeshift grave he had for his beloved spider. How sad.. he looks at it with a blank expression until suddenly someone put a hand around his shoulders. "Hey, [Name]! I bought us cake!!" The other claimed, grinning from ear to ear. In his hand was a box filled with two slices of cake. It looks delicious. "You must know spiders don't eat cake.." "Of course I know that!"

The days spend in the orphanage were always nice, peaceful, quiet. One of the siblings favorite activities were playing tag in the garden. The trees makes great terrain for free running and parkour. Always trying to one up the other. The younger was always full of energy, seemingly excited to explore the world, while the elder was reserved, cold, maybe even cruel but he will have a soft spot for the younger.

Stealing cake from the kitchen, picking fruits straight from the tree, playing tag. Life is.. simple.. fun. The world felt so big..

"Look!" He pointed at the shooting star from their window. His eyes seems to sparkle with joy, his gaze never leaving the starry skies. "One day, we're gonna explore the universe! Travel through the stars! Just you and me!" He says happily, hugging his older brother's arm, the two gaze upon the stars with hopes and dreams. What a beautiful sight.. the sky looks so mesmerizing. The world felt so vast and filled with the unknown. "The two of us could be like Rangers through the vast space! Exploring the universe and upholding justice!"

The elder can't help but smile at the other's words. It's sweet. The though is certainly wonderful. To explore the stars with his younger brother. That truly sounded like a dream. "Yeah, we could do that." "And we could find something for your curse to! Oh just imagine what we could find!"

A child's dream..

..is always so sweet..

So... sickly... sweet..

----------

"Run! And don't you dare look back!"

"But--!"

"GO!"

He ran.. he ran as fast as his legs could carry him.

He run and run.

Like the gingerbread man...

Why...

Why are they fighting..? And for what..? For the title "King"? What is that for? It's just a title. But it seems it means more than that... with his older brother's words. He run.. run as fast as he could. He's fighting isn't he? He's fighting the others isn't he? Why.. why must this be their reality..

He doesn't know what to do.. he wanted to stay with him. But he can't.. his brother told him to run and to never look back.. it's like a game of tag isn't it? Run as fast as you can.. and try not to get caught.. it's just a game.. a simple game... and yet.. and yet...

----------

"The Knave.. may I know why you're at Penacony?"

"I heard Aventurine had caused quite the trouble.. so I'm here to make this up with the Family. Though it could officially be considered a diplomatic conference, I prefer to see our meeting today as an ordinary tea party. I assume you see it the same way, Mister Sunday?"

"Right, of course. It is an honor to have you here.. Mister Knave.."

"Please.. call me, Arlecchino."

"What in the cosmos are these kids doing here?" The question come out as harsh, his accents sounded thick as he dodge an attack from one of them. Those three children.. fighting for what? Father was it..? That's who they're fighting for? What a load of Wubbabbo.

"Careful now.. you can't reason with an outlaw.."

"..Father..?"

A man steps out of the room, his gaze is cold, carrying himself in an elegant way that just screams absolute authority. Their gaze locked on each other for what felt like an eternity, a sense of recognition wash over them, until finally..

"You.. why are you with them?"

"Why? I thought you already know.. leave Penacony. The dreamscape is not meant for outlaws like you.."

Gritting his teeth, the other look at the man with betrayal in his eyes. How could he.. how could he side with the enemy? After what they've done... how could he just.. he could shoot him.. he could shoot him now.. he could kill him now.. and yet.. he can't... he can't just..

Even if he sided with the enemy.. he's still.. they're still..

"Come you three, our work is finish."

'Yes, Father."

The days spend in the orphanage were always nice, peaceful, quiet. Stealing cake from the kitchen, picking fruits straight from the tree, playing tag. Life is.. simple.. fun. The world felt so big..

The House of the Hearth...

.....that was their home...

..until it wasn't...

...it all happened at the same day...

where his older brother...

.....was crowned as "King."

...

Blood runs thicker than water...

..is that why it felt heavy when he saw his older brother walk away with three children by his side? One he had turned into soldiers for the House of the Hearth? For the IPC? Because ultimately....

They too once stand in those three children's positions.. soldiers.. unknowingly, that is..

And now... the "King" is continuing the cycle..

His own flesh and blood that he had looked up to.

#x male reader #x reader #honkai star rail #honkai star rail x reader #honkai star rail x male reader #hsr #hsr x reader #hsr x male reader #hsr boothill #boothill #boothill x reader #boothill x male reader #genshin impact #genshin arlecchino #arlecchino #platonic #house of the hearth #the knave

166 notes · View notes

the-roo-too · 3 days

Note

Hi!! Can I request fluffy alphabets for Yunjin? Thank you💗

candy -> huh yunjin ver

aka the fluff alphabet

admiration (what does she absolutely adore about you)- if you are at least the tiniest bit a musical person, she deffo loves to jam out with you. will force you to try and compose with her probably, even if you only know two chords on the guitar

body (what’s her favourite body part of yours)- yunjin is a hair girlie to me, she likes to play with it—give you cute hair styles if it’s long or just put pretty charms in it if it’s short!

cuddling (how she likes to cuddle)- big spoon ☝️🤓 might fight you for it (secretly loves being the little spoon tho)

dates (what’s her ideal date)- i’m thinking binging some movies late at night (like the greatest showman) and singing your hearts out 🏳️‍🌈

emotions (how does she express her emotions around you)- girlie is an open book around you. musically gifted people are usually very connected with their emotions (and yunjin did go to music school so..)

family (does she want one)- i kinda have mixed feeling about this one. maybe later in life when you’ve both settled down? she doesn’t really give me the kids vibe tho

gifts (what about gift giving)- would absolutely compose an either short ass piece or perform a long ass opera for you and would force you to listen to it 🎀🎀

holding hands (does she like to hold hands)- yes! absolutely! also smooches your hand. i feel like yunjin carries around three different hand creams. also the type to hand you a fruit scented cream in the middle of june and say “it’s fruity, like you.”

injuries (what would she do if you got hurt)- with all due respect, she wouldn’t know what to do 😭 call chaewon? tell manager? order take out?

jokes (does she like to joke around)- yes. as i said, fruity cream, fruity you.

kisses (how does she like to kiss you)- either smooches your face or full on make out session, i don’t make the rules ✊

love (what’s her love language)- passive aggressive affection. you’re grumpy in the morning? too bad, you’re still listening to taylor swift’s whole discography with her

memory (what’s her favourite memory together)- meeting you for the first time! say you two met in a coffee shop while yunjin had a break between rehearsals. the moment your eyes made contact she was doomed lol

nighttime (how does sleeping with her look like)- yunjin 100% steals the blankets. wraps herself in a burrito and you will NOT get them unless she cuddles you close and lets you inside the cocoon

oddity (what’s one quirky thing about her)- to be fair opera singing is kinda weird. like imagine you’re coming home late and night and you whisper shout a soft “yunjin! are you awake?” and she responds with a “HEREEE MY LOVEEEEE” sung loudly 🗣️

pet names (what does she like to call you)- baby girl, with a lip bite. but like “baby gowrlllllll 🫦🫦🫦🫦”

quality time (how does she like to spend time with you)- every time spent with you is quality time for her (and she will rizz you up while saying that)

rush (does she rush into things)- you’re living together by the second week of you dating

secrets (how open is she with you)- open book ‼️‼️ wanna know her father’s dead cat’s name? or what colour was chaewon face when she puked after drinking spilled milk thinking it was yoghurt?

time (how long did it take her to confess)- going with the idea that she saw you at a coffee shop, she would visit that exact place for a straight up week until she saw you again and then shoot her shot 💀

upset (what’s her reaction when you’re upset)- you’re probably upset after a fight, so then she’s upset too. if that’s not the case, if you yell at her because you’re upset, then yunjin will because upset too lol. she’s not the type to apologise first so buckle up!

visibility (is she afraid of the public opinion)- nah. you remember that one post she made for pride some time ago? public opinion’s got nothing on her

warrior (how often do you fight)- i actually thing you might fight quite a lot… 💀 because of the rushing thing. when you two hit like a two year mark or sum, it gets better. but the rushed relationship gets kinda bumpy at first.

x-ray (is she able to read you)- even if you’re not as much of an open book as yunjin is, i think she makes it her goal to know what you’re thinking at all times. like a little personal challenge

yes (how would she propose to you)- most sappy way possible, would take you to a beach and arrange for her members to blindfold you and shit. lead you down to the shore and when you feel the cold water wetting your shoes, that’s when she drops on one knee (yes, in the water) while eunchae takes off the blindfold lol

zen (what makes her feel calm)- cuddles! singing! movies! just casual romantic shit. i said she would say sorry first but she might force you to cuddle her in the middle of the night even if you two just had a massive fight

part of [the fluff series]

86 notes · View notes

appleblueberry-pie · 2 days

Note

Im back with another yandere satoru request hehehe

So, I was wondereding what would happen if Satoru's beloved found out about his very unhealthy obession with her?

Hold on, lemme cook rq- So, instead of getting the fuck away from him (like most logical people would do) she decides to try her best to get him some help. Like, she'd confront him about his very distirbing behavior, (basically tearing down his entire facade and presenting it to him) and when he's begging her not to be afraid of him, not to abandon him, she tells him that she wants him to get help.

Heres where I kinda got a little stuck....the thing is...he would listen to her every beck and call, but would he really get the help he needs, or would he decieve her and trick her into beliving that he's getting better when in realitly he hasn't changed at all. (He's just alot more careful about what he does behind her back.)

Mkayyy, thats all folks. Thanks for coming to my ted talk.

You kept hearing noises from your backyard.

It woke you up. You couldn't really recognize what it was, but you really hoped it wasn't raccoons eating your berries again. You admit, your garden has many fruits and vegetables, but you certainly didn't want them being eaten. They took too long to grow! So, you got out of bed, threw on your robe over your night gown and quickly made your way downstairs to your backdoor.

When you opened the door and stepped onto the grass, everything seemed fine. Your strawberries were intact. Carrots still growing. No lemons dropped from the tree. But to the far right, you did see a familiar figure continuously puncturing another man's insides with a pretty dangerous looking knife thing.

Someone was in your yard.

Someone was being killed in your yard.

You're within distance of a killer.

By the time the realization set in, the familiar looking man had already saw you staring at him. It was Satoru Gojo.

You both stared at each other. It grew painfully silent and you took a step back, your eyebrows furrowing. You began hearing your heartbeat in your ears and began breathing faster. Your lips separated, probably to scream, and Satoru dropped the knife, immediately running over to you to shut you up in time.

When he trapped you in his arms, you tried to scream in surprise, but he already had one of his hands covering the entire bottom half of your face. "SHHHHHHHhhhhhh. shhhhhhhh. shhhhhh." His heartbeat thumped against your upper back and you tried to look up at him. He was already staring down at you with those big blue eyes and you tried to take his hand off of your mouth. "It's okay, baby. You're alright. It's alright."

Well, he didn't kill you, so clearly you didn't have to be scared. You still tried to talk and he tilted his head. "......you gonna scream if I let you go?" You shook your head. He stared down at you, as if he was trying to catch you in a lie. But then he laughed and finally loosened his hold on you. You took his hand off of your mouth and turned around. "...............Why are you killing someone in my yard?"

He says nothing.

You try to look back at the corpse and he blocks your way. "Fertilizer."

You avert your gaze and hug yourself. "For your tree."

"I already fertilized it two weeks ago. You were there. It doesn't need fertilizer until like a few months later." Satoru goes silent and sighs.

"Alright, babe. You caught me." He stalks closer to you and stops when he's directly in front of you.

"I killed him because he was a terrible waste of space." His smile was unnerving and you only felt more uncomfortable and confused. "What....?" "....He was useless. And he got in the way." The way he spoke made things a little awkward between the two of you. Did this have something to do with you and him? You hoped not. But with the way he said it, and the way he was staring at you began giving you confirmation that this was the case.

"He doesn't deserve you like I do." You inhale sharply and take a step back towards your door. "Satoru-" "No, I'm serious."

"You can't just....kill someone. He's dead!" His shoulders shake as he laughs at your statement. "You think I don't know that? That's the whole point. To die." You shake your head, "I-I need to get you help. This isn't okay. You shouldn't think it's okay to kill someone just to....I don't even know."

"To have you," He states. But you didn't hear. You were already back in the house to research different forms of treatment he could possibly receive. You didn't know what you were going to do with the body.

Satoru did plan to use it as fertilizer.

He lied to you for 12 weeks. And he hated every second of it. He never liked hiding shit from you. Which is why he straight up told you that he killed that dumbass from a while ago. You deserve better than some liar. But he'd be damned if he let some random take you away from him. So, he told you that he was going to the therapist that he been paid off and also killed.

He told you the body was taken care of and you didn't have to worry about it. After all, your tree leaves looked perkier than usual(he didn't tell you that either).

When you heard he was consistently meeting with his therapist, you let him take you out more often. You let him hang out at your place to have sleepovers if you had the time, and you realized that you might have a small crush on him. You shouldn't have a crush on a killer, but here you were. You should've called the police on him a long time ago(not like he'd get rid of them either), but he promised you he'd be good. And he has been. So you trust him.

Satoru learned to stop doing things like being a killer when you're around. It was smart to do it at night. But definitely not where you live. Probably the stupidest thing he's ever done. He should buy that house a few towns off. Everyone would be better off dying in there anyways, especially if there'd be no trace of them in the first place.

He's lucky you're gullible.

#yandere #yandere x reader #reader #yandere x you #yandere character #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #yandere jujutus kaisen #yandere satoru gojo #yandere satoru x reader #yandere gojo x reader #yandere jjk #yandere jjk gojo #yandere jjk gojo satoru #yandere satoru gojo x reader

76 notes · View notes

starogeorgina · 2 days

Text

𝐒𝐩𝐨𝐢𝐥𝐞𝐝

The king's queen and hand

Paring: Aegon ii Targaryen × reader × Criston Cole

Warnings: Swearing, smut

Leaning back on the golden plush pillows that were neatly set up on the top of your king-sized bed, noises of pleasure leave you as Cristion starts kissing your neck. Rolling your head to the side, you smile at your husband, who was sitting on a chair beside the bed, his eyes wide with lust as he palms at his cock over his trousers.

A squeal when Criston nips at your nipple,“Oh.”

His lips trace against your rib cage and your stomach. He reaches the sensitive spot just above your navel and sucks a bruise onto your fresh. Criston often left those marks on the inside of your thighs, it was his way of trying to claim a part of you. Criston had become infatuated with you, or ‘cunt drunk’ as your husband put it. As per your husband's orders, the kings hand took his duty of satisfying the queen seriously. He took advantage of any opportunity he got and fill you with his tongue and fingers, but no matter how much you wanted it he never put his cock in, unless Aegon told him to.

“Stop.” Aegon suddenly gets to his feet just as Criston reaches your hip bone. “Lay on your back, Cole.”

You pout, unimpressed. Aegon kneels on the edge of the bed, firmly grips your jaw with his hand, and plants a feverish kiss against your lips. He pulls back and pecks the corner of your mouth. “Sit on his face.”

You straddle the knight's face, entwining your fingers in his thick, dark hair.

As you straddle the knight's face, your fingers entwine in his hair, and you lean forward, engaging in the intimate act. The knight's tongue delves deeper into your core, eliciting a moan of pleasure from you. He explores every inch of your cunt, tasting the wetness that has already gathered between your legs. His tongue delves deeper, while his nose brushes against your clit.

Argon’s traces a finger down the curve of your spine while fitting as much of your breast into his mouth, sucking roughly.

Being touched in so many places sends a thrilling yet overwhelming sensation through your body, and before long, you feel an orgasm building within you, and it doesn't take long for you to cum over the knight's face. Aegon lays down beside the knight and taps at his meaty thigh, signaling for you to climb onto his lap.

You hook a leg on either side of his hips, and you moan, feeling Aegon’s hardness between your folds. Once his cock is coated in your wetness, you sink down on him, and moans of pleasure escape your mouth. Aegon slowly thrusts into you while wrapping his arms around you, pulling you down so your ass is sticking up and your head is leaning against his chest. “You’ve been aching for cock all day, haven’t you?”

“Hmm, yes! I’ve wanted to feel you inside me all day.”

“Oh, my little queen loves nothing more than her cunny being stuffed.”

Criston moves so he’s kneeling behind you and begins groping your asses, watching as your husband's cock disappears inside you. Aegon’s thrusts quicken, then without warning he pulls out of you. You whine at the feeling of being empty, but Criston pushes his cock into your cunny. He thrusts inside you for a short time, then pulls out, and Aegon slides back inside you. They continue to take turns pounding into your sensitive cunny until Criston spills his seed inside you. As soon as the knight pulls out, Aegon thrusts back into you.

“You’re so spoiled, not only getting your husband's cock but your knights as well.”

"Fuck! Next time, I want you to take me at the same time."

It doesn’t take him long to cum as well; his head collapses back onto the pillow. You rest against his soft body while catching your breath.

Criston kisses your cheek, then whispers in your ear, “My queen, you are the forbidden fruit I cannot stop tasting.”

Aegon playfully pinches your bottom, “We’re going to need to get sheets changed. You’ve drenched them.”

#house of the dragon #aegon ii targaryen x reader #aegon ii targaryen smut #ser criston cole smut #Aegon ii Targaryen x you #aegon ii targaryen fanfiction #aegon targaryen/reader #aegon targaryen x targaryen!reader #aegon targaryen smut #house of the dragon smut #criston cole fanfic #ser criston cole x you #criston cole smut #ser criston cole x reader #criston cole x reader #criston cole x you

93 notes · View notes

crookedkryptonitebeliever · 2 days

Text

Yandere Coworker (part 14)

Thank you @i---believe---in---pink for commissioning this chapter.

(2945 words)

tw: afab reader, infantilization, butchered Spanish,

Masterlists (+commission info), part 1, part 15

You're in Cyprus's car, munching on one of the many treats he bought you from the farmers market. It distracted you from how Cyprus would sensually knead your thigh as he drove.

The car is full of fresh vegetables and fruits that he bought, so he could make tastier meals for you and him. In his styrofoam cooler, rest slabs of butchered meat and numerous ice packs to keep them from spoiling, as the ride home is quite far.

He was talking about an anecdote, in an attempt to prompt you to open up to him. But his tactic has been failing for the past half hour, all you did was nod and eat.

Cyprus pursed his lips as he glanced at you from the corners of his eyes. You have exhausted his conversational topics and he has a whole arsenal of them. You're driving him insane! What does it take for you to talk to him about yourself? He failed to consider that you may not have a lot to say in the first place because he truly believed that you are complex and more than your internet addiction. He wants to know your thoughts, more about your likes and dislikes, your beliefs, family, friends... anything!

Then, he had an idea.

"We're not going home just yet."

You looked at him and asked what he meant by that. He merely smirked and stayed silent.

Cyprus didn't drive back to his apartment or yours like you expected. You knew it was close to his home, since you and he passed by this place to get there.

He pulled up to a dilapidated building, no doubt another apartment complex but older and dingier. The wall paint was chipping off, and windows were shrouded with overgrown trees and moss. Cars were haphazardly parked around the complex without regulation or visible parking lines.

He pulled on his handbrake and switched his engine off. You're still staring out the window, wondering where he took you.

"Baby." You turned around, to have him cup your cheek and gently pull your lower eyelid down with a thumb. You initially struggled against him but relaxed when you realized he meant no harm and wouldn't let go until he got what he wanted. Which was to examine your eyes.

He hummed, staring intensely at you. Making you blush at how attractive he appears to you now, you would be caught dead before admitting that to him. But you didn't have to, he knows what you're thinking and is fully aware of how he presents himself.

Cyprus checked the time on his wristwatch. He finally lets go of you and reaches for his center console, where he has tucked your medicated eyedrops away.

You complained, telling him that you could apply your own antibiotics. He merely clicked his tongue in annoyance and rolled his eyes as he uncapped the bottle. "Look up."

You didn't have to do anything, Cyprus was the one who tilted your head upwards while pulling a lower eyelid down. Sighing, you let him administer the drops in your eyes. It felt humiliating, yet secretly, you felt somewhat comforted to know someone was out there remembering these little details of you. If it wasn't for him, the thought of your medication would have completely slipped your mind.

You blinked hard, letting the liquid sting your eyes momentarily. You could hear the rustling of the pharmacy's paper bag as he kept your medicine away. He had also pulled a sheet out of his tissue box. "Stop that!" Cyprus hissed, pulling your hands away from your face as you instinctually went on to rub your eyes.

You grumbled, letting Cyprus coddle you; gently wiping the excess drops using the tissue and carefully picking the crust out from the corners of your eyes. You remained still for the entirety of this, allowing Cyprus to do whatever he pleases. Luckily, he's acting with the best intentions in mind.

"There, done." He crumpled the sheet of tissue and shoved it into his pocket to dispose of it later. Cyprus then kissed you on the forehead. "Good girl." Whispered praises and chuckling.

You didn't respond, but instead stormed out of his car and slammed the door shut behind you. Cyprus got out shortly after, he took out the styrofoam cooler from his trunk and a couple bags of fresh vegetables before locking his car using his key fob.

"Come on, let's meet tu suegra." He gestured for you to follow him to a dim stairwell, where the only source of lighting was the outdoors. Cyprus started ascending the steps with the bags in hand.

The cogs started turning in your head, you may or may not understand what he just said, but all hints are suggesting that you're now at his mother's place. You also noted how his American accent suddenly changed into a completely different one when saying those two words. However, looking back, he tends to roll his "R"s.

You tailed behind Cyprus, climbing the bare, concrete stairs with suspect hand railings. It's dusty and cobweb-ridden, but at least it's functional.

You and he eventually reached an open-air corridor, grateful for the sunlight shining the path for you.

"Here." He handed you a bag and knocked on the door. It seems like the plaque fell off, you could see the screw holes, but you have no idea what number unit this is. The other doors don't seem kind enough to give you hints either.

You held the bag of vegetables in your arms as you watched Cyprus knock again, trying to get the attention of whoever was residing behind it.

Silence blanketed over him as you were made to wait for any further developments. You opened your mouth to say something, but your ear perked up at the sound of the door unlatching and unlocking. An unpleasant creak of the hinges, and then a surprised gasp reached your ears.

"Mi-" The voice, aged and feminine, stopped midway. You peered over the bag to see a woman in her fifties, her grey roots are showing as it seems she hasn't refreshed her black dye in a while. Like Cyprus, she too, wore glasses and had the same beautiful set of grey eyes. Her eyebrows were thin, charmingly drawn on and her lips were in a deep shade of red, but they were pulled downwards into a frown as she eyed you cautiously. Even taking a few steps back into her room, hiding behind the door.

"Mamá, tranquilo." There was a sense of urgency in his voice as if he was trying to prevent a catastrophe from happening. But immediately after, he purred at you. "Ella es muy dulce." He gave you a sweet peck on the crown of your head. Cyprus rested an arm around your waist and brought you closer to his side.

Upon seeing her son's calmness and hearing his assurance, you saw the tension on her shoulders leave. But she's not convinced enough to fully come out of her hiding place. She stared at you unblinkingly, observing what you might do next. At this point, you felt embarrassed, feeling like a filthy, feral stray under her intense gaze.

You gave her an awkward, crooked smile and wave. Unsure if she could understand you if you spoke English. You also had half a mind to act insane, scaring his mother off so she would disprove your forced relationship with him. You assumed that the bag that Cyprus gave you earlier was meant to be for his mother, so you presented it to her. Which made her look amused with her focus darting between her son and you.

"Say 'Buenos Tardes, señora.'" You felt his breath on your ear as he whispered.

You did just that, butchering the pronunciation a bit but it's not too bad. Just enough for his mother to understand and be impressed by. You wonder if her standards for her son's partners are as low as Cyprus's.

"Buenos Tardes, Buenos Tardes. ¿Es eso para mí?" She gestured towards the bag in your extended arms.

"Sí, mama. Es un regalo por tú, Mi vida quería dar una buena primera impresión." He spoke up for you, affectionately stroking your hair as she took the bag off your hands. "Ella no sabía qué regalarte. Entonces sugerí comprar algunas verduras."

"¿Mi vida?" She appeared astonished at the apparent pet name he used for you. "Eso es nuevo. Ella debe ser muy especial para ti."

He laughed and nodded. "Sí, claro." Cyprus put the cooler down and went on to hug his mother as a delayed greeting. It was brief, they let each other go and brought their attention back to you.

Feeling the peer pressure crushing your bones, you mirrored what they did and hesitantly went in for an awkward hug. But it seems like she has warmed up to the idea of you, her arms wrapped around you comfortably.

"Entre, por favor." She stepped aside and opened her door wider. You assume that she's telling you and Cyprus to come in. You were about to step foot into her residence, but your boyfriend grabbed you by the arm before you could get any further.

"Take your shoes off, baby." He instructed as he took his own shoes off. You look at his mother and see that she's barefoot, there is a shoe rack inside that holds a few pairs of shoes and you assume that is where you're meant to put yours. So, you removed your footwear like how Cyprus told you to and it earned a nod of approval from his mother.

He picked your shoes up for you and coaxed you inside. You were about to whine that you could have done that yourself, but it's probably not worth the trouble. The quicker you finish this, the quicker you can leave.

You took a look around at her humble abode. It's not as bad as the outside, quite homely with the oddly luxurious items making their appearance here and there. But it is to be expected, as you remember how Cyprus described his mother as someone who prioritized looking expensive over her children's welfare. You were eyeing the leather massage chair in front of the flatscreen TV, wishing that you owned one.

"Good girl." He praised, kissing you on the temple. Cyprus then went on to put the two pairs of shoes on the rack. His mother is in the process of unloading the styrofoam cooler, bringing the meats to the kitchenette nearby; putting them away in the fridge.

"¿Quieres algo de tomar? ¿Té? ¿Cafe?" She asked, directing her gaze mainly to you.

"Una taza de té por ella, Mama. Ella no podrá dormir esta noche si toma café ahora." He took off his leather jacket and hung it on a coat stand nearby. The woman cocked her eyebrows at how much her son cared for you, it's something new and refreshing. She nodded and prepared three mugs on the counter.

You wish that you could have a say in your choice of drinks.

"¿Y tú, Mijo?" She filled the electric kettle up with tap water.

"No hay necesidad. Compartiré una taza con ella." He ended the line of conversation and turned towards you, cupping the sides of your face in his large, warm hands.

"You're doing so well." He crooned, gently squeezing your cheeks affectionately. "My mom likes you..." Cyprus nuzzled his nose against yours, feeling the cold frame of his glasses brush against your skin. "You make me so fucking happy, princess."

You tried to push him away, telling him that his mother was right there.

"Okay, and?" Your eyes quickly dart in her direction, seeing that she's still busy preparing two cups of tea.

You said that it's embarrassing and probably disrespectful to his mother. No one wants to see their son getting all sappy with someone else!

"She's fine." He brushed you off and pulled you into a hug, swaying you side to side. You felt judged when his mother glanced at you and a smirk, a damn smirk so reminiscent of her son's, began curling at the corners of her lips. So you firmly pushed him away, that did the trick but it was as if you gave him a soft nudge.

She brought the two mugs to the dining table, Cyprus lead you to the chairs and sat down on one of it. However, before you could park yourself onto a chair, Cyprus pulled you into his lap and kept you imprisoned there. His arms tangling around your form tightly, making it impossible to escape his hold without making a scene. So you let out a resigned sigh and sunk into him.

"Cuidado, hace calor." Said his mother as she picked her own cup up, blew on it, and allowed the steam to waft around her face. She used the metal spoon to mix the milk and sugar in the beverage.

"Lo sé, mamá." He picked the other cup up and blew on it. You were wondering if she had forgotten to make you a cup, or if Cyprus told her not to for some reason. It's such a shame, you were looking forward to it-

"Say aah." You were presented with a spoonful of cooled tea. And immediately, your face turned red as a tomato. Really? This level of humiliation in front of his own mother? You opened your mouth to say something unsavory, but Cyprus took the chance to feed you the drink.

It was delicious, no doubt. Enough to shut you up and seek more, but the cup was occupied by Cyprus; he was taking a sip out of it and probably burning his tongue with how hot the tea was.

This whole performance earned some laughter from his mother. You tried your best to hide your face from her, but in the end, Cyprus handed you the entire cup to drink. It's at an appropriate temperature for you to drink.

"Que niña tan Consentido, ¿Te gusta mimarla, Mijo?" You heard clinks coming from her spoon hitting the ceramic walls of her cup as she stirred.

"Sí. Muchisimo." Cyprus watched you with adoration as you drank sipped on the beverage.

Eventually, the mother-son duo started chatting in Spanish. You don't know if they're talking about you, or just catching up. You think it's most likely the latter because you've been with Cyprus 24/7 for a few months now. He has not visited his mother once, this is the first time in a while, you assume.

You're not stupid, though. There was a good chunk of the conversation where it's just talking about you, based on the glances she would give you and the mention of your name, and what you assume are Spanish pet names.

Either way, you felt ashamed. You felt inferior and belittled. You wish you could just go home and hide under the covers. But your home isn't even your home anymore, it's Cyprus's.

You decided to look around once more and drink in your surroundings, noting the lack of picture frames or any indication that his mother has children or a husband. There is a distinct detergent smell, nothing like you've ever smelt before and it's lovely. Cyprus washes his clothes with something similar, but the aroma isn't identical.

Cyprus picked the cup up and took a sip for himself. His eyes were trained on your bored face.

"Doll." He caught your attention and his mother's. Cyprus brought a thumb to your lower eyelid and tenderly tugged it down to check on your pink eye.

His mother seemingly asked him about what he was doing, to which Cyprus explained to her your situation. He then brought his attention back to you.

"Do you want to head home?" He asked.

You were about to say yes, but his mother's innocently wide eyes stared at you with a tinge of sadness.

"My mom is really enjoying having you here." He explained what that look potentially meant. "But if you're tired, we're going home. We can visit her another time."

She's enjoying you here? She's barely talking to you! And that language barrier is not making it any easier. You think that his mother is sad that her son is leaving so soon.

You told him that you could head back home by yourself, you know the way back and he should spend more time with his mother while he still can. Cyprus narrowed his eyes at you. "No way in hell am I letting you go alone."

You said you're fine. It's just a few blocks away.

"We're leaving." He lifted you off his lap. "Gracias por el té, mamá." Cyprus rose up to his full height, towering over you and his mother.

"I have extra pillows and blankets if you want to take a nap." You whipped your head towards the woman at lightspeeds, she could speak English fluently all this time?!

You looked back at Cyprus, he was crossing his arms over his chest and waiting for your response. He isn't shocked, annoyed, or amazed at this sudden switch, he's simply indifferent.

You turned back to his mother and asked why she didn't speak English from the beginning.

"I'll tell you if you stay for dinner." She smiled, speaking in a moderately heavy accent. Now you know where Cyprus gets his blackmailing traits from.

You looked back at Cyprus. He merely shrugged.

"Your call, Mi cielo." You asked him what that term meant.

"I'll also tell you that if you stay for dinner." Beamed his mother.

Cyprus smirked and chuckled, but didn't say anything else.

#yandere male #yandere x reader #yandere oc #yandere #male yandere oc x reader #yandere oc x reader #tw yandere #yandere concept #yandere x you #oc cyprus #tw infantilization #male yandere x reader #tw afab reader #yandere x female reader #yandere x y/n #yandere x darling #thank you so much for your commission

89 notes · View notes

majusialikesfastcars · 2 days

Text

SHAMELESS

Carlos Sainz x Norris!reader

Summary: you knew that you shouldn't fall for your brother's best friend, but there's no going back.

⚠️Tw: smut

(carlos' version)⁵⁵

Series masterlist

🥀

"So many mornings I woke up confused,

In my dreams, I do anything I want to you,

My emotions are naked, they're taking me out of my mind,

Right now I'm shameless,

Screamin' my lungs out for ya"

🥀

Love is a complex emotion. People aren't able to control the feeling of utter devotion for another person. It is also not possible to choose your beloved, the person you are going to give every part of your soul, mind and heart. The heart that wants what it wants.

You always tried to stay away from your brother's friends cycle. They were simply too much for you. Not your cup of tea.

That was until you met Carlos.

Lando as oblivious as he is, never noticed the heart eyes you were sending to the spanish driver. But Carlos? Oh, he knew straight away, sending you his famous smirk. Your heart suddenly started beating faster, when he walked up to you, his cologne mesmerizing you even more. He introduced himself, took your hand in his and brought it to his lips, leaving invisible marks that were about to stay with you forever. Then simply walked away to talk to your brother, leaving you in a mess of feelings, that shouldn't even appear, but in the same time it felt wrong for them to vanish.

Carlos Sainz was like a forbidden fruit, but you wouldn't be yourself if you at least didn't get a taste of it, even if it meant being condemned to your personal hell.

🥀

The two years, that Carlos spend in McLaren consisted of needy glances and tension, you were so adamant to break. But you never acted out on your feelings and Carlos didn't seem devastated by that, so you let it be. Then he signed contract with Ferrari. And that was it. You didn't see him much after that and eventually you focused on your own life, old feelings long forgotten.

Until today.

Carlos was sitting on the couch, probably drinking some expensive drink, while club music played from the speakers, giving people the opportunity to show off their dance moves. He was watching you, the beautiful and confident woman, who had never left his thoughts since their first meeting. The black, tight-fitting dress hugged your body, showing off all your curves. The makeup enhanced your already breathtaking beauty. He wasn't surprised at all, that so many people were following you with dreamy eyes. He himself couldn't stop staring at you. You were a fucking perfection for him.

You were dancing with some guy, who was practically undressing you just by looking at you, and his hands were wandering too much for his liking. He scoffed, clearly unsatisfied. Everyone could see how much he wanted to be in his place and he really thanked God, that Lando wasn't anywhere nearby, because even he would have noticed the way he was looking at you, his best friend's sister. Jealousy was burning his body. But he did nothing for one and only reason. You were looking directly in his eyes, effectively grounding his body in a place he was. It was as if you were giving him a taste of what he could have on a daily basis. You were playing with him, and he wasn't going to leave it like that.

After a while, when one of the many popular songs stopped playing, the man wanted to keep you by his side, moving his hands to your hips. The glass from which the Spaniard was drinking his alcohol almost broke at the sight. He should be the one in his place. You brought your lips up, but when the guy was about to kiss you, you smiled lazily, whispered something into the man's ear and moved away to a safe distance. Leaving the horny guy in a stupor, you moved towards Carlos.

You stopped between his legs, looking at him with the same look that always made him want to bend you across the table, completely forgetting about Lando. This time was no different.

"Why are you sitting here alone?" Those were the first words that came out of your mouth. Your voice was like a beautiful melody to his ears. "Shouldn't you have a circle of girls around you?"

"I don't think it would satisfy me in any way."

"Have habits changed?" you asked, running your nails down his neck.

"Oh, maybe I worded it wrong. It wouldn't satisfy me because none of them are you."

You giggled at his words, plopping down on the couch next to him. Carlos almost choked on his saliva when he felt a gentle touch on his lower abdomen, just above the zipper of his pants. You slightly turned his head towards you, getting even closer.

"Oh, yeah?" you smirked, watching his reactions to your touch. "What happened to 'I would't do it to Lando'?"

"He isn't here, is he?" Carlos asked, placing his palm on your exposed thigh.

You licked your lips, enjoying the way his raspy voice and big hand made you feel. He chuckled when you closed your eyes, letting him move his hand higher, almost touching the end of your dress. Oh, how he wanted to already get you out of it. You nearly moaned when you felt the feather touch of his digits on your laced panties. He didn't stop there. His fingers slowly, even painfully, made their way to your core. It was like he was punishing you for years of your teasing. And you loved it. The sound that escaped from your throat, when he pressed the tip of his finger on your clit, suddenly made you aware of the very public surroundings. But people didn't pay you attention, too invested in their own world. But Carlos noticed, how you observed if someone was watching. Of course he did. He pushed a finger inside you.

"Letting me touch you like that in public?" he chuckled, feeling how you clenched at his words. "Such a needy girl."

He pushed another finger in, moving them slowly and you swore you could feel your insides burning. It felt so good you wanted to cry, because you knew he wouldn't grant you release so soon. His name rolled off your tongue easily, followed by a moan. Your nails were leaving marks on his arm from how hard you squeezed it. Carlos loved it.

"Carlos, please, I —" you couldn't even form a sentence, the feeling of his fingers deep inside had you mumbling incoherent words.

"Tell me what you want, niña bonita."

That. Fucking. Bastard.

He was teasing you and you were well aware, that you would have to beg for it to end.

"Carlos —"

"Words."

"Please, faster" you managed to utter. "Please, Carlos, I beg you —"

Words stuck in your throat, when he started thrusting his fingers faster and harder. You couldn't stop moaning, when you felt your release coming closer. His other hand found a way to your throat, squeezing it gently and forcing you to look directly at him. His lips caught yours in a delicate kiss, that turned out into a messy make out session in seconds.

🥀

Your back hit the door of his hotel room, when you finally stumbled out of the elevator, still caught up in a hungry kiss. You completely messed up his hair from constant grabbing. His hands roamed on your body and it felt heavenly. He finally managed to get his keys and gently pushed you inside, not breaking the kiss for a moment. He wasted no time and you were left only in your laced panties in a couple of seconds. But he was still fully dressed and you didn't like it. So you got to work quickly. His button up shirt ended on the floor, missing a few buttons. He pushed you on the bed, getting on top of you immediately. His lips fell on your neck and you were certain that the marks wouldn't fade within few days. He took your breasts in his hands, brushing your nipples with his thumbs. But you wanted more. When you tried to move your hips against the visible bulge in his pants, he pinned you down, earning a needy whine from you.

"So eager for me to fuck you." he slapped your thigh, your legs opening instantly. "Pathetic."

You were soaking wet at his words. Your panties were quickly discarded and you could tell, that you wouldn't be able to use them anymore. He grabbed your thighs, spitting at your core.

"Let me get a taste of you first, hermosa."

His head dipped down between your legs, bringing sounds out of you, that you didn't know you were capable of making. His tongue worked wonders. He was eating you like a starved man. You couldn't count how many times you came until stopped. He looked at you, completely fucked out of your mind and you could almost see how lust appeared in his eyes again.

🥀

yourusername's instagram

landonorris stop ignoring me, I see you respond to others

yourusername miami I love you

liked by yourbffusername, carlossainz55 & others

Comments:

yourbffusername u sure u talking about miami?? 🤔

yourusername 🤫

landonorris y/n.

landonorris pick up the phone

landonorris stop ignoring me, i see you respond to others

carlossainz55 🤩

user1 are going to ignore lando's meltdown??

user2 lando omg 😭😭

user3 carlos hiding in the comments 🤔

🥀

Carlos Sainz is the winner of Australian Gran Prix.

Two weeks after his surgery, he won another race. He really knew how to make a comeback.

Tears of pride started gathering in your eyes, when he once again arrived at podium's highest step, soaking in glory. He looked ethereal, divine even. He was in his element and your heart grew at the scene playing above you. He was proving what he was capable of, glowing in Ferrari red in spite of Lewis not finishing the race. Maybe his replacement wasn't worth dropping him at all? He really belonged here. But despite all this, during the play of spanish national anthem, he still looked for you in a crowd of people cheering for him. Because your appreciation and support mattered to him more than the rest. And he found you. Standing there in the middle of Ferrari's mechanics, in his team merch with his name spread across your back and lovestruck expression on your face. You didn't care about the cameras catching your longing stare. You didn't even care about your brother facing the reality, that his best friend had fallen for his little sister. He was the only one in your mind.

When he finally walked away from the podium, soaking in champagne with the biggest smile adoring his face, your heart started to beat faster, exactly the same way, like when you saw him for the first time. He almost run to you, crashing you in a hug, unaware of Lando's stare shooting daggers at him.

🥀

Author's note: thank you for reading!!!

#carlos sainz x reader #carlos sainz #f1 smut #f1 x reader #lando norris #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #f1 fic #f1 #formula 1 #carlos sainz smut

116 notes · View notes

sugar-phoenix · 1 day

Text

Death of a Cowboy

synopsis: Before Boothill became Boothill, he was a cowboy on the planet of Aeragan-Epharshel, living with his foster caretakers. Everything was simple and perfect. That is, until the IPC descended from the skies. Alternatively: I rewrote Boothill's lore, expanded it, and made it a lot more devastating. tws: child death, trauma tags: boothill, boothill has a daughter, I gave boothill a name, heavy angst, trauma a/n: 2.5k words, get your tissues ready.

ao3 link here!

The cowboy took a sip out of the malt fruit juice in his hand. Overhead, million of stars twinkled in the sky. He laid back, soaking in the night.

The cool wind gently bit at his skin. There was nothing but the sound of the leaves rustling, and the chorus of crickets in the grass. He breathed deeply, feeling the air fill his lungs, and the blood pumping beneath his hand which rested lazily on his chest.

The years had passed since the cowboy had been taken in by Graey and Nick, and although people had come and gone, and his caretakers had grown old with age, this planet refused to change. He was certain that no matter where he went, no matter if he decided to stay or leave, the leafy trees, the green grass, the burbling river… it would all be here forever.

A sound rose up from the night, one that was unfamiliar yet all too familiar. The cowboy got up to investigate it, and as he got closer, he realized what it was. He swore under his breath.

“Is that a baby?”

In the grass, nestled within a box with blankets, a baby wailed. He stared at it, unsure of what to do. Nick and Graey had picked up many children over the years, but since this cowboy had been one of the youngest (and quite honestly completely disinterested in the whole childcare thing) he had little to no experience or direction. He stood there and stared at the baby that was still wailing, frozen in place. Something within him compelled him to pick up the bundle and soothe it, and he followed that urge, raising the child to his chest.

“Shh, shh, there there little guy. It’s okay.”

Miraculously, the baby stopped crying, and looked up at him with bright eyes, cooing curiously. In the moonlight, he saw a note was attached to the bundle, and he picked it up to read it.

Please take care of my Hannah.

“Ah, sorry, little girl. You’re not a boy after all,” the cowboy whispered.

The baby started wailing again.

“Ah sh— I’m sorry! I’m sorry! How was I supposed to know you were a girl and not a guy?”

“Wes!”

A call came from the porch, and the cowboy turned around.

“Wes, is that a baby?”

“I don’t know, Nick. Someone left her out in the cold night like this.” Wes shouted back, his voice competing with the crying child in his arms.

“Well bring her in already. She’ll catch a cold if she’s out there any longer.”

A cold? Wes snapped up, quickly grabbing her box and rushing into the house.

Inside, Nick cleared the table.

“Set ‘er down here.”

Graey was busy whittling away at a block of wood. Too many times Wes’ siblings had tried to get him to give it up as he got older, fearing for the health of his hands, but he steadfastly refused.

“If there’s anything I’m going to enjoy in my old age, it’ll be my woodworkin.’ So let me do it until I can’t do it no more,” was what he always said.

Wes laid the baby down on the table.

“Is she going to get a cold?” Wes asked.

“No, no. She’s probably fine,” Nick said, waving his hand dismissively. He held a bottle of warm milk and handed it to Wes.

“Here, Wesson. You feed her.”

“Who, me? No!—” Wes started to protest, but he could see that Nick was not about to budge. He always used Wes’ full name when he meant business.

Sighing, Wes picked up the baby again, cradling it in the crook of his arm. These movements were stilted, stiff.

He’d seen Nick and Graey do the same thing many times. Now he was copying their movements and praying it would be enough.

The baby stopped crying when he picked her up, and that gave him enough confidence to continue.

“There, there. That’s right. Come drink your milk.”

Wes picked up the bottle of milk and held it to the baby’s mouth.

“There now, drink up.”

The baby did not drink up. It only looked at him blankly, then at the bottle, and then wailed again.

“Hey, hey, the bottle’s right here lil’ missus.” He continued to hold it in front of the baby’s face, but she only wailed louder and pushed it away.

“She’s not latching on,” he turned to the two elderly men in the room, who were watching him flounder with amusement.

“She doesn’t know it’s food, Wes. Squeeze a few drops in her mouth.” Nick took a leisurely sip from his cup of malt.

Wes did so, just as Graey chimed in with, “Just be careful not to choke her.” Wes looked up at him in horror.

“Choke? Couldn’t you have said that sooner?”

Graey only laughed out loud.

“Relax, Wes. Look, she’s drinkin’ now,” Nick pointed out.

Wes looked down. And true to Nick’s words the baby had latched on, suckling with all the ferocity she could muster. He let out a sigh of relief.

Wes watched as she nearly drank the whole thing, her red lips working the nipple of the bottle. Like with the air in his lungs and the pumping of his blood, he felt something new bloom in his heart. Something unexpected.

“I think that baby’s yours, Wes.”

Wes looked up at Graey.

“Wh-what? No—”

“No, it’s too late, I’m afraid. You’ve got that look in your eye.”

“Same one we had when we found you, Wes,” Nick chimed in.

“But I— I can’t take care of a damn baby!”

“Damb.”

Wes looked down at the baby in his arms, startled.

“What was that now, lil’ missus?”

“Dammb,” the baby said proudly, then blew a raspberry at him.

“Damn,” the cowboy repeated reverently. “You’ve got some big words coming out of your mouth there, Hannah.”

Behind him, the two older cowboys smiled at each other.

☆ ☆ ☆

“Daddy.”

“Just a lil’ longer, lil’ missus. I got your guitar ready for you soon.”

The baby had grown up fast. She had taken her first steps only a few weeks ago, and with the gentle support of Wes they all watched as she made her way over to Nick’s guitar. It was often that the sound of his playing soothed her to sleep, but now she seemed to express a real interest in the instrument, giggling and shrieking as she plucked its strings. It wasn’t very long afterwards that Wes found himself asking Graey for woodworking tips. He’d never been big on the trade, but the idea of making a small guitar for Hannah to play with on her own had taken him by the throat. Graey happily complied, and now, a few days later, Wes was working on the last step: threading and tuning the strings. Hannah sat on the floor of the small workshop next to him, playing with her wooden animals. She rarely ever left his side. She squealed happily as she knocked a wooden cow and a wooden horse together, then raised the cow into the air. Graey had whittled toys for her, and the cow one was her favorite out of all of them. She lovingly referred to it as “Beth.”

Wes looked down at her, smiling. He never thought of fostering a child, even in his wildest dreams.

“But that’s the funny part about stuff like this,” he heard Graey’s voice in his head. “They just happen, and all of a sudden you’re doin’ stuff you never would have done in a million years.”

“Here ya go, Hannah,” Wes said, crouching down to her level. “Here’s a guitar made just for you.”

Hannah squealed gleefully as Wes handed the guitar to her. She slapped at its strings, laughing louder with every sound it made.

“Wesson!” A shout came from outside.

Wes leapt up from the floor, hand to the revolver at his hip. He rushed out to the porch to find Nick looking upwards.

Following his gaze, he found a fleet of spaceships were descending from the skies.

“Newcomers,” Nick said. “And they sure as hell don’t look friendly either.”

Wes would come to see how true Nick’s words were.

☆ ☆ ☆

The men in black from the sky had no regards for the inhabitants of the planet they were invading. Wes watched over the weeks as families were uprooted from their homes simply because they existed over deposits of black ore, and men had died for trying to take back what their fathers had built. They wheeled in excavators, started carving into the earth, marring it with reckless abandon. The so-called Interastral Peace Corporation did nothing in the name of peace. Rather, they saw the planet as a fruit that was ripe for harvesting, and the people who lived on it as obstacles, pests to drive out and eradicate.

Their “negotiations” were rather demands that the natives leave their homes immediately and never come back. They were treated as lowlife savages, incompetents.

And at times, it truly felt that way. The IPC’s advanced weapons and turrets far overpowered the simple revolvers and horses that the people of Aeragan-Epharshel used. No matter how many men banded against them, it was a massacre each and every time. One that Wesson had to watch over and over again, as he outlived much of his friends and siblings.

Graey, Nick, Hannah, and the rest of the ranch were much further inland, so they were thankfully away from the struggle and bloodshed. At least for now.

Wes had joined the guerilla warfare against the IPC — but the approach they were using was ineffective, and they were only losing more lives by the day.

The only way to make it all end, he realized, was to go straight to the top. Deal with the man behind it all. And so, Wes schemed. He stole a Synesthesia Beacon from the cargo hold of a train, used it so that his words became theirs. Then he snuck onto the mothership, wearing a uniform he’d stolen off somewhere else.

Wes’ nerves were taut as he made his way through the ship. IPC employees casually walked past him, some laughing and joking with their colleagues as if there wasn’t a thing wrong in the world. Every so often he’d tell himself not to reflexively put a hand on the revolver at his waist. He told himself to act like he belonged. To act like he owned his ship and everyone in it. After all it’s what they were doing. It was only fair to infiltrate them with their own tactics.

After what felt like hours, Wes reached the restricted area. The door to the core cabin was blocked by two guards, and he knew there were only more inside waiting for him.

“Hey,” one of them said, “You can’t come this— ”

He and his partner were shot through the head. Wes moved quickly now, since the guards inside would no doubt be alerted.

There were only three more guards beyond the doors, which were quickly dealt with, and then there was a long corridor that led to the core cabin. Wes sneaked up, slowing down when he heard voices.

He listened with disgust as they talked about Aeragan-Epharshel, talked about the beautiful planet he called home as thought it was nothing but a chip to gain for their own competitive advantage. He listened as they referred to his people as uncivilized savages, like as if they hadn’t been doing perfectly well before they descended down.

“We are running out of time,” one of them said. “You are permitted to use military force and bring civilization to this world.

And then, “Initiate the cannons. Wipe them all out.”

There is a level of terror that grips a man, that tells him that he is about to lose everything. In that moment, Wes ran. He forgot all about killing the man in charge, forgot about his schemes, forgot about ending it all.

As he bolted through the ship, as employees laughed and joked around him, his stomach twisting itself tighter as he felt and heard the rumble of what could only be cannon fire, he had one thought running through his mind. A plea.

Please let them be safe. Oh, please let them be safe. Please.

Outside, terrible thunder shook the sky as hellfire rained from above. Wes had no regards for his life as he ran through the crowd of screaming people, shells exploding left and right, as cowboys died around him. He ran through the plain, across the fields, back to where he was raised, the only home he’d ever known.

As he got closer, he saw smoke.

“No. No, no, no, no!”

Craters scarred the field around him. Where there was supposed to be a ranch and a house, there was nothing but burning rubble. Everywhere Wes looked, there was fire and wreckage.

“Hannah,” he shouted, the smoke drying out his lungs. “HANNAH!”

He didn’t hear her. Didn’t hear her soft angelic voice calling back to him, didn’t hear a cry or a scream.

“Nick! Graey!” He screamed their names until he choked on smoke, tried to dig through the charred wooden beams where his house stood until the fire seared his hands and he was forced to back away.

No response. No remains. Nothing.

The cannon fire had stopped by now, leaving pure and utter destruction in its wake.

Wes sank to his knees.

He took a breath. It was full of smoke. And then he took another.

And then he screamed. Screamed into the fire and smoke. Screamed for his friends. Screamed for the two men who were like fathers to him.

Screamed for his daughter, the small pure being who had taken his whole heart with her.

They didn’t deserve to die like this.

His scream cut out as he choked, this time on his tears. He crumpled to the ground, sobbing.

Nobody deserved to die like this.

She didn’t deserve to die like this.

He sobbed and sobbed, and for how long he didn’t know. He didn’t care if the IPC found him. Hell, they could shoot him dead if they liked. It made no difference to him. He had lost everything.

When he stopped crying, when the pain had dulled to an empty numbness, he closed his eyes. Soaked in his surroundings.

The heat from the fire threatened to melt his skin off. The air was thick and heavy with smoke. The only sound was the crackling of the wood, the trees, and the grass burning.

It was a stark contrast to what he experienced months before.

This irreversible landscape… it had been changed.

No.

Ruined. Permanently.

This wasn’t his home. Not anymore.

And someone needed to pay for it. For all of it.

Slowly, painfully, he stood up, his breaths shuddering.

As he looked around one last time, his eyes caught sight of something lying on the ground.

It was a small wooden cow, slightly charred.

He picked it up, and held it in his hand.

“This is for you, Hannah. Don’t you worry, Daddy will make those bastards pay for what they did to you.”

He slipped the toy into his pocket.

With long striding steps, he walked away from everything he had ever known, his unadulterated fury the only thing moving him forward.

dividers by cafekitsune!

link to gif post

37 notes · View notes

thecharacterchronicler · 13 hours

Text

Bloodline || Ominis Gaunt x Reader

Outline: Your family arranged for you to marry Marvolo Gaunt. Fortunately, your best friend Ominis steps up and makes sure to save you from such a fate.

Word count: 4’515

Warnings: English isn’t my first language so possible misspelled or misplaced words, arranged marriage, abusive families (mentioned), first time s*x, friends to lovers and explicit smut.

The familiar flip-flap of owls entering the great hall through the windows resounded in Ominis’ ears, excited chatter rising from the students sitting at the tables as, one by one, they received their mail. The sound of paper falling on a wooden surface nearby piqued his curiosity, he didn’t receive letters often, nor did you or Sebastian but an envelope had unmistakably landed in front of one of you.

Your clothes rustled as you moved to take the paper in your hand, tearing apart the top of the envelope as your owl took flight again, its wings almost grazing Ominis’s hair on its way back to the owlery.

Despite the noise of other students all around, Ominis distinctly heard you take a sharp inhale of air, your silence as you read the letter addressed to you feeling somewhat tense.

“Is everything alright ?” He asked you, but you didn’t reply right away, too focused on whatever you were reading.

He waited a few more minutes, noticing the way your legs grew restless and your movements became agitated. You were sitting at the opposite side of the table from him and your foot bumped into his a few times as you nervously readjusted your posture.

He was too polite to insist and didn’t want to push you to share something you might want to keep for yourself, so even though he was dying to question you about the mysterious letter you had received and why its content seemed to upset you, he simply cleared his throat to remind you that he was waiting for an answer to his question.

“It’s a letter from my family.” You explained, with a slight tremble in your voice. “They say that they arranged a partnership for me, effective immediately after graduation.”

“A partnership ? You mean some kind of professional training ?” Sebastian asked, before biting into an apple.

“That would be an internship.” Ominis corrected him, shaking his head. “I think she meant something more intimate than that.”

“Like… A relationship ?” Sebastian inquired, still munching on his fruit.

“A marriage.” You stated, defeated.

“I didn’t know you were dating someone.”

“I am not.”

“It’s common for wealthy and powerful families such as hers to arrange weddings, especially if it’s a matter of keeping their bloodline alive and pure.” Ominis explained, a shiver running down his spine. That was something his family did too, they were obsessed with maintaining the quality of their bloodline, suitable matches were carefully chosen, sometimes within their own family members.

“It’s more of a business contract than a marriage.” You added, with a sigh. “And my parents are making it very clear that I don’t have any say in the matter.”

“Do you know who’s the lucky fiancé, though ?” Sebastian asked, seemingly taking such terrible news lightly. Way too lightly. It was a tragedy, really. You deserved better than to be forced into a loveless marriage under the pretense of keeping a bloodline going, securing the pride and superiority of the worst kind of wizards to exist. Maybe Sebastian couldn’t quite grasp the gravity of what you had been asked to do but Ominis knew all too well how you must feel, being robbed of your free will and freedom by a controlling and corrupted family.

“It’s Marvolo Gaunt.” You answered, bluntly, before getting up from your seat on the bench and leaving the great hall in a rush. Although Ominis couldn’t see, he felt the intensity of your gaze piercing right through him, until you were no longer in the room.

His chest tightened and his body tensed at the sound of his older brother’s name. Marvolo probably was the most cruel wizard he knew, aside from their father. Although they shared the same blood, the same family and the same education, Ominis wasn’t afraid to say that his brother was immensely deranged and should have been locked up in Azkaban a long time ago, like the rest of his family actually. The only reason rules didn’t apply to them and they were free to commit the most vile and cruel crimes without facing punishment was because they were Gaunts, descendants of the great Salazar Slytherin and held more power and wealth than any other family of wizards in the country.

And now you were going to be one of them.

He couldn’t imagine you, taking part in the cruel acts his family committed for fun. And if you didn’t, they would find a way to punish you for it, just like they had punished him in the past. The Gaunts were dangerous, and you needed to stay away from them, no matter what.

Ominis stood up, reaching for his wand to guide his steps through the corridors and halls of the castle. He needed to find you and he knew his wand would know exactly where to take him. He was racking his brain, trying to find a solution to save you from such a doomed fate as he followed mindlessly the path his wand indicated. Eventually, he found himself outside, in a narrow courtyard. Wind rustled through the leaves of a nearby tree and caressed his face, sending a cold shiver through his body. He couldn’t feel any rays of sunshine warming his skin, meaning it must be a rather cloudy afternoon. He could hear the sound of water moving in the fountain at the center of the courtyard, birds singing in the sky… And soft muffled sobs. His wand twitched, tugging him in your direction.

“I’m sorry this is happening to you.” Ominis told you, once he was standing in front of you. He could hear the sobs shaking your body as clear as day but still felt compelled to bring his hand to your face, wiping the warm teardrops away from your cheeks with his thumb. “Marvolo really isn’t a suitable match for you.”

“It’s alright, I knew this day would come eventually. I was just hoping my parents wouldn’t force me into this as soon as I was done with school.” You replied, another teardrop falling from your lashes and rolling down your cheek..

“There must be something we can do about it.” Ominis said, instinctively brushing off the fresh tear from your face. “What if you were engaged to someone else ?”

You laughed although you didn’t find anything amusing about the situation.

“During my seven years here, no one ever courted me, no one attempted to ask me on a date, I have no other prospects. And you know as well as I do that my parents shouldn’t risk angering the Gaunts.”

Ominis furrowed his brows. You were right, if your parents broke their promise to marry you off to one of his siblings, they might not make it out alive. If his parents had arranged for you to be wed to Marvolo, it meant they considered your blood pure enough to perpetuate their dignified bloodline. It was a rare occurrence, usually no one was deemed worthy enough so chances were that they’d do everything in their power to ensure that you’d become a Gaunt now that they had approved of you.

If you broke the arrangement to be with someone else, a wizard of lower class and reputation, his father would take it as an offense and you’d have to pay for such a daring act. If you married Marvolo, then surely he would take advantage of you and of your obligation to satisfy your family and his, he’d be cruel and violent, he wouldn’t care about you and would never treat you with the respect you deserved… There was only one option left.

“Marry me.” Ominis stated, determined.

“What ? What are you saying ?” You spoke, dumbstruck by the sudden suggestion.

“My parents want you to ensure the purity of our bloodline, your parents want you to earn the status and power that come with my last name… So marry me instead.”

“Ominis, you don’t have to. I can’t ask you to do that for me, that’s…” You argued, shaking your head.

“It’s a matter of time before my parents arrange a wedding for me too. I think I’d much rather be married to someone I consider a friend than a stranger they would have picked for me. So really, you’d be the one doing me a favor.” Ominis continued, his heart beating faster as he spoke. He knew it was a good idea, it would save you from Marvolo, from his family and, despite being a Gaunt himself, he would do his best to treat you well. He would never hurt you, never mock you, never give you any reason to regret choosing him instead of his brother…

So please, say yes.

His mother adjusted his tie. She told him that the all black suit she had gotten tailored made for him suited him better than anything he ever wore. She said it brought his blue eyes out, and that everyone would be able to tell that he was one of the heirs of the Gaunt name. Ominis wasn’t sure what was meant to be a compliment and what was meant as a jab, but he simply nodded at everything she said.

By the time he walked down to the garden of the imposing manor, his mother’s arm looped in his, he felt dizzy with anxiety. His heart was pounding in his chest, threatening to burst out at any minute. His ribcage felt so tight around his lungs that he could barely breathe correctly, and the more time went by, the more sweaty his hands became.

He could hear the chatter of the numerous guests his parents had invited as they took place around the lectern that had been placed at the very center of the garden. The familiar smell of roses tickled his nose, meaning the white rose bushes must be in full bloom in this season. He could feel the sunshine on his face and the warm summer air on his skin. It was a beautiful day on the gloomy manor.

His mother let go of his arm, leaving him standing on his own in front of what he imagined was an impressive audience of grumpy wizards. He still couldn’t quite catch his breath and, the moment the ambient chatter died down, his throat instantly felt constricted and his body tensed up.

He heard the whispers among the crowd and the footsteps approaching in his direction. It was unmistakably the way of walking of a man, confident and determined while the lighter steps next to his were more hesitant. In the past seven years, Ominis had memorized the sound of your steps. He also could recognize your smell in a crowd and knew exactly how soft your skin felt under his fingers. He could tell if your hair was up or let down from the way you touched and played with it and he knew that the quiet, almost imperceptible breaths you let out meant that you felt nervous. He knew all of this and more yet, he had no idea what it felt like to kiss your lips or hold you in his arms and that felt awfully wrong, considering what you both were about to do.

The man that had accompanied you walked away, leaving you standing with Ominis in front of prying, curious eyes. You didn’t say anything to each other, too busy trying to not pass out from how anxious you both felt. The contract was written and placed on the pupil in front of you, its tricky clauses oozing with dark magic.

It wasn’t just any contract. It was a cursed one, meant to bind you together forever. The words til death do us part took a different meaning as you signed your name at the bottom of the page, knowing that if you ever tried to leave him, you’d most likely be instantly killed by some kind of dark spell that probably was forbidden to cast. The promises you made by signing this contract were definitive and the consequences if you failed to hold them were deadly. At the very least, you both could feel thankful that you weren’t making such vows to a complete stranger.

Ominis signed the parchment too, the ink dripping from the quill dark red like blood. The contract was sealed with applause and illegal magic, making you his wife. For the rest of your lives.

The dinner that followed the ceremony was dull and mostly boring, a display of Mister Gaunt’s power and a lecture on his narrow views about muggles and mudblood wizards, as the guests listened quietly to his speech, nodding in agreement every once in a while. Eventually, Ominis took his leave, pretending that he was exhausted from the events of the day. You excused yourself too, glad to find him waiting for you in the hallway.

He knew the manor he grew up in in details and could navigate it without the help of his wand. He guided you upstairs, through the dark corridor that led to his bedroom. He opened the door for you, letting you step inside first before following you in and shutting the door behind him. He had never had any guest in his bedroom before and that realization made him feel uneasy. He knew that the servants kept his room neat and tidy - just how he liked it - but he wasn’t sure of what you were going to think about the ancient desk he sat at to write his letters to Sebastian, or the books that lined the shelves of bookcases that reached the ceiling. And what about the four poster bed he slept in, he had always found it large and comfortable but suddenly he worried it might be too small to share with you.

“Once we move into our own home we’ll be able to sleep in separate rooms. But for now, I think it’s better if we share mine.” He said, hoping that you wouldn’t feel too uncomfortable here until then.

To convince his parents to let him marry you instead of his brother, he had pretended he was madly, irredeemably in love with you. At first, they didn’t like it, saying that love made men foolish and pushed them to their demise but, eventually, they came to the realization that him wanting you so badly would serve the purpose of continuing their bloodline. Many heirs could be born from such desires.

Now that you were here, in the intimacy of his bedroom, he couldn’t help but think about it. How amazing it would be to kiss you, touch you, make you his as everybody expected him to. But he wouldn’t do it. Mainly because he was a gentleman and had promised himself that he would never, ever, disrespect you. And also because he was determined to not give his parents the satisfaction of having any heirs from him. The Gaunt bloodline was poison, corrupted with dark practices and immorality. Sooner or later, one of them would cause unforgivable chaos in the world, so he was determined to prevent it from happening anyway he could.

“I’m sorry that you had to do this.” You told him, taking a closer look at the books on his nightstand. You sounded sincere, as if you felt guilty that he now had the privilege of calling you his wife. “You should have been able to marry someone you love.”

Ominis had never felt anything remotely close to what was described in the books he read for someone, nor did he experience the crushes Sebastian so often had on a random person every once in a while. The only woman that had somehow interested him was you. He cared about you. And maybe it was an acceptable foundation for a marriage.

“You should have been able to do that too.” You sat on his bed, your wedding dress crunching up above your legs. He approached, heart hammering in his chest. “But for what it’s worth, I consider myself lucky to call you my wife.”

You smiled and reached out to take his hand in yours. His palms were sweaty, as per usual when you were around, but you didn’t seem bothered by that, pulling him so that he’d sit on the bed next to you.

“Do you mind if I try something ?” You asked him, a bit hesitantly. He took a sharp inhale of air, his body straightening up with sudden tension. In appearance, he seemed quite uncomfortable to be sitting so close to you, and even more now that you had asked him such a question, but he nodded despite hating being unsure of what to expect.

You moved closer, slowly. Your scent tickled his nose, he knew it by heart, he had fell asleep more than once to the faint perfume you left on the common room’s couch pillows, usually prompting him to dream of you. He felt your soft, warm breath caress his skin, indicating that your face was inching impossibly close towards his. He held his breath as you pressed your delicate lips to his, giving him a chaste kiss to seal your union, far from prying eyes.

He kept his eyes closed when you moved away, conflicted emotions passing on his face. He wasn’t expecting to feel so many tingles in his stomach after such a light and short kiss, yet even now that you had moved away, he still felt millions of butterflies tingling under his skin. He left out the breath he had been holding, taking just enough air to say your name, softly.

“I’m sorry, I just wanted to know what it felt like.” You apologized, and he knew from the sound of your voice that you must be blushing.

He had wondered what it would feel like to kiss you too, more than he’d like to admit. A friend shouldn’t be curious about such things, it felt wrong to him, like he was betraying you by having such intimate thoughts about you. He hated how conflicted he felt whenever he woke up with an erection because he had spent the night dreaming of you touching him, and he hated how his primal instinct sometimes took over and he’d end up brushing against your chest or your back under the pretense that he couldn’t see what he was doing. He shouldn’t feel so desperate for his friend to kiss him again, and surely he shouldn’t want to be given permission to explore the body of his friend in details… But perhaps, if such desires weren’t acceptable between friends, they could be considered reasonable ones to have for his wife…

“Don’t apologize, we’re married now after all.” He gulped, feeling the temperature of his body rising. “Kissing is one of the many things that will be expected from us.”

You moved, suddenly growing agitated next to him. He could hear the rustle of the fabric of your wedding dress, the sound of clasps being opened and knots getting untied. He didn’t dare to move, not even breathe, as he carefully listened for a clue as to what you were up to. Then, he felt your hands on his chest, slowly undoing the buttons of his vest, one by one.

“What are you doing ?” He asked, his breath catching in his throat when his hands, resting on his lap, brushed against your bare thighs.

“Another thing that is expected of us.” You simply replied, now dragging his vest down his shoulders, before repeating the same actions to remove his shirt. He heard your surprised, yet quiet, gasp and the way your breathing became labored at the sight of his chest. He felt your fingers tracing the lines of his abs, brushing against the blond hair under his navel and grazing the elastic of his pants.

He said your name in a whisper, wanting it to be a warning but coming out like a desperate plea. You shouldn’t be touching him like this, not because it was what your families required of you. You should only do it because you wanted to. So he knew he had to stop you before it went too far, before he wouldn’t be able to refuse, before his body was set ablaze by his repressed lust for yours otherwise, there would be no way of stopping him anymore. He would consume you. Worship you. Devour you. And his promise to never disrespect you would be just a distant memory already, because none of the things he wanted to do to you were respectable.

But you weren’t making it easy for him to keep his word. Your hand was still tracing the lines of his chest like he was some kind of sculpture you were admiring, taking in every detail like he would. And when you moved to sit on his lap, straddling him and trapping him between you and the bed, he tensed up and groaned.

He brought his hands to your hips, telling himself that he’d gently guide you off of him so that he’d be able to remain a gentleman and not take advantage of the admirable loyalty you had for your family with your determination to complete your marital duties right away, but when he felt nothing but your warm skin under his fingers, when you leaned forward to press your naked chest against his and plant another soft kiss on his lips, the remaining of his will power to resist you dissolved.

“We shouldn’t be doing this, we’re friends.” He said, because that was what he usually told himself whenever he thought about you while rubbing himself in the shower. Except he wasn’t the one gripping on his erection this time. You had easily opened up his pants and now the evidence of his desire for you was held tightly in your hand. Your thumb stroked the tip of his erection, spreading the clear drop of precum that had escaped from it over the sensitive pink skin.

“We’re not friends anymore, Ominis. We’re married.” You corrected him, your words destroying the only argument he had to convince himself to not behave like some kind of wild animal as he couldn’t seem to stop his hands from exploring your naked body. “I wasn’t allowed to organize my wedding, chose my dress or invite my friends… Don’t rob me from having a beautiful wedding night. Please.”

His erection twitched in your hand. You were asking so nicely, so politely, for something so intense and passionate, it made him even harder. He put his arm around your waist, securely holding you as he removed you from his lap and laid you down on his bed with a strength you never expected him to have.

“Are you sure this is what you want ?” He inquired, holding himself above you with his hands gripping the headboard, his pants and underwear down to his knees.

“Absolutely.” You confirmed, with a shudder of excitement.

“Very well.” His voice was low, revealing just how badly he wanted this too. He placed a hand on your knee and followed the path all the way up to your core. He could feel the wetness and warmth coming from your center, begging for his attention. He traced the slit between your legs a few times, making you gasp with anticipation. Then, he pushed a finger passed your entrance, your whimper resounding in his ears. He moved his hand in a back and forth motion, not really aiming to pleasure you this way but trying to memorize a path he couldn’t see.

He took his finger out, bringing his hand back to his impatient cock. He wiped your wetness over his tip, mixing it with the fresh drops of precum that coated his skin. Once most of his hard length was slick and sticky, he brought his tip exactly where his finger had been, rubbing it between your wet folds to gather even more moisture before finally pushing it inside you. He heard you gasp loudly and he did too, the tightness of your cunt taking him by surprise.

He easlily managed to slide even deeper, burying his entire length inside of you with a satisfied sigh. He could hear your panting breaths, your soft cries in reaction to his movements inside you and the way you moaned his name, encouraging him to rock his hips against yours a few times.

It was nothing like he had thought it would be. His hand had never made him feel as good as you did, your warmth, wetness and tightness around him were intoxicating. The most wonderful thing he had ever experienced.

He slowly pulled himself almost all the way out, only to shove himself back in with more force. He could feel his tip hitting deep inside you, pleasure building in his abdomen with each of his quick pushes.

The sounds you made were music to his ears, the way you reacted to each of his thrusts was delightful, better than what he had imagined in his most vivid fantasies. He never expected you to be so loud, perfectly showing him how good he was making you feel. He increased his speed and you moaned even louder, practically crying out his name.

He felt your legs closing around his waist, keeping him close while your nails dug into his back, the whole bed shaking in rythym with his movements. Was he too rough ? How could he not be ? It was impossible to be more gentle when the pleasure he felt with each thrust kept intensifying, he was going to lose his mind, chasing the feeling, building it up until he couldn’t take it anymore.

You cried out one more time and your body tensed up, tightening around him so viciously that he finally reached his climax, instantly filling you up with his release. You kept your legs around him, your body spasming with intense pleasure as he struggled to catch his breath for a moment, his thoughts slowly coming back into order.

He waited until your body stopped twitching to remove himself, feeling your shudder as he pulled his spent erection out of you. You still were softly panting, your chest rising and falling under his hand while the other still clasped tightly the headboard. He leaned over, easily finding your lips from which breathless gasps still escaped. He kissed you, gently, as a way to apologize for losing control of himself and felt relieved when you returned his kiss even more fervently.

He moved to his side, lying down next to you to give you enough space to catch your breath but you inched closer, nuzzling your naked body against his in a cuddle that felt even more intimate than what he had just did to you.

“Thank you.” You said softly, sounding truly happy. Ominis smiled, his fingers absently caressing your back, playing with strands of your now messy hair. “I’m glad to have you as my husband.”

Husband. The word turned in his head, reminding him that you now were officially a couple. Mrs Ominis Gaunt; his best friend, his wife, his lover… His.

31 notes · View notes

some-pers0n · 21 hours

Text

Memoir of an Albatross

Chapter 4 - Have Mercy on a Wounded Bird

[1] [2] [3] [4]

(Art by Loquatic)

Chapter Description: Queen Lagoon is throwing a party, much to Albatross's displeasure. However, it is only then when it is revealed that Lagoon has certain plans for his brother's future.

Five years had since passed Queen Lagoon's rise to power, and yet Albatross still had not felt any more respected the day since he hatched. If anything, he felt as though this newer attention was more fabricated and soulless.

These days, he would receive praise and admiration for his magic. Any dragons who stopped by for the queen would bow their heads to him. They'd call him "Albatross the Animus Prince", as though him having these powers and being of royal blood was something other than a curse he begrudgingly accepted. They talked about how powerful he was. They spoke of him as this glorious dragon.

He knew what they thought though. He knew that they thought he was just as deplorable and horrific as when he was a hatchling. They just now had to be nice since he's capable of harm. They know what animus dragons can do, even without being aware of what he's done to Sapphire and Queen Gannet. In some ways, it felt no different than being politely ignored and glossed over; just that now he had to stand around with dragons.

Yet, life could be worse. Could be better though. For as many edits and changes as Lagoon's reign had brought with it, Albatross's internal life remained the same. For one, Sapphire had not returned. Lagoon had visited with her several times, all of which she came back with the same news: Sapphire had not forgiven him. She hated him with all of her fragmented mind. She did not want to return as long as he was still alive.

He couldn't blame her. Who would forgive a dragon like him? A dragon who had been so easily influenced by his darker thoughts and gave way to the temptation of violence and destruction. He was but an animal compared to the rest of them.

At least that's what Lagoon implied from her lectures. She would go on and on these days about how she needed his magic. That his magic was a dangerous force bestowed onto him by the moons themselves or whatever spiritual belief she held. He only saw them as a sick joke, one that only Lagoon found funny.

He had been her glorified circus freak for her to parade around at parties. There had been many since her uprising, and while they did certainly bring more diplomatic leaders and open trade routes and better relations with the surrounding kingdoms, Albatross found them a waste of time. Had he been able to skip them, he would have found some joy.

Yet, his home, the Island Palace, was used as her party area. It was the one thing he wanted, his own place away from Lagoon, and even then she abused it as her party palace. His emotions became secondary, as she would drop by and announce to him that she was hosting some new event between her and whatever queen this time. How wonderful. Even better with her parading him around like an object to ogle at.

He felt more alone and isolated at those parties than ever before. He had to put up a charming, nice exterior, even if all he wanted to do was just retreat into his quarters and wait until all the guests were gone. Play nice. He didn't hate the dragons he saw, not at all, but rather felt as though they were never genuine. Playing up a nice, friendly facade like he was.

He was tired of it all. He wanted to be alone, forever.

"Albatross?" a voice called for him.

"Hm? Yes?"

"You've been standing near the fruit and juice area for a while. Are you alright?" The dragon tilted his head to the side.

It was Humpback, Lagoon's husband and King of the SeaWings. Better yet, a brother-in-law. He was nice enough; certainly a lot better than Lagoon, that's for sure. He was an upper-class noble, one that Lagoon took an interest in. He tended to ramble about his life back then, but anything he said was infinitely more preferable to being around Lagoon. He at the very least cared about him a little.

"Yeah, I'm just a little tuckered from the chit-chat," he laughed. "Standing by here, sipping this...juice." He took a sniff from his chalice. "Mango and pineapple blend, right? Though, I'm also getting a hint of lime too."

"Couldn't tell you, honestly. All I know is that the guests love it." He grinned, checking Albatross in the side playfully. "Why don't you come on out later? When you've mentally recovered a bit. It's not like this is some big diplomatic meeting anyway. Just a bunch of dragons."

He looked around. They were in the central room, one that was connected to the rest of the halls and areas. Water flowed through river-like paths on the floor, just barely deep enough to go up to his talons. Tables were set up along the sides, carrying rows upon rows of meat, fruit, and drink. SeaWings of all shapes and colours were dotted all around, chatting with one another. Some on the floor, some on the balcony. All of them nobles from various houses, coming together for some grand reason that only Lagoon seemed to know.

In the center-most part of the palace was Lagoon herself, her voice somewhat audible to Albatross even amongst the deafening sounds of dragons laughing and talking. She was with some SeaWing noble he had never seen before, showing them the statue. She blabbed about its marbling and how beautiful it was. The same inane mumblings he had heard a dozen times over.

Then, Lagoon looked at Albatross. Even across the room, her eyes were piercing. He knew she wanted him over. To have him there as some symbol of the power she has. For him to be this performing animal.

"Oh, that's her." Humpback clicked his tongue. "Might wanna get over there before she starts nagging in your ear about it." He snickered. "Geez, I can't blame you for sticking your distance if you had to grow up with her."

"That's an...odd thing to say about your wife," he said.

"What? Joking about her being a bit of a you-know-what? I mean, it's just pointing out the obvious."

"Well, you would be right. She can be a real pain in the tail..." He grumbled. "I don't know though." He shook his head. "I find it somewhat strange to sort of make fun of her."

"Oh c'mon! She yells at you all the time, and you're defending her from a lil' comment. Besides, you'll understand once you're married." Humpback nudged him. "Speaking of which, any plans for that?"

Albatross bit his tongue. Admittedly, no, he had not been thinking about getting married. The thought didn't even cross his mind. He knew it had to happen sometime, all dragons in this family eventually have to settle with somebody, but he didn't feel anything. No real pull or desire to rest with another. Whenever he imagined his future, he saw himself happily alone.

"Honestly? I've got nothing for plans." He shrugged. "I don't really think I'll settle for a while."

"Ahh, wanna stick with the bachelor life? Trust me, it was great. But, y'know, the time comes. Plus it's somewhat hard to pass up becoming royalty when the SeaWing Queen herself comes and drags you along to be her husband. Drags you away from that great ol' life, but, hey, this gig ain't that bad either. Just miss the freedom of doing whatever I wanted without coming back to see somebody scream about how reckless it was. Constantly on your case about the smallest things. Annoying, really."

Albatross blinked. "Is that really how you feel about Lagoon?" he asked, barely masking his disbelief. Is that really how a dragon is supposed to feel about their partner?

Humpback paused to sip his drink. He laughed. "Like I said, Albatross, you'll understand one day."

Albatross awkwardly laughed. "Haha, yeah..." He swirled the drink in his talons. What felt more uncomfortable than Humpback's comments was still the idea of settling with another. It was strange more so the fact he couldn't place a claw on why he felt that way. Maybe it was from him being young, but even so, he was eleven years old. Somewhat exiting his young adult years.

Maybe it was time for him to find somebody to spend the rest of his life with. Yet, the very thought of that made his scales itch. Why?

"Hey!" Another voice squawked in his ear. It was sharp and made him jump.

"Moons above– Lagoon?"

"Yes, it's Lagoon. I was trying to call you over for ages, and you just ignored me." Her scales were lit ever so slightly and her ears were pink from embarrassment. "Come. You're better off entertaining some lovely guests instead of standing there."

"Why should I?"

"They're bored and want to have a little chat with you. They think I'm an idiot.They think I can't even get my stubborn brother to do what I say."

"I doubt that somehow."

"Just come over. Stop being a grouch. Loosen up a little!" she said. From behind, Albatross could make out the faint sound of Humpback snorting.

She grabbed him by the talons. "Get over here." She began dragging him along. "You're like a hatchling. Can't you listen to me for once in your life?"

He pulled his talons away. "You don't have to treat me like that," he said, a little harsher than he'd like. "I can walk on my own." He glanced back at Humpback. "Nice getting to talk with you."

"No problem! Besides, now I can eat all the scavenger sashimi I want." He grabbed one of the delicacies in question, plopping it into his mouth. "Good idea sticking around here. Maybe I'll stay and eat all the snacks too."

"No, dear, you'll have to be with me soon enough. King business."

"Aw..." He looked at her with the eyes of a baby turtle. Sad, vaguely pathetic, yet somewhat cute.

Albatross let out a small, bemused chuckle. He then turned back to Lagoon, trailing behind her. "What do you want with me To have me explain how I made that statue of you again?"

"No, actually. Besides, I only made you do that twice."

"Twice more than I should have."

"You just can't help yourself but complain about everything, huh?" she asked. "I try and make light conversation and include you and all you do is whine and pout." She shook her head. "At least smile this time."

"I always smile. That's what I'm supposed to do at these parties, no?"

"Well, yes, but not that way. The way that shows all of your weird teeth. Fewer teeth, a little less wide. You look like a serial killer that way."

"Thanks Lagoon. You're always the best with compliments."

"Tone down the sarcasm as well. You're always like this at parties. This time it's slightly important. You need to make a nice impression."

Lagoon's face lifted as they approached the SeaWings she had been chatting with earlier. A complete shift in character. "Apologizes for the wait, Prince Albatross simply was helping himself to the buffet. Have you tried any? The best chefs in Pyrrhia have prepared the most delicious platter of seafood a dragon could ask for. Be a shame if it went to waste."

Two SeaWings stood before them. Behind was an imposing marble fountain of Lagoon. Sculpted from marble, it displayed the queen holding a spear above her head. Water flowed from the spouts below her talons, pooling in the basin.

That statue was one of the things Lagoon had asked Albatross to enchant for her. Her old sculptor had fallen ill and Lagoon didn't want to wait until they had gotten better. Instead, she had given him the diagrams and asked him to create it with the bonus of being a fountain as well. He tried to argue back, but she insisted. He complied.

Oddly enough, since that enchantment and many others before, he grew more irritated and sensitive to Lagoon's chatter. Most voices and noises in general were harsher on the ears, but Lagoon's voice in particular stood out as being shrill, especially when she raised her voice. He had chalked it up to getting older, and yet, something didn't feel right about it. Looking at that statue only reminded him of that.

"Oh, thank you, your majesty. We'll be sure to see." One SeaWing, one with sandy yellow scales and cloudy grey eyes, spoke before her husband could get a chance to. "And thank you for bringing Albatross!"

Guests had a habit of crowding and even demanding for Albatross whenever these parties happened. By all means, he is the first-ever SeaWing animus. They'd come and ask him basic questions like how he discovered his magic, to which he gave a fake story about reading a scroll that described it and jokingly tried to see if he had it. Perfectly mundane.

"Yes, yes, Albatross, the grand SeaWing animus," he playfully began. "A little birdie here told me that you two wanted a chance to meet me. Well, today is your lucky day!" He tipped his head lightly. "Whereabouts are you two from?"

The blue-white SeaWing tried to speak once again, only to be cut off by his wife. "We're from the Shifting Sands Grotto. That whole general region."

"Oh? Really?" He tried to mask his mild surprise. The Shifting Sands Grotto wasn't typically a place where Lagoon would invite guests. They were mainly a neglected area on a small island near Maelstrom's Eye. A common area mainly for trade. Not seedy or dangerous by any means, but nothing of note.

Lagoon didn't typically care for commoners. She would make passing remarks about their whininess whenever an advisor would tell her things. Strange that she would act this way to dragons who are, at best, minor nobility. Albatross would've figured she'd laugh in their face. What was she up to?

"I recall visiting there once," Albatross continued. "Very wonderful place. Is it true that the typhoons are as bad as they say?"

"Well, yes, of course. My dragonets always love going out during those storms though." She shook her head. "Reckless. However, our eldest always listened to my pleas. Oh! I'm Perch, and this is my husband, Swordfish. Terribly sorry, I forgot to introduce ourselves."

"Pleased to make your acquaintance." He smiled. Fewer teeth, less wide.

Perch turned towards Lagoon. "So, will you announce it now?"

"Hm, why not? I figure it's about time. We're only putting it off if we wait any longer." Lagoon looked at the wine chalice in her talons.

"What announcement?"

"What announcement?" Perch echoed. She snickered. "Prince Albatross, you're so funny. Modest and humble too."

Before he could get another word out, Lagoon's voice boomed. "Attention guests!" She spoke like a clap of thunder. "Thank you all for coming here on this fine evening! I ask of you to gather around for a very important announcement."

"I'm so happy for you, Prince Albatross." Perch crooned. "But, where is she? Marlin should be here as well. Swordfish, do you know where she is?"

"Dunno. She wandered off. Said she was getting some food." He shrugged.

"Well, she'll hear the news. Oh, she'll be overjoyed."

"I'm sorry, did I miss a memo or something?" Albatross awkwardly laughed. "What is going on?"

Once more, the only answer he received was the voice of his sister. Despite being several paces from her, it was like she was talking directly into his ear. "Thank you, thank you." She thanked the crowd as they all turned to her, shushing themselves. "Tonight is a very special night where we will honour two dragons in this very room right now. This arrangement will lead to prosperity in our kingdom, as we will have further generations with gifts bestowed onto us by the moons themselves."

She glanced back at Albatross. A coy, wicked smirk was painted on her face. "Tonight, I am pleased to announce the engagement between Marlin, daughter of Perch and Swordfish, and Prince Albatross, royal animus my very own brother."

It was as though a tsunami had crashed down on him. Within an instant, his stomach dropped. His eyes widened, becoming little more than dark circles of shock, fear, and horror. A lump formed in his throat. He struggled to find the words. What words could he even say?

Why was she doing this? An arranged marriage?! No. No, no, no. This wasn't right. This wasn't fair. She could order him around and scold him, but to do this? Was she out of her mind? She knew he was hesitant to marry. Why? How?

Between the mass clapping and clamouring, he saw a lone dragon on the other side of the room. Standing next to some boiled snails was a dragon, the same silent horror painted on her face. Her overscales were a deep, rich navy blue. Her webbed spines were long and her barbels dangled. She had yellow streaks and hints in combination with her golden bioluminescent scales. Her eyes, the hue the same as a golden hour over the sea, were still. Trapped in this expression of shock.

That had to be Marlin. His fiancé.

He couldn't hear what Lagoon was blabbing about. It sounded like rogue waves crashing against him, dragging him under the waters. He stared at the dragon in disbelief. She looked just as scared and confused as he was.

He did this. Because of his inability to find a partner of some kind, Lagoon decided to drag things into her own talons. Now he's doomed this dragon to stay with him. That's what he always does anyway. Hurts dragons.

"Pardon me, please." He mumbled. He pushed passed dragons, quelling their remarks by saying that he just needed a moment. He began to shut down, feeling as though he was acting wholly on instinct rather than conscious choices. Back in this dissociative state.

He walked aimlessly through the halls of the Island Palace. His talons clicked against the cold floor. What was he supposed to do? There was no way he could convince Lagoon to call it off. She was stubborn as an orca. His stomach felt more like a bottomless pit. His limbs were heavy. He couldn't think straight. Thoughts crashed into one another. Rigorous self-critique, parroting everything Lagoon ever said. It was a storm of self-hatred and anger.

He managed to find his room. He took a sharp breath the second he entered, gritting his teeth. He could feel tears attempting to form in his eyes. Why was he having such a violent reaction? It was an arranged marriage entirely without his consent or knowledge, but this cut deep in him. A nerve he never knew existed that had been sliced.

He kept pacing back and forth, picking at his webbing. Same old nervous tick, but never to this degree. Why was this happening to him? What had he done for the moons to curse him like this?

Then, from behind him, felt a new presence. He turned, choking back a small sob.

The SeaWing. Marlin. She was in the doorway, her expression more sympathetic and gentle.

"Hey, are you okay?" she asked. The question sounded so absurd (obviously he was not okay), but the way she framed it made him feel slightly more relaxed.

Albatross bit his tongue. "If I'll be perfectly honest: no, not exactly."

"Yeah..." she sighed. "I can't believe any of this is happening. I'm sorry."

There was an odd way in which she spoke. She sounded so genuine. Not in a way like Lagoon being bluntly rude, but like she was trying to talk with him.

"I can leave if you want. It's a lot. For both of us, but you seem to be...well, not too great."

The corners of Albatross's mouth perked up. "Yeah, hah. I'm just..." He placed his talons on his head. "Moons above, what's gotten into me?"

"If it helps, I'd try to focus on something. I get like this sometimes, but one of my younger brothers has it a lot more. Maybe you could focus on the waves."

The only real thing of comfort to him was the thoughts about her. Trying to figure her out. Why was she like this? Why did she talk to him like this? She only just met him. He never knew she existed until a few minutes ago. How could a dragon be so kind despite everything he is? Isn't he the royal animus, harbinger of a new era to the Kingdom of the Sea with his magic?

Why was she normal about him?

"Again, it's okay if I can leave–"

"Please, no," he blurted out. "No, wait. No, you can leave if you want. I don't want to force you to stay if you don't. You've already been more than helpful." He mustered up every ounce of strength to say those words.

Marlin's gaze softened. She took a step forward. "If it makes you feel a little better, I can be here to talk to."

"...why would you want to do that?" he asked.

"Why wouldn't I?"

"Am I not Albatross? You must have heard about what they've said. I mean, look at me." He gestured to himself. "My eyes, my snout, my weird tail, even the way I talk, it's all off. It's different. Most dragons can't stand to be around me that long. Get weirded out."

"Why would they? You seem nice."

"Why would you stay then?"

"Because you seem nice."

He paused. "How could you know that?"

She tapped her talons on the floor. "I've definitely heard about you. I guess even then I thought it was sorta weird how they'd point at you like you're some deity or some blemish on the family. I thought they were overblowing things. That isn't to say I wasn't shocked when I heard I was being shipped off to marry you; and, moons above, it still feels so surreal to me."

She looked at him. "Then I saw you. You had this look that undid every sort of belief I had about you." She shook her head in disbelief. "I don't think I've ever seen a dragon look like that. You weren't some regal, intimidating, fancy-schmancy royal animus. You were just some normal dragon."

She chuckled. "Sounds weird, but I dunno. That's how I felt. I saw you run away and I wanted to help. I don't even really know if this is helping you or not either."

"It's...helping," he muttered. His heart began to slow. He could breathe easier now. "Thank you, Marlin."

"No problem. Helping you actually made me a little calmer. Thank you, uh... Albatross? Are you fine with that?"

"More than fine. Just call me Albatross." He smiled. He didn't care if he showed his teeth and was a bit too wide.

Maybe, out of all of the dragons that Lagoon could have paired him up with, she had picked the one that could perhaps be his friend.

#sp-writing #wof #wings of fire #albatross wof #wings of fire fanfic #wof fanfic #MARLIN MARLIN I LOVE MARLIN MARLINNNNNNNN!!!!

27 notes · View notes

softstarlite · 2 days

Text

Se nos rompió el amor

CHAPTER 3

Summary: You thought your love was strong and could conquer everything, I guess you were wrong...

Warnings: implied age gap, mentions of pregnancy, mention of symptoms of pregnancy, adorable father and daughter in law interactions, angst, awkwardness.

Rating: +18

Word count: 1.4k (sorry this one is short)

Chapter 1 / Chapter 2 / Masterlist

Divider by @saradika-graphics

It had been two months since you left Colombia and Javi behind; after a good long talk with Chucho the day after you landed on Laredo, you moved to the ranch´s guest room. Chucho hadn't been anything but kind and excited for the arrival of his grandkid. In these two months, you had already felt so close to him, he had hold your hair in the mornings while you suffered from morning sickness, you almost had to fight him so he would let you help around the ranch, on the mornings that you would wake up later, he would already left on the kitchen counter a coffee just like you like it, somehow still steaming like he had just done it.

You had decided to not contact Javi in these two months, but you knew that the change from one weekly phone call to now two or even three wasn't a coincidence, you even heard Chucho once talking with him on the kitchen phone, how he was telling Javi about your symptoms.

According to the local doctor´s calculations, you were on week 13 of your pregnancy. If it weren't for the morning sickness and the sometimes migraine, you wouldn't even remember that you are expecting.

It's around 6pm when you're preparing some dinner for both you and Chucho in the ranch´s kitchen, Chucho was staying until later working on the ranch chores since there had been an incident with one of the cows earlier on the day, you´re listening to a tango, Garufa by Malevaje, on your favorite spanish radio station while humming alongside it. You can remember your grandfather, your dad's dad, singing that tango all the time when you were little and then later about your dad teaching you the lyrics when you were a teen and your grandad had passed away.

The kitchen phone startles you when it starts to ring, you wipe your hands on the yellow apron you´re wearing and then walk across the kitchen to pick up the phone.

“Peña´s ranch” you say while keeping an eye on the bubbling sauce by the kitchen fires. You only hear an intake of air on the other side of the phone call but nothing more, your eyebrows furrowed in confusion “someone there?” the person on the other end clears their throat before saying your name, Javi´s voice being revealed to be the person calling.

“I was expecting pops…” before you have a chance to apologize and offer to go looking for Chucho, he asks “How are you? Pops said that the sickness was getting tough…”

“Umm… Yeah, yes” it's your turn to clear your throat “it's getting hard to cook anything without gagging lately” you let out an awkward chuckle.

“Mrs. Alvarez told me that when she had her sons, ginger worked great for her morning sickness” It surprises you that he even mentioned to the elderly woman, from the fruit stand that you both used to always buy from, about your pregnancy.

“Oh, I…I´ll try it” after a `good´ from him, an uncomfortable and awkward silence falls between you two “I got to go Javier, I have a sauce on the stove…” you break the silence making Javi regret not breaking it himself so he could keep you on the phone a little longer.

“Yeah, claro (sure), just tell pops to phone me when he can i guess” he curses himself as soon as he says it for not coming up with something that would make you stay on the call a bit longer. A small silence falls between you yet again before you hang the phone again on the wall.

Your hand goes to the swell on your stomach and you let out a sigh, you realize that a tear has escaped your eye when it hits your lips. You sniff and wipe your eyes, then you try to stabilize yourself with a deep breath to continue the dinner.

Later that night when Chucho and you are on the table eating the dinner that you had made, you put down your fork and swallow your bite of food.

“Javi called earlier…” you inform him while fidgeting with a crumb on the table. Chucho stops his fork mid air and puts it down as well.

“Oh… I'll call him after we are finished” he answers without giving it much more thought, to take tension from the situation. You decide to finally clear your doubts.

“Does he…does he ever ask about me or the baby?” you ask with nervous eating you.

This proves to be something that hits Chucho hard because he sits straight on his chair and takes a sip of his beer to clear his throat.

“No te confundas mija (Don't confuse yourself mija), Javier loves you and that baby more than anything, but you found a troubled man, corazón (heart)” he reaches across the kitchen table to hold your hand and give a squeeze “I'm not justifying him, will never do it, eso solo me haría un mal padre (that would only make me a bad father), but I know Javier is a man that carries a lot of trauma with him. He doesn't talk about it much, but he has done things done there that would make both of our stomachs turn, he needs for all of that to mean something, mija”

You weren't oblivious, after all you lived with Javier and you had seen what his job did to him personally. But you had never thought of it like that, of everything needing to have meaning to him. Javier had opened up to you about his trauma with mother, how he blamed himself everyday of her death, saying that no good son wold live her mother´s side when she gets diagnosed with a cancer, how him not being there was like another illness for her, how it made her only worse; you obviously told him that that was all in his head, that he was a loving son, you could see it and hear it when he would talk to Chucho over the phone, that his mother would´ve of never blame him for anything, that she understood Javier, bt Javier was convinced of his truth so all you could was hold him and comfort him.

“Si hay alguien en el mundo (if there´s someone in this world) that i'll always know, that' s my child, mija. You´ll understand it in not too long yourself” he gives your hand another squeeze, so your gaze that had fallen to you plate goes back to his own “And i know that my Javier loves my grandchild more than anything in his entire life, in a way he even feels that what he is doing is for the good of his child…”

That only brings tears to your eyes, you try to contain but you already know that Chcho can see them. Your hand is the one squeezing Chucho´s, you take off the napkin resting on your lap and put it on the table, then you separate your hand from his.

“I think i'm not hungry anymore, if you don't mind, I think i'll go and rest a bit” you say with a choking voice. trying to not burst into sobs in front of your child's abuelo.

Chucho immediately understands and nods “Of course, mija. No te preocupes por los trastes (Don't worry about the dishes)” he tells you with the try of a comforting smile.

You don't answer anything back and quickly make your way to your designated room.

Once the door of your room is closed and your back is pressed to it, a hand goes to your chest and you try to get the tears to go away. You want to blame them on your pregnancy hormones but you know that even you couldn't believe that.

Closing your eyes you can see yourself and Javi on the couch of your shared apartment in Colombia, sharing an ice cream tub due to the excruciating heat of summer while watching a soap opera and laughing together at how silly it was.

Your heart can't help but to hurt inside your ribcage, hurting because your happy memories with Javier now only bring tears to your eyes and sadness to your heart…

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal characters #narcos fanfiction #narcos #pedro pascal x reader #chucho peña narcos #narcos javier peña #javier peña #javier peña x f!reader #javier peña x female reader #javier peña x reader #javier pena #javier pena x f!hispanic reader #javier peña x f!hispanic reader #javier pena x f!reader #javier pena x female reader #javier pena fic #narcos javier pena #javier peña fic

23 notes · View notes

where-does-the-heart-lie · 2 hours

Note

I'm up way later than I need to be and listening to music while I draw and this song gives me SUCH Sabo feelings and I would love to hear your opinions!! (Never Love An Anchor by The Crane Wives)

https://music.youtube.com/watch?v=Y07xArvIvjw&si=ffMbMHTWuHHnxY2C

You dare bring. The Crane Wives. Into this peaceful household.

Never Love an Anchor no less.

RELATING THE SONG TO THE BLORBO FROM MY SHOW NO LESS

The audacity.

Anyway.

youtube

Yeah it makes me think about how Sabo left Ace and Luffy on his own accord at the end. Of course it was a last resort but he left them because he knew that this was the only way for them all to be free.

He left knowing that he would probably not see him until they were 17. Or maybe even never again.

He left them so that they could be safe. Because as long as long as he was with him, as far as he could see, hands would still try to claim him, resulting in the ones he loves getting hurt.

There was no winning for Sabo or any of them. As long as he tried delaying the inevitable, it just never would have happened.

He had to give up what he loved so he could keep it.

And then after he regains his memories, him thinking how much he’s changed. His claws might hurt the one he loves so dearly, even though at this point he doesnt even know him anymore. What if when Luffy finds out that he was alive, it only hurts him deeper. Knowing that there was someone who would have made a difference that day wasnt there. Reliving not only that day in the moment of reuniting, but the say he lost Sabo, too.

I dont find it strange that Sabo didnt try to reunite with Luffy until dressrosa. And in fact i think that reuniting with luffy is something he did as an absolute last resort. I think he truly didnt want to meet him that day at all.

In the anime alone, it doesnt much show it, but in the manga and the Episode of Sabo his hesitance and nerves are really clear to me. He takes a second before he starts walking to talk to luffy. His hand is clutched and shaking. He walks as slowly as he can. And also he only does it after he knows that Luffy cant get the fruit.

They both need that fruit safe. An heirloom of their precious brother, the only thing they have left that can life on from him.

If Luffy could’ve finished that tournament, im fairly certain Sabo would’ve never revealed himself.

I think he feels like he might hurt luffy if he did, but i also think that he didnt feel he deserved it. To reunite with Luffy after all that time. After all that happened.

Going back to the song, the lyrics

“So, I did the only thing that i could And severed the rope to set you sailing from my harbor.”

Even though it was Sabo who went sailing from the harbor, what he was doing was sever the rope from his connections with luffy and Ace so that they could grow and be free without worrying about being held back by him and the weight of his life keeping him suffocating at the bottom of the harbor he’s being drowned in.

If sabo had successfully left Goa that day, and he had reunited with Ace or Luffy somewhere down the line, i think he would act the same way he did in dressrosa that day. I think he would feel his baggage is too much, someone could be after him. And he wouldnt want to reunite. Especially after how he left them.

To me, that letter didnt read as a “i hope i see you again”, but a “goodbye forever”. Which i mean,,,, it was one, at least in Ace’s case, so … 🤷‍♀️ kill me

Anyway, the sentencing of your crimes of Crane Wives-ing me will be capital punishment, i hope you understand.

Thanks for the ask!

#ask reply #@silkentine #music recs #sabo #asl brothers

29 notes · View notes

formulauno98 · 2 days

Text

Waking Up In Vegas | Chapter Two

Inspired by our favourite Spanish paddock Dilf and his late-night shenanigans.

Word Count: 2k

Warnings: Mentions of Alcohol

Author’s Notes: Disclaimer, purely fiction, no-one is taken in this alt-universe.

“What the fuck?” was all you could manage. “How?”

Fernando’s eyes suddenly went dark and he clenched his jaw, clearly furious. “You tricked me!”

“What?” you gasped, taken aback. “No! I didn’t even remember any of this until just now!”

“Convenient,” he spat, tossing the paper onto the bed. “I can’t believe this. Do you have any idea what this could do to my career?”

You stared at him, feeling a mixture of anger and hurt, surprised that the man who was just asking about pancakes and calling you his angel could suddenly switch on you, “And what about me? This isn’t exactly a dream come true for me either!”

He shook his head, pacing the room. “I need to talk to my lawyer.”

“Fine,” you snapped, feeling the heat of the argument rising. “You do that. Meanwhile, I’ll be trying to figure out how to fix this mess!”

With that, you stormed out of the bedroom, grabbing your dress and slipping it on quickly. You had no idea where your shoes were, but you didn’t care. You just needed to get out of there.

As you made your way through into the living area, you could hear Fernando muttering angrily in Spanish behind you.

“Wait.” he called out, “I am sorry, my temper got the better of me. Please stay. I ordered our breakfast.”

Turning around to face him, you could see that he did at least look apologetic.

“That wasn’t very nice to accuse me like that. You don’t even know me,” you said sadly.

“I know.” said Fernando, making his way towards you, “How about we sit down, have some food and figure this out? I have an hour before I need to be at the track, do you have time to also stay?”

Sighing, you knew you needed to figure this out, “Sure, I can stay. If you’re sure you don’t need to go yet?”

“Of course,” Fernando said, his charming demeanour returning in an almost frightening one-eighty.

---

As you both settled at the dining table a knock at the door announced the arrival of room service. Fernando answered it, allowing the waiter to set up a lavish spread of pancakes, fruit salad, coffee, and tea for you to enjoy.

You couldn’t help but feel a little embarrassed knowing that the waiter likely knew who Fernando was and was busy eyeing you up curiously. You had to admit that it did appear an outwardly strange setting, Fernando wrapped up in his bathrobe whilst you were back in your tight little dress from the night before, sitting together for what seemed to be a civilised breakfast.

"Thank you," Fernando thanked the waiter, tipping him generously before closing the door. He turned back to you with a sheepish smile. "Let’s eat and think. There has to be a way to solve this without it becoming a disaster for both of us. Fuck, my head is spinning."

You nodded in agreement, your own head throbbing, reaching for a pancake to ease the hangover, "Okay. Let’s start with what we do know, we got married at a chapel last night, which means there should be some sort of record aside from our certificate, right? Maybe they can annul it if we explain the situation."

Fernando's eyes lit up with a hint of hope. "That's a good idea. We can call the chapel and ask about the process."

You pulled out your now-charged phone and started searching for the chapel's number. As you did, Fernando's phone rang. He glanced at the screen and his face paled.

“Sorry I need to take this, It's my agent," he said, hesitating before answering. "Hello?"

You watched as his expression shifted from worry to confusion to outright shock. "What? Are you sure? No of course not. Yes I understand, I will come to the track soon."

Hanging up, he looked at you with wide eyes. "That was my agent. There's a rumour going around that I got married last night and the press are already on it."

Your stomach dropped. "How could they possibly know already?"

"I have no idea," Fernando replied, running a hand through his hair. "But we need to handle this carefully. If we make any wrong moves, it could blow up even more."

Just then, your phone buzzed with a message. It was from one of your friends, and it included a link to a gossip website with the headline: "Formula One’s Fernando Alonso’s Secret Vegas Wedding – Who's the Mystery Bride?"

You felt sick to your stomach, this situation was dire enough as it was without word getting out that you’d been so blisteringly drunk that you’d managed to marry a virtual stranger in Vegas.

"Oh my God," you muttered exasperately, showing him the screen. "What do we do? I’m a nobody, surely they won’t care who I am?”

Fernando stared at the headline, then looked at you with a determined expression. "No. They will. They will hound you.” Leaning back into his chair, he put his hands together, deep in thought, “What we can do is take control of the narrative. I will call my publicist and see what she advises. It’s too late to make it disappear.”

You nodded, feeling a strange mix of fear and excitement. "Okay, you tell me what to do and I’ll do it to make it go away. I’m so sorry Fernando."

Fernando smiled a genuine one this time. "It’s alright, mi ángel. We can turn this around and make it work for us."

Fernando’s genuine smile did little to calm your nerves, but it was a start. “Let’s break things down,” he said, pouring himself a cup of coffee. “First, we contact the chapel and ask about getting an annulment. That’s step one.”

“Agreed,” you said, taking a sip of your tea. “I’ve got the number right here. Should I call them now?”

“Yes, please,” Fernando replied, nodding. “While you do that, I’ll get in touch with my publicist.”

You dialled the chapel’s number, the ringing feeling like it lasted an eternity before a cheerful voice answered. You explained your situation as concisely as possible, feeling a mix of relief and embarrassment as the person on the other end reassured you that these things happened more often than one might think.

“We can start the annulment process right away,” the chapel representative said. “You’ll need to come in and sign some papers, but it should be straightforward.”

“Thank you,” you said, ending the call and relaying the information to Fernando.

He nodded, then stepped away to call his publicist. As you nibbled on a piece of fruit, you couldn’t help but overhear snippets of his conversation. Words like “damage control,” “press conference,” and “spin” floated through the air, each one making your stomach churn a little more.

Fernando returned, looking more composed. “My publicist thinks we should release a statement before the race, and own it. If we can show a united front and explain that it was not a drunken, wild night, it might play in our favour. The public loves a good romance story.”

“A statement? Saying what? That we’re a happily married couple?” you echoed, feeling your anxiety spike. “I don’t know if I can do that, Fernando. I’m not used to being in the spotlight and besides, we don’t know each other, we’ll be found out in no time.”

He reached across the table, taking your hand. “I know it’s a lot to ask, but it’s the best way to handle this. We control the narrative, remember? We can turn this around.”

You took a deep breath, squeezing his hand. “Okay. I’ll go along with it.”

Taglist: @flippittygibbitts @graciewrote @lirikonjaa @hc-dutch

#f1 x reader #fernando alonso fic #fernando alonso #f1 fanfic

25 notes · View notes