#and he was in tears about how happy he was that he was killed and he was finally finally at rest
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Pequeña
Happy Nation: A Series of Standalone Fics
Fernando Alonso x Webber!Reader
Summary: a brutal breakup leads you right into the arms of one of your father's oldest friends (or in which being sooooo normal about Fernando Alonso runs in the Webber family)
Warnings: 18+ content, age gap, taking advantage of an emotionally vulnerable state, breeding, and pregnancy
You sit hunched on your bed, knees pulled up to your chest as tears stream down your face. Your mobile vibrates again and you swipe away another message from your now ex-boyfriend without reading it. How could he do this to you? You thought what you had was real.
Your thoughts drift to home, to your family thousands of miles away in Australia. You long for your dad’s comforting embrace and your mum’s reassuring words. But they’re so far away. You feel painfully alone in this strange English city where you’ve come to attend university.
Before you can stop yourself, you’re dialing a familiar number. It rings three times before a warm voice picks up. “Hola pequeña! What’s wrong?”
“N-Nando ...” You sniffle, trying and failing to keep your voice from cracking. “He … he cheated on me.”
There’s a pause before Fernando responds, his Spanish lilt taking on a protective edge. “That little hijo de puta. I’ll kill him myself.”
You let out a watery laugh. “No, don’t do that. I … I just miss home. Miss my family.”
“Say no more, pequeña. You’re coming to stay with me for a bit, yeah? Can’t have you all alone like this.”
You hesitate, wiping at your tears. “Are you sure? I don’t want to impose ...”
“Impose?” Fernando laughs. “My favorite girl? Never. I’m sending a car to get you right now.”
“No, no, I can drive myself-”
“You’ll do no such thing in this state,” he chides. “Driver’s on his way. Go pack a bag.”
You open your mouth to protest again but think better of it. Fernando can be extremely stubborn when he wants to be. “Okay, okay. Thank you, Nando. Really.”
“De nada, pequeña. I’ve got the guest room all ready for you. We’ll get through this together, yeah?”
His soothing Spanish accent is already making you feel infinitely better. You know Fernando has been close with your family for years, has watched you grow up into the young woman you are today. He’s always treated you like his own daughter.
“I’m looking forward to it,” you say, meaning it. Spending time with Fernando is guaranteed to lift your spirits. “Your place in Silverstone, right?”
“That’s the one. Get packing and don’t worry about a thing. I’ll see you very soon.”
You hang up and immediately start throwing clothes and essentials into an overnight bag with a renewed sense of hope. Fernando always knows just what to do to make you feel better.
Two hours later, you’re being ushered into the backseat of a sleek black sedan by a courteous driver in a pressed suit. He takes your bag and stows it in the trunk before sliding behind the wheel.
“Miss Webber? I’ll be taking you to Mr. Alonso’s residence now.”
You nod, suddenly exhausted from all the crying. The driver seems to sense your melancholy because he doesn’t try to make small talk.
The English countryside whips by in a blur of green fields and quaint villages. Before you know it, the sedan is pulling up to an impressive brick estate surrounded by beautifully manicured gardens.
The driver lets you out and leads you up to the front door, which swings open before you can knock. Fernando stands there in a soft white sweater and dark-washed jeans, arms open wide.
“Pequeña!” His eyes crinkle at the corners as he pulls you into a fierce hug. “Welcome, welcome.”
You breathe in his comforting scent of sandalwood and citrus as he rubs soothing circles on your back. “I’m glad you came,” he murmurs.
He ushers you inside and you can’t help but gape at the tasteful, modern interior decor. It’s bright and airy, with huge windows offering views of the impeccable gardens beyond.
“This place is incredible, Nando,” you say, trailing behind him as he leads you through the spacious living room towards what appears to be the kitchen.
“You like?” He grins over his shoulder. “I had it remodeled not too long ago. Here, have a seat.” He pulls out a barstool at the huge kitchen island.
You take a seat, settling your elbows on the cool granite surface as Fernando busies himself at the stove. “So,” he says without turning around. “Tell me everything, from the beginning. Don’t leave out a single detalle.”
You sigh, resting your chin in your hands as Fernando starts pulling ingredients from the fridge. “Well, it started a few weeks ago. ..”
You recount all the little things that, in hindsight, were red flags: the constant emailing and texting, the unusually long nights “studying” at the library, the bizarre excuses. Fernando listens intently, occasionally tossing in a sympathetic “maldito idiota” or an indignant shake of his head.
Finally, you get to the part where you finally confronted your now ex about his shady behavior … only to have him confess that he’d been cheating on you for months with some underclassman sociology major.
By the time you’ve finished, your voice is thick from holding back a fresh wave of tears. Fernando sets down the knife he was using to chop vegetables and comes around the island to pull you into another hug.
“Oh, pequeña,” he murmurs into your hair. “Lo siento mucho. You didn’t deserve any of that, you hear me?”
You just nod, not trusting yourself to speak. Fernando rubs your back again before pulling away, hands on your shoulders so he can look you square in the eyes.
“Listen. That boy?” A feisty glint enters his warm hazel eyes. “He’s a fool, a complete and total imbecile for hurting someone as incredible as you. You’re so brave, so strong, so full of life ...” He tucks an errant strand of hair behind your ear. “And any man should consider himself the luckiest in the world to have you in his life, you understand?”
You manage a watery smile and nod again. Leave it to Fernando to know exactly what to say to begin mending your broken heart.
“Good.” He straightens up, clapping his hands together decisively. “Now dry those tears, pequeña. I’m making my famous seafood paella for dinner tonight and I’ll need my best assistant chef!”
You let out a surprised laugh, swiping at the dampness on your cheeks. “You know I’m a disaster in the kitchen.”
“Nonsense!” Fernando waves a dismissive hand as he returns to the cutting board. “Everyone can learn with a little guidance from Chef Nano, no?”
The next couple of hours pass in a blur of cheerful chopping, stirring, and laughing as Fernando walks you through the steps, nudging you gently whenever you veer off course. It’s impossible to stay weighed down by your sadness when he’s cracking jokes in that irreverent way of his and peppering you with silly kitchen nicknames.
By the time you’ve portioned out the fragrant saffron rice studded with shrimp, mussels, and clams into bowls, you’re doubled over in a fit of giggles from Fernando’s dramatic retelling of his past Formula 1 antics.
“... And then this crazy Australian madman comes barreling into the pit and just starts laying into me!” He throws his hands up, eyes dancing with mirth. “If Charlie hadn’t stepped in, I think your old man really might’ve killed me that day!”
You shake your head, still laughing as you take your first bite of the paella. It’s absolute perfection, the flavors melding together in an incredible symphony on your tongue. “My dad really went after you?”
“Oh yeah,” Fernando chuckles, digging into his own bowl. “We were like two crazed animals back then whenever we were on the track together. Couldn’t stand each other.”
There’s a lull as you both focus on eating for a few minutes. When you’re pleasantly full and satiated, you sit back with a contented sigh.
“Nando, that was hands down the best paella I’ve ever had.”
“You flatter me too much.” He waves a hand, but you can tell he’s pleased. “Just wait until tomorrow, when Chef Nano teaches you how to make the perfect tortilla Española, eh?”
The idea of getting to spend more time with Nando and being cooked for brings a genuine, untroubled smile to your face for the first time in days. This is just what you needed to start healing from your recent heartbreak.
***
As you help Fernando clear the dishes, a comfortable silence settles between you. He pours you both generous glasses of his favorite Spanish rioja and you retire to the plush living room sofas.
Fernando settles into the overstuffed armchair across from you, stretching out his lean legs as he takes a sip of wine. “So, pequeña ...” He fixes you with that warm, piercing gaze. “What is it you really want? In a man, I mean.”
You pause, considering his question as you swirl the ruby liquid in your glass. “I … I’m not sure I know anymore, to be honest. I thought I had it all figured out with ...” You trail off, unable to even say your ex’s name without a pang of hurt lancing through you.
Fernando reaches over to pat your knee comfortingly. “Hey, no more tears, okay? That pendejo is in the past. I’m asking what your ideal partner would be like going forward. What do you want, need, deserve from a man?”
You take a fortifying sip of the bold, peppery wine before responding. “I think … more than anything, I just want to feel cherished. Valued. Like I’m the most important person in his world.”
Fernando’s expression softens. “Oh, pequeña. You have such a big, beautiful heart. Of course that’s what you want — to be adored and treated like the incredible woman you are.”
You duck your head, warmth blooming in your cheeks at his praise. “I don’t know, Nando. Maybe I’m just being naive or asking for too much ...”
“Claro que no!” He leans forward, pinning you with an intense look. “You’re allowed to want those things, pequeña. You’re allowed to be selfish when it comes to your heart and what you need to be truly, deeply happy.”
His words resonate somewhere deep within you and you find yourself nodding slowly. “You’re right. I am allowed to want someone who makes me their whole world and never takes me for granted, aren’t I?”
“Exactamente.” Fernando reaches over to grasp your hands, his calloused fingers engulfing yours. “And let me tell you — any man who doesn’t give you that is un verdadero idiota. You deserve to be cherished, worshipped, put up on a pedestal every single day.”
His dark eyes burn with conviction, lips pressed into a serious line. You find yourself unable to look away, mesmerized by the sheer intensity of his words and manner.
“You deserve everything, pequeña,” he continues in a low, gravelly tone. “A man who makes you his whole priority, who loves you with every fiber of his being. Someone who will lay the world at your feet.”
Fernando reaches up to gently cup your cheek, his thumb stroking over the apple of your cheekbone reverently. The calloused pad of it sends a shiver racing down your spine.
“Someone who looks at you and can scarcely breathe for how lucky, how blessed they are to have you in their life ...”
His face is so close to yours now, his warm breath caressing your lips. You’re completely transfixed, body thrumming with barely restrained tension and … anticipation?
Fernando’s next words are barely more than a hoarse rumble. “I will cherish you, pequeña. Always. Allow me to show you how a real man adores the woman he loves.”
And then his mouth is on yours, hot and insistent and tasting of wine and desire. You gasp into the kiss, frozen for a split second before melting against him, kissing him back with equal fervor. Your hands slide up to tangle in the soft strands at the nape of his neck as he angles his head, deepening the heated exchange.
Fernando groans low in his throat, the vibrations shooting straight to your core. His large, nimble hands come up to frame your face, holding you in place as he takes his time thoroughly exploring your mouth, nibbling at your lips, stroking his talented tongue against yours in a way that has you whimpering into him.
He pulls away slightly and you chase his lips with a soft keen of protest. Fernando chuckles darkly, nosing along your jaw.
“Patience, pequeña,” he rumbles against the sensitive skin just below your ear. “As sweet as that gorgeous mouth is, there are so many other parts of you I’ve been longing to taste ...”
A full-body shudder wracks you at his words, at the sheer need and promise lacing his tone. Part of you is stunned by how quickly the atmosphere between you has shifted, how easily you fell into his passionate embrace.
But a much larger part — the part that has admired and idolized this man since you were knee-high — is utterly intoxicated. Delirious with the knowledge that the love you’ve secretly harbored for Fernando for years is, impossibly, reciprocated.
His mouth is trailing hot, openmouthed kisses along the column of your throat and you tilt your head back with a wanton moan, reveling in the rasp of his day-old stubble against your sensitized skin.
“N-Nando ...” You try to put a protesting note in your voice, but it comes out a pleading whine instead. “Are you sure about this? I’m … I’m just a kid to you.”
He rears back to pin you with a look so full of naked want it makes you squirm. “You stopped being a kid a long time ago, pequeña,” he growls. “I’ve been watching you grow into this gorgeous, fiery woman and it’s taken everything in me not to take you into my arms like this until now.”
His hands roam down to palm your waist, fingers flexing possessively against the dip of your sides. You’re breathless, dizzy, wondering if you’ve stumbled into some incredible, wildly realistic dream.
Because surely this — with your longtime crush, the older man you’ve harbored forbidden fantasies about pulling you flush against his strong frame and lavishing kisses up the side of your neck — cannot be real. Can it?
“It’s real, pequeña. So, so real,” Fernando croons, as if reading your mind. He frames your face again, searing you with another passionate kiss that steals your breath and chases away any remaining doubts. “Feel how real it is,” he murmurs, guiding your hands down to the firm evidence of his arousal straining against the soft denim.
You whimper into his mouth, tentatively palming the thick bulge. Fernando hisses in a sharp breath through his teeth and breaks the kiss to press his forehead to yours. His eyes are tightly shut, long lashes fanning across sunkissed skin.
“F-fuck, pequeña,” he chokes out in a ragged voice. “Been dreaming of those little hands on me for years.”
Something inside you shifts at his confession, like a dam of long repressed want and need cracking open. You suddenly feel bolder, empowered by the effect you’re having on this man — this god among men who you’ve put on a pedestal for so long.
Maintaining heated eye contact, you slowly drag your hand up the length of his erection in one firm stroke that has Fernando’s hips jerking up as he curses vehemently in Spanish.
“Like this?” You rasp, a blatant challenge in your tone as you repeat the motion.
Fernando’s eyes flash hungrily and then he’s surging forward again, capturing your lips in another punishing kiss that leaves you lightheaded and alight with lust.
“Just like that, mi amor,” he growls when he releases your mouth with a final nip at your lower lip. “Now it’s my turn to cherish you ...”
With that, he loops an arm behind your knees and rises in one smooth, powerful motion, hoisting you up into a secure bridal carry. You yelp in surprise, hands flying up to cling to his broad shoulders.
“Nando! What are you, mmph-”
Your protest is cut off by his mouth slanting over yours in another heated kiss. Fernando maneuvers you easily as he starts carrying you towards the staircase, hiking your dainty linen dress up around your thighs.
“I’m making good on my promise, pequeña,” he murmurs hotly against your swollen lips. “Bedroom. Now. Going to lay you out and cherish every sweet inch of that gorgeous body, just like you deserve.”
Unbidden, a soft whine slips from your throat at his heated words. You tighten your grip on his shoulders, fingers digging into the firm muscle there as a fresh wave of arousal floods through you, hot and insistent.
Fernando chuckles darkly, adjusting his grip on you as he starts up the stairs. “That’s it, let me hear how much you want this too.”
You open your mouth to respond but only a needy whine escapes as Fernando hitches you higher in his arms, the movement causing delicious friction against your core.
“I want, ngh-” Your words dissolve into another needy noise as Fernando nips at the juncture of your neck and shoulder in reprimand.
“Use your words, pequeña,” he rumbles against your tingling skin. “Tell me what you want.”
You don’t have a chance to reply before he’s kicking open a door and striding into what must be the bedroom, depositing you gently onto the plush center of an enormous bed. Fernando looms over you, chest heaving as he rakes his heated gaze over your prone form in a way that makes you shudder.
“Nando, I … I want you,” you finally manage, fighting past your shyness to meet his burning stare. “Want you to cherish me, cherish every part of me, like you promised.”
Fernando’s eyes darken further at your words and he slowly, purposefully begins lifting his sweater, never looking away from you.
“Good girl,” he praises in that deep, gruff tone that has your thighs pressing together instinctively. “That’s exactly what I’m going to do.”
He shrugs off the soft knit, revealing a toned, hair-dusted chest and abdominal muscles carved from years of intense athletic training. You can’t help but drink in the display of his powerful body as he reaches for the buckle of his belt.
Fernando doesn’t miss your frank appraisal, a cocky smirk tugging at his full lips. “Like what you see, pequeña?”
You bite your lip and give a small, shameless nod. His grin widens and with a few deft flicks of his wrist, Fernando’s belt is undone and sliding free of its loops. You watch, rapt, as he hooks his thumbs into the waistband of his jeans and boxer briefs in one smooth motion.
“Then no more teasing,” he promises in a low, heated rasp. “Tonight you’ll have as much of me as you can handle.”
With that, Fernando pushes his trousers and underwear down over his hips in one go, springing free in all his thick, flushed glory. Your eyes widen and you suck in a sharp breath at the sheer size of him, mouth going dry with naked want.
Fernando steps forward until he’s standing at the edge of the mattress, gloriously nude and incredibly aroused. He crouches down, bringing himself eye-level with your flushed face as he reaches out to gently take your hands in his calloused grip.
“Are you sure, pequeña?” He searches your gaze intently. “Because once I claim you, mark you as mine in every way … there’s no going back. I won’t ever let you go.”
His raw confession hangs in the heated air between you. You meet Fernando’s fiery gaze without faltering, threading your fingers through his in silent acceptance. His eyes blaze and then he’s surging up over you, capturing your mouth in another searing, all-consuming kiss as he slowly, reverently hikes your dress up and divests you of your last remaining garments.
You wind your arms around his thick neck, holding him close as Fernando settles between your splayed thighs with a low, guttural groan. He rears back just enough to pin you with another scorching look, stealing your breath.
“You’re mine now, pequeña,” he vows roughly, guiding his thick length to your slick entrance. “And I’m going to spend all night cherishing this sweet body, just like you deserve ...”
Fernando braces himself above you with one powerful forearm, using his free hand to grip your thigh and hitch your leg higher around his lean hips. You keen softly as the new angle allows him to sink even deeper, filling you up so deliciously.
He drops his forehead to yours, dark eyes locked on your parted lips as he starts rocking into you with slow, measured strokes. Each deliberate grind of his pelvis against yours has you whimpering, nails raking down the flexing planes of his back.
“That’s it, pequeña,” Fernando croons, punctuating his words with a sharp roll of his hips that has you crying out. “Let me hear how good I’m making you feel.”
You try to muffle your sounds against his broad shoulder, but Fernando isn’t having it. He slides the hand not braced on the mattress up to cup the back of your neck, tilting your head so your mouths are a hairsbreadth apart.
“No, no … I want to hear every gorgeous, needy little noise,” he rumbles, lips brushing yours with each scorching word. “Want to hear you begging for more of my cock, stretching you so perfectly ...”
A desperate whine slips free at his filthy words, your walls fluttering around his rigid length in defiant response. Fernando rewards you by capturing your lips in a searing kiss, his talented tongue teasing against yours as he picks up the pace of his thrusts.
You moan brokenly into his mouth, legs locking around his narrow waist as Fernando sets a rhythm of steady, pounding strokes. Each slick glide has you building higher and higher, pleasure bordering on overwhelming. It’s so much after so much time without, yet somehow not enough.
You tear your lips from his with a ragged gasp, throwing your head back against the pillows. “M-More, Nando! Please … ah!”
Fernando grunts in approval at your needy plea, hips snapping forward to bury himself deeper. “As you wish, pequeña ...”
He sits up further on his knees, using the new leverage to drive into you with increased force and intensity. The lewd noises of your joining fill the air — skin slapping against skin, your cries of pleasure mingling with Fernando’s low groans of exertion.
Part of you feels like you should be embarrassed by the wanton sounds spilling from your lips. But a much bigger part is just reveling in the indescribable feeling of being taken apart so thoroughly by this incredible man’s skilled body.
Fernando hooks an arm under one of your knees, nearly bending you in half as he leans down to mouth hot, openmouthed kisses from your collarbone up the slender column of your throat. You keen wildly, fingers spasming against the rippling muscles of his back.
“Do you want it harder, pequeña?” He growls the filthy words against the racing pulse point under your jaw. “Want Papi to fuck you just like the needy little girl you are?”
A choked whimper is all you can manage in response, rendered incoherent by his merciless onslaught against that sensitive cluster of nerves deep inside you.
Fernando’s lips curl into a satisfied smirk against the side of your neck and then he’s driving into you with renewed vigor, hips pistoning in short, brutally powerful snaps that quickly have you keening. Your nails leave stinging welts in their wake as they drag down Fernando’s glistening shoulders and back, but he doesn’t seem to mind in the slightest.
“That’s it, taking me so well,” he grits out through clenched teeth, each word punctuated by a nasty grind of his hips that has you crying out. “Such a good girl for Papi, con esas caderas tan estrechas ...”
His dirty Spanish murmurs nearly do you in, shooting white-hot sparks of pleasure-pain arcing across your nerve endings. You swear your vision nearly whites out entirely when his calloused fingers find your swollen bud, stroking firmly in tight, rapid circles that have you keening.
That familiar, coiling tension is rapidly becoming too much to bear. You can feel your orgasm fast approaching, building and building with each punishing thrust into your greedy little hole and stroke against that hypersensitive bundle of nerves.
“Nando, Nando,” you pant, clutching desperately at his flexing biceps as your thighs begin to tremble uncontrollably. “I’m gonna, ah, fuck, I can’t-”
Fernando’s response is a series of harsh Spanish curses that would make a sailor blush. His mouth crashes against yours in a searing, messy kiss, swallowing your cries as he fucks you right through your release.
Wave after relentless wave of excruciating ecstasy crashes over you. You tremble and wail into Fernando’s mouth, pulled taut as a bowstring as he milks every last exquisite pulse from you with those sharp, unforgiving snaps of his hips.
Just when you think the pleasure searing along every nerve ending will break you into pieces, Fernando’s rhythm falters. He rears back, baring his teeth in a feral snarl that sends a fresh shock of desire arrowing straight to your core.
“Going to fill you up now, pequeña,” he grits out in a gravelly tone laced with strain. “Make you nice and, ah mierda, messy with Papi’s cum ...”
The sheer filth of his words, combined with his furious tempo draws animalistic whimpers from deep in your chest. You lock your ankles at the small of his back, taking him deeper as he starts to lose control.
“Please, Nando!” You beg shamelessly, reaching up to dig your fingers into the straining chords of muscle in his back and shoulders. “Please cum inside me, wanna be yours, wanna-”
Fernando cuts off your fervent cries with a harsh growl and then he’s slamming home one final time, burying himself to the hilt as he spills molten heat deep in your convulsing channel with a stream of strained Spanish curses.
You shudder and cry out at the incredible sensation of being filled so completely, holding him flush to you while he pulses and throbs. Fernando captures your lips in another searing kiss, fucking his tongue into your mouth in time with the shallow rolls of his hips as he spends himself.
Just when you think the incredible intensity of his release will never end, the shrill trill of a ringtone shatters the sweaty, panting silence of the bedroom.
Fernando goes rigid above you, finally breaking the fevered kiss with a curse that shoots straight to your over-sensitized core.
“Fucking hell, now?”
His tone is one of pure annoyance as his darkly tousled head whips towards the nightstand where his mobile is ringing incessantly. One large hand flexes against the sheets beside your head, ready to simply ignore the call.
Until, that is, he sees the caller ID and his entire demeanor shifts from one of irritation to something more sheepish. He immediately sits up on his haunches, the movement tugging at your overstuffed, abused entrance in the most delicious way and drawing a helpless whimper from you.
Fernando fixes you with a heated look, plush lower lip caught between his teeth as he drinks in your disheveled, satisfied state sprawled wantonly across his rumpled sheets. Only then does he make a sudden, aborted movement to grab the still-ringing phone, gaze flickering down to where you’re obscenely joined.
“Don’t you dare pull out,” you pant in warning, clenching down hard around him as he shifts to reach for the mobile. Fernando groans explosively at the vice-like grip, arm falling back to brace himself against the mattress.
“Insatiable,” he accuses with a dark chuckle. He somehow manages to snag the still-trilling phone without dislodging himself and you shamelessly squeeze down even tighter in petty retaliation. Fernando tosses you a smoldering glare that makes heat lick along your nerve endings before he finally answers.
“Hola?” His deep voice is rougher than usual, gravelly from the thoroughly ravished state you’ve put him in.
“Fernando! Mate, it’s me.” Your father’s crisp Aussie tone immediately filters through the speaker and you inadvertently clench down again in panic.
Fernando’s lips peel back in a mild wince before smoothing back into that trademark smug grin of his. He drops his free hand to splay possessively over your lower abdomen, thumb rubbing idle circles into the soft, oversensitized skin there as he regards you with dark, hooded eyes.
“Mark!” He greets your father with forced nonchalance, even as the pads of his calloused fingers dip dangerously close to where you’re still intimately joined. “What can I do for you?”
There’s a pregnant pause during which you can practically picture the slight frown creasing your dad’s brow at Fernando’s strange tone. “Er, sorry to bother you, Nando. I was just ringing to see if my daughter made it to you alright?”
You suck in a sharp breath, eyes going wide as Fernando’s lips quirk up in a devilish smirk. Instead of answering right away, he drags the tip of one finger agonizingly slowly through your damp curls in a wordless warning.
Biting your lip to stifle a moan, you obediently stop clenching your internal muscles, allowing Fernando to sink that few extra incredible inches back inside you with a roll of his hips. His eyes burn with smug satisfaction when you keen softly at the feeling of being so deliciously full.
“She arrived safe and sound,” Fernando finally replies, voice gone low and rough in a way that has your thighs trying to clench instinctively. He holds you open by digging the heel of his palm against your mound, lips twitching when you whimper. “I’m taking very … very good care of her. You don’t need to worry.”
Another pause from your father’s end, this one even longer. You can picture the perplexed furrow in his brow deepening as he tries to figure out the strange undercurrent in Fernando’s tone.
“Right … well, good then. I just wanted to check in and make sure she got there okay after that whole mess with her asshole of an ex.”
You shudder at the memory, hips shifting restlessly against Fernando’s calloused palm in a plea for friction, pressure, anything. He simply watches you squirm with darkly glittering eyes, lazily rubbing his thumb in soothing little circles just below your navel.
“Trust me,” Fernando finally rumbles, voice gone low and graveled in a way that sends a shiver of desire arcing down your spine. “Your little girl is being very well looked after, in every way.”
Your cheeks burn hot at the blatant innuendo lacing his words. Fernando’s smirk widens, like he enjoys seeing you so flustered, before he continues in a tone of exaggerated innocence. “She’s been … quite the handful, really, but I don’t mind.”
Your breath hitches in your throat and you shoot him a betrayed look, clenching reflexively around the thick length still sheathed snugly inside you. Fernando arches one artfully sculpted brow as if in challenge, using his free hand to firmly grip one of your thighs and wrench your legs obscenely further apart in clear retaliation.
You muffle a whimper into the sheets as the new position allows him to grind deeper, that delicious friction quickly unraveling your will to stay quiet. You can already feel the coil of need building rapidly once more with each shallow roll of Fernando’s hips.
“What was that?” Your dad’s mildly bewildered voice suddenly crackles over the line, jarring you back to the reality of the situation.
Cheeks burning with a mixture of arousal and mortification, you blindly grasp for one of the pillows to muffle the series of pitiful noises now spilling past your lips as Fernando ups the intensity of his thrusts.
He leans in closer until the two of you are practically nose-to-nose, teeth sinking into that plush lower lip when you instinctively tighten around him like a velvet vise. Fernando’s eyes roll back briefly before fixing back on you, dark and fathomless as the depths of the Mediterranean.
“Nothing to worry about over here,” he pants through gritted teeth, one hand leaving its bruising grip on your thigh to curl around the back of your neck and pull you into a searing, filthy kiss designed to swallow any incriminating sounds. “Like I said. Just … taking very good care of your little girl.”
There’s one final confused little hum from your father before the line clicks off with a hollow beep. Fernando instantly drops the phone and slants his mouth hungrily over yours once more, all thoughts of the call instantly forgotten as he resumes fucking up into you with renewed vigor.
“My little girl, aren’t you pequeña?” He grates against your lips, punctuating each word with a scorching grind of his hips that has sparks bursting behind your eyelids. “Going to be a good girl and cum all over Papi’s cock again, sí?”
You can only nod wildly in agreement, nails raking down his broad back as that incredible tension inside you winds tighter and tighter. Fernando swallows your cries with his wicked, talented mouth, until finally you go rigid in his arms, back arched as your release rockets through you like a shockwave.
This time Fernando doesn’t even attempt to stifle your hoarse, animalistic keening, merely rearing back to watch in fascination as your complexion colors and your eyes roll back. He growls your name like a prayer, hips snapping erratically as he uses your convulsive flutters to chase his own high. Fernando’s chiseled features contort in pleasure, teeth sinking into his own lip hard enough to draw blood when you bear down with the vise-like strength of your release.
“F-Fuck … gonna … gonna fill you up again,” he grits out, thick cock jerking deep inside your molten depths. “Make you … gonna ah … make you mine forever this time, pequeña ...”
The gravelly promise in his tone somehow penetrates the sweaty, lust-hazed cocoon surrounding you. Your eyes fly open just in time to witness Fernando’s own clenched shut, jaw dropped in a growl as he buries himself to the hilt with one final, bruising grind of his pelvis.
You cry out at the incredible sensation of his release flooding your already stuffed channel with scorching ropes of thick seed. Fernando lets out a shuddering moan of pure gratification, hips working in short, shallow thrusts to pump every last pulse of his sticky essence into your greedy little womb.
When the last tremor of his climax has wrung through him, he drops bonelessly on top of you in a sweaty, panting tangle of sated limbs. You whimper quietly at the delicious feeling of his weight pinning you to the mattress, his softening length still lodged snugly inside as the two of you bask in the afterglow.
Fernando nuzzles into the juncture of your neck and shoulder, pressing lazy, opened-mouthed kisses to your slick, overheated skin. His talented fingers trace abstract patterns up and down your sides, touch reverent as his gravelly voice rumbles against you.
“Going to get you nice and full, pequeña. Fill you up again and again until my baby takes ...”
A violent shudder wracks through you at the filthy promise in his words. Fernando chuckles darkly, gathering you closer against his sweat-slicked chest as his hand drifts down to cup your lower abdomen with tender possessiveness.
“That’s it, let it sink in,” he croons, fingertips rubbing in gentle circles. “My seed taking root deep inside this sweet little womb, putting a baby in your belly ...”
He punctuates the words with a firm press of his palm that has you gasping, walls fluttering greedily around the thick shaft still impaling you. Fernando makes a noise of deep approval low in his throat.
“Going to keep you just like this,” he vows in a tone that brooks no argument, hot and heavy against the sensitive shell of your ear. “Barefoot and pregnant in my bed, that gorgeous body swollen and glowing with my hijo ...”
You whimper at the image his words conjure up — your belly rounded and stretched taut with Fernando’s child, heavy breasts leaking as you cradle his son or daughter. Fernando husks out a laugh at your reaction, nosing along the line of your jaw until you meet his heated gaze.
“You like that idea, don’t you pequeña?” His eyes glitter with a mixture of desire and predatory satisfaction. “Being tied to me forever, in the most permanent way possible?”
You can only nod dumbly, suddenly rendered mute by the depths of your own yearning. Of course you want that — to carry this incredible man’s legacy inside you for all the world to see. To belong to him, completely.
Fernando rumbles his approval against your swollen lips, cupping the back of your head to angle your mouth for a tender, lingering kiss. When he finally breaks away, you try to chase his mouth with a breathless whimper of protest.
“Shh, patience, pequeña,” he murmurs indulgently, thumb stroking over your slick lower lip. His eyes are dancing with dark promise. “You’ll have plenty of time to take your fill of me in the coming months while I breed you over ...”
He kisses the words into the hollow of your throat, teeth grazing the rapid flutter of your pulse point.
“... and over ...” Fernando rolls you onto your back in one smoothly powerful motion, settling his weight over you as he lips trail a blazing path down your abdomen.
“... and over again.” His tongue dips briefly into your navel before he nuzzles lower, nose nudging through your damp curls until his warm breath ghosts over your overstimulated sex. You suck in a ragged gasp, thighs trembling with anticipation as Fernando glances up at you from under those ridiculously long lashes.
“Until it finally takes,” he finishes with a wicked grin before ducking down to swipe one firm lick through your folds. You nearly black out from the electric shock of pleasure-pain, broken cries echoing through the bedroom as Fernando sets to work thoroughly mapping every intimate inch of you with that devilishly skilled mouth and tongue.
True to his filthy promise, Fernando keeps you until the first rosy hints of dawn are just beginning to lighten the horizon outside, thoroughly ravishing your helpless body over and over again until you’re boneless and incoherent with satiation.
It’s only when the first few birds have begun to chirp their morning songs that he finally relents, blanketing you with his solid weight one last time. Fernando’s lips are kiss-swollen as they trail up the line of your throat to find yours in one more long, thorough kiss that leaves you totally plundered.
“Sleep now, pequeña,” he rumbles against your parted mouth, gathering you close as his hand drifts down to splay possessively over the slight tautness of your lower abdomen. “Let my release take nice and deep inside you ...”
You slip into unconsciousness to the sensation of Fernando’s calloused fingertips rubbing soothing circles over your skin and the imprinted promise of his low, sleep-roughened vows.
“I’m going to put a baby in you, pequeña. Going to breed you so full of my children until you’re round and glowing with them … that’s a promise.”
***
Six Months Later
Fernando can’t keep the swell of pride and possessiveness from blooming in his chest as he guides you through the paddock with a supportive hand on the small of your back. His dark gaze keeps flickering down to admire the swell of your belly peeking out beneath the flowing summer dress you’ve chosen for today.
He feels like a conquering king surveying his latest prize as you waddle adorably at his side, the golden sunlight caressing your features and lending a rosy flush to your glowing complexion. Fernando has never seen a more beautiful, ethereal sight than you in this moment — rounded with his child, your body transformed by the life blossoming within.
His hand subconsciously moves to cup the subtle curve of your belly as you pause to allow a team member to pass. Fernando feels a fresh surge of scorching desire and smug satisfaction race through his veins when you instinctively cover his hand with yours, cradling his palm against the taut swell.
“Easy there, pequeña,” he rumbles with a wolfish grin, leaning in until his lips brush the delicate shell of your ear. “We’re in public, remember? Wouldn’t want to give these pendejos an eyeful of how insaciable my little girl has become since getting knocked up ...”
A delightful shiver visibly ripples through you at his words, those gorgeous eyes fluttering shut for the briefest of moments before fixed back on him blown wide and dark with rekindled want. Fernando lets out a low chuckle of approval, arm winding around your waist to pull you flush against his side.
Just then, a familiar figure comes striding around the corner, brows low and thunderous as they zero in on the embrace Fernando has you locked in. Mark Webber falters mid-step as he takes in the rather obvious changes to your body, chin dropping in a comical picture of dumbstruck shock.
Fernando can’t resist angling the two of you forward just enough to emphasize the prominent curve of your belly straining against the flowy fabric of your summer dress. He watches your father’s expression morph from surprise, to confusion, then slowly … realization as the pieces begin to click into place.
Within seconds, Mark’s eyes have narrowed to slits of rage, mouth curling back in a snarl of anger as he picks up his pace and stalks towards the pair of you. Fernando’s own smug expression slips, features settling into a hard mask as he angles his body slightly in front of yours on instinct.
“You motherfucking piece of shit-” Your father snarls, face taking on an alarming reddish hue as he rears back and swings at Fernando.
Fernando manages to sidestep the worst of the blow at the last second, feeling only a glancing impact against his left cheekbone before Mark closes in again with balled fists raised. Behind him, you let out a strangled cry of dismay, reaching out helplessly to grasp at the back of his shirt.
“Dad, no! Fernando, please-”
But Fernando is already sinking into a fighting stance, knees slightly bent and weight evenly distributed. He blocks another wild swing from Mark with ease, allowing the Australian’s momentum to carry him past so Fernando can land a swift, open-handed punch against the side of his head.
The sharp retaliatory crack has Mark stumbling sideways, snarling like an enraged animal. For one brief, wildly intense moment, the two former rivals simply square off — sizing one another up like they’ve done a hundred times before on various circuits when they were both still competing.
From anyone else, Fernando might have been able to laugh off this overreaction, shrug it aside as the misguided anger of a hotblooded father learning his young daughter is now expecting. But this is Mark Webber — a man who has proven himself as fiery and formidable an opponent as they come.
Fernando won’t admit it aloud, but a tiny thrill of excitement races through him at the prospect of a proper throwdown with his old nemesis turned friend. He throws you a quick glance over his shoulder, assessing if he needs to move you further away before the situation escalates.
You surprise him by shaking your head adamantly, those beautiful eyes blazing with protective fury of your own as you plant yourself squarely in between the two men.
“Fernando, don’t hurt him,” you plead, gaze flickering between him and the bristling Aussie now clambering back to his feet. “He’s just-”
“Being a bloody psychopathic bastard,” Mark spits, wiping a hand across his rapidly swelling lip. His hateful glare lands accusingly on the prominent swell of your middle. “Fucking hell , Nando. She’s just a kid-”
Fernando feels his own temper ratcheting up several notches at the venom and dismissal lacing the other man’s tone. He takes an aggressive step forward, forcing you back behind the shield of his powerful frame.
“Don’t talk about her like she isn’t here to defend herself,” Fernando growls, unconcerned that they’re rapidly drawing an audience from the swarm of crew personnel surrounding them.
He arches a challenging brow at your father’s scathing glower. “What’s wrong? Upset that while you were off galivanting around the globe, I was putting a baby in your daughter’s belly?”
Mark lets out an outraged roar, lurching forward to throw another wild haymaker that Fernando easily ducks under. You cry out in distress, hands coming up to grip at Fernando’s biceps from behind as you try to bodily pull him away from the furious Australian’s reach.
“Both of you, stop!” Your shrill voice cuts through the tense alleyway, causing both men to pause for a split-second and glance towards you. “Nando, don’t provoke him! And you-” You aim an accusatory finger at your seething father. “Lay one more hand on Fernando and I swear to god-”
Whatever heated threat you were preparing goes unvoiced as a sudden aura of pain visibly ripples across your features, brow furrowing and lips parting on a pained gasp. Your hands instinctively fly down to cradle your belly, entire body locking up with tension.
Fernando’s heart leaps into his throat as he recognizes the clear signs of distress from months spent doting upon your every subtle twinge and discomfort. Immediately, his previous temper fades into a dull, distant roar easily overshadowed by the all-consuming need to ensure your well-being.
“Pequeña?” He’s at your side in an instant, gripping your upper arms to steady you as a light sheen of perspiration blooms on your brow. “Breathe through it, mi amor … just breathe, okay?”
“I-I’m fine,” you manage in a tight voice. “Just a twinge. The excitement is probably too mu-ahh!”
You gasp again, nails digging punishingly into Fernando’s forearms as your knees threaten to buckle. All hints of masculine posturing flee his mind as Fernando smoothly sweeps you up into a secure bridal carry, heedless of the soft whimpers of discomfort now trickling past your parted lips.
He locks eyes with a stunned Mark over your bent crown, gaze impassive and steady. “You heard her. The excitement is too much. We’re leaving.”
Without waiting for a response, Fernando swivels on his heel and marches back the way you’d originally come with you cradled protectively against his chest. He keeps his strides measured and unhurried, but still manages to put a fair amount of distance between the pair of you and your father’s petulant anger in a matter of moments.
Once you’ve rounded a quiet corner alcove, Fernando gently lowers you to a relatively secluded stack of equipment crates, bracing your lower back and guiding you into a seated position.
“Wait here,” he murmurs against your hairline, dropping a fleeting kiss to the rapidly dampening strands stuck to your brow. Fernando’s fingers ghost down to cradle your belly once more, silently assessing for any areas of increased tension. “I’ll be back in just a moment with some water and a physio, alright?”
You nod weakly, squirming to rest back against the cool metal behind you as another pained grimace flits across your features. Fernando feels his heart clench at the wretched, lost expression clouding your eyes.
Cupping your cheek, he tilts your chin up until you meet his heated gaze. “Don’t look so afraid, pequeña. Everything will be fine, you’ll see.”
Fernando leans in until his nose brushes against yours, allowing the familiar closeness and the scent of his cedar and bergamot cologne to soothe you. “Our little one is just reminding us who’s boss, that’s all. But Papi’s here … I’ll take care of both of you, sí?”
You manage a weak smile at that, some of the tension bleeding from your delicate features as you nod against his palm. Fernando presses one more lingering kiss to your brow before reluctantly pulling away.
“I’ll be right back, mi vida. Just breathe deeply for me in the meantime.”
With one final reassuring caress to your belly, Fernando turns on his heel and strides back out into the bustling paddock area. His jaw is set in a tense line, fists clenching and unclenching at his sides as he mentally catalogs which team staff he needs to track down.
Rounding a corner, Fernando very nearly barrels straight into the rigid form of your father standing there with arms crossed, clearly waiting to waylay him. The Aussie’s expression is thunderous, eyes blazing with hurt and undisguised fury.
“So that’s it then?” Mark bites out in a tone of barely restrained aggression. “You’ve gone and knocked up my little girl. My own daughter, Nando ...”
Fernando holds up a dismissive hand, in no mood to allow your father’s misplaced anger to provoke another confrontation — not when you’re so clearly in distress. “Don’t start with me again.” His tone is low, brooking no argument. “Your daughter is safe and being well looked after, that’s all that matters right now.”
With that, he moves to sidestep around Mark, only to find his path blocked by the other man’s broad chest as he steps directly into Fernando’s space. The former World Champion narrows his eyes warningly, feeling his temper ratcheting back up in the face of such insolence.
“Look, you arrogant Spanish prick,” Mark growls, lips peeling back in a menacing sneer. “I don’t know what kind of game you’re playing here, but-”
Fernando abruptly cuts him off with a harsh bark of humorless laughter, dark eyes glittering dangerously. “A game?” He shakes his head slowly, expression one of vaguely disbelieving contempt. “You really think that’s all this is to me? Getting one up on you by deflowering your little girl and leaving her pregnant, alone, and disgraced?”
The other man flinches almost imperceptibly at the crass words, clearly thrown by Fernando’s frank disdain. The Spaniard presses on relentlessly. “Any man who would treat a situation like this so flippantly doesn’t deserve to consider themselves a real man at all — let alone a father.”
Mark’s face has turned an alarming shade of puce, whether from shame or sheer unchecked rage Fernando neither knows nor cares. He simply crowds further into the Australian’s space, heedless of how their chests nearly brush with each harsh exhalation.
“Make no mistake, I love that woman and the child she carries more than life itself,” Fernando states with conviction, cadence low and gravelly. “If you’re asking whether I intend to be there for them both as a partner, as a father … my answer is simple.”
He pauses just long enough to allow the weight of his next words to truly sink in.
“For as long as your daughter and my children will have me, you couldn’t pry me away from their sides with a fucking crowbar.”
Fernando holds your father’s seething gaze for one final beat, satisfaction lancing through him at seeing the other man seemingly robbed of his righteous anger. With a curt nod, he finally moves to brush past the speechless Australian without another word —intent on fetching the physio like he had originally set out to do.
Because in the end, Mark Webber’s approval means less than nothing to Fernando. All that matters is rushing back to your side and ensuring your safety and comfort. You and the new life blossoming within you are his entire world now.
As if to reaffirm the point, you suddenly appear around the corner, one hand braced protectively under the swell of your abdomen.
“Nando,” you breathe in a tremulous voice, blindly reaching for him. “The little one misses you ...”
Fernando instantly abandons all thoughts of confronting Mark, or retrieving a physio, or anything else as he rushes to gather you up in his arms once more. He cradles you tenderly to his chest as your fingers twist almost convulsively in the fabric of his Hugo Boss shirt, dark eyes wide and pleading.
Fernando glances down at you cradled protectively in his arms, heart clenching at the distressed furrow of your brow and shallow, panting breaths.
Readjusting his grip, he dips his head to murmur a string of soothing Spanish endearments against your sweat-dampened hairline as he carries you through the winding labyrinth of the paddock. His strides are measured but purposeful, not rushing — he needs to get you somewhere quiet and comfortable to recover from the ordeal.
Finally, Fernando spots a secluded alcove tucked away behind a cluster of tires. He quickly guides you over and gently lowers you onto an emptied workbench, cocooning you against his broad chest.
“There, there, pequeña,” he croons, lips brushing your brow. “Just breathe nice and deep for Papi, just like we practiced ...”
You nod weakly, fingers reflexively flexing against the solid planes of Fernando’s abdomen as you struggle to pull in deep gulps of air. He deftly tugs the neckline of your summer dress aside to expose more of your flushed skin, using the hem to dab away the perspiration beading on your chest and throat.
“That’s it, mi vida,” he praises in that dark, soothing timbre. “Just like that, easy does it ...”
Slowly, the tension bleeds from your features as the worst of the discomfort subsides. Fernando doesn’t dare loosen his supportive embrace, nor does he tear his increasingly heated gaze away from your parted lips as each measured exhale puffs across his skin.
“Better now?” He murmurs, thumb tracing the delicate arch of your cheekbone reverently. A rosy blush stains your complexion when you nod meekly, lashes fanning across those glorious cheekbones.
“Good girl,” Fernando rumbles, helpless not to drink in the gorgeous picture you make — cheeks flushed, lips swollen, eyes glazed with lingering stardust. He grips your jaw in a firm caress, tilting your chin up until your gazes lock.
“Because I must admit,” he husks softly, gaze darkening to molten whiskey. “Seeing you like this, with my child safe inside you … has me feeling quite possessive, pequeña.”
You shudder visibly at his words, tongue darting out to wet those plump lips in a blatant show of want. Fernando doesn’t miss the subtle gesture, allowing his gaze to dip briefly to track the slick path your tongue carves before fixing back on your rapidly dilating pupils.
“Would you like that, hmm?” He lowers his voice to a sensual rumble, skimming his thumb across your lower lip in a wordless command for access. “Having Papi show you just how adored, how cherished you and our little one inside you truly are?”
A whimper catches in the back of your throat as you readily accept the gentle press of Fernando’s calloused digit between your parted lips. Your eyes flutter shut on a trembling exhale as he slowly begins to glide the thick pad of his thumb across that heavenly softness, careful not to scrape the sensitive skin with his nail.
“That’s it, pequeña,” he growls, a tad hoarse as desire visibly burns behind those long lashes. “Suckle for me, let me take care of you both nice and proper ...”
Fernando rocks forward ever so slightly, allowing the swollen curve of your belly to brush against his solid abs with each tiny shuddering breath you drag in through your nose. He keeps up the lazy, hypnotic strokes of his thumb until you’re completely transfixed — hips shifting restlessly against his thighs and soft, muffled mewls escaping past the seal of your swollen lips.
“Such a good girl,” he murmurs, voice pitched low enough to rasp straight through you and ignite every raw nerve ending. “So sweet and responsive for Papi … going to reward that gorgeous little mouth in just a moment, I promise.”
You whine wantonly around his thumb in response, eyes fluttering back open to reveal pupils blown wide with naked yearning. Fernando chuckles indulgently, thumb tracing the delicate bow of your lower lip one final time before retreating fully.
“So eager,” he tuts without any real admonishment. Leaning in close, he angles his head to brush kiss-swollen lips against the outer shell of your ear. “Don’t fret, pequeña. I’ll take such good care of both of you right here, right now ...”
Fernando drops a lingering series of kisses along the line of your jaw, letting his lush mouth trail lower and lower with each heated murmur.
“Will remind you exactly who you belong to … who made you … who put this child in your belly ...”
His final words are an exhale ghosting out across your thundering pulse. Fernando immediately latches on with his teeth, nipping and sucking a series of stinging, possessive marks into your sensitized flesh that has you arching against him with a strangled cry of pure bliss.
Out here, cloaked in the shadow of the paddock where anyone could stumble across the two of you — your father included — and discover just how thoroughly Fernando has claimed you. The taboo thrill of it all is utterly intoxicating.
As your trembling fingers find purchase in his clothes, dragging him nearer with insistence, Fernando feels that familiar molten lick of possessive pride unfurl deep in his core. You are his now, fully and completely — mind, body, and soon … family.
Just the way it was always meant to be.
#f1 imagine#f1#f1 fic#f1 fanfic#f1 fanfiction#f1 x reader#f1 x you#fernando alonso#fa14#fernando alonso imagine#fernando alonso x reader#fernando alonso x you#fernando alonso fic#fernando alonso fluff#fernando alonso fanfic#fernando alonso blurb#f1 fluff#f1 blurb#f1 one shot#f1 x y/n#f1 drabble#f1 fandom#f1blr#f1 x female reader#fernando alonso x y/n#aston martin#formula 1
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Raining Flowers
The Clones all deserve flowers! Or maybe they think you deserve flowers 😉 Either way, love is in bloom this week for the Clone Flowers Fic Event!
Throughout this week, May 20th-25th, certain participants will be posting their own fics of Clones and different flower themes that were selected! The participants as well as the Clones and flowers they will be writing for are listed below and links to each fic will be added as they are posted! 💐 Follow the tag #cloneflowerficevent to see them all as they come!!
Event Masterlist
@arctrooper69 - Tup, Rex, Gregor
@photogirl894 - Hunter, Wrecker, Fives
@nahoney22 - Fox, Tech
@totallyunidentified - 99, Cody
@dragonrider9905 - Hardcase
@l-lend - Wolffe
@moonstrider9904 - Howzer
@eyecandyeoz - Waxer
Make sure to go check out their entries too, we'll be posting throughout the week!
Pairing: Echo x fem Jedi!reader
Chosen Flower: Cherry Blossoms
Word count: 3.7k
Rating: PG-13
Warnings/Notes: Mentions of death, mourning, disordered eating/recovery, nightmares, all canon trauma related to Echo's Techno Union arc, suggestive fluff, some swearing, reader has hair, friends (idiots) to lovers, mutual pining, a bit of angst
Beta-read by @photogirl894
As a Jedi Master you’re always being run hither and yon throughout the galaxy. Your most recent assignment has you on Naboo as head of security for a symposium of senators. Your squad of support troopers is set to arrive later today.
You have to admit, you’re a little nervous. The squad that’s being sent is Clone Force 99. You’ve worked with them before and get along with them well enough, but the thought of their newest member is what’s making your stomach churn.
Echo. You knew him before the mission that killed him, before he was even recruited for the 501st. He was your closest friend and confidant. After his valiant efforts on the Rishi Moon Outpost he was stationed on your Venator. You quickly recognized his skill for strategy and recruited him as your personal tactics advisor along with his twin, Fives. No matter how bad of a day you had, dinner and a walk with Echo always lifted your spirits.
Then Rex had to steal your Domino twins from you. You were so proud of them and you knew Anakin was gaining two of the best soldiers you’d ever seen, but you were still sad to see them go. You still kept in touch with Echo, you could always count on at least one holocall a week. You’d just fill each other in on the happenings in your lives, brainstorm war issues that were giving you trouble, talk about everything and nothing all at once. You were able to see him a couple times when you were sent to work with the 501st and it was always like no time had passed.
Then the Citadel happened.
You didn’t let anyone see you cry for him. A Jedi mourning a single clone? It felt like not many would understand, and the war was still raging. You had to move on with your head held high, and yet you were numb for months.
Fives kept in touch with you, you offered your condolences, but held it together for him. The two of you would share a holocall every month or so to catch up and reminisce in memories of Echo but it still wasn’t quite the same. Even though your best friend was gone, you found yourself talking to him under your breath about your day, just like those weekly holocalls.
Eventually the pain faded to just a dull ache in the background. Then Fives went rogue and was ‘decommissioned’ as the report put it. The last tie you had to Echo was gone. The Chancellor held that report under lock and key, so once again you mourned one of your Domino Twins with little comfort.
The numbness took over again, but this time it didn’t linger for quite as long. Just when you got to the point that memories of Echo and Fives brought happy tears, you got the comm from Anakin. They found Echo.
The guilt nearly swallowed you whole. Echo had been alive this whole time and you didn’t know. They mounted a rescue for him and you weren’t told. His recovery happened and you weren’t there. Today would be the first time you’d seen or spoken to him since your last holocall before the Citadel. You couldn’t help but wonder, ‘Why hadn’t he reached out to you before now?’
You had kept to yourself partly because you were being run into the ground by the Council, but also because you wanted to give him space. You weren’t sure he even remembered you. Would he still be your Echo?
Rex knew what Echo had meant to you and commed directly after they rescued him to fill you in more than Anakin had. He didn’t reveal much more, but he had let you know that the Techno Union did things to him. That he looked different, that he was found with a lot of integrated mechanics. That was months ago, and you hadn’t heard much since.
So here you were, anxiously wringing your hands awaiting the arrival of Squad 99.
You recognize their ship as they land, thankfully they scrubbed their nose art off before this mission. Probably with some convincing from Anakin. The ramp lowers and Sergeant Hunter disembarks to meet you.
You quickly run him through the plan for today. The symposium isn’t until tomorrow, but it is up to you to survey the venue to note ‘problem areas’ and make sure nothing is compromised.
Hunter suggests that Wrecker and Crosshair pair off and that he’ll go with Tech. He gives you an all-knowing look when you do the math of who’s left. You’d mentioned Echo in passing before to Hunter while on missions. When he commed to debrief about this mission, he asked how you were and suddenly you were spilling nearly everything about your history with Echo. Hunter had assured you his squad was taking care of him and that your worries would stay between the two of you.
“You two need the time to talk.” Hunter muttered, squeezing your shoulder and calling to his brothers.
You’re left waiting at the bottom of the ramp for a few more minutes before a figure appears in the Marauder’s door. Your stomach drops at the sight of him.
He looks so different. New metal legs shine in the sunlight, and a scomp link is where his right hand used to be. ‘No more double wielding,’ you think to yourself. His new armor is red and black, Batch colors. Your heart does warm at the sight of the kama he’s wearing, at least he hasn’t forgotten that he’s still an ARC. His new helmet is tucked under his scomp arm.
His eyes brighten when he sees you. Mechanical studs for Maker knows what dot his scalp, but even though his skin is much paler and his face is sunken in, those are still the same amber eyes that you’ve sought comfort in so many times.
Your voice is shaky at first. “E-Echo?”
Some color spreads across the bridge of his nose as he rubs the back of his neck. “Yeah, d-different I know. You look good though.”
You smile at his compliment and lead the way to the side of the venue you two will be surveying. At first you walk in silence, neither of you really sure how to bridge the gap between you. You want to ask him how he’s been, how his recovery went, explain how sorry you are for not being there, but the words keep getting stuck in your throat.
You open your mouth to say something, but Echo beats you to it. “Do you still like roast bantha?”
“Y-yeah?” You respond, a little taken aback by his odd question. “Why?”
He shrugs “Because I had some the other week and it was the first real meal I enjoyed since returning.”
“It was my favorite, still is.”
“I remember.” Echo gives you a sideways glance. “You can ask, I know you want to.”
Of course he knew what you were thinking. You go back to wringing your hands. “I- I want to apologize first. I didn’t even know a rescue was happening, I should have been there but no one told me. I was off the grid on Taris.”
Once the words start, they don’t stop. “Anakin commed me after they got you out but they didn’t let me see you on Coruscant. Then you were reassigned and I didn’t know where you were. I’m sorry I should have reached out, but I wanted to give you space. I didn’t know if you remembered me...”
Echo stops you by resting his hand on your shoulder.. “It’s okay, really. You don’t need to apologize. I had a whole army of people fussing over me. I should have reached out, that was on me. I just didn’t know how you’d feel about all… this” He says gesturing to himself.
“Oh Echo, no. I don’t care about that. I was just so worried, I just wanted you to be okay.” You say hurriedly. “Are you- are you okay?”
He nods, turning to start walking again. “I am, there’s been some adjustments but I’m getting used to it.”
You tilt your head curiously, “Tell me about it. If you feel comfortable.”
“Of course I feel comf-'' His words are cut off when he stumbles on the stone path beneath your feet. “Well that’s one thing. These damn legs. The Techno Union gave me some rudimentary ones, but these are much more complex. They’re heavier and made me a couple inches taller too. I probably looked like a newborn fathier for the first couple weeks.”
You stifle a snicker and Echo notices.
“You can laugh, really.” He reassures you. “I missed that laugh of yours. You always shared my sense of humor.”
“Did they hurt?” You wonder aloud, glancing down at his metal thigh.
He shrugs, “Nah, not really. They’re wired up so that I can feel some sensation of moving but I can’t really register touch, it’s more of a dull pressure. Sometimes I’ll get some weird feelings, like an ache or an itch in my leg that’s not there, Tech called it ‘phantom pains.’ The most annoying thing is that I always feel warm now from the mechanics in me.”
Echo can see the curiosity glinting in your eyes. “Here.” He says, halting and propping his foot up on a nearby garden wall. He moves his kama out of the way before he gently takes your hand and presses your hand to his left thigh.
You can feel the warmth under your palm. It’s not quite like the warmth from human skin, but it’s not like the warmth from a databank either. It reminds you of the warmth of your lightsaber, you can still feel Echo’s life force pulsing under your touch.
“Incredible.” You mutter as he readjusts himself. “I remember you were always freezing before.”
He chuckles. “Yeah, I suppose I was. I would always steal Fives’ blankets.”
Your heart pangs at the mention of Echo’s twin. “Rex told you, I assume?”
“Yeah. He did.” Echo sighs. “Said something in his and Tup’s heads malfunctioned but couldn’t tell me much else. We had a little memorial for them.”
“That’s nice. I wasn’t there when it happened, he and I talked about you a lot.”
“I know he definitely would have had a few jokes about this.” Echo says waving his scomp link, trying to lighten the mood.
Your brow scrunches. “I’m surprised Anakin didn’t offer to make you a hand like his.”
“He did, I just thought I’d keep the scomp. Means we don’t have to lug around an astromec to get into places. I don’t mind it, it’s all right.” A sly smirk spreads across his face.
You groan at him. “Was that a kriffing joke?” You say, fully laughing at him. “You’re terrible. Fives would be proud.”
Echo’s laughter joins yours. “Yeah, he would’ve nearly pissed himself watching me figure this thing out. One morning I nearly took my eye out trying to rub it with this.”
You cover your mouth and groan at the thought as Echo continues.
“Another time I was enjoying some morning caf and leaned on the counter, only I forgot I didn’t have a hand anymore and the scomp slipped. Fell flat on my face and I smelled like caf all day.”
Again, your laughter starts back up at the mental image. “The Batch, are they treating you well?” You ask between giggles.
“They are.” Echo says with a nod. “They’ve really helped me through some of the rough parts.”
“Oh?”
“Well of course Tech has helped me figure out the kinks of my new mechanics.” Echo shrugs. “But he also really helped me with speech. For a while my mind was a bit jumbled. My thoughts were broken with old battle strategies, the data Techno Union kept pulling. I would lose the word for something right before I said it, use the wrong word, misunderstand what someone was saying. Tech helped me realize that my brain had literally been damaged, rewired, and that it would take time to come back from that. When I didn’t have the words, he had them for me. Others may find his tendency to finish peoples’ sentences a bit annoying, but I was thankful for it. Saved me a lot of frustration when I was trying to communicate early on.”
“I’ve always found that trait of his endearing.” You reply, not wanting to stunt Echo’s sharing.
“And Hunter’s great too. It’s been kind of nice having someone else in charge. He talked to me about it, acknowledged that I had more wartime experience than him, but he knew I needed to take a step back and heal, not be the one with all the answers.”
You smile at his mention of the Sergeant’s intentions. “Hunter has a big heart, he sees a lot more than you’d think.”
Echo nods. “He helped me with other things too. I sometimes get these electronic migraines. Tech thinks they happen when the mechanics in my head overstimulate the electrical activity of my brain but he couldn’t really figure out a solution. Hunter did though, since he gets migraines himself. Showed me his whole care routine to shorten them and ride it out.”
Memories of the time you witnessed one of Hunter’s migraines make you wince. “I hope they’re not too bad.”
“No, not with their help. The hardest thing to figure out was how to gain weight again.”
“Really? I wouldn’t have guessed, I mean you look…” Your words are lost as you gesture to him.
He gives you a sly look, but continues without comment. “Yeah. Food just wasn’t the same for me when I woke up. I don’t really understand the science behind it, but I wasn’t fed in Purkoll. They must have been giving me something but when I woke up I was emaciated and, I just didn’t have an interest in food. The appetite came back pretty quick as I started being more active, but I just couldn’t find stuff that made me want to eat. I mentioned the Bantha roast, that was Wrecker’s idea since he remembered you making it one time on mission. He’s been a big help in finding things I like. He also has this way of packing an insane amount of calories and protein into a meal. He was also pretty big in helping me regain muscle mass. Surprisingly, or maybe not, he was always the one to check in on me, make sure I wasn’t being pushed too hard.”
You smile. “Wrecker is a sweetheart, and he does have a way with food. He can make those GAR ration packs taste better than anyone. He has a way with people too.”
“His workouts are intense, though.” Echo jokes.
“Tell me about it.” You shake your head. “I hope Crosshair hasn’t given you too much trouble. He can be intense in a different way.”
“Crosshair?” Echo repeats. “Nah, he’s okay. He gives me shit like he does everyone else. He was a nice change from all the doctors fussing over me. He didn’t look at me like I was fragile. He didn’t treat me like I was going to break at any second, even when he…” Echo trails off, but you can sense his thoughts.
“You have nightmares don’t you.” You state gently.
Echo nods. “One of the first nights I was with them I had this dream. I was back there in that city being taken apart and pieced back together again; having my mind played with. I’m pretty sure I was talking in my sleep, yelling more likely. When I woke up I saw Crosshair was on watch, but he had his back turned to me. He didn’t say anything the next day and neither did the others. I don’t know if they heard me because they’re all heavy sleepers, or if Crosshair told them not to say anything. I don’t know if he’s been doing it on purpose, but he always takes watch when it’s my turn to sleep. Whenever I’m napping too, he’s always there with his back to me. It helped with the dreams, knowing I had someone watching for me.”
“Echo…” You mutter, unsure of what to say. You want to comfort him, but what could you do for him that his squad hasn’t already? He’s healing without you.
A breeze picks up before you find the words causing soft pink flowers to start raining down on the two of you from the trees above. You move to brush them out of your hair, but Echo’s hand wraps around your wrist to stop you.
“No, leave them.” He says, “They’re pretty.”
You bow your face to try to hide the warmth rising in your cheeks as Echo guides you to a nearby bench.
“Sit with me for a moment?” His voice is timid.
“Of course.”
“You helped me too, you know.” Echo says, tracing his fingers over your palm.
“How could I possibly have helped you?” You sigh, trying and failing at hiding the sadness in your voice. “I wasn’t there, haven’t been there.”
“But you have.” Echo insists. “It’s hard to explain, but in Purkoll I had these moments where it was almost like I was myself again. It was probably in the lulls when the Separatists weren’t accessing my memories. In those moments I talked to you, like we used to. I talked about my days, reminisced about the good times, funny memories. I think it’s what kept me from losing myself entirely. And when I woke up… I sort of kept doing it. The Batch is great, but they didn’t know me before, you know? They’ve never known me as anything other than this.”
Echo gestures to himself with his scomp before continuing. “And Rex, he did, but staying with him felt like it would’ve been a step backwards. I needed to move on, but I didn’t want to forget who I was, you knew me better than anyone, even Fives. There were days when it felt like I would never recover, never be the elite soldier I once was. Those were the days I talked to you the most, imagined what you’d say back to me. In my mind you’d let me have my pity party, then tell me to get my ass in gear. I should’ve just commed you for the real conversation, but I was a coward. I was afraid that you’d look at me like I was broken, so I kept you in my head. I hope that’s not weird…” He trails off.
You don’t even know what to say as your chest fills with awe. All this time, he’s been talking to you?
Echo gently tucks a loose strand of hair behind your ear. “These flowers suit you.” He says gently, filling the silence.
You glance up at the tree above you and hum to yourself. “They’re cherry blossoms. Fitting.”
“How so?”
“They’re a symbol of rebirth and new beginnings.” You explain. “Echo, it’s not weird or cowardly that you’ve been talking to me. I’ve been doing the same actually. I thought about comming you every day after Anakin and Rex told me they found you, but I was so terrified you wouldn’t remember me.”
He gently grasps your chin with his thumb and forefinger to raise your eyes to his. “I could never forget you. You were the tether that kept me, me. I wish we hadn’t wasted time getting back in touch.”
A light laugh passes through your nose. “Another lesson of the cherry blossoms. They bloom for only few days and remind us that life is fleeting.”
“If life is fleeting, then I guess I should go ahead and do this.” Echo mutters before leaning towards you.
He’s timid at first when your lips connect, but grows more bold as the seconds melt into minutes. You can feel his scomp arm pull you closer as his hand tousles in your hair. There’s a tiny voice in the back of your head chastising you, ‘Jedi cannot have selfish attachments.’ You immediately push it aside.
This, the love you have for Echo is no selfish attachment. You already lost him once, you mourned him and never turned from the light. He was your light. Your confidence builds as his tongue begins to explore yours, the garden around you fading away. The feelings you both harbored for each other all these years are finally confessed without a single word being spoken. It’s just you.
You don’t even know how long you two have been tangled in each other when you can hear a faint beeping coming from Echo’s bracer. He must have heard it too because he breaks away from you with a grumble before answering the comm.
“Echo, go.” He answers.
‘Echo, it’s Hunter. We’ve all finished our surveillance and are back at the Marauder, what’s your status?”
Echo’s eyes flit to you with your hand pressed over your mouth trying to keep from laughing. “We-uhhh got dis- duh… sah-sidetracked. Something suspicious we had to investigate.”
From the tiny snicker Hunter lets slip you can tell he doesn’t buy it. ‘Alright, we’ll keep your rations warm. Will the General be joining us?’
“Sure Hunter, I’d love to.” You call before Echo can answer.
‘Sounds like a plan. Don’t take too long or you’ll kiss- I mean miss dinner.’
“Womp-rat bastard.” Echo grumbles when Hunter ends the call.
You nearly keel over with laughter at Hunter’s comment and the expression Echo has on his face.
“I’m glad you find this amusing. How in Sith’s Hells did he even know?” He says, obviously trying to keep a straight face.
“Oh please.” You say, grinning. “Hunter’s literally enhanced to sense everything, he got us good. Come on,” you say, standing up. “Let’s finish our round so we can go eat.”
Echo stands shaking his head, but he takes your hand and gestures further down the path. “After you, ner sarad.”
“That’s mando, I recognize it.” You say over your shoulder. “What does it mean?”
Echo smiles at you, his eyes, those same old eyes lighting up. “I'll tell you all about it.
#the bad batch#star wars#tbb#the clone wars#cloneflowerficevent#tbb echo#ct 1409#ct1409#arc trooper echo#clone trooper echo#echo#bad batch echo#the bad batch echo#fives and echo#echo x reader#echo x you
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Hey I know this isn't on-topic for an Eridan blog but you're the best HS theorist I know <3 so do you happen to have any theories about WHY Gamzee faked god tier? I always see theories about how he could be a real god tier too, or about how he manages to be immortal even though he's not god tier, but I cannot find any discussion of WHY he bothered with that ruse in the first place!!! He didn't even fool anyone, unless we count Caliborn for like 2 secs before Hussie told him the truth, and all he got for his trouble was shot!
I think it's mostly a gag, but this is the Analyzing Homestuck blog, so: I think it's because Gamzee wants to look like an adult to impress Caliborn.
Gamzee's lusus is physically neglectful.
But you were never taught that on account of a lousy upbringing. Your custodian was always out to sea.
And several things stem from that neglect - the first, his indoctrination into the Clown Cult, the second, his extensive and all-encompassing drug usage, and the third, his poor social skills, which leave him ostracized by his teammates.
Let's first take a look at what, exactly, that religion entails:
You belong to a RATHER OBSCURE CULT, which foretells of a BAND OF ROWDY AND CAPRICIOUS MINSTRELS which will rise one day on a MYTHICAL PARADISE PLANET that does not exist yet. The beliefs of this cult are SOMEWHAT FROWNED UPON by those dwelling in more common lawnrings.
TC: I PeEpEd oN A PlAcE Of 6 tRiLlIoN HeMoS
TC: AlL Up aT OnE RoCk, BlEeDiNg aS EqUaLs
TC: It's eAsY To sEe iF YoU SeArCh aLl yOuR FeElInS
TC: ThAt pEaCe hApPeNs fIrSt, AnD MuRdEr's tHe sEqUeL
TC: It's tHe bEaUtY Of tHe cArNiVaL, tHe mAgIc's iN TeNtS
TC: all my life i believed at a fuckin paradise to come what held the most baller, darkest of carnivals to join.
TC: AND A PROPHECY
TC: to tell all about a band of rowdy and capricious minstrels steeped in the good harshwhimsy.
TC: THE MIRTHFUL MESSIAHS WERE FORETOLD TO BE CRASHING THAT FUCKING PIE STAND AND BRING THE HOLY RUCKUS.
TC: like a giddy fuckin ninja one wheeling head long at the hugest fuckin horn heap shangri la's got to see.
TC: I'M TALKING ABOUT THE VAST HONK, YOU BLASPHEMOUS MOTHERFUCKER.
TC: what i believed in it to be was so beautiful, us and them all mellowing in tents, bumpin sounds, tossing back the faygo and soaking the miracles up our faith sponges, while the special stardust rained down at our elixir sticky faces, like a bunch a fuckin fairy powder from religion space.
TC: IT WAS GOING TO BE US AND MOTHER FUCKING THEM.
TC: them and mother fuckin us. :o(
In essence: Gamzee's cult believes that there will be a Vast Honk, which will kill all trolls; however, "a band of rowdy and capricious minstrels" will usher in/create a new paradaisical planet of nothing but good vibes and chill times, where the "mirthful messiahs" will get to enjoy eternity.
There's pretty clear parallels here to the Christian concept of the Rapture, which fits in with the Garden of Eden/Original Sin themes of the Dancestors and the Second Coming thing Karkat's got going on. But, more importantly, it's also pretty directly just... what SGRUB/SBURB are all about. Their original population all dies, but a bunch of kids band together to create a new universe, with new planets, where theoretically live out the rest of their godhood in peace and happiness.
Were it not for the casteist influences as a result of being a cult largely followed by highbloods, there'd pretty much be nothing inherently objectionable about Gamzee's belief system - it's fundamentally hopeful, and, in fact, when he raps about it to Tavros, part of it is outright about "equalizing" the hemocaste (they all bleed as equals, see). Tavros agrees:
AT: tHE SLAMS WERE TRULY PRIME, aND,
AT: yOUR RELIGIOUS VIEWS, tHOUGH i DON'T SHARE THEM, aRE,
AT: rEASONABLY INSPIRATIONAL,
AT: i THINK i'M IN THE PROCESS OF RELEASING AT LEAST ONE TEAR,
Next, we'll look at the sopor usage and ostracization together, because I think they're interlinked. People on Gamzee's team are friggin' mean to him.
CG: MIRACLES ARE LIKE POOP STAINS ON GOD'S UNDERWEAR.
TA: eheheh makiing fun of people2 reliigiion2 i2 the be2t thiing two do.
GC: NO TH4T SHOULD BOTH3R YOU, TH4T R34SON
GC: WHY DONT TH1NGS L1K3 TH4T BOTH3R YOU??
GC: NO WOND3R V4NT4S C4NT ST4ND YOU
CT: D --> What you do appear to know is e%actly how to ma%imize my livid contempt for you
CT: D --> With your revolting language and your sense of decorum
CT: D --> At such breathtaking odds with the richness and perfe%ion of your b100d
CT: D --> I just hate you so much
CA: that is the wworst fuckin advvice
CA: wwhat an awwful thing a you to say
CA: MAGIC ISNT REAL STUPID STOP BELIEVVIN IN IT
On the whole, the team treats him as the party joke, if not outright worthy of derision. The one person on his team who IS nice to him, Tavros, ghosts him after Gamzee is too forward and asks to make out with him. He's deeply lonely, and what's more, his introductory narration is littered with pessimism.
You'll be doing one thing then something else hits you just like that and you roll with it. That's what you do when life hands you lemons. You sure as fuck don't make lemonade because who the fuck knows where that fuckin' shit comes from?
Someone is bugging you. This is exciting. You're always down for shooting the wicked shit with anyone that who'll put up with you.
That last one makes it clear that Gamzee is also aware of how much people on the team don't like him.
I'm also of the opinion that "Soft Gamzee" was always fake and never existed, which is outright stated by Hussie from the book:
The best explanation for why Gamzee says he's scared of Vriska, in my opinion, is this: he's flat-put lying. It's a good way for him to maintain his cover as 'Soft Gamzee.' It also provides some ammunition for those who, against all sense of good taste and judgment, want to continue to believe and assert that Gamzee is a decent guy with sensitive emotions and vulnerabilities before he undergoes his Muderstuck awakening. He was none of those things, ever.
But there's evidence for this - Gamzee has actually always been kind of casteist:
AT: i THINK i'M IN THE PROCESS OF RELEASING AT LEAST ONE TEAR,
TC: Me tOo, BrO, yOu mOtHeR FuCkIn kNoW ThErE Be sOmE Of mY EyE's RoYaL JeLlY To gO WiTh yOuR EmOtIoNaL pEaNuT BuTtEr.
AT: wHOA, aHA, hA,
He's trying to be affectionately so here, but given Tavros's "whoa, haha," reaction, it seems like it's still a pretty out-of-pocket thing to say. Especially in light of GamRezi, it's pretty easy to read him as making passive-aggressive digs to Terezi here:
TC: I'm OuTsIdE kEePiNg An EyE oUt HeRe FoR tHe OlD gOaT.
TC: yOu KnOw HoW iT iS wItH fAmIlY.
GC: NO, NOT R34LLY!
GC: 4DURRRR DURR DURP
TC: Oh YeAh...
TC: hAvE yOu EvEr EvEn SeEn ThE oCeAn?
TC: oR i MeAn SmElLeD iT...
TC: SoRrY.
GC: >:[
His reaction to Eridan is also "indulge emotional theatrics," but depending on whether you believe Eridan killed his lusus, it's debatably justified. I'm just going to mention that that's also there.
His constant assertion that Karkat is his best friend, which isn't reciprocated until after murderstuck, also kind of reads as a palecrush to me. This is supported by the fact that Nepeta has always had pale GamKat on her shipping wall - which I believe is more representative of how people feel and what they want than whether a romantic pairing is viable, as part of her Heart (and NOT Blood) powers.
He won't stop referring to Karkat as his best friend, really awkwardly changes the topic when the conversation has led to him having to acknowledge that Karkat is closer to Sollux (whom Karkat calls his best friend):
TC: yEaH mAyBe BuT hE's YoUr BeSt FrIeNd ThOuGh So It'S aLl CoOl.
TC: AnYwAy I tHoUgHt ThIs SoUnDeD lIkE a PrEtTy BiG mOtHeRfUcKiN dEaL mY mAn.
TC: aAaUuUhHh...
CG: WHAT.
TC: Aw BrO nEvErMiNd, I jUsT fUcKiN dId LiKe To ScArE tHe ShIt OuTtA mYsElF hErE.
TC: tHeSe DaMn HoRnS.
(Sidebar about the usage of "best friend," Karkat pretty much outright says he's unreliable when it comes to who his best friend is at any given moment LOL - he spends pre-murderstuck insisting Sollux is HIS best friend. King of mixed signals.)
EB: who is gamzee?
CG: HE WAS MY BEST FRIEND.
EB: really? i thought terezi was your best friend.
...
CG: GAMZEE WAS MY VERY GOOD FRIEND, WHO WAS THIS GOOFY LOVEABLE BULLSHIT CLOWN UNTIL HE WENT PSYCHO AND KILLED SOME PEOPLE. I LIKED HIM A LOT.
CG: I DON'T KNOW, I GUESS MY BEST FRIEND IS REALLY JUST THE GUY WHO I HAPPEN TO BE FEELING MOST SENTIMENTAL TO AT THE MOMENT, IS THAT A FUCKING CRIME.
If we take Hussie's statement that Gamzee lied when he chased Vriska (whom he doesn't like) away from his horn pile -
GAMZEE: VrIsKa hEy yOu wAnT To uH…
VRISKA: What?
GAMZEE: ShIt, I WaS AlL GoInG To aSk iF YoU WaNtEd tO HoP In tHe hOrN PiLe fOr a bIt oF MoThErFuCkIn sHuTeYe, BuT…
GAMZEE: I DoN'T ThInK I WiLl cAuSe i'm pReTtY MuCh sCaReD Of yOu, SoyEaH.
VRISKA: Aww. ::::)
Then it stands to reason he's also lying about being scared of Jack so he can prevent Eridan from providing Karkat with emotional support:
CA: this is a lot a pointless fuckin rubbish and isnt no emotional help to him or me either for that matter
CA: put kar on
TC: UuUuH, i cAn't rEaLlY ThInK AbOuT InTeRvEnInG, tHe bLaCk fRoWnInG MoThErFuCkEr kInDa sCaReS Me
So, personally, signs point to Gamzee always having been a lot shiftier and meaner than he let on.
Naturally, that begs the question of why he's pretending to be nicer and higher than he actually is (not that he isn't high, but he's definitely more cognizant of what's going on than people both in- and out-of-universe give him credit for). Well, the answer to that is pretty simple: it's because he loves his friends and wants to get along with them.
You like to chat a lot with your pal Karkat, who is usually pretty cranky, but he is your BEST FRIEND. You have a lot of OTHER GREAT FRIENDS who you also like a lot.
Gamzee's story pre-murderstuck is a pretty tragic one about a kid who never got to learn proper socialization and has whacked-out religious beliefs, whose neglect from his lusus has left him with deep loneliness, who desperately wants to fit in with his friends, especially the lowbloods, and therefore feels the need to hide how pessimistic and angry he actually is under the guise of drug usage and not retaliating against the constant digs they make at him.
I also feel like I have to specify that Gamzee was already a pretty angry, mean, troubled kid prior to Murderstuck, because it helps to clarify his actions after being influenced by Lil' Cal. The nonlinear nature of the story kind of confuses the sequence of events, but it seems to be as follows:
Dave blasphemes against Gamzee's religion so hard that Gamzee has a total crisis of faith.
Gamzee has a breakdown and gets so pissed off that he oopsie-daisy'd a jester puppet into John's room on Prospit.
Gamzee, with his faith lost ("and now i don't know what to think about the spiritual fantasies i had"), Tavros dead, and thus in a very emotionally fragile state, is contacted by Doc Scratch and given instructions (likely to kill his friends and paint his wicked pictures in their blood). At some point during this, he falls under Lil' Cal's influence, too. As every person we've seen under LE's sway has very compelling, natural reasons for acting the way they do, I think it's better to see Lil' Cal's influence as influence and not mind control. It brings out the worst in its victims, but only what was already there.
This seems to give Gamzee a new belief system to replace/supplement the old.
TC: i've been kicking the wicked ignorance on this shit.
TC: BEEN MOTHERFUCKIN SLAUGHTERING THE WICKED IGNORANCE, BRO.
TC: all up in lifelong denial about my calling.
TC: AS A DESCENDANT OF THE HIGH MOTHERFUCKIN SUBJUGGLATORS.
TC: we are higher than you, brother.
TC: WE ARE HIGHER THAN MOTHERFUCKIN EVERYBODY.
TC: honk.
CG: GAMZEE
CG: PLEASE NO
TC: and now i'm the last one, so i finally motherfuckin understand.
TC: I FINALLY GOT MY MOTHERFUCKING UNDERSTAND ON TO WHO THE MIRTHFUL MESSIAHS ARE.
TC: they were always both me. :o)
TC: AND ALSO MOTHERFUCKING ME. Do:
Remember, his original belief system actually emphasized equalizing the castes - in death, anyway. It also never specified that the Mirthful Messiahs would be specifically highbloods. The hint that Gamzee had internalized casteism was always there, but now that his belief system has been supplanted by this new one, delivered by Doc Scratch (the story's Devil figure), his casteism becomes full-blown:
GAMZEE: heheh.
GAMZEE: CHECK IT THE MOTHERFUCK OUT.
GAMZEE: it's the peasantblood.
GAMZEE: HEH HEH.
GAMZEE: fuckin heh.
EQUIUS: D --> Peasantb100d
EQUIUS: D --> Is that a joke
GAMZEE: if your blood.
GAMZEE: IS A RUNNING MOTHERFUCKING GAG.
GAMZEE: then soon.
GAMZEE: IT WILL BE RUNNING.
GAMZEE: through my motherfucking fingers.
TC: shit was motherfuckin poison, didn't you know?
CG: UH...
CG: NO? I MEAN, I WOULD NEVER EAT IT, BUT
TC: THEN GET MOTHERFUCKIN SCHOOLFED ALL ABOUT THE WICKED NEWS, PUNCHLINE BLOODED MOTHERFUCKER.
Basically, the religious boy had a crisis of faith and was tempted by the Devil into becoming his servant - into desiring utter oblivion for everyone except his own continued existence within the one doing the destroying, rather than a paradise of love, friendship, and hope. And this new faith is what carries Gamzee through to the end of the comic:
KARKAT: HE STARTED GETTING SO UNBELIEVABLY SELF SATISFIED AND PIOUS, LIKE WAY MORE THAN HE EVER WAS BEFORE.
KARKAT: LIKE HE'S JUST SO COMPLETELY CONVINCED HE'S FOUND HIS CALLING, THAT THIS SESSION IS THE GATEWAY TO THE PROMISED LAND WHERE HE'LL FULFILL HIS DESTINY.
KARKAT: HE'S SO CAUGHT UP IN HIS IDIOTIC SCHEMES HE COULDN'T GIVE A FUCK ABOUT ME ANYMORE.
KARKAT: WHATEVER. AT LEAST HE STOPPED KILLING PEOPLE.
So where does that bring us WRT the fake god-tier ensemble? Well, god-tiering in general is kind of a metaphor for becoming an adult - SGRUB/SBURB sets out for its player a quest directly tied into their maturation into adults, and god-tiering is (normally) supposed to sit right at the end of that questline, a semi-permanent state achieved at the end of adolescence. Characters who DO manage to god-tier without having naturally reached that point in their questline, especially Vriska, Dave, and Rose, have struggles that deal directly with "growing up too fast" - Vriska with the expectation that she be a vicious murderer, Dave with having never addressed his trauma and abuse, and Rose with having missed out on a loving relationship with her mother because she insisted on being more mature than her.
Gamzee's relationship to Caliborn is that of a parent:
ARANEA: It is just as well that cheru8 parents a8andon their offspring. Raising such a child 8y the familial standards of any race would 8e a monumental challenge.
ARANEA: Nevertheless, it would seem there were those who tried.
ARANEA: Details in my research suggest our villain had a num8er of acolytes oper8ting in the shadows, preparing for his arrival.
Kurloz also directly states that Gamzee's role in their religion is to serve and mentor their young lord:
KURLOZ: I COME BEARING THEE FINAL JOLLY ACCOUTREMENT MY FAITHFUL INVERTEBROTHER
KURLOZ: THY BARDLY REGALIA IS DONE AND FUCKING DUSTED BY THE SPECIAL STARS THEMSELVES
KURLOZ: ON THIS DAY THE DARK CARNIVAL REJOICED AND SAID IT WAS MONEY
KURLOZ: NOW BRING TO LIFE OUR WICKED RUSE WITH APLOMB MY NINJA
KURLOZ: OUR LORD AWAITS YOUR SERVITUDE AND TUTELAGE AT ONCE
And even beyond the religion aspect, Gamzee would take this job mother fucking seriously...
... Because his own parent failed him. See, we tie it all back to the beginning! Gamzee putting together a shitty fake god tier outfit is because he wants to be a good parent to Caliborn, an adult figure he never had in his own life, and god tiering is symbolic of that. And I think the saddest part is, he still didn't really manage to do that... because, perpetuating the neglect he faced from his own lusus, he wound up locking the two in a room and leaving them alone - possibly out of exasperation.
ARANEA: We will pro8a8ly never know who these scurrilous conspir8tors were. 8ut it is evident that at some point the cheru8 was locked in a room, either out of exasper8tion, or for its own good, until it was old enough to enter the session.
Like, I feel kind of bad for Gamzee, y'know? Especially since, alongside Eridan, he's one of the trolls the fandom seems to understand the least, and his story is also one of being failed by his family, society, and friends. This winds up turning him towards the worst parts of himself - the religious fundamentalism, the casteism, the emotional isolation - and away from the good - the fact that he loved his mother fucking friends, enough to wish upon them eternal paradise.
#homestuck#gamzee makara#homestuck analysis#homestuck lore#idk what to tag this#also i give up on fixing the colors. sorry
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Great wave spoilers//
WHATTATTATATATT
THE TONE SHIFT WAS CRAZYYYY
I love these two and the newly weds paralleling each other. Maybe I’m reaching but they literally look like genderbend Amalia and Yugo (THE SAME PONYTAIL??) I also feel absolutely awful for them because considering the high tensions and that they are the first official now married Elia-Sadida couple besides their king and queen they have a TON of pressure on them that rides on their relationship.
(I saw a hc that they met on the battle field which is soooo cute… the war is tearing both sides apart but it brought them together 🥺)
I feel so bad though, this poor Eliatrope who’s lost her parents in a war, been stuck in a timeless dimension for 10k+ years- gets out to be apart of this elite squad and then loses her family AGAIN+ all the younger siblings she spent so much time with. Falls in love and gets to be happy but has to represent her people and the ties, I imagine she has a lot of weight on her shoulders. (side eyes Yugo)
And on top of that she watches her king who she and the few of her people that are left rely on get poisoned, likely by the very same people she has to live among every day. Next to her husband 😭😭😭 I LOVE that last shot with them at the other end of the table paralleling Amalia and Yugo. I feel soooooo bad for her. Just when things were going smoothly too :(
Also this is weird but I genuinely like Aurora?? She’s a total b*tch but her crazy jumps in logic and genuine narcissism and insanity infatuate me. While I’m sure she might have some sympathetic traits she works a lot better as an antagonist when you aren’t trying to look for a sympathetic villain. She looked at this wedding and immediately made it about herself. “Armand wouldn’t have” BABE… Armand might not have but he would not be acting the way you are 😭😭Honestly I like this direction?? Maybe that’s just me but it’s fun to see her character get explored and not just be… there. Sitting next to her husband forever and not being allowed to speak.
I actively want to see her downfall but I hope it’s really fun. She’s so self centered but it works so well. A but like Azula from avatar, I feel like she’s going to grow worse over time and do crazier and crazier things until she’s completely lost it. And I am so here for it.
It seems like the pregnancy is genuine. There’s always a possibility she’s lying or there’s another factor we won’t see until later. But until now it does seem somewhat real. And I don’t think they (or at least Aurora) had a hand in poisoning Yugo. Since Osa says “Let them enjoy this last party.” But that could also have been a last as in “I’m going to kill them-take them out” it’s been said but it’s likely Amalia will accuse Aurora since she’s the “outsider” and the most suspicious at the moment. And Aur might be hurt by this since she lost her husband too. Etc.
“Wow maybe royal duties aren’t always so b-“ and then he immediately throws up blood.
Poor Yu 😭😭 I’m wondering if Amalia’s drink was poisoned too. She didn’t sniff it or anything, maybe she just got the feeling something was wrong? (Sheram Sham intuition) I feel soooo awful for her. I honestly can’t blame her for immedietly freaking out, she’s lost so much. All of her family is gone and after a long stressful day with Yugo’s nightmare, the arguments, Aurora showing up and having to manage an entire very important wedding with high tensions, seeing the love of her life and really her only family get sick with a possibility of death right before her eyes is terrifying.
These two really can’t catch a break (and this all happened in ONE day)
Anyway considering how slow the last few chapters have been the build off is definitely paying off. On the edge of my seat for next week (hoping for some Yumalia comfort :,)
Wip for a piece “to Poison a god” ;)
#ON THE EDGE OF MY SEAT#rant#srry#not rlly#wakfu#la grande vague#wakfu the great wave#wakfu la grande vague#the great wave#wakfu art#wakfu yugo#Yugo wakfu#wakfu amalia sheran sharm#yugo x amalia#wakfu amalia#amalia sheran sharm#sadida#eliatrope#king yugo#wakfu aurora#wakfu analysis
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Boyfriend Toji, who left killing people as a job, changing completely once you began dating and actually found a stable job, providing for you both.
Boyfriend Toji, who indulges in activities with you, making a huge change in his life to keep you happy and yearns for more moments like this, when you both are at peace.
Boyfriend Toji, who stopped consuming alcohol and smoking, for the sake of you both's future, who wants to have kids with you and doesnt want the consequences of smoking having an effect on his fertility.
Boyfriend Toji, who met your parents, asking for your hand in marriage and when they said yes, he goes out shopping with them to buy your proposal ring.
Boyfriend Toji, who takes you out on a nice picnic date, enjoying your presence and drowning in it.
Boyfriend Toji, who admires your beauty, leaving kisses here and there on your body, smiling against your skin and telling you how lucky he is to have you.
Boyfriend Toji who gets on one knee when you turn around to look at the view, waiting for you to turn around again.
Boyfriend Toji who has tears in his eyes, both out of happiness and nervousness as he asks you to marry him. He cried into your shoulder when you said yes, slipping the delicate band of gold on your ring finger, a promise to marry you.
Fiance Toji, who helps you pick out the perfect wedding dress, hugging you from behind as he whispers in your ear how pretty you are, while the receptionist looks at you both in awe from behind.
Fiance Toji, who you go wedding ring shopping with, finding the prettiest wedding bands for your wedding, telling you how he cant wait to slip the ring on your finger.
Fiance Toji, who helps you pick out the perfect wedding destination, and perfect decoration for your wedding.
Fiance Toji, who nearly shit his pants in nervousness on your wedding day, sweating out of nervousness as he practiced his vows a thousand times, to not fumble up.
Husband Toji, who slipped the ring on your finger, vowing eternal happiness and togetherness, kissing you on your lips, as the crowd cheered you on.
Husband Toji, who is so gentle with you on the night of the wedding, caressing your face, telling you how much of a good job you're doing at taking him in, calling you his princess, kissing you.
Husband Toji, who is overjoyed at the news of your pregnancy, hugging you tightly and whispering in your ear how thankful he is to you, promising to take care of you and the baby.
Husband Toji who helps you get on and off the bed, up and down the stairs, in and out of the bathroom and does all the household chores, from sweeping and mopping the floor to the dishes.
Husband Toji, who is overjoyed when he knows that his child is going to be a girl, who is filled with joy and happiness and cant stop telling you that he is so blessed to have 2 princesses in his life.
Husband Toji, who picks out baby clothes when you go shopping together, picking out the cutest outfits for your babygirl, also buying matching t-shirts for all the three of you.
Husband Toji, who is there with you throughout the birth process. He holds your hand, makes sure you're drinking enough water, comforting you through the whole process.
Father Toji, who finally heads the cry of his baby girl, tears of happiness brimming in his eyes. He holds his baby girl, and the tears fell, onto her soft and delicate skin.
Father Toji, who has skin-on-skin contact with his baby girl, feeling her delicate skin against his scarred one, kissing her forehead and sobbing hysterically, so happy about her.
Husband Toji, who hugs you tightly, thanking you over and over again for making him the luckiest man alive, for blessing him with your daughter.
© 2024 sukun4scumdump . do not copy, imitate or plagiarize. all content is purely an imagination, except for characters and universes .
#jujutsu kaisen#toji fushiguro#jjk x reader#toji x reader#jjk toji#toji x you#x reader#jjk#drabble#drabbles
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"The Mail Service Trilogy."
Here's part three of the trilogy of @missterious-figure Wine and Feathers AU! Was going to do some sort of feather-care, but than I thought of something better. (*tiny evil laughter*)
Enjoy!
You walk down the long private hallway of the casino, trying your best to carry the oversized package addressed to Eclipse without dropping it. Thankfully it’s not heavy, but it sure is a little cumbersome.
You would have already opened the package to remove its contents, as it was a part of your job to screen everything that comes in for the stars. Except the way your manager had pretty much busted into your office and tossed the package on your desk. Then demanded you to take it to the “prissy oversized drama-king” right away, didn’t give you much of an opportunity to make sure it was safe. Even though he did assure you that it is all safe and okay, he continues to yell and barates the most seeked after peacock about how he has been hounding him about this particular package. Then he starts yelling at you about how the mailroom wasn’t doing their job and should have taken it to you in the first place, even though you have nothing to do with it.
It seems ever since you got promoted to becoming their main handler, the manager seems to take any opportunity to express his frustrations and anger out on you whenever they do something he doesn’t approve of. Often when no one else is around.
You wipe away your incoming tears onto your shoulders as you try your best to shake off the underserved berating. But there isn’t anything you can do to change that you guess. As far as you know, there’s no one else higher than your boss besides the owner, and you know he doesn’t come here that often to be on any kind of name basis with you. You also know that HR is friends with your boss, so best to just leave–“Omph!”
While lost in your thoughts, you failed to realize someone was in front of you as you collided into them. Fortunately you didn’t drop the package, but instead started to fall backwards towards the ground. You already accepted your fate of getting a nasty headache from hitting your head onto the ground. Yet somehow you find you’re half suspended in the air as you feel then see a large bronze leather glove cradles the small of your back. You follow up the well muscular arm until you are face to black and hot pink face of the giant peacock harpy known as Eclipse.
He purrs as his amber eyes drinks you up like you are his favorite cocktail. “Careful now, my darling little gloaming star. You could have hurt your precious self and then someone would need to take care of you.” He leans in closer, “Although, I would be more than happy to take care of you anytime, my dear little handler.”
That’s when Eclipse notices how puffy and watery your eyes are, his demeanor changes from his overly flirtatious self to one of concern. Of course you don’t notice this because you are still reeling in from being flustered.
“I-I-I…” you swallow, “I-I have a p-package for yoooooou!?” You nearly screech out the last word as he tosses you over his shoulder, like you were fresh kill, causing you to drop the large box. “Eclipse!” You gasp as you try to hold onto his back without pulling at any of his orange feathers. “Wha-what are you doing?”
He doesn’t answer as he bends down to pick up the box with his free hand, then continues down the hallway towards your original destination, his private dressing room.
As you enter, you cry, “E-eclipse, please. P-put me d-down.”
“In a moment, my sweet little honeysuckle.” He tosses the package into his room as he turns around to shut and locks his door. You’re not sure you like where this is going. You know him to be the biggest flirt between the three of them, but you never thought he would outright kidnap you! Next he flungs you off his shoulder into his open arms, holding you up high so you are face-level with his oranges, reds and pinks feather-framed face. You found yourself squirming in his gentle embrace, having a hard time looking at his adorable face.
“Are you already?” he asks, his tenor-like voice entering into your soul like a pleasant evening breeze.
“I-I am f-fine,” you say, still refusing to look at him. The last thing you want is for him to worry about you.
He hums as he continues to observe you. You do recall that the name he had as a chick was “the watcher” and has developed these skills to the point you have no doubt he saw through your obvious lie.
“I-I was instructed by the manager to bring you this,” you say as you point at the package. “He…umm…said you really…(“Give that giant, overpriced feather duster his dumb package! I am getting really sick and tired of his cocky attitude, thinking he owns the damn place.)…need it as soon as it arrives.”
Another hum leaves his mouth as his lips turn into a half-frown, like he smells a dirty rat. He gently sets you down as if you were made of porcelain. “I’m sorry, sweet thing. If I had known he was going to give you such trouble, I would have practiced more patience if it would mean to save you from his wrath.”
You quickly look up at him, panic showing through your voice as you say, “No! No, it’s okay. He didn’t do anything—” A gloved finger was placed on your lips, instantly silently you. You stand there as you feel your face heat up in a bright blush that you’re surprised it doesn’t burn your skin.
Satisfy, Eclipse turns his attention to the partially battered package. He picks it up to remove the tape to take out its contents. He pulls out a large, rectangular piece of soft fabric that you quickly realized must be a king-sized blanket. Your eyes widen as you see the bronze color shimmer against the lights in the room. The large harpy takes two of the corners of the blanket into his hands to open up to reveal an amazing custom design of reds, hot pinks, blues, purples and bronze peacock feathers printed into the fabric. It was almost like someone tried to take his tail feathers to enchant it into this blanket.
“I had asked the manager to help me order this. Even used my own earnings though tips from the rich patrons to pay for this. But it seems I should have gone to someone more…tolerable, for help.”
Next thing you know, you are in complete darkness as Eclipse tosses the blanket on top of you. Before you could say any sort of sound, you feel large hands grab and spin you around until you are tightly wrapped up into a comfortable human burrito.
Oh My Stars! This is sooooo Soft!
Eclipse pulls down the blanket to reveal your star-struck face, causing him to laugh at how adorable you must look to him now.
“*hehehe* I knew you would look beautiful in my colors.” Eclipse proceeds to pick you up, bridal-style, and walks over to his Mayan hammock he has hanging on one side of the room. Carefully and elegantly, he turns and falls into the hanging breathable weave like he has done a million times before.
“E-eclipse? I-I really c-an’t–”
“Shhhhhhhhh. Don’t worry. You have enough time for a little break, my hardworking pheasant.”
He holds you close in his arms, ready to protect you from any danger that might come your way.
Part One: Done in an ask - Part Two: Over Here- Part Three: Here
#winged dca#harpy au#sun and moon fnaf#sundrop and moondrop#dca fandom#fnaf daycare attendant#harpy dca#harpy eclipse#winged au#wine and feathers au#dca fanfic#amymaleneart writing
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Absolutely loved ur latest prompt about Anthony picking Ian up and how you stick true to their characters it feels too realistic. On that note, since I'm an avid fan of protective worried Anthony, would you pls write something with Ian passing out while filming and Anthony hyperventilating over it.
aaaa this prompt has had my mind spinning since I first read it I'm so hyped to write it! and thank you soooo much, I tried really hard to keep their voices realistic in that one and I'm honestly very happy with the way it turned out! I'm so glad you enjoyed!! :D
(post-writing note: this turned out way more comfort than hurt lol, but it was just too cute to resist!)
It was a rager of a hot day in southern California. They were filming their latest sketch, which was unfortunately entirely outside, and were eager to just get the thing done.
"Should we take a break?" Anthony asked, "It's been a few hours out here, and this heat's really killing me."
"Let's just finish up this scene," Ian said wearily, his face slightly red from the sun.
Anthony nodded in agreement and turned to tell the crew to set the cameras at another angle.
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Ian suddenly drop like a sack of potatoes, one second standing, then not. It was almost like a bit. It would have been funny, except that the way he ragdolled to the floor sent a horrid chill through Anthony. That was not the way someone fell on purpose, for comedy or otherwise. Anthony turned.
"Ian?" He said, distantly.
Erin was already running toward him, holding her huge water bottle. "Someone bring a sheet!" She called over to the crew, who, behind the sudden haze in Anthony's vision, were little blobs scurrying to and fro, some toward Ian, others running toward the house.
Anthony stumbled over. "What happened?" Erin glanced up at him. "Is he all right?" Her eyes widened at the way he was swaying on his feet.
"Don't you pass out too!" Erin snapped, voice tight with worry. "Go sit down." She waved toward the shade by the house.
"But, Ian," Anthony started. He swept his eyes over his friend, who was starting to stir. Ian's eyelids flickered, then opened as he started to wake up.
"Ow," He groaned, raising a hand up to clutch at his forehead. "Oh wow, my head hurts really bad."
"Like you hit it?" Erin asked sharply, then looked back up at Anthony. "Anthony. Go sit down."
Anthony took an involuntary step backward from the command in her tone alone, then kept backing up until his back hit the side of the house. Tears jumped to his eyes, and he knew in that moment he needed to get out of sight. He went inside the house, ignoring the way different members of the crew were reaching out to him, worry in their voices, and headed straight to the bathroom. Closing the door, he sank to the ground immediately, trying to breathe.
His breath was tight in his throat, like a great beast had a hold on his neck and was squeezing him. The sensation traveled down to his chest, causing him to gasp quick, shallow breaths as he tried to wipe away his tears.
Was Ian alright out there? His mind was spiraling as he desperately sucked in little gasps of air. He had just left him there, too wrapped up in his own frightened reaction to comfort his friend. A pang of guilt burned bright in his chest. He had to get this under control and he had to get back out there.
Anthony focused and started his yoga breathing routine that he used every time he exercised. Slowly, slowly, he controlled his breathing. He stood up shakily, and glanced in the mirror, making sure to wipe the tears from his eyes. There was nothing he could do about how pale he looked, or how red-rimmed his eyes were.
He took one more deep breath and pulled open the door to the bathroom. Walking out, he could hear many voices in the kitchen, which was out of sight. Sounded like most of the crew had taken shelter from the sun in there.
Anthony turned toward the living room and startled. Ian was sitting there, a wet rag on his head and Erin's big bright blue bottle of water clutched in his hands. Anthony felt his breath catch in his chest again.
Anthony walked over to him. "Hey, man. You feeling okay?"
Ian smiled guiltily up at him. "Well, better now," He glanced up at Anthony towering above him and patted the couch cushion next to him. Anthony sat. "I should have called a break sooner. I could tell it was getting to me."
"You don't need to push yourself that hard," Anthony said quietly.
"True," Ian's mouth quirked. "Plus the crew deserved a break too." Ian stared off in the direction of the kitchen for a moment. "Are you alright?" He asked quietly, fingers shifting on the pastel surface of the bottle.
Anthony grimaced. "Yeah, I'm good."
Ian turned to look at him, a sharp look in his eye. "Uh-huh."
Anthony intently examined the table in front of the couch. "You saw?"
Ian took a big gulp of water. "I may have just woken up from the consequences of my own hubris, but I, I caught a glimpse."
"Sorry," Anthony said quietly, "I really don't know what came over me."
Ian didn't say anything for a moment, just slurped another sip of water. Anthony couldn't look at him. Then, Anthony felt Ian's hand, cold from the surface of the bottle, rest on top of his own hand and squeeze slightly.
"Always good to know you care." Ian said lightly, the veneer of a joke over his words, but the slight drag of his thumb over the back of Anthony's hand emphasized his words.
Relief and affection rushed through him, and Anthony glanced at Ian. "Your head okay though?"
"When is my head ever okay?" Ian laughed, "But yeah, I didn't hit it. Water?" He lifted the bottle and offered it.
"God, yeah." Anthony took it with the hand that wasn't still covered by Ian's and took a long, refreshing drink. "I can't believe we still have to go back out in that to finish filming."
"Ugh, don't even remind me," Ian groaned.
Right then, Erin's voice called from the kitchen, "Alright, back out there to shoot in ten minutes!"
Various shouts of "Heard!" echoed around the house, accompanied by several grumbles.
"I gotta lay my poor heat-stricken head down for a few minutes before we head back out there," Ian said.
"Oh okay," Anthony said, preparing to get up to let him lay down, when Ian just tilted his head slightly to rest it on Anthony's shoulder. Anthony stilled, his breath catching for the nth time today.
"I'm gonna try to visualize myself in the Arctic," Ian mumbled, "Quiet on set."
Anthony tried to not shake his shoulders as he laughed. "Alright, alright. Make sure to get back from your polar expedition in ten."
Anthony let himself rest his eyes too, the warmth of Ian's hand and head soothing the last of his rattled nerves.
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What could’ve been
Pairing: Brennan Sorrengail x reader
Prompt: “Being around you physically hurts”
a/n Here's a little angsty story for you. Let me know if you guys would be interested in a part two. Also, I am accepting fourth wing requests.
warning: angst angst ANGST ! ! ! ! !
Fourth Wing Masterlist
Request
Having a crush on your best friend’s older brother is normal, right? That is what you told yourself growing up. You’ve been best friends with Mira since you were children, and you’ve had the world’s biggest crush on Brennan for just as long. She knew about your crush on her older brother and would switch between teasing you about it and being grossed out at the thought of her best friend and brother dating.
Your world came crashing down when you got the news that Brennan was killed during the battle with the rebellion. You spent years mourning his death and found yourself regretting not telling him about your feelings towards him. You often found yourself wishing you could see him one last time so you could at least confess your feelings.
So seeing him alive after assuming he was dead for six would bring you joy right? Nope. Not in the slightest. “Y/n, it’s good to see you again,” Brennan said your name with such ease it caused you to feel physically sick.
He could tell as well and started approaching you. “Don’t,” you held up your hand to stop him, “I-” but you left running before finishing your sentence.
Against his better judgment, Brennan followed after you. A part of him thought you would be happy to see him after so long. Then again, he also had to remind himself that you might be mad at him for lying about being dead for six years.
After a few minutes, Brennan finally found you sitting in an empty hallway. “Y/n,” Brennan called out and caused you to tense, “I know this is a lot to process, but please let me explain.”
Brennan took you into his office, where he proceeded to explain to you how he was still alive and why he didn’t return home after he healed. While you were still furious about him not informing you or his family that he was still alive, you understood.
By the end, you were still a crying mess, but you weren’t as angry with him as before. “I’m sorry, but missed you,” you cried into his chest.
“It’s ok,” Brennan reassured you before pulling you back and wiping away your tears. That’s when he decided to lean in and kiss you. His fingers disappeared into your hair and deepened the kiss.
You allowed yourself to enjoy the kiss you so desperately wanted growing up until you came to your senses and pulled away. “Why did you do that?” You whispered.
“Do what?” Brennan asked in a confused tone, his eyes looked at you concerned. He was going to lean in and kiss you again, but you moved your head to prevent him from trying again.
You felt like you were going to throw up while you processed everything that happened within such a small timeframe. Looking into his eyes, you could see he was concerned, “Why did you kiss me? Why now?”
Brennan remained silent for several minutes while he thought of a response, “I don’t know. I just thought that since you had a crush on me growing up-“
“Wait, you knew?” You looked at him stunned.
Brennan remained silent, realizing he fuck up. “Yes, I knew,” Brennan answered, “You weren’t subtle with your crush.”
Brennan thought that would bring a smile to your face, but all it did was make you more upset. “If you knew then, why didn’t you say anything? Why did you make me suffer by wondering if you liked me or not?”
“I was too old for you,” Brennan replied, even though he knew that was a lie. You and Mira were the same age, and Brennan was only three years older than her, “Plus, you’re Mira’s best friend. I couldn’t date her best friend.”
You couldn’t help but laugh at Brennan’s explanation, which caused Brennan to wince, “Yet you’re ok with kissing me now? Gods, I have to get out of here.”
“Don’t go,” Brennan begged as he tried to reach for you, but you just shook him off, “Please don’t go. I need you here. I need to know you’re safe.”
“I can’t. Being around you physically hurts right now. Of course, I'm not leaving Aretia, but I can’t be around you right now. Please don’t approach me until I’m ready.”
All Brennan could do was nod as he watched you leave his office. As soon as the door shut, he started shaking uncontrollably. Brennan didn’t even realize he was shaking until he felt Violet’s hands on top of his. He wanted to ask her how she managed to enter his office without him noticing, but all that came out was: “Do you think she’ll ever forgive me for not telling her that I knew she had a crush on me growing up?”
“I don’t know,” Violet answered honestly, “She really loved Bren. She kept telling us she regretted not telling you how she felt about you. It took her three years to recover, and even then, I feel like a part of her died with you that day.”
Brennan knew he needed to give you space to process everything that was going on. He hated himself for not confessing that he knew about your crush on him. What he hated the most was that he couldn’t tell you that he loved you as well because you would assume he was saying it out of pity. The only thing Brennan could do now was wait for you to come around.
#brennan sorrengail imagines#brennan sorrengail imagine#brennan sorrengail x reader#fourth wing imagine#fourth wing x reader
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Sorrow / All Titans x reader / (Headcanons)
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Your sad mood greatly affects the Titans. Let's see what they will do in such situations
Sorry for the English
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Godzilla
* I think he will cheer you up in every way. Starting from a gentle poke of the muzzle in the back and ending with swimming on the ocean in order to somehow develop your head, clouded from despondency.
* If you do ask to be alone while he is trying to calm you down, he will do it. Of course, the Titan will not take its eyes off you.
* In another situation, when you
want to share your problem, then Godzilla will listen to you carefully.
Although he doesn't really understand human problems and how big they are for you, he will still try to give you the best advice.
* Or you can make it simpler. Take a nap with him in the colosseum. In the event that helicopters infiltrate the lair, its tail will push them out of the way if a warning growl does not help.
Mothra/Mosura
* With this Moth, we can already consider that all problems are solved. It understands the magnitude of your burden, soothing you with a soft chirp that caresses your mind.
* Go to her for advice, as if to a psychologist. But you don't need any money or anything else for this.
Just give her a happy smile.
* Mothra, the whole personification of her own Mother. Do you want a hug? A kiss on the back of the head? Anything, sunshine.
The main thing is your joy at the moment.
Because it hurts her to watch your sad face, from which bitter tears are almost dripping.
* But if you need solitude and just to reflect on yourself, she will give it. Just don't draw harsh conclusions.
In any case, stay with her and share everything that disturbs your soul.
Rodan
* I don't think that you can somehow come to despondency with him. Joke after joke and all despairs are forgotten in an instant.
* You automatically develop laughter at the sight of him. Even if he does something normal for both of you, you still giggle quietly.
Rodan is too charismatic, that's all.
* But if you're really desperate, which even Rodan can't remove. There is already an emergency here. Titan panics and just doesn't know where to go. Since he is not too good at advice and in the end you have to calm him down, not you.
Which makes you really laugh.
* This Kaiju is not stupid enough to raise his problems above yours. He will remember the moments and words you said during his bad mood. How they supported and praised.
But there are great difficulties with the council.
* Rodan still wants to help you, despite his flaws, which he hides behind a wall of humor.
King Ghidorah
* First of all, who? And secondly, who to destroy? Such questions haunt you when these Three notice your depressed mood.
Ni intends to kill those offenders in the same way as Ichi, who can't see your sad face. These two do not seem to understand at all what to do, except for bloody murders.
If only Kevin purrs your side in his own way, trying to cheer you up.
* When they find out your reason for being sad, they are a little confused. Especially because there is no such person who has morally ruined you. It's just your problem that ruined your mood.
* But. These three are ready to listen to you at any time. And it doesn't matter if it's a big problem or a stupid one. Just cheer up with the cold breeze around Ichi's neck and fly to create storms over cities, spilling out emotions.
The rest will pass.
* Although they are cruel, they have interesting ways to send joy.
King Kong
* He knows how to support. Of course, he also does not understand half of it, but he gets away with saying something nice about you.
If it weren't for Jia...
Which also once, no, still supports him in certain situations.
* Kong can also pat you on the head, although it is more like ruffling your hair in different directions, from which you have to spit out.
But this is not bad, it lifts the mood.
* If you need to be alone, then good. He understands this and knows what it is like to want to be alone for a while. Just be careful.
* Kong is also good at advice to some extent. The main thing here is for you to understand what this Titan is trying to convey to you.
Shimo
* This girl already understands everything and accepts all your heavy burden. Your sad mood greatly disturbs this Titan, she just can't help but turn
* But sometimes you are ashamed to talk about your problems, given the situation in which your companion found herself. Moreover, she was able to survive it and walks around with a fresh memory about it.
* Her eyes are too charming... Especially the muzzle, which leans to the side in an interesting way. You just can't keep sharing your problems when you have such a miracle in front of you. All thoughts just float behind your back.
* Shimo gently nudges you to the side as a sign of support. Convincing that all problems will pass over time, the main thing is not to go down and not to lose self-control.
* If everything is really bad for you, then she will allocate a whole day and night for you. Share, complain. Whatever you want.
She will listen to you attentively, purring.
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#godzilla x kong the new empire#godzilla#godzilla x reader#Mothra x reader#Rodan x reader#King Ghidorah x reader#King kong x reader#Shimo x reader#Titans x reader#Xreader#Xhuman#monsterverse#godzilla monsterverse
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The entire scene with his grandpa is so cute, look how happy he is I'm melting
#i teared up a little thinking about how happy he was to see him again but he was the one who accidentally killed him :(#dragon ball#son goku#grandpa gohan#db posting
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btw rick and morty makes me insane bc no one Gets it people who don't wanna watch it (like me! before my brother made me watch it in exchange of him watching sk8 the infinity w me!) are like ugh problematique bad #edgy dark humor adult cartoon for reddit bros 🙄 but then the reddit bros who watch it & became the main representatives for its audience are like haha pickle rick wooo you need high iq I Relate To Rick Sanchez Deeply and he's like the joker to them and he's a king and an icon of alpha males somehow???? but like. neither of those people understand that rick and morty is actually about Nobody Exists On Purpose. Nobody Belongs Anywhere. Everybody's Gonna Die. Come Watch TV?
#like yea the universe is huge and there's so many versions of everything that everything becomes replaceable and therefore worthless#and you can find joy in that or not. you can find a way to be happy despite it all or not#yes the core is nihilism. but then like. why are we ignoring the opposite approaches to nihilism shown by the titular characters#people will talk too much abt rick and not enough abt morty if u ask me but whatever. let's talk abt rick#why will people forget that what makes our rick the ''rickest rick'' (arguable ????) is not that he's the Toughest Smartest Whatever rick#but that he's the most human rick ? like. the fact that he was attached to his humanity and to the worth he found within it is what#kickstarts the entire show. bc he tries quitting science. and when another rick offers him the portal gun so he can live out that#nihilistic reckless life we see he refuses it bc it sounds Lonely???????? which it IS#so then the other rick takes away what matters to our rick. and that's what makes him the Alpha Male Genius that the reddit bros like#not his toughness his brains his big dick or whatever. it was all about loooove baybayyy and revenge i do love revenge#it was his heart that made him into what we see in the show <3 and what we see in the show is a pathetic weak miserable old bastard#but the reddit bros aren't brave enough to accept it#but whatever. next time we will be talking abt how much he loves morty and how he hates it so much bc it makes him weak#(as evil rick points out when they're looking over rick's memories and he tears up when he sees morty. which kills me btw)#(so much so that when rick can take out everything he considers toxic from inside of him he gets rid of his love for morty too)#and yet he loves his little buddy sooooo much it's what fuels him now. kinda. lol#is he still shitty. does he fall back in his own shit a lot. does he keep treating morty like shit. yea#there's no buts. the statements coexist#yes he will drunk call jessica to cry abt missing morty. yes he will dump morty for two crows#and also he's in love w birdperson. next time too#oh nay
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So the Fell Xenologue... huh...
#alfred#alear#alfred x alear#alfred fe enagage#fe enagage#fe17#fell xenologue#the evil dragon brings back your dead previously corrupted and then put to rest friends#and they're corrupted by him (again) and they each thank you and joyfully welcome death when you kill them#oh boy nil you better run#because that right there is an alternate universe version of her best friend ( - or if you gave him the pact ring which I did - fiancé)#and he was in tears about how happy he was that he was killed and he was finally finally at rest#aaaa#this made me so upset#nil#nil my man#my sweet evil and confusing character of a man#you better run#because alear is now angry#Fire emblem spoilers
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:)
#LETSGOOO MOMOOOOOOOOOOOOO#luffy grabbing lightning bolts... nami youve got competition....#kaido saying roger and oden didnt have devil fruits and how you cant conquer the world with one... well they are also dead. rip bozos#NOOOO HIYORIIIIIII SOMEONE KILL THIS MAN!!!!#JESUS CHRIST THAT PUNCH!!! onigashima is on the way. move it. he is too used to zoro....#talking tag#watching one piece#episode 1074#the new opening is cute... wish the different scenes could be longer bc i have been sotpping to see them well akdhaks#can someone PLEASE help hiyori..... there are too many people just chilling DENJIRO!!!!!! FUCK YES!!!! but now pleaseeee finish him off...#omg the ballon ajdksjjs wish fullfilled!!!! YEAAHHH MOMOOOOOO#the samurais praying to luffy.... do i even need to make a post about luffy as a god now.... it's just like plain obvious and not bc of nik#episode 1075#kaido lore??? did he betray rocks pirates??? the fucking witch again??? how tf did she orchestrate all this.#she started how the value of someone is determined by war. which considering this is a shonen and strength is everything... i appreciate it#which might be why kaido is such a good antagonist to luffy. he wants people to live as slaves to make weapons and create wars#the strong ones get to be soldiers and act out that war. and kaido enjoys fighting also.... luffy on the other hand sees people for what#they are and the freedom they should have and he will beat kaido by not engaging in his style of fighting to be the strongest but by being#the silliest. literally. its just too good.#<- official analysis for now i guess#oh jesus..... LETSGOOO MOMOOOOOO omg luffy can see the wishes..... FUCK YEAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHH#luffy wishing for a world where his friends get to eat whatever they want.... oof..... tama.....#i have realised before the timeskip i cried bc situations were sad but ever since fishman island i have teared up bc of happiness....#like at the end of fishman island and now... wait except wci but that was a drama so one exception#episode 1076
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it’s 2 am and all i can think about is insaneduo
#💬 one new message#i just love them so much#they mean everythign to me#you can’t see it but there are tears in my eyes#like look at them they’re so - gestures vaguely -#i’m fr always thinking about that one post which said forever and cellbit are two sides of the same coin#thinking about how despite everythign they trust each other the most out of everyine on the island#like even after everythign ghry went through in the divorce/betryal arc and now with the happy pills shit#like they both refuse to give up on each other and it makes me emotional#i’m quite insane so they way i think about them sort of is like how i think of desertduo in third life does anyone else see my vision#like “i trust you entirely i wouldn’t care if yiu killed me because it’s you and i love you”#“even if you betray me i couldn’t bring myself to hate you because i love you and i care about you and i know you inside and out”#like i have a very specific vision of them does anyone get it or am i just crazy and need to go to bed#- lays down face first on the floor - qinsaneduo is so good i hate them i hope they leave and never come back#you can tear them out of my cold dead hands i refuse to give them up#brain spinning around in circles thinking about qcellbit tearing up after pac and forever were given the antidote and just not getting a se#of rest. he only rested when he knew they were both safe. he brought oac home and then went to the ordo and stayed by forever side the enti#night. he didn’t even sleep he just watched his chest ride and fall reassuring himself that forever woudl be okay and they he was alive and#he would be back soon he just had to wait a little longer. maybe that’s when he finally cried just let himself feel and finally let it out#orrrgh#okay i’m done i m done rambling in tags i’m going to bed
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These Mikey chapters lowkey getting to me..
#like why does it have to be so sad#but before that Omg the opening scene with Emma and Draken was so pure and cute#Emma I completely understand why you fell for draken he was literally perfect#because no really he was PERFECT - he grew up in less than favorable circumstances yet he never complained and had good manners and morals#even from a young age like if it wasn’t for him Mikey would’ve fallen into darkness sooner and had no morals#mitsuya would’ve been a shitty brother and hakkai would’ve never found the person to look up to AND taiju would’ve continued being an#abusive asshole - Draken had a ripple effect on the whole gang and I fucking HATE tht he was killed off#like again WHY I WILL NEVER BE HAPPY OR OK WITH HIM DYING#MY FUCKING FAVORITE UGH#but ugh fucking continuing on 😫 did y’all see how wakui is reinforcing how much he hates Sanzu? 💀#he made it a point to have Mikey list Draken mitsuya pah Baji and kazutora as his greatest friends#and have him recruit them for Toman despite Sanzu being one of his childhood ‘friends’ AND him having him talk to him about it last chapter#why not have him in the original gang? 🤔 also the fact tht he will call mitsuya and kazutora his greatest friends but not Sanzu when he only#knew those two through Draken and Baji 🤷🏾♀️#anyway I’m glad we got some clarity as to why Mikey was out at night at Shinichiro’s bike shop when he got killed like how convenient but#knowing shinichiro called him to come there so he could give him his present at midnight (I’m assuming) is fucking heartbreaking like tht#lowkey made me tear up along with the reactions of Emma Mikey and the grandfather#it’s nice to see the grandfather actually emotional since we didn’t see it up until now and it seemed like he was just there tbh so yeah#i feel so bad for Emma tho like God she was abandoned by her mom never met her dad developed a relationship with her siblings mom just for#her to die then have her older brother die AND then for her to die so young?? it’s just so fucking tragic she never got a break#and knowing she still tried to be a rock for Mikey and her grandfather (I’m assuming) by taking care of them makes me so incredibly sad#but I was hoping this backstory would help me understand Mikey’s actions more but it didn’t#why did he forgive Baji??? just bc he said he was sorry?? he was still an accomplice and then proceeded to defend kazutora despite kazutora#talking shit to Mikey about how it was his fault he killed his brother???#why did he have such an attachment to Baji and why did forgive kazutora??#i get Baji sacrificed himself so they wouldn’t fight but how would tht be enough to negate all his negative feelings towards kazutora over#his brother death? i don’t get it#but anyway I’m glad next chapter we’re finally gonna get Mikey’s actual thoughts on Takemichi#i know he’s shared his thoughts at times but I wanna hear how he subconsciously feels and I especially wanna know how he felt about Kisaki#Tokyo revengers 264
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柄本 佑 || 「光る君へ」 (2024) · 第十五回 「おごれる者たち」
#柄本佑#tasuku emoto#光る君へ#hikaru kimi e#1x15#made by me#fujiwara no michinaga#藤原道長#I know he's up to SOMETHING but the first scene is really fucking moving#the way he told michikane there's no need to be the fall guy anymore😭😭😭the soft 'aniue. I want you to be happy'. how I screamed.#and when he said that father's not with them anymore his eyes seem tearing up a little...just kill me pls#he swallowed and his adam's apple rolling..ughhhhh#also the last one he stared at sadaijin-sama's hand for a beat#I wonder if he ever thought about how he didn't get to do this with Kaneie😔#bc kaneie is that kind of fucking domineering guy who valued vanity & dignity too much to die as an ordinary man#the archery scene is A++#and I feel like he's sort of back to being Saburo after that scene like. saying it was childish to beef with his nephew#this is such a Saburo thing to say. something harmless and self-mocking. sometimes white lies#but dude you're dark as fuck. the last shot w the 'I'm gonna be Kanpaku' statement? scare the shit out of me#I'm gLAD michitaka stopped him😱#anyway they're just two dark souls atp#michikane wants to kill his older brother and michinaga's gonna keep him on a leash and let him be the fall guy like kaneie told him to#man...dairi is so fucked up. hardest place to survive#I get that it's the same with the forbidden city in my culture but still. this is way too dark#p.s. the 9th one's funny to me bc Tasuku-san's knuckles...like those are boxing knuckles! so out of time & place😂#(kaneie's out there somewhere in the stars and I still can't stop talking about him lol. I miss him :( )#(do I even believe that he's up not down? maybe. he did become a monk b4 he died.)#I've no problem with heavy power intrigue plots tho I've seen Tasuku implying his scenes lately were all about power struggles in dairi#I mean I do care about the mahiro storyline but the godfather -ish shit is just better
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