#god Mio has really Been Through It....

[imthebadguyyy]

Miss Americana and the Heartbreak Prince II

pairing : charles leclerc x reader

fandom : f1

synopsis : you're the only female driver on the f1 grid, and have a secret relationship with ferrari's golden boy.

warnings : allusions to smut, smut

a/n : much awaited part 2!! apologies for taking so long life has been extremely busy lately

pt i

"don't say a word" charles mumbled to you, gently getting up.

god, you were so fucked.

you didn't dare say a word as charles wordlessly got up to find the pair of shoes carlos had so unfortunately left behind in his room. "why did he leave them here" charles whispered harshly, while gesturing to the large closet he had in his driver's room.

quiet as a cat you slipped into it, leaving it a crack open for ventilation. you watched from the gap as charles quickly ran a hand through his tousled hair, lips still red and swollen and eyes still blown wide from the orgasm he had a few moments again.

"just a second!" he called to his teammate, struggling to jump into his jeans and searching for his shirt before he realised where it was : on your body.

cursing under his breath, he inhaled deeply, before striding over to open the door for carlos.

"my god man, you took forever to open the door huh" carlos grumbled, sauntering his way into the room before charles could slam the door shut.

praying to the heavens, charles sneaked a jittery glance towards the closet, praying carlos didn't wander too close.

"ah yes! my lucky sneakers!" carlos exclaimed like a child on Christmas day, spotting the pristine white sneakers in the corner of the room.

"how did you leave them here?" Charles asked, hand reaching up to scratch his neck nervously.

"oh remember when we were all warming up before media day because we felt stiff? i left my shoes here and changed into my loafers" he said matter of factly, changing said loafers for his sneakers.

a flash of orange had him stopping mid way, staring blankly at the papaya shirt that lay just hidden below charles' physio table.

"mate, either you're a secret McLaren fan or.." carlos began, wide eyes wandering over to charles who had turned as red as the ferrari car he drove.

"WHAT no-thats not mine!!" he exclaimed.

groaning softly, you smacked your palm against your forehead, realising how much worse he sounded if he said it wasn't his.

"so you're- YOURE SLEEPING WITH LANDO?!" carlos exclaimed and charles let out a groan of despair.

"THATS WHO YOU THINK HES SLEEPING WITH?!" your stupefied voice rang out from the closet, earning a flurry of curse words from the spaniard.

"y/n?!?!" he exclaimed, watching as you stomped out in just a ferrari shirt, batelt covering your thighs,screaming in surprise as he covered his eyes and turned to the wall.

"PUT ON SOME CLOTHES I DON'T NEED TO SEE YOU LIKE THIS!" carlos shouted, as charles ran to cover up your body, tossing you your jeans to change into.

"you thought I was sleeping with lando?" charles hissed, sheer stress and surprise in his eyes.

"no i- i wasn't thinking okay I saw orange and i thought lando!" carlos defended himself, choosing to ignore the contemptuous snort you let out.

when you were all decent he turned again sinking into a chair to massage his temples, repeatedly muttering "dios mio" under his breath and looking between the two of you.

your hands were interlocked now, thumbs gently twiddling together, and he watched as charles reached for your palms, running a soothing thumb over your knuckles and holding your hand tightly within his. he noticed how charles' gaze softened and the gentility with which he stroked your hand, nothing but love and adoration in his eyes.

"so how long has this been going on?" carlos asked calmly, trying to ignore the mix of excitement and amusement in his chest at the sight of his best friend and the woman he considered to be his little sister anxiously awaiting his take like a teenage couple who got caught.

"um...abu dhabi last year? i got really drunk and so did charles and we just sort of stumbled into my hotel room and-" you began only to be cut off by a loud "tut-tut-tut-tut" from carlos who closed his eyes.

"i don't need details, hermana, just...okay" he sighed, standing up.

"carlos, please don't tell anyone" charles whispered tugging you closer. "Its hard enough for her to be accepted anyway and if people find our we're together, you know what the media is going to spin it into. we're just not ready yet" he concluded softly, feeling you cuddle into him, apprehension evident in your eyes.

"ay, of course I would not do that. you can trust me. I'm happy that youre happy with each other, you are aren't you?" he questioned suddenly, eyes hardening as he looked at charles.

"yes yes, im very happy carlos" you said quickly, knowing he was protective of you.

"charles makes me happier than i thought I could be" you mumbled, cheeks warming as you spoke, and charles pressed a kiss to your temple. "And she makes me happier than I ever thought i could be" he affirmed.

"well then, I'm even happier for you two. you deserve to be happy, and I'm glad it's her you're seeing and not lando" he concluded matter of factly, and you couldn't help but snort with laughter.

"thanks mate" charles chuckled dryly.

"okay I'm gonna leave but please charles, do something about your sex hair, you look like a wild hyena just tried to rip your hair off" he grumbled as you grinned proudly.

"well i suppose we do fu-" charles began cheekily as carlos yelled in protest and covered his ears, shaking his head from side to like a dog trying to get water out of his ears.

"no necesito saber detalles sobre el relacions intimas, ella es como mi hermana menor, ¿verdad?!" no I don't need to know the details about the sex she's like my younger sister!! carlos exclaimed as he sprinted out of the room.

taking a deep breath, your eyes met charles, and in a split second, you both burst into laughter, clutching onto each other to keep steady as you laughed.

"well, that was something" you chuckled, sitting back down on the physio table.

"it really was, non?" he said, joining you, pressing a kiss to your neck.

"i have to go back to McLaren now baby" you whispered, gently stroking the rough stubble on his cheek.

"i know" he mumbled against the skin of your neck. "ill see you at the gdpa meeting okay?" you whispered, pressing him a kiss goodbye as you reached for the McLaren shirt to swap for the scandalous ferrari one you were wearing.

with sweet kisses of goodbye,you dashed off towards the McLaren hospitality.

Jogging back hurriedly, you shielded your eyes from the blaring Barcelona sun, praying that you wouldn’t get in trouble from charlotte.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

silverstone as a track was simply iconic.

as many had famously said, everyone wanted a chance to step on the podium there, the birthplace of formula one.

because of lando, McLaren always had a tiny bit of extra pressure on them during the British gp, and this year was no different.

Britain brought with it grey skies, heavy rainclouds and smatterings of rain through free practice and qualis. the track was wet, the skies were gloomy, and boomrd with thunder but the energy around the track was electric. (no pun intended)

the fans at silverstone always brought their all and the weather was never a let down for them. as you stood in the garage, waiting for the skies to clear up a little, you glanced at the crowd, cheering and whooping for lewis, lando and george, and were surprised to see the many posters of your face, cheering you on.

waving at the fans with a quick smile, you turned back to the screen, brow furrowing as you watched the forecast predict even heavier rainfall for quali.

before you knew it, you were in q3, hot on max's trail for a pole position. your race engineer, elizabeth, urged you to speed up, tyres well maintained and checo 4.5 behind.

and so you pushed, putting in purple sector after sector, and when it came to it, beat max by one hundredth.

a shout of delight left your lips as you entered parc ferme, parking your car in the no1 spot and preparing for your pole tyre and interview. max offered you a tight lipped smile, making a quip about "i was on a pole streak!" to which you responded cheekily, "well looks like i took the fast lane to your frustration!"

after quali, you were drawn into meetings, last minute checks, interviews until finally, you relaxed in the hospitality with lando, sneakers off and feet resting on a puffy pouffe, a bowl of salad and an iced latte next to you.

lando had something similar, a burrito bowl and an orange juice, scrolling through his Instragram while you covered your eyes and hummed a song.

"darl, are you dating anyone?" he asked casually, crossing one ankle over the other as he spoke.

"no, why?" you asked, brow furrowing slightly as you lied through your teeth.

lando went an odd shade of splotchy red as he looked at you, taking in the curve of your cupids bow above your lip, furrowed in confusion, to the purse of your lips.

"w-well, i've got a mate yeah, and he'd really like to ask you out, but he doesn't know how to quite...do that y'know?" he stumbled out, hands scratching the back of his neck as he spoke.

"oh!" you said, shoulders relaxing as you smiled.

"im not really looking to date someone right now lan, please tell him that and give him a hug from me okay?" you said kindly, squeezing his knees before jumping off the couch to head home.

"I'll see ya tomorrow lan!" you said, waving goodbye and picking up your food as you left.

walking towards your car, you felt your phone buzz in your pocket, and pulling it out, you saw charles notification.

(ferrari's) amore ♥️

amour, are you done with all your meetings?

y/n

yes darling, im just heading out to my car.

(ferrari's) amore ♥️

come to my room when youre back. i miss you :(

y/n

I'll be right there mon bebe, i miss you too 😙

you couldn't help but giggle at his messages, climbing into your car before making your way to the hotel.

as soon as you reached and managed to make your way past the gaggle of fans, you made your way to charles' room, cap covering your face as you moved stealthily through the hall.

reaching his door, you knocked softly, foot tapping against the carpeted floor, listening for the click of the door lock.

and lo and behold, there stood your italian god of a boyfriend, clad in just a pair of turquoise shorts and a bandana holding his curly locks back from his face, a stray strand peaking out almost cheekily.

"hello you" you smiled, squealing when he grabbed your plush hips and pulled you into him, arms tightening around your shoulders as he kissed your forehead, closing the door behind the both of you.

he walked backwards, guiding you into his dimly lit suite, pulling your jacket off of you and letting it drop onto the couch.

"missed you amour" he crooned softly, pecking your temple as he pulled the both of you into the large bed, laden with pillows and thick snowy white blankets, letting your body sink into the mattress.

"missed you too baby" you murmured.

"how was your day?" he asked, sliding down your body to tug your sneakers off, pressing a delicate kiss to your ankle as he pulled the socks off too, before trailing up to the McLaren t shirt you had on, signalling for you to raise your arms so he could tug it off your body, pressing feather soft kisses to your belly, chest, arms, shoulders and finally your cheeks.

"t'was alright i guess, quali was really great!" you gushed, fingers carding through his hair as a dimpled smile graced his cheeks.

"m'so proud baby" he said, kissing an erratic pattern on the bare expanse of your belly. "love you" you gushed again, tone utterly lovestruck, words coming out thick and syrupy.

charles gave you an equally lovestruck look, an ooey gooey warm sensation filling his chest.

"lemme show you how proud I am of you bebè" he whispered, pressing hot, open mouthed kisses to your neck, body twisting above yours to curve into you.

charles' mouth was diligent on your neck, his lips parted and wet as he worked way up from a particularly sensitive spot on your neck up to the back of your ears, smothering you with hot, open mouthed kisses that had you squirming underneath him. your whole body felt like it was being slowly swallowed by a burning flame, lighting up sharply when when his tongue swept over your skin, followed quickly by a not-so-gentle scraping of his teeth.

you gasped, fingers curling tighter into the thick locks, not caring about how hard you were tugging the luscious strands, legs parting when he let out a soft growl against your skin, the sound reverberating in his chest.

"baby.." you whispered, as his hands slipped to unbutton your jeans, slowly tugging the material down your thighs, hands massaging the fat of your hips and thighs, pinching softly before soothing it with a velveteen caress.

"hush mon amour, let me take care of you" he murmured, mouth hot as it disappeared lower until he was cocooned in between your thighs.

his sea green eyes locked onto yours, as his mouth lowered onto your panties, a wet spot spreading like spilled ink on delicate paper, that had him salivating like a dog.

you closed your eyes, pleasure taking over every nerve in your body when he pressed a kiss to the drenched fabric.

what a night you were in for.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

you wake up early, the sun is just rising above the horizon, casting an almost pastel glow in the room from the wide windows. you're supposed to reach the track in an hour, so you have to leave in about 30 minutes. charles however, the lucky bastard, gets to sleep in. he isn't due at the track till almost two hours after you.

grumbling, you stepped out of bed, searching for the sleep shorts charles had kept on the couch for you to slip into in the morning, mourning the loss of his warmth as you get ready in the bathroom, taking out your toothbrush, a hairbrush, your skincare, your makeup, peeking through the half-open door to see him fast asleep in bed, bare arm stretched out over your empty side, quite snores leaving his mouth, a soft pout on his lips. you took in the red marks littering his chest, now fading to a subtler maroon, and the indents of your fingerprints on his back, heat rising to your cheeks in soft pinpricks.

the sight leaves a dull ache blooming in your belly, a need to just go and cuddle with his forever filling every bone in your body. with a sigh, you turn back to the mirror, somehow managing to get through your makeup and your hair before you allow yourself to look at charles again

with a furrowed brow, you note that he’s not in bed anymore.

you almost jumped out of your skin when you notice him standing in the doorway of the bathroom, clad in literally nothing.

charles didn’t say anything, only getting his arms around you in a warm, soft hug,one arm circling around your back to hold your waist, the other bent over the top of your back to cup your head in his hand.

his feet shuffled into the bathroom, head dropping onto the dip in your shoulders, arms wrapped tight around your midriff. his hands splayed on your belly, and he pressed a delicate kiss to the back of your neck. "go back to bed honey" you said, squeezing his hand and smiling at his sleepy face in the mirror.

"mmmhm" was all you got in response, the warmth from his body enveloping you in a snug embrace.

"why do you have to go so early?" he groaned, head nuzzling into you like a cat. chuckling softly, you swipe a berry lipgloss over your lips, adjusting the white floral sundress you had opted for, carrying your team kit in a bag.

"cuz we're shit babe. and if I want to win this race, we need to get some work done off track before we start actual racing" you said, petting him on the head like a kitten.

"ill see you soon then coucou" he said, pressing a kiss to your head before collapsing back into bed.

shaking your head you laughed quietly, slipping out of the room and heading to find gemma, your trainer bringing you a bowl of chocolate oats and dragonfruit and berries to munch on.

"busy night?" she smirked and you stuck your tongue out at her.

"let's just go" you said, pecking her cheek as thanks for the food.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

the track was buzzing with the usual hustle bustle, and charles was making his way towards parc ferme to get ready for drivers parade, which was going to be a vintage car display for each team. he caught sight of you, standing with lance and esteban, chatting animatedly about something.

he was standing with max, lando, carlos, checo, george and alex, all happily discussing their plans for the summer break.

he felt a blush rise to his cheeks as he watched you greet lewis with a hug and then laugh as he showed you something on his phone.

he felt his heart flutter when you bit your lip to conceal a grin when toto and christian glared at each other like schoolchildren.

he felt his breath hitch when you twirled a strand of hair around your fingers, exposing the bare skin of your neck where, if he squinted hard enough, he could make out the pale remains of the hickeys he had sucked into the skin.

"you alright mate? max asked, watching the way charles had turned a splotchy red.

"yeah I'm fine" he said, offering him a weak grin.

"you sure?" lando joked, grinning widely at him.

"who are you looking at?" max enquired, peering over charles shoulder to analyse who he was looking at.

"was it maria?" checo asked, referring to one of ferrari's press officer who had stunning red hair and beautiful emerald eyes.

"no no" charles said, shutting the idea down quickly, silently turning to carlos for help.

"leave him alone guys, he was probably just drooling over the track" carlos said, nudging max with his foot.

"yeah, right. don't think we haven't noticed how dreamy you've been recently" lando teased, while carlos and alex offered charles sympathetic smiles.

"it's nothing" he said, voice almost clipped.

"okay, let's leave him alone" alex said, clapping him on the back.

he watched as you skipped over, hair bouncing as you did. "hello!" you greeted chirpily, settling into a spot beside alex and carlos.

a chorus of hellos and grins greeted you. "what's going on?" you asked, cocking your head to one side.

"charles has a crush" lando teased again.

"oh is it?" you asked, concealing a smirk as you locked eyes with the man, eyes glimmering with mischief.

"yes it is!" george said, grinning widely.

"who is it?" you asked innocently, batting your eyelashes at him, watching the crease form in his eyebrow.

"no one" he said, hands slipping into his pockets while carlos sent you an exasperated look.

"oh c'mon tell us something about her" you giggled, hand tracing up to linger on the spot where he had left a bite, bringing a blush to his cheeks.

he watched the teasing glint in your eyes and with new resolve, relaxed.

"well," he began, eyes locked directly onto yours. "shes the most exquisite woman I've ever had the pleasure of knowing" he said, eyes boring into yours.

the chorus of 'oohs' around you didn't register, as you listened intently, heart hammering in your chest.

"she's insanely beautiful, but also has a heart of gold. shes kind, caring, smart, talented and extremely passionate" he continued, listing the qualities on his fingers, ignoring the smirks from his friends, focusing only on the widening of your eyes, and the way your hands fiddled with your rings.

"she's sassy, and isn't afraid to speak her mind. shes always thinking about others and is an angel on earth. she's as beautiful as a setting sun casting shadows on a deep ocean, as beautiful as victory, silent and strong, as beautiful as a graceful ballet, as beautiful as laughter ringing clear in the mountains" he continued, noting the way your eyes has become overbright, while also noting carlos' gaze on him.

"wow mate, you're down bad" alex commented, smiling at his friend, while max and lando sported identical grins. "yeah, never heard you be so poetic before" george commented, before turning to you. "isn't that right speedy?" he asked, waiting for your response.

clearing your throat softly, you nodded. "yeah, she's one lucky gal isn't she" you said, a wide smile on your face.

"time to go!" came a shout, startling you out of your little lovedaze.

"be right there!" lando shouted back, grabbing your arm, but you stopped him, murmuring a soft "I'll be right there" as you bid everyone a goodbye. one by one they all trickled out, carlos squeezing your shoulder kindly.

you gave charles a quick hug, tensing slightly when he pressed a quick kiss to your head away from the prying cameras.

"I love you" he whispered so quietly you almost missed it, and you repeated it, before giving him another lovestruck grin, before sprinting off to join lando.

charles stood there for a second, the same ooey gooey warm sensation filling his chest, before he was snapped back to reality by sylvia calling his name and he too sprinted back.

as you and lando followed redbull, mercedes, and ferrari, he turned to fix his gaze upon you.

"charles seems really in love doesn't he?" he asked, eyes fixated on you to gauge your reaction.

"he really does" you said, concealing a smile.

"how do you feel about that?" he asked, a strange abruptness in his tone.

"what do ya mean lan?" you asked, eyebrow quirking.

"I mean, you had a massive crush on him back when we were younger" he said, and you gaped at him, rendered momentarily speechless.

"um.." you trailed off, turning away from his burning gaze to wave at the crowds with a fake smile. "it doesn't bother me" you said finally, not really lying because how could you be bothered.

"are you sure?" he asked again, an odd tenseness to his voice. "yes I'm sure" you said firmly. "it's just..." he trailed off, unable to vocalise this thoughts.

"what, lan?" you asked, still waving at the crowds, putting up a peace sign for the crowds.

"you've seemed a little off lately...even when I brought up the thing about you dating a friend of mine, you kind of clammed up and i got the feeling that.." "got the feeling that?" you questioned, unease bubbling in your chest.

"that maybe there was a 5.4% chance that you were the girl charles was into" he finished and you almost fell off the seat of your car.

"w-what?" you laughed nervously, tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear. landos gaze didn't falter.

"look, I'm not stupid. I see the way he looks at you sometimes. and I see the way you look at him. but if you're not the girl he's dating, i want you to not be hurt because you're one of my best friends" he said, giving your hand a quick squeeze.

you felt a blossom of affection for your friend bloom in your chest. taking a deep breath, you made a hasty decision.

"lando, what I'm going to tell you is an absolutely top level secret and if you tell anyone I will chop your dick off and feed it to a duck" you said solemnly, ignoring the high pitched chuckle that left his mouth.

"okay i pinky swear" he said, sticking out his pinky towards you. you interlocked yours with his briefly, before taking a deep breath.

"I am charles new girlfriend" you admitted softly, eyes fixed on the ground in apprehension. you almost had a heart attack when he whooped so loudly, you were about a 100% sure that the cars in front of you and behind you would've heard you.

"shush!" you scolded, head whipping back and forth to see if anyone heard. "I fucking knew it! i absolutely knew it, the way he looks at you and the lovestruck puppy face he makes my god i KNEW it" he laughed gleefully, shaking you by the shoulders.

"okay shut up lando but please don't tell anyone" you begged, trying to hide the grin on your face.

"I promised i won't. but I have so many questions!!" he said excitedly, squeezing your hand. you laughed, glancing over to the front where charles was waving happily at the crowds.

"how about you meet us for dinner tonight, and I'll tell you more about it then?" you said, and he nodded excitedly. "we can call carlos too" you said, "since he knows about us as well".

lando let out a dramatic gasp, hand pressed over his chest. "CARLOS KNEW BEFORE ME?!?!" he said, eyes widening almost conically.

"by accident you dipshit, he walked in on us..um...well, actually! funny story, he actually thought it was you charles was sleeping with" you said with a cheeky smile, rolling your eyes with no real malice when he pretended to gag and throw up.

"why?!?!" "because he saw a McLaren t shirt on the floor" you admitted. lando pretended to gag again. "please spare me the details of your sex life" he groaned, hand still pressed to his chest.

"oh really, cuz I was just going to go into details about how good he fuck-" you began cheekily and he squealed and slammed his hand over your mouth (gently)

you let out a cackle, giving him a friendly hug, before turning your full attention to the stands.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

the race was tough, rain showering down halfway, making the track slippery and grip a challenge, but somehow, you fought and maintained your position.

there was a tense moment when max had overtaken you rather roughly, making you drop to p3 with a 3 second gap between you, and perez and a 5 second gap to you and max. however, with some spectacular over taking and flawless defending, you had soared to victory, with max in p2, and to your surprise, carlos in p3.

the podium had been a blast, with carlos pouring champagne down your entire body and hair, and lifting you up to hoist you on the top of his shoulders.

it had made for a lovely picture of you laughing, champagne bottle in hand, and a smiling carlos pointing up to you, while andreas 'bowed' down to you.

mclaren mechanics and engineers and staff had cheered for you, with charles and lando watching proudly and clapping for the both of you.

lando had given charles a nudge, before whispering a soft "she told me buddy" and giving him a tight one armed hug and whispering, "dont you fucking hurt her Leclerc or like your girlfriend said, I'll chop your dick off and feed it to a duck" making him laugh in alarm, before smiling softly at him.

dripping in a mix of sweat and champagne, you walked off into the McLaren hospitality, hugging everyone around you, before going straight into your driver's room to change.

a quick shower and a change of clothes later you felt fresh and giddy with excitement, so when lando sent a text in your shared group, saying "club inferno to get absolutely hammered on me, half an hour, look sexy y'all" you had laughed and made your way to your hotel to get dressed.

you hadnt been able to contact charles or heard from him after the podium but decided that you'd just meet him at the club, so you changed into a particularly rivetingly sexy little dress you had bought especially for a moment like this, a strappy little number that hugged every curve and fold on your body.

you paired it with your favourite YSL libre perfume, painting your lips in a dior rouge lipstick charles had gifted her, swiping a glittery lip gloss on top, adding seductive black eyeliner and mascara, a rosy blush and a glittery highlight, and darkened your eyes with kohl.

you slipped on a pair of black rhinestone heels, with little diamond bows on them that just looked absolutely phenomenal on you.

with a sigh of satisfaction, you sent a quick text to gemma, telling her you were ready to be picked up so the both of you could get absolutely wrecked on lando's tab.

she was not complaining.

the dark club was pulsating with heavy beats, bodies swayed in harmony with sultry beats on the dance floor, bathed in hues of electric blue and crimson. the air buzzed with the intoxicating blend of thumping music, the intoxicated giggles of every individual in the club, the mingling scents of tequila, fruity cocktails, earthy whiskeys, bitter beers.

gemma whooped as you walked in, the energy palpable in her body as she flailed her arms wildly with the music.

"im gonna go order some shots!" you shouted, rushing to the bar immediately. you were intercepted by a very drunk Pierre, who congratulated you with a hug and promise to buy you shots.

you were further intercepted by carlos, who, despite looking ready to pass out still had impeccable hair and was about the down another shot of tequila.

"shots on me hermosa!" he said, passing you a shot of tequila and a lemon with salt.

in your excitement, you missed charles, clad in a black shirt and white linen pants, watching you giggle and reach for the lemon. he watched as you put the salt on the back of your wrist, licking it up, tongue sweeping along the skin, and then dousing the shot of tequila, exposing the skin of your neck, and drowning the shot, only to flick back into position and suck on the lime.

he licked his lips, feeling the groin region of his pants become uncomfortably tight.

he made his way over to you, the thumping beat of travis scott's fein filling his eardrums. he watched as you leaned over to the barman, breasts pushing up against your dress, ordering shots, pushing your hair back over your shoulder. he walked with cemented purpose, as the beat changed, turning more sultry.

you were leaning over the bar when a familiar scent of dior sauvage filled your nostrils, and a strong pair of arms wrapped around your midriff.

"baby!" you squealed, leaping into his arms, lips pressing messily against his, momentarily forgetting about the secrecy of your relationship. charles savoured it, tilting your chin to kiss you deeper, counting on the barely there lighting to hide the two of you.

you downed another shot with him, pulling him towards the dance floor before stepping back softly. you pushed your hair away from your chest so it fell down your back, hips swaying as the seductive beat of vixen by miguel filled the club, the rnb vocals adding depth to the sensual rhythm your body was following, hands running up and down your body as you swayed your hips in a pulsating rhythm, bending at the knees as you sunk to the floor, wining your hips as the chorus came on.

charles ignored the fact that literally anyone could see you right there, as he stepped towards you, hands on your hips as he pulled you flush against his body, hips grinding rhythmically with your own.

you let out a soft moan,turning so your back was pressed against his crotch. you let your head drop to his shoulder, bum pressing against his crotch and wining softly against him, feeling his breath hitch.

"fuck, mon amour, you're making it hard for me to not fuck you right here right now" he groaned.

"you know as much as I like dancing and clubbing" you murmured, fingers dancing across his thighs, "I think id much rather prefer to celebrate at home with my baby" you continued, letting your teeth sink into your plush bottom lip.

"thats it" he growled, hand grabbing yours and tugging you along, making his way into the park to his car.

"im gonna fuck you like the winner you are" he whispered, kissing the shell of your ear.

your hotel room was on the 16th floor, and as the two of you made your way into the elevator, he eyed you up and down, eyes lingering on the curve of your breasts.

the moment the door shut, he pushed you against the wall, capturing your lips in a steamy kiss you'd be remembering the next day. his hands moved to your ass, squeezing hard, eliciting a moan from your lips. the moment your lips parted, he was pushing his tongue into yours, his other hand coming up to pull on your hair roughly, relishing in the gasp that left your lips. as suddenly as he started, he stopped, pulling back and standing almost nonchalantly against the wall.

you stumbled forward on weak legs, trying to wrap your head around what happened, gripping the wall with whatever remaining resolve you had in your body.

you could feel your wetness dripping, threatening to run down your thighs, as the throbbing became even more painfully exciting. you looked down at the floor, eyes closing as your frustration grew more and more by the second.

finally, with a little 'ding', the elevator stopped at the 16th floor. the moment the door opened you stepped out on wobbly legs, trying your best to walk properly.

but of course, that wasn't going to happen. as you turned one long corridor, charles grabbed your waist, pushing you up against the wall, to reach down and suck on your neck. you let out a gasp, head falling back against the door, and let your pussy rub against his hardening cock, but charles retaliated with a slap to your ass, smirking when a high pitched moan left your lips.

he let the door swing open, carrying you inside, letting you drop down, and kick off your heels, chest heaving. he made his way towards you, unbuttoning his shirt and letting it fall to the floor.

"such a fucking sexy drive, the way you defended and fought like a beast on track" he said, stalking towards you, hands dropping to the straps of your dress, tugging it downwards. "ma belle fille" he murmured, lips trailing hot kisses to your neck and sucking dark hickies on it. his tongue swept out, licking repeatedly over the sensitive spot, sucking and nibbling on the sensitive skin, teeth nipping and leaving dark marks.

he pressed open mouthed kisses that seemed scorching, while his hands dropped lower, peeling the satiny material off of your body, groaning when it peeled off to reveal your breasts, heaving with tension and arousal, nipples hardening as the cold air touched them.

"were gonna do something special baby" he said, sucking the skin of your neck in between his teeth, before pulling away with a smacking sound.

he walked backwards towards where there was a bottle of dom perigon in ice, popping the cork, letting it fizz down. he walked over to you, taking a dull sip of the liquid.

he motioned to the bed, and you followed silently, laying down, resting on your forearms.

he walked over to you, hands slipping to your tits, tugging on your nipples and running his thumb over them. he watched your breath hitch and your body quake as he played with your nipples, other hand reaching up to grab your cheeks and force your mouth open.

he kissed you harshly, lips closed to keep the champagne in, before his thumb and forefinger dug into your cheeks, forcing your mouth open.

you shuddered as he leaned over, breath fanning over your face as he let the golden liquid pour from his mouth into yours, warm and delicious as it overflowed from your mouth, dribbling down your chin.

you gasped as you swallowed the burning in your throat.

he pushed you gently, body laying against the linen. he pressed another searing kiss to your lips, biting at the plush bottom lip, sucking it in between his own.

he kissed you harder, yanking the rest of your dress off of your body, dropping it to the floor.

he leaned down, sucking hickeys onto every bare expanse of your chest, sucking dark marks, teeth nipping, breathing harshly, tongue licking over the expanse of skin.

he trailed lower, mouthing over your breasts, sucking on the nipple of one while his fingers toyed with the other, tongue flicking harshly and sucking harshly, feeling you arch into him. his tongue flicked wildly against the bud, before treating the other one the same, groping and grabbing till he felt they were marked enough.

he sunk lower, pressing kisses to your belly and sinking till the gap between your thighs,before reaching up again. you watched with bated breath as he grabbed the bottle again, tipping it over so it flowed into your belly and pooled into your belly button. he let his tongue dip in, sucking up the champagne, and making you moan at the sight.

he tipped it up towards your mouth again, letting you have a swig of champagne, licking up the beads that dripped down your chin.

"so fucking delicious, have to taste the rest of you" he murmured. "ma belle fille, mon amour" he whispered, leaning down to his thighs, pressing kisses to your thighs, all the way till your ankles, letting it rest on top of his shoulder as he leaned up.

he pressed kisses all the way till he reached your pussy, clad in black lacy panties. he inhaled the scent deeply, a sight that brought a sob to your throat.

"fuck please baby, I need your tongue in me" you sobbed, a strangled wail leaving your lips when his tongue sucked over the lady barrier through the arousal seeping out.

he licked and sucked till the material was drenched, fingers tracing up and down your thighs gently, making goosebumps erupt on your skin.

he hooked his fingers into your panties, tugging it down, leaving your pussy quivering when the cool air came into contact with your pussy.

charles reached for the bottle again, tipping the bottle just a little so it dripped a tiny sprinkle of champagne down your thighs. he licked it up, hands gripping into your thighs.

and then, his fingers were spreading you open, moaning as he saw your pussy lips struggle to seperate as your sticky arousal clung like a golden thread. he broke it with his fingers swirling it into his tongue, moaning at the taste.

"you taste sweeter than honey, bebe" he whispered, moaning into your pussy. his tongue licked up the expanse of your pussy, flicking erratically against your clit, licking all around the engorged, throbbing bud, before he began to suck on it with fervour. he bent your legs are an angle, so he had better access to your pussy, his head resting temporarily on your thigh, and drank up the sounds of you moaning and whimpering above him.

above him, you were moaning and whining his name, letting out a squeal when he started licking his initials onto your clit, tracing a curved c and an elongated l.

"please please please" you chanted, overcome with pleasure.

his finger slipped into your fluttering hole, thumb helping as he sucked on your clit, the overwhelming sensations sending you ricocheting towards a high.

"baby baby please im gonna fucking cum" you screamed, hips bucking wildly against his mouth as he continued to suck and lick at your pussy.

and just as you thought the pleasure was at its peak, he began to shake his head in your pussy, the erratic movement bringing an even more intense onslaught of pleasure onto your pussy. "oh fuck charles" you screamed, thighs quaking and head falling back in pleasure as you came violently, cum squirting from your pussy that he lapped up like amortentia.

but to your pleasure, he didn't stop there. he kept sucking, with more vigour and more intensity, slurping from your pussy like it was the most delicious thing in the world, moaning and groaning into your clit, sloppy and messy but oh how fucking good it felt

"cum for me, let me taste you again mon gagnant" (my winner) he murmured, the vibrations sending you over the edge again.

you came with a cry against tears dripping against you cheek.

panting, charles crawled his way back up your body, kissing your lips and gently wiping away the tears, pressing saccharine sweet kisses to your red cheeks, tracing the puff of the muscle with his pinky and pressing kisses to every corner of your face as you calmed down, whispering sweet whispers of "my sweet girl, my angel, my baby, my heart" like a mantra in french.

"baby please I need your cock" you sobbed, hands gripping onto his back, wrapping around his neck, nose reddening and eyes teary as you looked at him.

"you want my cock, mon coeur?" he cooked, voice syrupy sweet and sticky, tracing soothing circles on your thigh.

you only blubbered a yes in response, watching him cup his cock, getting it ready for your throbbing pussy as he spread his pre cum around it, body still pressed warmly against yours, pressing sweet kisses to your shoulders.

he lined up with your entrance, watching as you let out a shaky breath, eyes falling shut, as you clenched in anticipation. "my sweet angel drove so spectacularly, she deserves the world, doesn't she?" he cooed again, pushing a sweaty strand of hair away from your face.

"please baby, i think I do" you whined, swollen lips curling into a pout. "of course you do, mon chat" he murmured, lips pressed to your hairline, before slowly, in a single thrust, he had slotted himself inside you.

you gasped, gummy walls stretching to accomodate his cock. "fuck!" you whined, back arching off of the bed to meet his chest.

fuck, mon coeur, tellement serre" he groaned (so tight), hand interlocking with your own, fingers interlacing, the feeling adding such an addictive homeliness to the passinate moment.

his hips thrusted slowly, steadily, deeply, hitting spots that had you seeing stars. your hands clung to his back, nails raking down, tearing the skin, and you hear him hiss and moan at the sensation, hand squeezing you're tighter.

"I love you!" you sobbed out, when he raised your hips to grab onto your leg, pushing it away towards your head, and wrapping the other one around his waist, the new angle allowing him to fuck you even deeper into the mattress. his fingers dropped to your clit again, circling, rubbing roughly, even pinching softly enough to leave your body jolting, lips dropping back to your nipples to suck on them.

"je t'aime ma jolie" he moaned out, head dropping into the crook of your neck as his thrusts increased in pace, and the room echoed with the lewd squelches, groans and moans, pants and whines, as you clung to him tighter.

"charles m gonna cum" you whined, eyes rolling to the back of your head as charles sunk his teeth into the juncture between your neck and shoulder.

"cum for me" he growled, and with a cry, you came undone for the third time that night. thighs shaking, breath quaking, your squirted over his cock, soaking the bedding and his thighs as it dripped everywhere, and the mere sight was enough to make charles cum, shooting his cum into your, watching it drip out of your pussy.

panting, he rolled off of you, pulling you into his chest as you both lay on the bed, completely winded and tuckered out.

your chest heaved and breath came out laboured as you came down from your high. charles peppered kisses on your face, kissing your nose, chin, cheeks, lips, forehead and your eyes softly, drawing soothing circles over your heart to help you calm down.

"did so good for me, ma cherie" he cooed, syrupy and sweet like honey. "I'll be right back amour" he said, pressing a kiss to your hairline, to disappear into the bathroom.

you heard the tap running and he returned with a warm soaked towel, cleaning up between your thighs and all the way up your body, letting you cool down after the passionate session. he peppered kisses to every spot he cleaned, pulling your hair into a delicate ponytail.

he cleaned himself up and joined you in bed again, holding up your back as he made you take small sips of cold water, ordering room service for a good pasta for you two, and a chocolate mousse.

"I love you so much" you mumbled, pressing a kiss to his chest. "i love you more" he said, a soft smile on his face.

"im so lucky to have you in my life" he confessed, taking in your sleepy face and the slow pattern of your breathing. "you make everyday a hundred times more beautiful, when I'm with you, the sun moon and stars don't compare" he continued his poetic confession.

"you make me feel like the luckiest woman in the world by letting me love you" you said,voice cracking as you looked at his form, so beautiful, so sweet, so loving.

your peaceful moment of tranquility was broken by a series frantic beeps from both your phones.

raising an eyebrow, you let your head drop to charles' chest while he reached for your phone.

his eyes widened, fear creeping into them as he sat up abruptly.

"fuck" he cursed, carding a hand through his hair, turning to look at you, an odd look of fear in his face.

"what's wrong?" you asked, dread rising in your chest like an ice cold steam, fearing the very worst.

in response he just showed you his phone.

there, on instagram and twitter, were a series of dark, blurry, pixellated picture of a man and woman in a club, hands all on each other, and a very telling video of the woman grinding her body seductively against the man.

you and charles.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

a/n : part two!! might make a part three or might just....leave it here 👀 as always likes comments reblogs opinions are appreciated!! always down to make new friends and do let me know what you think! happy reading and much love always 🩷

TAGS

charles :@chanshintien @eternalharry @janeholt3 @magicalcowboyarbiter @oneafterdark @leclerc13 @crlsummer @electrobutterfly @superlegend216 (f1) @formula1mount @f1lov3r @livsters @inkfablesandstories @ivegotparticulartaste (all f1) @moon-enthusiast (all f1 @ssararuffoni @dark-night-sky-99

also tagging those who responded to this series!

@tempo-rary-fix @marymustdie @p4st3lst4rs @thesstuff @lauralarsen @notleclerc @dreamcarsound @dhe3read3 @urfavnoirette

[shunsuiken]

THE ONE I RETURN TO.

pairing. kamisato ayato x fem!reader

genre. fluff + marriage au + reader is kinda shy btw (PLEASE CAN U BLAME ME ITS AYATO) + also you wear fragranced hand cream here

synopsis. day to day life married to kamisato ayato is never boring. there is always something to complete and achieve by the end of the day. however, due to your husband’s busy schedule, he’s never seen you in your element at work to ensure the household is in order. and tonight, he finally gets that chance.

wc. 2k

an. heavily inspired by ayato’s character story where the maids and servants often leave notes for him on his study so that he stays up to date with anything going on in the household I LOVE MY HUSBAND SO MUCH AWHWEHEURUFHDB its also my birthday today (well, it was, like 30mins ago but still) so this is a gift from me to you <3 okay please enjoy !!!

as ayato’s wife, you make sure to take care of the household while your husband attends to official duties. even if these duties take much of his time, you don’t fail to report and update him of any changes or requests made within the household and thanks to his lovely sister, ayaka, you learnt that the estate’s way of filling in the clan head on any news was though writing little notes to stick onto any books that were left open after the commissioner left his study.

as your husband, ayato really should be spending more time with you. everyone around him is aware of the capable and loving wife he has at home. some even whisper underneath their breaths that the lord commissioner is too busy to even have a wife. but he knows that is wrong, he doesn’t leave you unattended. in fact, he showers you in so many gifts (hand creams, hair products, skin care products—the list goes on!) when he knows he’ll be on business for longer than usual. this is how you found two new sets of kimono’s waiting for you on your shared bed. you must admit, they’re gorgeous. the delicate hands of ogura mio never disappoint… you nod your head in agreement to your own thoughts as you hold up the material closer to your face.

a knock on the door snaps you out of your mind.

“yes?”

“y/n? i was wondering if you were free? thoma made some pastries, would you like to—”

you bolt for the shoji before sliding it open with practiced grace. your gentle smile greets ayaka’s cute expectant expression. “of course, ayaka! you know i always have time for you.”

her eyes curl like crescents, boldly looping her arm with yours so she can take you to the area outside the estate’s doors. the evening breeze is cool but it doesn’t make you chilly enough to request a coat.

you and ayaka have always been the best of friends, even before you were wed to ayato. although you were a few years older than her, it did not change the shared frequency you both had when it came to certain hobbies and topics. then one day, you met ayato while he was on official business and you couldn’t deny how composed and… gorgeous that man was on that day. so after silently eyeing each other from across the room of authorities and inazuman nobility, he finally introduced himself, saying “he never had the pleasure of meeting you.”

you both soon grew closer, contacting each other through letters—referring to one another as your “penpal” when really you two were flirting (very, very subtly) on a piece of paper. you both only spoke during events hosted by other noble clan’s or official authorities, which was for the safety of both your reputations because god forbid a rumour that the yashiro commissioner was seeking a wife. imagine the uproar it would cause in inazuma city!

oh, and it certainly did.

as you stack papers upon papers in your husband’s study, you reminisce quietly with a relaxed smile on your face. you take the notes other servants have left and arrange them in categories of: household updates, requests and miscellaneous things. you often find yourself reading through the miscellaneous category of notes the most as they bring a laugh out of you. once you read that a servant politely asked the clan head to watch his step when leaving the study so he would avoid bumping into any potted plants. you remember that day and you remember how you were holding in your laughter at the disaster in the room when thoma showed you.

“my lady, sometimes the lord likes to get ahead of himself so it results in his feet working quicker than his head,” thoma commented as he cleaned the mess of soil and the depressing state of the plant.

you hummed in agreement. “that, i could tell very easily.”

a chuckle leaves your lips as you read through more of the notes from the retainers. “oh dear, these are too much for me.” you cover your mouth to contain your giggles. these people just have the most outlandish things to say! oh well, it is nice to know they aren’t afraid to be honest.

you’re lucky it’s past midnight, when everyone is asleep so they wouldn’t have to hear your muffled giggles.

everyone except for one person.

your husband, of course. who idly stands in the corridor with the shoji being the one thing that separates you two. he listens to how you whisper under your breath as you read the notes, or how you repeat what some of them say due to how amusing they are.

“my lord, your bountiful order of rice cakes will arrive within 3-5 days. until then please refrain from stepping into the kitchen to fi—pfft.” clearly, pursing your lips isn’t enough to keep you from bursting into laughter. “—to fix up your own—oh no, that is absolutely something he would do.”

ayato only realises how much he’s been yearning to hear your voice until now. it’s a shame this is the first time he’s bumped into you on these midnight reviews (he can see the smile on your face as you read the note even when he’s not looking at you, oh how he misses that sweet look on your face). licking his lips lightly, his gloved fingers stealthily slide the shoji open by an inch so the view reveals your figure that is turned back to him. his lavender gaze captures the sight of your hair loose and that you’re wearing the yukata he gifted you two weeks ago. you sit comfortably on his specially made tatami mat too.

sometimes ayato barely even has the time to be in your presence. but this moment right now, where he enjoys your presence without you even knowing, is nice. although the painful drop in his stomach inks him with a tinge of regret, he well understands how his duties must stay a priority. after all, he has a family to protect. ayaka, you, thoma and the retainers. he cannot fail any of you.

ayato purses his lips before he announces his presence with a light thud of the shoji shutting behind him. “hello darling.”

your spine snaps straight up at the sound and the voice. “ayato?” turning around, you watch your husband make his way toward you sitting on his tatami mat. he kneels down beside you before pulling another mat from the side to sit on it.

your mind struggles to process the moment until he is sat down. your movements are paused, two notes from the retainers still held in your hands. “when… did you arrive? it’s pretty early.”

a light chuckle leaves ayato’s lips, “darling, what are you implying? would you rather i leave?” he puts on an expression feigning disappointment, pretending to get up from his seat.

your hands move quickly, halting his act with your warm palm on his knee. “no no, don’t! stay here please.” the hastiness in your voice is accompanied by your wide eyes that have a longingness to them, a longingness that you still struggle to communicate verbally. which is how you end up subconsciously relying on your husband’s perceptiveness to get wind of what you’re feeling without telling him.

he huffs at you fondly, fixing his clothing to sit comfortably on the tatami mat again. then he takes your hand in his hand before you can pull it back. “as you wish, my dear.” he tugs on your hand and you give him a questioning look.

“come closer.”

“o- oh.” your other hand scrunches up the material of your yukata, which ayato totally sees and pretends he doesn’t. little shit. you want to curse because he knows how good he is at making your heart flutter. your body gives into him nonetheless, the longing and yearning for him finally melting into your limbs as you become putty in his arms, sitting in between his legs with both the tatami mats providing your bottom's comfort.

your arms shyly snake around his clothed waist, comfortably wrapping yourself around your husband you missed so much.

ayato lets you do whatever you want, knowing you will indulge in his invitation. sliding his gloves off his fingers, he puts them on the table so that he can feel your body without the obstruction. such a sullied garment that shakes hands with officials, signs documents and motions at retainers to obey his orders simply does not earn the right to hold you.

your head hides in the juncture between his neck and shoulder and he feels your soft breaths against his neck. he gently places his jaw on the crown of your head, finding solace in the embrace as his arms hold onto your smaller body.

the warmth from his palms spread on your skin, calming your nerves instantaneously.

“so is this what you do in my office at this time?”

you hum into his skin, “usually you’re not home by this time so it’s only natural you don’t bump into me when i’m in here.” your breath tickles ayato, a tug playing on his rosy lips at the physical intimacy. “you can imagine how shocked i was when you magically appeared behind me.” your soft giggle fills the room momentarily.

“it’s no wonder that all of my notes are arranged tidily when i return,” ayato chuckles softly, “it’s not to say that they weren’t tidy before but these notes held a certain scent on them that led me to believe that my wife was here prior.” he gently takes your hand that was wrapped around him, pulling it up to plant a kiss on your knuckles.

oh, you definitely felt how he inhaled slightly when his lips touched your knuckles. you glare at him, but there is no anger behind your eyes. “you rascal, you sniff your notes?”

ayato’s grin only widens at the name you call him, enjoying your response to his teasing. “darling, you’re the only one in this estate who wears this scented hand cream. i also personally chose it for you so i had no doubts about it.” he then sighs disappointedly, “though it is a shame this is the first time i’ve caught you in here, what if you stayed longer next time?”

you deadpan at him. “you want me to camp out here in your office?” because with his schedules, you might not even step foot into your bedroom until dawn.

ayato shakes his head, laughing softly at your expression. “don’t say that, you know i rush home every time once i’m finished.”

you pat his shoulder, putting on an act of sympathy before exhaling to feign exasperation. “and you will find me in our bedroom once you’re done.”

“y/n!” your husband almost whines, his brows creasing sorrowfully.

his expression doesn’t improve until you’ve kissed every inch of his pretty face, and only then does the corner of his lip curl up. with your hands cupping his face, he opens an eye to peek over at you ready to give him another smooch, consequently making you pause.

“are you satisfied, my lord?”

“hm, perhaps another one—over here.” ayato ponders for a moment before tapping his index finger on his own cheek. he closes his eyes yet again to await your kiss.

it does not arrive.

so he opens his eyes again, mouth ready to pester you with complaints for not granting him your divine kisses but just as he does, you’re up in his face to place that kiss he was waiting for on his cheek.

“there you go, happy?”

“most unbelievably.” his voice is soft, tender, almost a whisper. but clear enough for your ears to catch it. ayato stares at you with these eyes that tempt you into looking away. the loving and affectionate gaze of those lilac eyes, paired with that gentle curl of his pink, moistened lips is reserved, just for you. he takes your hands in his again, lifting one of them to place another ardent kiss on your knuckles. 

“especially since it’s you, the one i return to.”

[lilspacewolfie]

Papas Caring For Hospitalized Reader

Spawned from pure self-indulgence. I've been through more hospital visits these last four weeks than I have my entire life. I want someone to bundle me up and make my hand better. I hate hospitals and operations *sobs*. Enjoy nonetheless!

Content: 2k words, Papas x gn!reader, SFW, bullet-pointed format, mentions of hospitals, needles (only mentioned), mention of general anaesthetic, angst, hurt/comfort, anxiety, lots of sweetness, you're getting pampered, no beta we die like nihil!)

This man will do everything in his power to make sure you’re looked after and relaxed. 

Tea for days! He will try different flavours until he finds the one you like.

Dives headfirst into deep research as to which herbs help your injury heal, as well as calm your nerves. He knows his plants well, but he wants to know more. You deserve the best of the best.

Insists on going with you for infirmary visits even when you tell him you’re fine (you’re not really, but you just don't want him to worry.)

He will anyway. 

Chronic worrier, especially given his age. 

He takes his health VERY seriously, yours too! The Ministry has the best medical care around. 

If you need a wound cleaned, stitches taken out, or other medicines, it's the place to get it. 

Primo will be with you as much as he’s able to, even if that means he’s sitting for a long time while you’re being treated. 

When you’re free and discharged—bandaged, bruised and probably feeling sore, he’ll take you back to his room for some TLC. 

Will have a bath or shower with you, (in his jungle of a washroom), depending on what you prefer and smother you with all your favourite scents.  

He’s a deeply caring individual and shows it openly. 

Will speak gently to you, whisper sweetly and ensure you’re not overstimulated more than you have been. 

“Shh, I know. I know amore. It’ll be over soon, just breathe for me.”

He knows how much you hate hospital/doctor visits. 

You can squeeze his hand if you want. 

If you need space for a bit after everything, he’ll gladly give it. 

If not, prepare to receive a lot of kisses, especially on your forehead (a lot of them, like… SO many.)

He will help you bathe if you’re unable to, running a foaming washcloth over your skin carefully. 

Let him wash your hair! It’s one of the things he adores doing for you!

Once you’re washed, warm and feeling more relaxed it’s time for more tea in bed with a snack if you want one!

He insists. Even if you don't feel like eating, try to drink something for him <3

“It will help you feel good and relax, Il mio fiore.” (My flower)

Fluids are important (wink-wonk).

Reminds you to take your meds like clockwork (always with tea and water)

You’re his petalo (petal) and he loves you dearly. 

Will wrap you up in the mountain of blankets and faux furs he has on his lush bed. He’s old, he feels the cold more than others. At least he has you to keep him warm.

Secondo hates when you’re hurt/hurting in any capacity. 

Even if it's something minor, he’ll worry about it to the point where he loses sleep over it. 

He’s a big, brooding mother hen. 

The Emeritus curse of being a chronic worrier doesn’t stop at Primo.

This man wants you to be okay and it kills him when you’re not. 

Will also go with you to the infirmary and stay with you. 

The staff always find him a little intimidating, but they know he’s just worried sick. He’s kind to everyone, but honestly, he won't speak much unless spoken to. 

“Are you alright, mio tesoro?” Is what he mainly asks, his voice so low it's close to a rumble. 

Tries his best to make you feel relaxed. 

Will make really, god-awful dad jokes that are so bad you do laugh. 

He will quietly hold your hand the entire time, rubbing his bare fingers over our knuckles. 

You rarely see him remove his gloves in public, but he HAS to be touching you. He insists. 

He’s had enough knocks and breaks in his life to know how fragile the human body can be, but also how incredible it is at self-repair. 

That doesn’t mean he views you as a fragile thing that needs to be wrapped in wool, but he loves you so deeply he would if you let him. 

He admires your strength and resolve as you put up with being poked and prodded (by needles or with doctors.) 

Once you’re released from care, good luck getting him to be anywhere less than within touching distance. 

You’re getting a kiss. Lots of them. Mostly chaste and gentle. 

You can tell it's because he worries about hurting you. 

He relaxes a bit more when you kiss him HARD and bite at his bottom lip. 

Will also help you bathe and shower. Again, touching distance. Just let him be near you for his own sanity. 

Though he wouldn’t be upset if you need some space. He’s very understanding if you’re overstimulated. 

Will linger outside the door in case you need anything. 

Let him dry you off and dress you in comfortable clothes. He can see you that way. 

He can see you’re still with him and that you’re safe. 

He’ll touch you slowly, running his large hands over your skin. 

Will spoon you once you’re in bed or let you curl into him. 

He’ll bury his nose in your hair, breathe you in and say a wordless prayer to Lucifer that you recover quickly. 

“Ti amo.” You hear him whisper as he presses a kiss to your forehead and strokes your hair.

Only falls asleep once he’s sure you have, holding you close the entire night. 

Terzo. Oh, Terzo. 

Emeritus curse of being a chronic worrier? Check. Turn it up to eleven. 

Unlike Secondo, Terzo is open with his worries. 

He’s a fair mix of his brothers, both gentle and occasionally stoic given the shape you’re in. 

If it's something minor, he’ll try to play it off with a bit of humour like he tends to do. He’ll make bad jokes (oh ho, you thought Secondo’s were bad just wait for this.) 

If it’s something you need an operation for, this man will be silently out of his mind. *insert any internally screaming gif here*

He takes pride in his appearance, but you’ll start to notice cracks—dishevelled hair, a button not done up or a smudge of his paint. 

It would worry you more if he didn’t have Omega or one of his brothers to make sure he’s drinking and eating regularly.

Tries to hide his stress. Fails. Rinse and repeat. 

He doesn’t want you to worry about him, you’re the one in pain, about to be put under and Lucifer… What's he going to do if something happens?

He loves you. Adores you. You’re his life.

He knows how much you hate being stuck in hospitals and it pains him to see you stressed. The last thing he wants to do is add to that, so he’ll play it cool. 

When you go in he’s pacing the halls.

Rest assured, the healthcare of the Ministry has you in safe hands. 

It puts Terzo at ease, but don't expect him to leave your side when everything is over. He will sit at your bedside, kiss your knuckles and stroke your hair. 

Let him touch you. Just let him. 

He’s been through so much heartache in his life. 

Will kiss each of your fingers and whisper sweet words to you. 

“You’ll be okay, vita mia. Cuore mio. I’m here. I’m with you.” (My life. My heart.)

Maybe he’ll hum some songs too. 

You’re his everything. 

Once you’re ready and well enough to leave, you’re getting pampered to hell and back. This man worships the ground you walk on. 

Whatever you want it's not too much. A bath? A shower? Just to get into bed and fall asleep? Terzo’s right there with you.

Dinner in his massive, plush bed with your favourite movie.

When you’re ready to sleep he’ll plaster himself to you. He would crawl inside your skin if he could. 

Fitful sleeper. Wakes up a few times just to make sure you’re ok. 

Eventually sleeps soundly once you kiss his worries away. 

Stroke his hair. He’s a sucker for that!

*Copia is not Nihil’s son in my verses/AUs unless explicitly stated.*

He’s learned bad habits from the Papas it seems. 

Worrier. Yes, it's chronic. Seriously, are we sure this isn’t like the flu?

Paces a lot. 

Good luck getting him to sit still. 

If he's not pacing, he’s as close to you as physics will allow. 

Lots of touching. Will rest his head by your hip if he’s tired from all that pacing. 

Perfect opportunity to run your fingers through his hair.  

He’ll hold your hands and kiss your knuckles. 

All that stress tires him out. 

“Mi dispiace, amore. Non sto aiutando,” he’ll whisper brokenly. (I'm sorry, amore. I'm not helping.)

You two probably end up curled up on the bed of the infirmary together if you have been waiting a while. A nap won't hurt. 

You kiss slowly as you get comfortable, limbs tangled.

The angle is a bit awkward. 

The sleep helps but he’s still going to be stressed when he wakes up. 

Will get you anything you need. A drink or food, perhaps one of the really nice yogurts they do at the visitor's cantine. 

Will ask the nurses and doctors SO many questions. He likes to be informed. Gets stressed if anything is unclear. 

Maybe he should be in this infirmary bed and not you. 

Prepare to be coddled once you’re discharged. 

You’re both taking a long, hot bath or shower. 

He wants to wash you down so he can see you and make sure you’re ok. Lots of tender kisses to your skin. 

Ends up with you in his arms under the hot water just swaying together. 

You’re wearing his clothes. No, not just because he likes how they look on you but because they’re baggy and won't irritate your skin *cough*. Sure Copia. 

He’ll order your favourite food and you can watch a movie in his room together. 

Will mother hen you, constantly ask if you need anything, and make sure your water glass is full. 

He probably will cry. It’s just been so much. 

You can cry together if you want. You both understand. 

Also like clockwork when it comes to medication (if you’re taking any.) 

Curls up in bed with you. You both sleep like the dead after such a long, stressful day. 

Breakfast in bed when you wake up.

*Copia is not Nihil’s son in my verses/AUs unless explicitly stated.*

Copia might not be of the Emeritus blood, but unholy shit does the curse of being a chronic worrier catch like wildfire. 

He’s Papa now he’s gotta be strong. 

Will put on a brave face. But underneath he’s still the cardinal he was years back. 

He’ll worry and fret and pace. There's no changing some things. 

While he’s outwardly less anxious, this poor man has so much weighing on his shoulders after he took over to front the band. 

Inwardly it's chaos. 

His hair is never quite as smoothed back as it normally is and his paint is a touch worn. 

There are some things you can't change about a man. Not really. 

Prepare to be coddled, again. The mother hen has never left the coop. 

He’s going to pamper you when he gets you back to his room. Of course, you’re staying with him, he’s not letting you go. 

So. Many. Kisses. 

This man loves kissing you. He adores you so. 

A bath in his spacious tub is just what the doctor ordered. You lay against him and relax in the dim with only the light of candles. 

Finally lets himself cry. 

You shush him, kiss him and remind him that you love him and that you’re ok. 

He loves you so much he can't even express it. The thought of losing you kills him. 

He tries to push your hands away when you take a cloth to his paint. You’re the one who's been hurt and poked at all day, he’s supposed to be caring for you!

Eventually relents because you both know you need this. 

More kisses and mutual washing. You love seeing how his skin pinkens across his cheek, arms and back. It brings out the pretty freckles all over his body. 

When you both get into bed, tangled up again, Copia will whisper how much he loves you until he’s too tired to talk anymore. 

You both sleep like the dead.

masterlist ⛧ Ao3

[vpyre]

77. “do you like it when i touch right here?” for copia and anyone of your choosing

Hehehe hell yeah >:3

From now on (I say as if I haven’t been doing it already lmao) I think I’ll just default to a reader insert when there isn’t a character specified, if that’s alright with y’all!

Copia sucks in a small gasp, lips parting ever so slightly, head falling back against the headboard with a quiet thunk as you slide your hands slowly and deliberately up the bare skin of his thighs. His cock twitches where it lays, stiff and already leaking, on his stomach. A longing whine quavers in his throat.

“Amore-“

You gently knead at the soft flesh of his inner thighs and he cuts himself off with a blissful little hum. The sound sends a pulse of warmth tingling through your veins to pool between your legs, thick and sweet like honey. He was too precious; it was going to be the death of you one day. He’d make that sound, look at you with those soft, lovestruck eyes, and you’d simply melt away into nothingness.

“Yes, il mio piccolo?” you croon. He blushes faintly at the endearment, looking away bashfully.

“That feels really nice,” he murmurs shyly, and his flush darkens. You can’t resist, not when he’s being this sweet. Gently, you slide a finger under his chin and guide his face to yours, capturing his lips in a kiss so slow, so tender it aches. He whimpers softly, and you open your mouth as if to taste it. He follows your lead, parting his lips eagerly to let your tongue slip inside. You lick leisurely into his mouth, tasting the sweetness of the peach wine from earlier that has been left, forgotten, on the nightstand. Your tongue rubs up against his, and he moans so wantonly, you know your underwear is done for.

Humming with pleasure, you pull away so you can tell him how good he’s being, but he lets out a pathetic whine and leans forward, chasing after you in a desperate attempt to keep your lips on his. You huff affectionately and put a hand on his chest, holding him down. He looks so lost and forlorn it’s almost comical, even as it tugs painfully at your heartstrings.

“Aww, baby! I’m sorry!” You cup his face in your hands and stroke your thumbs over his cheekbones. “I was just about to tell you how lovely you are. You were doing so well, I wouldn’t punish you for that,” you reassure him. He nods, looking up at you with wide eyes brimming with devotion. Fucking hell. Those eyes spark something in you, a surge of heat that ignites a wild hunger.

You yank him into another kiss, this one ravenous and insistent. Licking into his mouth with fervor, your tongue curls over his teeth and tangles with his tongue. Your muffled groans mingle with his needy whimpers and you feel his hands scrabble frantically at your back. Twining your fingers in his hair, you reach your other hand down to wrap around his cock. He jerks and keens into your mouth, all high-pitched and squeaky, and you have to pull back to catch the breath he just stole from you with that perfect little noise.

“Do you like it when I touch right here, sweet thing?” you pant, rubbing him torturously slow, drawing out a breathy moan from his kiss-red lips.

“Y- yes, tesoro,” he gasps. “Fuck-”

He bucks his hips, and you can tell he’s not gonna last long. Your hand is already slick with his pre and he’s red in the face, utterly ruined with just a few strokes. God, he’s pathetic. And so fucking cute.

“Oh, my sweet boy. You’re so fucking pretty. So good for me. So fucking good,” you groan, pumping your fist up and down as he squirms and thrusts desperately into your hand; short, sharp cries filling the air. His hips jerk and stutter and jolt; his brows furrow, his eyes scrunch shut, his hands fist in the sheets. His movements are erratic and frenzied, his moans and gasps and cries are getting louder and louder and-

A wail bursts from his throat and you watch, breathless, as thick, white ribbons of spend paint his stomach. You slow, but keep stroking until his euphoric little “ah!”s fade to quiet sighs of pleasure and relief and he relaxes, eyes fluttering shut, going boneless from exertion and satisfaction.

You sit there while he recovers for a second, drinking in the sight of him like he’s water in the desert. He’s gorgeous like this, worn out and covered in his own release, and you wish you could stay here, in this moment, for the rest of time. Just looking. Just adoring.

He blinks lethargically at you, probably wondering why you’re so quiet. But when he sees how you’re looking at him, his eyes soften and he smiles that achingly beautiful smile. The one that only you get to see. The one that tells you more than any words ever could. He reaches for you, and you scoop him into your arms and hold him close, pressing gentle kisses to the top of his head.

[margowritesthings]

Vedova Nera

pairing: Dutch van der Linde x f!reader

summary: You've been Angelo Bronte's live-in assassin for years now, going undercover to kill those who have wronged him. Your next job seems rather simple: eliminate the outlaw Dutch van der Linde. What could go wrong?

word count: 5710 words

warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI, PLEASE READ WARNINGS BEFORE READING, I AM NOT RESPONSIBLE FOR YOUR MEDIA CONSUMPTION, violence, mentions of sex as part of a job, breath play, reader is an assassin, rough sex, choking, attempted murder, angelo bronte being a creep, sexual themes, cunnilingus (r receiving and giving)

a/n: this was a request from my beloved @cowboydisaster and god was it a wonderful prompt. I LOVED writing this, so thank you for the inspiration darling. So so glad to be publishing after such a long break, and I want to thank any and all of you who have stuck around to wait for me <3 love y'all, here's some filthy Daddy Dutch smut!

beta read by @cowboydisaster

taglist: @cowboydisaster @inkandbloodbound @beea-nie @cloudynoiire @punctillous @dutchysoriginalwife

support me by buying me a coffee!

When the sunlight streams through the gap between the red velvet curtains, peacefully stirring you awake, it feels like any other day. The silk sheets seduce you to stay, the feather pillow beneath your head luring you into five more minutes of dreaming, despite the noises of the hustle and bustle of Saint Denis penetrating the peace through a crack in your bedroom window. You really could stay here all day, cocooned in luxury while the staff serve your every whim.

But you can’t. The second your lashes flutter open and your eyes land on the dress hanging from your wardrobe, you’re reminded exactly why. While the fact that somebody must’ve delivered it to your room while you slept churns your stomach for a moment, you can’t deny that it’s an exquisite piece. The silk falls from the hook like a crimson waterfall and you know it will hug your body just perfectly by the way it hangs. You’ll look perfect tonight at the party, even if you will be draped on his arm. 

Urgh. The frown on your face is quickly pushed away at the sound of your door knocking. Nice of them to knock this time, though you’re sure it’s only because they know you’re awake and would knock whoever is brave enough to sneak into your room on their ass in seconds. 

“Miss? Mr. Bronte would like to see you.” The voice is somewhat muffled by the heavy wooden door, but your orders are clear as day, no matter how politely they’re worded. You’re to be downstairs in no more than five minutes. You huff, the only response you’re willing to give to the poor, innocent henchman at the other side of the door. Well, not exactly innocent, but who are you to talk? 

It doesn’t take long for you to brush your hair out of its braid with your fingers, the curls freely cascading down your back, get dressed, and find yourself knocking on the open, ornate door leading to the parlour. Bronte is waiting for you, arms stretched out around the back of the couch, taking up far more room than he deserves to. When he lays his eyes on you, he stands, reaching his arms out, palms upturned as he grins at you.

“Ah, il mio poccola ragna, how are you?” 

It feels like you’re being doused in lukewarm grease, but you allow him to hold your hands in his, pulling you just close enough to kiss you on the cheek, “I’m fine. Thank you for the dress, it’s beautiful.”

“And you will look stunning in it tonight, cara mia. Nothing but the best for la mia vedova nera.” 

You raise a brow, knowing that Angelo only calls you his black widow when he has a job for you. Of course he does. Nothing comes free in this world, and you have a deal. Bronte gives you a roof over your head, that plush bed you’ve grown awfully fond of, and all the luxuries a man of his stature could offer. In return, you work exclusively for him, as opposed to the freelance assassinations you used to offer to anyone with a fat enough wallet. In its simplest terms, that is your agreement with Angelo Bronte, but that doesn’t stop his wandering eyes, sickly terms of endearment and clammy hands wherever he can get them.

“It is with only the deepest regret that I shall not have you on my arm tonight, but alas, I have a job for you that requires a certain distance between the two of us, amore.”

It takes a level of restraint to not physically sigh in relief when you learn you won’t be spending the evening performing as Bronte’s woman, but your intrigue grows ever stronger when your curious gaze falls to the wanted poster laying on the table next to you. A sketch of a man steals your attention, and his intense stare threatens to never give it back despite being mere charcoal. Instinct tells you to reach out and run a finger lightly over the crumpled paper, tracing the man’s strong jawline, though you’re not quite sure why. You’ve never seen him before, nor have you heard his name: Dutch van der Linde. The poster isn’t from around here, it’s from Blackwater. You can tell, because you’ve seen your own face staring back at you on one just like it before finding yourself under Bronte’s protection. 

“This the guy?” You ask quietly, still entranced by this stranger etched into coffee coloured paper. Bronte doesn’t seem to notice, already leaning back into the loveseat.

“Sí, bella. He is new to town, he does not know of my vedova nera, and we must keep it that way. He dishonours me, dishonours my city. He will be at the mayor’s party tonight, but he will not see tomorrow, will he, cara mia?”

It isn’t a question, but you nod anyway.

Dutch van der Linde will not live to see another day. 

═══════☆═══════

Some consider this, the pomp and performance of high society, a gilded cage, forcing man into superficial roles to play and stripping him of any true freedoms, but you’ve learnt to see the beauty in taking advantage of it. You’re more than happy to put on a pretty dress and play pretend, laughing along to terrible anecdotes with a drink in your hand and a smile perfectly crafted on your reddened lips. After having truly nothing, living at the very bottom of the food chain, putting up with this farce is a small price to pay for a little security. Besides, drinking champagne while rich men call you beautiful is hardly a sacrifice. Most of them are old and rather greasy, but you’re more than capable of holding your own. They’re just microscopic cogs in a grand plan they’ll never even know about, orchestrated by someone they overlooked because of the way they look. Your greatest asset, you’re sure.

You reach for the champagne flute at the very top of the sparking pyramid, the bubbles dancing on your tongue from the first sip. When you make your way upstairs to the balcony, every tiny bubble rising to the top of your glass reflects the illuminated string lights wrapped around the iron gazebo and every pole in the perfectly tended garden, casting the who’s who of Saint Denis in a warm glow. From your spot on the balcony, you observe all, searching for your Dutch van der Linde. You can see your host, mayor Henri Lemieux, engaging in what could only be considered ‘schmoozing’ with a group of men in top hats by the fountain, and although you can’t see every face, you somehow know that none of them are the one you’re looking for. Those piercing eyes are sure to come with a presence to match, and you can’t feel it yet. 

That is, until the french doors into the house are opened and the hairs on your arm stand up straight. You blame the cool breeze that is pushed into you by the swing of the door, though that doesn’t account for the quickening pace of your heart. You rarely get nervous for a job, why would you? It’s all you’ve ever known. 

So why this one?

The thought falls down your spine with a shudder, and you try to shed your doubts quickly with a rather large sip of champagne that seems to numb the sharp edges to smooth curves just slightly. Your hand rests gently on the balcony, maintaining a facade that you’re looking out into the crowds below instead of listening in on the conversation between the group of men just feet away from you. In your peripheral vision, you spot him, dressed in a suit that simply must have been sewn around his body with the way it perfectly fits him. He wears a top hat, a large cigar burning between his gloved fingers. He takes your breath away upon first glance, your cheeks flushing when your eyes meet. You offer a small smile, before looking back over the ongoing party and finishing the rest of your champagne, leaving a red stain on the lip of the flute.

Now, you wait, hoping you left enough of an air of mystery and allure for your target to approach you. Bronte is with the group of men attending with Dutch, but neither of you acknowledges the other to maintain appearances. Definitely something you could get used to. 

Twirling the stem of your flute between your nimble fingers, you watch the crystal carvings refract and scatter beautiful dots of light over your dress as you listen in to Dutch, Bronte, and another man you’ve never seen before talk over their cigars. It’s all bullshit, Bronte bragging that the whole town fears him while he acts overly friendly to the man he has hired you to murder tonight, and it takes all the restraint you have to not visibly roll your eyes. You lift your glass to your lips again, before realising it’s empty. As you turn on your heel to head back to the drinks table, you’re met with an outstretched, gloved hand, bubbling flute presented to you in its grasp. 

It’s him.

Up close, you can see how beautifully he’s cleaned up from whenever he was sketched for his poster, his moustache gelled in an upward curve, his eyes a deep auburn that a charcoal sketch could never truly capture. He’s magnificent, his presence drowning you, and you’re sure even without the formalities he’d be just as stunning, a roughened cowboy with a drawl to send you weak in the knees. 

“For you, my dear.” He offers, watching intently as you take the flute between your fingers.

“Why, thank you, sir. I never knew they hired such well dressed gentlemen at these events.” You joke, smiling almost mischievously at him before taking a sip, “You surely can’t be a guest here, they’re never this kind.”

“Afraid so, miss. Dutch van der Linde, at your service.” He takes your free hand in his, lifting your knuckles to his mouth to kiss them tenderly. The sensation travels up your arm and sends a little flutter through your stomach. Quite the gentleman, it seems.

“A pleasure, Mr. Van der Linde.”

“Please, Dutch is fine. And the pleasure is all mine.”

You offer your name in return and a shy smile, the one that often has your victims bowing to your every need while they imagine you writhing beneath them, and by the way Dutch watches you, he’s no exception. 

“Tell me, Dutch,” you oblige, “what is a fine gentleman such as yourself doing at an event like this? Are you a friend of our host?”

“No, I am a guest of Mr Bronte’s, attending on a personal invitation.” You instantly sense it, the displeasure hidden in amongst the pleasantries. You’re not at all surprised, Angelo is hardly a likeable man. 

“Ah, I see.” “You know him?” “Not personally, no,” You lie, glancing over to the man in question, who appears to be boring the ears off Dutch’s abandoned friend as he downs his near full glass of whiskey, “But everyone who’s anyone in Saint Denis knows of him. He’s… real somethin’.” You match Dutch’s indignation with an expert precision, and you don’t need to pretend one bit. 

Dutch laughs, a hearty one at that, using the gesture to take a step closer to you, “Now that we agree on, my dear…”

A comfortable silence passes between the two of you and a waiter arrives, passing Dutch a rich amber drink that he thanks him for. You grab the waiter's attention, asking for a bourbon of your own. It doesn’t go unnoticed that Dutch looks impressed.

“I can admire a woman who appreciates a fine whiskey.” He remarks, tipping his glass to you and you smirk, raising a sharpened brow,

“I can appreciate much more than a fine whiskey, Mr Van der Linde.”

The air between the two of you is electric, charged with something inexplicable yet maybe the most powerful energy you’ve ever felt.

“Is that right?” It comes out almost a growl, which you feel deep in your core. The way he’s looking at you… it’s inevitable. Mission accomplished.

You lean in closer, glancing down to the snow white flower pinned to Dutch’s lapel. Your eyes linger on the thing, so stark a contrast to the jet black suit he’s wearing, so delicate a symbol for a hardened criminal you’ve been hired to murder. 

There’s little space between the two of you now, far less than is proper, but Dutch closes it, his hot breath tickling the lobe of your ear as he whispers to you,

“How about we get a real nice room somewhere and I show you just how much I can admire a woman who appreciates a good whiskey?”

═══════☆═══════

Sending Dutch back downstairs to the saloon for drinks gives you opportunity to reach under your skirts, pulling the dagger from your crimson garter and stashing it between the bed frame and mattress. It’s a simple routine, one that works every time to not only allow you time to prepare for the job, but to prove just how wrapped around your little finger your victims always are. Ever the gentleman, as you’re learning, it only took a simple comment of thirst and a bat of your thick lashes and Dutch was out the door. He returns to you quickly, hands full with two identical glasses of neat bourbon, the door shutting behind him with a satisfying click.

“Here we are, the finest this establishment has to offer.” He says, with just a touch of bravado as he goes to hand you the crystal glass. Your hand brushes with his own skin, tanned from what you assume to be hours out in the sun, and a jolt of electricity shoots up your arm, scattering your whole body with goosebumps. With strenuous effort, you collect yourself fast enough to thank Dutch, before letting that comfortable silence settle between the tiny space between your two bodies again. You’re so close to him you can smell the distinct cigar smoke and liquor burn on his breath, feel the energy buzzing off him. One deep breath and your supple chest would be pressed right against his hardened one. 

The golden liquid burns over your tongue and down your throat, but not nearly as much as your skin does under Dutch’s touch when he runs a thumb over your bottom lip. It feels as though your entire body heats from the contact, the only respite from the fever his contact elicits being the golden rings adorning his fingers, pressing up against your jaw when he cups the side of your face. It stops your heart, you’re sure of it.

“You, my dear, are exquisite.” He whispers tenderly.

In your line of work, there is violence. There is pain and fire and yes, sometimes passion, but never tenderness. But when Dutch van der Linde’s eyes roam over you, it feels different. Like he sees you, instead of seeking for whatever it is he’s looking for. They’re all looking for something, and they all seem to think you have it, but not Dutch… even if there is the most devilish grin tugging at the corner of his lips and a glint in his eye that tells you to be careful.

Your lips don’t meet, they collide, with a deafening crash that vibrates the earth below. Both yours and Dutch’s glasses are discarded on the table beside the four poster bed as you require both hands to grasp at his satin waistcoat while he reaches around your waist to pull you flush against him.

Every inch of him is solid, his hands moulding you around his frame as his tongue requests- no, demands entrance to your mouth. You’re happy to oblige, parting your lips so that he can run the muscle along your bottom lip, eliciting a real, sensual moan from deep within you. Most of the time, you feign interest and want and pleasure, using every tool at your disposal to have your victims as putty in your hands. Tonight, it would seem you have to fake nothing, feeling more like putty yourself, folding and sculpting around Dutch’s thick, strong fingers. 

Dutch growls, low and gravelly, and you feel it vibrate every part of you, leaving little cracks all over the shields you’ve grown so used to wielding. The tremors reach your knees and you have to put extra effort into not letting them buckle. He invades every sense, a smoky, powerful force that for a moment you worry you’ll never be rid of. It’s normally so easy to detach yourself from these men, seeing their demise as the only thing standing between you and the continuance of the life of luxury you’ve grown so accustomed to, but right now it takes everything you can to not fear a future haunted by Dutch’s ghost. It’s… strange, this attachment formed so quickly, so unexpectedly that you’re almost certain the only way to prevent it is to kill him now before anything else can happen. But you just can’t bring yourself to do it… you need him in this moment, need to take something from a man for yourself for once, instead of for your slimy Italian master. It’s a mistake, you know it is, but it’s one you can’t stop, like a train barreling towards you with broken breaks. The collision is going to hurt, but you’ll be damned if you don’t bask in the feeling of every bone in your body shattering for this moment, every speck of your being destroyed just for an evening. If your blackened soul must be broken, at least it’s your choice. And this is your choice. Dutch van der Linde is your choice.

His hand burns through the silk on your back, searing your skin that itches for a release of its confines. He never breaks your hungry, needy kiss as his expert fingers make quick work of your bodice, pushing your dress off your shoulders until it falls at your feet like a scarlet pool of blood. Your chemise is just as deep a red as your dress and the stain covering your lips, as is the garter squeezing your thigh. Dutch takes a step back, drinking you in like a fine glass of wine. Under his gaze, you burn all over again, feeling the heat pulsing in your very core, your clit throbbing and cunt weeping for him. You’re not sure you’ve ever felt a yearning so intense that you feel you might combust if you don’t have this man inside you soon. 

“As I said…” he growls, tongue licking over his own bottom lip this time, “Exquisite.” 

Your exhale is shaky from the sheer effort to stay still, to not pounce on Dutch and take him. Somehow, you take a steady step towards him, out of the pile of silk discarded on the floor, reaching back to the buttons on his waistcoat to pull them apart. Your neck cranes up slightly to meet Dutch’s intense stare, catching him flick his eyes down to watch you undress him. Your bodies are so close now you can feel his hard cock pressing against you, branding you, even hotter than the rest of him. Even through his breeches, his size is evident. Intimidating, but you can all but feel yourself drooling at the thought of taking him all. Patience growing thin, your fingers speed up to finish their job, pushing both waistcoat and crisp shirt off Dutch’s shoulders and onto the floor, revealing a strong, sturdy chest underneath. You run both hands over it with a featherlight touch, feeling him shudder at the contact. 

Looking back up to meet his eye, tracing gentle circles over his skin, you whisper, “As are you, Mister Van der Linde…”

“Oh, my dear,” Dutch catches your chin between his fingers, squeezing gently to pull you closer, until your lips are just a hair away from each other. Your breath hitches in your throat, lips parted and waiting for him. A gasp escapes when he runs a finger of his free hand up your inner thigh, pressing firmly against your slit through your lingerie, the sensation shooting up your spine, “I think we’re past the formalities, don’t you? Dutch is fine.”

You swallow down the moan building deep down, attempting to hold onto whatever little decorum you can before you crumble beneath this outlaw. When Dutch removes his finger from against your heat, it takes everything to not whimper from the loss of him. Still holding your face, he presses a kiss to your lips, inhaling you in through his nose before pulling away, glancing down to the space between the two of you.

“Kneel for me, beautiful.”

It takes you less than a second to obey, feeling the plush of the carpet against your knees. Your hands are instantly on Dutch’s belt, unbuckling it with hands that are almost vibrating with anticipation. His trousers don’t even fall past his hips before his cock springs out and you almost gasp again. It’s huge, thick and long, twitching and pulsing all for you. A beautiful sight, truly. 

Both hands look tiny in comparison, wrapping around his base with a slight squeeze that has Dutch groaning already. Your eyes lock onto his, never leaving them as you lick a line up his shaft all the way to his rosy head, the salty spend dancing on your tongue a sure sign he’s as desperate for you as you are him. When you take him in your mouth, cheeks hollowing as you get as much of his length in as you can, Dutch grips into your hair, cursing through his teeth as you start to bob up and down. 

Using your mouth and hands in tandem, you work up and down his shaft, licking across a protruding vein that causes another growl to leave Dutch’s lips and charge the air with a near blinding want. His cock pumps and swells even more so in your mouth, and when you take a deep breath and push all of his length in and down your throat, Dutch lets out a visceral groan sure to reach the ears of the devil himself.

“Fuck, just like that, angel, just like that…” He whispers to you, watching as little tears fall down your cheeks, mixing with the spit escaping the corners of your lips. Dutch holds your face between his large palms, fucking into your throat. It isn’t until your lungs are burning for air that he relents, his cock sliding out of your mouth soaked in your saliva, a bead still clinging to your chin. He wipes it away with his thumb, guiding you to your feet with an extended hand. You gasp as he lifts you into the air and all you can do is wrap your legs around his waist. His cock nudges against your lingerie, the thin, scarlet silk the only barrier between the two of you. You’re writhing, desperate for him as his tongue licks the roof of your mouth, dominating you. 

Dutch throws you onto the bed and you land with a squeak, spreading your legs wide to allow him to crawl over you, propping himself up on his elbows. His eyes roam over you, pulling the straps of your chemise down to expose your breasts. He continues to undress you, each second stretching out to an eternity until you’re bare underneath him. There’s a fire burning in his eyes and it scorches you. You feel the fire spread over every inch of you, especially when he dips down to lick a line from your nipple, across your chest, down your stomach until he is hovering above your cunt. His breath tickles your soaked skin and it takes everything you have to restrain and be patient. The devil is merciful, and after torturing you for what feels like hours, watching you writhe and whine, Dutch delves into your folds, taking your clit in his mouth and sucking on it gently. You scream, hands instantly raking into his jet black hair, nails scratching his scalp.

He hums in content, as if tasting a delicacy, and it vibrates your inner thighs. Your eyes roll back, jaw dropping as your back arches for him. 

“Oh, God…” you moan, relenting your grip just a little when Dutch stops to look at you, eyebrow raised and smirk tugging his glistening lips,

“Now, dear, I said Dutch is fine.”

He doesn’t give you much time to digest his cocky words, plunging a finger deep inside you, finding that spot that makes you go dizzy and curling against it. You whine and purr, bucking your hips up to show Dutch what you need. He takes your silent command and submits to it, bowing his head to take your clit in between his teeth. It tethers you between pain and pleasure, threatening to tear you apart from the inside out. One finger becomes two, pumping into your core and you feel yourself hurtling towards climax faster than you ever have in your life. There’s a burning on your inner thigh from his moustache while he laps up your juices, kissing and nipping and sucking until you’re sure you’re going to break and shatter all over the hotel room floor.

“Oh, God, Dutch- fuck, Dutch, yes Dutch- I- I’m gonna-” 

The whine you let out when Dutch withdraws his fingers from you is downright tortured. You look up at him, the question of why written all over your face. He simply smirks, sliding those glistening fingers in between his lips and licking your juices clean off them. 

“Tell me what you want, beautiful.” 

The sweet endearment softens your frown, his demand driving you even wilder. It isn’t a matter of want anymore, you need him. Right at this moment, you’re gasping for air, and Dutch van der Linde is your only oxygen. 

“Everything,” you breathe out, “God, Dutch, I need you, please…”

You earn a satisfied grin as Dutch begins to crawl over you again, the length of his body consuming you wholly. “Hm… I like it when you beg for me, my dear.” 

When he lines himself up to your entrance, the feeling of his tip brushing far too gentle past your clit, you’re truly dizzy with need. You reach up to Dutch, nails digging deep into the flesh of his shoulders as if he's your only tether to the earth itself. Your mewls guide him in like a siren's call, filling you more than you ever thought possible. Though slowly, Dutch slides all the way in, until you’re connected by the pelvis, the head of his cock prodding gorgeously into that swollen sweet spot of yours.

“F-Fuck…” you gasp out, concurrently to Dutch’s carnal groan. He fills you to the brim, and you squeeze his throbbing cock perfectly. It’s unlike anything you’ve ever felt, breaching past the barriers of what you once considered sex to be. When he steadily withdraws, pushing all the way back in, you see stars, scattering across the ceiling of the hotel room, falling into the faint freckles you’re sure nobody ever notices on Dutch’s cheeks. The pure lust ignited in his eyes burns hot as he begins to move, thrusting in and out at an excruciatingly deliberate pace.

When he picks up a little speed, you feel his hand brush against your cheek, finger tracing your jawline from ear to chin and back again. His expression as he fucks you is so intense, and there’s a certain darkness clouding it all that scares you. Dutch is otherworldly, and your mind briefly casts to under your back, where that little knife lays waiting. Your confidence in completing your mission is faltering, picturing golden ichor bleeding from Dutch’s chest in lieu of blood. He is so far removed from anybody Bronte has ever had you kill, so divine an energy that you’re starting to wonder what your failure would mean for you. It has never been an option before, but the possibility wanders into your mind as if it belongs there. 

Your whines and moans harmonise with Dutch’s groans and curses, the room filled with purely obscene, visceral vibrations. He fucks into you, one hand gripping onto the sheets, the other cupping the side of your face, slowly snaking downwards to cover your neck. He doesn’t put any pressure on yet, but can surely feel the thrumming of your pulse against his palm. The possessive way his hand covers your whole throat makes your heart skip a beat, your now untouched clit twitching at the thought of Dutch restricting your airways. 

“God, you are so beautiful…” Dutch purrs, teasing a hint of pressure on your jugular. He’s getting faster now, just faintly more erratic. That darkness is flaring in his eyes, spreading over his whole expression as he begins to squeeze at your windpipe. It's gentle at first, just slightly cutting off the blood flow to your head, making your cheeks flush red. Your lips part in gasps, less than an inch away from Dutch’s as you feel your orgasm building again, no external stimulation needed. You’re so close now, nirvana within reach, Dutch’s hold getting ever stronger. 

“So beautiful… such a shame.” He growls, not relenting his now iron-grip to give you the air to consider what he just said. You try to speak, try to ask what he means, but you suddenly can’t. He’s clenching too tight on your neck. It hurts, but coupled with the dizzying lack of breath, it’s only furthering your journey over the edge. Your vision is blackening at the corners, an unknown fear striking you in the chest. He isn’t letting up, and you’re not sure if you even want him to, but you have no idea where this is going now. The energy in the air is changing faster than you can keep up with, your chest feeling hollow as your futile attempts at breath go ignored.

“A-A shame?” You just about manage, Dutch still pounding relentlessly, gloriously into your tight cunt. 

“Oh, my dear…” he squeezes once more, a bruising grip, and it hurts so much that your hands fly up to claw at his wrist. It’s unavailing, Dutch far too strong to be deterred by the little scratches your nails are leaving on his skin, “That you’re trying to kill me, darling.”

Your eyes fly wide open, pupils shrinking to barely a drop in a sea of panic. Your hands barely make it an inch towards reaching for the dagger under the mattress before Dutch grabs them with the hand not already holding you, pinning both wrists above your head. He’s still fucking you hard, and it still feels incredible despite the pure terror coursing through your veins. 

“Oh, little vedova nera, did you really think it would be so easy?”

It’s hardly even a struggle, your scratching is no match for Dutch’s strength. You can’t move, can barely breathe, and you’re genuinely terrified he’s going to kill you before you even get the chance to fight back. His grasp relents, just enough to allow a small, struggled gulp of breath, but it’s seemingly only so you can hear his next words before blacking out.

“Now here’s what's gonna happen…” He growls at you, not once faltering from his pace. Despite everything, you’re still so close, on the verge of a blinding climax that may actually kill you. “That pretty little pussy of yours is going to cum all over my cock, and then you’re gonna go back to our friend Mr. Bronte and tell him just how well Dutch van der Linde fucked his woman and lived to tell the tale. Got it, my pretty little thing?”

Your heart is pounding, and you’re certain you only have seconds of consciousness left in you, but you manage a frantic nod, your nails leaving reddened crescent moons all over the skin of Dutch’s wrist. You’ll do anything, the terrifying part being that you’re not sure if you’re begging for your life or your death, your petite mort, if you will. 

“Good girl.”

He releases your throat, instead squeezing your cheeks together harshly, forcing your lips into a pout. The blood rushes everywhere, sending you hurtling over the edge, clenching on Dutch’s cock and keeping your promise and then some. Tears are streaming down your cheeks from the intensity of everything, screams falling from your lips as best they can through Dutch’s hands. He’s groaning loudly, vibrating your being as the two of you cum together, Dutch pumping rope upon rope of his spend deep inside you. Time stretches, seconds becoming minutes becoming an eternity falling through the stratosphere as waves of white hot pleasure mix stunningly with the pain you feel all over. 

Dutch finishes with one last thrust, so hard you’re sure you’ll never recover from him. You’ve never felt anything like this, never felt an orgasm wrack through every atom like this one, pumped through your body with a heart running on pure fear. 

Mere seconds ago you were convinced Dutch was going to end your life, but when he pulls out of you and removes all contact from your panting body, the loss is immense. By the time you manage to come around, your arms finally having enough integrity to prop yourself up, he’s already dressing himself, pulling up his pants and buckling his belt. You can’t think, let alone speak. What would you even say? The tear marks falling down your cheeks are inky black from your makeup, but you let them fall as the realisation of what just happened hits with enough force to shatter you, just as you predicted. 

You’re both silent as Dutch dresses, and all you can do is sit and cover yourself with the sheet on the bed. When he reaches the door, he stops, hand resting on the doorframe as he glances over his shoulder to you, “Tell Bronte I said hello, won’t you?”

And he walks out of the hotel room, leaving you alone, dripping with his spend, wondering what the hell you’re supposed to do now.

[lovebeinaprincessworld]

Possibilities - Five

(Felix Volturi x reader)

Masterlist

Parts: 1 2 3 4 5

Second to last part! Important Info: The vampire children don’t age as quickly as in the books in my fanfic, because i hate that Renesmee is grown after a year, like she needs a childhood it’s weird!

Description: Coming back from your honeymoon, Bella has some unbelievable news that also effect you.

Warnings: Angst, blood, talks about abortion, pregnancy, gore (Birth scene)

5987 words

The moment you stepped into the castle you were enveloped by two thin but strong arms. „I’m so glad you’re back!“, Heidi smiled at you and you almost got a little emotional when you realized you started having real friends here, even while still being human. „We were only gone for a week“, you laughed and the both of you followed Felix as he carried your luggage to your room, „but I’m glad to be back too.“

„What did I miss?“, you started ascending the stairs to your floor. „Not much“, Heidi answered, „oh we have a new secretary.“ You grimaced a little, knowing exactly what that meant. „But tell me about Switzerland!“, she tried to change the topic, stepping into yours and Felix room after you.

„I’ll let the masters know we’re back safe amore mio“, Felix smiled, kissing your cheek softly and closing the door behind him on the way out. Heidi pulled you to the couch and you know what the look she gave you meant. „It was great“, you grinned a little flustered, and judging by her smirk she knew exactly what you meant.

„So you said yes? And he said yes too?“, she wiggled her eyebrows suggestively at the end making you giggle. „Yes I did and yes he did…multiple times“, you grinned and showed her the ring and she smiled, „did you know he was going to propose?“ She rolled her eyes dramatically and put your hand back down. „Everyone knew, he couldn’t shut up about it with Demetri and naturally everyone heard“, she laughed and you shook your head in amusement.

„Can you do me a favor Heidi?“, you made sure the door was shut before telling her. „Of course, you okay?“, she looked a little concerned. „I have been feeling kind of weird the last few days, don’t know maybe I caught the flu or something but I don’t want Felix to worry. Could you run to the pharmacy for me later? Felix would for sure freak out if he would come buying medicine with me“, you rolled your eyes and she giggled at the thought of the big bad executioner fussing over his sick mate.

„Yeah sure, I need to meet Aro in ten minutes but after that, I’ll run to the pharmacy for you!“, she got up and squeezed your shoulder. „Thanks a lot“, you nodded. „Of course, make sure you rest a little!“, she grinned before she was gone. Sighing you sank into the sofa, finally being able to not act as if you are perfectly well. You hadn’t been able to sleep very the last days. Your stomach being a little upset and you carefully rubbed it when you noticed it was acting up again.

You thought it would go away, but suddenly you felt the bile rise in your throat and jumped up, thankfully making it to the toilet in time. Shit, you probably really caught the flu or ate something bad, damn. After brushing your teeth, you laid down on the couch, spotting your bag and you decided to check your phone. There hadn’t been any reception up in the mountains and you didn’t take it out on the way here. Maybe your cousin had some news about her honeymoon.

And damn she seemed to have a lot to say, you had several missed calls not only from her but the whole Cullen family and about a billion text messages. ‚Call me as fast as you can!‘ Now you were seriously worried. You immediately sat back up and called her, your heart speeding up at all the horrible scenarios running through your mind. „(Y/N)? Thank god you finally called back!“, she sounded exhausted and extremely worried.

„Yeah we were on vacation and I didn’t…Bella is everything alright? You okay?“, you asked with a frown on your face. „Yes and no…are you alone? Can anyone hear you?“, she asked and you were wondering what the hell was going on. „Yes I’m alone! Can you please tell me what’s going on?“, you were getting antsy. „Okay before I tell you I need to ask you something“, she was still being ominous, and you could hear some rustling before Edwards voice came through the phone.

„What she’s trying to ask is: Have you and Felix been having sex?“, you were momentarily stunned by the annoyed and cold edge Edwards voice had, wondering what the hell was going on in Forks. And you were also stunned by the question itself. „Uhm…what?“, you stuttered around uncertainly. „(Y/N)“, Edward had a sense of urgency in his voice that gave you the chills, „answer the question.“

„Yeah we had sex last week“, you blushed furiously but told him nonetheless. God this was weird. „Shit“, he cursed and there was rustling again. „(Y/N) this is Carlisle“, yet another voice came through the phone and you were freaking out. „Carlisle what the hell is going on here“, your voice was shaking and you were anxiously grabbing onto the pillow in your lap. „Have you been feeling sick the past few days?“, he asked and your heart sank. How could he possibly know that.

„Yes“, you whispered, not being able to form more words. „Okay I need you to listen to me carefully right now“, he started and the more he explained the paler you got.

————————

After you hung up with the Cullens you sat in silence for a few minutes trying to calm your racing heart. Pregnant? You still couldn’t wrap your head around how this could’ve possibly happened. Vampires weren’t supposed to be able to procreate. But from what you were told, a very pregnant Bella and a possibly pregnant You were the evidence. And it didn’t seem to be a safe and easy pregnancy either.

Taking a deep breath you reminded yourself that you couldn’t even be sure if you actually were pregnant too, Carlisle told you to ask one of the Vampires in the coven to listen for a heartbeat - or get a pregnancy test, but that would take longer. But who on earth would you ask? You knew Felix and you knew that if he would find out how dangerous the pregnancy would be, he would probably want you to get rid of the baby, he would never risk your life.

But you weren’t sure that’s what you wanted. You had always wanted a family, but after meeting and falling for Felix you knew that wasn’t an option so you had accepted that, content with it just being the two of you for eternity. Actually having a real opportunity to have a child with him now? It felt more like a miracle than the curse Carlisle described it as. And considering Bella didn’t get rid of her baby either, she seemed to think the same.

So you needed to have someone on your side before telling Felix, and the one person that came to mind right now was Heidi. Hopefully you could catch her before she left for the pharmacy - you probably didn’t need the flu medication anymore anyway. Trying to calm your racing heart and trembling hands, you slowly stood up and stepped out into the corridor.

Your mind was racing with all the things that could and probably would happen in the next few days, while simultaneously trying to find Heidi in the maze this castle was. But that train of thought was suddenly interrupted when you encountered Jane. You two weren’t crazy close, but she was nicer to you than to most other people. „(Y/N)? You don’t look good, are you alright?“, she asked and you knew if it was bad enough for her to pick up on, it was bad.

„I’m-“, you started but your voice gave in and you could feel her grip your arm and lead you to a room nearby, sitting you down on the couch there. „Do you want me to get water or something?“, she asked, clearly unsure of how to handle a human that seems sick. „No, no it’s fine…Jane can you do me a favor?“, you needed to know if you were pregnant, you couldn’t wait for Heidi.

„Sure“, she nodded, but she seemed a little perplexed. „Jane I…got a call from Bella earlier“, you started, not really sure how to explain this situation. Jane just looked at you in a way that said she couldn’t give less fucks about your cousin. „Bella is pregnant, and before you say something“, you stopped her when she openend her mouth, „the Cullens are one hundred percent sure it’s Edwards. Trust me I asked that.“

„But that’s not possible“, she said after a few moments. „I thought so too, but the way Carlisle and Edward talked about it convinced me…I mean that and I experience…“, you took a deep breath, „I experience the same symptoms Bella did in the beginning.“ Jane stared at you blankly for a few moments.

„You’re pregnant? And it’s Felix’s?“, she asked when she managed to wrap her head around what was happening. „I actually don’t know yet and that’s why I’ve asked you for a favor…Jane can you hear a second heartbeat?“, you reluctantly asked, you would label the both of you as something close to friends, but you still weren’t sure how this would play out.

She stared at you with those deep red eyes for a moment longer before they dropped to your stomach and she concentrated. „There is a second heartbeat“, she announced after a few moments, her normally cold and controlled mask cracking a little in shock and wonder. You on the other hand didn’t know how to feel, you were happy on one side and excited but also scared shitless of this dangerous pregnancy and the reactions of the others.

„Shit“, you mumbled, a hand automatically resting on your still flat stomach. „This is crazy“, Jane said, taking an unnecessary breath. „Jane, can you…I need someone to be on my side“, you whispered, „Carlisle told me if I want to keep this baby, it will be a dangerous pregnancy. They didn’t give me too much details but they said Bella isn’t doing well and if I am pregnant I should go to Forks as fast as possible.“

Jane always picking up on more than you thought, knew what you meant. „You think he will want you to get rid of the baby“, she stated and you nodded meekly. „I just need someone to back me up“, you admitted already stressed about telling Felix. „You’re my friend, of course I will be on your side“, she told you and you smiled when she said you were friends. „Thanks Jane“, you squeezed her cold hand for a moment before sighing.

„We should probably tell Heidi too, and let her know she doesn’t have to go to the pharmacy for me - it’s not the flu after all“, you told Jane and she agreed. The two of you thought it would be best that she’d go searching for Heidi and you would wait for Felix in your room - gathering the courage to tell him what you thought was a blessing, and what you anticipated he would think of as a curse.

—————————

„Mia cara, forgive me for taking so long“, you winced a little when he suddenly appeared in the room. The smile you gave him didn’t seem to convince him, because he sat down next to you with an unhappy frown. „What’s wrong?“, he pulled you into his arms, so you were sitting next to him in his embrace. And for the first time since you accepted your bond, you weren’t entirely sure this was the best place to be for telling news with the seriousness of yours.

You gently kissed his jaw, his arms pulling you into him a little tighter and you took a deep breath. „Felix there’s something I have to tell you“, you started and he brushed some hair out of your face in concern, listening intently. „You know you can tell me everything“, he reassured you, taking your hand and kissing it softly.

“I got a call from Bella”, you said with a shaky voice, “and…no one knows how, but…but she’s pregnant.” The confusion on his face was obvious. “It’s Edwards”, you added, and he shook his head in denial. “What? Edward can’t…”, he started, but the serious look in your eyes made him pause, “it’s not…it’s not possible. It can’t be…right?”

You were silent for another moment, giving him the time to process it. “Carlisle doesn’t know how, but he is sure that Bella is carrying Edwards child”, you whispered, the arm that embraced you was tense, and Felix face was frozen. He seemed to realize where you were going, his eyes wandering to your stomach in shock.

The silence was palpable for a few moments, before he closed his eyes and took a deep, unnecessary breath. “You’re…”, he stopped, not able to make his mouth form the word. “Pregnant”, you finished, unsure what he would think. He didn’t even know the pregnancy would be incredibly dangerous, but maybe he didn’t want a child at all. He gave up on that millennia ago, and what if he didn’t even like kids? God, you were a nervous wreck.

“Say something”, you pleaded, your nerves slowly getting the best of you, your eyes filling with tears. He opened his eyes when you spoke, his hand immediately cradling your cheek when he saw your wet eyes. “I’m sorry amore, it’s just…a lot to wrap my head around”, he sighed, kissing your forehead in comfort, “for two millennia I haven’t thought about ever…” He let the sentence hang in the air.

“I’m…suprised, but I’m happy”, he smiled a little and seemed less tense, but when you didn’t match his positive reaction, instead looking guilty, he frowned again. “There’s more”, he realized, his expression sobering up in a second and he went rigid again, “tell me.” You sighed, closing your eyes for a second before biting the bullet. “Bella’s really…sick”, your voice was quiet, but you were sure he heard you anyway, “they wouldn’t tell me exactly what’s going on, but they…”, you broke off, swallowing dryly.

“Tell me”, he urged you worriedly, the crease between his brows marring his otherwise perfect face. You were speechless, not knowing how to tell him or how he would react. Your silence seemed to imply how bad it really was. “Tell. Me.”, his eyes got darker and his voice deeper, his anger and fear of losing you obvious. “They said she might not make it”, you whispered, and that seemed to be the last straw, because suddenly he wasn’t next to you anymore, and the coffee table was thrown against the opposite wall, breaking into a thousand pieces.

Your tears finally spilled over, and quicker than you could see Heidi and Jane were standing in the room between you and Felix. “You need to calm down Felix”, Heidi told him, your angry mate throwing around more furniture in rage, making you gasp. “Felix!”, Janes sharp voice cut through the room, “you’re scaring her.”

That made him pause, his back to you, but he was still incredibly upset. “We need to tell the masters as soon as possible, so we can get her to the Cullens - she needs Carlisle”, Heidi tried to rationalize and Felix seemed to agree. “Yes you’re right, he needs to get rid of the baby”, his voice had an edge to it you hadn’t heard before and you shivered.

“Felix wait, please”, you finally found your voice again, still upset that this has played out exactly as bad as you thought it would. “What’s there to wait for? We need to get you to Forks”, he didn’t meet your eyes, didn’t even turn in your direction. “Felix I…I want to keep the baby”, you whispered, kind off glad that Jane and Heidi were there.

It was silent for a moment, and then he turned around, the pain in his eyes when he met your teary gaze, made your heart hurt. “I won’t lose you”, his voice was firm, his eyes hard and then he was gone. “That couldn’t have gone any worse”, you sighed, sinking back into the couch and hoping for the best.

—————————

When you arrived in the throne room, it seemed the kings and everyone else in the guard were already informed by Felix - considering the way they were eyeing you suspiciously. You were glad for Heidi and Jane walking next to you. “Dear (Y/N)”, Aro was grinning the way he always did when he was excited, “we heard rather impossible news.”

“It’s true”, you said, your voice shaky and you were sure the vampires could see that you had cried previously, “Carlisle told me Bella is in the same condition, just further along, and Jane and Heidi confirmed I’m…pregnant.” It felt weird saying it out loud infront of them. The kings, Felix, Demetri, Alec, Santiago and Renata were there and you felt exposed.

“Yes, we can hear the heartbeat”, Caius seemed unhappy, “but that doesn’t confirm it is fathered by Felix.” That moment was the only time you wished Aro could read your thoughts, just to confirm your were telling the truth. “I didn’t…I would never…”, you couldn’t even say it, much less ever do it. You would never cheat on Felix. “Now, now Caius. Don’t accuse her of something like that”, Aro tutted and smiled at you, which wasn’t really comforting. Felix was standing next to Demetri with a stoic look on his face.

“Let me call Carlisle, hear what he is saying. And you should go pack already”, Aro announced, “We will take the jet in the evening, Demetri, Jane, Alec, Santiago and myself will come.” You just nodded, the nausea from the pregnancy, the fight with your mate and the whole situation just exhausted you. Heidi grabbed your elbow to guide you to your room, when suddenly Marcus spoke up. “I will come too”, his voice as unused and emotionless as always, but it cut through the air like a knife and made everybody go still. “Alright. Caius will stay here, and manage everything”, Aro agreed after a moment of surprise.

You were wondering briefly why Marcus wanted to come, but Heidi was already stirring you away from the scene, probably to help you pack. She knew you were in no condition to do that. Felix stayed behind, and maybe it was better to give the situation some rest.

He watched you leave the room, his face a stoic mask, but his thoughts all over the place in panic. He couldn’t lose you, he only just found you. He was sure it was his child you were pregnant with, he trusted you and wasn’t the least bit worried you cheated. And while the thought of you carrying his child made him excited, the risk it brought killed the joy in his heart instantly. “What is it Felix?”, Aro saw the way his eyes were looking at you in pain rather than joy.

Felix turned around after a moment, not being able to say it out loud, say how you could die if you decided to keep the baby. So he held his hand out for Aro to take, the mind reading vampire not hesitating. “That’s rather unfortunate”, Aro sighed and Felix squeezed his eyes shut in agony for a moment, “it seems that if our dear (Y/N) decides to keep the baby, it is quiet possible that she will not make it.” Demetris face fell a little, feeling worried about his best friend - and about you, who had also become dear to him.

——————————

You were sunk into a big chair in the jet, hiding in the corner of the cabin. The others were at the front, just Jane sitting with you. You were trying to let the constant humming of the machine lull you to sleep, but you weren’t feeling your best and you were missing your mate. You didn’t want to pressure him, and you did understand why he was so angry, but you still missed him.

You had had such a perfect honeymoon and now that bubble had burst, you thought with a few silent tears running down your face, staring out the airplane window. It was mostly dark in the cabin, so you were confident no one saw your tears, but Jane gently grabbed your hand, squeezing it reassuringly. You looked over a little blushing, and your breath hitched when you saw Felix standing there.

Your eyes jumped to Jane who smiled a little, letting go of your hand and giving her seat to Felix, who sat down next to you silently. He was carrying a blanket, and lifted up the armrest seperating the both of you, before spreading the blanket and finally meeting your eyes in expectation. New tears welled up in your eyes when you realized he wanted you in his arms, the thought of him still trying to make sure you’re okay even while being angry with you made you even more sure this mate thing definitely picked the right one for you.

You gently scooted over into his embrace, and he immediately wrapped you in the blanket, pulling you tightly into his chest, your head in his neck and you felt like you could finally relax your tense muscles. There were no words exchanged between you too, you knew he was still angry, but you also knew he loved you. That was enough for now.

——————————

It felt weird, driving through the once familiar town that you left behind. You would’ve thought that it would ignite some kind of longing or sadness, but the only thing you felt was fondness for the memories you made there, happy with your new life in Italy. You were sitting next to Felix, who was still holding your hand but you two hadn’t talked since your fight in Volterra. God, you hoped Carlisle had news for you that helped you calm your mate down.

The car turned onto the familiar sideroad to the Cullen house and eventhough you knew Bella was really weak, you were still happy to see everyone again. Felix helped you out of the car, the others already standing neatly organized and perfectly still infront of the house. He protectively wrapped an arm around your waist and wanted to lead you to the others, but the door opening stopped you.

“Alice!”, you smiled and walked up to the door before anyone could try to stop you, your mate grumbling unhappily behind you. “(Y/N)”, you could tell she was nervous because of the Volturi, but she greeted you warmly anyway, embracing you before Carlisle joined her at the entry.

Suddenly Aro was standing next to you, Alice pulling you to the side gently. “Hello Aro, it’s been a while”, Carlisle greeted his old acquaintance with a polite smile.

“Carlisle”, Aro nodded and held out his hand immediately, making Carlisle reach out without hesitation. “So it’s true”, Aro was in awe, looking between the two Cullens with wide eyes. “It is”, Alice said a little coldly, your eyes meeting your mates, who looked even unhappier.

Felix didn’t like the way you were standing so far away from him, his protective instincts dialed up even more now that you were carrying his child - he still couldn’t believe it, his child. “Why don’t you come inside, there is a lot we need to talk about”, Carlisle stepped aside to let them in and Felix suddenly smelled the Shapeshifter. He was at your side in an instant, holding your waist possessively.

“There’s one of the dogs”, Demetri growled in his stead, the others not looking to happy either, except Marcus who looked as lethargic as ever. “Jacob’s here?”, you were surprised, after Bella married Edward it seemed that he wouldn’t be willing to stick around anymore. “Yes, there is some trouble with the pack and he decided to…stand up for Bella”, Carlisle led you up the stairs and into the big living room, where Rosalie and Jake were blocking your view of Bella.

The other Cullens were also standing in the room, greeting you with a smile. “(Y/N)?”, a weak Bella asked from behind her guards who reluctantly stepped aside when she asked them to. You tried to hide your shock behind a soft smile, approaching your Cousin and sitting next to her carefully.

She looked like death to be honest, and from glancing at the Volturi they were nearly as shocked as you. Felix looked pained and you knew it was because of what he thought would happen to you too. “I missed you”, you said, instead of asking her how she was - which would’ve been a stupid question. “Missed you too”, she smiled a little, taking your hand in hers, “I’m glad you’re here.”

“Would you follow me into my office?”, Carlisle interrupted the moment and you squeezed Bella’s hand once more before standing up again and followed the Volturi into Carlisle’s study, catching a glimpse of a tortured looking Edward in the corner. So he blamed himself too, just like Felix. Your mate was once again holding your waist, as if leaving you out of his sight would make you disappear.

Once the door was closed and everyone was settled, Carlisle started to explain what they knew, which wasn’t much. “We didn’t know it could happen, but it did. And we still don’t know much more, neither the ultrasound nor needles or anything else can penetrate the uterus safely. We only know it grows rapidly, draining Bella. It is already stronger than any human - It’s breaking her ribs. Just two days ago we had the idea that it probably needs blood, which Bella is drinking and it helps a bit, but she’s already too far for it to make any real difference. She’s so weak and the fetus so strong that we don’t know if she will make it - I’m not sure the venom could save her.”

The grip Felix had on you was tense and rigid, the silence in the room deafening. “This is all very extraordinary”, Marcus said and you couldn’t even really be shocked by him being the first one to say anything. “I’m glad you got here so quick. If you want to keep the baby I hope starting to drink blood immediately will help, because in theory the fetus won’t drain you as much. But if you don’t want to-“, Carlisle added, but you interrupted him.

“I want to keep it”, you said, you were sure it would be alright if you started with the blood early. This was your only chance to have a baby of your own, you would regret it forever if you didn’t try. This was your choice, a choice every woman should have and you would decide to keep the baby.

„Okay“, Carlilse looked a little pitying, nodding and stating that he needed to at least examine you, even if the ultrasound couldn’t show anything. So you followed him to another room, Felix only following you when you looked at him with a questioning look. You felt horrible for being the reason for his tortured expression.

After feeling your abdomen and asking a few questions, Carlilse gave Felix and you a moment alone, telling you to come to the kitchen after to get a cup of blood. God, that sounded so weird. „Say something, tell me what you’re thinking“, you whispered gripping his hand gently. He closed his eyes for a moment, taking a deep breath.

„I did this to you“, he finally answered, making your heart hurt. „You didn’t do anything to me Felix. It takes two people, and I know you don’t see it that way right now…but this seems more like a miracle than a curse“, you spoke quietly, not wanting this to turn into a fight again. „You’re right, this isn’t a curse, it’s worse. I’m going to lose you (Y/N)“, you were sure if he could cry he would, and you pressed your hand to his cheek.

„You won’t, okay? If I started drinking blood right away, I won’t get as bad as Bella, and I can make it“, you reassured him. „I hope you’re right mia cara…I hope you’re right“, he sighed and pulled you into his arms. „You…you won’t leave right?“, you whispered, just because you wanted to keep the baby doesn’t mean you weren’t scared, and you needed him to be with you through this.

He pulled back with a look of shock on his face. „(Y/N) I would never leave you. You’re my mate, my wife, I love you and nothing will ever change that. I might not agree with your decision entirely - don’t get me wrong having a child with you would be great if it wasn’t for the high risk - but I will stand with you through it all Love“, he promised making you just nod and bury your head in his chest. „I love you too“, you whispered, his cold lips leaving a soft kiss on your head.

————————————

Carlilse handed you the cup of blood and you eyed it warily, Bella already drinking hers, but most of the vampires in the room (the ones that could handle the blood) were watching your reaction. Felix was sitting next to you, Demetri trying to hide his humorous expression and Jane and Alec looking at you with genuine curiosity. They had never seen a human drink blood before, and even the Masters and Santiago were intrigued.

This was so weird, drinking blood that came out of someone else gave you a quirky feeling your stomach, but before you could think too much about it, you took a sip and forced down the gulp of cold thick liquid. It tasted really metallic and you were shocked at how easily Bella could drink that, maybe because she was further along in her pregnancy.

„That’s…disgusting“, you grimaced and looked at your cousin, a few of the vampires chuckling, „how can you drink that?“ It was more a rhetoric question, your cousin rolling her eyes with a smile before continuing her drink. You thought for a moment, before deciding the best plan of action. „Okay I’m gonna pretend I’m at a party and have to chug this“, you took of the lid, the deep red liquid sloshing inside the cup and took a deep breath, before chugging the cup in record time.

„That was…impressive“, Demetri grinned, and you wiped the corners of your mouth, shuddering a little because of the aftertaste. „How do you know how to chug like that? You’re not even 21 yet“, Felix asked, Bella and you exchanging looks and giggling quietly. „How do you feel (Y/N)?“, Carlilse asked, fondly rolling his eyes at you and Bella, and gave you a once over. „Not much different“, you shrugged and suppressed a yawn. The time difference was making you tired, it would’ve been the middle of the night already in Volterra.

„You need some sleep amore“, Felix brushed a piece of your hair back before taking your hand and pulling you up. „Alright“, you yawned, „Good night!“ Bella waved and Rosalie helped her up too, she needed all the rest she could get.

——————————

It was chaos. The pack didn’t back down from the fight even with the Volturi there. You pleaded with them not to kill the Pack and were now holding Bella’s hand who was in Labour, with a broken spine. All of this looked like something straight out of a horror movie. Because Aro, Marcus, Jane and Alec were out hunting with Carlilse and Esme, you were a bit understaffed and now Alice and Rosalie couldn’t handle the blood and had to go. So it was only Edward, Jacob and you left - Felix, Demetri and Santiago fighting outside.

You just hoped Felix was alright, but your thoughts were interrupted, when Edward tore open Bella’s stomach, holding a small baby in his arms. Like, an actual cute little baby - and you were partly relieved that there wasn’t something weird growing inside of you. The baby started screaming and Edward smiled, a rare sight these days. „It’s Renesmee“, he told Bella, and you gently and excitedly squeezed her hand. You were an aunt, you thought with a smile.

„Beautiful“, Bella whispered, and Edward carefully placed the baby in her fragile arms, so that she could hold her daughter. But suddenly it seemed like the vampire part of the baby came through, and she bit Bella with her small teeth, making Jacob worry and Edward take Renesmee back.

And then she stopped moving. „Bella?“, Jacob was immediately at her other side. „Bella!“, you shook her shoulder, willing her to move, but she didn’t and your heart dropped to your already slightly rounded stomach. „Bella!“, Jacob called out, starting CPR and you let go of her hand in horror. What if she really didn’t make it? You hadn’t even seriously entertained the possibility of her dying - or, for a matter of fact, you. You thought Edward could save her with her venom, but maybe this situation was too bad already.

„Jacob, take the baby“, Edward looked panicked, the helplessness radiating off of him. „Keep that away from me“, Jacob seethed, continuing compressions and you snapped out of your stupor. „I’ll take her“, you whispered but Edward heard you nonetheless. „Don’t worry I’ll watch the teeth“, you reassured him and took your niece out of his arms, and settled her in yours.

You saw him take out a big needle filled with what was probably his venom, and left the room before you saw him ram it into Bella’s heart. Your heart couldn’t take seeing your cousin like that, and your niece needed you. You sat down in a chair in the living room, trying your best to clean the cute baby with the towel she was wrapped in, before taking the blanket from the couch and gently wrapping her in it.

She seemed more comfortable now, her crying stopping and her pretty brown eyes staring up at you. She didn’t try to bite you, but you were still careful while stroking her small nose. „I really hope your mommy makes it baby“, you sighed, refusing to fall into grief just yet, maybe she would make it.

——————————

„He really imprinted on her?“, Felix looked a bit weirded out when you were finally laying in bed in the early morning hours. „It’s how it works with the pack“, you shrugged cuddling further into him and hugging the warm water bottle close to you that canceled out his cold. Now that you were pregnant you seemed more sensitive to temperature.

„Mhm“, he was in thought, absentmindedly stroking your ever growing belly and you couldn’t help but smile. It seemed like drinking a lot of blood early on really helped, Carlilse said you were way healthier than Bella was at this point. „Can you still hear her heartbeat?“, you asked, and you had to give him that - eventhough you asked about the twentieth time since you layed down - he still answered you nicely.

„Yes“, he whispered, kissing the top of your head, when suddenly the baby moved. „Woah“, you were wide awake again, pressing a hand to your belly, and feeling another movement. „Did you feel that?“, you were looking at Felix with wide eyes and he matched your expression. „That’s…our baby“, he said quietly, looking at your stomach, his big cold hand covering it. „Yeah“, you sighed with a smile, settling down into his embrace again as gently kissing his neck.

„I never thought I would ever…get the chance to have children“, he admitted, and you laid down your smaller hand on top of his bigger one, urging him to continue. „If the blood is helping you stay healthy, and this isn’t going to be as bad as Bella and I risk losing you, I…I can see why you think it is a miracle“, he whispered, hope shimmering in his previously pained eyes. You said nothing, pulling him closer and kissing him softly, and praying that your cousin would make it.

================

Sooo second to last part! Hope you liked it, hope it made sense and I would really really appreciate some feedback - always helps getting me motivated to write, since I’m such a slow writer :]

[angsthology]

☾ intro to jupiter nightshade (ft. the commentary by yours truly)

-> series masterlist

Jupiter Nightshade.

How do you even begin to describe her?

Jupiter was everyone’s dreams and everyone’s nightmare.

You love Jupiter, you hate her, you admire her, you’re terrified of her, you want to be her, you want to be with her.

Some people even say that she’s a real daughter of the sky — others even dared say she is the God Jupiter of the sky.

But those were just rumors, probably.

Hard not to believe those when the woman looked like she belongs in a museum of fine art. Models envy her, they kiss the ground she walks on and thank whatever higher power that she decided to join the world of motorsports. She would render them all jobless if modelling was her actual career rather than it being an occasional obligation.

The gods really took their time with her. Dark, jet-black hair cascades down her back — she never really keeps it long, she had to wear layers a lot and she was not a fan of the itch and heat restrictions it gave her so she always opted for a short messy haircut. Her skin glowed olive, under the sun, it often looked like she was made of part-gold. But, oh, dio mio!—as she would say—her eyes, her eyes; they’re the magnet to all that is deserving, they’re blessed to those lucky enough to have been even looked upon with those eyes. Both a piercing shade of emerald green—only, here’s the twist, the drop of uniqueness to it; her left eye was split into two between the striking green and a soft brown.

Call it dramatic but what I say doesn’t stray far from the truth.

That was her looks. I can’t even begin to describe the talent, the spirit she possesses.

“THAT’S P1, KID! P1 ON YOUR FIRST RACE!” her engineer yelled in her radio, his words coming out of his mouth along with breaths of disbelief.

The racer hadn’t even heard a word he said, she was far too busy taking in the glory of the shock coming from the stands. There were occasional boos of course, but of course that doesn’t begin to beat the cheers coming for her. The rookie.

She was on a high, one she has never felt before. Not even when she was named F2 champion or any other race she’s won before. Formula One was a new kind of glory for her and boy she was already hungry for more.

That hunger? Never went away for the rest of her rookie season. Jupiter Nightshade was a mad woman and that made everyone (all the good ones anyway) fall in love with her.

God, she could never be full of the glory. Every moment she managed to get more it only makes her even hungrier for more.

“JUPITER NIGHTSHADE YOU ARE A GOD!” the energetic yells of her team principal boomed through her radio, almost making her flinch.

“Tell me something I don’t know.” she said smugly.

Ugh, what a smug little shit.

I still think she’s cool or whatever.

Think what you want to think about Jupiter Nightshade but everyone can always agree that she’s full of surprises.

Really, she didn’t know where it came from. One second she was kissing her winning trophy while perched up on the second and third driver’s shoulders, the next; champagne was everywhere and she was in the air — mouthful of champagne, (she’s young, she’s free, and most importantly, she was a winner. She thought.) she sprayed the liquid that was already in her mouth to the P2 holder, completely surprising them—not that they’re mad or anything about it, they were just taken by surprise by it and let it happen. Then she turned to the lucky three with a smirk on her face; the man was quick to try and duck away but she was faster than that (on-track, off-track, there isn’t much difference between her), spraying right into his face.

And, really, that was how it started.

It was… an interesting, but hot nonetheless—according to the Twitter sapphics anyway. (They’re right.)

But being one of the greatest always came with its negatives — worse when you’re a woman.

She was the world champion.

She was a rookie driver in a Renault with a world champion.

And yet… they are boo-ing her.

On the internet, anyway.

Which makes it even better. If they’re not brave enough (or, rich enough to even attend a Grand Prix) to say it to her face, what real value do their words even have?

But for now, she can only accept her first domination under the building lightning storm in the sky.

And hence, born was her first nickname—and I’m not talking about the world driver’s champion—no; from then on, the daughter of the sky was born.

What a scam! — 2019 spat out, Jupiter was called the rookie with immense beginners luck.

Cunt. She thought.

The media that once ridiculed her then acted as if they never doubted her a day in their life was once again turning their back on them.

Typical, she thought. Fame-hungry-worthless-losers with no sense of wording in their body whatsoever.

When asked about it, her answer was simple; the only answer she had given to the world that retched year:

“The car is finally realizing who’s driving it and just couldn’t keep up.”

Renault was angry.

How. Dare. She.

They gave her an F1 car for the first time in her career, they catered her to a championship in it, and this is how she repays them?

At that, she rolls her eyes, “What, like I’m wrong?”

You make a car that accommodates a champion’s needs, you get a champion.

Nightshade is not for the weak.

So when she made her move to Red Bull in 2020 many was not surprised — ‘it’s been a long time coming.’ (I know right, why didn’t she do it sooner?) — ‘of course, she did.’ (the fuck you mean by that?) — ‘oh, great, more overconfident Red Bull drivers, just what we need.’ (damn, right it’s what we need.) — and my personal favorite: ‘was she not already in Red Bull?’ (oh they wished they had hired her sooner.)

By the time her third WDC came around, people have already treated her like an evil dictator taking over Formula One.

The internet (and, Netflix too probably) have successfully painted over her spirit turning her into this soul-sucking, dream-stealing, non-caring of others’ well-being person.

Everyone was suddenly far too busy looking for her faults; everyone.

Did they care that she’s a woman dominating in a male-dominated sport? Not anymore (they miss having their favorite white man win.)

Did they even bother caring about who she was doing this for? (No, why should they? She’s not of any relevance.)

Did they even bother opening their eyes to the fact that Jupiter Nightshade is a good person.

To look past her brash personality, interesting habits, and behavior and just see her for what she stands for, to what she is proving; that how the media—the world treats her gender unfairly when the opposite can do the exact same thing (hell, sometimes even worse) and not be bashed as much as she was getting.

They can say what they want about her but she’ll be the one hearing “You are the world champion!” in her ears at the end of the season.

not proofread | taglist; @disneyprincemuke (no one was surprised) + ask to be added 🥳

[turn3tifosi]

FROM THE ANGELS

i. THE FERRARI DREAM

Hungary, 2022

The voice of Alex Jacques echoes like the end of the world, circling the track as the cars scream into the final lap. Ausilia de Angelis, Ferrari’s young lioness, dances with destiny, carving her name into the air, leading the race like it was always hers. The past six races bow before her, and she’s hungry—hungry for the points she’s about to steal from Felipe Drugovich, the man who chases shadows in the championship.

And then it happens.

The world cracks open. She crosses the line, and the earth stands still. Seven. Seven times the victor. The Prema pit explodes, red and white and joyous. Theo Pourchaire—fourth to second—follows her ghost, and Ayumu Iwasa, eyes like fire, claims third.

The circuit breathes out. The race is over. Spa waits on the other side of summer.

"Oh my God, that was fun!" Ausilia’s voice is a storm, a whirlwind, as she crashes into her team, arms and laughter and victory all tangled up. She turns, the chaos in her chest finding its rhythm, and she leaps—into the arms of Lucrezia Cattaneo, the woman who believes in her like she’s gravity. "I’m so proud of you, tesoro mio," Lucrezia whispers, but it’s not really a whisper. It’s the sound of the sun setting on a perfect day.

Later, after the world has quieted and the night has taken over, they drive back to the hotel. The road is dark, but there’s light between them. “You’re going to Maranello this week?” Lucrezia asks, her eyes fixed ahead, searching for something only she can see. Ausilia, for once, doesn’t have the answer. She shrugs, letting the silence fill the car like water in a glass. “It’s the start of the summer break. I’d rather not see their faces, not yet. They haven’t called.” But she knows, somewhere deep, that the call is coming, and when it does come, it won’t be joyous.

Summer Break, 2022

Ausilia never expected a calm summer break, not after what she and Lucrezia had set into motion. The summer break was supposed to be a breath, a pause—but the first day, and already the phone rings, and the mood shatters like glass.

“Have you terminated your contract with Ferrari?” The voice on the other end is calm, too calm.

“Not yet,” Ausilia replies, her voice steady, though the storm inside her builds. “I haven’t been to Maranello since last Monday. Why?”

A chuckle from the other side, low and knowing. “You were right about them. I’m at the gala, and certain Italians are whispering in corners, telling potential sponsors that you’re only winning because Prema’s given you the faster car. They’re trying to sway me, push me toward Ferrari, and away from you.”

Ausilia’s eyes narrow, the fire beneath her cool words sparking. “Any team gives the faster car to the better driver. If they’re saying that, it just proves they know I’m the better one.”

There’s a beat of silence, the tension thick even across the distance, then the question comes, sharp and decisive. “Should we contact your future team for the sponsorship deal?”

She lets the question hang in the air, measuring it against the chaos she knows is coming. “Not yet,” she finally says, each word a deliberate step. “There’s going to be drama this summer. Let’s not tip our hand too soon.”

As she’s about to end the call, another ring cuts through the quiet, the name on the screen making her groan. Marco Matassa (FDA Head). Of course. The devil always knows when to appear. “Looks like I’ll be heading to Maranello sooner than I thought.”

She cuts the call, lets the phone ring unanswered until it stops. A message pops up, cold as a command: “Drive to Maranello tomorrow. The team wants to discuss your future. Bring your manager.”

And just like that, the storm begins.

Ausilia woke early the next morning, shedding the Ferrari red for something that spoke in whispers rather than shouts—something fashionable, defiant in its simplicity. The day held a certain weight, and she dressed for the part, not as a driver but as something else, something more.

She left her apartment and picked up Lucy, who was waiting with a smile that knew too much. “Excuse they’ll use. Just one. Closest guess gets an extra slice of pizza tonight,” Lucy offered, a game to pass the time, to cut through the tension that hung between them. Ausilia laughed, the sound sharp and bright in the morning light.

As the engine roared to life, Ausilia waved her hand with mock drama, her voice dripping with sarcasm, “There’s just no seats in F1.”

Lucy turned serious, eyes narrowing as she thought it through. “I don’t think they’ll use something so blatant. They’re not that stupid, are they? My guess—something about how F2 and F1 are worlds apart, and just because you dominated F2 doesn’t mean you’ll succeed in F1.”

Ausilia’s laugh came again, this time darker, edged with something bitter. “If they go with that, they’d be proving just how stupid they are.”

The drive from Modena to Maranello was only half an hour, but it felt longer, like the road itself was stretching out, trying to delay the inevitable. When she finally pulled into Ferrari’s parking lot, she did it in a Porsche, not a Ferrari, each moment of defiance deliberate, each choice a statement. No team polo, no red, no shield. Just a rival’s car gleaming in the enemy’s territory.

She knew what she was doing, knew the risks. But if this was the end, she would go out on her own terms. What better way to say goodbye than to flaunt a rival's machine when she had spent her time as a Ferrari Driver Academy member refusing to touch any of their own?

As Ausilia slid into her seat at the head of the table, Marco Matassa, the head of FDA, and Mattia Binotto, Scuderia Ferrari’s Team Principal, rose in a slow, deliberate dance of formality.

The room crackled with tension. The Porsche in the parking lot was an unwelcome guest in a sea of Ferraris, a silent proclamation of defiance. Everyone knew who it belonged to.

Ausilia, draped in dramatic anticipation, knew exactly what was coming. But drama was her craft; she was here to see how they would script this act.

“Apologies for the Porsche. Lucy’s car is in the shop.” She offered a smile, disarmingly serene, as if it might soften the blows to come. If these men weren’t bracing for the conversation ahead, they might have laughed, dismissed it as a trivial matter.

“You can sit down, you know,” Lucy’s voice was a gentle chime, the kind of sound that seemed to make the air around them a little lighter.

Marco gestured to Mattia, urging him to take a seat while he remained standing, his eyes locked onto Ausilia. “You are an incredible talent for Ferrari.” The words were like a well-rehearsed lie, and Ausilia almost laughed, because of course she was a talent—but not for them, not anymore. She smiled back, wide-eyed and innocent.

“Unfortunately,” Mattia cut in, his impatience a jagged edge, “we don’t have any seats in Formula One. Carlos and Charles are locked in until the end of 2024.”

“The pizza’s mine,” Ausilia whispered to Lucrezia, the words a secret promise as she turned her attention back to Marco and Mattia. “Haas have a seat, don’t they?”

An uneasy silence settled over the room, the kind that lingers after a question too sharp. Marco finally responded, his voice carrying a tone of practiced indifference. “Haas won’t take another FDA driver. They don’t want to be seen as Ferrari’s junior team.”

Lucy’s eyes sharpened, her voice cutting through the pretense. “So despite Ausilia’s domination of F2 and F3, she’s to remain grounded? What kind of academy can’t even pave the way for its own drivers?”

Marco took a breath, as if steadying himself. “It might be better for her career if she’s not branded with Ferrari. Let’s terminate the contract—it will make it easier for her to find a seat elsewhere.”

Lucy winced, her patience fraying. Did these men really think they could pull the wool over their eyes? Getting an F1 seat without an F1 team backing her was going to be a fight, especially as a woman.

But Lucy mirrored Ausilia’s façade of ignorance, agreeing with the men with a tone that dripped with feigned logic. “Well, at least you’re being practical.”

Ausilia walked into Ferrari headquarters as an FDA driver and left as just another driver. The weight of the label lifted from her shoulders, but a shadow of sadness lingered. Despite her plans for a Formula One career, a part of her—the part that had dreamed of driving for Scuderia—felt the sting of loss.

[multi-fandom-of-madness]

Forbidden Fruit

Pairings: Copia X AFAB!Reader Type: Smut Summary: Copia loves bending it over onstage, and you just need to show that ass some appreciation. Warnings: Eating out and pegging Word Count: 2834 Notes: Read here on ao3. This is an AFAB!Reader story, but I don’t think it has specific pronouns. If you want to read this with different pronouns or as an AMAB!Reader story, literally hit me up, and I will send you that version, or repost it. Please don’t be shy in that regard :) Also, I’m going to be real, I wrote this so long ago, I just never ended up posting it (it was literally my first time writing smut), so I don’t really remember a lot of what happens here.

~

There were nights where it was difficult to be away from Copia. Especially with him constantly gone on tour, leaving you with nothing to do. Sure you could try to do some chores with the siblings, or garden with Primo, or just do literally anything, but that never seemed enticing enough.

Instead, you just decided scrolling through TikTok would be a better idea because on occasion, Copia’s gorgeous face would pop up and make the day better. Not that you did that all day every day, but a good portion of your day was spent scrolling on that god awful app.

When Copia finally got his break, you were beyond excited for him to spend his time with you while he prepared for the US leg of the tour.

Copia was beyond relieved when he got out of the car and saw you running towards him, jumping in his arms for a hug and a kiss.

“Did you miss me, dolce?” He asked, gently laughing and holding you tightly.

“Of course I didn’t. I just wanted to run and hug you and never let you go because I hate you,” you joked, knowing he would get a laugh out of the cheesy statement. He let you go, placing a hand on your cheek and smiled. You held his hand to your face and melted into his touch.

“Well I missed you, amore mio. Come, let’s sneak away and leave the ghouls to do the unpacking.”

“How could I say no?” You giggled, pulling him into the Ministry without another word.

He followed along, pleased with how happy you were to see him. When you finally got to the bedroom, he quickly undressed, getting into more comfortable clothing, and laid down, pulling you close to him. “How are you more gorgeous each time I return?” He asked, pulling you into a kiss, then trailing down to nip at your neck and collar. “I could just eat you up,” he chuckled.

“Copia,” you said, sucking in a breath.

He looked up. “Hm?”

“Fuck, I missed you,” you responded, pulling him into a passionate kiss.

“Care to show me just how much my dolcezza missed me?” He chuckled, pulling away.

The moment he pulled away, you flipped him over, sitting on his lap. “You know, you had no reason putting on these pajamas when you knew I would be pulling them off anyways,” you said, pulling off his shirt.

“Maybe you are right,” he said, grabbing your hips and pulling you towards him. “Maybe I just wanted to have you undress me,” he smirked, kissing you again. Rolling your eyes, you kissed him back, moving only to tug his pants off so that he was clad in only his boxers. “I feel that you are a little overdressed for this occasion, tesoro.”

“Well maybe I need someone to help me with th-” He wasted no time in flipping you over, pulling off your shirt and shorts, leaving you exposed except for your underwear. “Well someone’s eager.”

“I have been without you for far too long. I’m not delaying this any longer,” he said, ripping your panties off next.

“Those were expensive!” You gasped, playfully shoving him.

“I will buy you new ones,” he dismissed, flipping you over, trailing kisses down your body until he reached your dripping cunt. “So wet,” he mused, sliding a finger through your slick. “All for me?”

“Oh, fuck, yes. All for you,” you moaned, back arching at the contact. He brought his finger to his lips, moaning when the taste of you hit his tongue.

“I’ve been craving a taste of my favorite dish. I’ve waited far too long,” he said, burying his face in your cunt.

His tongue worked magic, swirling around your clit as he pressed one finger into your entrance. You grabbed a handful of his hair, eliciting a groan from him that vibrated through your entire body. “Oh sweet Lucifer,” you moaned, grinding against his face. He pushed another finger in, angling directly for that sweet spot he knew would have you melting into the bed.

He kept his eyes on you as you squeezed yours shut. He pumped his fingers in and out while he continued to eat you out like a man starved. The noises the two of you were making were downright filthy. He was drawing moans out of you, his fingers making squelching sounds as he fucked you with them.

“Shit shit shit, yeah right there,” you chanted as you felt a familiar coil building in your stomach.

“Are you going to cum?” He asked, continuing to pump his fingers in and out of you. “Going to cum all over my face and my fingers?”

“Fuck!” You shouted as he dived back into your pussy, clenching around his fingers. “I’m gonna cum. I’m gonna cum. Fuck, unholy fuck!”

“That's it. Cum for me,” he said, sucking your clit with more fervor and angling his fingers just right. It was enough to send you over the edge. He worked you through your orgasm, and only pulled away once you started flinching from overstimulation. “That’s it. Good girl,” he praised, coming to lay next to you as you came down from your orgasm. He put a gentle hand on your chin and pulled your face to look at him, then pulled you into a sweet kiss.

You moaned at the taste of yourself on his lips, and he pulled back with a chuckle. “Ready for round two?” He smirked.

With a nod, you knew it was bound to be a long night.

—

Quiet time was valued by you and Copia both. A way to destress with each other and just chill out without having to talk or do anything. He had been reading a book for the past thirty minutes while you scrolled through your most recent addiction that is the app TikTok – with headphones on of course. There was no reason to disturb the peace.

While scrolling, you found countless baking videos, some BookTok videos, cosplay, but most importantly…tour videos.

A lot of them were with the ghouls being chaotic demons onstage. They were entertaining, but what piqued your interest most was the Copia clip that popped up.

Adjusting your posture, you watched what the creator called a ‘crack video’ of the random things that happened during Mummy Dust.

Some of it was the ghouls, Dewdrop slamming his fist into his guitar, reaching for a person in the crowd, and then jerking off in time to ‘cum’ with the confetti. Or Phantom holding his guitar at weird angles, posing with an oddly threatening aura, or trying out some new hip thrusts. Even Rain and Cirrus had their moments in the video.

But what interested you the most was when Copia popped up. He was just as chaotic as the ghouls. Growling, thrusting, slapping imaginary asses, and fingering the air. But it couldn’t get any better when you saw the perfect angle of someone filming as he bent over, wiggling his ass back and forth as if taunting someone to come and fuck him.

Someone coming up, bending him over the bed, moving their hand from his groping his ass to roaming up his spine, then pressing his head in the bed as they fucked him…Sathanas…what an image…

Clenching your thighs together, you watched as he began to bend forward, sticking his perfect ass out for everyone to ogle. And fuck did he look good. Every curve of him made your mouth water. It was too much just to look at, but you couldn’t look away as he wiggled his ass. He looked absolutely delectable.

 A small moan slipped out of your mouth at the thought of pounding him into neck week, and Copia gave you a look.

“Everything alright, amore mio?” He asked, placing a bookmark in his book and setting it aside as he looked at your phone and removed your headphones.

“How have I never seen this before?” You mused, looking at him with a mischievous grin.

“Ah, so I have caught your attention?”

You rolled your eyes. “When do you not?” You paused and looked at him, admiring his unpainted face and mismatched eyes.

“What are you thinking?” He asked, quirking an eyebrow.

“I want to fuck you,” you stated bluntly.

“Well, I am happy to let you climb on to-”

“No. I want to fuck you.”

He gave you a confused look, and you slid off the bed, going to look for the box you had hidden in your dresser. You set it on the bed, then crawled on top of him. He placed his hands on your hips as you began rocking against him, his cock quickly hardening at your movements. “Amore…”

Leaning in to kiss him, you let a small moan slip through your lips. “I want to fucking devour you. Every inch of you is absolutely perfect. Please, Copia, let me…”

“I need a little more context, yes?” He chuckled, nipping at your neck. “What’s in that box, il mio cuore?”

You brought one hand back, blindly searching as you kept your eyes on him and leaning in for another kiss. When you opened it, his eyes went wide.

A nicely sized black dildo, harness, and a bottle of lube were all that was in the box. ‘Oh,” is all he said.

“You can say no.” He just stared at you and the contents of the box dumbly. “Copia?”

“Cazzo,” he cursed. “Si, yes, please,” he said, quickly scrambling to remove his clothes.

A chuckle escaped your lips as you grabbed both of his hands, then leaned in to nip at his neck. “Let me worship you,” you whispered.

He visibly shuddered. “Please,” he begged. You began unbuttoning his pajama shirt, trailing sloppy kisses from his neck to his stomach, leaving practically no bit of skin dry. You made sure to pay close attention to his nipples, biting at one and pinching the other, then switching every few moments. Finally, you made your way to the waistband of his pants. Sitting up, you gently pull the fabric off of him. Of course, no underwear. What was the need when he was next to you? Made for easy access.

You stripped him fully, then began gripping his thighs, appreciating how meaty they were. He let out a moan when you dug your nails in slightly, causing his back to arch.

“Please, amore. I need you,” he moaned, his hands desperately reaching out for you.

“Not yet, darling. I said I wanted to worship you, and I meant it.” Sliding down his body some more, you made your way to his calves. They were so defined that you couldn’t help but press kisses to the soft skin. You trailed kisses back up to his thighs, then began biting, enjoying the way that he bruised easily, allowing you to mark him however you pleased.

He was moaning and desperate, and you knew this was just getting to the point of annoying teasing, which isn’t the intended goal. Bringing one hand to cup his balls, you licked a long stripe up his cock, taking the head in your mouth and swirling your tongue in ways that made him see stars.

“Vita mia-” he moaned, cut off when you took him fully into your mouth. He laced a hand through your hair to steady himself. “Please, I want to en-enjoy you. I’m going to cum if you -if you keep doing that.” 

Although he asked for it, he whined and bucked his hips when you pulled off. “Bend over the bed,” you commanded, and he couldn’t help but obey. He looked like a desperate whore with how fast he slid off the bed and stuck his ass out, but this wasn’t the time for degradation. This was time for worship. “Fuck, you’re so pretty,” you whispered, bringing hands up to knead into his ass. “So perfect~”

“All for you,” he breathed out, trying to push his ass further into your hands.

“All for me, but you’re the one flaunting it onstage. Are you really that needy for attention?” He whined in response. “I’ll give you attention, darling…don’t worry,” you assured, grabbing the bottle of lube from the box. Slicking up your fingers, you smeared some around his hole, causing him to lurch forward at the sensation. “Color?” You asked as you began hooking the dildo into the harness and sliding it on.

“Green,” he huffed out, already overwhelmed by the simple touches he’s received.

With his confirmation, you pressed one finger into him, enjoying the way he clenched at the sudden intrusion. He let out a groan and tried pushing himself back. You placed a hand on his hips to still him, then began thrusting the single finger before adding a second, alternating between thrusting and scissoring to stretch him open. 

“Please, I’m ready. I need you,” he moaned, pushing back against your fingers. He let out a sad noise as you retracted them.

Smearing whatever lube was left on your fingers and a bit more poured from the bottle, you lined up with his hole, barely pressing the head of the dildo into him. He let out a whine, and tried pushing back.

You put a hand on his hip and leaned to whisper in his ear. “Settle,” you said as you began pushing in. He grabbed the bed sheets, twisting them in his hands as you moved. You got about an inch in, then pulled out slightly, and pushed forward more, until it got to the point where your thighs were touching the meat of his ass.

“Your fucking ass is…sathanas this is fucking amazing,” you said, letting the dildo sit in his ass as if he were nothing more than a cockwarmer.

He moaned in response, trying to move on the dildo on his own, prompting you to move. Starting slow, you thrusted forward, eliciting a delicious groan from him. “Amore mio, please…more…” he begged, letting his head fall to the bed, muffling his noises.

Gently, you turned his head to the side, examining his handsome face as you stared in his glassy eyes. “Don’t hide those pretty noises, darling,” you said, punctuating the end of the sentence with a gentle thrust.

He let out a surprised moan, and lost control of what spilled from his mouth.

“You’re so pretty from here. Sathanas, how have I never done this before?” You asked, picking up the pace, punching out moans and grunts. “Taking me so well. Like you were built to be fucked.”

He let out a spent “uh-huh,” in response, fisting the bedsheets and closing his eyes.

“Bet this is what you think about on that stage. Getting dicked down. Wanted to be bent over, and let everyone see just how good you are. So fucking good.”

“Please, tesoro, I need more,” he pleaded. And who were you to resist such a beautiful plea?

One hand trailed up his back, while the other reached around to stroke his cock, which was slick with pre. He was absolutely dripping. It was such a beautiful thing.

He let out a high pitch moan once you hit his prostate dead on. “Yeah? Like that?” He nodded. “Fuck, Copia, you’re so beautiful like this. Laid out and bare, letting me treat you how you deserve. So good.”

There was an attempt to match the pace of stroking his dick in time with your thrusts, but it didn’t last long when you kept nailing directly into his prostate, and his hips began moving on their own.

“Amore, please, can I cum? I need to cum,” he asked, bouncing back on the silicone, not letting you keep your pace.

“Cum for me. Show me how good I’m making you feel.” You twisted your wrist, jacking him off at a simple pace, then swiping a thumb over the tip.

He shuddered and tensed, streams of white covering your knuckles. You fucked him through the orgasm, only getting slower when he began to twitch from the overstimulation.

Carefully, you pulled out, then removed the harness. He stayed in the position until you helped him move to lay on the bed.

He looked practically ruined, and oh so beautiful. “I’m going to grab a washcloth, love, I’ll be back,” you said, slipping off to the bathroom.

He looked half asleep when you came back, and you gently tapped his cheek. “Still with me?” He nodded. “Good.” You took the wash cloth and began wiping him down. You laid next to him, whispering praise while you stroked his peppered hair.

After a few minutes, he came back down to earth. “You didn’t cum,” he said, cuddling into you.

“I wasn’t doing that for me,” you responded, wrapping an arm around him.

“And if I asked to eat you out?”

“Then I would be a fool to say no,” you laughed. He grinned before disappearing between your thighs.

You would definitely be doing this again.

[selene-lunette]

Comparison between Shadow of the Colossus and Dororo

I've been a Dororo fan for years now and I just recently played Team Ico's games for the first time. So, here I'll try to list things that Shadow of the Colossus and Dororo have in common. My theory is that Fumito Ueda was inspired by Osamu Tezuka's work and, vice versa, Ueda's works inspired the 2019 anime adaptation of Dororo. Now, if this was common knowledge, then my bad! If that's not the case, these will be just lots of comparisons. Spoilers ahead!

First of all, both Wander and Hyakkimaru have a goal, and they are determined to reach it, no matter what. Wander wants to bring Mono back to life, while Hyakkimaru wants to collect his bodyparts, that were taken by evil spirits at birth due to a contract his father made to gain power. The demons in Dororo are 48, which is the number of Colossi Ueda initially planned to have in his game.

Now, we know that within the colossi lie severed segments of Dormin's body. As Hyakkimaru defeats a demon, he collects a body part back. So, both the fiends in Dororo and the Colossi in Shadow of the Colossus hold a piece of body. But while in Dororo once these creatures are slayed the body part goes back to its original owner, in Shadow of the Colossus Wander is the vessel of Dormin's body, which is collected through those dark trails that pierce him after each battle.

At the beginning of Dororo's original manga from 1967, Lord Daigo, Hyakkimaru's dad, enters a shrine and finds various devil statues. Here, he makes a contract with the evil spirits, the 48 devil gods. He seeks power, but the price to pay is the body of his own child. Doesn't that sound familiar? Wander also enters a shrine adorned with various idols, where he asks Dormin, the being that controls the souls of the dead, for Mono to be revived. But Dormin warns him that the price he'll pay would be heavy. Both the evil gods and Dormin, while promising what the human desires, ask for something important in return. They are also kind of making fun of the mortals for their requests.

I'd also like to add that, as the Dororo manga continues and picks up with Hyakkimaru now being 14 years old, his lover, Mio, is already dead. We just see her through flashbacks, as the boy tells his story to Dororo. We don't know what's the relationship between Mono and Wander, but it's clear that he deeply cares about her, either as a lover, friend or sister.

(While I'm not sure if this is simply fan speculation or not, wasn't an alternative ending gonna feature Mono come back to life but blind, and she would've slowly regained her eyesight? If this was an actual scrapped ending, it would literally reference a core theme in Hyakkimaru's journey).

As for the rest, the two stories are completely different, but the beginning is pretty similar, at least in my opinion. I feel like Ueda could've been influenced by Osamu Tezuka's work. Back in 2019 a Dororo anime remake aired, a retelling of the story. Just like all the other Dororo adaptations, a lot of things were changed from the original manga. The 48 demons were cut to 12, and another major change is the additional grey morality that envelops the entirety of the show. In the original manga, Daigo wanted to be a powerful ruler and gave his son away without regret. Here, he seeks help from the demons to archieve that, yes, but his lands are being destroyed by famines and epidemics. While he has egoistical ambitions, he's also helping his people. As you watch the anime, you start to question: who is right and who is wrong? Who is truly evil here? Which are questions we all asked ourselves while playing Shadow of the Colossus. While you play, you know why you're slaying the Colossi, but you do start to wonder if you're really doing the right thing. They are just giant creatures, some peaceful if not attacked, and are the only inhabitants of the Forbidden Lands. Is Wander the true villain, is it Dormin, or is it Emon? Is there even a true villain at all, or just characters at cross purpouses?

In Dororo, you root for Hyakkimaru, deprived of his own body. But, as he kills more and more demons, the lands are yet again subjected to droughts and floods. And, on his first encounter with Lord Daigo, his father asks him to stop collecting his body for the sake of the lands. The morally grey character of Hyakkimaru, I feel like, could be inspired by Fumito Ueda's work. There's a major difference in the ending though. As Wander's journey makes him loose his humanity, Hyakkimaru's is the opposite. Withing him, he also has bits of evil spirits enbedded into his soul, much like Wander.

But while Hyakkimaru is plagued by doubts, and sometimes lets the demonic part of him loose, he ultimately reaches his goal to be whole again. With the death of all the demons, the natural disasters stop, starting a period of peace. He gets his humanity back, something that Wander only archieves after being reborn.

Also, this is totally just speculation, but the thing about Hyakkimaru's demon slaying causing illnesses and epidemics might be a reference to ICO. In the PS2 manual (at least in the italian one I own) it is stated that the horned children are believed to be cursed, bringing misfortunes to befall the villages. Another thing added to the 2019 anime adaptation of Dororo is the fact that with each evil spirit Hyakkimaru kills, the idol that represents it at the shrine (where Daigo made the contract) breaks. Which is literally what happens in Shadow of the Colossus.

I'd also like to add that Dororo also has a videogame adaptation for the PS2 called Blood will tell, that contains 48 fiends to defeat in order to retrieve Hyakkimaru's body parts. It came out just a year before Shadow of the Colossus did, and it's such a fun game. It has some amazing looking fiends and, fun fact, Blood will tell's japanese cover art is also a beautiful drawing (made by Hiroaki Samura), while the western box art is a 3D rendition of the main character, much like ICO. Though, not as ugly ;)

I can't tell if this game actually influenced Shadow of the Colossus or not, but it's pretty fun to spot the similarities between the two. The final boss, Behemoth, is the biggest out of the 48 fiends, and its fight is divided in various sections. In one of these, you have to stand on Behemoth's hand so that it can bring you close to its face to attack. It reminded me of the Malus fight.

In another section, you have to climb the fiend's back to destroy its weak spots, which are horns with a very familiar blue tint that shoot lightings. This reminded me a lot of Pelagia (but also of Basaran and Quadratus).

And the last section features Behemoth charging at you while it flies, which of course reminded me of the Avion fight.

Thank you for reading all my yapping about pieces of media I love deeply! After not being able to find many comparison between Dororo and Shadow of the Colossus online, I just had to make one myself. This is my first time making a post like this, so I hope this isn't worded too badly—

[friskarm]

this is something that had been really evident in previous episodes, but miorine is really unaware of herself, isn’t she?

i made a joke to some friends about how mio is really putting her whole pussy into looking after suletta, but she really really is! and this episode really put a lampshade on just how unaware mio is of how her actions look to others. suletta might be gullible enough to believe that miorine is only looking out for herself, but nika isn’t! shaddiq certainly knows exactly what’s going on.

you can argue (and on god, mio Would) til the cows on earth come home about how she’s just doing this to put herself in a favourable position to escape to earth. if she’s unattainable to the three houses by virtue of having an unstoppable pilot (and machine), she’s no longer useful to them, and thus she can fade away into the background and better escape. this is true.

you could argue that yeah, of course it’s in miorine’s best interest to keep suletta happy. to help her pass her exams. to stand up for her when she’s being bullied. to make friends with her friends and help them out - even offer to lend them dresses! to chaperone her to stupid parties so she can see if that boy she likes happens to be there!

but it has never been exclusively about that, not for a second. because miorine’s life has been characterised by having nobody to stand up for her. the reason she’s so damn prickly and standoffish and combative is for her own survival! there’s no way she could have made it through life in the position she has, as delling’s daughter, with nobody to look out for her without it.

and yet, the very first thing this strange, cringeworthily anxious girl from mercury did is stand up for her, in the one place it mattered to her -- her greenhouse. miorine protested at the time that suletta was making decisions for her, but baked into that was the assumption that suletta would lose. her entire demeanour changes the moment she sees suletta shift from pathetic to confident, and she lets suletta take control -- “you can win?” -- and suletta wins.

suletta says that the way people treat miorine is wrong, and then puts her money where her mouth is in the only way that matters in asticassia.

no wonder miorine is willing to go so hard and so far for suletta! i’m sure it’s been a long, long time since miorine’s had anyone in her corner.

[emmett-the-luchino-lover]

And romantic Luchino x reader hcs that you wanna talk about? (Kinda like a “free prompt” for you to have fun with)

YESS!! I tried my best! (ToT) I'm sorry if it's kind of bad, I tried to make it as accurate to him as possible by studying him from his tweets on the official idv twitter account, but overall, enjoy it!! :D

(requests are open! check my rules for more info before requesting!)

LUCHINO X GN! READER ROMANTIC HCS <3 (SFW) 🦎 

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗Surprisingly, he is quite the gentleman! back when he was a human, tonsss of people tried to flirt with him (though he did not quite liked the attention as he is more of a to himself type of person.)

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗But, once he has been a hunter in the manor, and after he became a lizard, no body wanted to even be near him. He was incredibly closed off from everyone, in his room (or better known as his "lab") doing whatever god knows what. But, he oddly liked it that way..

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗Until you came along. During a match, he had his eyes on you, wanting to know more and study you. "What a fascinating human.." he thinks to himself.

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗The way you guys met was when you both were in the manors hunter garden (its giantic btw :skull emoji:). He bumps into you, surprised of the fact that a mere human, let alone a survivor was wandering around the hunter's part of the manor

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗"Human.. why are you here? Do you even know who I am.? I am a terrifying creature… Many mortals fear me…."

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗"Yea, also this is a nice garden!"

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗"….Did you not hear what I just said."

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗After that whole entire mess, he grew to like you more and more, both getting to know each other and you sneaking off to the hunter's part of the manor, often hanging around the garden.

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗At first, he is not too fond of touch. He actually despised it. But the more you guys are around each other, he had this.. weird desire to give you lots of affection, he didn't understand why though.

-In the start of the relationship, how he shows his affection is giving you small gifts like necklaces, flowers, etc. He'd give excuses to sit beside you.

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗When you give him some stuff back, he would be blushing like ALOTT this lizard boy just gets flustured easily.

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗"Thank you so much, amore mio." (he'll say it camly even tho he's like freaking out on the inside.)

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗he loves it when you listen to him geeking out about science stuff and all of that, it makes him feel all giddy inside and makes him fall in love with you even more.

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗compliment his scales and everything. He loves the way he looks, and when you compliment him, his ego goes through the roof lol

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗He also loves chin scratches. Give him chin scratches and he purrs loudly and you can literally feel and hear the vibration from his body.

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗Once the relationship has been going on for awhile, he'll easily get comfortable with hugs and cuddles, and pretty much almost everything.

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗He loves to pick you up with his long ass tail, even just out of no where.

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗He'd also have you watch him with his experiments in his labs. He'll sometimes allow you to join in, but that's on certain stuff. Half the reason is because he doesn't want you to get hurt if anything happens, and also he is a complete control freak, and only likes things going his way when it comes to this type of stuff, so he would go crazy if any experiments is not mostly him doing it.

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗He doesn't mean it in a mean way or anything though I promise sobs on the ground

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗He loves reading some books with you with classical music in the background while you both are cuddling up on his bed.

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗He'd also treat you to a romantic dinner date (Joseph and Leo would be volunteering to do the food and wine for yall considering you guys can't really go out anywhere since you are literally stuck inside a manor r.i.p)

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗He also ADORES kissing with chin scratches if that makes sense, on both ends. He also loves to pull you in and hold you while you guys are kissing (real)

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗Overall, a really great lizard guy 10/10 (I need him right now fr)

[websterss]

TE AMO — TOM HOLLAND

REQUEST: Sorry to add more to your requests, but can you make one where the reader is Puerto Rican and Tom goes with her to a huge family party for the first time please :)))

WARNING(S): Fluff

WORD COUNT: 1,037

PAIRING: Tom Holland x fem!Reader

A/N: Reposting old fics!!! Hope you enjoy it! Feedback is always welcomed!

MASTERLIST

You were nervous, to say the least. Tom was finally going to meet your family. To most people that didn’t seem like a bad thing because when a boyfriend is introduced to their lovers’ family it usually turns out well. Although for some reason you couldn’t get over all the cons of him meeting your family. It’s not that you didn’t want to introduce him to the most important people in your life, it’s just that you didn’t want to introduce him to the craziness and hecticness that makes up your family.

You see, you were Puerto Rican, which meant a big family, tons of food, and a lot of Spanish. You’ve been trying to teach Tom how to speak it, he has tried and has failed miserably. He couldn’t quite get the trick of rolling his R’s as funny as it seemed. And Yet you managed to get through some basics and how to keep a conversation going.

You were rather impressed by how much he was willing to learn for you. Your family always told you that Tom was definitely a keeper because he was the only guy who’s actually wanted and put in the effort for you. You’d blush at every comment that your mom and abuela would make.

So here you were sitting in Tom’s car nervously tapping your foot. Tom noticed and grabbed a hold of your hand.

“Hey don’t worry, everything is going to go great.” He leaned over and placed a kiss on your cheek.

“You seem more confident to meet my family than I do.” You let out a halfhearted laugh.

“Well, I want them to like me.”

“They will love you.” You smiled.

“How do you know?” He rubbed your hand.

“Because I love you.” You whispered.

Tom leaned in again but kissed you softly against your lips. You pulled away. “Okay, let’s do this.” Tom smiled at you and opened his door, you followed his actions. You both walked up to the front porch hand in hand. You took a deep breath before ringing the doorbell. You waited for a minute before hearing faint footsteps approaching. The door swung open to reveal your mother. Her expression immediately changed. She was so excited to see you.

“Y/n, aye dios mio! Oh, cómo te extrañé!” Oh my god, how I missed you. She hugged you tightly then looked at Tom.

“Tom, es bueno verte!” It’s good to see you. She hugged him tightly as well.

“Usted también.” He responded.

“Well come now, everybody is waiting inside.” Your mom gestured over her shoulder.

Your mom took you to the kitchen where most of your family was. You immediately noticed your grandma making her famous arroz con pollo, Rice with chicken.

“Abuela!” It’s been a couple of months since you last saw her.

“Aye Y/n, mi ninã bonita.” Oh, my beautiful girl.

“I missed you grandma.” You smiled at her.

“Yo tambien. Es este tu novio de que nos hablaste!” Me too. Is this your boyfriend you’ve told us about? You nodded.

Tom seemed to understand what she said because he heard the word boyfriend in the sentence.

“Hola.” He shook her hand.

“Tom, it’s nice to meet you.” She smiled up at him.

“It’s nice to meet you too. Y/n me dijo mucho de ti.” Y/n’s told me so much about you.

Your grandma’s gaze fell on you. She looked rather impressed by his Spanish.

”He’s charming, no lo dejes ir.” Don’t let him go. She whispered to you. Tom looked at the two of you curiously but smiled anyway.

“Well es una fiesta, have fun!” It’s a party. She waved you guys off.

You laughed at her. You introduced Tom to the rest of your family. You could tell they really really liked him, and that made you so happy. Tom was impressing you with many other words you never taught him. He was enjoying himself, after all, he was a likable person. Your family welcomed him with open arms. It was all you could ever ask for.

“La comida ya está lista!” The food is now ready. Your grandma shouted from the kitchen heading to the backyard.

You were talking with your cousin and then went to go find Tom who was talking to your dad with a beer in his hand. You walked up to them.

“There she is.” Tom wrapped his arms around your shoulder placing a tender kiss on your temple. You blushed.

“You did well with this one mija.” My daughter. Your dad pointed at Tom.

“Thank you, dad.” You leaned into Tom.

“Alright let’s go eat.” Your dad clasped his hands together.

“Wait till you try my grandma’s arroz con pollo, you’re going to love it!” You pulled tom to the tables aligned side by side to make a long table.

“Sounds great!” He smiled cheekily at you. You could hear how he rolled his R. You laughed hitting him playfully on his chest.

You were certainly feeling at home again. You didn’t know why you were freaking out so much earlier because knowing Tom he was always one to make a first good impression, and that was something you admire about him.

Tom took a bite of the food and hummed in satisfaction. He loved it so much he asked if you could make him it when you guys got back home. It soon got dark and everyone was having another round of beers or saying their farewells to family members. You and Tom stayed a bit longer after the food, he also accepted another beer from your dad but that would be his last one before you had to leave. He wasn’t planning on getting drunk. Eventually, you said goodbye to your family and told you to visit again and to bring Tom. You laughed at that. “Today was fun. I had a great time.” He said walking hand in hand with you to the car.

“Really, you mean that?” You looked up at him.

“Absolutely darling, your family was wonderful to meet.” He kissed you softly.

“I’m glad you liked them, I love you, Tom.” You sighed happily.

“Y yo te amo.” He kissed you again.

[6billionyearsold]

Are You Real? (Miguel O'Hara x Reader)

Miguel x Reader (Potentially will add Part 2?)

Alternate Universe, they were married to eachother in their respective universes but died. Reader lost Miguel in her universe and became Spiderwoman. An anomaly reaches your universe and you meet Miguel from earth-928. You're both so shocked to see eachother.

Fluff, angst, death

"Dios mio, what the shock are you supposed to be?" You looked at the man standing in front of you, unamused, "Un payaso de rodeo?"

You were just trying to stop this weird villain that came out of nowhere when a portal opened up on the rooftop. Out came a large man in a blue and red suit, a woman on a motorcycle, and two . . . Kids?

One of the kids in a black suit started laughing hysterically at your comment, while the other's eyes widened. You could feel the waves of anger seething off of the tall man, his eyes seemed to bore into you from behind his mask.

You smirked, walking backwards towards the edge of the building, "Well whatever you are, you're in my way." You let yourself free fall before shooting a web from your wrist and swinging towards the havoc being had below you.

Miguel has put up with a lot of shit in his line of work. But that? That was a first. "Pinche mocosa" he growled as he went after you. A rodeo clown? He was seething. Sure when he first put on his suit it was for the Dia de Muertos celebration, but it didn't look too ridiculous. Right?

The other spiders watched you with great interest as they followed suit. Your swinging style was almost identical to Miguel's, which was really weird. As he swung beside you, it was almost as if you were in sync. The only difference being that you weren't 6'9 and hulkingly huge. Yours was almost graceful, the way you weaved through disaster vs how Miguel seemed to barrel through it.

You landed on top of the giant lizard-person-thing before it could even notice you.

"Now where did you come from?" You asked, wrapping web around it's maw so that it couldn't bite. "I thought the rumors about sewer gators in Nueva York were fake? Welcome to the genetically altered club pal!"

Miguel's eyes widened as you flexed your talons and your mask fell back to reveal the lower half of your face, and your . . . Fangs? What the fuck was happening? And why couldn't he stop focusing on the way your tongue ran over the sharp canines. It brought back a rush of memories of y/n, but he knew it couldn't be true. The dark scar on your upper lip didn't belong to the y/n he knew. She had died years ago.

Miles gasped, "OH God, there's another Miguel?! The multiverse doesn't need more!"

Miguel turned around to glare at him, starting to say "Callete, there can't be another one of me!" When he got slapped by the monster's tail and flung into the nearest building.

But he didn't miss the smile that appeared on your face as you laughed at him. It ached something fierce in his heart, and he had to shake his head to clear the thought.

Oh man. This guy is seriously a clown. "If you can't hang then get out of the way!" You called out, hanging onto the bucking lizard like it was an angry bull. The other spiders were helping corral it, quickly wrapping it in web and subduing it.

"Does this belong to you guys?" You asked, hopping down from the beast and landing in front of the other spider people. Miguel had made his way out of the rubble and was stalking towards the group. He might have been a little embarrassed. He doesn't get caught off guard normally. "You should really keep your giant lizards more secure. And fed. And. Out of my city preferably."

Jess went on to explain the multiverse to you, and their purpose as you took it all in.

"OH, so you must be their leader then!" You smiled at her, then pointed to Miguel. "He needs some pointers. Is he new?"

And suddenly, Miguel was in your bubble, towering over you with his broad shoulders obscuring your view. He grabbed your face, much to your dismay, and pushed at your lip until he could see your fangs. He tilted his head, turning your face side to side before he seemed satisfied. Then he grabbed your wrist, causing you to clench so he didn't activate your spinneretts.

"Hey buddy, don't you have any manners?" You growled, trying to yank your arm back from his strong grasp. "You don't see me groping you for fun!"

He pushed the fat of your palm and your talons flexed from your fingerpads, against your will. You had a strange sense that he was smirking under his mask at your discomfort. And it only pissed you off even more.

"Alchemax experiment?" He asked, releasing you finally and looking you up and down. "Stone is a piece of shit?"

You didn't like that he knew so much about you and you knew nothing about him. "What are you, a shocking mind reader?" You turned away from him to face the other spiders who were setting up to head back home. "Did you guys want to get something to eat before you go? I've never met any other spider people before!"

Miguel started to say how they need to go, but Jess interrupted him, tossing you a blue bracelet. "You can come with us, we have a great cafeteria and I'm sure the boss has more questions for you. I know I do."

.

You got a tour of the building, ooing and awing over everything and everyone. Miguel had gone to his lab, probably to sulk or something, Miles informed you.

"El se llama Miguel?" You asked Miles around a mouthful of empanada. It was a really weird coincidence, you thought, but it couldn't be more than that. A coincidence. You were in Nueva York. There were hundreds of Miguels.

"Yeah! He's our leader around here. He actually asked me to bring you to him at the end of the tour. Are you ready?" The younger boy said chipperly as he walked you through a long corridor.

You smiled and waved at some spider people you passed, it was really nice to know that you weren't alone. "As ready as I'll ever be!"

You arrived at a large door and Miles gave you a salute before heading off on his own. "Just a heads up, the lift is SUPER SLOW when he comes down!" He called out as he left. You felt yourself getting nervous. Another Miguel in your life? Whoever he was, it couldn't get any weirder than discovering hundreds of other spider people exist and so do multiverses. You wondered if there was a multiverse where you hadn't lost your husband. Where you had a kid or two and didn't have to worry about villains of the week, your identity, closing yourself off to everyone else.

The doors opened and you called out into the abyss. "Helloooo? Sulking spiderman? Miles said you wanted to see me?"

The light was comfortably low in this room, almost as if it was made for your overly sensitive eyes. You saw the lift that Miles was talking about, and the payaso from earlier slowly descending with it.

Your heart felt like it stopped in your chest as you saw him this time. From behind, you got a good look at a very familiar head of beautiful curly brown hair before he turned to look at you, unamused. You fucking gawked. It wasn't a coincidence.

"Miggy?" You gasp, eyes welling with tears as you looked at the man in front of you, now unmasked. "How--I buried you!" You fully took off your mask and revealed your face to him, using everything in your power not to grab him and never let go.

"Y/N?" He asked slowly, taking a tentative step towards you, as if he wasn't sure you were real. "Is it really you?" He reached out a hand towards you, it was shaking with emotion and you noticed that his eyes were getting teary also.

You caved, a sob wrenching itself from your lungs as you leaped towards him and wrapped around his middle. You shoved your face into his neck and breathed in the scent you thought was long gone. Memories flooded your thoughts, flashes of time you got to spend together before he was taken from you. Before you became Spiderwoman. When he was killed in front of you, it felt like you lost a part of yourself.

His arms wrapped around you instantly, familiar and comforting. Rationally, he knew that you weren't HIS y/n but God if this wasn't almost the same. You still fit in his arms perfectly, you smelled the same, you still had the same crooked smile. When he lost you, it truly broke his heart. It hardened him against ever seeking love again, the way you were cruelly ripped from his grasp. But he would allow himself this moment at least. You could talk later, just knowing that another y/n exists and is a Spiderperson . . . He couldn't believe it.

After holding eachother for what simultaneously felt like forever and only an instant, you looked up at him. "You're not . . . MY Miguel . . . are you?" You murmured into his shoulder as he ran his hands along your back like he used to. There were subtle differences that you started to notice when you really looked at him. His eyes were red, he had fangs like yours too. But mostly, he looked beyond tired, as though he had been carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders. The Miguel you knew wasn't a Spiderperson, he was one of Alchemax's greatest minds, but didn't have any superhuman abilities otherwise.

In your universe, you'd gotten married after being together for 3 years, you'd talked about starting a family when one night he was shot by a mugger while you were walking home. You weren't able to save him, he died in your arms as you screamed for someone, anyone to help. After that, you dove even further into your work at Alchemax, trying to bring the company down from the inside. When they found out what you were doing, they decided to experiment with you as their human subject for splicing animal genetics with humans. That night, you became the Spiderwoman you are today. You escaped the lab and set out to make Nueva York a better place. It had been years and you'd never let yourself love again.

He sighed and fished out the necklace he wore under his suit, showing you the ring on it. "I'm from Earth-928," he said quietly, "In my universe we were married and had been together for 5 years until you were killed in front of me."

You gave him a sad knowing smile as you also pulled out your own ring that you wore on a chain. "It was in front of the convenience store on 6th, right? A random robbery gone bad. God Miguel, even if you aren't the person I knew it's just nice to . . ."

"Hold you? I know, no se siente real." He finished for you, holding the ring that you wore and observing it. "Did I ask you at the flower festival? In fall?" It was the same one he gave you in his universe. The inscription was there, glinting in the low light. 'Forever Yours'.

"And we got married in the Spring," you hummed, "Everyone was there, it was wonderful. I haven't let myself think about it in years, honestly. And I'll always remember that you cried during our vows. I did too, of course."

You sighed, running your fingers down his face and tracing the frown lines that were unfamiliar to you. "I know it's probably selfish to ask, but can I maybe . . . Stay a little while? I've never met other spider people and maybe since you and I seem to be spliced the same . . . I'd love to see any tricks you have that I haven't learned."

Miguel gave you a genuine smile, tilting his face into your touch and nuzzling your fingertips. "After you called me a shocking rodeo clown?" He teased you, one eyebrow lifted as if in a challenge. "You may not be my y/n but you sure dish it like her. Of course you can stay, I've missed you querida hermosa. We could do some . . . Catching up?"

[adracat]

G-Witch Episode 13 - Second Cour Start

It's been awhile! I'm positively jittery to break down this episode. Let's start with that banger OP change shall we?

I love the imagery in this shot in particular. It's interesting that we see Suletta start in shadow, slowly moving to the light throughout. The symbolism is obviously framing Miorine as the light she seeks (edeleth flashbacks anyone?) Oh and the boys have a brief cameo. Yeesh Guel looks like a defeated wreck. 5lan has weird prominence so I wonder if he'll be something after all. Maybe a heel turn? Antagonist at least judging from the glimpse of Pharact. Shaddiq certainly will be.

Aerial Rebuild my beloved. I love her so much and she looks so stylish in action. But woof, I feel bad for Earth House. They're deeply affected by the terrorist attack, and cringe at the violence involved with duels. Great detail!

Meanwhile, Suletta's persistent cheeriness is a stark contrast. They're puzzled she can remain so blithe about it. Shame they don't know our poor little tomato head has been brainwashed by mother dearest. More on that later.

Miorine on the other hand is going through the wringer. We only see her briefly but it says so much about her mindset. She's dressed in a black business suit, as if already mourning her father and preparing to take his place at Benerit. It's not surprising she's neglecting herself while she watches her father, but you hate to see it.

Prospera: You did the right thing brutally liquidizing that guy, Suletta. Very smart. Another way? Don't be silly. Murder is always ethical.

Lol. Lmao. Ugly crying. You're going to need so much therapy.

I saw this in the promos but it's still crazy they just stroll into the episode like this. This episode humanizes them, which is nice. You glean nuggets of character from Sophie especially. She's an endearing terrorist if nothing else. The detail of naming her stuffed animals her family, the sister moniker for Suletta-- it paints a lonely portrait of a girl desperate for familial connection.

Norea is interesting too, stoic but blatantly disdainful of the luxuries Spacians take for granted. Clean air/water, plentiful vegetation, and even general happiness. All things Earthians lack.

And here comes the Benerit brigade to make their lives worse. I sense super fun times ahead ;-; I do wonder what the endgame for Dawn of Fold is though. They must know attacking Delling would result in violent retaliation. Hm, something to think about.

Good for Nika standing up for herself and Earth House! Sophie and Norea's simple school life might be over soon as it began. Rather audacious they thought murdering a girl on campus wouldn't be noticed lol. Suletta was so dashing protecting her friend 🥺 She may be highly impressionable but she's a good egg. Next episode, it'll be a duel for Nika's life! I can't wait~

And omg Miorine figured it out. This makes the quick fic I wrote canon compliant! Very pleased we solved that misunderstanding quickly.

This is worrisome though. What really is Quiet Zero and why is Delling convinced it'll bring peace? And what will come of Prospera using Mio to further it? Nothing good, I wager.

But enough of all that dire stuff. Let's discuss the phenomenal ED

The first thing that came to mind when seeing this is Utena. What we see here is Suletta and Aerial serving as the Duelist and Witch respectively. It's incredibly smart to have Aerial in the role of unwilling servant/collaborator both for Utena parallels but also for The Tempest. She can't break free from her servitude, trapped as Arial is as a servant of Prospero and Anthy to Akio. Utena/Suletta is the one who struggles against delusion and misguided beliefs. GOD IT'S SO GOOD Y'ALL

The ED is so romantic too, I'm going to faint. They way they look at each other, even Mio who visibly seems uncertain. And the way their joined hands tremble in the last shot? You can feel Suletta's desperation. That collection of Suletta's is so ominous and witchy too. Reminds me of PMMM. (Also confirms Eri clones in Aerial?? Maybe) This season is off to a rocking start <3

[hedgiwithapen]

DHD Prompt: any au, dante realizing cisco has superpowers (+ talking about it for the first time?)

set during 1x16

Dante Ramon was not the kind of person who woke with the sun, or, if he could help it, before midmorning at best. Of course, being a hostage tied to a chair was not exactly conducive to anyone's sleep schedule. So he was awake, fidgeting in his ropes, when his little brother suddenly froze, still holding one of his tiny screwdrivers and the skeletal metal frame of what he'd promised their captors would be a weapon. 

"Cisco," he hissed softly, not wanting to attract attention and also not wanting to get punched in the face again if Cisco stopped working and Snart noticed. "Cisco?"

Cisco dropped the screwdriver, falling backwards hard enough to trip on the chain connecting him to what had once been a mobster's desk, now a captive engineer's workbench. He clutched at his heart with both hands, clawing at the fabric of his sweat-through graphic tee. Dante thought he might scream, but his mouth just hung open, wordless. 

"Cisco?" Dante asked again, more urgently, less concerned for himself. "What--did you shock yourself, or--" He didn't know the first thing about whatever it was Cisco was doing, but it had to have been dangerous. 

Cisco blinked, still clutching at his chest, his breathing a harsh staccato in Dante's ears. "I--I--oh, dios mio, I--."

"What? What happened?" Dante switched to Spanish, just in case anyone was listening.

"I died," Cisco said in the same language. "I was dead, I...felt it. It was so real..."

Dante wanted to scoff a laugh at that. In any other circumstance, he would have. "What do you mean, you died? You're right here, and you gotta finish those things so we can get out of here."

Cisco stood, still wobbly. "I'm not..sure," he said, looking at his hands. "I...It's a theory. Oh god."

"What's a theory?" Dante asked. 

"The accelerator. It affected people..."

"Yeah, like the Flash, I do watch the news sometimes."

"It affected people who were near it. They got powers...when they died."

"I'm sorry, what." Dante said, flat. "That's crazy. I can accept weird laser guns that shoot ice and whatever the hell the Flash is, but--"

"Ok, first of all, it's not a laser," Cisco said, "and I'm not going to explain the science of it because you literally could not understand it, and second of all that's where you suspend your disbelief? Really? Right there?"

"It's 9 am," Dante shot back, " and you're saying you just got resurrected."

"No, I.. I think it was... a vision. Of what was supposed to happen today. The Flash... changed time, uh, yesterday. Reset button. I think...none of this was supposed to happen."

"No shit, this isn't exactly how I like spending my nights," Dante said. "Or mornings. or any time of day."

"Shh, I have to think," Cisco said, going back to his tools. He gripped the tiny screwdriver tightly. Dante rolled his eyes. 

"Ok, so you died. And what, your power is... having a vision of it?"

"I guess," Cisco said. 

Dante clicked his tongue. "The Flash got superspeed, that one dude on the news could set himself on fire and fly, and you get to see... a past that didn't happen. Damn, sucks."

"That dude on the news is engaged to my friend, the one you were flirting with at your party," Cisco said. "And it's not the worst power."

"Not great, either," Dante said, deciding to ignore the part about flirting with a woman who’s fiance might be able to set him on an unfortunate amount of fire. "It's not going to get us out of here."

"Yeah, well that's what my engineering is for," Cisco snapped. "Will you shut up and let me think?"

Dante decided to shut up. 

"What are you doing, chatting instead of working?" Snart asked, lumbering in in his stupid parka, even though it was March and the temperatures had been rising steadily. It hadn't even rained, much less snowed, in weeks. "This isn't social hour."

"Sorry," Cisco said quickly, "I'm working as fast as I can."

"Hm," Snart said, moving towards Dante. "Maybe, or maybe you're stalling. Trying to buy your speedster friend time to find you? Don't try to play me, kid. I told you what would happen if you did."

"Wait," Cisco said, voice rising in panic.

Dante braced for the blow.

There was a crash, a shattering of metal and wood and the thud of a body slamming into something solid, and Dante squinted his eyes open. 

The desk was in what could only be described as shreds, splinters and fragments scattered across the room, and Snart, bleeding from the head, crumbled against the far wall directly under a dent in the wood paneling.

"Cisco, what the--"

"Ok, I think maybe it's not just visions?" Cisco said, his voice still high and startled. "Uh--" he worked his ankle free, the end of the chain no longer attached to anything, and stumbled over pieces of the 3D printer to reach Dante, something sharp in hand. He sawed through the ropes. "We gotta get out of here."

"You think?" Dante said, standing and regretting immediately. His legs felt like static, all pins and needles, but there was no time for that. "Where are we going?"

Cisco shook his head. "I don't know. Not home. And not STAR Labs."

"Why not?" 

"Because that's where my boss killed me."