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landogalore · 5 months ago

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I KNOW THE END

a formula one inspired mafia story:

MASTERLIST

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When a tragic murder begins the outbreak of a war between powerful families occurs, a desire for revenge. But newly-formed romances also begin to thrive, some between friends, maybe even between sworn enemies.

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WARNINGS: LOTS OF VIOLENCE (so be warned), death, SA, mentions of sex, drugs, etc.

this fic WILL BE ANGSTY, but i promise there’s still smut and fluff.

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CAST:

THE BUTTON FAMILY:

hope fewtrell:

played by madeline argy

lando norris:

played by himself

max fewtrell:

played by himself

lena muni he:

played by olivia rodrigo

logan sargeant:

played by himself

jenson button:

played by himself

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THE HAMILTON FAMILY:

sir lewis hamilton:

played by himself

emmeline hamilton-button:

played by laura harrier

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THE ROSBERG FAMILY:

nico rosberg:

played by himself

freja rosberg:

played by kaleen

kimi antonelli-rosberg

played by himself:

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THE ALONSO FAMILY:

fernando alonso:

played by himself

alejandra maddeline alonso:

played by angelina mango

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THE WEBBER FAMILY:

mark webber:

played by himself

oscar webber-piastri

played by himself

sydney webber:

played by rain spencer

liam lawson:

played by himself

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THE VETTEL FAMILY:

sebastian vettel:

played by himself

quinn ricciardo:

played by benadetta porcaroli

daniel ricciardo:

played by himself

other side characters also included!

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DOOMSDAY.

date: 13th february 2024 || time: 11:31pm

‘Joder, hermosa.’ The man groaned, the tight sensation against his cock causing his muscles to tremble, bucking his hips in a stable rhythm. ‘You feel increíble around me.’

‘Getting so close, Nando.’ She whined, her fingers gripping his ruffled hair with more force, trying to bring more pleasure to her body; enough to let the sensations consume her.

‘Mmm, Mads.’ He hummed at the tugging of her hands, pressing their frames closer, the woman almost able to feel the warm breath that escaped his lips, panting heavily with both lust and exhaustion.

‘I love you so much, Fernando.’ Her mouth moves towards his ears, whispering serenades of praises, the few words sounding like music to him, able to listen to her soft mumbles for eternity.

‘I love you too, mi vida.’ He chuckles, both of them now relaxing after the sheer adrenaline that pumped through the couple’s veins as they reached their highs. ‘Don’t know how I’d survive without you.’

‘I’m not leaving, not just yet.’ Maddeline giggles, nuzzling her now marked neck into his bare chest, allowing her muscles to rest after the romantic session, smiling at the heat that radiated from his skin.

As the two eventually began to drift off into a tranquil state, the sudden blare of sirens started to surround the once calm environment, immediately creating a sense of danger.

‘What was that?’ Her eyes blurted open, alarmed by the loud noise ringing in her ears, concerned about what was happening.

‘Don’t worry, cariño. You stay here, I’ll sort it out.’ Her husband reassured, planting a soft kiss on her forehead to promise their safety, the man climbing out of bed to wear something appropriate for the serious situation occuring.

Desperate to sort the issue so he could go back to his wife, Fernando slams the door open, marching down the elegant hallways as if he was on a mission, phone firmly gripped in his fingertips. ‘Carlos, get ready. Business to attend to.’ He declared, gaining as many forces as possible. The alarms were only triggered by something drastic, but Maddeline didn’t need to know that.

The angered man continued storming through the house, the device originally grasped replaced for a gun, loaded and prepared to fire if necessary.

‘Ready?’ Fernando makes his way to the entrance, added forces waiting for him to announce the attack on the intruders outside.

‘We’re ready, jefe.’ Carlos replied, weapon firmly gripped in his palms, holding it up towards his eye, able to get a perfect shot if bullets immediately began firing.

The blinding headlights shone as they exited the house, blocking the view of who was actually there unless they approached further.

‘Fernando Alonso.’ A somewhat familiar voice spoke, a stern tone prominent in his voice, whoever it was here was for business purposes only.

‘I’d recognise that Australian accent from anywhere, you’re one of Webbers.’ The group moved cautiously, trying to see the faces that they could only perceive through their speech.

Adjusting to the harsh light, a younger, brunette man leaned on his car, practically staring down the boss in the centre, un-phased by who he was sending daggers towards.

‘Oscar Webber-Piastri.’ Fernando eventually recognised him, unable to not remember the same sarcastic and unbothered personality the boy seemed to cherish. ‘Where’s your daddy?’ He asked, the delightful presence of his father sadly not present in this feud.

‘My dad is not here, sorting out other important duties, you know, actual necessities.’ Oscar huffed, annoyed at the older man’s childish remark, despite being 23.

‘So what are you doing here? Daddy send you to do his dirty business?’ He snickered back, maybe if he could get into the fragile boy’s mind he would be less defensive when the weapons began firing.

‘No, my dad sent me to cause some damage.’ Still emphasising that Mark was not his ‘daddy’, the enemy smiled, a wicked glint in his supposed innocent-appearing eyes.

‘Then what are you waiting for, huh?’ Fernando teased, waiting for the boy to actually make a move instead of standing there and attempting to intimidate him. ‘Do you even know how to use that little toy you like to call a gun-’

*BANG*

‘CHECO!’ The loud screams of Alejandra’s filled the atmosphere as the bullet ripped through the man’s skull, the explosion sending blood everywhere as he fell dramatically to the floor.

‘Told you I knew how to use it, old man.’ Oscar smirked, proud of his accomplishment. ‘I said I was here to cause damage, and I think I’ve already caused a bit of commotion.’

‘Fuck you, you’re asking for it now, cabrón.’ The man seethed, anger fuelling his muscles as his arms jerked up, pressing the trigger on the pistol, beginning the shower of gunfire.

Bullets flew across the two groups, most hiding behind any shelter they could discover to protect themselves, not wanting their last moment to be this very scene.

‘Shit.’ Alejandra cursed, the soaring metal basically skimming her body as she ducked behind one of the cars, scouring the surroundings every so often to check if any enemies could be nearby.

‘Looking for me, darling?’ The voice boomed, the girl’s eyes widening in fear as she recognised the same Australian accent that made people shiver, the person who just murdered one of her father’s loyal workers in cold blood, unable to show a slight indication of remorse.

‘You gonna shoot me too, Piastri?’ She challenged, anger clearly prominent in her voice as she glared at the armed man.

‘Maybe.’ Oscar debated, moving the gun closer to the girl, aiming directly at her forehead.

‘You shoot me and I’ll shoot you. Seems pretty fair.’ The woman added, similarly moving her weapon to a vulnerable area, one click and he would drop dead. ‘You’re not going to, are you? You won’t as much as you might want to.’ Alejandra continued to tease, inheriting the same manipulative skills as her father.

‘Don’t worry, I will eventually.’ His eyes squint, rage consuming his pupils, visibly angered by her attitude that she couldn’t help but smirk at the effect she had on the boy.

*BANG*

All heads swiftly turned to the slamming of the entrance door, an older man storming out.

‘Mark Webber.’ Fernando remained shocked, wondering how weak his security must’ve been to allow the mafia boss to waltz into his home so easily. The house where his wife is sleeping peacefully.

‘Fernando Alonso, it’s been a while.’ Mark greeted, being a long time since he paid the Spaniard a very welcoming visit. ‘Sadly I can’t stay long, my work here is done.’ He almost pouts at the situation, heading back towards the cars. ‘Oscar, come on.’

‘You got lucky, darling.’ He removed the weapon from her head, appearing dissapointed that he was not able to cause any more wreckage.

‘Your wife says hello.’ Mark snickered as he entered the parked vehicle, and that was finally the breaking point.

‘MADDELINE!’ The husband’s voice echoed around the house, desperate for some sort of signal that she was safe, and that all that Mark had spoke was just some scare to make the man weak.

But that theory all came crashing down when he walked into the bedroom. There she lay, once sleeping peacefully for the night. Now resting forever in a pool of her own crimson fluids.

‘Máma?’ Alejandra peeked through before immediately turning away, a slight sickening taste building up in her throat. Usually it would not phase her, but seeing her own mother in that state broke her.

‘Hey, come here tesoro.’ Carlos comforted, wrapping his arms around her as she dipped her head in his chest, allowing the tears to flow down her face, attempting to block out the scene before her.

‘Don’t worry mi vida.’ Fernando was overwhelmed by the crushing feeling of grief in his heart, but it was slowly developing to an enraged desire.

‘I’ll get my revenge for you.’

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HOPE YOU ENJOY! <3

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meowmeowmeowmeow4x · 8 months ago

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Dark Blue Moon and the Suffering Sun Chapter 10

MASTERPOST

I hope you enjoy reading <3 comment and reblog, it relaly helps!

Underneath the hot summer sun, Damian lay fat on Danny’s belly as the older boy lazily drifted underneath the water’s surface. Well, drifting was a strong word, as Damian estimated they were still going at about 20 miles an hour, but considering Danny’s top speed, it probably was like a peaceful drift.

The ocean water was crystal clear, all the way down to the shallow floor beneath them, as patterns shifted and ebbed with the movement of the waves. It was very much welcome change from the dark ravine they’d just evacuated.

They swam close enough to the surface that Damian could occasionally peek his eyes over the water. It was probably the first time he’d touched air since he woke up a changed being. It felt hot, quite hot in fact. Damian looked up to the sun, before quickly ducking back down as the harsh glare blinded his sensitive eyes.

“You’ll get used to it.” Danny had said. Damian resigned himself to idly batting away at the surface, watching the streaks and waves created by the speed of his hands pushing the water apart.

It was amusing. The peace helped to keep certain thoughts out of his mind for a little. But Damian was nothing if not decisive, and he would put the concerns that nipped at his fins to rest.

“I take back what I said. Earlier.” Damian muttered.

“Sorry, what?”

“About you being a poor excuse for a hero. All I have done is antagonize and belittle you, and yet you still choose to burden yourself with me.”

“Damian I feel like we’ve been over this.”

Damian crossed his arms. “No, that was for leading you into danger.”

“Well your forgiveness coupon extends to past grievances too this time.” Danny said, a ghost of a smirk gracing his translucent skin.

“You have shown a great heroic spirit. When I came to Amity Island, the reports of your character were confusing, and contradictory. Now that I have seen your actions with my own eyes, I can see the truth…”

“Aw, Damian…” Good grief, he was about to start getting mushy again. Damian had to stop this.

“You are just as much an obnoxious goody two shoes as my eldest brother.”

“You know? I’ll take it, backhanded compliment or no.”

Damian slapped his tailfin on Danny’s stomach. The older boy only laughed, that same obnoxiously contagious mirth that only Richard could produce. Damian lowered his head into his crossed arms, disguising any peeking grin with a pout.

Knock, knock, knock.

Bruce Wayne had made a note to visit Fentonworks sometime during their visit, but circumstances have moved that trip up his timeline. He took in the maddening contraption that was this building. There was no building code in the world that would allow this thing to stand. Above the brick and mortar, winding metal pipes lead into what appeared to be a huge radio tower complete with observation deck. Bruce could practically feel the stress those pipes had to take. It was so top heavy it was a miracle a stiff breeze hadn’t knocked the entire house down. He would definitely not want to be the poor sap who had to enforce building codes round here. Considering the Fenton’s penchant for shooting first, it would not be surprising if they had shot at them, likely yelling accusations of “collusion with the sirens!”

However, these people were his best lead, and he needed to follow it. For Damian’s sake, and for his.

The door swung open, revealing Maddeline Fenton in her signature jumpsuit, the hood pulled down and hair slightly disheveled. From the search, or out of worry for her wayward son?

It had been a good twenty-four hours since Damian had been dragged into the water by an unknown party. The moment Bruce noticed the beeping alerting that Damian’s tracker was going critical, he went into Batman mode right then and there, rushing to the scene of the crime. However, what he found instead was fourteen-year-old Daniel Fenton standing over the peer, a haunted look on his face.

Bruce had asked him if he was ok, before local authorities separated then and corralled them away from the scene, setting up tape and warning signs. Bruce verbally wrestled with them, demanding to let him see if his son was alright. However, as far as they knew, he was just a normal man, in no way equipped to dive into the depths and fist fight sea monsters.

It was at times like this that he cursed the need for secrecy.

Bruce didn’t see Daniel Fenton again. When he asked around, nobody had either.

Barred from joining the search physically, Bruce was given free access to the security footage in the area, searching in conjunction with other investigators, as per his insistence. While he recovered barely anything useful for Damian, it did show Daniel’s last appearance being around ten minutes after Bruce had found him. Daniel had slipped out of the crowd, last seen heading toward the cliff-face on the far side of town. Bruce sent off the info to the police and GiW as soon as he found out.

That lead him here. To console, but also to interrogate.

“Oh, Mr Wayne! We weren’t expecting you.”

She led Bruce into the living room, seemingly a very normal and domestic place, but a closer look revealed dozens of spare parts scattered around tables and desks and shoved to the side to make room for more unfinished inventions. The living room was adjacent to the kitchen, and Bruce could almost swear he saw glowing blue slime dripping out of it.

“Jack! We have a guest!” Maddeline called out, before inviting Bruce to sit down with some tea. “I’m terribly sorry, we weren’t expecting visitors. And I’m so sorry about your son. That close to shore, our preliminary bouy should’ve been able to detect the attack. We’re not sure what happened…” she trailed off.

All these facts Bruce knew well. He had been briefed on them in the early hours of the search, while there was still much hope to be hand.

“Actually, Dr Fenton, I was visiting to give my condolences about your own son. I know with all the talk about such a high-profile case, it’s easy for other cases to be swept under the rug, but that would be unfair for you.”

Madeline’s face warped not into sadness, or depression, but confusion. “Excuse me? Danny’s been staying at Tucker’s house at the weekend.”

Bruce opened his mouth to interrupt, but Madeline beat him to the punch. “Sorry, please give me a moment.”

She rushed over to an old landline hanging by the wall next to a pair of precariously placed prototypes for some kind of futuristic gun. Rapidly punching in what he recognized was the Foley house’s number, Madeline yanked the phone out of its receiver.

“Angela? Angela, is Danny there, I need to speak to him… What?!” Madeline’s face twisted into shock. Her left hand cradelling the landline, her right hand stroking her hair repteadly. “Danny told me he’d be staying at your house. Yes, yes. Please do so. Thank you Angela. I’ll call Pamela now.”

She hung up. Another rapidly inputted number later, and a second call went through. “Pamela, I’ve been told that Danny’s been staying with Sam. Is he there? I urgently need to speak to him.”

This time, the response was very audible. Bruce could hear a raised, ranting voice, a far cry from the sickly sweet dulcet tones ‘Brucie’ Wayne had been subjected to the night before. “Pamela I need you to listen to me. Danny told me that he’d be staying with Angela. Angela told me that Tucker told her that they’d be in your house. And now you’re saying Sam’s taken them all to a camping trip on the mountain? Yes… yes. I know.”

Just at that moment, Jack Fenton, barreled into the room, emerging from a set of stairs leading into the kitchen, a tray of chocolate fudge cookies steaming in his gloved hands.

“Brucie Wayne!” The man put down the tray of cookies and rushed over to Bruce, where Bruce’s hands were almost crushed by the vigorous handshake the man gave him.

“Listen, Brucie,” Jack Fenton’s voice lowered. “I really wanted to say we’re sorry abou-“

Before Jack could finish what he was saying, Madeline grabbed him by the collar. “We have to go, Jack! To the SAV!”

Bruce stood up. “I’m coming with you.”

That might have been a mistake. Jack Fenton grabbed his hand again with that bone crushing grip and pulled him outside. Madeline pressed a button on a remote, revealing a garage housing the scientific marvel and engineering horror of the Fentons’ hand-crafted and customised tank of a… duck boat.

The exterior was sleek white with silver lines, with reinforced tires on the bottom and a hull wide enough to float on water. The top sported a radar dish, and Bruce identified several seams all across the boat, likely where some of the numerous weapons the Fentons made were hiding.

Of course, Bruce had seen this thing in action before, and the only thing worse than Jack’s sailing was his driving.

“Come on Brucie, we can talk more on the way!”

Meanwhile, in the middle of the ocean…

“It is pitiful how much Richard adores that, that Jaws film.” Damian’s disgust is palpable in his low glare, a disgust mirrored by Danny’s own gag.

“Dude, no way. I hate that fuckin’ movie so goddamn much. Imagine making a movie where tiny puppies start mauling people to death for no reason!”

Damian nodded, sagely. “It is anti-shark propaganda in the finest, and its disavowal by its direct is incredibly telling.”

“I think the Dolphin Mafia were behind it.” Damian considered this thought. How he would love for that to be true, so he could sink his teeth into some dolphin flesh in revenge for what they did to him and to shark reputations worldwide. “Like dude! Sharks are the cuddliest fish on the planet! They don’t even fight sirens, let alone humans. Pretty sure sea urchins cause more injuries. Hell I think the siren attack numbers are about to overshoot them.”

“If the Dolphin Mafia do exist, I will make it my mission to hunt them down, and devour them all.” Damian said with fatal finality.

A beat passed. Danny blinked. “Dude, aren’t you a vegetarian?”

“… Perhaps.”

“Isn’t it like, a moral thing for you? Don’t tell me the siren instincts are messing up your brain chemistry. I literally wouldn’t know how to explain that to Bruce and I’m already fearing for my life.”

“I am of my right mind. It is just that I intend to slay them regardless, so why let their flesh go to waste?”

“You know stuff doesn’t go to waste in the ocean? Like, if you don’t eat it, there’s a million other tiny organisms waiting in line for you. That’s how the freaking ecosystem works.”

Damian considered these words. While yes, it was a relief that killing the Dolphin Mafia (if they did exist) would not necessitate their consumption to prevent wastage, it was oh so tempting to dominate them in the traditional fashion of supreme ocean animals…

“It is worth considering. I will ponder my decision at a later date.”

“I’ll pretend that isn’t utterly scary.”

Damian’s thoughts turned to another pod of dolphins… “That being said, I should like to relieve Skulker of his hunting dolphins.”

“You mean hunting… doglphins?” Danny said with another infuriating grin. Damian went to bad it away, only to get stopped by the older boy holding him back with a finger.

“Let me finish my point! If you intend to continue making inane puns, this journey will be difficult.”

Danny laughed.

“I am serious!”

Danny laughed again, provoking Damian to launch himself at the older boy’s face with a snarl. The boys tumbled and tussled through the water as they play fought…

Bruce was beginning to get nauseous.

His pleas for safer driving went largely ignored. “Sorry Bruce it’s an emergency!” Which left him to helplessly cling to his seat for dear life as Jack pulled sharp turns at top speed, and barrelled through barricades.

The SAV’s alarm sirens (how ironic) blared at full volume as Madeline’s voice blasted through a megaphone. “This is a siren emergency! Please be on the lookout for Sam Manson, Tucker Foley and our baby sweetkins Danny Fenton! HOLD ON TIGHT BABY BOY, WE’RE COMING FOR YOU!”

Scanning the streets for the teens while praying for God for safety from a civilian’s driving was not on his agenda today.

“You doing ok back there, Mr Wayne?” Madeline asked. Bruce grimly nodded.

Jack Fenton swerved through a roundabout, heading for the mountain.

If Bruce’s intuition on teenagers was worth anything (and it had to be worth anything, considering the years he spent wrangling some of the craftiest, most rebellious teenagers on the planet), those kids were definitely hiding something. He just had to find out…

#dpxdc #danny fenton #merman #damian wayne #dcxdp #merboy #mermaid au #less angst #fluff #jaws is propaganda #jack fenton #bruce wayne #maddie fenton

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