Old Prompts | Drabbles | First Batch (English).
It was really stupid of him, really, he took the wrong alley after finishing his shift at the hospital and next thing he knew, there was a guy with a knife pressed against his throat and a raspy voice telling him to drop his bag on the floor and take off his shoes. And he would have obliged, really, because he’s not stupid and Miguel’s appreciates his life a lot, being a doctor can do that to you, mind you.
But he was in a bad mood.
He couldn’t think straight while being in a bad mood.
So he told the robber to piss off and hit him with his elbow, hit him hard on the stomach. And then the guy got mad, really, really mad and pressed him against the floor and then—-
And then he was gone. In the blink of an eye, he was gone and when Miguel got off the floor and went back to his feet, he could swear he saw a cape moving at the end of the alleyway.
Manuel looks at the figure in the interrogation room and sighs, running a hand through his hair. He’s tired as fuck after an entire day of work and the guy sitting there it’s like the cherry on top of a really, really awful cake. He opens the file with the guy’s profile and shakes his head, somehow, he’s already tired of seeing his face.
His partner smiles at him, pats him on the back and tells him to hurry up before it takes any longer. “You want to go home, isn’t it?” Luciano asks, already done with his shift. Manuel glares at him.
“Why are you even a cop?”
He gets into the room before hearing Luciano’s answer and stares at the guy he’s so tired of seeing. “So… we meet again, Prado.”
“Hey there, you’re my favorite cop.” Prado bats his eyelashes at him and sprawls himself all over the table as Manuel cringes at his manners. “This is like… the third time?”
“Exactly, anyone would think you should know how to avoid the cops by now, isn’t it?” Manuel raises a thin eyebrow at him and Miguel laughs.
“What if I just want to see your face?”
“What if I don’t want to see your face?”
“You’re such a spoilsport!”
Manuel wishes he could throw himself out of the window. “Just talk, okay? About whatever the fuck did you do this time.”
“Then we’ll stay here all night.”
Miguel’s smile is the most terrifying thing Manuel has ever seen. And next time he knows, Miguel is standing by his side and whispering some nonsense in his ear. He makes him shudder a little.
“Well, I’m not really busy tonight.”
Perú/Chile - Window (Historical).
There’s this window in Manuel’s old bedroom at the hacienda where he grew up, that faces the orchard and the sun every morning. And in that same wall, the copihues climb all the way from the floor to the window. If you look at it from a distance, it looks like an old painting.
It is also, the window Miguel used to throw stones at when they were little kids, those times when Antonio visited and he would bring Miguel with him and the kids would stare at each other in silent awkwardness until Miguel broke the silence and dragged Manuel to play.
(And Miguel, who always wanted to run around the fields and roll over the pumpkins like a little kid, used to throw stones at Manuel’s beautiful window so he would wake up and come play with him.)
It is also, the window of their first kiss.
(It’s the memory of a heated afternoon on a Sunday, of wet fingertips on Manuel’s neck and a trembling hand on Miguel’s hip and hearts that could beat faster than the sound.)
fem!Perú/fem!Chile - Fairytale AU.
Micaela rides her dragon with pride, as she hatched her baby by herself, after finding the egg at the bottom of a river close to a volcano, engulfed by flames her iron armor successfully defeated. She has become a knigh and she has become a rider, and she’ll rescue the princess that lives at the bottom of the abyss, she’s sure of it.
At least, she thought it would be that simple. Getting to the abyss was a piece of cake, trying to convince the princess to come with her is—- not.
She offers her hand at her and she only frowns, hiding between the shadows. Micaela can’t see her face, the abyss is too dark and the shadows are even darker. It’s nothing like the stories about princesses being locked up in towers that she heard when she was a little girl. And she pities this princess for living in the dark during so long.
“Come with me” She says, gently, her dragon protecting her back as she waits for the princess to come out of her corner. “We won’t hurt you, just come with us.”
Micaela hears the princess take a deep breath and the next thing she sees is a small girl, thin like a ballerina, with hair short as a tiny fairy and a lovely face marred by a scowl. She takes her hand and Micaela rejoices.
“You’re just like in fairytales.”
The princess looks puzzled. (And annoyed, because she knows everything and she doesn’t like to feel like an ignorant.)
“Like a real princess, so… will you give me your name, your majesty?”
Her princess blushes and stays quiet as Micaela helps her to sit on the back of her dragon, as they stay close to ride. She gets even redder when Micalea holds her by the waist, when she feels the sky so close to her.
“Manuela” She whispers, as her knight in shining armor kisses her cheek. “My name is Manuela.”
Brasil/Argentina - Mafia AU Week.
He’s clad in Armani and it’s like a walking cliché. Luciano has known him since they were both kids, since they were too small to even walk. He even knows how Martín looks on diapers.
And he also knows, they could have had so many things before their paths diverged. Now he knows, he couldn’t have done a thing to change the way things are know, because Martín is a big boy and Luciano isn’t his caretaker. And they are both capable of making their own choices.
Even if Luciano doesn’t really like where they stand now.
“You know,” He says, a drink on his hand as they both sit outside an old bar in a shady alley. “You just robbed a bank and I’ll have to report that. It’s my job.”
He looks at Martín from the corner of his eye and catches his smooth smile. Idiot is drinking scotch, like he had class or something.
“You do your job, I’ll do mine” Martín smiles at him and Luciano puts down his drink, and it’s a challenge. He knows, Martín knows. Their entire relationship is based on knowing.
“We’ll see if you catch me at the end of the day.”
And with a fickle of his lighter and cigarette’s smoke, he’s gone again.
Perú/fem!Chile - Mafia AU Week.
She knows he’s lying to him, she knows because of the way his left eyelid trembles when he looks at her as they talk. Manuela gets mad at him for lying to her and throws a pillow to his face.
“I’m going to ask you again,” She says, to terribly infuriated Miguel started to fear for his life. “And this time, you are going to tell me the truth. Where the fuck are you going and why are you hiding it from me?”
Miguel scratches his head and looks at his feet, embarrassed at how easily she can read him. He sits on the border of the bed as she waits for an answer, arms crossed and really, really angry.
“You’re going to give me help for this,” He laughs bitterly, and he takes a big breath before speaking again, feeling his back cold. “So, my dad has this… weird business and I needed a loan to pay our house, you know?”
“Yes, yes, I remember… wait, you got involved with your dad’s stuff?” She raises her voice a little and Miguel cringes, because he knows he’s in trouble. Manuela grabs his face by the cheeks, framing it, and when she looks at him it’s with worry instead of rage.
“Well, I didn’t want our kids to sleep on the streets!”
“We could have asked our friend, you dumbass!”
“It’s already done, okay?” He sinks on the bed, his shoulders low and Manuela holds him close to her chest.
“What have you done?” She asks in a whisper, as Miguel holds her back and closes his eyes.
“You don’t really want to know.”
fem!Brasil/Argentina - Creeper AU Week.
The fog won’t let them see anything and it’s useless to even try to light up a candle or a lantern. Martín orders his men to be careful and stay wary of every noise as they navigate the waters. He closes his eyes and it’s the same as the fog, for when he opens them he’s still blind to what’s coming towards his ship. It frustrates him.
But as soon as he hears the voices, he knows they are lost. Voices on the sea are always a bad signal, and he tries to turn away and go back but it’s too late now, they are too close to them and they have them surrounded. He runs to the border of the ship and when he looks down they are there, the most beautiful creatures that the ocean holds for them.
One by one, his men fall prey to their charms and soon enough, Martín is the only living soul on his ship. He holds a torch on his left hand and a sword on his right hand and he waits. He knows they want power, he knows they want him and he knows, they’ll come. They’ll come and they’ll grab him by the arms and the legs, they’ll come and they’ll his soul and they won’t rest until everyone is dead.
And then she’s there, smiling at him from the border of the ship. She has the most beautiful smile, and hair that frames her lovely face and falls over her back as if she were showering on the night. And her big, lively brown eyes seem to invite him to dance.
And so, he gets closer to her and drops his sword and his torch and lets her hold him close to her, her gorgeous lips moving against his, and her firm breasts pressed against his chest. His hands run over her waist and he asks, as he kisses her, what’s her name.
Luciana, she says, with a small laugh, and then she pulls him closer. And closer, and closer, and closer.
And then, there’s only water.
