It’s So Funny To Me How Marco Was Going For Marc’s Neck A Couple Of Years Ago Cuz He “made” Him

Ok u all , ignore my editing skills, but keep this wonderful picture in mind for future use )

Anyway , it would be so crazy if that picture was actually real

Genuinely going insane right now . I’m not gonna be home for the mugello gp this weekend ( my mom gonna watch it for me lmao ) SO OFC THEY HAD TO MAKE THE CUNTiEST CONCEPT KNOWN TO MAN KIND 😭😭😭😭 . Idk why I feel that this go gonna be MESSY ( Valentino I’m looking at u )

Marc better keep his ass on that bike or I’m genuinely gonna crash mine 💀😭

CHAPTER ONE: The Shadow Rider

The engines screamed through the Tuscan hills like thunder in a bottle. Mugello. June 2025. A circuit steeped in glory, blood, and memory.

Marc Márquez sat alone at the back of the VR46 garage, helmet cradled in his hands like a confession. Outside, Pecco Bagnaia’s Ducati purred with the sound of dominance — pole position again. The applause of the tifosi rolled in like a wave. For Marc, it was thunder without rain. Cheers he used to imagine for himself.

He tightened his grip on the helmet.

“You’ve got the talent, but not the discipline.”

Valentino’s voice echoed in his mind , not cruel, just true. Like always.

There was a time Marc dreamed of being under the Honda awning, riding the same bike his older brother Alex had turned into a scalpel. Six-time world champion. Mr. Perfect. The King of Precision. The Márquez name was Alex’s crown, not his.

Marc had taken the other path. VR46 Academy. Not out of love but defiance.

But now, at 28, it felt like his story was still being written in someone else’s font.

“Two minutes,” a mechanic called out. Marc didn’t look up.

Across the paddock, in the golden hue of the Repsol tent, Alex Márquez was already suited, standing tall, serene. Eyes forward. Champion’s focus. The camera crew hovered nearby, drinking in the legend.

Alex didn’t flinch.

Marc watched him from the shadows — the younger brother, the unruly storm to Alex’s pristine sky.

Then, a familiar voice behind him. Low. Graveled.

“Stop watching him. Your race is here.”

Marc turned. Valentino. He hadn’t aged much, but his eyes held weight now. Manager. Mentor. Father figure. Ghost of Sepang past — a past that never fractured them.

Marc bit back a smile. “Can’t help it. The cameras love perfection.”

Rossi cocked his head. “They love a story more. You just haven’t given them the right one yet.”The words stung, but they weren’t wrong.Marc stood. Fastened his helmet. The VR46 leathers creaked as he moved. Bagnaia passed by, already visor-down, a silent nod exchanged. Civil. Cold. Like teammates who used to like each other.

Something had cracked during that race in Le Mans. Pecco pushed wide. Marc dove in. Rubber touched rubber. Marc came out ahead. The Italian press crucified him.

“The brat Márquez strikes again.”

“Rossi’s mistake?”

Pecco never said a word — that was worse than shouting.

Now, here at Mugello, something electric hung in the air. The paddock could feel it. Two riders. One team. No love left. And the ghost of a different Sepang loomed, not between Rossi and Marc, but Pecco and Marc. One spark away from combustion.As Marc walked toward the grid, the sun hit his visor just right. In the reflection, he caught a glimpse of his brother mounting the Repsol Honda across the pit lane.

Their eyes didn’t meet. But maybe they didn’t have to. Maybe the next story wouldn’t belong to either of them — but to the moment that would finally break the silence.

At this point I start to think that Fabio is cursed ( my poor boy😭)

Going trough a writing impulse so enjoy

CHAPTER THREE: Fire Doesn’t Apologize

Monday morning hit like a highside.

Marc Márquez stepped into the VR46 team’s base surrounded by silence. Not cold—just waiting. Mechanics looked up from their screens. Engineers paused mid-keystroke. Conversations died mid-sentence. Everyone knew the numbers. Everyone had seen the headlines.

But it was the way they looked at him that had changed.

Not with pity. Not with awe.

With caution.

Marc dropped his backpack, nodded at no one in particular, and moved toward the briefing room.

He’d felt this before. Not on track—but at home. At ten years old, when Alex won his first junior title. When their father smiled a little longer. When the cameras started showing up for the other Márquez. Marc had always known what it felt like to be noticed too late.

Not this time.

He had forced the world to look.

Even if it hated what it saw.

———

Inside the briefing room, the air was thick. Pecco sat on the far side of the table, arm in a sling, bruised but not broken. His expression was ice.

Marc took the seat opposite. Didn’t flinch. Didn’t apologize.

Valentino entered last.

No VR46 hoodie today. No sunglasses. Just a black t-shirt, a cold stare, and the weight of an empire on his shoulders.

He didn’t sit.

“Let’s begin,” Rossi said, voice flat.

The room stilled.

The head of strategy started in a shaky voice: “We’ve reviewed telemetry, onboard footage, and external angles. There was contact. But no breach of technical rules. Race Direction ruled it a racing incident.”

Marc exhaled, once.

Pecco said nothing.

Rossi turned to Marc. “That’s not what I’m asking.”

Marc met his gaze. “Then ask what you want to ask.”

The room tensed.

Valentino’s voice didn’t rise. It didn’t need to.

“Did you mean to push him off?”

Marc’s silence was an answer.

Valentino stepped forward. “This isn’t about what the stewards say. This is about who we are as a team. What we stand for.”

Marc leaned back in the chair, jaw locked. “You mean who you are.”

Wrong words.

Pecco stood. Chair scraping behind him. “You wrecked everything. The team. The race. My season.”

Marc shrugged. “You left the door open.”

“You forced it off its hinges.”

“Enough!” Rossi barked. For a moment, the Doctor was back. Commanding. Ferocious.

He turned to Marc.

“You think I don’t see it? You think I don’t know what this is? You want to be noticed. You want to matter. But this? This is how you get remembered for the wrong reasons.”

Marc didn’t move. But his voice, when it came, wasn’t angry—it was razor-sharp.

“Then why did I hear my name louder than his?”

Silence. Even Pecco looked away.

Because it was true.

The people had cheered. They had hated him—but they had watched. For once, he wasn’t a side note. He was the story.

“You taught me to fight,” Marc said. “You picked me for this team because you saw fire. But fire doesn’t apologize.”

Valentino stared at him for a long, brutal moment.

Then: “You’re suspended for the next round.”

Gasps. Even Pecco blinked.

Marc’s jaw tensed. “You’re serious?”

“This isn’t about punishment,” Rossi said. “It’s about control. And you’re losing yours.”

Marc stood. “And if I walk?”

“Then walk. But you’ll do it as the rider who was handed everything—and chose chaos instead.”

The words landed like a punch.

Marc didn’t respond. He just left. Walked out of the room, through the paddock, through the stares and the whispers and the storm he had started.

And yet… outside, the fans waited.

Not just one or two. Dozens. Then hundreds.

They chanted his name.

They held signs.

They wanted pictures, autographs—even if they hated him.

Because love fades. Hate fades. But legends don’t.

Marc stopped. Signed a VR46 cap. Smiled at a kid with his number scrawled in marker on his cheek.

He looked up at the cameras watching him from a distance.

Let Rossi suspend him. Let Pecco hate him. Let Alex be disappointed.

He was no longer the shadow.

Roser kissing pecco , so sweet 😭😭😭😭

At this point I feel like she gonna become a pecco fan just to annoy Marc 😅😂

“Shadow of the Champion”

Imagine a world where the winds of fate blew differently—where it was Alex Márquez, not Marc, who rose first, who burned brightest, who became the unstoppable force in MotoGP history. The elder Márquez, stoic and relentless, carved his dynasty with cold precision, claiming title after title while his younger brother, Marc, chased shadows and expectations he could never quite eclipse.

In this alternate timeline, the infamous Sepang Clash of 2015 never happened. Valentino Rossi never accused Marc of sabotage. There was no war, no fractured paddock, no great divide—only uneasy peace and mutual curiosity between the Doctor and the overshadowed younger Márquez.

But everything changes in 2025.

As Marc grows disillusioned riding in his brother’s colossal shadow, he shocks the racing world by signing with VR46, Rossi’s team, searching for a new identity away from the Márquez legacy. Valentino, takes Marc under his wing—not as a rival, but as a prodigy too long eclipsed. Whispers swirl in the paddock: is Rossi building the champion he never had? A younger reflection of himself, full of fire and scars?

But in this twisted mirror world, history has a cruel way of repeating itself.

When the VR46 team rises to dominance, Pecco Bagnaia, the golden boy of the factory Ducati team and Rossi’s original heir, sees Marc’s arrival as a threat—not just to his career, but to everything he thought Rossi stood for. Tensions brew. The championship closes in. Elbows sharpen. And in a dramatic twist of fate, Sepang becomes a battlefield again—this time, not between Marc and Rossi, but Marc and Pecco.

A shove. A stare. A controversy that will define a generation.

First time writing something like this , hope u all gonna like it ;)

So you guys know that trend on tiktok a while ago where people were getting the bite mark of their partner tattooed on them…

I had a rosquez fic idea…

Like Vale and Marc are both absolutely in the throws of being freaky and Vale is like biting at Marc’s thighs (or hips.) Que Marc,turned on out of his mind, starts babbling about how he wants Vale’s teeth/mark on him forever and Vale (turned on out of his mind) at the thought of Marc having VALE’S MARK on him forever is absolutely agreeing. One thing leads to another and suddenly Marc has a tattoo of Vale’s bite mark on his thigh or hip and they are just insufferable.

Time skip to after they fall out and Marc just never gets the tattoo covered up or removed (for what reason I don’t know) but it’s somewhere that’s basically always hidden so he doesn’t worry about anyone seeing it anyway.

ANOTHER TIME SKIP TO 2025, Marc is at the ranch for some reason (they could be trying to reconcile or like pecco invited him for teammate bonding or something) Vale accidentally walks in on Marc changing and spots the tattoo and just freezes. Like he had assumed Marc covered it up or got rid of it. Vale is just going feral cause Marc still.has.the.tattoo but is also having a breakdown cause he’s realizing he’s still in love with Marc. And Marc must feel something for him cause he kept the tattoo…right?

Cue shenanigans of Vale trying to woo Marc before he leaves the ranch. At some point the academy boys are like “we need to help Vale” and it’s everyone trying (and mostly failing) to get Marc and Vale together.

Domenicalli is going to Mugello😭😭😭

Every time he goes to a race Marc crashes on a Sunday

god no!!!!!! i don’t want marc to crash in front of all his opps