#and i feel like i took some liberties about this moment and what it led to/meant for logan

[teddy06writes]

Whumptober Day 16 - Umbrella Academy

Umbrella Academy (unit) x sibling!reader

Prompt: I did good, right?

Trigger Warnings: Canon Typical violence, major character death, one (1) swear from Diego

Summary: A mission gone wrong forces you to over use your powers, pushing you too far. Readers powers are a bit under described, the general idea is that they can manipulate time, which ends up backfiring.

Reader is referred to as Eight.

This mission wasn't going well. Maybe you should've have taken Ben's feeling that something was wrong more seriously. But what could you have done? Refused to go and face worser punishment?

The more you thought about it, you had no clue what your father was thinking. The Umbrella Academy was powerful, yes, but what were a group of twelve year olds to a group of terrorists with a bomb?

Around you, Luther, Diego, Five and Allison were grappling with the terrorists, fighting for their lives, if you were honest. Whoever the hell these guys were supposed to be, they were well trained. Somewhere, Klaus was supposed to be freeing hostages.

You chuckled to yourself, bitterly.

They had all gotten the easy jobs.

You knelt before the bomb, desperately trying to discover a way to diffuse it without setting off it's fail safe. At your back, Ben stood on guard, having taken down the few men that were devoted to watching the bomb.

"Any chance you've figured it out yet?" Ben asked, ever impatient.

You swallowed thickly, brushing hair from your face with the back of your hand, "Not exactly."

"And how much time do we have?"

Your eyes flicked back to the tiny, taunting LED screen and it's ticking clock, "About 90 seconds."

"Should i-"

"Shut up and let me think!" You snapped.

You had already managed to pry open the casing surrounding the eternal wiring, it was just a matter of making sense of what you found there. God, maybe you should have paid more attention to your fathers lessons. Or maybe he should've diversified the systems you'd had to practice on.

The seconds ticked on, and you looked miserably down at the floor, "If I had more time maybe-"

"Hey dumbass," Diego yelled as he went running by, "That's your whole thing!"

Five, who had been hot on his tail skidded to a stop besides Ben, "You haven't figured it out yet?"

You gritted your teeth, "No, brother dearest."

"You'd better get on that."

You glared up at him, "No shit."

Allison appeared, tugging at the back of Five's blazer, "Come on, we have to go help Klaus with the hostages."

You took a deep breath, blocking them out, and drawing on your powers. The world around you began to slow, until your siblings were hardly moving.

The count down clock wavered, before stopping with a bright 0:45.0809 frozen into its face.

You took a moment to breathe, watching the final 09 slowly tick to a 08. This was certainly the slowest you'd ever brought time to, and you could already feel it beginning to drain you.

Now, with more time than ever, you set back to work on defusing the bomb before you.

~~

What felt like nearly an hour later, (the count down clock only read 0:45.0789 when it stopped), you removed the last wire, confident that the bomb was finally inert.

From there you began the simple but satisfying work of finishing the mission before the rest of your siblings could, pulling Luther's hardly moved body out of the way to drag the last man over and tie him with the others.

You also took the liberty of untying the hostages, posing your siblings ludicrously and tying Diego's shoelaces together.

You gave your handiwork a satisfied once over before drawing on your powers again to speed time back up.

Only, nothing seemed to happen.

You tried again, clenching your fists and focusing.

Time seemed to start to speed back up around you, but some invisible force was holding you back, making your movements slowed and sluggish.

With one final burst of energy, this time focused on yourself, you seemed to rip back into the correct time- and promptly fell to the floor, utterly exhausted.

When you went to push yourself up to see the looks on your siblings faces when they realized you'd gone and done everything without them, your arm seemed to buckle beneath you.

"Eight-" Allison gasped, looking at you with wide eyes of terror.

"Ally, whats-"

Ben was crowding into your side suddenly, trying to sit you up, "Hey, hey, what's going on, what did you do?"

"What-" Your head was suddenly swimming, and you couldn't even bring yourself to laugh when Diego tripped over himself trying to cross the room.

"What did you do?" This time it was Five demanding it, looking over your in confusion and horror.

"Somebody call Dad!" Luther was demanding.

Somewhere, Klaus was making a noise of panic, and scrambling off to wherever your father had been watching all of this.

You looked down at your hands, suddenly finding them worn and wrinkled, "What's going on.... I-"

Ben stared down at your rapidly aging face, "Eight, hold on, Dad's coming. Dad's gonna fix this."

"I did good right? I- I stopped the bomb-" You were just so tired, but Ben kept shaking you. Allison was at your other side, clutching at your hand.

Behind the cluster of your siblings heads, you could see Diego and Klaus pleading with your father to do something.

"Number Eight has brought this upon themself. Had they kept up their studies, or maintained vigilance during training sessions, none of this would have happened...."

You tried to squeeze Allison's hand, but couldn't find the strength, "I just need some rest, Ally, I just need to sleep this off..."

Your eyes were just so heavy. Even if you weren't giving in to the feeling of sleep, pulling you deep into the darkness, you wouldn't have been able to fight it.

"Eight- eight!"

[merbear25]

hey, I am currently really smitten with Corazon from one piece and unfortunately I have read all fanfics related to him there are. And so I will be more than happy if you maybe have time and will to write about Rosinant × fem reader (established and commited relationship where both reader and Rosinant are really nice people) where they are having smut time in their shared room and someone walk on them since Rosinant used his calm calm fruit power. But if you, whatever reason, dont want to write it, dont feel pressured :) Have a nice day

Hello! Thank you so much for sending this in! Rosi needs all the love he can get. I decided to take some creative liberties, so I hope what I’ve come up with is to your liking. 💜💜

There weren’t many either of you could consider yourselves close to. Despite the dangers that came with it, you both pursued a romantic relationship. Even though your love rang true, Rosinante couldn’t bear the thought of you getting hurt as a result of your connection to him—choosing to keep your love a secret. The moments of intimacy you shared were few and far between, but when you found the time, you blocked out the rest of the world, willingly losing yourselves in shared love and passion.

CW: NSFW, MDNI, fem!reader, established relationship, some fluff, fingering, vaginal penetration, cream pie, light humor at the end.

Can’t have a moment’s privacy (Corazon)

You were everything he wanted but thought he didn’t deserve. The threat of the rest finding out about your affair and in turn the secret he’d been withholding was ever present. Scampering off in search of privacy was becoming increasingly riskier, but you couldn’t resist. You wanted to hold each other if only for a moment.

While you were walking down the hall, the loving tug of your hand led your eyes to your boyfriend. Rosinante put his finger up to his lips, sensing you were about to pose a question.

Motioning for you to follow him, you took a double-take around you before trailing after him. Leading you to a room in the back corners of the castle, he opened the door to introduce you to the project he’d been working on.

With the door shut and his devil fruit power activated, he asked in a hushed tone, “What do you think?” His voice held a twinge of uncertainty.

Candles had been placed to illuminate the stone walls, offering warmth to the otherwise dead-cold atmosphere. The incense did well to cover the musk, heightening the senses. There  were rose petals laid out in intricate patterns, giving an invitation to make oneself feel at home.

“It’s wonderful,” you whispered.

His arms wrapped around you and his head rested upon yours. “I’m so glad, dear.”

Turning yourself to face him, you cupped his cheek. His hand rested on yours, while your eyes explored the depths of your mutual connection. You leaned up to kiss him and were met half-way. Soft lips parting, your tongues lightly tangling with the other’s, and your hands wandering over each other’s bodies: with such few opportunities to enjoy intimacy, you nearly forgot what the other felt like, what they tasted like.

Rosinante gently urged you to sit down. “Take a seat, my darling.” 

You felt so much more dwarfed as he hunched down to kiss you. Kneeling down, his kisses migrated to your neck, down your chest, then to your abdomen. With his hands kneading your thighs, massaging the inner parts of them, he looked up at you as if pleading.

“I want to taste even more of you. May I?” 

The flush pickled your cheeks at his gentlemanly request. You nodded, a shy smile gracing your appearance.

You shifted your hips so as to help him slip your pants off. He took your underwear off with it, allowing his eyes to fall on your beauty easily.

Your heart pounded as his caress worked up your inner thighs. His thumb rubbed your slit, gingerly focusing on your clit as if he were touching something so delicate and rare.

It’d been far too long since the last time you were intimate. The trembling and gasping was impossible to suppress—thank god for his devil fruit. You saw no reason to hold back. The opportunity to allow yourself to live in the moment was few and far between.

With your gasps turning into moans, he pressed his lips against your aching core. His tongue made itself at home between your folds, particularly around your sensitive bundle of nerves: swirling, sucking, his breath hot against your skin.

Not wanting to risk hurting you, he started stretching you out with just one finger. Your body took to it readily—eager for more. With the spasming of your walls and arching of your back, he knew you could take more. Burying his fingers deep inside you, he lapped up each wet quake you gifted him with.

“Please,” you whimpered. “We don’t know how long we have.” Your voice was laced with a budding sadness for the reality you lived in.

“I want to feel all of you, Rosi,” you begged.

“Oh, darling, come here.” The affection held in his voice further casted out the prior chill of the room.

Planting a firm kiss on your lips and letting your passion linger between them for a moment longer, he positioned himself in between your legs. His heart racing, adrenaline pumping through his veins: he wasn’t sure how long you had or how long he would be able to last, but oh how he missed moments like this.

Barely pressing into you and he already had you tossing your head back. Seeing you in such an intense trance of euphoria so quickly—he couldn’t help but smile out of relief. He wanted you to enjoy this just as much as he was going to.

Pushing deeper, he began pumping: slowly and deliberately. Despite your eagerness, you still had limits, ones which he was more aware of than you at that moment.

“You’re perfect,” he groaned while your body welcomed him. “So good for me, baby.”

With his pace quickening, each thrust brought on more and more intense surges of ecstasy. You were so wound up that you were already on the verge of snapping.

He was well aware of it—feeling you clamp around him out of desperation the nearer you came to the edge.

“I love you so much!” You cried out. Your sobs filled the rooms, being accompanied by the sound of wet skin slapping.

‘I-I love you too,” he gasped from the build-up reaching its peak. “Ah-ha! Fuck!”

Forcing himself deeper, your body followed suit. The sensation of you reaching your climax after him, squeezed out every lingering feeling of desire.

“Holy shit!” He cursed his body convulsing from the sudden rush.

With no more than a moment to collect yourselves, your eyes fell behind him to the open door. Panicking, you slapped at his thigh and called his attention to it.

The rear end of the maid pushing herself into the room as she swept gave both of you a fright you never wanted to experience.

You covered your face in hopes of her not being able to report to anyone or gossip, but Rosinante wasn’t as quick to act. He stared at her, eyes as wide as dinner plates as the maid turned around only to be faced with an unprecedented sight.

Luckily, she immediately apologized and shielded her eyes so fast that there was little chance she had enough time to remember any details.

After the door slammed shut, he let out a sigh of relief.

“You didn’t lock the door?” You berated him.

[dean-winchester-is-a-warrior]

The Dangers of Hope Ch. 6

Series Summary: When Y/N shows up at Camp Chitaqua with her little girl in tow, her bloodshot eyes leave no doubt that she's infected. Or is she? Everything Dean has come to know for certain over the last five hellish years, is about to be challenged.

Pairings/Characters in the series: Endverse!Dean x Reader, Emma (OFC), Castiel, Sam Winchester, Lucifer, Michael, Zachariah, Risa, Johnston (OMC), Patrick (OMC), Theresa (OFC), other survivors and soldiers.

Series Explicit 18 +/Warnings: Show level violence, some gore, angst, smut, fluff all the usual for a series of mine. ❤️ Endverse!Dean (that's a warning for his anger and callousness as well as his extreme hotness. 😁) Each chapter will have their own specific warnings.

Chapter Warnings: Nothing major.

Word Count: 3,308

A/N: So, I've had this idea for quite a while. Basically since I watched The Last of Us. I loved Pedro in the role of Joel, but I kept thinking how incredible Jensen would have been. Which then made me think of how amazing he was as Endverse!Dean which then led me to this idea. Lol! I've stolen the premise of Ellie's storyline from TLOU, but made her a grown up, a reader insert, and a love interest for Dean.

If you've never seen TLOU, don't worry - you don't need to have seen it to understand this story. 😊

I've taken some liberties with the Endverse in my story, changed a few things from canon, but kept lots of things too.

I sincerely hope you enjoy the story. It will be ten chapters and I will do my very best to post one chapter every weekend. ❤️

A/N 2: Hope you enjoy this chapter! I'm getting excited to finish up the series. Four chapter left and so far it seems like the story is staying on track, and it shouldn't go over. (But you never know! 😁) Thanks so much to everyone who has been reading, liking, commenting and reblogging this series! It means SO much! ❤️

Series Master List || Main Master List || Tag Lists

The dividers below were created by @saradika

Y/N felt her heart beat triple time as she watched Dean’s face return to the stony granite it had been when she’d first come to camp. Over the last couple of months she'd begun to see him soften slightly; there were even a few moments where he’d seemed on the verge of smiling. His eyes had eventually lost their frosty hardness, and their look of perpetual suspicion.

But both were back with a vengeance now.

She shook her head at him again and tried to understand what he was talking about. “What kind of psychic am I?” She asked, the question conjuring up an urge to laugh. The idea of her having psychic abilities was laughable to her. But she didn’t think Dean would appreciate the humor around it. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Dean. I haven’t done anything, and I certainly have no psychic powers.”

Dean said nothing, just shuffled sideways towards the door without  taking his eyes off of her. Y/N took a few steps towards him, but froze when his hand dropped to the pistol on his thigh and he hissed at her. “Stay back.”

She felt Emma come up and hide behind her leg and her daughter's renewed fear made anger start to burn in Y/N’s chest. In the last few weeks that Dean had been coming to dinner, Emma had been gradually losing her fear of him, offering him shy smiles and even bringing him one of her books and asking him to read to her. 

But now Y/N could feel her tremble slightly and frustration flared in her. What was Dean doing? And why? Because her mother had died in a fire when she was a baby? What kind of logic was that? Where was all this insanity coming from?

Dean walked to the entrance of the cabin and called to Patrick. When the soldier appeared in the doorway Dean spoke to him brusquely.

“Go get Castiel.”

Patrick looked back and forth between Dean and Y/N and frowned at the obvious tension. “Sir?” He questioned.

“Now.” Dean said with finality. As the man turned to leave Dean spoke again. “And send Risa in here.”

Dean continued to stare at Y/N, keeping his attention intensely fixated on her, the way he’d done during those first few days she’d been there. When Risa came into the cabin she frowned; like Patrick, she could clearly sense the hostility in the room.

When Dean saw her he nodded towards Emma. “Take the kid.”

Panic suffused Y/N and she began shaking her head. Emma clutched tightly to her leg and began crying and whimpering softly. She shook her head and buried her face in Y/N’s hip. “No, mommy.” She hiccuped softly.

“Take her.” Dean said quietly but firmly. There was a pause for a moment as Risa’s eyes lingered on Emma and Y/N before she shook her head.

“No.”

Dean turned his head slowly to look at his soldier, his expression incredulous and furious at the same time. 

“Excuse me?” He said softly, and Y/N felt a shiver run down her spine. 

Risa looked away for a moment, clearly intimidated by Dean's anger. But when she looked back at him, her brow was crinkled and she still questioned his demand. 

“Why?” She asked.

“Because I gave you an order, soldier.” was Dean's softly spoken reply.

Risa stared at Dean a moment longer before she took a deep breath and then exhaled loudly and forcefully, turning and walking towards Y/N and Emma.

Emma started crying in earnest and Y/N knew that no matter what, she had to try and ease her daughter’s fear. She got down on her haunches and smoothed back Emma’s fly away hair. “Oh baby, it’s okay.” She smiled brightly at her, desperately trying to erase all her own fear and anxiety about what was happening.

“Dean and I are just gonna be here for a little while trying to figure out some boring grown up stuff.” Y/N’s happy smile seemed to be fooling Emma slightly because her tears were slowing and she sniffled.

Y/N kissed her cheek. “Why don’t you let Risa take you to see Keisha and Julianne. It will be so much more fun to play with them for a while, rather than staying here and listening to boring grownups talking. And I’ll come pick you up later, okay? I promise.”

She felt awful making a promise she wasn’t sure she could keep, but she wanted to believe she would be picking her up later, and she wanted Emma to lose the look of panic in her eyes. 

She nodded towards Risa. “Go on now, and have fun playing. I’ll see you soon.” She kissed her forehead and gave her another bright smile. 

Emma nodded, still obviously unsure, but willing to believe what Y/N was telling her.

Y/N kept her happy smile in place until Emma was out the door and then her mask dropped and she looked at Dean, her eyes accusing.

“Why are you doing this?” She asked quietly.

Before he could answer, Castiel walked through the door. Like the others, he seemed to notice the tension immediately and questioned it. 

“Dean? What’s going on?”

Dean motioned for Y/N to move backwards. “Sit down.” He said, with a gesture towards the folding chair she’d been sitting on to read the story. When she did, Dean turned his head towards Castiel, but never took his eyes off of her. 

“I know why she’s immune.”

Y/N felt her stomach lurch. “You do?” She asked, some of her anger burning away from pure shock. It was the last thing she’d expected him to say. Though she still had no idea what this had to do with her mother’s death.

But evidently it was connected, because the angel’s eyes widened in disbelief as Dean continued. “Her mother died in a fire when she was a baby.”

It was to her that Castiel looked for an answer. “Is that true, Y/N?” She nodded. “My God.” 

“Will someone please explain what my mother dying has to do with anything?” Y/N asked with immense frustration.

But the men ignored her for the moment. Dean was finally looking at the angel properly and he nodded at the questions in his blue eyes. 

“Yeah, she’s a psychic kid. She’s immune, just like Sam was.”

“Who is Sam?” Y/N asked, but was ignored again.

Castiel was shaking his head. “Maybe…” He looked back towards her briefly. “Maybe it’s just a coincidence.” 

Dean scoffed. “Come on Cas! This is way too big a coincidence to be…coincidental.”

Cas nodded reluctantly and then frowned. “But, if she's psychic...then what’s her gift?”

Both men turned to stare at her, and Dean spoke softly. “That’s a real good question. Because she could be doing anything to us, mind controlling us, or manipulating us to only see what she wants us to.”

Y/N finally did let out a bark of laughter. “Are you insane? You think I’m mind controlling you? If I had the power of mind control, I’d definitely make you be nicer, or I’d make you let me go, because this whole thing is ridiculous! And you still haven’t explained why on earth you think I’m psychic and why my mother’s death is involved.”

Dean stared at her for a long time, and Cas just watched him. Finally Dean spoke and his voice was calm and even, as though he was just telling her a story while they sat around her table eating dinner.

“Ten years before you were born, your mother or father made a deal with a yellow-eyed demon. They got something they desperately wanted and he got permission to enter their house. When you were six months old he came into your room, slit himself open and bled into your mouth. Your mother likely interrupted him somehow, and he killed her and burnt the place down around her.”

Y/N felt her stomach turn at Dean’s words. He had to be insane, there was no way it could be true. Demon blood? A demon killed her mother? She shook her head.

“How on earth could you possibly know any of this?”

“Because it’s exactly what happened to my mom, and my brother. The demon fed him his blood, killed my mom, and when Sam turned 22 he started having psychic visions. And he wasn’t the only psychic kid. There were a bunch of them, and without fail every single one of them had powers and every single one of them went bad.”

His jaw clenched and he folded his arms over his chest. “So, if you’re gonna sit there and try and tell me that you’re the only one that never had the blood take hold, the only one who managed to avoid being triggered when you turned 22? Well, then I know you’re lying. So, I’ll ask you one more time.”

His eyes were chips of ice once again. “What can you do? And what have you done already?”

Y/N blew out a puff of exasperation. “I can’t do anything, do you hear me? I am not psychic! I have no powers!”

Cas stepped forward, putting himself between the two of them. “Okay, Y/N, have you ever felt something, something that made you different from other people? Like,” he snapped his fingers, “the ability to connect easily with people maybe? You seem to make friends quickly, people respond to you.” 

Y/N rolled her eyes. “So being a nice person makes me a psychic now?”

Cas shook his head. “No, but maybe it’s more than you being nice, maybe people can’t help but like you. It could be involuntary on both their part and yours. Like some sort of psychic charisma”

Cas seemed to like his idea, his expression saying that he thought he’d figured it out.

But Y/N was again shaking her head. “No, look, that’s not true. I’ve had lots of people not like me, I’ve had people try to kill me in my sleep just to steal my blanket, I’ve had men attack me just for…well, for being a woman. And I can promise you I didn’t get away from those people by smiling at them and asking nicely.”

Y/N felt the old fears rise in her as she remembered the panic and terror of those moments and so many more like them. To think that she had some kind of mind control or psychic abilities and hadn’t used them then, was laughable.

Cas looked slightly defeated and Dean pushed him aside. “The fact is though, that you could be lying through your teeth, you could be saying anything to knock us off your scent.”

Y/N scowled at him and then stood up. Dean stepped back, and yanked Cas back by his shoulder. “Sit down.” He ordered her but she shook her head.

“This is ridiculous, Dean. You have to know it is.” She took a step towards him. “What about our…our friendship? What about what happened last night?”

Dean’s eyes just got colder and his voice was deep and demanding. “I said, sit down. Now!”

“Dean.” Y/N began and stepped closer again, reaching out to him. But she stopped dead and dropped her hands to her sides as Dean pulled his gun from its holster in the span of a breath. 

“I said get back, and sit down.” He said, slow and deliberate.

Y/N looked at the gun pointed at her, looked at Dean holding it, his hand not wavering an inch, and she was suddenly, unbearably sad. She stared at him and knew her heartbreak was plastered on her face, she was bad at concealing emotions. 

She nodded slowly and moved back to sit in the chair. She had lied to Emma; she wouldn’t be picking her up tonight.

***

The night passed just as her first night in camp had; with her sleeping lightly, troubled by disturbing dreams and waking to find Dean watching her almost unblinkingly. He took her to the outhouses on his own this time, and she wasn’t in chains so, that much had changed. But his hand hovering over his gun the whole way there and back definitely felt binding, and kept her locked in place just ahead of him.

When they got back to the cabin Dean walked over to the door and said something quietly to whoever was just outside. A few minutes later Theresa arrived with breakfast. She looked at Y/N back in her spot on the floor by the table leg and her young face creased in confusion.

“What’s wrong?” She asked Y/N with a look thrown at Dean.

Y/N tried to smile and put her student’s mind at ease. “Nothing, sweetie. Just trying to sort something out. Tell your mom thank you for the breakfast, but I’m not hungry. You should take that back to her so it doesn’t go to waste.”

“Eat it.” Dean’s voice rang out with authority and Theresa took a step closer to Y/N.

Y/N didn’t bother looking at him. Instead she gave Theresa a reassuring nod and the girl bent to set the tray on the ground. “It’s okay, thank you. I’ll probably be hungry later.”

But she wasn’t. She felt guilty enough about wasting food to try and swallow some down, but it just stuck in her throat and she gagged on it and spit it out. At lunch Brandy brought the food tray and she was slightly more vocal with her questions than her daughter was. 

“What the hell is going on here?” She asked Dean. “All the parents are confused and worried. They said you ordered them out of here yesterday and no one has seen Y/N since; Emma’s back with Monique.” 

She set the lunch tray on the table Y/N leaned against and bent to pick up the uneaten breakfast tray. She was looking at Y/N, but still addressing Dean when she spoke. “What’s going on?”

“It’s nothing that concerns you.” Dean answered brusquely.

Brandy stood to her full height and her large chest rose and fell with indignation. “Since when do you keep me out of the loop?”

Dean frowned at her and his voice was laced with annoyance and anger. “Since this isn’t something that requires your attention. And I’d like to know, exactly when did everyone start questioning my orders?”

Brandy shrugged, seemingly unfazed by his foreboding tone. “I guess when your orders started to seem stupid.”

Y/N’s eyes grew round, beyond impressed at the woman’s boldness and nerve. Dean seemed much less impressed by it though, staring the woman down with a furious expression. But Brandy kept his gaze and never wavered. Finally Dean spoke through gritted teeth.

“Take away the tray, and send someone else with the supper tray.”

Brandy stayed still until Dean took a step towards her and yelled, “That is an order!”

Brandy shook her head, but turned towards the door as she answered. “Don’t forget, boss, not all of us are your soldiers. Some of us follow you because you’ve been a good leader.” She paused at the door and looked back at him. “Don’t fuck that up.”

She walked out, leaving behind an electric buzz of tension in the air. Dean turned back to her and the muscle in his jaw was still jumping. 

“Eat.”

But Y/N shook her head. “I’m not hungry.”

“Bullshit!” Dean said bitingly. “You haven’t eaten since lunch yesterday. You have to be hungry. I don’t know what kind of hunger strike, sympathy ploy you’re going for here, but it’s not gonna work. Now, eat!” He ended on a shout and something snapped inside Y/N. 

She jumped to her feet and yelled back. “This isn’t a sympathy ploy, you bloody dumbass! I can’t eat the food because it tastes disgusting to me and it chokes me. My stomach is in knots and I feel sick! And do you know why that is? Because you keep threatening to kill me!”

Dean thundered towards her, stopping barely two feet from her. “Yeah, and I’m not gonna have you starve to death before I get the chance! Now eat!”

Y/N threw her arms wide. “What the hell do you care if I starve! It’ll just save you a bullet!” 

She took a deep breath, feeling herself unraveling but unable to stop. “You have me locked up in this place, again! You think I’m some kind of horrible monster. Again!” Her voice broke. “You have taken my child away from me! Again! So don’t pretend to give a shit about my fucking health and wellbeing!” She reached out to furiously smash the food tray to the ground. 

Silence descended and Y/N breathed hard and heavy through her nose, her anger carrying her through a little longer before she turned away from him and buried her face in her hands, quiet, uncontrollable sobs shaking her. 

By the time she managed to get herself under some kind of control, she turned around to see that Dean was gone. She looked around the room as though he might be hiding in plain sight, but he was nowhere to be seen.

Y/N walked over and fell down onto the chair he'd sat in all night. She felt exhausted and deflated. She wasn’t sure how long she sat there, but it felt like ages before Cas walked through the door. He looked solemn and he nodded at her. 

“Dean says that you should go.”

Y/N felt her stomach drop. “He’s kicking us out?”

Cas held up a hand. “Oh, no! Not…he didn’t say for you to go from camp. I mean that he said for you to go from here. Go get your daughter, go back to your tent. That kind of go.”

Y/N shook her head, more confused than ever. “I don’t understand. Now, suddenly he doesn’t think I’m some kind of psychic menace?”

Cas shrugged. “Psychic yes, but menace no. He said, and I quote, ‘She was pissed enough to take off my head if she could have, and she didn’t, so she can’t.’” He shook his head. “Occasionally his thought process is hard to follow.”

Y/N nodded. “Yeah, you’re telling me.”

She didn’t waste anymore time right then, though, contemplating Dean’s bizarre behavior; she was free to go and she ran to get Emma, apologizing for taking longer than she said she would to come get her.

Emma forgave her easily for not keeping her promise, relief clear in her big, deep cerulean eyes. They spent the evening cuddling in the tent; Y/N read her a dozen books and played clapping games with her until Emma’s eyes were shining again, and no more fear or worry clouded them.

At bedtime she sang her a song and Emma drifted off to sleep happily; Y/N found no such easy reprieve. She laid awake for hours trying to understand Dean and the way he thought. He’d been so angry, so sure of her wickedness and evil. And then, just like that, because she’d exploded in anger, he let her go?

How did that man’s mind work? And how did he see her now? Harmless psychic freak? Or someone he’d still have to keep a close eye on? 

She shook her head. It didn’t matter, he’d made himself perfectly clear on one thing, the relationship she’d thought they had, the friendship that she’d hoped would grow into more had meant nothing to him. The kiss they’d shared had meant nothing. 

She meant nothing. He couldn't  have acted the way he did if he cared about her at all.

She needed to remember that going forward and not let her heart get entangled so easily.

From now on, she needed to keep her distance.

Jensen RPF and Any/All Characters: @lyarr24 @lacilou @deans-spinster-witch @globetrotter28 @suckitands33 @akshi8278 @evznackles @jackles010378 @impala67rollingthroughtown @krazykelly @candy-coated-misery0731 @envyaurora95 @spnwoman @deans-baby-momma

Dean Fics Only @roonthelittlespoon920 @slamminmine @zepskies @safiyas-world

Any/All Fics Regardless of Character or Fandom: @kazsrm67 @slut-for-evans-stan @sexyvixen7 @nancymcl @waywardcheshire

Everything Incl. Fan Edits: @k-slla @leigh70 @eevvvaa @kickingitwithkirk @foxyjwls007 @notinthislife50 @roseblue373 @mishkatelwarriorgoddess @avanatural @mrsjenniferwinchester @all-alone-he-turns-to-stone @deangirl96 @hobby27

[elisaphoenix13]

Deja Vu

"Are you okay?"

Stephen came back to himself with a small gasp and he looked up to find himself looking at Tony. Just...younger. There was less gray in his hair and they were still standing in the Sanctum and it took a few moments for reality to set in and for the sorcerer to realize what had just happened.

Specifically that nothing happened.

He and Tony weren't married, let alone dating. He still lived at the Sanctum with Wong, the Avengers were still broken up...and there were no kids. The realization that his children either weren't his own or didn't exist yet made Stephen feel empty. The vision had felt so real. He could still feel the warmth Tony gave off against his back when he fell asleep just last night (or did he?), and feeling Athena sleeping at the foot of the bed. He was even waiting for this to be some sick joke and his kids would come barrelling through the door arguing about who got to choose the next movie to watch.

But he knew it wouldn't happen. Not yet. Nothing had come to pass. Not even Peter's aunt dying in the accident. May Parker was still alive and well. Stephen was just...Stephen. Sorcerer Supreme. He wasn't anyone's mom, spouse, or matriarch. He was just one of the sorcerer's residing in Greenwich Village.

He felt his skin get clammy and he had to resist the urge to bring up his lunch because he wanted it back. He didn't want to go through all of it again. He wanted his kids now. He wanted the chaos and the noise that the Sanctum was almost completely devoid of.

But he had to, didn't he? Go through all the pain and suffering, the happy moments, the sad…and if that's what it took to get all of that back, Stephen would do it in an instant. He wanted that happiness back…he yearned for it, and he wasn't the only one who deserved it. So did Tony. The very man he fell in love with and was still looking at him in concern.

“I'm fine,” Stephen finally manages to answer while rubbing the bridge of his nose. At least physically. Mentally was an entirely different ballpark. He still felt a small urge to vomit…to lash out and beg for this to be a dream.

“Sure, Doc. I'll believe that when you're not paler than the moon. Better get you a chair.” Tony was already looking for one before he even finished his sentence, and then Stephen felt himself being led to the couch in the foyer. He sat down without argument and made himself breathe through the nausea as Tony sat next to him. “So what's going on?”

Stephen breathes out a pathetic laugh. “If I told you, you'd think I was insane.”

“Guess we won't know unless you tell me.”

If Stephen didn't have that vision, he would have told Tony off…but he knew better. He knew Tony hid his kindness behind smart remarks, but Stephen knew he wasn't ready to hear about what he just experienced. Then being together, having a family, and with the Avengers back together…it was a lot to chew on.

“Maybe later,” he answers quietly. If he could get that vision to be real again, maybe there would be a later.

“Fair enough. Something too intense to recover from immediately right?” Tony says as he gets back to his feet. “I've had nightmares like that. Anyway, glad to see you don't have any magical mishaps here.”

“You'll just cause them if you keep touching everything,” Stephen snorts and Tony barks out a laugh.

“Felt like touching. The engineer in me I guess.” Tony heads for the front door. “Get better soon, Doc. I don't want to be the one dealing with the magical end of things.”

Then he was gone. And Stephen felt empty again. The Sanctum was silent and he couldn't feel Tony's comforting heat…it all felt wrong. He couldn't live like this. Not after seeing what could be.

But then the doorbell rang about an hour later and when Stephen answered it, he found a bag by the door. It held hot soup and a note that made Stephen think that maybe it could happen after all.

Something told me that you'd be terrible about taking care of yourself since you're a doctor. Took the liberty of ordering you some soup. Get well soon, Doc. -T

As Stephen pocketed the receipt with the note and picked up the bag, he couldn't help but smile to himself. He'd have to send the older man a thank you. Something along the lines of calling the man an asshole.

_____________

It worked of course. Tony took it as a challenge of snark and it brought him to Stephen's door more and more. Then everything began to feel familiar to Stephen. The lunches at the Sanctum, the constant quips that he remembered hearing, and their first kiss in Tony's living room…

Everything was back to the way it was. Stephen had to go through all the pain and suffering again but it was worth it to have his family back. It was worth having Valerie glued to his leg since William was still at school, to have Lucy running around in her diaper because she refused to wear any other clothes, and to hear Diana arguing with Harley and Peter over the TV. 

He didn't feel empty anymore.

“You alright, Duchess?” Tony asks from beside him as he cuts up some vegetables. “You look like you saw a ghost.”

Stephen shakes his head and focuses back on the task at hand. Namely cutting the last couple of strawberries for Valerie that would hold her over until dinner. “I'm fine.”

“That's just as believable as when you said it when we first met,” Tony huffs. “You looked the same then and you gave me the same answer. Which you never explained to me by the way.”

Stephen looks at him with surprise. “You remember that?”

“I'm old, not senile.” Tony says and Stephen chuckles.

“I really am fine. What happened then was the complete opposite of now.” He starts. “I…saw this back then.”

Tony blinks and stops cutting to look over at the sorcerer. “Wait…this?”

“The kids…us…I lived it. I looked like a ghost because I was torn away from it. It was all a vision and it made me feel sick.” Stephen tells him as he hands the bowl of strawberries down to Valerie and watches her walk over to the table with them. “It was the happiest I've ever been in my life and it was just a dream.”

“And now?” Tony asks carefully, gently taking Stephen's hand, making him smile.

“It's real. I made sure of it. Even if it wasn't, I would do it all again without hesitation.” Stephen reassures. “The vision was just so intense and realistic that it took a lot out of me at the time. I also don't think you would have believed me at the time.”

“I…maybe.” Tony admits. “I was still a little suspicious of it at the time. Are you sure you're okay now?”

Stephen nods. “I'm just relieved. That's all. If I knew this was possible and wasn't able to get it again…”

“But it was and you do,” Tony says firmly before lifting Stephen's hand to kiss the back of it. “I'd hate to imagine what it would be like without you.”

The doctor’s smile drops a bit. “I've seen that too. It's not good.”

“Guess I should thank those witch doctors of yours that they blessed you with visions,” Tony smirks and Stephen rolls his eyes.

“I can't believe you just referred to the Vishanti as witch doctors.”

“You still love me.”

Stephen’s smile returns and he sighs softly. “I always will.”

[seriousfic]

Creature Commandos (2024)

Kind of a mixed bag for me, so far. The character notes and action are intriguing, and it even rebels a bit against the sexlessness of the MCU--but if we're going to ding Marvel for forced, chintzy humor, I gotta say, CC does the exact same thing.

There are dunks on MRAs that feel like they took about ten seconds to come up with (a bad guy says "Facts, not feelings"? Wow! Incisive!). And for some reason they're led by a woman who turns them on, so they're... simps? So the bad guys Gunn is disparaging don't really believe the philosophy he's disparaging; that seem like a weak takedown to anyone else?

Then there are the not-Russians of the country that the protags are deployed to, who--get this, folks--are obsessed with American pop culture, BUT! (giggle snort) Their references are out of date! So they say things like "Where's the beef?" Can you believe it!?

And, in keeping with Amanda Waller's continuing depiction as the most stupidly evil person to ever draw breath, she has for some reason decided to work with Rick Flagg's loving father after he was killed on her orders in The Suicide Squad.

Aside from that, Mrs. Lincoln...

The pacing is fairly good, getting us into the action in a hurry with a few pauses for character reveals. As per usual, there seems to be only one actual supervillain in the bunch--Dr. Phosphorus--while the others are just weirdos with angst.

An entitled, emo Frankenstein and the Bride are in a never-ending feud spawned from a love triangle with Doctor Frankenstein--we'll see if the Doc falling in love with someone he had to teach the alphabet to will end up viewed as uncharitably as Frankenstein demanding a woman created for him to love.

Or, for that matter, G.I. Robot being a sentient being created only to kill Nazis; I worry the satire will be too blunt to cut into him seeing Nazis everywhere the way that deserves. Like he'll be a bunch of hashtag relatable Tiktoks instead of a character.

Come to think of it: isn't this characterization just Liberty Prime for Nazis instead of Communists?

Rounding out the cast is Weasel--he's coming along because, as mentioned, Amanda Waller, stupidly evil, et al et al--and Nina, the incongruously cute/innocent one (see Mantis, Ratcatcher).

Gunn probably isn't a bad enough writer to make drippy MRAs the real bad guys--the not-Russians pointedly having power armor that would make them a credible threat to the Commandos seems like a twist incoming situation--but it all does feel a bit inessential. Like Whedon's Dollhouse era. We know all the tropes and it's some fun to go through the motions, but what makes the story of this ragtag bunch of misfits something that needed to be told?

ETA: To go inside-baseball a moment, it seems Gunn's DCU will have a Batman that's been around long enough to have Damian and a Superman that's been Superman for at least a hot minute, but Wonder Woman as of yet either hasn't shown up or hasn't gone public. That is post-Crisis canon, but I never got the impression people really liked it too much, especially with the knock-on effect it had on Wonder Girl and Troia. Admit it: it just feels weird for Wonder Woman to be a rookie superhero compared to Aqualad.

[noxioustoxin]

I'll Be Here, Always

Mentions: Implied Abuse (Warning), Suicide (Warning), fluff, tender love and care.

Small Authors Note: "I'm just looking to do some major self-care, but I do hope you all enjoy my short story." ^^

——————————

It had been about a month, almost two now, that Dazai even bothered to check his notifications. His phone lights up throughout the night with halfhearted check-ins. He didn't have to look to know who the messages were from, the soft chime told him exactly who it was. "Bastard, the hell are you ignoring me for?" "You better not be dead, or I swear shitty Dazai."

It was the same thing every few days or so that it started making his head spin. Normally Dazai would've written a snarky comeback, teasing the redhead about how much he seems to care. In reality, Dazai cared. But even his little dog couldn't pull him out of this one. Dazai could vividly recall the moment when things began to spiral, which wasn't uncommon for him. He was known to be suicidal and depressed, but this time, he took the liberty of writing a note. His fingers ached as he scribbled out his goodbye, which was only to one person, but he wouldn't dare let that letter be seen. Not by his slug. He wasn't that cruel though many would argue with that statement.

Even with the meticulous work he put in to hide his letter, he still somehow found himself in Mori's office. Dazai's letter was there open against the desk, and he could hear a scoff from his boss. It was obvious to him that Mori had already read the contents of the letter. "When will you give up on this futile endeavor? Aimlessly reaching for an outcome you can't achieve. You can't die until I say you can when I provide the means." His voice swirled around Dazai's mind like filthy venom, reminding Dazai with that choice of words that he was chained to him. Typically, Mori's words were nothing more than that. Words. But that unsettling feeling that stirred within his stomach made his limbs suddenly feel like lead. He felt bolted to the floor. But in his mind, the only thing that mattered was Chuuya. Not Mori, not being chained to him and the organization, not his suffering. Just Chuuya.

Flash forward to the present, Dazai sat uncomfortably atop his small mattress. His eyes were misty and puffy from the tears that refused to fall. The shipping container in which he called home carried an ominous chill, one that didn't feel right. "Mackerel… please talk to me."

His phone lit up the small area. He knew it was Chuuya, but what was he supposed to say? That he once again wanted to leave the world behind because of his pain? No. Not that again. So instead, Dazai curled up into a fettle position and sighed heavily into his knees. After what felt like hours, in reality, it was only about twenty minutes, a knock jolted Dazai away from his misery. He sighed and uttered a soft "go away," but that was quickly met with louder and more forceful knocking. The sound made his heart sink, and he knew he couldn't ignore it anymore, so reluctantly he scrambled off of his bed and made his way to the door. His hand hesitantly reached for the lock and slowly opened the door. "What?" His voice shook as he tried to upkeep his typical cold exterior until he was suddenly wrapped in a tight embrace. That familiar warmth quickly enveloped his body, and his body relaxed for the first time in those two months. Chuuya. Dazai opened his mouth to speak, but he couldn't find the words. The words weren't needed at the moment, but instead, Chuuya simply led him over to his bed and pushed him down against it. Those usually piercing blue eyes were softer and gentler as he cupped Dazai's cheek. "You don't have to go silent whenever you hit a low period," Chuuya began softly, "I can handle it. I want you to understand that I know you still struggle and suffer with those thoughts." He paused to press his forehead lightly against Dazai's, the gesture so tender that it caused butterflies to form in their stomachs. With that, Dazai's tears finally fell as he quickly tugged Chuuya onto the bed with him. His taller frame fits rather perfectly with Chuuya's smaller one. A soft chuckle could be heard from the redhead as he reached his hand up to play with those messy brown curls. "Come on, we aren't staying here. I've got canned crab at home, let's get you a nice bath and a hot meal." Dazai only cooed in response as he nuzzled his head into the crook of Chuuya's neck.

"Okay, Chibi… I love you." "I love you too Mackerel, now let's go."

Dazai knew that Chuuya did mean what he said, he meant that he was here for him even through his dark times. Maybe, just maybe, this was what his meaning in life was. No. Not maybe, Chuuya was his reason. And that was all he needed now. "I'll be here, always." And Dazai believed it. Completely.

------------------------------ Again, I truly hope you all enjoy this little, short story!

[marshmallowprotection]

ive never seen it before but i really like the lesbian rika hc!! is there a reason behind why you hc it or is it just one of those things that feels right?

Mainly, it's just because it feels right to me. In another sense, it's got a lot to do with the fact that I think Rika needed more time to live and experience the world before she stumbled into Jihyun Kim's artwork. She found him not long before she got kicked out. She worked as his muse / model for a short while before that happened, and that's how she ended moving in with him and their relationship snowballed from that point.

When Rika talks at length about Jihyun Kim, she doesn't speak like she's in love with him as a person, she speaks to the effect of wanting to BECOME him. Rika has never wanted to be herself. She, as herself, has never been good enough for the world in her eyes. She was never wanted as a baby as far she knows. She was never truly wanted with her adopted family because she wasn't "angelic" enough.

There was a single moment in her life when she found the agency to have control, and that's when she acted like the devil to keep Sally at her side and confronted the entire church for their bigotry. That's one of the major reasons why Rika bounces back and forth between that angel and devil iconography in the series. She only felt like she had a sense of autonomy when she was the devil.

But, Jihyun Kim?

The man with shining eyes who captured the sun in a way that made her feel alive?

He doesn't have to be the devil to feel in control. He doesn't have to fight inner demons like she does when it comes to trying to decide who he is as a person at crucial moments of right and wrong. He has a world of freedom and liberty and beauty. She doesn't have that. It becomes the reason why she ultimately obsesses over with him.

The game doesn't exactly do a good job in showing the full scope of this particular narrative, and unless you've got Rika's Diary from the Box and you've played her DLC, you're gonna miss these details. It's damning once you see it, though. Rika wants to become V to escape being herself.

I won't say Rika didn't love Jihyun because she did love him on some level. But, she wasn't in love with him. She was in love with the idea of love, and the idea of becoming Jihyun Kim. She could never become him, though, and that's... that's ultimately one of the things that hurt her when she hit rock bottom.

When she killed Mother Choi to defend herself and she stood there, realizing that she couldn't be an angel, she couldn't be the RFA's Rika Kim, and she couldn't become Jihyun Kim to run away from the devil she fears becoming even though being the devil was the damn thing that also helped her feel liberated? She gave up on trying to be what she thought the world wanted and accepted that she could only be a devil.

That led to the creation of Mint Eye as Mika spurned her to lean more and more into her devil. She took Mika's idea and made it her own in stride, going further than what Mika might've done had she lived as Rika lashed out at herself, Saeran, Ray, Jihyun, and the RFA in anger and contempt. She burned her bridges and everyone around her in an instant.

A huge part of her anger at Jihyun isn't just that he "spurned" her devil, it's because she's still angry that she couldn't become him to escape her devil. The obsession between Jihyun and Rika is such a messy topic to talk about from both sides, but just speaking from Rika's angle here since I've talked way more about Jihyun than her over the years, she loved the idea of him more than being with him.

Neither he nor her should've gotten in a relationship because they both needed a lot of help and care for themselves first.

Whenever Rika interacts with the player in the moments when the MC has a chance to bridge the gap and listen to her above everyone else, she lowers her guard in a way I don't see her doing Jihyun. Her relationship with MC in the V Bad Ending certainly isn't a healthy one in the slightest, but there's something worth saying about the way in which Rika says:

"You make me feel like a person, not the Savior, not the muse of Jihyun's obsession, or someone who will be taken advantage of by those around me."

Ever since I played that ending, I've just been unable to read Rika as anything other than a lesbian who never had the space to realize she liked women because of the oppressive environment her religion had on her as a person. She never had the chance to find the language to express her feelings and she latched onto V when she did because it was like... he was her only hope, and she wanted to become him more than she ever loved him.

In a way, Jihyun was her Savior, like God, and even Jihyun himself confesses he tried to act like a God or Savior to her at their lowest moments together in that codependent, toxic relationship.

I think if Rika had more of a chance to explore herself, she would find out that she's queer. She feels more drawn to women then she ever did with men and with time, she'd find the word for herself and feel at home with it. For someone who's felt the sting of religion hurt me on my journey to find my identity, the thought of Rika working hard to unravel her trauma and accept herself is a peaceful arc in my heart.

I just wonder, if I ever sat down with her, would she say she wanted to feel a spark with Jihyun but it was never there? She was obsessed with him because she wanted to be him, to love him, and to be loved in turn, but it always felt strange? She wanted it with him, but in her heart, there was always something there telling her that this wasn't quite how she wanted to experience love?

And maybe that's why being with MC in VBE1 felt so right for Rika, and why was she able to communicate how she felt at ease with her MC? Like, I know there are limitations in Mystic Messenger when it comes down to sapphic routes, and they get as close as they can in many ways, which paved the way for other otome to soar even more in that regard. But, I know the game won't outright say it one way or the other for Rika, even though we've had 1000000% confirmation for Jaehee and I'll fight anyone who says Jaehee's route isn't one of the most romantic ones.

But, yeah, lesbian Rika real in my heart. I know there are some people who headcanon Rika as bi, but I don't get a read on her that feels that way so I've always viewed her as a lesbian who only figures that out for herself when she meets MC and really self-reflects on what she thinks love is, not just as an idea or an obsession, but what it really means to be in love.

I'm surprised you haven't seen the lesbian Rika HC before because most of the people I know in this fandom also view Rika as a lesbian!

I know a few people with MCs shipped with Rika that are the cutest, actually! Off the top of my head, I know @natasha-in-space has an MC for Rika she'd probably love to gush about! I've done some art and writing in the past for folks who have Rika MCs, too. I just love seeing MCs for the entire cast. Rika MCs are rare, but when I see any of them, I'm happy!

[toxiclizardwrites]

Snippet Sunday

It's been a looong time, but chapter 11 of Love and Rage is very close to being done! I took some liberties with the standard Crimson Fleet questline here, but the main outcomes are still the same.

*******Some spoilers below for the "Absolute Power" quest of the Crimson Fleet questline below!*****

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Here's the snippet:

It was easy enough to sneak through the facility, but finding the blueprints? Not easy. It seemed every computer she tried to hack led into a dead end, not enough access privileges. 

After what seemed like ages, she finally reached the power core room and accessed the terminal that held the conduction grid data. But there's a hitch: the data is encrypted. The only person who has access to this data, as it turns out, is Breyson Bayu, the not-so-well-liked younger brother of Benjamin Bayu. 

Toxic sighed and checked the map of the facility, and found that Breyson’s office was actually quite close. Sneaking around in some vents, she entered the office easily, only to find Breyson waiting behind his desk, hands up. 

Surprised, Toxic approached him, one hand behind her back ready to grab the dagger she had stopped to her leg, hidden by her dress. 

Breyson also gave her a quizzical look, but didn't put his hands down. “Easy,” he started as Toxic came closer, “I'm not your enemy, despite what it might look like from your end.” 

Toxic stopped, but her hand remained behind her back ready to grab her dagger. “Is that so?” 

Breyson shifted in his chair. “Yeah, can I put my hands down now?” 

Toxic nodded and Breyson lowered his hands, but kept them on the desk in full view. His eyes met hers. “You're not exactly what I was expecting, but you've sure caused a stir.” 

Toxic laughed. “So you know what I'm after, then?” 

He nodded. “I'm assuming you're after the conduction grid tech? I'll give it to you freely.” 

Toxic tilted her head to the side. “So willingly? But why?” 

“My brother was always the one that got everything handed to him. He was always the best, you know? And I was the fuck up.” 

“So giving me the tech is a way to get back at your brother, then?” 

Breyson sighed. “I don't want to die. Not for him. Take it and bring it to the Fleet. I'll even put in my password.” He reached over to type on the keyboard. “There.” 

Toxic walked over to the terminal and pulled out a slate to download the information on the conduction grid. Then she hesitated for a moment, but decided to run Estelle’s virus. After all, she was Toxic’s ticket out of Neon and back to Delgado, so not following her wishes wasn't really an option. 

Satisfied, Toxic turned to leave. In the end, it all seemed a bit too easy. But now it was time to meet Estelle and get off this soaked planet.

She headed to the Astral Lounge, the music thumping as she made her way to the back where the elevator to the VIP rooms were located. She slipped into the room Estelle had said she would meet her at, but something felt off. 

Before Toxic could process the feeling, a dark figure emerged from the corner of the room. Benjamin Bayu.

Toxic’s breath hitched in her throat but she knew better than to speak. The message about meeting at the lounge was a trap, something obvious that she should have realized. She mentally scolded herself as Benjamin closed the space between them. 

“The only thing I'm interested in is who is responsible for the virus” he said plainly. 

Toxic took a step back, considering her options. Taking the fall for Estelle crossed her mind. That way, Estelle would be safe and able to get back to Bessel III to meet with Delgado, even if Toxic wasn't with her. But blaming Estelle would surely mean that they'd go after her and Toxic’s only chance to get off Neon would be compromised. 

She drew in a breath. “It was me,” she said. 

Bayu snorted as if he didn't believe her, but accepted the answer nonetheless. “Fine. Here's what is going to happen. You have an hour to get out of Neon. There is a body with very convincing evidence implicating you with murder. If you stay, security will kill you rather than arrest you.” 

He looked down at his watch. “Better get moving, Fleet scum.”

[lee-hatchett]

task oo4. the interrogation

The room was tense, to say the least. Or, perhaps, Lee could feel tension in the air. He felt rather relaxed, to be honest. Confused, but relaxed. The small committee, led by a captain he had never met before, shuffled some papers on the table where they sat opposite.

"So, Mr. Hatchett," Captain Valorant started. He took a moment to reference the file in front of him, leaving Lee out to dry.

"Uh, Captain." Lee returned the greeting.

"Yes?" The other man looked up at him.

"Hm?" Lee raised an eyebrow. "What? I'm sorry. No. What's... what's the question?"

"Yes. Hm." Valorant shuffled another paper behind the file. Lee decided the best course forward was silence, though several choice comments leapt to his mind. That's not a question, he thought. Those papers are getting more action than I have in the last several months. What's going on?

"We're here for some routine questions," Valorant finally began. "Thank you for your time."

"Of course," Lee said, wondering if a question would ever come. "Is this... what is this about?"

"We're not at liberty to say."

"Of course." Lee nodded sagely. Idiots.

"Can you account for your location between the end of the 134th Biannual Hunger Games and your arrival at the Tower?"

Lee nodded. "Yes."

There was a moment of silence as Valorant looked expectantly at Lee. He cleared his throat. "Go on, then."

Lee blinked. "Oh! Sorry. Yeah. I was in Seven."

"What were you doing in Seven?"

"I live there."

"I mean, what activities were you doing."

"Oh." Lee shook his head. Shouldn't they know all this already? "My father died about a year ago. I was staying with my mother, helping her with. Everything. But then I got the President's letter saying I was to report back for Mentorship in January, and so. Here I am."

Valorant nodded, jotting something in an illegible script on a pad. "And in the months before you received the letter?"

Lee blinked again. "Uh. I was helping my mother. You know, with the funeral, keeping up with the house. That kind of thing."

"Do you have any siblings?"

"An older sister and a younger brother."

"And what do they do?"

Their best. "Sister is a nurse, and brother drives logging trucks."

Valorant's eyes rose slowly, though Lee could feel an intensity there. It offput and concerned him.

"What is your brother's name?"

"Bluejay."

"Does Bluejay drive to Eleven, ever?"

Lee furrowed his brow. It had been a while since his last geography class, but he was more or less certain. "I don't think so. He drives from Seven to the Captiol and back, mostly. So he goes through One, but never as far south as Eleven. Or as east."

Valorant nodded and made another note on his pad. "I see. These next questions are all just customary."

Lee nodded, shifting in his seat.

"Have you heard any conversations around the Tower related to rebel activity?"

Lee's eyes bulged a bit. "No!" he exclaimed. He took a breath to compose himself. "I also haven't been here. For like a year and a half."

Valorant continued his questions, his eyes down on his files. "Do you suspect anyone in the Tower of being aligned with the rebels?"

Lee pushed a breath through his teeth. "Once again, haven't been here. So, no."

"Is there anyone in the Tower you believe to have partaken in seditious activities?"

Lee's jaw fell open a tiny amount. "Uh. No. Sorry. I. I haven't been here. I hardly know some of these people."

Valorant once again shuffled some papers into a file and slid his pen over it to clasp it shut before raising his eyes to meet Lee's. "Thank you, Mr. Hatchett. That's all the questions we have for you."

Lee fought with his face to avoid his brow from furrowing. He squeezed his lips shut to stop the flow of something stupid, knowing the price that some Victors had paid in the past for saying the wrong thing at the wrong time. Instead, he forced his neck to bend in a small nod. "Uh. Sure thing. Have a good day."

And with that, he stood up and left. Valorant remained in the room, shaking his head. "Waste of time," the captain muttered. "We keep such good tabs on the Victors who aren't in the Capitol - it's the ones who are here who are dangerous."

[kinocomix]

metal band story devlog 12: Making art in 2024, a survival guide but also DOGGO

first things first, as I oh so subtly implied in the title of this devlog, have a dog:

I’m sure someone is out there yelling at their screen with anatomy complaints, but I like it.

This is a braque d'auvergne dog and it kinda looks like, well, every spotted dog ever. 

image from 101dogbreeds https://www.101dogbreeds.com/coat/spotted-dogs

The drawing above is the initial draft of what I kind of want the dog to look like for the most part. I’m taking the liberty of changing some things here and there, since I want the dog to be a mutt.

Here you can see I changed the torso shape, and made it so that I can redraw the design faithfully using simple proportions. I also took extra care to decide what the eyes looked like, so I tried several things there:

I ended up settling for, once again, the initial once I came up with (I swear I don’t do this all the time). I felt like I wanted the dog to feel like it could talk, but subvert that by having it be just a normal dog. During my research I also came across something cool that I will not be including in the design. Which is the fact that if a dog sustains an intense scar, the hair grows back WHITE.

also, this could entirely be me and my bias but it’s… hard to find pictures of deformed dogs that are ugly? like dogs are always so excited to exist that even if their entire lower jaw is missing they’ll look like a vibe and be having a good time if you’re nice to them.

on a final note regarding dogs, have this. It’s out of context and I won’t explain it cause I’d like to have everyone try to figure it out.

With that being done, you might notice I don’t have a final design yet, because the four sketches I drew were the only things I was able to accomplish this week. This is realistic progress. So let's talk about art in the internet age. you thought this was going to be a straightforward devlog about a dog? well think again. 

This week I had a lot of thinking to do outside of the context of comics and art. I’m 27, and although the internet has led us to believe that it’s straightforward to be a microcelebrity for a living it’s actually very difficult, and the mental toll it can take on you is equally as worth noting. it’s weird and volatile and you’re fighting an ever changing landscape of other people trying to get heard. I currently work at a board game store, one of the nicest jobs I could have hoped for. My boss is a fun guy, my coworkers are awesome and the people who come to the store are nice and from all walks of life… but it’s not sustainable for me. It's the night shift which goes against my natural circadian rhythm and the pay is mostly being spent on transport at the moment. One time I offhandedly said “art is made by people with day jobs” and while I meant it at the time the true meaning and depth of that statement is still unfolding to me. While writing this devlog, I had a job interview to attend. If we’re being realistic, while it’s possible for me to make a living off of making my comics for a dedicated niche audience that supports me on patreon, the chances of that actually happening are quite low given the fact that the rate at which I output things doesn’t work with the modern internet’s unquenchable need for more stuff.

this isn’t a new thing or will it ever go away. Art is an extension of us as human beings, it’s our desire to project meaning onto an uncaring world that we are part of. it’s ironic if you think about it for a second, a more pretentious person would call it something like “the duality of man” or some shit but I wouldn’t like that to be me. god, it would be so hilarious to look back at this devlog years from now and realize I unironically said “the duality of man”. Anyways the value of art, as we know, is not dedicated by how much attention it gets otherwise hominids all those years ago wouldn’t have put color to stone

Cave drawing in the upper Paleolithic cave of Chauvet-Pont d'Arc, Ardeche, France

you see there’s no real way of saying “I want less digital things in my life” without the internet seeing you as a 4567 year old grandma yelling at a cloud but that’s it really. The way I see it, artists on the internet can end up somewhere on this graph:

I think I fall where the red dot does. On top is my friend fouad, working on his graphic novel having left the internet entirely. closer to the left are most youtubers, to the right are people like my dad’s uncle, who would paint for himself and family members exclusively. 

Today was the first day where I looked at someone whose art was exclusive to one very specific place and said “I get it”. beyond a certain point the feeling of making something cool can get overshadowed by all the people running towards it. Meaningful connection gets replaced by a wall of words from many people where your ability to engage with it gets harder and harder the bigger the wall gets. Which is why I think I’m going to put the comic here on tumblr and tapas, and not bother with other places really.

Eventually, I’d like to be an art teacher. Until then we’ll make it work with what we have, and even if I don’t get my dream job I think I’ll still be happy.

Devlog update on Tuesdays.

[sepherinaspoppies]

never let me go

⋆. 𐙚 ˚ masterlist ✧₊⁺AO3 ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪ taglist

⟢summary: Aemond's girlfriend comes home stressed and frustrated and he knows how to help relieve her.

⟢pairing: modern aemond targaryen x reader

⟢warnings: adult themes, mdni! 18 years+, female receiving (oral), and cockwarming.

⟢wc: 2,105

⟢notes: I apologize if this sucks, I had a glass of rum and coke. haha anyways enjoy my babes

She didn’t realize tears were streaming down her cheeks until her keys twisted the door of her loft open. Pent up emotions of overwhelmingness and stress she had been holding in since the start of her day, were now released from the tight confines of her chest. 

“Hey, my love, I made that spicy vodka pasta you sent-” Her boyfriend’s warm and enthusiastic smile disappeared as he took in his girlfriend’s glossy eyes and puffy red lips. 

He knew something was wrong. 

Aemond cleaned off the minced garlic that gathered between his fingers with a kitchen rag and did not think twice before running across the loft from the kitchen where she stood paralyzed sniffing out her cries. 

“What’s wrong, my love? What happened? Talk to me”

She lightly brought her hand in the middle of Aemond’s chest, stopping his intrusion before he came. She did not expect for Aemond to be home early, she usually was the first one to arrive and prepare dinner for both of them and sometimes usually break out in a good cry when she was alone without the presence of her golden retriever boyfriend. 

She and Aemond had been together a little over four months. It started right after they became roommates, when she put an ad on their school’s announcement board and Aemond was the only one who did not smell like cigarettes, or did not talk so loud and trendy, or even mysteriously eyed her furniture. 

After they lived together for about a year things between them started heating up. Little soft touches became hot amorous touches that more often led to their clothing being left on the ground where they took out their carnal desire for each other. 

Aemond was the first one to admit out loud his feelings for her, his hot roommate he had been secretly pining for since the moment she let him inside her loft wearing those tight jeans that showed the curve of her ass. 

She, however, wasn’t so vocal about her feelings for Aemond. Of course, she loved him just as he did to her. But talking and displaying her emotions wasn’t something she excelled at and it was one of the reasons why she did not have many friends. 

Everyone, to her, eventually left. 

But Aemond stuck to her like glue, finding out ways to get her to talk openly and freely. 

Aemond furrowed his brows in confusion as his girlfriend continued to pour the tears out of her eyes. He had never seen her cry this much before. Aemond knew she was under a lot of pressure in pharmacy school, usually annoyed at the workload Maester Orwyle was giving her. 

She slowly lowered her arm away from his chest, dropping her keys along with her backpack heavy on the floor. She ran to Aemond without any hesitation like before. 

“I don't think I can do this anymore. It’s too much, Aem” She cried, nuzzling her head against his chest. She smelled the pasta and garlic that lingered on his apron that she bought him from T.J. Maxx. ‘Kiss the cook’ it said, buying it for the sole purpose to kissing him. 

Aemond drew soothing circles around her back, “You’re the strongest person I know and also the smartest. Seven Hells, you’re smarter than me! You’ll make an excellent pharmacist and maybe I’ll indulge your fantasy at playing doctor with me” He smirked, wiggling his brows after giving her head small little pecks. 

She giggled at his last sentence. 

“Come here” 

Aemond led her to the laundry room where her fresh and cleaned pj’s were folded nicely, he took liberty in doing some laundry and some light chores around their home after his art history class was canceled. Her wandering eyes looked well pleased enough at the cleanliness and Aemond prided himself knowing he pleased the love of his life. 

He changed her into her favorite Strawberry Shortcake matching pajama set, in hopes of trying to get his girlfriend to be comfortable and relaxed. 

She thanked him with a small smile but Aemond could see the stiffness around her shoulders and the slight tremble around her hands as she tried to lift both of their pasta-filled plates to their wooden kitchen table. 

Normally, a bit of chocolate sweets helped raise her blood sugar to cease the little shakiness whenever she cried or felt pressurized in her clinical work setting at the Citadel’s hospital. 

But Aemond knew something else that would help release the tension in her body. 

She yelped in surprise, nearly knocking over their plates as her boyfriend lifted her from underneath her arms to lay her on top of the table. 

“What the-” Her sentence was cut off as Aemond sat himself in the dinner chair, scooting closer between her legs to speedily tug down her strawberry printed flimsy shorts and tossing them somewhere in the kitchen. Aemond did not care if he had just cleaned the kitchen, fuck that he needed his sweet girl to be taken care of. 

“Normally your cunny serves me as dinner or dessert but right now it’s gonna be my appetizer” Aemond says with a hungry look in his eye. 

There are butterflies fluttering inside her stomach as she watches Aemond placing her legs on top of his shoulders and bringing his lips to kiss each of her inner thighs. 

She feels Aemond’s hot breath just centimeters away from the place she needed him the most and she let out an unfulfilled whine for Aemond to do something. Anything. 

Aemond continued to trail kisses up to her pelvis, inhaling the heady sweet natural scent through the tufts of hair that were glistening with her honey. His beautiful girl was wet, too wet for him. Aemond figured he could just stuff her with his cock right then and there since no more preparations were needed. 

But Aemond was starving and she was laying all spread out for him for the taking. 

Her hips buckled upwards feeling Aemond’s index finger parting open her lips, circling the swollen bud slowly without much pressure. No doubt he was teasing her to test how much wetter she could get. 

She wondered with his light graze if he could feel her heartbeat, how fast it was going with anticipation and desire for him. 

“Aemond, please” She pleaded, using her calves to bring Aemond’s head closer to her cunt. 

Aemond’s lips curled into a smirk and dragged his finger down inside her opening which earned a loud groan to be released from her. It was music to Aemond’s ears, a wonderful melody. 

He dives in unhesitantly, flattening his tongue to lick a long stripe from her center to her clit. Her jaw slacked open and her eyes tightly sealed to a close at the sensation. Aemond knew how to work his tongue very well and often praised him for it.

“So sweet” Aemond hummed the truth. The vibrations sent more euphoric waves to settle at the pit of her stomach. 

Aemond took turns in switching his fingers to circle her bud and using her his tongue to fuck her. 

Beads of sweat gathered on her forehead and her silky hair stuck to her. From the looks of it, Aemond knew she was enjoying his ministrations.  

She continued to fill the kitchen loudly with her moans as both of Aemond’s fingers and tongue relentlessly continued to explore and devour her like it was the first time. 

She brought herself to sit on her elbows and she watched as Aemond’s darkened violet eye stared at her intently as he continued to take in everything she was giving him. The sight alone and the sounds of him slurping her juices brought her to a close. 

Aemond felt his beauty’s fingers tangle his hair to bring him closer. He knew she was close so he did the one thing that he knew would bring her to peak. 

He brought his lips to a close on her clit and gently suckled on her throbbing pearl and moved his head side to side, not caring if her juices drenched his face even more. 

Her moans got louder and that band on her lower stomach snapped, releasing waves of warmth down her body. “Oh, Aemond! Yes!!” She cried loudly arching her back against the wood.

Aemond savored every bit of her honey, not letting any drop go to waste. Once her trembles of pleasure ceased, Aemond smiled knowing he was able to relax her. 

For now. 

Her body felt like noodles, she did not have the strength to sit back up. If anyone walked into the kitchen they would see how her position resembled that to a starfish.

But along that tiredness came hunger, and Aemond read her mind as he carefully helped her up, sitting her on his lap where she felt his hardness in his pants. 

“You think you can handle my cock? Or was that too much, my love?” Aemond questioned, voice still coated in remnants of pleasure as he combed back the strands of hair that stuck to her face. 

She leaned her head back on his shoulder tiredly. Could she handle him? She knew she could but her body was spent and weary from releasing all that pent up tension she lingered all day. 

“Yes, Aemond,” She muttered with tired eyes.

Her hands helped loosen the knot of the apron and Aemond shimmied his way out of his black jeans and boxers. His cock sprung free from its confines. Rock hard, long with a slight curve up that aided in hitting that special spot inside her. She gasped at the small beads of pre cum that trailed from the angry red head. 

Aemond hitched in his breath as she brought her finger to scoop his arousal and suck the drops away. 

“Give it to me, Aemond. Put your cock right where it belongs” 

Aemond moaned at her words and did exactly what his love wanted. He lined her body where his member stood proudly and greedily. He gave himself a few pumps before he gathered a few of her slickness and directed her hips to slowly sink herself down on him. 

She let out a long, wanton moan watching his cock slowly disappear inside her. Aemond wasn’t any better; he was fighting the urge not to rut inside her velvet walls like an animal. 

“B-big” Stuttered words left her.  

After they maintained their breathing in order, Aemond brought the now cold, pasta plates directly in front of their seat. Aemond wasn’t sure if the tiny sighs of relief was due to the new tasty cooked meal or him being stuffed inside her. 

Nonetheless, Aemond welcomed it. Her delicate and beautiful features displayed no more signs of sadness or pent up frustration, her appearance looked just as normal as before. Relaxed and happy. That was the girl he knew, the woman he fell in love with. 

They ate while being unified together, something they always did on every occasional day. Aemond loved being stuffed inside her warmness and she loved being full to the brim. It was akin to a missing puzzle piece finally being found and attached to its set.  

Once they finished their food rather quickly from the drained energy, Aemond, still attached to her, walked them over to their shared couch and laid them against the softness.

She but all hissed at the threat of him slipping out, Aemond reassured her with wolfish grin that he had no intention in leaving her anytime soon. 

Aemond turned on the telly, settling on a new episode of It’s Always Sunny In Philadelphia. A show they both loved and spent heavy amounts of hours binge watching. 

While Aemond had his focus on the episode where Charlie, Mac and Dennis were discussing the taste of creampies, she felt the need to grind against him trying to satisfy the new found itch her body was pleading to relieve. 

Aemond glanced down, “Be still, my love” he warned, kissing the tip of her nose. She pouted dejectedly. His tip settled on that spongy part that would make her come apart with a slight movement of his hips. 

A single strand of silver hair tickled the inside of her nose and before she knew it, before she could hold it in she jerked her body so suddenly as a sneeze escaped her followed by a series of mixed moans that she wasn’t sure if they were hers or his. But a deadly tight grip on her hips followed by twitch and warm thick ropes of spend, confirmed that Aemond had just come inside her. 

[regatoni1]

~Chapter Five~

You were at the diner with Lloyd, staring into his eyes as he talked about his dreams. 

"I wanna fight," he told you.

"Fight for what?"

"Somebody I love," and he looked at you as if you were going to be that person. 

You smiled bashfully and looked down to your plate.

"Your hair is still wet, princess."

"Well we should go dry it then shouldn't we?"

He smiled knowingly at you. "Don't have to ask me twice."

You took him to your dorm that night where he taught you more than one feeling.

The cold feeling lasted a few hours, and the pain in the side of your head still mercilessly throbbed.

You didn't know how long you'd been there, but it had been long enough for the blood to dry and brown along your skin.

Any feeling you had slowly faded away, other than anxiety for Claire.

After what you guessed was a day, Lloyd bounced his way merrily through the door, carrying a tray.

He pulled up a small table, the metal legs screeching against the floor.

The tray clattered noisily onto the surface of the table. On half of it was some food and a cup of water, the other was a pair of bloodied pliers.

"Well, eat up princess, I brought it here for you," Lloyd said happily. 

Humiliation bit its way up your throat and the bonds on your wrists suddenly felt heavier. 

"Oh, right," he drawled out. "I almost forgot."

Lloyd leaned forward and undid the ties on your wrists, but you didn't move your hands from where they were gripping the arm of the chair. 

He waited a moment, before he got up and started walking away with the tray.

He almost made it to the door before you interrupted. "Wait," you said quietly.

He turned his head and cocked it to the side, waiting.

"Come back."

"Come back, what?"

You forced the bile back down your throat. "Come back, please."

"Aww, see? I knew we had manners."

You didn't respond, holding in your retorts. 

He once again walked toward you and placed the tray back on the table. 

The pliers were too close to your food for comfort. "Whose blood?"

"Doesn't matter," he replied curtly. 

"Is it Claire's?" You didn't want to know. But you had to.

"No."

"How do I know you're not lying?"

"Why don't you graciously take what I've given you and when you're done, I'll tell you whose blood it is?"

You glanced at him once, before slowly picking up the sandwich from the plate. 

He watched you with a smile like the two of you were on a date, watched you like the day you met. 

It took fifteen minutes for you to finish the food, your stomach having shrunk from being tied up and dormant for so long. 

"You must have to go to the bathroom, yeah?" Every word he spoke was laced with mockery. 

You leaned in close to his face. "Whose. Blood?"

He leaned in even closer. "Your. Uncle's." And you knew it was true. 

You paled, and sat back into your chair.

"I still have the nails if you want them," he said, amusement lighting up his face. 

The sandwich you had choked down was dangerously close to showing itself. 

Lloyd bent down to your ankles and undid the restraints. 

He grabbed you roughly by the arm and hauled you up. 

"You try anything," he growled as the two of you walked to the door, "and I'll kill them both."

Again, you could feel the truth in his words, and they chilled you to the bone.

"Gosh!" he continued having a conversation with himself. "You're so cold, (y/n)! Why didn't you say something?" 

Lloyd stopped walking for a moment, and took off his jacket, handing it to you. 

You didn't take it, so he took the liberty of placing it on your shoulders. 

Normally, you would have shrugged the jacket off. Under any other circumstance, you would have attempted to rip his throat out. But not here, not now. Not when your little sister and apparently uncle were in danger. 

Lloyd took this as a sign of submission, and placed his arm around your shoulder as he led you throughout the halls. 

"You should really cover up, doll. It'll give people the wrong impression."

You hadn't noticed while you were pretending to be somewhere far, far away from here, but your shirt was still wide open, and goose bumps were prominent across your skin. 

Reluctantly, you slid your arms through the holes, folding the oversized jacket over your front. 

Suddenly, a large explosion sounded outside and Lloyd shielded your body with his. 

"Shit!" he cursed, running to the window. 

You took this as your moment to run away, but Lloyd was faster than you. Stronger than you. 

It only took him a few strides to completely catch up with you, once again using his arm to cut off your airways as he pinned you to the nearest wall.

"Going somewhere, sweetheart?" he asked gruffly in your ear.

You held on to his arm, a strangled cry finding its way past your lips.

"Yeah, I don't think so," he said, grabbing handcuffs from his back pocket, he linked himself to you.

You looked up to him in horror. "Leverage, darling."

~

"Took you long enough," Claire said with relief and a smile as Six opened the door to her room.

"Sorry bout' that. My flight was delayed," Six replied sarcastically. 

"I knew you'd catch another one," Fitz replied.  

"Where's (y/n)?" Six asked quickly. 

Claire's face fell and she looked to the floor.

"We, don't know..." Fitz said slowly. "Claire said that Hansen came in here yesterday morning, knocked her out, and took her somewhere else."

Six looked at Claire, then back to Fitz with determination. 

"Claire," he said without diverting his gaze. "Put these in your ears."

She complied, taking the earplugs from Six's outstretched hand and holding them, waiting for the conversation to finish before putting them in her ears. 

"You able?" he asked Fitz.

"Enough."

"Good. Here, take this." Six handed Fitzroy a gun. "Here's what's gonna happen," he continued. "You're going to take Claire through the front door, and run like hell. My partner should have drawn the snipers away or killed them. When I find (y/n), I'm going to take her around the back. We'll meet up in the east side of the castle, around 100 feet into the trees is an empty guard post stocked with guns." He then turned to Claire. "If anything happens, you find my partner and she'll keep you safe. Got it?"

Claire nodded slowly, fear evident on her face. 

"Put them in your ears, Claire," Six said referring to the earplugs still in her hand.

He watched the wall, hearing the softest creak in the floorboards outside. Calculated, he shot through the wall, a body falling and gently tapping the door open.

"You ready?" he asked Fitzroy, eyes not leaving his newest victim.

Fitzroy didn't say anything as the three of them collected and prepared themselves for whatever was about to happen.

~

Your arm was burning from the cold metal on your wrist as Lloyd led you around the castle. 

He all but dragged you up to where he kept you and Claire.

The two of you ran through a hallway littered with bodies all laying in their respective puddles of blood, coming upon an empty room.

Lloyd sighed. "He's in the house."

He yanked you back into the hallway, seemingly forgetting you were attached to him.

"Morons!" he yelled at the closest body to him. 

You jumped back when he whipped out his gun with his free hand.

He shot his dead guard in the head. Then, he turned to you.

"Sweetheart, your boy toy has caused a lot of problems for me. Let's go solve them, shall we?"

You swallowed around a lump in your throat. Still looking at the disrespected corpse you asked quietly, "What do you mean?"

"I mean," he said, lugging you down the hall with a sneer, "The three of us are about to play a very fun game."

He took you to a roof with two of his men in tow.

"Fitz, no!" you screamed as you discovered his body.

"Roll him," Lloyd said. 

His guard turned the body. "I'm sorry, (y/n)," Fitz said as he held a live grenade. 

"You douche!" Lloyd said as he pulled his man in front of him, simultaneously protecting you and himself.

The force of the blast took you and Lloyd down. 

Wrapped in his arms, he landed on top of you, crushing the air from your lungs. 

You started gasping for air, inhaling dust from the explosion instead. 

At some point, your gasping turned into sobbing.

Lloyd had already gotten up, but you stayed locked on the ground, staring at whatever was left of your uncle.

With a roll of his eyes and an exasperated exhale, he threw you onto his shoulders in a fireman's carry and started running toward the exit. 

You were still heaving for air, the jolting making your bruised ribs ache even more. 

He had made it completely out of the building, and you were on some sort of driveway beside the castle's moat when he said, "C'mon princess stop crying, isn't this the definition of sweeping you off your feet?"

It was at that moment when you started fighting again. 

He was looking for Claire, who was hopefully safe, and you didn't have to worry about Fitz.

You started pounding at his back, moving and squirming and kicking and doing whatever you could to hinder his movements.

"You little bitch, stop!" he called out, his pace slowing down.

"What Lloyd?" you panted. "Can't handle a little fight?"

Smiling, you continued until you were thrown off of his shoulders, landing on the ground with a thud. 

You then kicked his legs out from under him, forcing him onto his back.

Jumping on top, you wrapped your legs around his body, an attempt to lock his arms at his sides.

You ended up having to hold Lloyd's hand as to not break your wrist.

"On the contrary," he smiled. "This is exactly what I was hoping for our reunion."

"You disgust me."

He feigned pain. "Ouch, princess."

He ended up maneuvering his body in a way that forced you off of him. 

"Bet Fitzy didn't teach you that, huh?"

You both swiftly stood up, but you were faster and therefore had the chance to pin his handcuffed hand behind him back. One wrong move, and his arm would break.

You stood on your toes to whisper into his ear, "Don't think for a second you're allowed to talk about my uncle like that."

Before you saw it you heard him smirk. Just before you broke him arm, he took his free hand back over his head, grabbing his own jacket still wrapped around your body, and by sheer strength ripped you over his head to the ground in front of him.

"Fuck!"

He took a knee in front of you, leaning in to speak.

"Now sweetheart, let's try this again, shall we?" He smiled pleasantly at you. "You're going to get the fuck up off the ground, and we're going to walk our pretty little faces over to your boyfriend."

"And what in the actual fuck made you believe I'd listen?" you responded in the same, venomous tone he used with you. 

There was something there, in his eyes when you said that, that made you extremely confused. 

Fear? No. Was that... sadness?

It snapped away as fast as it had arrived. But that didn't stop you from filing it away in your mind. 

You created a plan.

"Aww sunshine, I really thought we had a connection back at Harvard, didn't you?" Lloyd pouted.

"Yeah I did," you answered truthfully. You honestly thought that Lloyd was the type of person you had always wanted to be with, forever. The Lloyd you knew from school, anyway. 

His back straightened and his eyebrows furrowed slightly at your confession, not expecting your answer.

"If you promise not to hurt me or Claire, I'll go with you."

"I'm not the best at keeping promises,  babycakes."

"Lloyd, please," you begged. You were tired, aching, and just wanted to go home. 

He didn't say anything, didn't agree to anything, but he offered you his hand to stand up. Albeit your wrists were handcuffed together and he needed you to get up to go anywhere, it was enough of a promise to you.

You took his hand and the two of you stood facing each other in a moment of calm. 

Lloyd cupped the side of your face hesitantly, like he had one less wall protecting him on the inside from you. 

He leaned in for a kiss, and you closed your eyes, a single tear escaping from one. 

His lips pressed gently against yours, and the tenderness of it all had you frozen like a deer in headlights. 

Then you heard a gunshot. 

Go to Chapter Six

[today-only-happens-once]

Take a Sad Song and Make It Better

Title: Take a Sad Song and Make It Better

Word Count: 1454

Summary: They’re both just trying their best, but sometimes they fall short. “How many times does it need to happen before you learn?” Brotherly Logince angst for @justisaisfine’s Sanders Bro AU. A short fic based on this art from it (the first pic, anyway).

Warnings: physical abuse (or at least the ramifications of it), cigarette burns, yelling, arguing, misunderstanding, angst, hurt/comfort but mostly hurt I think. Let me know if I missed anything.

A/N: So this was originally a much longer idea, but… I just couldn’t get anything else to come to fruition, and I think I’m okay with how this scene turned out? Sorry this is like, way shorter than the original idea I’d pitched to you, Isa. :/ But I hope this short little thing is okay! And many, many thanks as always to you for giving me permission to play in your ‘verse. 

Tags: @creativenostalgiastuff, @helloisthisusernametaken, @ren-allen, @quoth-the-sparrow, @princelogical, @random-pianist, @ravenclawicecream, @erlenmeyertrash, @milomeepit, @at-least-seven-pretty-potatoes, @rileyfirstname, @pinkeasteregg, @sassy-in-glasses, @vigilantvirgil, @generalfandomfabulousness, @lacrimosathedark, @thepoolofthedead, @monikastec, @heir-of-the-founders, @yourworstnightmare999, @artistictaurean, @kanejandkruge, @cdragontogacotar, @damienswifeolicitydallysgirl, @angst-patton, @savingshae, @noneed4thistbh, @awesomelissawho, @unikornavenger, @bopthesnoz, @spiralofsilencetheory, @finger-gunsss, @crownswriter123, @swlotakulady34, @gaylotusthatexists, @analogical-mess, @dolphidragon, @flix-net, @narniasfinestavengingsociopath, @friedlieb-ferdinand-runge

…

Logan hisses quietly, cradling his arm as he weighs whether its better to clean it off in the kitchen sink or the bathroom. He can hear footsteps scuffing against the carpet of the hallway around the corner. He doesn’t know if it might be his mother coming back, even though she’d just gone to her room 98 seconds ago.

He glances at the clock; it’s almost dinnertime. She could very well be returning. Perhaps the bathroom was the wiser choice.

“Logan?”

He freezes for a moment before he realizes its his older brother appearing in the doorway to the kitchen from behind him. Logan turns around to face him, watching the way Roman’s eyes widen. Logan instinctively drops his arm, grimacing tightly as the fresh burns brush against the starchy shirt he’s wearing.

He opens his mouth to explain himself, but no words come as Roman rushes towards him and reaches for his arm. He’d already ignored his internal timer once today, after all.

He’d been stupid. He’d known his mother was beginning to lose patience with him—he’d seen it in the clench of her jaw, in her silence when he’d ask a question, in her quick and increasingly terse side-glances. But he really thought he’d chosen an interesting topic this time: NASA was exploring new technology for deep space imaging.

That was your first mistake, he tells himself plainly. You find it interesting. Mom doesn’t.

He looks again at Roman, who now is inspecting his injured arm. He reminds Logan a little of their mom in this moment; his jaw is clenched, he glances quickly at Logan. His silence. Although, Logan reminds himself that technically it was Roman who asked a question and Logan who didn’t answer this time.

“C’mon,” Roman says quietly as he stands up. The similarities to their mother in his expression is replaced in something flat that Logan can’t read. He follows.

Roman leads him to the bathroom closest to his bedroom and quietly shuts the door behind them. Roman is silent as he opens the cabinet mirror and pulls out antiseptic, Neosporin, and cotton balls. He sets them on the white porcelain counter. Logan stares at the light tiled floor, replaying the conversation with his mom.

He’d started speaking at 4:00. His mom grabbed his arm at 4:37. His first warning had come ten minutes before that. He files that information away in the back of his mind.

“What happened?” Roman asks as he wets a washcloth in the sink, finally breaking the silence. He looks at his brother through the reflection in the mirror above the sink.

Logan is trying to hold his arm as still as possible as he stares vacantly at the peeling cream colored paint where the wall meets the ceiling. “I was telling mom about the new NASA technology.” His gaze flickers to his brother just in time to see the way his shoulders move with a sigh and the slight shake in his head.

“You know you can tell me that kind of stuff when mom doesn’t want to listen, right?”

Logan tenses. It’s not the same. She’s mom. “I thought it was interesting. Mom told me to stop but I hadn’t gotten to the most interesting part yet.” He doesn’t know why he says that. He recognizes that it isn’t an answer to Roman’s rhetorical question.

“Logan…” Roman wrings the washcloth out and turns back to face him. His brows are pulled together. “What made you think this was going to be different than any other times you’ve tried to talk to mom?”

“I thought if I could speak quickly enough this time, maybe I could get to the interesting part and mom wouldn’t mind if I talked as much.” As Logan explains, Roman kneels in front of him and takes his arm. He jaw is tense, his expression unreadable to Logan as he studies the fresh burns on his arm more closely. Logan presses on. “But talking more quickly I think may have aggravated her further—”

“Logan, please!” Roman snaps suddenly, his gaze flying up to lock onto his younger brother. He looks angry to Logan. His grip around Logan’s arm tightens slightly. “How many times does it need to happen before you learn?”

Logan yanks his arm from his brother’s grip. He stumbles back a step.

He feels shaky and he can’t explain why. He clenches his teeth as he stares at where Roman’s knees meet the tile bathroom floor and waits for the heat in his eyes to go away. “Learn what, Roman?” he asks in as measured of a voice as he can manage.

In Logan’s peripheral, he sees Roman’s grip around the washcloth clench. “Isn’t it Einstein who said that it was insanity to do the same thing over and over and expect different results? You keep doing this, and… you keep getting hurt, Logan. And I…” Roman trails off.

“What do you want from me?” Logan snaps. Angry at his brother. Angry at the way the world is blurring on the edges of his vision. Angry with himself, because maybe Roman has a point and Logan can’t make sense of why that infuriates him. “To just shup up? Stop talking? I thought you said I could talk to you. Now you want me to shut up too.”

“That’s not what I meant.”

“Oh, isn’t it?”

“I just…”

“You what, Roman? You’re tired of having to apply Neosporin to my arm?

“No. I just wish that--"

“Tired of having to pick up the pieces because I’m too stupid to keep my mouth shut? Well, message received. I’ll keep my sleeves rolled down next time—”

“I can’t always protect you, Logan!” Roman blurts out and it surprises the younger brother so much that he looks up and finally meets Roman’s gaze. He doesn’t look angry anymore. He’s pale. Logan is struck suddenly with how similar Roman looks to his youngest brother, Virgil all of a sudden.

He’s scared.

Logan’s jaw snaps shut as Roman presses on.

“I… wish I could. But I can’t, no matter how hard I try…” Roman swallows hard and averts his gaze, as if ashamed. He continues haltingly, like he’s fighting with himself through each word. “And when I can’t … when I’m not there or fast enough or… just… Logan, please.” He sounds less angry when he says those words this time. He sounds like he’s pleading. He sounds tired. “I need to know that you’ll try to keep yourself safe when I’m not around.”

For a moment, Logan doesn’t know what to say. He’d always seen the way Roman would intervene with their mom and dad when it came to the three of them; Logan wasn’t blind, and he wasn’t that much younger than Roman. But he’d never really thought that Roman would think of that as a responsibility he carried. It never occurred to Logan that Roman would see their injuries as a sign of some kind of personal failing on his part.

It leaves an uneasy feeling in Logan’s stomach that he can’t explain. He doesn’t know what to say. He doesn’t even know what his expression is.

Roman looks at him for a long, careful moment, then sighs again. He holds out a hand. A peace offering.

“Let me help you, Lo. I don’t want you to get infected, yeah?”

Logan swallows hard and nods. “Yeah.” He reaches his arm out, letting Roman take it.

His brother’s grip is impossibly gentle now. He dabs gently at the fresh, angry burns with the damp cloth. A part of Logan is afraid to look up at Roman’s face again. He tells himself its juvenile, but he doesn’t want to see that fear in Roman’s eyes again. So instead, Logan watches Roman tend to his arm. As he sets the washcloth aside and reaches for the antiseptic and cotton balls, Logan hears him humming very softly. It takes him a moment before he places the song. “Hey Jude” by the Beatles.

Neither of them say anything while Roman cleans his arm, nor when he applies Neosporin and helps Logan roll his sleeve down. Logan just watches his big brother and listens to his humming.

When he finally gets the courage to look up at Roman, he still sees the edge of lingering fear that’s chipped away some of the brightness Roman usually had. For the first time but certainly not the last, Logan wonders how much of it is an act. How much Roman hides from them in the name of protection.

He’s not alone, Logan tells himself, even as Roman gives him a small smile and closes the supplies behind the cabinet. He’s got us, too.

[theladyofmanyfandomsfanfiction]

Homesick Padawan

Characters: Anakin, Reader

Warnings: None

Summary: Anakin had only been brought to the Jedi Temple recently, it was only natural for him to feel a little homesick. It’s a good thing that you’re around.

You were in a thrilling conversation with Obi-Wan when a commotion interrupted the peace of the Temple which made the pair of you to stop and turn towards the disruption. Running through the hallway was the young Anakin Skywalker, speeding past Jedi and forcing them out of their paths. He sprinted straight for the pair and, when he approached, smacked straight into you, wrapping his small arms around your waist.

"Anakin?" You questioned with surprise, hugging the young boy and resting a hand on his head. "Is everything alright?"

Anakin shook his head and buried his face in your robes. His tears began soak through as you felt a swell of sadness for the boy. You looked to Obi-Wan for assistance and he pat your arm gently.

"I'll find Master Qui-Gon." He smiled.

Looking at the boy attached to your being, you stroked his light brown hair to soothe him and then bent down to his level.

"Hey, do you want to see something cool?" You whispered mysteriously, hoping it would catch his attention and stray his mind enough from what upset him.

A few tears rolled down Anakin's cheeks and he wiped them away. "What?" He sniffed.

You smiled and took his little hand as you stood back up, flashing him a wink. "My secret hideout." 

You led Anakin through a few corridors and down a staircase towards a small room where you stored some mechanical objects. In your very limited spare time, you enjoyed repurposing broken droids for use around the temple.

It seemed to have excited the child as Anakin ran past you and over to a bench where he grasped the shiny new tools.

“Wow!” He said. “I’ve always wanted a scrapper wrench like this!”

You smiled from the doorway and then stepped inside to put away a few boxes you had forgotten remove a few days ago. A ‘bad habit’ Obi-Wan would have called it.

"So, do you want to talk about why you were crying?" You wondered and lifted a brown box.

Anakin played with some coloured wires on the table and didn't look at you. He went quiet for a long couple of minutes, until…

"I miss my mom."

You smiled at his innocent confession. Nodding, you moved over to another corner of the room and leaned against a bench.

“That’s okay, I miss mine too.” You told him.

Anakin frowned and wrangled a copper wire in his hands. “They said I couldn’t see her ever again.”

The boy was in need of sympathy. Younglings are not in contact with their parents when they join the Academy but Anakin had grown up with his mother and the bond they had could not be easily forgotten.

You sighed and moved away from the bench. Walking over to the disheartened child, you picked Anakin up and sat him on top of the bench where you smoothed out his hair.

“Listen, the future is yet to be written.” You explained kindly and pressed a kiss to his forehead. “Believe in the Force, Anakin. It will guide you to your mother again.”

“Will you train me?” Anakin’s sudden diversion made you laugh.

“Unfortunately, I’m not a Master yet, nor am I at the liberty to make that decision. But I’m sure that whoever makes you their Padawan will love you.”

“You said the future hasn’t been written, so how can you be sure?” Anakin questioned.

His cleverness had no bounds and you grinned. “I can feel it in the Force.”

Just at that moment, there was a knock at the door and Obi-Wan entered with Master Qui-Gon. The latter of whom walked over to where Anakin sat.

“I heard that you were scared.” He noted kindly. Anakin nodded.

“I was but I’m not anymore. Y/n made me feel better.”

Obi-Wan smiled, his eyes drifting over to meet yours and holding his gaze. “Yes, they have that effect on everyone.”

Masterlist here

[albakore]

Away From Home

Characters: Zhongli, Diluc, Kaeya, Childe, Thoma/Tohma (fem!reader) (fic)

Synopsis: (office!au) Even your boss Zhongli has moments where self control goes out the window to make way for carnal desires.

Warnings: not sfw (18+) reverse harem, (an orgie?), semi public sex again, creampie, oral (giving), petnames (angel, princess, gem), squirting, umm? did i miss anything?, not proofread because im lazy if you catch any errors feel free to shoot me an ask,

A/N: This is a part two to Office Adventures but t's not necessary that you read it before this. I don't know if people were expecting a direct continuation of the last one but I took some creative liberty because I felt like that would be boring and instead created a whole new scenario, I hope you all enjoy it just the same!

⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⊰⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅∙∘☽༓☾∘•⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅ ⊰ ⋅•⋅

The sexual tension in the office since that (ahem) eventful meeting had been nothing short of palpable, as Lisa had been ever so kind to point out. Even Jean and Eula were starting to grow frustrated with the way Childe and Kaeya made it painstakingly obvious their lust for you, and as you explained to Jean apologetically, they just wouldn't seem to take your request to tone it down seriously. Though you couldn't deny that even you often found your mind wandering as you sat alone in your office, frequently coming to remember the way you wobbled out of the meeting room that day, cunt quivering and leaking cum.

Luck seemed to be on Jean's side however, because this week you found yourself away from the office on an important regional business conference accompanied by none other than the men themselves, leaving her alone in charge of the office for a few days. The adventure of being in a new place was always exciting; there was light in your eyes as your plane touched down just outside the city, the skyline stood shimmering off in the distance. Though, as Diluc so gracefully reminded you, this was not a vacation but a business trip and most of your time would be consumed by meetings and other work-related affairs.

"(Name)!" You heard someone call from behind you. You were walking back to the hotel after another boring day of drifting in and out of meetings with people you hardly knew and topics you hardly cared about.

"Hm?" Your head turned to see three familiar figures waving at you as they approached.

"Care to join us for dinner? It'll be our treat." Childe asked once they had caught up to you, falling into step beside you.

"Where are you guys going?" You asked. You silently took in the appearance of the boys beside you. You hadn't gotten a chance to see them all day since you greeted them at the complimentary hotel breakfast bar this morning, and you had to admit they cleaned up nicely. You admired the three's formal dress, remembering the way Zhongli had specifically lectured them on the importance of appearance at an event like this. You notes Thoma's expensive looking watch and Kaeya's tailored button-up shirt that was, of course, unbuttoned halfway now that the workday was over. Childe had his suit jacket thrown over his shoulder, one hand holding the jacket the other shoved in his pocket.

"Mr. Zhongli found this fancy looking French restaurant a few blocks away, he wanted us to get there before we missed our reservation time." Thoma answered.

"Where is he?" You asked, taking note of his and Diluc's absence from the group.

"He and Diluc got caught up in some last minute business they had to attend to. It's times like these I don't envy the higher up positions of our company's cofounders." Kaeya answered you this time. "No matter how attractive the pay increase may seem, I can only handle so much overtime."

"You can say that again." Childe chuckled in agreeance, "I can't tell you how many times I've left the office only to come back in the morning and find Zhongli still hunched over some paperwork."

"Hey, guys, I think this is the place." Thoma motioned to the building you were approaching, and you immediately realized that 'fancy looking' was an understatement. "Will you be joining us, Lady (Name)?" Thoma questioned, extending his hand as an invitation to you.

"I don't see why not." You flashed him a smile before placing your hand in his, allowing him to tug you along. Kaeya opened the door for you, gesturing to allow you to step inside first. You were awestruck by the inside -- if you thought ‘fancy looking’ was an understatement for the outside, then the inside could be described as nothing short of grandiose. There were round tables covered in white cloth and fancy silverware, a fountain sat in the middle of the room behind the hostess desk and elegant trimmings lining the staircase off on the far side of the room. You quickly quelled your shocked expression as the hostess approached you.

"We have a reservation for six under the name Zhongli." Childe told her. "We'll have two more joining us later."

She checked her ledger and quickly crossed off the name. "Right this way, sir." She said to Childe with a polite smile. She led your group away from the main room, opening the door to a nicely decorated single-table room with a pleasant and romantic vibe, most likely accredited to the soft lighting.

“Thank you.” Childe told her as you four took your seats. One side of the table had booth-style seating and the other side had individual chairs. She closed the door with a click, and before you knew it you were sat in between Kaeya and Childe on the booth side, with Thoma directly across from you. You picked up a menu and began flipping through it to get a feel for what items might interest you. Before long, Childe’s hand had found its way onto your thigh. You looked down at it before looking back at him, a silent prompt for an explanation. “What?” He inquired mischievously, thumb rubbing your skin gently.

You opened your mouth to respond, but before you could your server opened the door with a brief knock. Childe’s hand stayed firmly in place as the server introduced themselves before asking if they could get you guys anything to drink. Thoma and Childe ordered regular fountain drinks, and requested two extra waters be brought out preemptively for Diluc and Zhongli whenever they should arrive.

“Ah yes may I have a glass of your finest red wine.” Kaeya asked with a smile once it came his time to order, earning a look from you. “What? It’s coming out of Diluc’s pocket not mine, might as well make good use of it.”

"And I'll have a..." You started, feeling Childe's hand inch upwards as the servers gaze remained fixed on you. "Just a r-regular glass of water please." You managed to force out while trying to ignore the growing feeling of need that Childe's attention was causing you. You smiled at the server as they stated that they'd be right back with your drinks.

Moments after the server left, Thoma's phone started buzzing. He answered it and paused for a few moments before he stepped away saying something about needing to meet Diluc and Zhongli in the lobby. That left you alone trapped in a booth with two mischievous gazes focused on you. "I must say, (Name)," Childe started, "you look absolutely stunning tonight. You really took Zhongli's 'Dress to Impress' speech to heart it seems." His flirty demeanor was predictable, earning a chuckle and an eye roll from you. His fingers were tracing patterns into the flesh of your inner thigh, head resting in his other hand as he studied you. You felt Kaeya's arm snake around your torso, hand coming to rest on your hip.

"He's right, you should wear this outfit more often." Kaeya whispered into your ear.

“You know, typically you’re supposed to wine and dine me before you-“ A knock resonated from the door, cutting you off and causing Kaeya to pull away from you but neither him nor Childe made any effort to remove their hands from where they were situated. The server entered with the table’s drinks on a tray, dishing them out to their respective spots on the table before asking if anybody was ready to order. Kaeya told them politely that we would wait for the rest of the group to join us first, and with that they turned and exited the room again.

You watched as Kaeya reached for his no doubt expensive wine, taking a sip and letting out a satisfied hum. "This wine is absolutely divine, it's not often I get the chance to indulge in such luxury. Would you like to try some, angel?" Kaeya asked you while his fingertips traced your hips.

"Sure." You hummed back, reaching out to grab the glass but Kaeya stopped your hand. You looked at him quizzically, watching as he dipped two fingers into the glass and let the crimson liquid pool at his fingertips. He brought his fingers to your lips, waiting for you to part them. You did, but only ever so slightly, letting your tongue drag along his slender fingers with a hum of delight as you maintained eye contact with him. Once upon a time you may have been flustered by his actions, but ever since the incident in the meeting room you have become no stranger to these types of occurrences. You pulled away before pressing a kiss to the pads at the tip of his finger.

"Divine indeed, captain." You added teasingly, the nickname a reference to a costume he wore to a halloween party last year that had caught on and stuck around even months after. You watched his unreadable expression closely as you awaited his response. He grabbed your face, tugging you toward him so he could plant a firm kiss on your lips while he caressed your cheek gently. You felt Childe's hand inch upward yet again further and further before finally reaching your clothed sex. Your breath hitched as Kaeya deepened the kiss, Childe rubbing you through thin material at a teasingly slow pace. You shifted your hips, trying to gain more friction from his fingers.

Kaeya pulled back from the kiss to let you catch your breath. "You know, there is one thing that would make this wine taste better." He kissed along your jaw and down your neck, breath fanning your skin as he continued. "If I could pour it over your chest and lick it off of you, slowly, inch by inch while you squirmed under my touch. That would make this experience undeniably perfect." You felt a shiver run down your spine, hand intertwining with his hair. As if working in tandem with Kaeya, Childe took this opportunity to slip his fingers past the barrier of fabric, your slick making his fingers run smoothly over your folds. Your free hand extended over to Childe's lap so you could palm him through his pants, thumb caressing the imprint of his erection. He let a breathy moan right next to your ear, fingers slipping into your heat.

"This is our reserved room, correct?" Zhongli’s voice resonated from just outside the door before the door swung open. He stepped in, followed by Diluc and Thoma. Your eyes met with Zhongli's as you tried futilely to push the lustful duo off of you. You filled with embarrassment when you thought about how sleazy you must look with Kaeya's lips attached to your neck and Childe's fingers squelching in and out of you. "Thoma, switch with (name), please. Evidently these two are incapable of practicing self control."

"W-what?" You protested, stomach sinking at the thought of disappointing your boss.

"Seriously, you two wouldn't know good timing if it hit you in the face. Your hotel rooms are literally a few yards away from each other." Diluc scoffed, tossing his suit coat over the back of his chair before pulling it out and sitting in it.

Childe pulled away from you, frowning at Diluc's words. "If I'm not mistaken, it was you who was moaning her name last night while you were alone in the shower, no?"

"And if I'm not mistaken, I'm still your boss. Watch how you talk to me." Diluc shot back immediately, crossing his arms over his chest. You scooted out of the booth, over Childe's lap, effectively pulling away from the two.

"Sorry.." You fiddled nervously with the hem of your skirt, still trying to recover from the embarrassment.

"You misunderstand me, gem, I'm not upset at you in the slightest." Zhongli smoothed over some of your hair comfortingly. "I specifically had a talk with these two about keeping things professional on this trip. This has nothing to do with you or your actions." You stared at him for a second before nodding. You took your place in between Zhongli and Diluc, directly across from where you had been previously sitting.

"How did your meetings go?" Zhongli asked you, tone much softer than the one he had just taken with Childe and Kaeya.

"They were boring for the most part, I managed to make a few connections though so that's good. What about you?" You responded, tuning out Diluc and Childe's bickering in the background.

"Stressful, I had many presentations to give, and only few bode over well."

"That's just how it goes." Thoma chimed in. "Tomorrow is a new day filled with new opportunity, I'm sure you'll do better."

"Stressful, eh? Fortunately for you, I know of the perfect way to relieve stress." Kaeya, ever the troublemaker, fixed his gaze on you pointedly for a few seconds to allow his point to get across. He just couldn't help himself when the ball was set up fo perfectly for him to spike it. You studied Zhongli's expression, his face remaining stoic as he processed Kaeya's innuendo.

"Unfortunately, the rules I set for you two apply to me as well. It would be wholly unfair to not hold myself to the same standard I hold my staff." Zhongli answered effortlessly. Seems like all these years of press conferences seemed to have really sharped his ability to form charismatic responses. Wait, 'unfortunately'?

"C'mon, Zhongli, (name)'s had eyes for us just as much as we've had eyes for them. You should see the look they get on their face when they're alone in their office." Childe laughed after ending his bickering session with Diluc. Your eyes went wide at that, having whole-heartedly believed you were being careful about when to indulge in your fantasies. "Besides, doesn't fucking them senseless sound like the perfect pick-me-up after a long day of meetings."

Zhongli seemed like he was still struggling to process his comment, resolve chipping with every second. He couldn't deny the nights he spent replaying the image of you bent over that table while he pleasured himself, and tonight was shaping up to be no different -- well, that would have been the case had he not attended this dinner. His eyes shifted over to you, inner turmoil apparent in them. Evidently, your response would be the deciding factor that pushed Zhongli to either side of the fence.

"He's not wrong." You shrugged, offering Zhongli a small smile. It was a simple sentence, only three words and yet… You watched his expression darken in that moment, his half hard erection already apparent in his pants.

"Thoma," you immediately noted the way his voice seemed to have dropped an octave. His gaze never once left yours.

"Yes boss?" Thoma responded almost instantly.

"Lock the door." Zhongli growled. Your heart skipped a beat, you felt heat rush straight to your core. The way Zhongli was looking at you made you feel bare even though not a single article of clothing had been removed from your form, at least not yet.

"The waitress is going to come back to place our order though." Diluc seemed to be the only voice of reason in this scenario. Thoma returned, scooting back into his spot in the booth, forcing Childe to be the one trapped in the middle this time. "That's gonna look awfully suspicious."

"Frankly, I can't seem to bring myself to care about that right now." Zhongli stood from his seat. He turned toward you, motioning for you to stand as well. "We'll tell them I had an important announcement that I didn't want getting interrupted or something." He lifted you at the hips and set you down on the table, placing himself in between your legs and pulling your core to meet his crotch. His lips caught yours, deep and breathtaking, as his hands roamed over your body. He tugged your shirt to untuck it until his fingers came into contact with the hem. He pulled it up, breaking the kiss to allow him to discard your shirt.

You found yourself rocking against him as his lips worked down your neck and chest. A new pair of hands hooked themselves under your bra clasp. You looked back to see Childe's arm extended. He pushed the straps off your arms, allowing the bra to fall away and expose your breasts. The cool air made your nipple perk instantly. You felt Childe's hands tug you down gently, allowing your back to lay against the cool cloth. You looked over to see Diluc's hands full of your table's drinks as he set them off to the side to avoid any accidents. Thoma eagerly took one of your nipples into his mouth while Kaeya's cold hand cupped the other.

Childe scooted the table away from him to provide him with the room to stand up. Your cheeks burned as you found yourself face to face with his still clothed erection. He chuckled at your expression, fingers caressing your cheek. He let his pointer finger trail delicately down your jaw to your chin, and then from your chin down your exposed neck. You shivered slightly at the way it tickled.

You felt someone tug down your skirt and your underwear, cool air rushing over your core. Zhongli had managed to free his member from his pants and was pumping himself outside of your field of vision. His other hand was pressed to your hip. He admired the way your chest heaved. Thoma and Kaeya littered your skin with bite marks and kisses. You watched intently as Childe followed in Zhongli's lead, freeing himself from his pants. Your lips parted slightly in anticipation, breath fanning the tip of Childe's dick with every exhale. Zhongli lined himself up with your entrance, you clenched your fists when you felt his tip push in. He sunk the rest of the way into you, a sigh of relief falling from his lips. He silently thanked Kaeya and Childe for prepping you so well before he had even arrived. Childe repeated this same process with your lips, slowly sinking into your mouth and relishing the feeling of your warm tongue wrapping around him.

The men both started thrusting at the same time but at very different paces. Childe was eager and less restrained, holding you steady while he fucked your face. He was also louder, not seeming to care if the staff or other patrons heard how good you were making him feel. Zhongli on the other hand was slower, drawing all the way out of you before slamming back into you. Though, after a few moments he seemed to compromise with himself and picked up the pace slightly, only drawing partially out of you, but still enough to let you feel his tip hit deep inside of you with each powerful thrust. You felt Diluc's familiar fingers come into contact with your clit, rubbing you in just the right way to make you clench around Zhongli and moan around Childe. Diluc left kisses all over your lower half, his long hair spilling over his shoulder and tickling your stomach.

The lewd sounds of slapping and kissing and sucking were all that could be heard in the room, along with Childe’s occasional unrestrained noises of pleasure. He moaned your name, head thrown back and mouth agape. His cheeks were flushed bright pink, and they only seemed to glow brighter the closer he got to cumming. Childe's pace became sloppy and erratic as he drew near to his own orgasm, thrusts becoming shallow as he chased euphoria. He pulled out right as he hit his high point so he could paint your chest with his cum. He moaned your name particularly loudly as he did, using his own hand to slowly lower himself down from his peak.

Kaeya pulled back and marveled at the marks he left on your skin, the imprints of his teeth visible in several spots. "My turn already?" He hummed, fingers tracing over the splotches and bruises on your skin. "A shame, I wasn't finished with my work of art yet." He stood up nonetheless as Childe fell back on the seat behind him, still trying to catch his breath. Kaeya quickly took his place, much to Thoma's disappointment. Kaeya's signature smirk hadn't left his face once while he admired the way your breasts glistened with a mixture of sweat and cum. He slowly undid the button to his pants, pushing them partially down his legs before moving to his underwear. You swear his cock bounced when it sprang free, tip flushed and absolutely beautiful. It seems this man truly didn't have an ugly bone in his body.

You felt Zhongli slowly coming undone inside you too, his cock twitching more and more every time he pushed himself into your smooth walls, even more so whenever Diluc's added stimulation made you clench around him. You felt yourself rock against his fingers, your own climax on the horizon. Zhongli gave one final thrust into you before you felt him spill his hot seed into you, his fingers digging into your hips in an attempt to ground himself. You moaned at the feeling of your walls being coated white. Kaeya took this as an opportunity to muffle you with his cock. He stuffed your mouth full of him, watching in a sort of satisfied sadistic fashion as you choked slightly on his length.

Zhongli pulled out of you after he finished cumming, panting heavily. You whined around Kaeya's cock at the loss of contact, hole clenching desperately around nothing. You squirmed your hips and mewled, hoping someone would get your wordless plea for some form of stimulation. Diluc, ever so observant, was the first one to pick up on your discomfort. "Aw, does my little princess want to be filled up again?" He asked tauntingly. "Do you want my cock inside of you?" His fingers continued to push you toward your orgasm. He chuckled at the way you jerked your hips into his touch, whines becoming louder still even with your mouth full of Kaeya's erection. As he felt your body start to tense, he withdrew his hand from your clit before you could cum. You pressed your thighs together while a groan left your lips, feeling frustrated tears well up in your eyes.

Diluc switched spots with Zhongli and unzipped his pants loud enough to get the anticipation in your stomach building rapidly. You heard fabric bunching and shuffling, and in turn took advantage of the adrenaline rush you were getting to eagerly please Kaeya. You hollowed your cheeks and allowed your tongue to work over him, lewd sucking noises escaping your lips. Kaeya groaned in response, his grip on your head tightening still as he bucked his hips into you frantically. You felt Zhongli's rough hands run over the skin of your breasts, centering on the nipples. You felt him wipe some of Childe's cum off you, and moments later the feeling of his fingers got replaced with his tongue as he sucked slightly on the soft flesh.

You sucked in a sharp breath when you felt Diluc's tip at your entrance, face contorting as you prepared for him to stretch you out just like Zhongli had. You paused as he pushed in -- not all the way, just an inch or so -- to truly revel in the feeling the he was providing you. He sunk in a little bit more to let you get used to the feeling of him in your tight sex, he was a little more girthy than Zhongli. Finally, he pushed into you until he bottomed out, filling your cunt to the brim with his member. A quiet groan escaping his lips; you would give anything to see the blissful look on his face right now.

You squirmed as he started to move. He went slowly at first, letting himself become coated in your slick to make his job easier. He took a few moments to find a good rhythm, one that was much different from Zhongli's. He was steady and consistent, pulling out an inch or two only to push back into you. He lifted one of your legs to give him a better angle, you let out a muffled moan as his tip kissed your sweet spot. Kaeya groaned again at the vibration of your voice. You felt Kaeya’s thumb press slightly against the center of your throat where he could feel himself thrusting in and out of you. You swallowed around him as he gave his last few thrusts before he was sent over the edge, cumming in spurts over your tongue. He let out a long moan that you wanted to keep on repeat forever.

You caught sight of Thoma eagerly awaiting his chance to feel your mouth around him. Kaeya pulled out slowly, stepping to the side (albeit a little bit grudgingly) to let Thoma have his turn. Thoma has already freed himself, precum leaking from the tip. He seemed a little nervous as he found himself finally aligned with your awaiting mouth. “Are you sure this is alright?” He asked, closely watching your face for signs of discomfort. His gentleness was refreshing after the way Kaeya and Childe so unceremoniously face-fucked you.

You giggled, kissing his tip causing his ears to flush red. “Mhm, of course. You’re so good for me~” His eyes went wide at your praise. You let your mouth hang open as an invitation for him to enter you, a high pitched whine escaping him almost immediately after sinking into you. He cupped your head gently, pulling out of you slowly before pushing back into you, truly appreciating the stimulation you were giving him.

Kaeya truly could never sit still with an opportunity so grand in front of him. His fingers found their way to toy with your clit, his cold fingers making you squirm under his touch. Childe, who was still on the couch, had gotten hard again and was pumping himself as he watch you slowly get your holes stuff full of cum. You moaned as Diluc’s dick hit your sweet spot again and again, Kaeya’s cold fingers causing your head to spin. You could feel your orgasm coming fast, and it felt like it was going to be an intense one. You arched your back off the table, whines becoming increasingly more frequent the more pressure built up. Diluc also seemed to be nearing his release, you could always tell by the way he moaned your name. A few more thrusts into you was all it took for you to come undone. You cried out, thighs quivering as you squirted all over Kaeya’s fingers and Diluc’s cock alike. Diluc followed a few seconds after, burying himself inside of you as he came hard, eyes intently watching the sight of you during and after your orgasm.

Thoma’s cock twitched as he watched you make a mess over Diluc’s cock, his breathy moans of your name getting louder and louder. He knew it wouldn’t take long for him to finish, not with the way your tongue traced his veins and your hand assisting him with whatever he couldn’t fit in your mouth. You felt the knot come undone and Thoma’s sweet cum flooded your mouth. He pulled out, gently wiping the spit from your face.

The room was filled with nothing but the sound of heavy breathing as everyone came down from their highs. Zhongli was even nice enough to grab your water from where Diluc had set them off to the side and offer you some as he dabbed away some of your sweat with a napkin. Diluc finally pulled his now softened member out of you, admiring the way your cum-filled hole leaked. He had to fight the urge to fuck every last drop back into you.

A knock resonated from the door, causing everyone in the room to freeze. “Um, sorry to interrupt,” the servers voice sounded meekly from outside the door, “you guys reservation time is up…” You cringed at the idea of having to walk back to your hotel room in this state, legs still wobbly and cum all over you.

“I supposed to ‘important announcement’ excuse won’t work now..” If you didn’t know any better, you’d say Zhongli sounded amused. “No need to fret, I’ll just pay them a generous tip to overlook this little.. endeavor.”

“You mean I’ll pay the tip.” Diluc cut in flatly. You all were lucky the company had the money to be avoiding scandals like this or else you’d all be done for. Maybe he could convince you to, uh, thank him for it later…

[formulinos]

I would like to preface this by saying that this has no basis in facts, as in I haven't personally talked to anyone that could confirm the stuff I'm about to say. I'd like to name this a conspiracy hypothesis instead of a theory, since I have no proof. I'll sprinkle some links here and there as I go about, but they are just basically temporal marks so you know I didn't pull this whole thing out of my ass. I am very much aware, however, that most of the time I'll sound like this:

I also am aware that I might seem biased in this, but give me a chance to explain who the real villain of the story is. Also feel free to just ignore it, again, this is not factually true as far as we know and I did have a schizophrenic episode in 2013 that led me to 6 months of antipsychotic treatment. It could be happening again! 

Anyway, here we go. I believe that the 2022 Formula 1 Championship declared its winners before it even began, that is, Max Verstappen and Red Bull Racing. NO WAIT COME BACK HEAR ME OUT.

Consider the situation before and after the 2021 Abu Dhabi Grand Prix. I think a recent quote from Stefano Domenicali actually resumes it well:

“The World Championship being decided on the last lap of the last race, last year in Abu Dhabi,” Domenicali told the Corriere della Sera when asked what his most satisfying moment was, “leaving aside the controversy.”

By the end of 2021, Formula 1 had become a culmination of what Liberty Media wanted for it: a full spectacle where racing was just the necessary background for something that gives much more money, that is, storytelling. The Lewis Hamilton v. Max Verstappen created a rivalry, which is EXCELLENT for marketing, as this article by Dr. Cody T. Havard and Dr. Vassilis Dalakas highlights:

The rivalry phenomenon in sport also infuences the way fans consume the sport. In particular, playing a rival team positively infuences fan likelihood to attend a live game (Havard, Shapiro et al., 2013) and the amount they are willing to pay for tickets (Sanford & Scott, 2016). Rivalry can infuence the way fans evaluate team branded merchandise (Kwak, Kwon, & Lim, 2015), team sponsors (Angell et al., 2016; Bee & Dalakas, 2013; Dalakas & Levin, 2005; Grohs, Reisinger, & Woisetschläger, 2015), league-wide cause-related marketing (Nichols, Cobbs, & Raska, 2016), fan behavior (Wann & Dolan, 1994; Wann & Greive, 2005; Wenger & Brown, 2014), and player performance (Wann et al., 2006). 

Rivalries means money, and at the peak of Hamilton v. Verstappen, F1 was making BANK. However, the fact that Domenecali had to say "leaving aside the controversy" means that the decisions taken on those fateful laps were impactful enough to create a significant divide on the consumers. This happened because from the moment the checkered flag was shown, it stopped being just Red Bull and Mercedes' business and it became the sports' business as a whole. Therefore, two things happened:

1) The spectacle that Liberty Media had created was crumbling down in front of them. 2) The legitimacy of FIA's actions were being put to question directly, since this was down to the actions of their highest representative in the racing aspect.

How can you move past this? In fact, many fans still haven't and might never will. But still, there are things you can do to try and mend things. The first was the Report. A half-assed mea culpa from the FIA that included a long evaluation of the events that transpired that day and the implementation of measures to keep it from happening again. Michael Masi was (rightfully, even though he was the scapegoat) shown the door and although it took them a long time to show a verdict, the release date right before the start of the 2022 season means this was the last of it for them and they were turning the page.

Still, an issue remains that still highlighted points 1 and 2, the question of Max's championship being retained. Surely, the FIA couldn't not admit any fault in the report or else the lack of self-criticism would doom them in the eyes of fans, but admitting too much fault meant that their decision to stick to Max's championship would be forever contested and so their actions from then on. For Liberty Media and the storytelling issue, it means that their conclusion of the Young Hotshot that defeated The Sport Giant never happened and instead The Sport Giant would just become Bigger. This can't do.

So far, I've discussed this from the FIA's and Liberty Media's POVS, but consider this from Red Bull's perspective. Christian Horner was on the record straight after Abu Dhabi defending Max's championship and saying that the championship as a whole was enough proof of his skills and the teamwork. But even more, he states that the Drivers' Championship is the most important out of the two given at the end of the season:

"The constructors' is where the money is," he said. "That is where the revenues that come into the sport are distributed, based on your performance in the championship. I think every employee within our team, and probably in most of the teams, is rewarded on where they are in the constructors' championship, as opposed to the drivers'. But the drivers' obviously has the popularity and it has the prestige. I don't think there's a single employee within our business that would have traded the first place in the constructors' for this drivers' championship."

If the drivers' championship has all the popularity and the prestige, then it also has the power to take those things away if its integrity is put into question. So, all that's left to do is convince people that this result would naturally take place. If many of Max's supporters said that "he would have won it anyway," then you best make sure that he does win it again, because once can happen by chance, but twice means that the level of talent and professionalism involved is too high and the results of 2021 were bound to happen. While there would still be skeptics, for a large majority of the doubtful fans, a bi-championship would be enough proof and the sport is considered legitimate again. 

This is the motivation, so, what's the plan? Well, you need Max to win the championship, but there can be no doubt about it. Leaving it for the last race means that it could get out of control and this wouldn't be enough to quench people's thirst. Max has to win by a landslide to be considered a dominant force that's inescapable, which also means that Red Bull should be considered at the top of their game. Therefore, if last year they could afford to lose the WCC, this year they have to take it as a way of reclaiming their power and their role in enabling Max to be the best he can be. 

Now, this is a sport. They can't rely just on Red Bull doing their best to make sure this goes smoothly, they also need the cooperation of others. Honestly, if they asked every single team to help them out, most of them would imo. Again, the events in Abu Dhabi didn't just impact RBR and Merc, they affected the sport as a whole and it is on everybody's interest to get past this slump. If the controversy only gets worse and fans' viewership and engagement goes down, it's over - it's not gonna happen from one day to another, surely, but it's not forgotten either. BUT, realistically, they don't need to talk to Haas or Williams or Alfa Romeo. They just need to ensure that the teams that could directly face RBR come out behind, and there are basically two that could truly do it: Mercedes and Ferrari.

With Mercedes, the approach taken was... do nothing. They didn't have to, since the "nerf the dominating team" initiative that FIA regularly does was already being implemented since 2019. The small technical regulations tweaks that were left for 2021 were already good enough to close the gap between Merc and Red Bull and allow for more competition, and the overall 2022 regulation haul did just as any reg change intends to: remove domination out of the equation. I'm not mad about this since well, it is their job to make sure there is a competition and you just need to reset things from time to time. Ferrari has been through this, McLaren has been through this, Red Bull has been through this, etc. For once, it's really just business. Sure, Mercedes shot themselves in the foot with their initial design, but they were set up for failure anyway. 

Now, Ferrari.

Ferrari had a few things going on for them. First, a solid duo of drivers, one of them being a usually very solid, reliable and stealth grid climber and the other literally nicknamed by the fans "Il Predestinato". Then, they managed to unfuck things up from 2020 to 2021 and get back to the top 3, orbiting just outside the two main forces of F1 at the moment. In this aspect, they also could afford to relax a bit on the 2021 championship and focus on the 2022 car in June, way before Mercedes and Red Bull due to their relative safe place in the championship - back in June, P3 seemed most likely, but even if it was a P4, the money prize made no difference to FERRARI and the extra wind tunnel time would even be a plus. 

This is all to say that they would inevitably come out with a banger car, there was no other way this could go. In the hybrid era, only two cars were major flops: the F14 T that managed to get one fucking podium in an entire season, but still landed 4th, so a good birth in relation to the field nevertheless and the SF1000 that was the consequence of its own actions. Other than that, Ferrari was regularly in the vice-leadership or Top 3, and you can bet they were coming to snatch wigs again.

Well, pre-season testing comes and Ferrari takes Barcelona in relation to Red Bull. Red Bull posts the fastest lap but they present reliability issues, while Ferrari does fine and dandy in experimentation. This is rectified by Bahrain, that shows in theory a better Red Bull car, with its hiccups fixed. However, it's noted that Ferrari are still behind, and less farther than one would think. 

So, we get three initial rounds with Ferrari working flawlessly and striking two double podiums and two wins. Charles emerges as the championship leader while Red Bull show they have the pace, but their reliability issues can't be ignored. But by round 4 RBR are back on their feet and Ferrari suffer from home race luck, making weird strategy calls. It's okay, you can understand it once.

One thing to note is the difference in tone adopted in regards to this year's early rivalry, During the first semester, a few headlines we've seen were:

"There’s not been a lot of politics and bullsh*t" - Red Bull and Ferrari moving ahead in 2022 F1 season with 'genuine respect,' says Christian Horner

Max Verstappen says he 'prefers' F1 rivalry with Charles Leclerc to battle with Lewis Hamilton

Marko: Ferrari rivalry ‘won’t escalate like Mercedes’

All of the time, it's highlighted that there is a rivalry in place, which is good for the sport, but that it won't get as toxic and bad as last year with Mercedes. The idea is to be less aggressive, in order to show that such behaviour is in the past and that F1 can be entertaining on and off track without needing to resort to fighting.

But, as I said before, we do need Max to win, and by a landslide. Yet, by Miami, Charles was still very much in the run recovering from his 6th in Imola with a second place and Carlos getting back on the podium after two retirements. The tides started shifting harshly in Spain, when Charles retired and Carlos struggled to 4th. In the same race, Charles loses the championship lead to Max. From then on, as Sky Sports point out, from Spain to Hungary Charles loses on 108 points due to team-related issues in comparison to 32 points from individual errors. In Belgium, more scenes as strategy demands Charles to try to go for the fastest lap and pit. He fails to get the lap and gets a penalty that pushes him one place down (6th). From the Dutch Grand Prix to Singapore, Charles has managed to recover his form and feature in the podium all three races, but it's now Max's championship to lose. To sum up, Ferrari who seemed majorly solid until the fifth round started flopping left and right out of the blue, seemingly making a point of losing the championship by sheer incompetence.

When faced with criticism, Mattia Binotto has repeatedly stated that there was no need for changes at his Ferrari staff. In fact, some of his most outlandish claims include that the Hungary Grand Prix win wasn't possible for them anyway, regardless of Charles' display that day. Curiously, his tone only changed after the Italian Grand Prix (RIP Ana Formulinos' dream of going to Monza, 2000-2022) when he finally admitted something needed to be done. A bit too late, considering that from the next race onwards, the title was Max's to win on a mathematical basis. 

So, here comes a question: what's in it for Ferrari, exactly? Honestly... I've no fucking clue. They were punished over an engine that fell in the "not legal but not illegal" limbo in 2020 by the same FIA which, in this scenario I'm hypothesising, would have cut some sort of deal with advantages for them in the upcoming seasons. This is for us to see in the future, as nothing is bound to happen for us in 2022. However, I think a factor that is important is that while Ferrari is the crown jewel of F1's teams, the records and titles mean nothing if the sport is dead and/or perceived as illegitimate. Therefore, the same way it is the other teams' interest to keep the show going, Ferrari might be the one to need it the most. They need each other. So, I could see Ferrari, Liberty Media and the FIA all in the same side for once anyway.

Now, an important addendum. In all of this, am I saying that everyone in Red Bull and in Ferrari are involved in this? Is Max Verstappen devilishly laughing as he wins and wins and is Charles binning it on purpose? Are the mechanics at Ferrari armed with hammers to destroy the chassis while no one's watching? NO OF COURSE NOT. You can tell that these drivers are real people that get frustrated with their losses and happy with their wins. You could tell how Max was starting to feel relieved after the reliability issues were gone, and how the light in Charles' eyes dimmed race after race. Same thing with the mechanics whenever there was a failure. In fact, I don't think that for this hypothesis to work everybody needs to be in on it, just the right people. One single strategist is enough for Ferrari to lose a whole race, while Red Bull just needs to make sure the car is running since Max is more than apt to win a race, no denying that.

Cool. Now, here is an interesting point: the budget cap controversy. While things were peaceful between Ferrari and Red Bull until then, things quickly went astray after the first reports of Red Bull possibly breaching the cost cap, with Binotto and Toto meeting up to gossip about it during the Singapore GP. The stance taken by Ferrari is that they mad. They really mad. I suppose that, in this scenario I'd be too, if I had been made to look like a fool bottling every race, even having to take it on the chin after a technical directive so these fools could win and still they're able to splurge on cash to save their season? That would have been bad enough, but the fact that if these extra expenses went undetected, this means they'd be free to do as they please for the 2023 championship... I have a feeling that this is not part of the deal.

Christian Horner went extra defensive, claiming indirectly that there was a snitch in the FIA responsible for the leak and, most importantly:

“One can only assume it’s not coincidental this is at a point where Max has his first strike at a World Championship,” he said.

Speaking later to Sky F1, Horner added: “Do you think that’s a coincidence? Or do you think there might be a little bit of a campaign to discredit what the team has done?

“It’s a little bit suspicious.”

Concerns about a discredited championship, AGAIN. As this report says, it's highly unlikely that the FIA consider harsh penalties as they will probably decree it as a minor breach. Can't go unpunished as again the FIA's decision skills will be put into questioning, but can't be declared a major breach since a harsher penalty might put Ferrari back in the running and we need that landslide, lads.

It's yet to be seen if Max takes it at Japan, which would be kinda curious since the 2021 Japanese Grand Prix was supposed to be about Honda's swan song from F1 and now a celebration of its strengthened ties to Red Bull. Either way, it won't be long now, and the championship will be long done by the last round.  

As an interesting afterthought, I think it's curious how little reporting there has been on the rift between the FIA and FOM/Liberty Media. The creative differences between the two has been significant as Liberty Media presents more changes in the racing format and increases the calendar, something that our current president isn't a fan of. Latest developments have been about the FIA publishing the calendar before FOM, something that's unheard of. In fact, the rift has been said to have gotten worse after... Abu Dhabi, since the FIA perceived it as an indirect result of Liberty Media's push for spectacles :) How lovely is the state of things in F1 right now. 

In conclusion, the result of nearly a year of observation of this championship led me to hypothesise that the result is being constructed to re-legitimise the sport and its organising bodies after the 2021 Abu Dhabi scandal. In this aspect, it's not Max Verstappen, Red Bull and even Scuderia Ferrari per se the direct villains of the story, but the FIA and Liberty Media who in their push to save themselves only get deeper and deeper in the chaos. While I can't prove for sure this is real (and false tbh), there are still further developments in 2022 and 2023 that can change things, so don't take it to heart. Cheers everybody, I'll go back to my cave!