#THIS MAKES THEIR DYNAMIC SO MUCH INTERESTING

[lisbethtylanhnem]

You know I had to reblog this in relation to my latest post about The Cruel Prince.

Jude is so bad at reading Cardan! And he's so bad at reading her too!

Which makes sense because they've both been hurt and project different personas as a way to protect themselves.

– The Queen of Nothing, Chapter 21

Cardan's armor is his cruelty: it's an image he projects to feel safe, because in Elfhame, never has he been valued as much as when he was cruel.

(Not because the folk of Elfhame value open displays of cruelty that much, but because Cardan was admitted back to the court after he impressed Nicasia with his cruelty. Without this, he's nothing but Balekin's victim.)

Because of her own insecurities and fears, Jude is bad at discerning his hidden feelings.

– The Wicked King, Chapter 29

As we can see here, Jude can't read Cardan in this situation. I'm guessing he feels anxious there (He's trying to make her revoke his pledge of 1 year by offering her marriage instead, all the while they're still playing cat and mouse, 'love-hate', relationship-wise. He wants that marriage for more than just freedom: also because he loves Jude, but he's afraid of telling her so. And he's afraid of Jude—even though she can't fathom it—because she's cunning and murderous from what he's seen.). He's anxious, so he projects his armor: his wickedness. Makes him feel powerful, in control of the situation.

Later, when they get closer and finally confide in each other, she learns what the smile is for (I am looking for the scene and not finding it though, if someone knows when that happens...) and Jude is later able to tell his smiles apart.

– The Queen of Nothing, Chapter 18

On the other hand, Jude's facade is one of strength. Power.

Jude is scared all the time in Faerie, and being raised as Madoc's daughter, she believes that her only way to be safe is to be feared. In this sense, she and Cardan are not that dissimilar.

As a human among fairies, she believes that, inherently, the folk see themselves as untouchable (not helped by Cardan's facade nor Valerian and Nicasia's behaviors). And she believes the same. Belittles herself.

When in reality, Jude is scary as fuck: rising to power without anyone knowing exactly how, killing fairies, dueling redcaps and winning and much more.

Cardan sees this powerful, confident, strong person, and that's who he believes she is. He doesn't know to discern Jude's fear underneath it, and is constantly taken aback when he does see it.

– The Queen of Nothing, Chapters 7&18

And really, it's those misunderstandings and then, them getting to finally understand each other and be comfortable enough to be themselves around the other that made their dynamic as interesting as it is.

Talk about slow burn, eh?

narrator who's terrible at social cues & describes every facial expression as "unreadable"

[ddarker-dreams]

Yandere Anaxa x Reader "Flower Garden"

Warnings: Yandere themes, unhealthy relationships, imbalanced power dynamics, spoilers for the Amphoreus story, some implied not SFW. Word count: 3.6k.

Answering all the yandere flower question prompts for the Prof <3

Amaryllis - Would this yandere ever bend their whims to better suit their darling’s needs, or is their word always law? 

Anaxa doesn’t leave much guesswork when it comes to his expectations. He gave them a fair amount of thought, the earlier iterations were actually stricter. As such, the final draft is, by his estimation, nearly flawless. He anticipated some resistance on your part, but that doesn’t mean he’ll be influenced by your ‘shortsighted moral objections.’ He expects you to adhere to his guidelines with little deviation. Of course, he’ll reassure that he isn’t heartless, he’ll judge infractions on a case-by-case basis. If you’re clever, you’ll realize you can get away with some misbehavior if you don’t run it by him first. It’s easier to defend your past actions than convince him to let you do as you please. Use this loophole sparingly; he’ll catch on should you exploit it often. 

Basil - Does the yandere want what they think is “best” for their darling, or do they prioritize their wishes above all else? 

Anaxa is multifaceted in this regard. As a professor, he believes he excels at seeing the wider picture, whereas your scope is limited. You might think he’s terrible and controlling, but it’s a matter of perspective. He will help you excel at any field of study you’re interested in. This is how he views the issue, at least. Anaxa considers it a form of equivalent exchange. In return for his full support, all you have to sacrifice are a few pesky personal freedoms. Academics necessitate these sacrifices regardless. Your aversion to his interference is a display of reactance. It’s understandable, if not a bit vexing. 

Bellflower - Is there anything that their darling could do/say that’d make the yandere’s feelings for them waver? Would they be able to bounce back, or would it permanently change the yandere? 

You’re welcome to try. Unfortunately for you, he’s already accounted for this possibility. Should you spew the most reprehensible vitriol, especially if it’s out of character, he’ll assume you’re trying to rile him up. Anaxa respects your dedication and may even offer suggestions for future reference (which has the unintended effect of making this form of resistance lose its appeal). It’s not that he’s emotionless. Rather, he can recontextualize what he’s hearing so it doesn’t pack a punch. Verbal exchanges are one thing, actions are another. If he ever discovered you were intimate with another just to hurt him… well. It wouldn’t make his dedication to you waver, you’d only succeed in earning his wrath. He’d become much harsher with the goal of ‘reeducating’ you. Far from pleasant. 

Carnation - Does this yandere consider what they’re doing morally “wrong”, and if so, how do they justify their actions to themselves? 

Anaxa and ethics are a notably blurred line. He’s confident that he isn’t subjecting you to anything you can’t handle, he understands you eerily well. He can recognize that what he’s doing would be considered ‘wrong’ by most, enough to try and hide his behavior. However, this isn’t because he feels guilty or regrets what he’s doing. It’d just be inconvenient if some do-gooder stuck their nose in his business. To him, ‘right’ and ‘wrong’ are restrictive concepts. They’re useful tools for holding society together, yes, but exceptions should be allowed if the results will be extraordinary. As his muse, he credits you in part for his greatest discoveries. You play a key role in motivating him to pursue his work. Should that not grant him an exemption?

Chestnut - Would this yandere care about their darling’s past romantic relationships? If not, then why is that? 

Raise this point to him and he’ll scoff, claiming of course not. (He’s being disingenuous). Anaxa wouldn’t be bothered in the traditional sense, it’s more that the dislikes that another held major influence over you. That’s his role! People aren’t molded by any one thing, it’s a combination of biopsychosocial elements. He aims to encompass all three as it relates to you. You are his pièce de résistance. He doesn’t want some other schmuck claiming credit for his effort, minor or not. … And, if he were to be completely honest, he is a little jealous. He’ll criticize everything about them, even the way they breathe and walk. 

Cypress - How does this yandere comfort their upset darling? 

Anaxa’s idea of comforting you is explaining — as many times as necessary — that you’re taking a reductionist view. He’ll discuss his reasoning for everything he does ad nauseam so there are no misconceptions. For him, he attributes discomfort to a lack of information. He’s also restless until he can fully comprehend the unknown. The cognitive aspect tracks for him, it’s the emotional that presents some complications. He could lie to make you feel better, but he values honesty. He’d rather be blunt and make you cry than coo empty promises in your ear. He isn’t sadistic, he doesn’t like making you upset, he just considers it a regrettable byproduct. He’ll mostly leave you alone until you calm down. 

Gardenia - Is the yandere most content watching their darling from afar, or do they feel the need to interact directly with them? Does it vacillate between the two? 

It’s about a 30/70 split. Anaxa recognizes that he’d never develop a nuanced view of you if he locked you up somewhere, mildly tempting as that idea is. Naturalistic observation has its merits. He studied you for months before entering (aka ruining) your life. This gave him a baseline of your behavior to work with. Admittedly, he could’ve gleaned more insight if this period had gone on longer, but he grew restless. He no longer wanted to be a mere bystander, he had to exert influence over you. Is it so inconceivable that he’d want to help mold such a promising mind? 

Honeysuckle - Would this yandere prefer to “tie-down” their darling through marriage or having/adopting kids? 

He’s thought about it. However, he’s a busy man, and kids are a huge time investment. He’s curious to know if it’d change you in any significant way, but not enough to actually go through with it. On a more petty note, he wouldn’t like competing with a kid for your attention. He is, for better or for worse, the most important person in your life. He intends to keep it that way. 

Hyacinth - How good is this yandere at getting their darling on their side by twisting their words/justifying their actions? If they’re not good at it, why is that? 

Anaxa could be better at it, but his warped principles stand in the way. He’s an excellent rhetorician, he’s used to championing unpopular positions. If he wanted to, he could get in your head and wreak havoc. It’s going to sound pretentious, but he believes this would be ‘too easy.’ He doesn’t want you to be a soulless puppet. He accepts your spite and defiance, viewing this resistance as a stimulating challenge. 

Hydrangea - How would this yandere react if their darling gave them affection? What is their internal thought process like? 

He’s suspicious immediately. You must be scheming if you’ve managed to overcome your obvious dislike of him. How he responds depends on how disruptive your plot would be. Anaxa doesn’t solely adhere to rationality; at the end of the day, he’s still a man who finds you attractive. Whatever you’re up to, if it involves seducing him, who is he to stop you? He’ll play along, acting none the wiser. There’s no denying that he’s sexually pent-up. Normally, he’s able to stop his mind from wandering, but he knows a good opportunity when he sees one. Now, if the affection isn’t sexual in nature, he’s actually at a bit of a loss. He’d get more flustered over a hug than if you were to start tugging at his belt. Even he isn’t sure why that is. 

Jasmine - How would this yandere use their status/money in their favor? 

Anaxa’s in a weird position, because he’s both ridiculed in academia yet begrudgingly respected to an extent. He’s the founder of his own school in the Grove and its Sage, a laudable title. Still, he doesn’t have enough prestige to puppeteer your life all over Amphoreus. The Grove of Epiphany is as far as his reach extends, and even then, he has enemies there, too. When it comes to keeping you in line, he has to get creative. This is made slightly easier if you’re pursuing anything in academics, whether it be an education or beyond. Most students hold him in high regard, but his fellow faculty members are split. Depending on your compliance, he can either aid or inhibit your aims. He’d rather not have to rely on anyone else though, it’d be a last-ditch effort. 

Lavender - Would this yandere’s darling be able to sense the impending danger, or is the yandere efficient at hiding their darker side? 

You’re going to be blindsided. Whether you’re a Nousporist from the beginning or not (if not, you will become one somewhere down the line), you’ve heard of the infamous Professor Anaxagoras. A brilliant mind, sharp tongue, and an eccentric who ridicules the values most hold dear. Most people try to limit their interactions with him, even if they hold him in high esteem. You’re no different. He’s just… a difficult person. For his part, he treats you like he does anyone else, if not sterner. No one could guess that you’re his favorite because he gives you such a hard time. Your friends will jokingly ask what you did to earn his distaste, not knowing it’s the opposite. 

Lily - What would ultimately give the yandere’s true intentions away? Does the yandere do it on purpose, or is it an accident? 

It’s going to be on his terms. You’re called into his office one day, where he informs you that you’ll be serving as his ‘personal assistant.’ He doesn’t ask if you accept this role, he assumes you’ll be honored enough by his acknowledgement to jump at the chance. Whatever your thoughts are, he’ll list all the requirements this position entails. The main takeaway of his lengthy monologue is that you’ll be spending a lot of time together. Your social life? Inconsequential. Your hobbies? He’s set aside space in his office, engage in them there. He has a thought-out answer for any issues you raise. This man won’t take no for an answer. 

Lime blossom - Does the yandere’s feelings for their darling fall more under “love” or lust? 

Defining how exactly he feels about you perplexes him. Love feels childish and insufficient. It lacks depth, failing to convey how utterly obsessed he is with you. Nonetheless, as a scholar with a voracious appetite for knowledge, he pursues a satisfactory answer. The conclusion he arrives at is a bit abstract. You are his ‘proof’ that the Titans are vapid placeholders, which humanity defaults to worshipping owing to a lack of imagination. Prophecies, cults, they’re all just easy ways to give one’s life meaning. No, in his view, meaning must be sought out, or it holds no significance. So to him, you’re quite literally the crux of his existence. 

Lotus - How does this yandere ultimately view their darling? As someone greater than them and in need or reverence, someone lower than them, or somewhere in between? 

Anaxa never really considers this question. If you asked and he had to answer, he’d eventually say, “an almost equal.” Now, that doesn’t sound so bad, but his definition of equal isn’t the same as most. He respects you and that’s so rare that it automatically elevates your position. Nevertheless, he believes he knows better than you and acts accordingly. You aren’t given much agency. Should you claim that this is belittling, he’d tell you that you’re welcome to think that way. If you expect him to follow this up with a “however,” you’ll be staring at him for a while. He doesn’t care to justify his thoughts on this because he finds it an inane question. 

Magnolia - Would there ever be any time that the yandere would reflect on their actions and wonder if they should stop/change their ways? Or do they always believe themselves to be in the right? 

He could get visited by the Ghost of Reason Past, Present, and Future; he’s still not changing a single thing. The only reflection he does is self-serving, not self-critical. He’ll wonder how he can keep you under his thumb better and improve over time. Anaxa is stubborn to a fault. When Cerces occupies his head, they’ll champion your cause. Not owing to any conviction over his wrongdoing, but because it makes for an interesting debate. In every cycle, until the very end, he believes he’s justified in his actions. Kaslana notes that Anaxa’s intensity only grew in fervor with each subsequent cycle. It’s remarkable in its own right. 

Mint - How do the people around the yandere view them? Are they none the wiser to what the yandere’s doing, complicit in some way, uncaring, etc? 

The only individual who knows everything is Kaslana, but he’s too busy with his whole bit to spare you much thought. Besides, he’s found that you’re a useful bargaining chip to receive the Coreflame of Reason. Basically a cheat code. Once the Chrysos Heirs enter the scene, Aglaea is roughly aware of your plight. Similar to Kaslana, Aglaea finds your unique sway over the Great Performer valuable. In return for some favors relating to him, she might help you out. Emphasis on might. Sweet Hyacine senses the tension in the air between you. She successfully deduces that you’re ‘lovers’ (?) but that there must be a reason why you’re keeping it a secret.

Much to Anaxa’s amusement, she’ll try playing couple’s counselor, encouraging you to be “open with your feelings” and “understanding” of the enigmatic professor. She takes it so seriously that her compassion is legitimately touching, despite the absurdity of the predicament you’ve found yourself in. While Anaxa’s chuckling over her gentle advice for you, she’s ready to give him a firm talking to. You’re just standing there nodding solemnly as she reminds the professor to be more “thoughtful in his conduct.” 

Myrtle - Is this yandere consistently the same during the time they spend with their darling, or does their attitude begin to change? If so, what prompts the change?

His attitude and behavior remain rather consistent. It’s difficult to notice, however, over time, he becomes warmer toward you. He tries to keep his fondness under control so that you don’t ‘exploit’ it. There’s nothing in particular that sparked the change, just your continued interactions. The most significant difference is his increased hesitance to make you cry going forward. He’s never liked it much to begin with, but as his warped affection proliferates, he dreads the possibility. He isn’t the best at comforting you, yet his approach grows less clinical. He’ll opt to remain silent by your side, rubbing your shoulder until the sobs subside. 

Narcissus - Does this yandere prefer to infiltrate their darling’s life, or do they prefer to take their darling away? 

The whole kidnapping route didn’t seem viable to him, so he opted for a more sustainable method. Kidnapping is crude, and while it might appease his urges in the short-term, too many complications can arise. Instead, he meticulously intertwines your lives. This organic approach sees you ensnared before you even realize what’s happening. In a way, you get used to his nonsense. It’s an adaptive measure, sure, but it serves his ends as well. The righteous fury you once directed at him is a difficult blaze to sustain. You hate to admit it, but going along with his whims eventually starts to feel routine. He makes a point of never pushing you too far. While testing your limits is intriguing, he knows when to rein himself in. 

Pansy - What was it that ultimately sparked their obsession? 

If he had to trace it back to a singular instance, it’d be overhearing you defend an original idea that wasn’t well-received by the student body. Your refusal to surrender in the face of public backlash caught his attention. From that point onward, he paid extra close attention to you. Your mannerisms, language, and viewpoints; everything coalesced into the perfect storm. Before he knew it, you were haunting his every waking thought. 

Peony - How shameless is this yandere? Do they care about their public image and or private image, and how does that affect how they treat their darling? 

Anaxa doesn’t care what others think about him. The only incentive he has for hiding the despotism he’s subjecting you to is so no one gets involved, not because he feels ashamed. When Cerces encountered his memories of you, they expected he’d get embarrassed once they mentioned it. Instead, composed as ever, Anaxa offered an explanation for every question or probe they could conjure up. Aglaea’s taunts are similarly ineffective. The Goldweaver has made allusions to your ‘unfortunate predicament’, hoping that would give her an opening to disorient the Great Performer, to no avail. Anaxa’s rebuttal would point out her hypocrisy, as she uses her golden threads to monitor all of Okhema. How is what he’s doing any different? Out of his concern for your well-being, he keeps a watchful eye on you, just as she does with the denizens of The Holy City. The man’s always got a way to defend himself. 

Primrose - In the yandere’s ideal world, what would their relationship with their darling be like? 

Anaxa has two answers for this. The first, less embarrassing answer is that he wants you to stop being so stubborn and accept his guiding hand. The second is a well hidden secret that even Cerces was pressed to discover — marriage. Voluntarily on your part, in a world where you’re just as madly in love as he is. His face gets warm just thinking about it. He’ll never admit this to you, but if you were to ever bring it up out of spite, you’d find he gets uncharacteristically quiet. This is one of the few sore subjects he clumsily guides you away from. He dislikes the hollowness in his chest he experiences upon realizing you’d never reciprocate his affection to that extent. He could achieve it, but it’d require coercion, which defeats the purpose. 

Rose - Does this yandere indulge much about themselves to their darling? Does it depend on if their darling were to ask? Or are they secretive and closed off? 

For someone who believes he’s owed access to every iota of information about you, he’s not very forthcoming himself. It’s like trying to move a stone statue. You can make a little progress, but it’s so frustrating and exhausting that future attempts are deterred. You’re better off arriving at your own conclusions. Anaxa’s not one to open up about his past, especially since he’s aware you could use the sensitive information to your advantage. However, a few details come to your attention over the years. You know he had an older sister, that his hometown no longer exists, and at some point, he sacrificed his eye in an alchemical ritual. According to the law of equivalent exchange, you’d have to offer a secret about yourself no one else knows for him to divulge more. 

Snapdragon - What is the darling’s day-to-day life like? Does it depend on how they’ve been acting, or is it always the same? 

There are a couple different routines you follow, depending on how occupied he is with lecturing or his research. You have a bit more wiggle room when he’s occupied with his teaching obligations. That’s when you’re free to pursue your own interests, scheme, or sometimes a combination of both. You’re not so fortunate if he’s immersed in research. You expected he’d want to sequester himself to his office, granting you days of freedom. Instead, you have to carry out your ‘personal assistant’ duties. How directly involved you are depends on how hazardous his undertakings will be. If it’s dangerous, he has you sit a safe distance away, scribbling down his observations as well as your own. He does wish you’d stop looking so excited when his clothes catch fire or after a strong explosion blows him back a few feet. He especially doesn’t appreciate your habit of poking him with a stick and inquiring, “You dead yet, Prof?” 

Tulip - Does the yandere want their darling’s forgiveness, or does it make no difference to them?

He doesn’t believe he’s done anything that requires your forgiveness. If anything, he’d find it mildly disconcerting. He’d be concerned that you hit your head or something. He’ll phrase it that bluntly too. While it may inconvenience him, Anaxa believes your anger is a sign of a healthy mind, so he prefers that over apathy or ‘forgiveness’. 

Wisteria - Is the yandere welcoming of any relationships (platonic/familial/etc) in their darling’s life, and what would it depend on if so? 

This is a situational dilemma. Anaxa would prefer you interact solely with him, but even he can recognize that’s unrealistic and potentially detrimental. So, you have a few ‘Anaxagoras-approved’ contacts. At the top of the list is Hyacinthia, owing to her infectious positivity. He’d rather not mix you with his students, but he wouldn’t be that bothered if you befriended Castorice, whom he considers harmless enough. Phainon of Aedes Elysiae is off-limits, however. Anaxa doesn’t appreciate how familiar he acts with you. There was a time Phainon put a hand on your shoulder, only for Anaxa to deduct enough credits for the poor guy to be on the precipice of failing. Your later defense of Phainon did not help his case. 

[jynxedshapeshifter]

Tbh I genuinely get confused when I see people claim Klapollo is one-sided and Apollo doesn't show interest in Klavier. Because Apollo DOES show interest in Klavier and finds him a little annoying at worst. Canonically:

Apollo thinks Klavier is cool and is jealous of this

Apollo thinks Klavier’s attractive, and this is outwardly obvious enough for both Trucy and Athena to tease him about it

Apollo doesn't like seeing Klavier in any kind of pain: "Prosecutor Gavin looks like he's in physical pain! That darkness... I have to pull that darkness out of him...". Even if we look at before that line, Apollo is worried about Klavier throughout Turnabout Succession, which isn't something I'd expect to the degree we get it if Apollo didn’t at the very least care about Klavier.

Apollo indicates he feels bad about the Gavinners breaking up, despite not liking Klavier’s music. He didn't have to tell Klavier that the Gavinners breakup was "a shame, really" but he did anyway.

So it is factually wrong to say Klapollo is canonically one-sided on Klavier’s end. I've played AA4 like three or four times now and whatever is going on between Klavier and Apollo feels mutual to me. It doesn't feel like Apollo likes Klavier but Klavier doesn't like him back or vice versa. It very much feels like mutual attraction. Apollo's just super tsundere about it.

Also, Daryan acts like Klavier’s jealous ex around Apollo. At the absolute bare minimum, Daryan has an extremely unhealthy obsession with Klavier, but his interactions with Klavier in Turnabout Serenade make it feel like he's Klav's bitter ex. Whatever Daryan and Klavier had going on was absolutely homoerotic at the very least, and that being their dynamic while Daryan seems jealous of Klavier’s relationship with Apollo says SO much.

Anyway, I think people should stop acting like Klapollo is unrequited on either end because I really don't think it is, there's so much evidence to the contrary

[thesylenttreatment01]

Sylus As a Partner? Best Shit Ever

I personally, cannot get enough of Sylus as a partner I think. Like, there is so much there that you wouldn't even think about.

For instance? His need to be prepared

Sy always seems to know what is needed, when its needed and how. In the "Captivating Moment path", when you go to take a shower, after working out? Right when your starting to think about how you are gonna need clean cloths?

Boom. clean clothes.

But its not just that, its a lot of little things. He just seems to know and anticipate your next move before you even realize it. Frankly, its irritating to you sometimes because it means that you can almost never surprise him (he assures you that your surprise him daily, but its said with that smirk that makes you wanna both kiss and punch him, so take that as you will).

When you ask him about it, he always tells you that is his job, when there are people constantly trying to double-cross, kill you, or screw you over you have to be prepared. and honestly, that makes sense to some extent.

But what he doesn't tell you or tries to hide is how much he just wants to makes your relationship the best he can for you. See, Sylus didn't have a lot of romantic relationships before this. If any at all. It just seemed kind of frivolous, especially when he remembers everything from a previous life. He knew it wasn't but it kinda would feel like....cheating? Regardless, he had a business to run and didn't let himself entertain that idea until you showed up.

Now, now this relationship business was his business. He knew that he couldn't exactly use explosives and guns to win this battle (although you two probably wouldn't be opposed to trying) so he would have to prepare in everyway he could.

the book Luke and Kieran give MC "Humanity and Conquer" didnt just come from no where you know.

I could see Sylus approaching relationships from different angles, trying to figure out how to keep a healthy dynamic. not because he is particularly interested in the psychology or history of love or relationships.

But because for the first time in his life, he feels something other than anger, frustration, and apathy. He feels so many emotions.

He feels passion, he feels lust, he feels warmth, he feels hurt, he feels sad, he just... feels. and frankly that could be more scary than any business deal gone wrong.

At least in a business deal, he knows how he will respond.

So he prepares, he knows that he's got his own problems, but he tries to research around them. To have a plan. That way, when the time comes and you need him. He will never leave you feeling lost.

Take another example. You are his partner.

I like the idea that when Sylus refers to you, especially in the company of others. He without fail calls you his partner. At first, its a little irritating. You might have been hoping that he would use something cuter, like wifey or something like that. Partner made it sound like y'all were showing up to the same shady arms deal (which you would sometimes, but that was besides the point...its about the vibes)

But see, for Sylus, partner is the only true way to describe you. Because to him, you were his equal. He was used to being feared, people calling him boss and sir and anything that might signal respect. But you? You called him Sylus, Sy, Lil S, crow boy, and literally any name you could think of that would send someone in the N109 zone into an early grave.

No matter what you did, he is on your team and is willing to support you. Sure he will always be there to protect you. He loves you, he doesn't want you to get hurt. But he also knows you. He knows your soul (hell your literal souls were CONNECTED) so when you go out on a mission, when you get into a scrap? He lets you take care of your business, maybe providing you an upgraded weapon or two because seeing you with a new weapon was maybe the hottest thing Sylus could think of sometimes. But he never dismissed you, never made you feel that you couldn't handle yourself (can anyone else see the scene in the lab/ experiment place where MC is protesting to resonating and he's like "relax, you can handle it"? thats the vibe)

He cuddles you, he holds you and he takes care of you because he loves you, not because he needs to, like your some kind of extra errand on his to-do list, but because as your partner he knows that he's the one that gets to do those things.

Neither of you operate from a place of imposition or fear when doing things for one another. Your lives are SO different. In fact, if you decided to neither or you had to see each other again. You choose to be in each others lives.

That choice? The ability to respect one another enough and work along side each other? That is what it means to be a partner to Sylus. THAT is why you are his partner.

And one of my personal favorite takes? Your mundane is his dream.

Look, it is no secret to anyone how rowdy and chaotic the N109 zone is. It comes withe territory. And Sylus? he runs and works with it well.

But when chaos and volatility is your life, you get tired. You just need everything to stop, just for a second to catch your breath.

Look at Sylus as a person. His pass times, what do you notice?

He likes playing an instrument (organ), he likes to fish, he likes to game, he likes to read, and he likes to sing.

Taken individually, these activates don't mean a whole lot. But when put together, you see a pattern where he just wants a chance to step back from the chaos and enjoy a chance for rest. these activities have a goal, they have a determined role and rules to follow, or they simply just keep the person present in the moment. He lives for the quietness of everyday activities.

Thats why he likes to take you to the movies, why he enjoys shopping with you, walking around festivals and yes, making event favors with you.

Because its a break from the chaos of being the leader.

He gets to just enjoy spending time with the person he loves. So, you know those little things that are either irritating, or are tasks you don't think twice about? Sylus will gladly do them either with you for for you.

He will tie your shoe.

He will wash the dishes with you.

Tired and don't want to comb your hair when you get out of the shower? Don't worry Sweetie, he's got this.

Because, for him, this is a different world that he hasn't had the chance to live yet. This is a love and a world that you made him apart of, so he wants to enjoy each little part of it. So every time you feel guilty for that small task you ask him to do, he just reminds you.

This is his favorite thing to do. Please don't rob him of the chance to live in your world for a while.

Anyways, I have so many more, but I am currently mid rant about the Phianon trailer with my friend in Seoul we are both crying about our lack of tickets and losing a 50/50.

[tpwrtrmnky]

"Online freelance creatives have bourgeoisie class interests" is an easy way to seem very clever and principled to people who don't understand online freelance work and class analysis.

It's a classic "hey this group where most of its members don't make all that much money are secretly petit bourgeoisie, because it's defined by your relation to the means of production rather than your income" argument, except you have to sneak in an underlying assumption that creatives online have meaningful ownership of their means of production.

Do they?

Most creatives online own some consumer goods they use to make their products. What they have no ownership over however is the means to distribute their creations to an audience, nor do they have any control over how the platforms hosting their work compensate them for the traffic they bring.

It's a sleight of hand where you define "the means of production" so that it erases the real power dynamic at play. A creative on the internet could make millions off youtube one day, then have their entire income disappear because youtube changed their priorities.

That is not ownership, even though the youtuber still owns their camera, in the same way that you wouldn't say miners were petit bourgeoisie just because the mine they worked at asked them to buy and maintain their own pickaxes!

[avifaunaa]

Feverish Dreams [ Brushed Away ] [ w.m. + n.r. ] [ blurb ]

Authors Note: This is a small bulrblette I wanted to write since I’m super invested in this universe now. This is set sometime into the series but I haven’t really set up where, other than that R has an established relationship with Wanda and Natasha that goes somewhat beyond what we’ve so far seen them agree to in Part One. It’s just meant to be a cutesy little thing anyway. Enjoy.

Update: so like. this turned out to have dug deeper into Natasha’s psyche than I had initially planned. it doesn’t require any warnings, but she’s very centric here and this shows a lot of what her dynamic is with you so have fun with that lmfao.

MASTERLIST

More From the AICDILY-Universe: PART ONE | PART TWO | PART THREE | PART FOUR

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Fem!Reader x Natasha Romanoff

Summary: You fail to answer Natasha and Wanda’s phone calls and texts the entire day, making them wonder if this is an act of attitude that you’re trying to set up for a scene. Natasha comes home with the mean side of herself she knows you enjoy, but finds that you’re not up for games after all.

Content Warnings: Sick!Reader so, fevers, coughing, congestion, etc etc. General under the weather ickiness, miscommunication, Natasha centric, hints of an attempt at mean!daddy Natasha that soon becomes very soft!daddy Natasha, soft!mommy Wanda, caretaking, so much fluff, overall just fucking soft

Word Count: TBA

It started off early — just as you kissed the soft, lightly scented and pink cheeks of Wanda as she was setting to head off this morning.

Natasha was already gone, having woken you with sweet kisses and murmured how much she hated to go. She didn’t really try to keep you awake, because you had drifted back off not long after.

Now Wanda wanted to get to the office earlier than she usually went in; paperwork had to be done and she would prefer to allow America some days where she could come in at a decent time instead of early.

This meant that Wanda would be making the drive even earlier in order to get there at the time she wanted to.

You pulled back and the scent that you associated with Wanda, with structure, with Mommy . . . This morning it burned in your nostrils and scored your throat like a warning.

The irritation to your lingered even as you managed to clear your throat, the threat of a cough stalking at the base of your chest.

You did your best to ignore it until you could fetch your tea from the stovetop — currently boiling, of course.

Wanda nearly lost her mind when she first saw what kind of tea [ from the grocery store down the street from your old apartment, a large brand that you knew wasn’t the greatest ] you partook in and introduced you to tea from her home country.

You didn’t realize she had come back into your space until soft, warm lips pressed against your forehead and remained there for a few seconds. When the businesswoman pulls back and runs a hand through your hair, she peers down at you with a gentle smile.

“Your schedule on the app is blank today,” she commented, tone curious but not firm in the sense you usually knew Wanda would have been if she suspected something was amiss, “Don’t you usually have clinic shifts on Thursdays?”

“I started cutting down my hours now that I’ve met all my requirements and that this clinic wants to keep me on permanently,” you admitted to her, blinking. “I thought I told you? I’m sorry. Um — my NAVLE exam is coming up and now that I have a secure position I want to mostly study.”

“You told me the clinic was interested in keeping you after you got your license,” Wanda replied, still stroking your hair. You leaned into the touch and it soothed the weird ache in your entire upper body just for a few moments. “So it’s a study day. Remember to take breaks, baby.”

“I will.”

“You will . . .?”

“I will, Mommy,” you correct, eyes snapping open and seeing that she was smirking at you, eyes sparkling in a mischievous manner.

“Good girl.” She gave you one more kiss, on the lips this time, but then she did really have to go. You saw her out the door and when she was pulling out from the large driveway, you exhaled a shaky, shuddering breath.

Only the whistling of the kettle on the stovetop got your focus back onto what you had been doing before Wanda had walked down the stairs.

Seymour had days. Days of wanting to just go out in the gigantic backyard and lay in the sun, sprawled out while you used the patio furniture to supervise and study at the same time.

Today . . . Today was not one of those days.

Today was his chosen day of chaos and satanic-drawn stubbornness.

He did not come to the back door where you waited with one of your heavily marked textbooks in your arm, foot holding the beautiful door open.

He almost glared at you from his spot near the living room archway, that particular archway opening to the hallway that directly opened toward the grand entryway and front door.

“Please,” you pled to the canine, head craning backwards in rising realization. “Seymour come on, man.”

A snuffle and oddly sounding grunt — a protest and a demand all in one. You lifted your head and saw him staring hard at you, unblinking, waiting.

You would not let him win. You were tired, your body was hurting, you felt like —

Seymour won.

You must have been a sight — hair thrown up tragically, still in your joggers and Natasha’s STARK INDUSTRIES hoodie, being dragged along by the happiest French bulldog alive right now.

He stopped at every landmark he possibly could — “we’ve seen this gnome five times this week, buddy” — and made sure to let Wanda and Natasha’s neighbors know that he was awake and freed from the confines of the house.

He pranced on the leash as you walked him on the trails behind the houses once the sidewalk on the Main Street ended, then returned to the sidewalk and walked him home.

Your luck wasn’t any better when he saw the end of the driveway come into view because his ass immediately parked under an oak tree five feet from the property.

“Dude,” you said, tone cracking as you stared at his bulging tummy as his back legs sprawled out under him. He was in the comfy position, ready to stay put in rebellion to your decision making. “Seymour, please.”

You ended up scooping the dog into your arms and carrying him up the driveway — your body wasn’t going to be able to handle playing his games today and this was your only option other than leaving him out there.

Your lungs burned by the time you dropped him on the front porch and leaned your forehead against the cool glass, trying to catch your breath.

Your energy levels today were shot, along with your well-regarded patience and steadiness. You saw it clearly even if Wanda didn’t this morning. You were feeling poorly and you had to get control over it before it got worse.

When you got sick, you got sick hard.

Your immune system wasn’t always the strongest and even under Wanda and Natasha’s [ mostly Wanda’s ] cooking and nutritional habits that started extending to you, your tendency to catch ailments from other people was unfortunately still a hard punch to the face.

Seymour huffed, leaning against your calf and snorting as though he had made the trek himself up the drive. It irritated and endeared you all in one — but the irritation was fleeting and you weren’t used to it with him.

You needed a nap.

You unclipped Seymour’s leash once you kicked the door closed behind you and he waddled off in the direction of the kitchen, likely to gobble some water up to drool over onto you later.

Fine, whatever. You’re welcome.

You forget about your half-finished mug of tea and the soapy kettle in the sink, going straight to the stairs and making the climb that lead to bedroom you’d only recently started sharing with Wanda and Natasha.

You slip under the cool sheets, pull them up, and nothing else comes but sleep.

Natasha Romanoff has been described, over the years, in so many unique ways with so many words that she’s lost track after a while.

Sometimes they were compliments that had a tinge of fear behind them, others were insults wrapped in pretty wrapping paper — either way Natasha was an expert at reading between lines and looking into dark corners. None of it was a match for her impenetrable mask, the face she wore anytime she left the privacy of her home.

Nothing got past her defenses — except for Wanda and, more recently, you. Though you weren’t even under the impression you had that power to her knowledge.

“Moya lyubov,” Wanda answered, the lilt of her accent leaking through the car’s Bluetooth speaker. “You never call at two in the afternoon.”

“Jesus,” Natasha says, slowing to a stop at a red light, “I can’t even call my wife anymore.”

Wanda laughed. “So sensitive. I’m sorry, it is just unusual to see you call and not text this early in the day. I love hearing your voice, though.”

Natasha rolled her eyes knowing Wanda wouldn’t be able to see it; had she been there to do so, Natasha wouldn’t have even let the thought of rolling her eyes cross her mind. You’d ended up over Wanda’s lap many times over such a small but infuriating action and Natasha has seen enough of her wife’s hard, unrelenting stares and felt the prods of her sharp tongue to the point that she knew better.

“Are you okay?” Wanda asked when silence prevailed.

“Our Solnyshko isn’t answering my messages,” Natasha says as she releases pressure off the break the second the light turns from red to green. The drive home was decent considering she wasn’t leaving at rush hour; Tony had even given her a look of shock when she announced she was taking the rest of the day to herself.

“Hmm, I noticed that as well,” Wanda replied, w neutral. Natasha knew better, though. Wanda was either very concerned or very frustrated at your lack of communication today.

They didn’t expect you to text them every five minutes or even every hour — even they knew that would be somewhat ridiculous. But they always required at least one or two updates on how you’re doing throughout the day if they’re not with you — what you’ve gotten done, what you’re doing, if you’ve eaten. It was apart of the dynamic that Wanda relished the most in, the constant care she was able to put into you through those little things.

Natasha had long since stopped worrying that it was too controlling — you had set your limits to how much hovering they’d be allowed outside of the house and so far they’d kept a very strict respect to those boundaries.

This was the first time you hadn’t answered them at all, even if it was just a thumbs up emoji when you were busier.

Natasha was split between two parts of herself that had the tendency, most annoyingly, to appear when it came to you and the way you interacted with her.

One half of her — Natasha Romanoff, beloved reality TV show watcher and despiser of dramas even though she sat through them with you — was concerned by your breaking of routine.

Abnormality outside of your profession did not seek you out — it avoided you and you avoided it likewise.

“Am I talking to Natasha or Daddy, right now, I wonder?” Wanda asked through the speaker. Her tone didn’t bother to hide the amusement that dominated her tone. Natasha could imagine the grin on her face and it enraged her more.

“Yes,” Natasha answered petulantly.

A soft chuckle reverberated through the vehicle.

Natasha gripped the steering wheel in one hand and stepped on the gas a little harder, free hand reaching up to rub at the side of her face.

But the Daddy side of Natasha was less inclined to think anything was wrong — rather, Daddy was in the process of coming to the conclusion that you may be doing this on purpose.

“Do I go in guns blazing, Wands?”

“I mean, you could, but maybe you could also approach her and see if it’s purposeful?” Wanda offered back. “You could do it via Daddy so that if it is a setup then you can just easily transition into the scene.”

“I’m so glad I married the smartest woman ever.”

Wanda snorted. “Your GPA is higher than mine.”

“By two numbers, but that doesn’t matter. I got a smart wife, you got an older woman.”

“Like, seven years. Maximum.”

“You’re ruining my fun,” Natasha muttered as the trees became more and the highway filtered into less traffic, and the roads one-way.

“I love you. Let me know what our girl’s getting up to,” Wanda demanded.

“Yes, Mommy,” the blonde and red haired woman purred as she pressed the red button on the screen, ending the call.

The house was quiet. So quiet that not even Seymour came to greet her when she got home and loudly dropped the keys into the bowl next to the door in the large mudroom attached to the garage.

She was slipping off her shoes and glanced towards the open door that stepped up into the rest of the house; but still Natasha was greeted with no bright smile and the panting of her beloved dog following after you.

Usually the sound of either herself or Wanda closing the door sent both the dog and you down the stairs or from whatever room you were habituating, and if that didn’t then the keys hitting the decorative porcelain bowl that Eleanor Bishop gifted them did.

She trudged her way up the small steps into the hallway and checked the kitchen first, considering it was closest. But that was barebones empty with no signs of recent life.

Natasha set her stuff on the kitchen counter, eyes scanning Seymour’s untouched food.

The woman frowned and continued her inspection of the surroundings and leaned over the counter, noting that the teapot was left soaking in the sink instead of drying on the rack like she usually found it after use.

She checked the back deck [ empty ], and peered down the railing to see if you were by the pool despite the summer starting to break and give way to a chilly New York fall more and more as the days passed. You weren’t there either.

Natasha’s conflicting emotions only rattled in her chest more severely as she unbuttoned the cuff-links to her dress jacket, heading back inside the house and worrying her bottom lip between her teeth.

“Solnyshko?” Natasha called out as she trekked through the rest of the house and started toward the stairs.

Nothing — she knew you had to be home. Your recently purchased car was in the garage. Unless Kate and Yelena or Ava had come and snagged you and you hadn’t told your dominants.

Natasha stopped at the bottom of the grand staircase and undid her heels, sliding her feet out of the shoes and dangling them from her hands.

She debated her options in that moment she took to let the relieving ache ebb from her ankles; slide into the persona she almost never wore as much as Wanda chose to use her own and be Mommy.

Natasha didn’t hide that she was connected to you in different ways than Wanda was with you. She knew you loved Daddy, but differently than she loved Mommy. You loved Natasha and Wanda in deeply puzzling ways that were unique to themselves and you that never made any of you feel like the relationship was suffering.

So the matter of who to be troubled her greatly as she toed the bottom step and gazed upwards. Daddy or Nat?

Wanda did offer sound advice: be ready as Daddy but don’t get too lost in the headspace just in case it wasn’t what you were planning.

She tapped her fingers against the handcrafted bannister before making her way up the stairs.

You awoke uncomfortably hot, clothes sticking like a too-loose second skin to your body.

You felt so hot but the shakes that wracked your body when you slowly regained consciousness had you burrowing deeper into the cocoon of body heat you had created around yourself.

Your phone was abandoned on the side table and if you had it in you to try and reach for it, you’d check the time. But your brain was mush and your eyes burned so you closed them again and shivered.

The next time you were awoken — you hadn’t fully comprehended you’d fallen back to sleep — it was to a cold hand sliding along your forehead and chilling the heat that had gathered there.

The husky voice was muffled but you knew it was Natasha. Daddy. You’d be able to know her by voice alone after months [ almost a year ] of getting to know her, letting the octaves seep into your bones and curl into your being.

“Daddy,” you murmured, eyes opening very slowly.

She was halfway undressed; shirt unbuttoned and untucked from the ironed dress pants. Her cuff links hung loosely from her wrists after having been abandoned after only being undone slightly.

Her hair was in soft waves down her shoulders and you wished you could bury your face in it. You imagined doing just that and nearly dozed back out.

Soft, cold fingers stroked along your forehead and startling you awake again. Natasha was now sitting near your hip on the edge of the bed, phone to her ear as her eyes wandered over you with undisguised concern.

“. . . Check her temperature. Yeah — yeah don’t rush, Wanda. I can handle her until you get home. I promise. Drive safe please. I love you too.”

You hummed and closed your eyes once more, but the shakes brought on by Natasha’s touching of your sensitive skin kept you from dozing off into sleep like you desired.

“How long have you been like this?”

“Uhh. Time?” you roll your head and look at Natasha blearily. Your lips were dry and you tried to wet them with your lips, but even your mouth was dry.

“Two in the afternoon,” she told you, hand moving to peel back the covers, “You didn’t answer any of my messages, or Wanda’s. Now I know why.”

A rush of realization crashed through you. “M’sorry . . . Didn’t do it on purpose. Not ignoring you or Mommy.”

“We know,” Natasha soothed, starting to run a hand up and down your burning hot arms as she leaned over you to help you into a sitting position. “We know that now. Daddy’s not mad.”

“Mommy?”

“Very worried,” the red-and-blonde haired woman promised, a small twitch threatening to upturn her lips. You would have tried to get it to break the facade if you didn’t feel like you were dying. “But not upset with you.”

You dropped your head backward against the headboard after your body was pushed into an upright position. The sheets, disturbed with your movements, shifted near the end of the bed until Seymour poked his head out next to you and stared.

“Ah,” Natasha said, “there you are. You’ve been taking care of our little one have you?”

Seymour shook himself out and stretched, toes expanding and a grunt being his only response to Natasha. Then he climbed over your sore and fevered body and jumped down from the bed, tottering out of the room.

“Best bedside service,” you slurred, eyes squinting, “but my insurance can’t afford him.”

“I pay for your insurance.”

“You can’t afford him either, Daddy.”

Natasha didn’t argue. “You’re probably right, baby.”

Natasha let you rest for a few minutes as she ran a hand through your damp hair, but it didn’t last.

She stood up and told you to stay while she collected some things from the master bathroom only a few feet away.

“Hurry up, got places to be,” you called weakly after only a few seconds. Truthfully you just wanted to go back to sleep for days like you did after exam seasons.

“You’re sick right now but Daddy can still spank that ass when you’re better, Solnyshko, so keep it up,” Natasha warned from the bathroom. Despite that warning, there was no bite to the words she spoke.

She came back out with arms full of various items, but the one that stuck out most was your water bottle you’d left forgotten earlier that morning after waking up.

“It still has ice in it,” she commented, eyebrow arching when she followed your eyes. “Which tells me you didn’t drink. Because you eat the ice once finish your water. Plus the bottle’s still full.”

“Detective Daddy over here,” you murmur under your breath but take the bottle when she offers it.

Natasha gives you a look and you wisely quiet down, taking sips from the still cold bottle and relishing in the way it soothed your sore throat.

It still didn’t put a damper on your intense shaking.

Your dominant was watching you with that same gaze she always does when she’s searching for something you’re not giving her immediately — then puts down some Nyquil and a thermometer on the side table, but kept the cold compress. “Can you do me a favor, baby?”

You blinked tiredly at her, still sipping at your water. You were thirsty and hadn’t realized it until Natasha had produced water for you.

“Here, under your tongue please?” She hands you the thermometer and you replace the water bottle with the metal tip of the object. You rubbed at your sore temples while you waited.

It kept going up and up — until finally — it beeped loudly and the screen turned bright red. You slipped it from under your tongue and winced.

“How bad?” Natasha asked cautiously, opening her hand to take the thermometer.

“102.3,” you bemoaned, slumping backwards. “Not surprised. I feel like I have that high of a fever.”

Natasha set it aside and ran her gaze over you again, before ripping the blankets clean off of you. “Up, please.”

“Nat,” you murmured, body curling in on itself — tighter, body shaking. “I’m cold.”

“You’re hotter than you’re cold,” she said firmly. This was followed by her leaning down and scooping you into her arms, ignoring the heat radiating off of you in waves like a space heater, and hoisting you up so she could get you to the bathroom. “You need a lukewarm bath at least, babygirl.”

You buried your face into her neck as the lights flickered back on. “Medicine?”

Natasha sat you down slowly, lowering you until you were situated on top of the toilet seat and said, “I’ll be right back with it. Stay here.”

“Oh, I’m so going to run a marathon in the seconds you’re gone.”

Natasha sighed loudly — on purpose, as for you to hear — and returned with the pills and water. She handed them over and hovered until she saw you swallow them with your water.

Then she turned to the large in floor tub, beginning to fiddle with the various shampoos and soaps.

“I don’t need to wash my hair today.”

“I’m not looking for your shampoo.”

You began to start further questioning her, the way she seemed locked in on this new mission of retrieving a particular product [ like a hound on a scent ], when the wails of Seymour started ripping through the silence that filled the house.

It pulled Nat away from her search and she stood up. But you drifted your tired eyes to her face and noticed she didn’t look confused; not in the slightest.

She relaxed into herself noticeably when the putter of small feet and confident steps turned the corner and in came Wanda, still looking as sharp as when you saw her off that morning.

Natasha leaned down to kiss your hot forehead and murmured, “Mommy’s home.”

Natasha had found what she was hunting down. It had been trapped behind tampons and pads in the cabinet closest to the toilet, “when it should have been in the cabinet with the bath products, Natasha,” Wanda scolded as she stroked your hair while you leaned into her.

So you pressed your head into the side of her flank as you were waiting for Natasha to fill the tub, the flowery scent of petals and bathbombs overwhelming your senses but clearing your congestion alongside the steam.

“My poor baby,” Wanda murmured, rings catching strands of your hair as she stroked. They didn’t snag and you didn’t really mind it. It felt like she was brushing your hair. “No wonder you were so quiet this morning, hm?”

“S’fine. Dunno what happened,” you replied into her jacket, nuzzling closer for comfort. “Took Seymour on a walk.”

“Did you, now.” It wasn’t worded like a question, and the stroking paused. “In this condition?”

“He was . . .” You sifted through the ashes of your destroyed brain for the proper words, and you hated how much mental energy it required to snag it. “He was persistent, didn’t want to do patio time.”

“Mm, so needy he is.” The scratching continued again, and you melted into it.

You don’t know how you ended up naked and pressed against Wanda’s chest in the bath, her fingertips light against your over sensitive skin in an attempt to wash the grime and sick away.

You didn’t know when Natasha had changed the sheets or when she had returned with sleep shorts and a tank top, helping you in both before scooping you up like she did before and carrying you silently to the freshly made bed.

You don’t know when your fever broke — but you remember flashes of being awoken to take medicine and drink water and sip broth that had a flavor only Wanda could’ve been attributed to. The taste of her home.

You could still put together fractured remnants of their voices; reading to you between delirium filled wakefulness, scratching your back, and you do remember the sweat when your fever broke that was followed by a chilled damp washcloth.

You woke up with your wits early after your fever broke and this body of yours still felt that ache bone deep.

But as you turned over and found Wanda on one side and Natasha on the other you knew that you would never have to experience that pain alone as long as they were there with you.

“It’s a blurb!” I screamed as I’m dragged to the padded rooms.

[letters-from-himring-hill]

Okay, maybe she will notice. XD She is planning a pretty massive change to the world, so I suppose any resulting cultural changes will be noticeable even to her. I'm sure it will, but hey, so does debugging code, and Morwen knows as well as anyone that trying to fix what you don't understand is a recipe for breaking it worse.

How Machiavellian of him...of course, that doesn't necessarily make the affection fake. I dunno, I think the disaster would be entertaining. XD Morwen would keep the two of them from doing anything really amoral where she could see it. I think they'd make a very interesting brains/man of action/moral compass trio, with almost a Kirk-Spock-McCoy dynamic. Except much more willing to break things to save the world. Morwen could temper that impulse but probably not eliminate it entirely.

Me handing out stickers to my favourite characters like

[beevean]

Thinking about Tenna and Kris… Perhaps an unpopular opinion, but I actually LOVE their relationship when Tenna is properly portrayed as the manipulative, cruel, and terrifying TV host he can be. Yes he’s pathetic and tragic, but he still contains The Horrors and I love it so much. A kid and their morally dubious uncle figure is amazing, especially with the themes of nostalgia, escapism, and a desire to avoid the future that their whole dynamic represents.

I honestly love the fact that Tenna is willing to pressure and hurt Kris to make them love him again. To want to stay with him. It’s so interesting! It is fucked up, certainly, and that’s why it’s so fascinating. Tenna doesn’t JUST adore and love Kris with his whole heart, doesn’t just want them to be happy and smile. In a way, he wants to be their world again. He wants them to NEED him. The idea that they don’t is too much to bear, so Tenna pretends. Pretends that Kris needs him even more than he needs them.

And this isn’t to downplay his interesting dynamic with Susie or Ralsei either— but I think it’s so fascinating how he fixates on Kris. He’s always talking about them, thinking about them, wondering what will make THEM happy. Not Ralsei. Not Susie. Kris.

The borderline possessive behavior he displays towards Kris is so so delicious. He loves them so much it hurts, so they’ll hurt too. He’s so confident in his knowledge of Kris, the more and more they reject him the further he slips into mania to try and get SOMETHING from them.

And, y’know, nothing I’m saying here is new or isn’t already obvious. But I think Tenna and Kris’ relationship has so much potential outside of the art of them drowning out the fighting with Tenna — which I do adore!

Tenna holds on to anything he can, even the employees he mistreats and exploits. He wants to make people happy because HE wants to be needed and adored. He holds on so hard it hurts. He tries to draw Kris in by reminding them of the good old days— but just pushes them away even further, leading him to more and more extremes to try and get their love and attention back. Dude was on the verge of committing war crimes to get Kris back.

Kris isn’t a kid anymore. But to Tenna, they’re still his kid. Even if they need a… not-so-gentle reminder! Teenagers, right? So rebellious! They can forget how much they need their caretakers.

Tenna loves Kris. And that does not make him above hurting, manipulating, and displaying possessive behaviors over them in a vain attempt to make them love him as much as they used to. And I love it.

(Also I just realized I don’t have a link on my account to my Ao3, which you asked for— so my bad! It’s Calamit_Y on ao3– I’ve got two fics about Kris and Tenna if you’re up for reading them! Currently I’m tossing around an idea where Kris gets the Snowgrave treatment instead in chapter 2… but nothing concrete. Yet.)

👀👀👀

You're so right. I was pretty disappointed when I looked in the tag and saw very little dark Kris & Tenna content. Don't get me wrong, I also love the art where he's the kind uncle shielding his nibling from the Divorce, but... he's not just a kind uncle.

I read your two fics and they're perfect! You 100% nailed Tenna's demeanor, affable and desperate even as he's hurting others, a love that borders on obsession without going full yandere.

It makes sense that Tenna will all be about Kris. The fondness he has for Susie is all new, which thematically makes sense since the whole point of Susie is creating a new future. But Kris? That's the kid he raised. Or, at least, it's how he feels. Funnily enough, Tenna never reminesces of times they watched TV alone, it's always with Asriel or Asgore. I guess he needs to feel important, because if he is not a formative part of Kris' childhood, then what use is he?

Tenna definitely gives the vibe of a parental figure who has a very specific, yet outdated view of their child. He knows best. He knows what Kris truly needs (him). He loves Kris, his cute kid Kris - so he doesn't know how to approach the depressed teen Kris. And since he knows best, he's not afraid of gently "parenting" his sassy nibling if they resist his love.

It's just. ugh. he's so creepy but never in a hateable way, I love him 😭 you can't say he's just a selfish bastard who only cares about himself, there is this wonderful combination of genuine love for his family and self-centered desperation! It's complex, and it's realistic, and it's ughhhhh tenna is so goooooooood

This is all Tenna, of course. It's harder to gauge how Kris feels about him. But considering that Tenna is the personification and reminder of a happy childhood that no longer exists, which incidentally is a behavior that Asgore shares and makes everyone uncomfortable, I can't imagine they care a lot. And this absolutely creates a push and pull where the more Tenna tries to bond with Kris to recreate "the good ol' times", the less Kris wants anything to do with him. They can't stay home and watch TV, they have friends now. Friends who won't push him to return to something they no longer are.

Huh. Of course Kris wouldn't be comfortable with yet another parental figure trying to control them :)

(and I haven't even touched the part where in the Mantle game Tenna reveals he had a deal with Kris, and the guy still has to kill him, which can mean nothing.)

Thank you for the ask and the recommendations, I can't get enough of the funny TV guy and his nibling <3

[erinwantstowrite]

erin is this a sign to force my sister to go watch superman with me this week? she has absolutely zero knowledge of anything dc and i need a good way to introduce her!!

I won't go into too much detail yet because i want to give it a minute for everyone to have a chance to see it before i post spoilers, but i for sure recommend it

for starters: it has a lot of references and is really immersed in the DC universe, but not in a way that someone who didn't know would be lost while watching it, but in a way that felt like James Gunn and the writers just really cared about the setting and the world lore. this felt like a comic book come to life. i feel like not knowing the lore would be a benefit and not a detriment when watching. experiencing the DC universe for the first time through the lens of this movie?? i'm JEALOUS of everyone who gets to experience that! yes, it's very much for the comic book lovers, but i could tell they cared about making sure a general audience could keep up. the balance was amazingly done and i applaud the writers. how do i know?

my mother went with me! let me tell you, my mom has zero knowledge of anything DC besides watching Smallville (she mixes up marvel and DC all the time), and she had a BLAST. she usually asks me a lot of questions after we watch a movie, and this time she mostly just had commentary, and was curious rather than confused. so we have someone who watched DC that loved the movie, and we have someone who knew nothing who also loved it. granted, we're both geeks, but still!!

the cast: (forgive me for not mentioning every name, i haven't done my full research yet. i wanted to wait until i saw it before i looked ANYTHING up so i could go in as blind as possible)

THEY SOLD THIS MOVIE!!

every single actor DID THEIR JOB!!! each scene, no matter if you knew who they were or not, was interesting enough to keep your attention. i already want to know more about the ones i wasn't sure about, and that's because the actors made me love their character even if they had almost no speaking lines or were just in the background. for my mom, they really helped along that process of being unsure about what to expect

David Corenswet is a household name already. we could not stop yapping about him- not just his looks, but his acting. in every way possible, he embodied Superman. the future looks bright!! i'm really hoping we get to see him continue as Superman

but we also had a lot of fun with the other characters. Lois was perfectly casted in my opinion. and the rest of the journalist cast!! oh my god!! i could sit here for a while and talk about how cool their dynamic was to see on screen but i have to save that for later!!

Mom loved Mr. Terrific!! i would also love to see him continue on the big screen. she wasn't sure about Hawkgirl at first but she recognized her actress and was delighted, now she's her number one fan. Guy Gardner was incredible. I loved to be annoyed by him and his fuckass bowlcut. Lex Luthor was terrible in every way he could be and I absolutely reveled in it (his actor, Nicolas Hault, was phenomenal, seriously). KRYPTOOOO!!!!

i wish i could give more commentary but we just have to wait until a little later. but yeah, this movie was a 10/10 for both of us, and i say to take as many people as you can!!!

[gigglesoup]

I'm gonna be very serious with you all for a minute. I usually try to avoid upsetting topics, but i feel like it's time to publicly set this boundary.

Please don't lie to me about your age.

I can not stress enough how much it hurts when i get lied to. It is a very serious matter to me. There is absolutely no reason for you to lie to me about your age. It's petty. It's unnecessary. Don't tell me you're X years old when you're actually Y years old.

"Oh, like when someone tells you they're 23 but they're actually 24?"

No. Like when someone says they're in their 20's, but they're actually in their 30's. When someone says they're in their 40's but they're actually in their 50's, and so on.

And let me make myself crystal clear right now: Your age is not the problem (unless you're under 18). It's the fact that you thought it was okay to lie to me. It's the lie that hurts, not the fact that you're older or younger than you said you were.

I can assure you i'm not gonna fucking point and laugh at you if you're an older person. Fuck, i don't care you're in your 40's, 50's, whatever. If you're too old for me, i'll let you know in the most respectful and peaceful way i can. I would NEVER make fun of someone because of their age.

My point here is: please don't lie to me. Don't lie to me about stuff that just don't need to be lied about. Especially important things such as how old you are. Shit like that could (and probably will) seriously make me so disappointed that i'm most likely going to lose interest in our dynamic/relationship/friendship. I'd rather hear an "ugly" truth than a beautiful lie.

[wildernessworship]

Even before s3 gave us some tasty backstory that complicated Lottie's family dynamic, I didn't vibe with the way popular fanon settled into a depiction of stereotypical white wealth for the Matthews. You know what I mean. The stuffy old money family obsessed with appearances and legacy, surrounded by staff, stalwart features of the country club scene, endlessly jet setting, etc. All that WASP shit.

Personally, I never got old money from them. Malcolm is so yuppie it hurts, and Emilia almost certainly knows the immigrant experience, either coming to the US as a kid or being born to immigrant parents. That said, I don't want to shit on anyone's headcanons. I think having Lottie grow up in an old money WASPy environment could be interesting, but definitely not when it's just a copy pasted Rich White Girl experience (and unfortunately it usually is that).

Not only has that kind of story been told a thousand times, it doesn't even make sense to approach Lottie from that perspective. She's mixed race and visibly Not White, and that would be just as othering for her as her mental health is. If you're going to drop her into a space that's reserved for the white elite, it's absolutely worth considering the ways she'll never be able to fit in and be fully accepted into that space, and how that's contributed to her feelings of alienation.

If Lottie and her mom are rubbing elbows with rich white people at country clubs in the 80s and 90s, they're surely encountering casual racism, exoticization, resentment, and implicit messaging: this is not for you, you don't belong here. It's inevitable that there would be uncomfortable racial baggage tied up in their proximity to wealth, even more so post-divorce when Malcolm's whiteness isn't there to shield them and offer a measure of justification.

Obviously people can do as they please and are free to write Lottie with a default rich white girl experience, but I personally don't see the appeal of it. I just find it so much more interesting and satisfying to explore the implications of Lottie's mixed race identity and how it impacts her relationship with wealth, as well as her overall experience.

[falloutrebellion]

Mind Games Part II

Part I.

Pairing: Itachi x Brat!Reader

Prompt: 2, 10, 21 (Prompts)

Summary: You are ANBU of the Leaf, sent to spy on two Akatsuki members to locate their hideout. Things don't go as planned, and you're captured and held prisoner. Itachi is assigned as your ward, charged with transferring you to the Northern Hideout. You don't make things easy for him along the way, and he's about had it with your smart mouth.

🔞 Mature Content. Minors DNI. 🔞

Tags: Bratty Reader, Dom Itachi, Oral (male and female receiving), Rough sex, Orgasm denial, Fingering, Brat taming, Dirty talk, Prisoner/Captor dynamic, Slightly dark Itachi

An uncomfortable silence settles between you and Itachi. He kneels on the ground and begins arranging sticks in a precise pattern.

It's the first time you've had a chance to really look at him since your capture. His features are illuminated by the fading daylight—sharp jawline, high cheekbones, those distinctive lines beneath his eyes. Despite everything—his crimes, his betrayal, the fact that he's your captor—you can't deny the Uchiha's striking beauty.

"See something interesting?" Itachi asks without looking up from his task.

You hadn't realized you were staring. "Just wondering how someone so pretty could be so evil."

His hands pause momentarily before continuing their work.

"The Uchiha genes really are something," you continue, enjoying his discomfort. "Too bad they're wasted on you."

Itachi strikes a flint, igniting the kindling. The flames cast dancing shadows across his face, highlighting those perfect features.

"Are you always this talkative with your captors?" He asks, his voice level.

"Only the pretty ones." You flash a saccharine smile. "It's not every day I get kidnapped by Konoha's most infamous heartthrob."

"This isn't a game," Itachi warns, though his tone remains calm.

"No? Then why am I having so much fun?" You stretch your bound legs out toward the growing fire. "Though I am curious why the great Itachi Uchiha is playing delivery boy. Fallen out of favor with your criminal friends?"

He doesn't respond.

"The silent treatment? How original." You shift on the log, the cuffs chafing your wrists. "I expected more from someone who mastered the Sharingan before he could shave."

The fire crackles between you, illuminating his impassive face. Itachi continues tending the flames, seemingly oblivious to your provocations.

You lean forward slightly, readying your next jab. "I heard rumors you're going blind. Is that why you can't look me in the eye, Uchiha?"

His jaw tightens almost imperceptibly.

"Or maybe," you continue, voice dropping to a mock whisper, "They sent you because they know you're too soft to actually hurt a Leaf ninja. Deep down, you're still that little boy in ANBU, aren't you?"

Itachi's eyes flick up to yours, the Sharingan now activated, spinning lazily.

"Careful," he murmurs, but there's a new edge to his voice.

"Or what?" You smirk, leaning closer still. "You'll give me the silent treatment harder? Maybe write a strongly worded letter to Lady Tsunade about my behavior?"

The corner of his mouth twitches—with annoyance or amusement, you can't tell.

"The legendary Itachi Uchiha," you drawl, "reduced to prisoner transport. How the mighty have fallen. Tell me, does it bother you that your little brother is out there getting stronger while you're stuck babysitting me?"

Something dangerous flickers in his eyes.

"I wonder what Sasuke would think if he could see his big brother now—"

In a blur of movement too fast to track, Itachi is suddenly before you, one hand gripping your jaw, face tilted up to his. The Sharingan spins hypnotically, his face inches from yours.

"You talk too much," he says, voice low and controlled, but with an undercurrent of something that makes your heart race.

You try to maintain your defiant expression, but your breath catches in your throat. This close, you can smell him—sandalwood and steel.

"Is this supposed to scare me?" You whisper, but your voice betrays you, coming out shakier than intended.

His thumb traces your lower lip, the gesture surprisingly intimate. "No," he says softly. "This is supposed to remind you that I am not someone you want to provoke."

A shiver runs down your spine that has nothing to do with fear. His proximity, the intensity of his gaze, the firm grip on your jaw—it's affecting you in ways you hadn't anticipated.

"I think," he continues, leaning even closer until his lips nearly brush your ear, "that you need to be taught a lesson in respect."

Your heart hammers against your ribs. The tension between you crackles like the fire beside you, dangerous and alluring at once. Despite the warning bells in your mind, you find yourself drawn to the danger he presents.

"A lesson?" You manage to say, your voice lighter than intended. "I didn't realize the Akatsuki offered educational services."

His grip tightens slightly on your jaw, those crimson eyes never leaving yours. The rational part of your brain screams that you should be terrified—this is Itachi Uchiha, killer of his clan, S-rank criminal. Yet something else, something primal, responds to the power radiating from him.

"You know," you whisper, tilting your head slightly against his grip. "For someone who claims I talk too much, you seem awfully interested in what I have to say."

You watch his eyes narrow fractionally, the tomoe of his Sharingan spinning. Playing with fire would be safer than what you're doing, but you can't seem to help yourself.

"Maybe you like my voice," you continue, deliberately letting your lower lip brush against his thumb. "Maybe the infamous Itachi Uchiha is lonely."

Something flashes in his expression—so brief you almost miss it. His other hand comes up to wrap loosely around your throat, not squeezing, just... present. A reminder.

"You have no idea what you're doing," he says, his voice so low it's almost a physical sensation against your skin.

You swallow hard, feeling the movement against his palm. "Enlighten me, then."

In one fluid motion, he pulls you to your feet, your bound hands trapped between your bodies as he backs you against a nearby tree. The rough bark scrapes against your back through your thin ANBU uniform.

"Are you this brazen with everyone who captures you?" He asks, his voice low and controlled. "Or am I special?"

"Hmm, I’m just testing to see if you have any balls." You reply, purposely leaning forward until there's barely a breath between you. "So far, I'm not impressed."

Something shifts in his expression—a darkening of his eyes, a slight parting of his lips. He releases your jaw only to grab a fistful of your hair, tilting your head back to expose your throat.

"Don't worry," he says, his voice a dangerous whisper that sends shivers down your spine. "I'm going to take my sweet time punishing you."

The threat—or is it a promise?—hangs in the air between you. Your breath catches, your body responding traitorously to his words and proximity. You know you should be afraid, but the fear mingles with a heated anticipation that surprises even you.

"Big words from someone who hasn't done anything yet," you challenge again, though your voice betrays a slight tremor.

His free hand traces the column of your throat, feather-light but unmistakably threatening. "Patience was always my virtue," he says.

You open your mouth for another retort, but he silences you by pressing his thumb against your lips.

"Each time you speak without permission," he continues, his voice silky smooth, "I will add another... consequence to your punishment."

A small, rational part of your mind screams that you should stop toying with him, stop antagonizing him. But something in you keeps on, testing the waters with Itachi.

"I don't take orders from—"

He cuts you off by claiming your mouth with his. The kiss is bruising, possessive, stealing your breath and thoughts in equal measure. Your bound hands press uselessly against his chest, caught between resistance and surrender. When he finally pulls away, your lips feel swollen, your breath coming in short gasps.

"Is that supposed to shut me up?" You taunt, voice raspy with unwarranted desire. "You'll have to try harder than that, Uchiha."

His eyes narrow dangerously, the Sharingan spinning faster. In one swift movement, he spins you around, pressing your face against the rough bark of the tree. Your cheek scrapes against the wood as he holds you there with one hand between your shoulder blades.

"I don't think you understand your position," he murmurs against your ear, his free hand trailing down your spine. "You are my prisoner. Your comfort, your dignity—these are privileges I can revoke at any time." His Sharingan eyes bore into yours, searching for something—surrender, perhaps.

He won't find it.

"You don’t scare me." You taunt, voice shaking despite your best efforts. "You’re nothing but—"

His hand tightens in your hair, yanking your head back with enough force to make you gasp. "You never learn, do you?" He murmurs, his breath hot against your ear. "So desperate for attention that you'll risk everything for it."

"Perhaps I just want to see what it takes for you to lose your composure," you retort, fighting against the shiver his proximity causes.

A dangerous smirk plays at the corner of his mouth—so slight you might have missed it if you weren't this close. "Then you're about to get exactly what you want."

In one fluid motion, he forces you down, his grip on your hair unyielding as he guides you to your knees before him. The forest floor is hard beneath you, the tree at your back preventing any retreat. Your hands, still bound by the chakra-suppressing cuffs, are useless in front of you.

"I want to see those pretty little lips wrapped around my cock," he growls, voice low and commanding. His free hand moves to the front of his pants, his intent unmistakable.

Your heart hammers wildly in your chest, a mixture of defiance and arousal coursing through your veins. You know you should be terrified, or at least attempting to escape, but instead, you find yourself licking your lips in anticipation.

Still, you can't resist one more jab.

"And what if I bite?" You challenge, looking up at him through your lashes, deliberately provocative.

His smile grows fractionally wider, more predatory. "Then I'll have to teach you what happens to disobedient little kunoichi who don't know their place."

The threat sends a thrill through you that has no business existing. You're an ANBU, a trained killer, not some civilian to be intimidated by pretty words and rough handling. And yet...

“You talk a big game Itachi—”

His response is immediate, cutting you off before you get to finish. He releases your hair only to grip your jaw again, fingers digging into your cheeks with enough pressure to force your mouth open.

"Open," he commands, his voice deadly quiet as he uses his free hand to free his length. Your eyes widen at the size of him, thick and already hard. The moonlight catches the pre-cum glistening at the tip as he guides himself toward your parted lips.

"This is what happens to prisoners who don't know when to be silent," he says, guiding himself to your parted lips.

Despite your defiance, you find yourself obeying, parting your lips further as he slides inside. The taste of him fills your mouth—salt and musk and something uniquely Itachi. Your bound hands rest awkwardly against his thighs, trying to maintain balance as he begins to move.

"That's it," he murmurs, the hand in your hair tightening as he controls your movements. "Show me how sorry you are for all that disrespect."

You respond by hollowing your cheeks, earning a sharp intake of breath from above. A small victory that's short-lived as he suddenly thrusts deeper, hitting the back of your throat and making you gag.

"No more games," he growls, using his grip on your hair to control your pace. 

He pushes deeper with each thrust, giving you no breaks as he forces himself down your throat. Your eyes water, saliva building and spilling from the corners of your mouth as he uses you mercilessly. Your bound hands clutch at his thighs, neither pushing him away nor pulling him closer—simply trying to steady yourself against the onslaught.

"Look at you now," Itachi's voice has taken on a rough edge, his perfect composure finally cracking. "Not so talkative with your mouth full, are you?"

A moan escapes you, vibrating around his length, and his grip tightens in response. You shouldn't be enjoying this—being used by your enemy, on your knees in the dirt—but the wet heat between your thighs tells a different story.

"You're taking it so well," he continues, his voice a dark caress. "I wonder what the rest of ANBU would think if they could see their comrade now, choking on my cock and loving every second of it."

Tears stream down your cheeks as he pushes deeper, forcing you to take all of him. Saliva drips freely down your chin, soaking the front of your uniform. The sounds are obscene—wet, choking gasps and the low groans that occasionally escape Itachi's control.

"Such a good little prisoner, serving so eagerly." He says, pulling back just enough to let you gasp for air before plunging back in. 

Your mind swims with conflicting emotions—humiliation and arousal battling for dominance as he continues his relentless pace. The rational part of you knows you should be trying to stop this, not internally begging for more, begging for his wrath.

Just as you feel him tensing, ready to find his release down your throat, he abruptly pulls back. With one fluid motion, he yanks you upward by your hair, your legs wobbling as you're forced to stand.

"You forget this is punishment." He murmurs against your ear, his voice like velvet wrapped around steel.

His hand slides down your stomach and beneath the waistband of your ANBU pants without preamble, finding the slick heat between your thighs. His sharp intake of breath tells you he's found exactly what he expected.

"Soaked," he murmurs, fingers exploring your wetness with deliberate, torturous slowness. "This is what fighting me does to you? Makes you drip down your thighs?"

You bite your lip to stifle a moan, refusing to give him the satisfaction.

"Answer me," he commands, his fingers stilling.

"Go to hell," you manage to gasp out.

His response is immediate. He yanks your pants down to your knees in one rough motion, exposing you to the cool night air. "So defiant," he says, plunging two fingers inside you without warning. "Yet so responsive."

You cry out, your bound hands instinctively clutching the front of his shirt for support. His thumb finds your clit as his fingers work inside you, curling to hit a spot that makes your vision blur.

"Itachi—" his name escapes your lips before you can stop it.

"That's better," he hums, increasing his pace. "Say my name again."

Instead, you bite down on your lower lip, determined not to give him what he wants. His response is to add a third finger, stretching you as his pace becomes relentless.

Your body betrays you completely, hips bucking against his hand as pleasure coils tight in your core. You're close—so close—your breath coming in short, desperate pants as your fingers twist into the fabric of his shirt.

"Oh god," you finally whimper, pride forgotten in the face of overwhelming need.

And then his hand is gone. The sudden emptiness makes you whine in frustration, your hips chasing his retreating touch.

"What the fuck?" You snarl, all pretense of submission abandoned. "You can't just—"

"Can't what?" Itachi asks, his voice maddeningly calm despite having an angry, throbbing erection. "Did you think I would reward your disrespect with release?"

"You arrogant, self-righteous bastard," you hiss, tugging uselessly at your restraints. "If my hands were free—"

"But they're not," he interrupts, tracing one wet finger along your lower lip. "And you're in no position to make demands. But if you're a good girl and do exactly as I say, you'll get your reward."

Your eyes lock with his, defiance warring with desperate need.

"Taste," he commands, pressing his fingers against your mouth.

You part your lips, letting him slide his fingers inside. The taste of your own arousal floods your senses as you suck obediently, your tongue swirling around his digits. A low groan escapes him as he watches you, his Sharingan spinning lazily.

"That's it," he murmurs, watching your tongue work around his digits. "Show me how badly you want me to fuck you."

Heat floods your cheeks at his crude words, but you can't deny their effect on you. You suck his fingers clean, maintaining eye contact with a defiance that contradicts your submission.

Before you can form a retort, he spins you around, pressing your chest against the rough bark of the tree. With one hand, he tears at your remaining clothing, exposing you fully to the cool night air. His hardness presses against your entrance, teasing but not entering.

"Beg for it," he demands, his voice rough with desire.

"No," you gasp, even as your body arches back against him.

He chuckles darkly, the sound vibrating through you. "Still so stubborn." His tip circles your entrance, gathering your wetness but never pushing in. "You'll break eventually."

His hand snakes around to find your swollen clit, circling it with maddening precision. Your hips buck involuntarily, seeking more pressure, more friction, anything to relieve the building tension.

"Itachi," you whimper, your resolve crumbling.

"That's not begging," he says, his fingers working faster as he continues to tease your entrance with his cock. 

The pressure builds and builds, your release tantalizingly close but always just out of reach. His skilled fingers bring you to the edge repeatedly, only to slow down when your breathing hitches.

"Please," you finally gasp, your pride shattering under his relentless torture. "Please, Itachi, I need—"

"Need what?" He prompts, his voice a dark caress against your ear.

"I need you inside me," you confess, shame and desire mingling in your voice. "Please fuck me."

His response is immediate and brutal. He thrusts into you with one powerful stroke, filling you completely. The sudden intrusion forces a cry from your lips, a mixture of pain and ecstasy. He gives you no time to adjust, setting a punishing pace that has your bound hands scrabbling against the tree trunk for purchase.

"So tight," he hisses, one hand gripping your hip while the other tangles in your hair. "So wet for someone you call your enemy."

Each thrust pushes you harder against the tree, the rough bark scraping your cheek and palms. The pain mingles with pleasure, creating a heady cocktail that has you moaning shamelessly. You're close again, the coil of tension winding tighter with each brutal thrust.

Just as you're about to tip over the edge, Itachi slows, his movements becoming shallow and teasing.

"Not yet," he growls, sensing your approaching climax. "You come when I allow it."

You whimper in frustration, trying to push back against him to deepen his thrusts. His response is a sharp slap to your ass that makes you yelp.

"Behave," he warns, his fingers digging into the flesh he just struck.

"Please," you beg, all pretense of defiance abandoned. "Please, Itachi, I need—"

"What do you need?" He punctuates the question with a particularly deep thrust that makes you see stars. "Tell me."

"I need to cum," you admit, voice breaking with desperation. "Please let me cum, Itachi."

He resumes his punishing pace, his hand snaking around to find your clit again. "Then cum for me," he commands, his fingers working in precise circles that make your legs tremble.

The command shatters your last thread of resistance. Your orgasm crashes through you with stunning intensity, your inner walls clenching around him as wave after wave of pleasure rips through your body. You scream his name, shame forgotten as your release floods out of you, soaking both your thighs and his. The evidence of your pleasure drips down your legs, marking the forest floor beneath you.

"Good girl," he hums, his voice dark with approval as your slick drips down both your legs.

Before you can catch your breath, he withdraws suddenly, leaving you empty and disoriented. With ruthless efficiency, he pulls you down onto all fours, your bound hands scraping against the ground as your face presses into the dirt. He positions your hips, spreading your legs wide apart, leaving you completely exposed in the moonlight.

"Look at you," he murmurs, his hands kneading the flesh of your ass. "Dripping and ready for more."

You're still quivering from your intense orgasm, aftershocks rippling through your oversensitive body. Despite this, you feel yourself arching back, silently begging for him to fill you again. Your body has betrayed you completely, craving the enemy you should despise.

"Itachi," you gasp, feeling utterly exposed as he spreads your legs wider with his knees. "I can't—"

Your protests die in your throat as you feel something warm and wet against your oversensitive flesh. Not his cock as you'd expected, but his tongue, lapping at the wetness that coats your thighs. A strangled moan escapes you as he works his way up, collecting every drop of your release.

"Oh god," you whimper as his tongue finds your swollen clit, circling it with deliberate, torturous precision. Your body, still sensitive from your recent orgasm, jerks at the contact, but his firm grip on your hips holds you in place.

He hums against you, the vibration sending fresh shockwaves of pleasure through your oversensitized body. His tongue dips lower, tracing your entrance before plunging inside, tasting the evidence of your pleasure.

"Itachi—please—it's too much," you plead, even as your hips betray you, pushing back against his mouth. The dual sensations of shame and arousal war within you—being on your knees in the dirt, ass in the air, while a rogue ninja feasts on you like a starving man.

He responds by burying his face deeper between your thighs, his tongue delving inside you before returning to your clit, alternating between gentle licks and firm suction that has you trembling uncontrollably. His hands spread you wider, exposing every inch of you to his devouring mouth.

"Too much," you sob, your body conflicted between the overwhelming sensitivity and building pleasure. "I can't—"

He pulls back just enough to speak, his breath hot against your wet flesh. "You can and you will," he says, voice commanding.

The pressure builds again, impossibly fast, a second orgasm gathering force within you. Your thighs quiver uncontrollably as his relentless tongue works against your swollen clit, his fingers digging into the flesh of your ass.

"I-Itachi, I'm going to—" The warning dissolves into a scream as pleasure explodes through you, more intense than the first. Your release floods his waiting mouth, your hips bucking wildly against his face as you ride out the waves of ecstasy. His name tears from your throat, echoing through the forest as you shatter completely, your essence coating his lips and chin.

He finally pulls back, and you collapse onto your forearms, your bound wrists unable to support your trembling body. You can hear his ragged breathing behind you, can almost feel the weight of his gaze on your exposed, quivering form.

"Look at what a mess you've made of me," he murmurs, his voice dark with satisfaction. "My face is soaked. I wonder what your Hokage would think," he continues, his voice dark velvet against your skin as his fingers trace your dripping entrance, "seeing her precious ANBU bent over in the dirt, begging an Akatsuki member to fuck her harder."

You whimper, too overwhelmed to form a coherent response. The humiliation burns hot, but it only seems to fuel the lingering arousal still pulsing through your veins.

"Please..." you whisper, though you're not sure what you're asking for—mercy or more.

"Please what?" His voice is silky as his hand tangles in your hair, pulling your head back. "Please stop? Please continue? Use your words, little girl."

Before you can respond, you feel the blunt head of his cock pressing against your entrance again. In one powerful thrust, he buries himself to the hilt, the force of it pushing you forward in the dirt.

His hand comes down hard on your ass, the sharp sting making you cry out as a fresh wave of arousal courses through you. He spanks you again, harder this time, leaving a handprint you're sure will bruise by morning.

"Is this what you wanted?" He growls, setting a brutal pace that has you gasping for air. "To be fucked like an animal in the forest by your enemy?"

His hand comes down hard on your ass again, the sharp slap echoing through the trees. The sting blooms across your skin, drawing a surprised cry from your lips. He does it again, harder, on the other cheek.

"Answer me," he demands, punctuating his command with another stinging slap.

"Yes!" You cry out, beyond shame now. "Yes, it's what I wanted!"

He rewards your honesty with a particularly deep thrust that hits something inside you, making your vision blur. His rhythm is relentless, each powerful stroke pushing you further into the forest floor. One hand remains tangled in your hair, the other delivering occasional sharp slaps to your reddening ass.

"Such a perfect little slut," he murmurs, his voice strained with building pleasure.

His pace becomes erratic, his breathing harsh in the quiet forest. You feel him swell inside you, his fingers digging into your flesh with bruising force.

"Take it all," he growls, his voice strained as he drives into you one final time, burying himself to the hilt.

You feel his release flood you, hot and pulsing as he fills you completely. He continues to move within you, slower now, drawing out his pleasure as he empties himself inside you. The sensation of his seed spilling into you, marking you in the most primal way, triggers a third, unexpected orgasm that leaves you sobbing his name.

With surprising gentleness, Itachi rolls your trembling body over, your bound wrists trapped beneath you as he looms above. His Sharingan eyes study your face, taking in your flushed cheeks and glazed expression.

"Have you learned your lesson about that smart mouth of yours?" He asks, voice husky but composed as he pushes a strand of sweat-dampened hair from your face.

You try to respond with something witty, something defiant, but your mind is blank, pleasure-hazed and unfocused. Your lips part, but only a broken whimper emerges. Three consecutive orgasms have left you utterly incoherent, your legendary ANBU discipline shattered under his skillful ministrations.

A satisfied smirk plays at the corner of his mouth as he watches you struggle to form words. "Look at you now," he murmurs, trailing a finger down your cheek. " Where are all those clever insults, hmm?"

You manage only a weak moan in response, your body still quivering with aftershocks.

"I think I prefer you like this," he continues, his voice a dark caress. "Thoroughly fucked and unable to talk back. Perhaps this is how I should keep you for the remainder of our journey—desperate and dripping with my cum."

The crude words send another ripple of shameful pleasure through you. Your eyes flutter closed, overwhelmed by the intensity of it all.

"That's what I thought," he continues, his thumb tracing your lower lip. "You can't even speak. I wonder if this is what it takes to keep that pretty mouth of yours in line."

A twig snaps nearby, followed by a low whistle. Your eyes fly open to see Kisame emerging from the trees, his sharp teeth gleaming in a predatory grin.

"Well, well," the shark-man chuckles, making no effort to avert his gaze from your exposed body. "I heard screaming and came running. Thought maybe you two were trying to kill each other." His grin widens as he takes in the scene—your disheveled state, the obvious evidence of what transpired, Itachi's typically perfect appearance now marred by sweat and dirt as he rests between your thighs. "But I see you found a different way to resolve your problems."

Itachi doesn't rush to move away from you or cover your nakedness. Instead, he regards his partner with cool detachment. "We had a disagreement about authority."

"Clearly," Kisame snorts, his gaze lingering on your trembling form. "And who won that disagreement?"

"I did," Itachi says simply, finally shifting to pull your torn clothing back into some semblance of decency.

Kisame barks out another laugh. "Obviously. Poor little princess looks like she can barely remember her own name, let alone form an argument." He moves to the opposite side of the fire, settling down casually, as if he hadn’t just caught Itachi balls deep inside you.

Itachi, now fully dressed, wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, and a gleam in his eye that wasn’t there before.

“Where’s your snappy comebacks now, princess?” Kisame laughs, his eyes lingering a little too long.

All you can do is form a grumble and roll your eyes as you halfheartedly straighten yourself up. Itachi’s eyes never leave you, and you begin to wonder how the rest of your journey will pan out.

[ficfindingfiend]

i just finished the musical Next to Normal and first i’d like to say i’m devastated. it was amazing but im never going to emotionally recover.

second, i obviously connected this to batfam because…yeah.

ANYWAY!! bruce is diane struggling with grief over the loss of his child (jason duh). bipolar bruce is for sure super interesting to me.

i’m thinking dan is dick. he’s the most likely to be in denial until his own mental health issues blow up in his face (canon lol). and of course he was the one always there for bruce. also side note for the sake of this au/idea im using batfam dynamics so let’s ignore diane and dan being married for the sake of the dynamics of diane/dan and bruce/dick being the most similar.

like i said, jason is gabe AKA the incarnation of grief, mental illness, and haunter of his poor family.

now i want to say tim is natalie, but id accept damian or both tim and damian as another interpretation. i dont think any other members of the batfam have the same inferiority complex when it comes to jason as these two.

i have so much more to say about this, but i’ll leave it here for now and maybe make a supplemental post later!

[jezuschristsuperstar]

idk why some sydcarmy fans are quick to dismiss the romantic potential of sydluca?? like if we watched the same show, the former is riddled with trust issues and has a lot of work to do to even maintain a business partnership. it doesn't mean that their relationship isn't important, but sydney and luca having mutual flirting is what makes people scramble to call them platonic and nothing else? sydluca naturally clicking well as good friends and having an open, respectful yet playful vibe around each other, it's not surprising at all people are drawn to this relationship.

i'm not even insisting on any "endgame" for this show but the pushback from some sydcarmy stans regarding sydney having a healthy dynamic with another character and wanting a romance from that.... Just weird.

I have my own thoughts on Sydluca. I genuinely wouldn’t mind that possibility being explored. It would be interesting to see Sydney within the context of a romantic relationship and how she’d act as well as whether she’d have problems establishing a work/life balance (much like we’ve seen with Carmy). I feel like that’s something we are missing, especially when we have seen almost everybody else’s romantic dynamics.

Ayo and Will Poulter have amazing chemistry and even though they have less than 7 minutes of screen time together, they still manage to convince the audience of a connection. The Chive scene kinda got me, I’m not going to lie. That being said, they have less than 7 minutes of screen time together. We aren’t really presented with a relationship to draw from. Whilst their initial interactions can be perceived as flirtatious, the writers of the show haven’t yet or aren’t bothering to define the nature of their relationship. This is unlike with Carmen and Claire, Richie and Jess, as well as Sydney and Carmen. They don’t necessarily have to tell us outright, but with these three pairings we are given something beyond banter. So I would understand why some Sydcarmy fans don’t feel connected to this ship. Claire and Carmy are a case of childhood lovers. Richie and Jess are coworkers with underlying tension who now seem to depend on each other- and Sydney and Carmen are this dynamic dialled up to 100 with an added layer of messiness. So where do Luca and Sydney fall? What is there to root for? Personally, I see no problem shipping them. However, I also feel as if their dynamic isn’t yet interesting enough for people to care.

It’s all about what’s intriguing and being given something to vouch for at the end of the day, I think. Because this is a story and these are fictional characters- we remove them from what we would actually desire in reality in order to have something compelling and entertaining. Which is why people are so drawn to sydcarmy- the entire idea of their relationship is engaging, entertaining and unique.

Them being destined to meet because of that blood orange dish? Interesting! Her coming to work at his restaurant because of this dish? Interesting! Them becoming partners after months of knowing each other? Interesting! The subsequent tension that comes from piecing everything together and Carmen finding himself outside of work (the introduction of Claire)? INTERESTING!!!! The chef coat and the table and every other tender moment in between. The tension post friends and family night. The fact that we are seeing their relationship at its most efficient and it’s least efficient. And now him calling her The Bear. It may not necessarily be healthy, but it’s engaging. We are taken on a journey, and ultimately we are made to root for this relationship to succeed.

Similarly with Carmen and Claire (although less people seem to be fans of this pairing). We are taken on a journey with them- we see Carmen start to realise that he can have a life outside of work and perhaps enjoying himself and having relationships isn’t a bad thing, despite being very apprehensive at first (him not giving her his number because he felt as if he doesn’t deserve to have fun). We see Claire indulge him- they go to a party, they deliver some mail, they have fun together, and she feels as if she’s finally getting to know him. However, it all comes crashing down when he’s locked in a freezer. He spends the entire time afterwards riddled with guilt and back to where he started because he had already told himself initially that he was too fucked up to be in a relationship or to be a functional human being. On paper, this dynamic is very interesting too as it showcases how the things we tell ourselves can affect how we navigate life and challenges that we are faced with. On top of that, it is layered with the childhood friends to lovers trope which is sweet enough to root for. However, not only does it kind of pale in comparison to the tension we are presented with Sydcarmy- we are more so told that Claire is good for Carmy rather than shown. We only get a glimpse of Claire being a positive influence on Carmy in one episode (s2 ep5), and the rest of the time it’s everybody asking Carmy whether or not he loves her which ultimately takes away from what’s supposed to make it interesting. But all in all, we are still presented with a relationship to draw from and something to root for.

Hopefully, Syd and luca are given some time in the next season to explore their dynamic- whether platonic or romantic. They need to give the audience more things to chew on

[pankielovesfan]

what do you think about cabby’s and fan’s relationship i love the way you headcanon and analyze ii characters ^_^

I saw this in my drafts and forgot abouut it oopssss!! sorry for being late!!

I LOVEEEE THEM!!!!! GOD!!! One of the most fun and interesting dynamics for Fan because of how he’s intimidated by her and Fan is VERY fun when he’s intimidated by someone… Season 3 episode 2 is literally my favorite episode of the season for their lovely conflict and how she brings out So many of Fan’s qualities… I wish she was still kind of similar to how she was in earlier season 3 just bc of her treatment of fan being absolutely delightful

Fan has a LOT of respect for Cabby (but no respect of boundaries as usual of course, literally stealing her shit) and feels threatened by just how Smart she is and also with how test tube seemed impressed by her as well, so he gets incredibly defensive when it comes to interactions with her because she knows her shit and fan KNOWS that she's smart. she's a challenge for him. Plus him finding out shes got information about him that’s accurate is painful for him as he’s someone who is in denial of his flaws and lacks awareness of himself and also Doenst Like having awareness of himself so when Cabby Does in such a painfully accurate way he’s soo threatened and uncomfortable. It is a painful reminder of reality for him, especiallly when he wants to be so recognized for being Smart and Knowledgeable. Basically- this is very similar to how, on the official website in his description, he corrected all the flaws presented by crossing them out and changing them because hes so goddam sensitive to being aware of it let alone it being visible to people. He haaaatess it. So Cabby is basically the worst and he gets scared. If she just wrote Big Fan of II and knows alot about it Then that would be perfect! Red! Cool! Impressive personal growth! He literally says his own expectations of her and wants her to be impressed by his knowledge. and her file just makes him insecure

He's at first only mad about this, excusing it as her having WRONG information, especially with how it conflicts with his own self-perception so strongly since he minimizes himself only to the show. But it's even WORSE because she straight up CORRECTS the information that He’s Known For, what he’s centered his entire person around, the show!!!! And in his mind Cabby's just trying to be an asshole and one-up him and act like she's better at his most important intrest. of course he gets pissed and upset bc knowing stuff about ii is HIS thing and the fact she knows more than him ticks him offf!!! Like hes thinking shes deliberately trying to mock him and everything he puts his pride in because he’s so protective and sensitive about that facet of himself.. Major offense

I like to imagine he has this mindset with her alot in their relationship, thinking that most things she says is just to seem superior to him, so she kind of enables alot of stubborness and impulsive behaviours from him because of that. #awesome

I do think her behaviour changing through the season has changed his view on her, and I cant be sure why he seemed so nonchalant about test tube and cabby's whole conflict either, I've always interpreted it as him Not Knowing but like, why wouldn't test tube tell him anything about Cabby if he happens to know about bot- but i suppose she didn't tell him considering he assumes test tube and cabby would make up, which makes a lot more sense actually now that im typing this out. Like he'd totally theorize about their conflict LOL assuming they'd get along in the end even after it all. I think it's sweet and reasonable for him to vote Cabby considering how much he respects her and he'd totally respect her smarts in the game!! so why wouldn't he vote for her you know. Plus it could be a little performative similar to how i interpret WHY he's so chill with her when he gets eliminated- he really doesn't want people see him lose his composure (especially specifically to one-up cabby and prove her observantions wrong, similar to how he acted with knife in s2ep13), so he's trying to act as calm and rational as posssible to look good and feel better about himself, which works :) but I can't imagine he doesnt wail and scream about getting eliminated so early once he's out of sight </3

this is so long sorry cabby just sparks sooo much in fan. i dont even know cabby too well character wise but she makes fan feel a Lot of things which is fun

[pritong-baboy]

i too am a newcomer altho ive had the tag saved for awhile longer, thank YOU for the food ive started fixating, we looove fucked up father figures in this neighborhood thank you for pioneering this cool dynamic!!! i ended up noticing 2 things.

very curious about megatron and shockwave's vibes in the story so far? as in. idk it feels like megatron is coming across as,,,for lack of a better word, soft, about how shockwave seems so damn happy to have a kid to tend to. idk he doesnt come across as angry or domineering as i expected him to be, seems almost Happy for the guy even, and i think thats really cool if thats intentional

shockwave stresses so much about bee growing up at his side, thriving beside him, which is cool but then i realized bee is. grown. he's young but he's a grown mech. so there's this almost forced infantilization and the face i made when i realized "oh. oh its just gonna Be like this. it isnt gonna ease with time bc bumblebee 'grows up.' this is It." at least that's the impression i got, which ohhhh im on the floor /pos

thank you for writing i really adore this so much!!! also i keep seeing something about a penguin au which is fascinating to me

heyyy thank you for liking my stuff!! :D

and about megatron and shockwave, i cant really go in too deep with those two bc it gets into spoiler territory LOLL. but what i CAN say is that megatron severely underestimates just how much shockwave actually likes bee, he doesnt know shockwave as much as he thinks he does.

and about the secondddd, i wouldnt say my portrayal of bee is "grown". i like thinking of him as a "teen" because the thought of him being a teenage soldier and being indoctrinated into the military as a child is super interesting and makes worldbuilding a lot more interesting. but there is a thing with dependancy vs independancy in my au. bee wants to be seen as independant, but clearly still needs guidance, and shockwave offers him that in a wholly smothering and abusive way. shockwave does have the capacity to give bee the support that he needs, but its at the cost of bees autonomy.