#Maybe it's because it's a fic I read early in my time in the fandom but it's really a fic that forever signed my characterization of sskk.

[andromeda3116]

idk man i kinda feel like if you think reading my fic was a waste of your time, maybe you could save yourself some of that time by just hitting the back button instead of writing a comment to complain about it?

[kyouka-supremacy]

do u have any sskk fic recs?? if u r comfortable w sharing ofc!!!

Please check out this post!! Those are all extremely good fics in my opinion :)

New additions to that I can think of (but am definitely missing some. I've been reading fics very sporadically the last months) are:

↳ requited and fermata and flamingoes by ayanuz (zigur)

I read a couple of fics from author (that became a couple of couples) and was absolutely blown away. I remember thinking, it's miraculous how in character they can write sskk before chapters 84-88 even came out- I definitely wouldn't have been able to in their place. Found them while looking for chuuaku fics and I'm so glad I did, amazing writing 1000/10 would die for it

↳ my body is a cage by getintrouble

Aaaahh the Akutagawa characterization. The Akutagawa that would do anything for Atsushi- he died for him, he died for him, he died for him. So beautiful, I love this fic

↳ I love you by averagecerealenjoyer

I'm sorry for keeping recommending microfics but this fic actually means everything to me, I've reread it a thousand times. It's so soft and spontaneous and everything sskk are tbh. Fics that make me feel like the world is okay actually

↳ my mouth desires to spill by lizandre

Read this a few weeks ago and it really stuck with me! It's very very cute until it takes an abrupt morbid twist which is... something. Like there's a few darker sskk fics, and my feelings for them are quite mixed. Thing is, what one usually expects from fics is romance, and there is romance, but when it comes to sskk there's also the ugly part to it you know? The part where they want to gash and eat each other- in the worst way possible. Which is fascinating to explore because that **is** sskk!! One could argue the entirety of Beast is dedicated to explore that gruesome side of their psyche; but it is still disturbing to read about it, it's meant to be disturbing. That's the appeal of the whole ship, its double, twisted nature! It's just an aspect not that many fics tackle, and when one does it often comes as unexpected. It leaves a different taste in your mouth ahah. I'm rambling, but I found this fic very insightful nonetheless!!!

Please refer to my bsd fics tag for more recommendations!

[jutsuuu]

girl help I’m experiencing

[meejijis]

"Why are all SK fans proshippers" Silence fetus

[queers-gambit]

God's Plan

prompt: your boyfriend carries the worst parts of his job home, bringing to life one of your deepest-seeded insecurities. or when Carmy calls you clingy.

pairing: Carmen 'Carmy' Berzatto x female!reader pairing: Carmy x Peach

fandom masterlist: FX's The Bear

collection masterlist: Clingy Baby

word count: 3.3k+

note: she's short. she's to the point. author doesn't want to hear a GODDAMN THING about "glorifying" toxic relationships. shut the fuck up, eat your cereal, read the fic or just scroll away.

warnings: cursing, small angst, short fic, author mildly gave up, hurt with no real comfort, allusion to toxic family relationship, insecurity, not edited.

part two: Two to Tango

"Hey, what're you still doin' here?"

You glanced up from your computer, smiling at your coworker, "Just trying to get the study notes finished so they can be used for the analysis."

"Okay...? But you realize what time it is, right?"

You hummed, glancing at the analog clock, "Just about 7?"

"Yeah, so, go home," she chuckled. "Work's still gonna be here tomorrow."

"I'll see you then," you dismissed softly, watching her smile and turn away from your desk. You tried to get back into work, but the truth was, you felt overly burned out, but still wanted to work because it'd make you feel better being "good" at your job.

So, in reality, you didn't get home until 10:56 pm, yet still beat Carmy. You ate something simple, cleaned up, got a shower, and crashed into bed. You didn't know the time, but Carmy eventually came home; his arm heavy around you when settling for sleep.

You were the first up and out the door the next morning, just barely seeing Carmy when he got up for coffee. You managed a single kiss before rushing away, needing to get to work on time. When you got there, your entire morning was blocked for client meetings, then you took lunch, later, team meetings, and then the last hour or so of work was meant for individual recreation.

Another day of staying late, trying to finish work you thought was important. Another day of getting home late, missing your man, going to bed, and only seeing him the following morning.

However, this time at work, your boss told you that the analysis meetings were pushed back by a week... So, technically, you stayed late and busted your ass for no literal reason! And your coworker's entire cup of coffee spilled on you. And your Outlook email was under maintenance, so, you couldn't really work. And then, to top off a really shitty week, your car was hit in the parking lot and now had a huge fucking dent.

You were beat.

You were overwhelmed.

You were miserable, stressed, righteously confused.

You didn't stay late that night. Instead, you left at a normal hour and texted Carmy:

what time do you think you'll be off?

He replied when you got to your car:

maybe around 8?

You sniffled, nodding, answering:

okay, see you when you get home.

As you exited the parking lot, he replied:

what? you're off?

And you answered:

yeah, couldn't stand being there much longer. think you could get off a little early?

When you made three turns, he sent back:

i'll try, peach 💙

When you got home, you felt utterly defeated. Life felt like a never ending shitshow that refused to alleviate most of the stress you forced to endure. You were in tears by the time you got in the door, angrily stripping and getting a long, hot shower. You cried a little longer. When you got out, you got dressed in cozy shorts and one of Carmy's sweatshirts; going about a few household chores when you realized it was already past 9.

You didn't really want to, but you texted Carmy again,

hey, are you gonna be much later?

You made a simple meal, eating it in silence. When you were doing dishes, Carmy answered,

i don't know, going over menu items with syd. text you on my way home

You just went to bed, exhaustion from the week catching up to you.

Sometime later, you felt Carmy crawl into bed beside you. You were only half awake, but still turned over and nestled into his chest, hearing him sigh. "You're home late," you mumbled.

"Sorry f'wakin' you, Peach," he whispered, pecking your forehead. "You good, baby?"

"S'been a long fuckin' week," you squeezed him.

He sighed, "Sorry it was rough, Peach, but hey, hey, back up a little, 's kinda warm."

"But I haven't seen you."

"I know, but it's just warm. We'll cuddle in the morning, okay?" You only sighed and turned back over to face away from him. You resettled with your pillow, just settling when he asked in a hardened tone, "You mad?"

"No, Carmen, go to sleep."

"You sound mad."

"I'm not."

"I don't mean to piss you off, it's just been a long night f'me and I don't want to cuddle right now," he said in a sharp tone that made your stomach coil and churn.

"Shut up, I'm not mad, Carmen, go to sleep."

He scoffed, your irritation spiking. "You're really fucking mad 'cause I don't want you laying on me right now?"

"No, Carmen, Jesus - "

"Callin' me fuckin' Carmen doesn't help," he snapped.

You sat up and turned to him, "You want me to be mad? Maybe I'm a little pissed off that I've barely seen my boyfriend this week! Not like you've made an effort to speak to me, but I've had a pretty shitty time at work, too - so, excuse the fuck outta me for feeling disappointed!"

"Disappointed in fucking what, Peach? In not wanting t'cuddle right now?"

"Maybe, yeah! I'm upset, stressed out, maybe I just wanted some comfort, God! Now you're all up in arms, I just wanted to go to sleep - but no, you want to pick at me!"

"Oh, Jesus, fucking Christ! You couldn't just talk to me about you having a shitty week, you gotta be laid up on me? When the fuck did you get so Goddamn clingy and desperate for fucking attention? Huh? So fucking desperate for love? Sorry you had a shitty week, darling, but you're not alone in that. Sorry if it's fucking hot and I just want to sleep."

Feeling yourself fighting a losing battle because he wasn't listening, you just sighed, "Okay, Carmen."

He scoffed again, turning over to face away from you, "Know what? Fuck you, sweetheart."

You stared at his back for a long minute, feeling shocked by his words. "You can be such a fucking dick, you know that?" You snapped, standing from bed.

"And you can be a dramatic bitch."

"Yeah, that's me, the bitch you chose, huh!?" You rolled your eyes and nodded sarcastically; taking the blanket from the end of the bed, figuring he wouldn't miss it since he was so fucking hot. With only your phone and charger, you went out to the living room and crashed on the couch; covering up and crying quietly into a pillow from the overwhelming stress built in your chest. You felt guilt plunging your stomach, tearing it apart; feeling as if it were your fault for having physical touch as a love language.

Sleep evaded you that night. About an hour before your alarm, you called in sick and shut your phone off, resettling in misery as Carmy left the bedroom for work. You didn't move, never opened your eyes. However, they popped open in surprise when Carmen shoved your shoulder, "Hey."

"What?" You muttered.

"You're late for work."

"Called in."

He snorted, "Yeah, must be nice."

You didn't say anything else, feeling utterly defeated by his sharp words. The lack of response made Carmy pause and glance over at you from the kitchen, honest surprise coloring his system because he usually knew you to bite back. But you were quiet and still, the only indication you were even alive being the slow drag of your shoulders.

He let the door slam after he left for work, and you instantly sobbed. What you didn't know was that Carmy had come back, forgetting something mundane, and came to a halt outside the door when he heard you crying. He felt guilty, but Carmy wasn't usually one to confront problems; he instead ran away, like always.

After a night of exhaustion, you finally cry yourself to sleep.

When Carmy got home that night after work, he found you still huddled on the couch. After a look around, he realized you hadn't moved all day; nothing to eat, nothing to drink... He wanted to wake you but still felt so fucking irritated from his job that the idea of reconciling with you felt far fetched. So, he did what he did best and isolated himself by going to the gym for a few hours.

You still hadn't woken up when he got back.

So, he just went to bed; hating sleeping alone but hating his pride more because it refused to let him get up and go get you. Carry you to bed. Smother you in apologies. Beg for forgiveness. He was cold that night.

You were awake around 4 am.

The entire apartment felt as cold and aloof as your boyfriend. You felt so silly for still being there, knowing you paid for an apartment of your own, but liking that Carmy's place was closer to your work. And he never asked you to leave, in fact, the times you went home, he was calling you within hours to beg you to come back because he hated sleeping alone.

Whatever happened to that lad? The one who was so in-love with you that he would desperately ask you to come "home" to him? Who was this man now? Who called you clingy, desperate... A bitch.

You could only stand to make coffee, feeling powerless in this tension. You didn't want him to ignore you any longer, feeling like you'd drop to your knees for his forgiveness if it would end this feud; but you weren't so naïve. You spent several long minutes mentally prepping yourself for more anxiety, telling yourself you could handle the day if you just powered through it. Everything should be fine so long as you didn't do anything else to upset him, as long as you didn't do anything to warrant him yelling at you - again.

You finally decided on an emotion, since you could feel so many at any given point in time, and since this situation was one you've never encountered before. Carmy had brought forth one of your biggest insecurities and then smashed it in your face like punk-ass siblings did to your birthday cake. You decided you were hurt by his words, tone, and actions; you were hurt by the man you loved unconditionally, and that was a terrifying thought on its own. He was once a man you thought couldn't do any wrong, to now being a man you were unsure of how to even speak to; fearful, as you once were as a child, to upset him and create hostility directed at you.

Carmy often forgot he didn't have a monopoly on toxic, complicated family dynamics, but being that Mikey was still so fresh for him, you kept quiet about your own issues in an effort to be a loving, supportive girlfriend. Yet even while trying not to upset anyone, to create tension, you somehow managed to. You felt your heart and soul shrivel into a withered raisin when you remembered your family and how they constantly put you down; saying that nobody wanted a girl like you who tried, tried, and tried again only to fail. They thought you were damaged goods, treated you as such and always smeared your name in the mud whenever you thought you had found someone to love you and be loved by you.

All that trauma was rearing its ugly head now, making doubt sink into the cracks of your relationship. No matter how hard he tried, Carmy couldn't ever take those words back once they've been said, and he had to understand that going forward, this would strain your relationship. Taking anger and frustration out on you was inappropriate, putting a bad taste in your mouth; making you wonder how the hell you'd ever move past this when his words circled your head like water draining from the sink.

Sometime around 9 am, you were curled up on the couch with your coffee and a book; Saturday dragging by slowly to allow you the reprieve of being off work. The bedroom door opened and you held your breath; sweat breaking out on your brow; heart stammering in your chest. When he came out, Carmy didn't look at you, which allowed you to watch him. He made a to-go cup of coffee, then shouldered his backpack before heading for the door.

"Carmy?" You asked softly in confusion, "I thought you were off today?"

"I am," he replied stiffly, "but I gotta run errands."

You didn't have time to respond before he was storming out of the apartment, slamming the door behind him. You blinked in shock, confusion plunging your heart to your feet as you realized he didn't ask you to join him, in fact, he didn't appear to want to tell you his plans until you had to ask directly when he was walking out the door. You felt terrible, more tears swelling in your eyes at the discord your boyfriend prolonged.

Something in your heart snapped and you stood from your seat. With anger coursing through your veins, you turned into a miniature tornado and quickly started gathering whatever you could get your hands on that belonged to you. You had enough, you felt hurt, yes, we established this, but then the disrespect started to overflow out of your heart to color your blood. Never linger where you're not wanted, you should never tear yourself down to that level. Never should have to second guess yourself, either - especially in a space where you're supposed to be safe.

You started to wonder: is it clingy if you made dinner and saved him a plate? Is it clingy if you did his laundry? What about cuddling? Is that clingy? Well, apparently! What else are you wrong about? If you texted him? Asked his opinion? What about if you held his hand - is that clingy, too? Probably!

Physical touch and quality time were your love languages, but after this reaction, you wondered if everything you'd do from now on would be judged? Would you be crucified for showing your love? For trying to participate in your relationship?

All day, you moved your stuff back to your apartment. All shoes, clothes, purses, make-up, haircare and skincare products - any and all period products, too. You left fucking nothing; going as far as to lay face-down the photo of your two on his bedside stand. You'd of taken it, too, but you felt sick at the thought so you left it for him. Sunday night, you didn't return to his apartment, and Carmy didn't call to say goodnight; both figuring the other was still pissed off. Your Monday was long and annoying, but once it was over, you had to admit, it was strange returning to an empty apartment, heat up leftovers, eat while watching some Netflix show, and then crashing into bed - moving mechanically.

Days passed uneventfully, albeit, a bit sluggishly. And then, Thursday arrived, and with it, the shit that would hit the fan.

You were enraptured in this book by Anne Tyler called "Dinner At The Homesick Restaurant," and couldn't stop reading it. You nursed a mug of tea, the outside darkening with an approaching thunderstorm that would talk to you in the silence and send bolts of lightning to illuminate the city. A shrill ringtone then played, making you jump slightly and glance at your phone only to see Carmy's contact name and photo.

You stare at your phone for a long moment, and then, after convincing yourself that ignoring him would only add fuel to the fire, answered quietly, "Hello?"

"Peach? Hey, uh... Are you, um, still at work?"

"No?"

"Where are you, then?"

"I'm home."

"No, you're not."

"Yes, I am."

"I'm standing right here and you're not, baby, unless you got superpowers or something?" He chuckled nervously, hearing nothing on your end. "In fact, I, uh... I don't see any of your things. You move 'em?"

He'd never admit it, but your personal touch in his living space transformed it into a home; and now that they were all gone, he hated how cold, dreary, and grey the apartment felt.

"Carmy, I mean my home. You know? The apartment I still pay for?"

"Oh, well... Why're you there?"

"Why wouldn't I be? I had to bring my stuff back and leave it somewhere safe."

"It was safe here, Peach," he argued.

"Yeah, but it's your space and last thing I need is to be yelled at and insulted again for being clingy 'cause I left clothes at your apartment."

"Fuc'k's sake," You heard him hiss under his breath, bringing tears to your eyes. "You know I don't mind, I want you to leave shit here so it's easier on you to commute. Look, you know it's Thursday, right? Does our standing date night ring any bells?"

"Okay, but we haven't honored that in weeks? You know, 'cause you've been really busy."

"I thought we could get back into it tonight."

You sighed, turning the page in your book, "No, I don't think so, but thanks anyway."

He took a long pause, asking nervously, "What's wrong, Peach?"

"Nothing. Is there anything else, Carmen? I'm in the middle of shit."

"Oh, uh, n-no, I guess that's it. You comin' over tomorrow?"

"No. I told my brother I'd help him this weekend."

"But tomorrow's... Friday?"

"Yeah, that's how a calendar works. I have to travel to get to him," you scoffed.

"You didn't think to tell me?"

"Why would I?"

"You tell me everything! You don't think that's something I should know? That my girl's not even gonna be here this weekend?"

"Well, you're the one who said I was fucking clingy, remember!?" You finally snapped. "So, I'm giving you all that space you wanted!"

"Baby - "

"No, it's a great idea. We need space, Carmen; this isn't fair to either of us anymore," you spoke seriously, the line going quiet.

"What?"

"We need space from this relationship."

"I don't. I don't need space, Peach, baby, no, just listen, okay? I'm so sorry, I came home stressed out and I took it out on you. I'm sorry, I really am, this isn't what I want. Okay? I'm sorry. Just - come back home and we can - "

"No, you know what? I think I'm the one who needs this space," you snapped. "You said some pretty fucked up things, Carmen, that you can't ever take back, and now that I know, I can't un-know what you think about me. So, I need time to sort myself out."

"What're you saying? A-Are you breaking up with me?"

"Not yet, no."

"Baby, don't do this. C'mon, okay? I'm sorry, baby, I-I-I was wrong for what I said, I didn't - I didn't mean it! None of it, okay? Know I love you, baby, please, just come home, okay? I'm so sorry, I love that you wanna be close to me, I shouldn't've pushed you away. I'm sorry, okay? Please, baby, I'm so sorry. I need you, Peach, please. Just come home, we'll talk it through, I promise, no yelling - "

"I think you already said it all. Your words were 'clingy' and 'desperate'. Oh, and you also called me a 'bitch', so, I'd hate to be the bitch that makes your already stressful life all the harder."

"I didn't mean that - "

"I gotta go, Carmen, we'll talk later, okay? Goodnight."

He froze when he listened to those three distinct beeps that indicated you hung up on him. Confusion and hurt now seeped into the cracks of Carmy's heart; wondering when the hell he'd become so Goddamn self destructive to ruin the best thing he's ever had - you. The apartment might as well turned into ice with the way the light left, your departure suddenly haunting him.

When will these boys learn? The love of a good woman is rare, they'd only ever be so lucky as to think they deserve a woman like you. Nobody ever gets to guilt you for your love language(s) and then grovel for forgiveness. You deserve better, you deserve more; whether you could see that right now or not, you deserved to be loved in the best way for you. And sometimes, that means walking away from something you once thought was exactly what you wanted, but perhaps, never what you needed - call that God's Plan.

[ part two: ] Two to Tango

requesting rules and masterlist

The Bear masterlist

Clingy Baby collection masterlist

[spacedace]

So I have an idea for a dp x dc fic and I'm going to throw it here since i need to get it out of my head and i'm not sure i'll ever actually write it (and as always if anyone finds my rambles interesting any/all of it us up for grabs to run with):

Elle ends up crashing into the DC universe while exploring, but despite all the dimension/multivariate nonsense that always goes down (or maybe because of it) she can't actually get back, and the levels of ectoplasm are a lot lower than most dimensions which weakens her quite a bit.

There's enough for her to survive, and use her powers a little bit, but using them too much makes her get really weak/maybe even causes serious harm depending on how much she uses.

She finds this out when she tries to open a portal home and both fails to open the portal & passes out as a result of trying. Cut to Elle waking up in Cadmus and realizing "ah, fucked up unethical science, I am familiar with this fuckery" and escapes.

In the process of escaping she comes across Kon, who isn't "finished" yet. He's alive and aged up to a teenager, but isn't quite done with his programming/whatever (this idea came to me based entirely off what I've gleaned through fandom so I don't know the canon of Kon's whole time with Cadmus). Elle immediately realizes "Oh clone baby, that's not good" and breaks him out and takes him with her.

Kon in this doesn't know he's a clone of Superman, he doesn't know a lot of things considering how early into the clone info-dumling process he was in when Elle broke him out. He barely knows language and how to read. What he does know for sure though is that Cadmus is Bad and Getting the Fuck Out is Good so he's down to go with Elle

Queue them becoming friends and being on the run together, learning about this world/dimension together and coming to see each other as family. Eventually they end up in Gotham because it's one of the places that naturally has a higher ectopalsm level and because if you're in the right area no one cares if you have no legal ID (in some circles it's a plus).

Kon gets a lot of odd jobs before eventually ending up working at a strip club or burlesque bar or something (my idea is that it's years after escaping so he's in his early 20s at this point and not just a fresh baby clone anymore and he gets into it because he likes it and it's good money) while Elle uses her ghostly knowledge/what powers she can to work as like a psychic or something like that.

Meanwhile Justice League (with alive again Superman) have found out about the escaped Superman clone and, along with Cadmus, are desperately trying to track him down. The info they have is a bit murky, so they think it's actually *two* clones, one that had Martian dnd also thrown in to the mix based off a short clip they managed to find of Elle phasing through walls.

My idea is that it'd all finally come to a head when Constantine pulls Tim (and maybe also Damian) in on a JL Dark case that involves the Lazerus Pit and for reasons ends up having to hire Elle to help. I'm thinking it's a thing that Elle is a pretty respected name in certain magic circles due to her expert knowledge on the Infinite Realms, though she refuses to work for most people who seek her out - even though the money would be good - because usually it's only evil assholes that want to hire her.

She makes a deal with Jon to help (in exchange for something that would let her get a message to Danny letting him know what happened or something like that) and Kon joins in because there's no way he's trusting a dude Elle calls the "drunk soul slut" with his baby sister unattended, he doesn't *care* if she could handle herself it's not happening.

Anyway, Tim/Kon (and maybe some Damian/Elle) shenanigans during a Lazerus Pit/demon hunting road trip where eventually everyone figures out who Kon & Elle are, Elle manages to get a stable portal setup so she can go home and come back whenever she wants (Kon getting adopted by Danny? Kon getting adopted by Danny) and Kon joining Young Justice and having a good relationship with Clark (who had a lot more time to deal with things before meeting Kon and learned about him as a person before learning he was Clark's clone).

Anyway there would be a scene at the end where Kon would be in his superhero suit for the first time and just:

Clark: Did you choose a hero name yet?

Kon: Yeah, I figured I'd go with Supernova.

Clark, feeling touched: Yeah? Any particular reason?

Kon: It's cool, it has 'Super' in the name, and really it just seemed the easiest option, I'm used to responding to Nova, so *shrugs*

Clark: Yeah? Why's that? Nickname?

Kon: I guess kinda? It's my stage name at the strip club I work at

Clark: what

Tim, brain shut down by this revelation: ...do you do private shows?

Clark: w h a t

[diamondcitydarlin]

diving back into msscribe lore made me remember this; imo one of the funniest things about the My Immortal fanfic is the context to which it was born in the HP fandom at the time. In the early 2000's, HP fandom was a veritable arms race of who could write 'the best' most 'sophisticated' HP fanfic and the BNFs (Cassandra Clare, for example) were elevated to their pedestals because they were seen as the most talented fic writers. There were pissing contests, passive-aggressive comments about so-and-so being 'a mediocre fic writer' just shared between supposed 'friends', like one's popularity currency absolutely depended on whether or not the fandom deemed one's writing 'good enough'. Everyone was trying to be the goddamn idk Jane Austen of HP fandom pretty much. Even by 2006 (and msscribe's fall from grace, if you even care lol) this was still more or less the case- so the fact that this absolute unrepentantly bad HP fanfic came out during that time, the fact that Tara just kept posting chapters and doubling-down on people's criticisms and abject horror, the fact that this fanfic gave NO FUCKS about spelling, grammar, keeping characters intact, or even the original context of HP at all makes My Immortal's existence so much funnier than it already is on its lonesome. My Immortal was a slap in the fucking face to the entire established system and it reveled in being so.

Tellingly, I think, most people online today aren't going to know those 'popular', supremely 'well-written' fics off the top of their head, but even some IRL people I've talked with know and love My Immortal. Hell, Tom Felton has read it for his IG! Amy Lee either read or reacted to it a few of years back! It has it's own wikipedia, countless illustrations, works inspired by it and a cult following even today! I can't say the same for any of those fanfics that came before!

Whether My Immortal was a skilled troll or an unapologetic teenage girl that was going to write whatever the hell she wanted to, goddamn it, doesn't really matter because the effect was the same. Maybe remember that the next time you're agonizing over whether or not your writing is 'good enough'. Sometimes, it doesn't even need to be.

[rallamajoop]

An absurdly detailed analysis of That One Soldat Photo

Hang around wintersberg fandom long enough, and you'll likely run into a popular crack-theory that, since Heisenberg obviously thinks that building a set of huge, yellow-painted signposts is a good way to point Ethan to the Stronghold, maybe it's Heisenberg who's been leaving all those handy, yellow-painted supply crates all over the place for Ethan to find! It's exactly the kind of fun nonsense I'd enjoy if it didn't feel folks are starting to take it a little too literally (by which I mean I have now read multiple fics in which it's played completely straight ‒ and, like, people do get that it's just a crack theory, right? Like, why would Heisenberg have left so many yellow crates around his own damn factory? Look, you don't have to explain every last game mechanic, not everything is lore!)

But as anyone reading my own fic would know, I'm guilty of echoing the idea that Heisenberg-was-leaving-stuff-for-Ethan myself ‒ just not because of any yellow-striped crates. No, I'm way more interested in this one weird soldat-photo you can find in the village ‒ long hours before you'll ever see your first Soldat in the flesh...

Very creepy. And if you turn it over, you'll find a clue to a puzzle you'll have to solve in order to progress.

(And of course, when you do look out the window, odds are you'll get jump-scared by a lycan just when you're focused on the numbers, because RE8 loves that sort of misdirection ‒ but I digress.)

Anyway, the code you can see out the window will open a safe containing a jack handle you'll need to move a vehicle in the village, as well as the M1911 pistol (which will very likely be your go-to handgun for the rest of the game). The game is full of conveniently-helpful clues like that (heck, most games are), often with no obvious Watsonian justification. And there are other photos around the village ‒ Luiza has a whole photo album ‒ but photos of experiments created by Miranda and her lords don't generally turn up outside their own territory.

For a player exploring the village for the first time, that photo is a lovely little bit of foreshadowing, hinting at monsters and factory stages to come. But on replaying with full knowledge of Heisenberg's later attempts to get Ethan on his side, that Soldat photo is just enough to make you go, huh... did Heisenberg leave that for Ethan? Like, on purpose?

You can find another copy of that photo later, in Heisenberg's factory, along with his notes on his early series Soldat experiments. Which doesn't really prove anything beyond the fact that assets exist to be reused... but it does at least make it pretty canon that Heisenberg has photos of his Soldats sitting around.

Possibly also significant: both the clue photo and the factory documents are tagged 'geekmemo' in the game files. Most everything related to Heisenberg in the files is labeled 'geek'-something ‒ it seems to be an early nickname for his character that lasted well into production. Everything in the factory is geek-something, even the model for the passageway from the altar to the bridge is labeled 'pathtogeek'. Considering that so many soldat-related assets are already labeled 'geek', maybe that 'geekmemo' tag doesn't really tell us anything we don't already know ‒ but it certainly doesn't work against the idea that Heisenberg wrote that 'memo' himself.

Besides, it's not like there isn't precedent for this kind of thing. RE7 had a whole mechanic where you'd have to find 'treasure photos' pointing out the location of a few rare and useful items, all with "I hid something here" written on the back. We're never explicitly told who left those photos lying around, but it's obviously Lucas: he loves playing games, he loves taunting prisoners with the possibility of escape, and who else would it be? The complete population of the Baker mansion is like 6 people and a bunch of semi-sentient mould.

Over in RE8, there are a lot more village resident who might have left that clue lying around. Like it or not though, Heisenberg is very much RE8's equivalent of Lucas: the family's wildcard show-boater who loves making Ethan jump through hoops for his amusement. So how does the game let us know it was Heisenberg who left this particular clue? Well, who else would leave a message on the back of a Soldat photo?

There's may be additional supporting evidence Heisenberg could be involved ‒ most notably the location, being a locked-off cul-de-sac labeled 'Workshop' on signs and maps. The area is full of metal junk very much like you'll later see lying around the factory.

The workshop location does have other relevance ‒ it makes sense that you'd find the jack handle in the village workshop, whether Heisenberg was involved or not. But it also stands to reason that if there's anywhere in the village proper where Heisenberg might hang around and leave clues for Ethan, the workshop is it. And you have to admit that leaving Ethan useful stuff in a safe along with an easy clue that will likely get him jumped by a lycan is 100% more in-character for the guy than just leaving useful stuff out in the open, even if it doesn't really prove anything either.

There's one more weird-little does-this-mean-anything detail: there are three dead crows near the safe too.

It's not the first time in the game you've seen dead crows (there were a bunch outside the village, and I've talked about what that might mean in the context of Miranda's cult before). But I don't remember finding any others around the village itself, other than in this one spot. And instead of being hung from trees like a ritual sacrifice, these ones are just dead ‒ messily, and with blood everywhere.

Now, maybe it doesn't mean anything, but is there anyone in the village more likely to vent his frustrations by violently killing a few of Mother Miranda's avian avatars than Heisenberg? I'd think not.

In conclusion: I still don't think all those yellow crates have anything to do with Heisenberg. And I still don't know for sure whether the RE8 development team wanted me to assume that Heisenberg left Ethan that photo, jack handle and gun. I don't know if we're supposed to read that Heisenberg keeps a workshop in the village and sometimes kills crows out of spite. But the evidence sure does point that way ‒ and it's as valid an interpretation as anything else you might take from this game.

[dairy-farmer]

Was thinking about what would happens if an author on Ao3 I loved died and their subscribed readers never knew why they stopped uploading. I mean it happens all the time for various reasons not just on Ao3 either. People grown out of interests. Life gets in the way or something as simple as getting locked out of an account.

There was that Stan ((maybe a swifty or Arianna fan on twitter maybe?!)) account that went to prison and posted to say they wouldn’t be active for a while a few years ago and everyone was joking about it. Or another example; that famous screenshot of a blog saying ‘ sorry I haven’t been posting I got diagnosed with bpd and I take meds now and I don’t like BTS anymore’ or something like that.

I just think it’s hilarious and Ao3 authors are kinda knows for being comically unbotherd. Like ‘sorry I didn’t upload this week, my house burnt down’. Or something that crazy. I know it’s a running joke but think it a great prompt for identify porn.

Like Tim as a huge Batman and robin fan with unsupervised internet access definitely had read and subscribed to all kinds or ao3 content. Maybe one of his fav Batman authors stops updating there ongoing fic randomly dispite having weekly uploads. Turns out the updates stopped the week Jason Todd died. Tim never figured it out or maybe he does or just has a hunch about it. No wonder he likes the writer so much they always had such an accurate depiction of the Batman and his dynamics with others. Tim liked that this author wrote Crackfics that put Batman in the stupidest situations, or wrote the most heartbreaking sentimental masterpiece about love and found family and robin and Batman’s dynamic 😍🥰😩

Either way I bet Jason never touched our thought about it again after comping back to life pretty much blocking it from his brain and pretending it never happened.

Tim on the other hand though about their work years and years later even after becoming robin would go back to that authors page and wonder what happened :(

//

Or later in life Tim being a writer/blogger/art account* with a big following and being alarmingliy honest when he updates his like;

‘sorry this is late :( got kidnapped again’

‘Not going to post next week bc I think someone is planning on bombing my school”

‘Update early today because I won’t be in a good mood later because I have to fire some people in a meeting this afternoon. Yes I’m a CEO’

‘Sorry ending this story because I’m depressed again bc my dad died. #officiallyanorphan’

‘Quick one shot that came to me in a fever dream while I was recovering from a stab wound’

*((obviously in the hero fandom, who are we kidding)the weirder and more obscure the better like he likes to draw Condiment King making out with different JL members. And exclusive writes batcest))

People LOVE his stuff and he gains fans anda reputation for posting very accurate and high quality stuff. People make fan pages and discussion his posts and works. His occult following notice he has a tendency to accurately predict things like Bane bomings and Arkham breakouts. They know he’s obviously a Gothomite and people like that they don’t know who he is. Either way he’s a Gotham legend in his own right.

Or maybe he has several different accounts non of them linked

I just love to imagine little Timmy becoming famous/gaining notorotiry in different ways over the year for different reason without people knowing it’s all the same person

He’s a child actor/model/ comercial baby 👼- (your au)

He’s an omen to criminals, a ghost a legend. A sighing of him means Batman is close by ((little Timmy with his camera running around at night)🥷 -(another of yours I think)

He gives anonymous tips to the GPD the news and the general public about rogue attacks to keep pls safe.🕵️‍♂️

ROBIN obviously. 🦸‍♂️

He’s a twitter art account 🧑‍🎨

Maybe has a porn account too! 🥴

A tumblr conspiracy theorist 🧑‍🏫

An Ao3 author 👨‍💻

Hes also Timothy Drake COE and Gothams youngest Bachelor 🕴️

He maybe even streams with his face covered on twitch or something stupid👾

All of these different identities have a huge fan base and no one ever knows that Tim is like famous 10 time over. Then he goes looking for Bruce after his ‘death’ and all his followers from separate fan bases are like :(((( oh no he probably died in a Gotham attack!! 😫😭 bc Gotham



so i actually do have an answer for the first part of your ask! there's such a thing as a fannish next of kin on ao3! where you can choose someone and they can get access to your account after you're incapacitated or pass away!

but tim becoming famous like a million times, some of which the family knows about and some of which they don't (like when he became the poster child for no man's and they're all so wild and different only a handful of people on the internet probably put it together. im also losing it at the idea of tim being known for 'predicting' things in gotham with his fics because it reminds me of this meme:

the idea that some fic author is managing to accurately predict bad things happening in gotham BEFORE they happen 😭 tim getting kidnapped because some shitty criminal was paying too much attention to fan forums and actually ended up believing the 'this fic author can see the future'. tim absolutely beats the shit out of them before anyone notices he's gone so it doesn't get discovered why he was kidnapped because he'd never live it down.

and the baby tim as a commercial/little tv star au!!❤️❤️❤️ i love that au so much but i can't take credit for it, it was actually created by orlovbats on twitter!!!!

also the tim as an omen also isn't mine- i don't think i recognize it either but the closest thing i found was this tumblr post so i think this is what you may have been thinking of?

i LOVE the thought that time never stopped being a fanboy- he just got better at hiding it because he knew he'd be teased ❤️!

[colubrina]

idk if you have a TikTok or if you keep up with the HP fandom over there; but apparently manacled by SenLinYu was posted on Amazon for purchase (not by the author). It’s since been removed but was up for more than a couple days. And there were individuals on TikTok that just didnt understand why others were getting so upset. Like let’s disregard the fact that someone other than the original author profiting off this work, but I actually saw people that were very firm in the belief that they could sell fanfic. Whether that be through book binds, cases like this, or commissions/Patreon. I’m an elder gen Z, and I remember coming into the fanfiction spaces pretty early on maybe like 07-08?? I think I was 9-10 reading HP fics on fanfiction.net and very vividly remember everyone being super specific about “this is not my sandbox, I’m just playing around” or “If you recognize anything, it doesn’t belong to me”. So I’m always surprised by people that really don’t see a problem with it. I’ve even seen people claim that it will either fall within the limits of fair use or that it would be a PR nightmare for someone to go after someone. I guess I was 1.) just wanting to rant about how shortsighted I think it was to someone that was around in fanfic space before 2015 and 2.) get thoughts from an author that I feel like has had several popular/successful fics in the fandom.

Yeah, I've got a TikTok. I never post anything, but I try to share anything people make that's nice about my old fics. I always have this half-assed feeling like I should make things but I don't. (https://www.tiktok.com/@colubrina_)

2. Congrats to Senlinyu on her book deal - very cool!

3. And yeah, I saw that people were doing that, and I wish I was surprised but I'm not. There's always been a not-insignificant part of the dramione fandom that sees the fics as 'belonging to the fandom.' They will post them on sites where the author doesn't want them. They will host PDFs online even when you directly ask them not to. They will rehost fics authors have taken down, orphaning them on AO3 so they can't be stopped. They don't see it as stealing because they see the fics as public property. It was probably just a matter of time before they started trying to host them on Amazon. It's frustrating for sure, but it does feel a bit like 'here we go again.' It certainly doesn't fall under fair use, and I think Manacled might be one of the very few fics that will have a legal department eager to keep it offline so the publisher can make their money from it, but other people will be less fortunate. Fic has become enough of a part of the ecosystem it's not at any kind of risk as an artform. But, yeah, it sucks. Be nice to your authors. Respect their wishes. Don't do this shit.

[zenkindoflove]

Thank you <3

Now that Pull Me in Deeper is over, I wanted to take some time to thank a lot of people. Writing and posting this fic has been an amazing experience for me. It has changed me as a writer in so many ways, and I couldn't have done any of it without the support of so many people along the way.

(warning: overly emotional sappy rambling. I'm sorry if I forgot someone!!! to be honest, so many people have been supportive of me and popped in and out of this experience and you all have left an impression)

First, I wanted to tell you guys a little bit about my experience writing this fic.

I had never written Canon x OC before I created Alexius in Summer Heat. I've primarily been an OTP fic writer, focusing on one couple per fandom that I would fixate on. When I started Summer Heat, I really wanted to explore as a side story of Eris in a relationship, and for me, the only person who kept popping up was someone like Alexius. Summer Heat was a safe zone to play around because I got to develop him and his relationship with Eris while still focusing on Elucien. When Summer Heat was over, I got the idea to write Pull Me in Deeper because I wanted to explore whether Eris x Alexius would be able to carry their own story on their own, and I wanted to challenge myself by writing a fic that mostly contained original characters.

There was a lot about this experience that was new and challenging. Writing only Canon x Canon ships and those that were really popular in fandoms did not prepare me for some of the trials and tribulations that come with writing Canon x OC fics. You often feel like you are on your own island, separate but adjacent to the fandom. You hope that people on their boats passing by will stop and visit you. Maybe stay a while. Sometimes, I will admit, I felt lonely, especially in the early days of writing this story. I went from a very built in community of shippers who loved the ship for the ship and we could squee together about how adorable our OTP was - to basically trying to convince people that Alexius was a worthy partner for Eris and worth taking a chance on reading about him. So I gained a whole new respect for the Canon x OC parts of the fandom, and I'm happy I can count myself among you now.

To say it frankly, I've grown so attached to Alexius and his relationship with Eris over these last several months. He is very real for me now. You really can't spend this much time living inside of a character's head and being committed to their HEA and not adore them. Not only is he a representation of so many people in this world that I love, but he also has given me so much confidence in my ability to create original characters. In the past, when I have sat down and tried to writing original fiction instead of fanfiction, what always held me back was creating characters that felt like real people. After Alexius, I feel sure now I know how to do that, and for that, Alexius will always be my baby. Please know, as long as I'm writing ACOTAR fanfics, Alexius will be in them and there will be more in store in the future for Eris x Alexius centered fics (more than there already are lol). Eris x Alexius is my Eris OTP and now that I have the Eris bug, I won't be stopping.

Okay now to shoutout some specific people:

@crazy-ache - You have always been there for me in every stage of my ACOTAR fanfic writing process. Thank you for telling me early on, when I felt guilty for this fic expanding so much and taking so much of my focus, that it was okay for me to branch off in this direction and leave Elucien on the shelf for a while. I really needed to hear that then. And thank you for always being up for reading my first drafts, brainstorming through scenarios and plot, and just being my cheerleader. I love you, and I really cannot ask for a better writing partner and friend.

@lucienarcheron - The very first time I ever had the instinct to write Eris with an OC, I ran to you for advice. You trekked this path long before many, many people, and you have been instrumental in me taking a chance. Especially seeing all the hard work and focus you've put into Spirit Meets the Bones really inspired me to want to write an Eris x Alexius solo fic. So thank you so much for being an Eris x OC mentor of mine.

@thrumbolt, @works-of-heart, @bonecarversbestie, @little-fierling - Thank you so much for creating fanart either of Eris x Alexius or inspo from this fic. You all have also been such amazing commenters on the fic itself, leaving insightful, smart, and hilarious feedback. It's so rewarding to have readers who are driven to create based on something you made. And it really helped me in times when I've been down or unsure of myself, that there were people out there who thought enough about my fic that it inspired creativity in them.

@olenvasynyt - your long comments and even longer voice notes that you've left me in DMs have been such a treasure. I especially love the head canons and little snippets you have shared with me about your own Male OC that you have created for Eris. It's such a small community that we are in, and I really can't wait to meet him too. I love that we both have such a strong love for the Autumn Court and creating OCs.

There was quite a few people who started reading PMID because they were familiar with my Elucien fics and got to know Erixius in Summer Heat. I really appreciate all of you who migrated over and decided to go on this adventure with me!

I also had a group of people who really surprised me joining on and reading this fic, and that is the Azris shippers. @the-darkestminds, @jules-writes-stories, @mistandmemories, @constantsins I have ] always enjoyed your expressive, thoughtful, and analytical comments and words of encouragement you have given me. I especially want to shout out @the-darkestminds because I really do think that you helped my audience grow. If you weren't reblogging my chapter updates, a lot of people who are interested in reading about gay Eris wouldn't have seen my fics at all. In my head, Azris shippers only gave this a try because they love you and your work so much. They trust your tastes so they felt if you liked this fic, maybe they would like it too. You have always been such a good friend to me (especially tolerating me even though I don't like Azriel lmao) and I can't thank you enough.

I also want to thank a lot of people who have been with me throughout this entire journey, reblogging my fic and leaving amazingly thoughtful and inspiring comments on my chapters: @clockwork-ashes, @what-about-elvenis, @lovely-vanserra-sunshine, @teddyhoneybear, and all of the people on AO3 who I don't know if you're on tumblr! Comments are everything to a writer, and please know that anytime I received a comment from you, it made me want to write the next chapter so see what you would think about the rest of the story.

There have a lot been a lot of people who have liked/reblogged/or occasionally stopped by to chat with me about this fic or Alexius as a character. While I can't list everyone, please know if you reached out to me, I was always so moved and excited to talk to you. And anytime you want to talk to me about these characters, please do not hesitate!

I know this is very extra - but I really felt it was appropriate to get this sentimental about this fic compared to others. I really put a lot of myself into this story, and the emotional journey and growth as a writer I went on felt like I needed to give back to all of the people who were there encouraging me to not give up. Thank you, thank you, thank you!

[batobbsession]

i promise i do like Tim guys :(

This is probably my most unpopular opinion as a Tim stan who spends a lot of time in the parts of the fandom that constantly talk about Tim, but this fandom has a habit of making Tim "better" than he actually is and it hurts his character in the end. Anways, i'm going to make a list.

There are so many characters that we never get to see because of him. We only get to see Jack and Janet Drake as abusive because the fandom decided that they were bad parents. We only get to see Ra's al Ghul when he's obsessed with Tim. Damian rarely gets proper fanfics about his early days as Robin or Dick's time as Batman because all those fanfics are about Tim.

The way a lot of this fandom treats him gives of special snowflake vibes and I admit I do read those fics but I feel like a lot of people write him that way because that's the only characterization of Tim they know. It's honestly unrealistic that he managed to stalk highly trained bats as a young child and take photos. I joke about it too, but he canonically has the strongest morals out of all the batboys and canon makes a big deal about the fact that he didn't kill anyone while blowing up buildings. I like these tropes, I read them and all that but they kind of take me out when they're in serious fanfics.

Probably the most unpopular one but I think fanon is doing Tim a disservice by not holding him accountable for anything and villainizing other characters for him. Like people refusing to acknowledge that Tim was very rude to Damian when they first met. The whole mess with him become Red Robin was a good example of that. Canon was a mess too but basically went like this: Tim insists Bruce is alive for no real reason, Damian becomes Robin for a multitude of reasons I won't talk about now, Dick suggests Tim gets a therapist, Tim gets mad and leaves despite efforts otherwise, Dick later finds actual evidence and the all make up. If Tim had stayed in Gotham nothing would have changed because honestly it probably would have been easier for him to find most of the evidence. This is probably the one trope I won't read because it seems insane to act like Dick was crazy for not believing him and he was ostracized from the family despite the fact that he pretty much choose this way. If Tim wanted to stay with the family so much maybe he should have done that while Dick was asking him too and offering him help?

Anyways you guys can ignore this if you want to and if you have a counter point your welcoming to say it

[scoobydoodean]

what’s your opinion on “lebanon”? as it actually is in the show and how fans/fic writers interpret/approach it.

cause i’ve been binge-reading “lebanon” fics and i’ve noticed two patterns: sam might argue with john or he stays calm but regardless he preaches to dean about what a terrible father john was, and dean always falls back into his performing and just keeps defending john. now i love all that angst, really i love it so much, these fics are phenomenally written… but i’m just wondering if i’m crazy to think that dean wouldn’t actually fall back into that role to such an extent, and whether the episode actually kinda got it right by having dean feel secure with his family as it is. iirc my issue with the episode is that neither dean nor sam got to express any issues with john in an honest but civil way (and that john is too nice) but that still i liked dean’s expression of security, but tbh it’s been awhile since i last watched it so maybe i’m missing/misremembering smth… thanks!

One of the strangest things I see in fandom is how many people's sense of how Sam views John versus how Dean views John is just flat out wrong. The idea that Dean is always defending John while Sam is always criticizing him the whole show is negated over and over and over in the actual show itself—extremely overtly.

There's two issues here in my mind that lend to this fandom problem.

The fandom accepting Sam and Dean's "John Narratives" at face value in the early episodes of season 1. For example, watching 1.08 "Bugs", where Dean claims to have no resentments toward John and says Sam also was a dick during Sam and John's fight, and going, "Well there we go. Dean has no resentments and refuses to criticize John but Sam will." At this point, we already know from 1.06 "Skin" that Dean does have resentments toward John for not appearing to care about him and for abandoning him, and we get further indications in 1.11, and 1.21 in this season alone. Another example is Sam and Dean's clashes in 1.10 "Asylum" and in 1.11 "Scarecrow", which are largely analyzed by the fandom as moments where Dean is blindly following orders when they have some other, better option Sam is pushing, and Dean is just refusing to go along with Sam's much better ideas because he's too focused on believing their dad knows best... when that is not actually what is happening at all. Sam's alternative plans in the beginning of 1.10 and 1.11 are absolutely stupid. In 1.10, he wants to call the FBI on John to find him. That's his big idea—instead of following the coordinates John just sent them and seeing if he's there. In 1.11, Sam's big bright idea on finding John is to abandon some people to die on a time-sensitive case so he can go search all of Sacramento for John with nothing but an area code. His plans are dumb, plain and simple—and while we do see Dean hiding his own resentments in these episodes too, that does not remain true—which brings me to the other issue here.

Fandom doesn't leave room for the brothers perspectives on John and their outward expressions of those perspectives to shift or mature over the series. This is particularly funny because their perspectives are literally swapping over the course of season 1, and have pretty much fully swapped by 2.02.

Sam's shifting season 1 perspective on John

What actually happens in season 1, is that Sam, who starts out burning with resentment and hurt toward John for disowning him and being a smothering drill sergeant and absent, binge-drinking dad, slowly begins empathizing him because he's now suffered a similar trauma and is having extreme difficulty coping with it himself! Sam's empathy for and understanding of John (and hell—even respect for John handling it as well as Sam thinks he was capable) is already beginning to show in 1.02—where Sam asks Dean "How does Dad do it?" (i.e., deal with the same burning rage and desperation for vengeance that is tearing Sam apart) (gifset). In 1.04, he learns John was bragging about Sam's accomplishments to other people (gifset). In 1.08, when Dean tells Sam that John was never actually disappointed in him—that he was scared Sam would get hurt if he wasn't around (gifset here) a lot of Sam's anger about the Stanford fight fades. He ends the episode saying "Dad did the best he could" (a repeated quote often misattributed as coming more from Dean) and saying he wants to find him to apologize to him for the things he said (gifset). John and Sam share a heartfelt, tearful hug in 1.16—at the end of which Sam begs John not to leave, and in 1.20, John himself apologizes and explains what was going on in his head when they fought, and it ends with them smiling and laughing as they acknowledge they understand each other and they're the same. I track Sam and John's relationship through the tag, #we probably have a lot more in common than just about anyone because Sam says that during that conversation in 1.20 (gifset).

Dean's shifting season 1 perspective on John

At the same time this shift is happening in Sam, we see Dean going the exact opposite direction. He starts out believing John has their best interest at heart even if they don't understand his actions, but the resentment is there too (1.06). In 1.09 and in 1.12, Dean needs help desperately, and John doesn't answer. While Sam is learning that John actually cares about him, Dean is growing more and more concerned that John doesn't care about him (Dean) specifically. We see this resentment start to come out (season 1 compilation set here) in 1.20, when John says he wants to keep the boys safe and that's why he's ditching them, and Dean calls it "A bunch of crap". Dean begins standing up to John to his face from this episode onward—finishing 1.20 with a "Yeah well we saved your ass" in response to John saying they disobeyed him. In 1.21, John tries to get on his case, and Dean lays into him about not answering the phone and specifically about abandoning Dean when Dean needed him in 1.09 and 1.12. In 1.22, Sam tries to get his way by telling Dean that John wouldn't want them to bring The Colt to save him, and Dean yells "I don't care what Dad wants!" and then when Sam starts throwing the blame on him for everything, Dean says,

Well, you and Dad are a lot more alike than I thought, you know that? You both can’t wait to sacrifice yourself for this thing. But you know what? I’m gonna be the one to bury you. You’re selfish, you know that? You don’t care about anything but revenge.

Dean has compared Sam and John more than once during the series, and it has never ever been a compliment.

Sam and Dean in the rest of the series

Sam and Dean's interactions about John in rest of the series are... almost universally the opposite of what the fanfics you've picked up suggest. Their interactions almost always show Dean criticizing John and Sam keeping silent or defending him, or reiterating that John did what he had to/the best he could.

Gifset on Dean's whole season 2 "Fuck John Winchester" vibe here.

In 2.01, Dean shouts at John for (it appears) abandoning him to die:

DEAN Come on, Dad. You've gotta help me. I've gotta get better, I've gotta get back in there. I mean, you haven't called a soul for help. You haven't even tried. Aren't you going to do anything? Aren't you even going to say anything? I've done everything you have ever asked me. Everything. I have given everything I've ever had. And you're just going to sit there and you're going to watch me die? I mean, what the hell kind of father are you?

Sam and John have a horrible fight where John blames him for Dean's condition and Sam tells him to go to Hell only for him to make a demon deal and literally go to Hell that same day (gifset) and Sam tries to start another fight right before John dies but John refuses to engage (gifset). The result ends up being that Sam and Dean have fully swapped places on John by 2.02 with John's death as the catalyst. John's death leaves Sam with regrets that their last interaction was Sam trying to start a fight (2.02). He decides he wants to hunt in John's memory (2.02) (gifset1, gifset2) while a part of Dean desperately wants to quit the life altogether—he's clawing the walls but feels helplessly trapped (2.09, 2.10, 2.20).

Sam defends John while Dean suggests John lead them down the wrong path with a dogmatic rule book (2.03). He demands they go to Lawrence so he can place John's dog tags over Mary's grave (2.04). He spends the season regurgitating John's orders, pushing Dean to do what John told him to do (2.11, 2.14, 2.20) while Dean wants to quit the life (2.09, 2.10, 2.20) and burns with anger toward John. In 2.10, Dean says "I wish to god he'd never opened his mouth!" about John.

In 2.11 "Playthings":

SAM (shoving DEAN to face him) Dean! Dad told you to do it, you have to. DEAN Yeah, well, Dad's an ass! (SAM frowns in confusion) He never should have said anything! I mean, you don't do that, you don't, you don't lay that kind of crap on your kids! SAM No. He was right to say it! Who knows what I might become? Even now, everyone around me dies!

We see Dean seething with resentment while Sam defends John's orders and tries to enforce them on Dean, carrying the legacy of their father in more ways than one.

Over and over, we get indications that a part of John treated Dean as disposable while he sheltered Sam, and that Dean is increasingly aware of the impact that's difference has had on him—to the point he realizes his father's neglect and abuse is the reason he isn't fighting to save himself in 3.10 "Dream A Little Dream Of Me". Dean and John's relationship is intentionally paralleled with a physically abusive relationship between a father and son in this same episode (gifset, meta), and in this episode, Dean rejects his father as an "obsessed bastard", calls Bobby his father (gifset), and decides from this point forward, he's going to fight to save himself from his demon deal because fuck John Winchester.

DREAM DEAN Dad knew who you really were. A good soldier and nothing else. Daddy's blunt little instrument. Your own father didn't care whether you lived or died. Why should you? DEAN Son of a bitch! My father was an obsessed bastard! All that crap he dumped on me, about protecting Sam! That was his crap! He's the one who couldn't protect his family! He– who wasn't there for Sam! I always was! He wasn't fair! I didn't deserve what he put on me! And I don't deserve to go to Hell!

And yeah! Dean also still loves John! And more than that—he craves John's protection. We see this in 3.14 "Long Distance Call" when the Crocotta calls to Dean as John from beyond the grave, telling Dean exactly what Dean wants to hear: "I never wanted this. Never. You're my boy, I love you. I can't watch you to go to hell, Dean," and telling Dean he can save him. This is pure longing for the love and protection Dean has always desired from John but feels like he's never received. Instead, he's always felt disposable.

In season 4? Oh boy... we get this incredible bit in 4.10 between Dean and Anna:

ANNA I was stationed on earth 2,000 years. Just... watching... silent... invisible... out on the road... sick for home... waiting on orders from an unknowable father I can't begin to understand. So don't tell me that -- DEAN laughs. ANNA What is so funny? What? DEAN Nothing. Sorry. It's just...I can relate.

Then in after meeting Adam in 4.19, Sam and Dean have a fight about whether to bring Adam hunting with them or leave him to a normal life:

DEAN 'Hunting is life. You can't have connections.' Dad gave you that exact same speech, remember? It was just before you ditched us for Stanford. You hated Dad for saying that stuff, and now you're quoting him? SAM Yeah, well, turns out Dad was right. DEAN Since when? SAM Since always. Dean, when I look at Adam, you know what I see? DEAN A normal kid. SAM No. Meat. Because the demons and monsters out there, that's all he is. I hated Dad for a long time. I did. But now I think I understand. So we didn't have a dog and a white picket fence. So what? Dad did right by us. He taught us how to protect ourselves. Adam deserves the same. DEAN Listen to yourself, man. SAM You think I’m wrong? DEAN I think it's too late for us. This is our life. This is who we are, okay? And it's fine. I accept that. But with Adam, he's still got a chance, man. He can go to school. He could be a doctor.

Sam says John did right by them. Dean thinks he absolutely didn't, but they can't change who they are now—they can only keep others from falling down the same path.

At the end of the episode? Oh boy...

DEAN You know, I finally get why you and Dad butted heads so much. You two were practically the same person. SAM looks over. DEAN I mean, I worshipped the guy, you know? I dressed like him, I acted like him, I listen to the same music. But you were more like him than I will ever be. And I see that now. SAM I'll take that as a compliment. DEAN You take it any way you want.

It is NOT a compliment.

In 5.16, Dean is confronted with god's intentional absence, and burning with resentment, says to Joshua,

Forget it. Just another dead-beat dad with a bunch of excuses, right. I’m used to that. I’ll muddle through.

In 5.13, Sam takes the opportunity presented to him by young John's presence to defend their father and tell John that he forgives him (gifset).

JOHN Look, how long have you known about this...hunting stuff? SAM Pretty much forever. My dad raised me in it. JOHN You're serious? Who the hell does that to a kid? SAM Well, I mean, for the record, Mary's parents did. JOHN I don't care. You know, what kind of irresponsible bastard lets a child anywhere near—Y-you know, you could've been killed! SAM I, uh...came kind of close. SAM laughs. JOHN The number it must've done on your head...Your father was supposed to protect you. SAM He was trying. He died trying. Believe me. SAM sits down on the bench under a window. SAM I used to be mad at him. I—I mean, I used to... I used to hate the guy. But now I—I... I get it. He was...just doing the best he could. And he was trying to keep it together in—in—in this impossible situation. See... My mom, um... She was amazing, beautiful, and she was the love of his life. And she got killed. And...I think he would have gone crazy if he didn't do something. Truth is, um, my dad died before I got to tell him that I understand why he did what he did. And I forgive him for what it did to us. I do. And I just—I love him.

What Lebanon does is present Sam with the opportunity to reiterate his forgiveness toward a John who understands the context:

SAM Dad… for me? That fight… that was a lifetime ago. I don’t even remember what I said, and – I mean… yeah. You know what? You did some messed-up things. But I don’t… I mean, when I think about you… [voice breaks] and I think about you a lot… I don’t think about our – our fights. I think about you… I think about you on the floor of that hospital. And I think about how I never got to say goodbye. JOHN Sam. Son. I am so sorry. SAM I’m sorry, too. But you did your best, dad. You – you fought for us, and you loved us, and… that’s enough.

So yeah! The fanfic narrative here where Sam is Mr. "Dad was bad" and Dean is Mr. "Nooo dad did the best he could" IS ABSOLUTE NONSENSE!!!!!

[her-satanic-wiles]

Dawn Chorus - VI

Dracopia x Fallen Angel!Reader

When you question the Almighty for a third time, you find yourself on the run and escaping a horde of wrathful angels ready to punish you for your insolence. Whose garden should you fall into than Cardinal Copia’s? And he has more nefarious plans for you.

Masterlist ⛧ Commissioned by anonymous ⛧ Series Masterlist

Words: 6.2k.

Reading Time: 25 min.

Warnings: body horror, falling from heights, graphic depictions of thanatophobia, graphic (yet brief) descent into madness, graphic injuries, mentions of death, mentions of conversion therapy, mentions of experimentation on living things, mentions of femicide, mentions of homophobia, mentions of sexual abuse within the church, mentions of stoning, mild sexism, religious disillusionment, religious trauma, slut shaming

Taglist: @da-rulah @teenage-birt-dag @akayuki56 @dopey-fandom-girl @ravensbars @copiaspet622 @onlyhereforghost @ultrahalloweengirl @ad-astra-per-aspera-1976 @dolceterzo @whitepawfics @howlingco @sirianisrock

🔞 MDNI 🔞

As this fic is quite dark, I'm choosing to rate it 21+. Please respect my decision. Thank you.

“It burned down!?”

Your lamenting voice howled through the eaves of the Cardinal’s room, laced with so much shock, you had to place the pages on the floor and stare at the Cardinal. He was sat at his desk, typing on his computer (a device he taught you about after your trip to the library, but he never let you touch). He was in his pajamas and robe again, hair freshly tousled from a day of sleep, and face entirely free of make up, stubble present on his chin where he hadn’t shaved and felt no inclination to. The Cardinal laughed - laughed at your sorrow upon learning the Library of Alexandria had been destroyed in the early 1st Century after the birth of Yeshua.

You saw the Cardinal’s shoulders shake as he cackled at your misfortune, turning to look at you with mirth in his eyes. The tragedy was far enough away from him that it didn’t bother him, but to you it was devastating.

“How could thou laugh in such a moment?” You asked, much more stressed than before.

“Now, now, Angel,” the Cardinal said, his tone still lighthearted but showing a sense of underlying warning, “you forget yourself.”

You sighed and pouted, looking down at the floor. “It doth grieve me sorely. Who would commit such a deed?”

“Christians.”

Your stomach dropped and you looked back up at him. “I beg your pardon?”

He nodded, “Christians. Well, there’s no proof but, Christianity was rising at the time, and they’d gone on a warpath, so to speak. And while there’s no proof they did it, doesn’t mean they didn’t do it. Christianity has done a lot to the human race since you left, and they’ve caused a lot of hurt and destruction, and now the people in the highest positions of power are using Christianity and Catholicism as a way to control the masses and exert their power, even today.

“They were particularly rowdy in the 4th and 5th Centuries, though,” he continued, “when the religion became more popular and spread amongst the people. Thousands of people died, mostly women, because the ‘pagan’ lives they lived were sinful and they needed to be stopped. A woman couldn’t be in control of her own body, feel her own sexuality. She must be oppressed.”

“Hypatia.” You muttered.

You remembered hearing about her death what felt like a short time ago, but according to the Cardinal, it happened over 1,000 years ago. Hypatia was the smartest woman of her time - a genius among men. It was sold to you in Heaven that a rogue group of His children stoned her to death for conspiracies against the Almighty, but you never learned the specifics. After all the questioning you’d done thus far, it dawned on you in that moment that maybe her death was unjustified just as your exile was from Heaven.

The Cardinal spoke again, “Jezebel, Venus, even Mary Magdalene.”

Your mouth widened. “Not Mary.”

“Yes, Mary. They look at her like a common whore, and not the wife of Jesus. They don’t revere her as she deserves.”

“This is not what the Almighty had ordained.”

The Cardinal shrugged. “Well, it’s what happened. That Bible you took from the library is riddled with vile hatred and disgust. Leviticus 18:22: ‘Thou shalt not lie with mankind, as with womankind: it is abomination.’”

You furrowed your brow. “That seems amiss. The Almighty would never have decreed such a judgment.”

It was true, he never explicitly said anything of the sort. You knew firsthand that even Yeshua dabbled in… well… love in all its forms. Everyone knew, but no one talked about it. You found it difficult to believe that the Almighty would condemn his own son to Hell, just because he loved everyone equally.

“It was changed, do you know what from?” The Cardinal asked.

You shook your head.

“‘Man shall not lie with young boys as he does with women.’ It’s pretty interesting that Leviticus was changed like that when the clergy of the Church were starting to get reported on their inappropriate behaviour with children.”

A flash of recognition appeared in your eyes, and the Cardinal caught it.

“You know about that?” He had his full attention on you now, and you could feel the tension bubbling under the surface.

You swallowed, “I did so. And I did question the archangels. And now I am present in this place.” Answering honestly was the only way you felt like he wouldn’t hurt you. His gaze was steely and harsh, but softened a little when he heard your words.

“They kicked you out for it?”

You nodded. “It was the third occasion I dared to query the Almighty. They intended to cast me into the Abyss, hence I fled and stumbled into thy garden. And then thou…” you trailed off and caught the guilt that flooded the Cardinal’s face. You cleared your throat, “Thou didst subject me to all manner of torment, and at times I found myself yearning for the Abyss.”

“You never told me about this.” He said, quietly.

“Thou never inquired - thou was consumed with querying me regarding His designs and how to govern me. And, truth be told, I know not why I am disclosing this to thee now.”

“Well,” he sighed and stood, “you’re not out of the woods yet. So don’t go feeling comfortable.” And with that, he walked away.

There was a sadness to his voice that hadn’t been there before, and you found yourself wondering why it was there in the first place. Your stomach dropped at the realisation, though, that whatever torment you’d faced before, you’d face again. Would it be at the Cardinal’s hand? Would he be the one to administer the blows despite the kindness he’d shown you since he crossed that boundary? Or was it the Sister who wanted so desperately to hurt you? You couldn’t fathom that the Cardinal still hadn’t told her about his discovery. You knew that he’d even hidden the book from her, but you couldn’t understand why.

Your conversation with the Cardinal had left you feeling less than resolved about your position with the Almighty, and worse, with His children. Until now, you were sure His children were innocents in comparison to the clergymen who’d abused their station, but there was something gnawing away at you now that told you the rest of His children sounded just as bad as the ones in charge of His words. But, you didn’t know who could be trusted.

The Cardinal had stolen you, hurt you in unimaginable ways, imprisoned you inhumanely, drained you of your blood to the brink of death for his own enjoyment and consummation, and followed Lucifer, echoing his calls for the dark and becoming a mirror of Lucifer’s hatred for the Almighty. Perhaps he was mistaken? Lead astray by an evildoer with an ulterior motive. Perhaps he could be redeemed, and cured of his vampyrism? But why were you concerned with his soul when he’d done so much to you? His kindness wasn’t without reason - a person couldn’t change that quickly with no reason to. And you were sure he wasn’t trying to better himself on your account. And after Thomas…

But what if he was telling the truth? What if the Lord’s children were simply acting on the Creator’s wishes, doing what they’d been bidden just as you had? As though they weren’t in control of themselves just as you weren’t.

The scariest part was that you were beginning to see things from Lucifer’s perspective. You were starting to understand why he did what he did, falling so far from grace and establishing his own rules within the mortal realm, gaining more and more followers than he ever had just by merely existing. Thomas had told you the Satanic Church hadn’t needed to advertise in the same way the Catholics and Christians did - they just simply existed, and did so peacefully. It was the Christians who did all the advertising for them, and pushing their own people into Lucifer’s arms, and now you knew it was all the oppression they faced.

Those who followed in Yeshua’s footsteps, who loved unconditionally, as humans were programmed to do, were shunned from society, turned out onto the streets by their own families, subjected to torture to ‘cure’ them from a condition that never ailed them in the first place. And, in more extreme cases, they were imprisoned and executed for their ‘crimes’ and ‘indecency’, despite the fact that the son of the Lord they followed was hailed, praised and revered for the love he showed his brothers - and the people who surrounded him.

It was this revelation that helped you see the irony: the Satanists were more closely following the teachings of Yeshua than the Catholics and Christians were, who were the ones that held him in the highest regard. It was this revelation that made you see that if Yeshua were alive today, he’d have been killed or thrown out before he reached his thirtieth year; and it terrified you.

You sighed, your mind ached with the thoughts that were swirling around inside it. Your stomach churned with the notion that God’s creations were straying more and more into the path of evil than of righteousness, despite their hard work to get into the Kingdom of Heaven after they died. You felt woozy and weak, as though you were plagued with a sickness that incapacitated you. This existential spiral you found yourself falling into began because you learned your favourite library had burned to the ground, and perhaps at the hands of early Christians, and the Cardinal hadn’t even bothered to tell you why. You lay down on the floor, your wings cocooning you like they had when you were trapped in the cage, and curled in on yourself, trying to bring yourself a semblence of comfort despite your mind creating turmoil inside itself, the disappointment and shame eating away at you until you wondered if anything was left.

You slept; you didn’t know how long for, only that daylight was pouring into the room underneath the thick curtains when you woke, and you felt so, so cold. You stood and stretched, feeling a little off-kilter as you reached your full height. You stretched your wings out, too, trying desperately to shake the ache out of the muscles. They felt heavier than normal today. Angel wings were heavy given their size, practically spanning the entire length of your body and even dragging a little on the floor.

You wandered into the Cardinal’s room, silently staring at him as he slept; tucked up in his bed and barely visible beneath the sheets. You didn’t know why you came in, but you were there now. Your eyes roamed over the room and landed on the curtains. You could do it… you could open them and send him back down to his creator where he belonged. You could bathe the room in sunlight and watch him burn to death.

You didn’t think, you just walked over to the curtains and placed both of your hands on the fabric as it met in the middle. You looked over at him, his wrinkled face pressed up against the pillowcase as he slept peacefully, unaware that he was in mortal danger from his pet who’d finally worked herself up to bite back. You lifted the corner, and a trickle of sunlight poured into the room.

Do it.

Your arms froze.

Why are you hesitating? Do it!

It didn’t matter how much you tried to pull the curtains back and flood the room with the warmth of the sun, you couldn’t do it. You couldn’t bring yourself to move at all, let alone even push the curtains back in their place.

“My Lord,” you said under your breath, “grant me Thy strength, that I may vanquish the wicked, cast him back into Hell where he rightfully belongs. Permit me to undertake this task for Thee, to repent, to atone for my transgressions, and to welcome me into Thy grace, where my true calling lies.”

You longed to feel His light envelop you and give you the strength to complete the task at hand, but it didn’t matter how much you prayed, how much of your energy you devoted to Him, He never answered your call. The part of you that still believed in His worthiness told yourself that this was your true punishment: to live with the monster who treated you like an animal despite the kindness that lay beneath the surface, the monster who hurt and betrayed you as if his life depended on it with no concept of your own thoughts, feelings and emotions until he took it a step too far out of his own comfort zone. A monster who did it once, and would willingly do it all again if his previous comment was to be taken seriously.

You’re not out of the woods yet. So don’t go feeling comfortable.

Those words echoed in your mind like the haunting melodies of the church hymns you’d sang to yourself while you were alone in the Cardinal’s apartments, sending shivers up and down your spine and instilling a low-lying sense of fear within your gut. You could end it all now, you should end it all now. You were born a killing machine for the Lord, so this was nothing new. And yet, the hesitation and the lack of movement felt too much to bear in your clouded mind, and before you knew it, you took a step back, letting go of the thick curtains and staring at your hands in disbelief.

The old you wouldn’t have hesitated. The old you would have sent him to the very pits of Hell and told yourself that justice was served. But how could there be justice when the judge ignored the case, and left the prosecution and defendant to rot in the courthouse together until a solution was reached outside of the law? The old you would have acted on her feelings, but the old you died when she fell from Heaven, and was kidnapped by a crazy vampyre with an angel blood addiction.

When the Cardinal woke, he found you sat in the armchair in front of your cage, eyes wide and distant. The chair had been turned to face the cage that held your halo in it, and your eyes were fixed on the part of your body that you’d not touched since your escape. You didn’t move, nor blink, nor acknowledge him when he spoke to you. You just stared with a vacant expression at the one part of you that you could see but not touch. No poking, prodding, or waving his hand in front of your eyes could get you to look at him, or snap out of your trance.

He stood back and thought for a moment, his own inner turmoil eating away at him. Though, you’d never see it. The half of him that listened to the Sister told him to just leave you be, that it didn’t matter if you were broken because maybe you’d be more useful. But he’d grown soft in the time he’d spent with you, and for some reason, it pained him to see you like this.

He stormed through his room, pulling open his bedside drawer and moving stacks of papers out of the way to get to Lorenzo Giovanni’s book, knowing that there would be something in there to explain what this was. He opened the spine and flicked through the pages, skim-reading bulks of text to try and find the information he needed. With each page he turned, and with each passage that he waded through, he began to lose his patience. How could something so crucial take so long to find? Surely it would have its own dedicated chapter?

Eventually, he found what he was looking for:

‘Angels who have been deprived of their halos for extended durations enter a frenzied state in a final endeavour to safeguard their lives. An angel bereft of their halo, with every passing moment, diminishes in their Holy Light. They need not eat nor drink like mere mortals, rather, Holy Light is what sustains an angel’s vitality and vigour. Although an angel may endure without their halo, they must replenish their Light regularly to prevent wasting away and perishing.

‘However, an angel possessing their halo is robust and can only be subdued by metal forged in the fires of Hell. The chamber in which I studied this was imbued with such material, from the nails in the floor to the very structure of the room. Yet, even as I restored the angel’s halo, I persisted in keeping them restrained, as a precaution to safeguard my life and my research. It effectively subdued the angel, allowing me to remove the halo once their Light had been replenished. Take heed, denizens of the nocturnal realm. My infernal assistant met his demise when he gazed into the angel’s eyes, for the brilliance of the Holy Light proved overpowering for one of such lowly station.’

The Cardinal thought back to that time when you’d asked him for your halo, and how he’d denied your request. At the time, he assumed that you were just hoping to get your halo back and make a run for it - he didn’t realise that you were losing your strength. He’d read this book a while ago, but hardly any of the information retained in his brain because… why would it? He never thought he’d meet an angel let alone capture one. Yet there you were, going manic in his chair because you were, in essence, on your last legs.

He grabbed some Hellfire chains and tied you to the chair as best as he could, trying to make absolutely sure that you weren’t going to escape, or worse, kill him. When he was prepared, he unlocked the cage that your halo sat in, noticing the light had dwindled significantly in comparison to when he first saw it all those nights ago, and once his gloves were securely in place, he carefully took it in his hands and brought it over to you. He didn’t know what to do because Giovanni didn’t say in his book… conveniently. So instead he just placed your halo on your head and took many steps back and hid behind his open door. He wasn’t a low-level Hell dweller by any stretch of the imagination, but he was sensitive to light, and wasn’t willing to risk death.

Nothing happened.

He peered round the wood to look at you and was about to leave his hiding spot when suddenly the room filled with a great, white light, so bright it had him hide behind the door immediately. Everything he owned was bathed within your holy light, so much so it felt like his eyes were an over-exposed camera taking outdoor shots. He could barely make out the grain details on the door in front of him, and it was only a few centimetres away from his nose.

He wasn’t sure if it was actual pain, or just his imagination playing tricks on him, but he could swear he felt his skin prickle at the brightness, a light burn as if he’d been stung by oil when cooking. He shut his eyes tightly, trying to avoid his retinas burning out of his eye sockets, not that he knew that would happen, but, for the first time in a very long time, he was scared. It wasn’t so much death that scared him, he’d died before. He remembered the way his body went numb as the vampyric venom engulfed his cells and shut every single unnecessary one down; the way his body convulsed as his blood heated and his stomach withered and blackened; the ache in his bones as his body weight drastically fluctuated from dead muscle to resuscitated, all within the hour.

He remembered how he watched the same thing happen to his mother.

No, it wasn’t death itself he was afraid of, more like the method in which he met his permanent end. He knew how dangerous angels could be to creatures of the night such as himself, how a single tear could burn through his skin like holy water did. Not to mention the weakness to light, holy light included. You were a killing machine, despite your protests, and there were a number of ways you could ensure his death, effortlessly in some cases. You terrified him, yet thrilled him. Like a charmer playing with a poisonous snake, like adrenaline junkies jumping from planes.

You were too weak when you first met to be considered a true threat - but now your Holy Light had returned… now you were a potential threat.

Everything felt different when you opened your eyes, blinking the light out of them. Your body was mended, bones strong and muscles sharp and ready to move at a moment’s notice. Your mind was clear… well, clearer than it had been. You felt whole, complete, normal.

You surveyed the room with newfound clarity, your vision unobstructed by the haze of weakness that had clouded your senses before. When you listened, you could hear things happening from kilometres away, you could hear the wind rustling through the trees outside as though you were standing directly beneath them. You could smell the food cooking in the kitchens below, despite them being nowhere near your room. You could even smell the honey that was created in the hives outside. The familiar tinkling of your halo distracted you, and you almost panicked when you looked to the cage to find your halo was missing, only to realise it was currently on your head.

You tried to fight against the chains, but the Hellfire burned with each movement, you had to stop.

The Cardinal cowered behind the door, his fear palpable in the air. It amused you, the contrast between his bravado and vulnerability now laid bare. You could smell him, taste the fear that bubbled up in his chest, hear his heart rhythmically pumping as the sweat began to form on his brow. It wasn’t until the entirety of your holy light had dissipated, you finally saw him poke his head around the edge of the door. His eyes were trained on your halo, and kept flickering between it and other parts of your body, wary of looking you in your eyes. This time, you weren’t stupid. This time you knew why he dodged your eyes, and knew it would be that way for a while until he felt safe enough to challenge you again. You felt powerful, yet you were entirely unable to do anything about it.

The Cardinal walked over to you and immediately removed your halo from your head, practically throwing it back into the cage. Not a single word was uttered and it didn’t need to be - but when the door to your own cage opened, you knew you would be in there for some time.

Days passed, and the Cardinal didn’t return home for the majority of them. Again, you didn’t know where he was, just that he was avoiding you for fear of his own life. The notion that he was scared sat well with you, to the point where you were almost content being caged.

Almost.

The amount of time you’d spent out of it, free and happy had allowed you to taste somewhat what you used to have. The anger that bubbled inside of you was terrifying, even for you. Each passing second simply added to your frustration, and your imprisonment served as a continual reminder of your powerlessness. You yearned to be free of the cage that held you, to unleash the full might of your divine strength on those who had harmed you. But try as you may, the Hellfire-forged bars remained solid, their scorching heat acting as a harsh barrier to any attempts at escape.

Despite your rage and fury, a spark of resolution flickered within you. You refused to give in to despair and accept your fate as imposed by others. No, you promised to recapture your independence, to break free from the chains that held you back and establish a new way ahead. And, while the Cardinal may have believed he ruled over or underestimated you, he would soon realise his grievous mistake. For you were more than simply an angel; you were a force to be reckoned with, a being of unrivalled strength and resilience. Especially now that you had your strength back.

As the Cardinal eventually entered the room, his demeanour revealed a sense of sheepishness that contrasted sharply with his normal confidence. His eyes darted anxiously about the room, avoiding direct contact with yours, as if he was afraid of what he may discover. Despite his best efforts to appear collected, he radiated an unmistakable air of unease.

You looked at him with a mixture of wonder and caution, unsure what to make of his unexpected return. You’d had plenty of time to stew in your wrath and resentment during your seclusion, and now that you were back in the Cardinal’s company, you were conflicted between a desire for vengeance and a cautious hope for peace.

The Cardinal cleared his throat awkwardly, shuffling his feet as he approached your cage. His hands fidgeted nervously at his sides, betraying the inner turmoil that churned beneath his composed exterior. It was clear that he had something to say, yet finding the right words seemed to elude him.

After a moment of tense silence, he finally spoke, his voice tinged with an unfamiliar vulnerability. “You can come out now.”

With a grateful nod, you acknowledged his gesture and took a step forward, loving the sudden freedom that engulfed you like a warm embrace. The air seemed crisper outside your prison, and you spread your wings, savouring the rush of freedom that ran through your veins.

As you stepped out of the cage, the weight of confinement lifted off your shoulders, you couldn’t help but notice the Cardinal’s refusal to meet your eyes. His avoidance of eye contact communicated volumes, exposing a vulnerability rarely seen in the powerful person before you. “Will thou not cast thine eyes upon me?”

He looked at you, if only briefly, before looking away again. “Sister Imperator wants to try the second ritual this week during the full moon.” He told you.

But as you returned your attention to the Cardinal, you couldn’t ignore the tension that hovered in the air between you. His comments concerning (who you assumed to be) the Sister’s plans for the next ceremony just added to the severity of the situation, reminding you of the dangerous balance that existed within the Satanic Church.

“I understand,” you said evenly, your tone laced with resignation. Despite your unwillingness to embrace the truth of your situation, you understood Sister Imperator’s intentions were not to be underestimated. The notion of another ceremony made you nervous, but you knew you had no choice but to comply with her requests. “Dost thou not desire it to come to pass?”

“I’ll need some more of your blood before the second ritual,” he said, closing the cage behind you and making a move, “but now that you’re fully healed, we have time.”

“What doth the second rite entail?”

He didn’t answer, another question he chose to dodge.

You sighed, “Would thou permit me to partake in at least one flight until then?”

“One. Tomorrow. But you take a few ghouls up with you to make sure you don’t escape.”

You nodded, reluctantly accepting the Cardinal’s requirements. Despite the constraints imposed on you, the idea of a single flight provided a ray of hope amid the oppressive confines of your imprisonment.

As the Cardinal exited the room, leaving you alone once more, you couldn’t help but feel a sensation of unease creeping along the borders of your consciousness. His elusive comments and hidden plans further added to your suspicions, leading you to wonder about the true nature of the second ceremony and your part in carrying it out.

In reality, you knew what the second ritual entailed, but you wanted him to tell you. It was the ritual of temptation. They would orchestrate scenarios designed to appeal to your desires and weaknesses, tempting you to stray from the path of righteousness. Through manipulation and deceit, they would slowly lead you down a darker path, enticing you with promises of power and gratification. But there was a part of you that wondered what they’d use to tempt you so much as to complete their goal. You didn’t want anything enough to be tempted. Except… your freedom.

Would they really gamble the possibility of letting you go free in order to get what they wanted? Quite possibly.

The next day arrived. The thought of flying dangled before you like a tantalising treasure, and you eagerly awaited the set hour, your excitement growing with each passing moment. When the time came, the Cardinal returned to his chambers with a retinue of ghouls waiting to accompany you on your little excursion.

You followed the Cardinal outside, the cold breeze caressing your feathers and rousing your soul’s need for freedom. A wave of unease passed over you as you readied yourself to take off and saw the Cardinal fastening another chain around your wrists. The weight of the metal seemed like an anchor, straining at your spirits and serving as a sharp reminder of the restrictions that still held you back, even in the middle of your newfound happiness.

“This is an extra precaution,” the Cardinal told you, “just in case.”

You scoffed, offended. “Thinkest thou I would soar without my halo?”

“This was the only way I could get Imperator to agree,” the Cardinal responded, his voice much more curt and annoyed, “take it or leave it.”

“Fine.” You huffed.

With a deep breath, you unfurled your wings and launched yourself into the air, relishing the sensation of weightlessness as you soared through the sky. For a blissful moment, you allowed yourself to forget the constraints of your captivity, losing yourself in the exhilarating freedom of flight. The world below stretched out before you, a vast tapestry of earth and sky unfolding in all directions. You barely noticed the two ghouls that flew alongside you, their enlarged bat wings flapping quickly to keep up with you.

With each tremendous beat of your wings, you felt a rush of adrenaline coursing through your veins, propelling you higher and higher into the limitless expanse of the sky. The weight of your worldly concerns vanished as you soared through the air, supported by the gentle currents that took you upward.

As you ascended, the earth below seemed to fade away, its wide expanse unfolding beneath you like a sprawling canvas painted in green and gold. The distant horizon beckoned with the promise of adventure, while the vast expanse of sky stretched out in front of you like a limitless playground, asking you to explore every corner.

As you danced among the clouds, you felt a sense of lightness flood over you, as if the essence of your being had been liberated from its earthly confines. Each inhalation filled your lungs with the crisp, clean air of the sky, giving you a renewed sense of vitality and purpose.

The landscape took on a dreamy character, your senses heightened by the pure exhilaration of freedom. The wind whispered sweet nothings in your ears as it danced through your feathers, while the sun showered your skin in golden light, filling you with warmth and contentment.

Beside you, the two ghouls flew with effortless grace, their bat-like wings beating in perfect harmony with your own. Together, you formed a symphony of motion, a testament to the boundless beauty and majesty of the natural world.

For a fleeting moment, you allowed yourself to forget the trials and tribulations that awaited you on the ground below, losing yourself in the timeless ecstasy of flight. In that moment, you were truly free, unbound by the constraints of your captivity, and liberated by the boundless expanse of the sky.

As you basked in the joy of flying, you couldn’t help but notice a slight but unsettling tremor in your wings. At first, you ignored it as a passing sensation, a blip in your otherwise immaculate performance. However, as you continued to soar into the sky, your shaking became more severe, causing your wings to waver and stutter with greater frequency.

It had been so long since you last flew, so long since you properly used your wings. And like most things in the human body, you either use it or lose it. You’d never gone this long without taking flight, didn’t know that your wings would become unused to the constant flapping and carrying your weight. You tried to push passed the feeling, tried to force your wings to get used to it.

However, with each wavering flutter of your wings, a flood of fear clutched your heart, threatening to shatter the illusion of freedom that had surrounded you. You battled to stay aloft, fighting the inevitable pull of gravity that threatened to bring you back down to earth.

For a little while, doubt entered your head, clouding your thoughts with uncertainty. Had you been too acclimated to the constraints of your imprisonment, too dependent on the security of solid earth beneath your feet? Was it only a matter of time before your feeble wings regained their power and resilience?

As you reluctantly chose to descend, a gnawing sense of unease gnawed at the borders of your awareness. Despite your best efforts to ignore your mounting anxiety, a foreboding sensation of dread hung over you like a suffocating blanket.

The trembling in your wings were more noticeable with each passing instant, sending waves of panic through your veins. You could feel the muscles in your wings spasm and cramp, a stinging pain piercing your body with each faltering beat.

Desperation clawed at your chest as you struggled to keep control, but it was a losing battle against the never-ending barrage of pain and tiredness. Tears of frustration clouded your eyes as you tried to maintain your altitude, turning your once elegant flight into a sloppy, unpredictable plummet.

In a heartbreaking moment of terror, you stretched out to the nearest ghoul, your shaking hand urgently searching for help. Despite your best efforts, your fingers fell short, gripping only empty air as you plunged to the ground below.

Time appeared to slow to a halt as you hurtled towards the ground, the wind blowing passed your ears in a deafening roar. In that quick instant, you felt tremendous sadness mixed with the sharp sting of failure, your mind casting back to the last time you fell so far, your body on fire and screaming as you were cast out of Heaven. You were reminded of the mob that chased you, the pain that covered you as you made contact with the ground, and the horrors that followed. You could feel your chest and throat vibrating - you must have been screaming, though you couldn’t hear that. Just the wind.

You crashed with the hard dirt with a terrible thud, sending a searing shock of pain through your body. The blow took the breath out of your lungs, leaving you gasping for oxygen as darkness threatened to devour you.

Through the veil of pain and disorientation, you could just hear the ghouls’ frantic yells as they hurried to your side, their voices reverberating in the back of your mind. But it was too late: the damage had been done, and you were left to face the brutal truth of your unsuccessful flight.

As the ghouls swiftly removed your damaged body from the ground, their hands soft yet forceful, you could feel the scorching heat of your tears scalding your cheeks, a bitter memory of the misery that had consumed your body. Each movement sent a spike of anguish through your limbs, an unrelenting assault that threatened to overpower your senses.

Your cries rang through the air, creating a terrible melody of anguish and sorrow that broke the silence of the surrounding environment. Sweat beaded your forehead along with tears, a sign of the severe mental and physical anguish you were going through.

In the chaos of the moment, none noticed as the tear landed upon the exposed skin of one of the ghouls, a faint sizzle accompanied by a sharp hiss of pain.

The ghoul recoiled in agony, clutching at the burned patch of skin where your tear had made contact. The area reddened and blistered almost instantly, the intense heat searing through flesh and leaving behind a trail of charred tissue. With a guttural cry, the injured ghoul let go of you and stumbled backward, his features contorted in pain beneath his mask as he struggled to compose himself.

The other ghouls looked at their injured friend with concern, their gaze bouncing between him and you as they tried to process what had just happened. The air became tight, filled with unsaid questions and anxiety as they exchanged uneasy glances, yet they still continued to drag you inside, this time making sure their skin was hidden beneath their clothes.

In the faint light of the Cardinal’s apartments, you lay on the cold stone floor, your body tortured with pain as your limbs gradually healed. Each passing instant felt like an eternity as you waited for the agony to end, a silent plea for relief that went unanswered.

And you were overcome with a sense of dread that covered you like a heavy blanket as you lay there in the strange silence of the chamber. The events of the day weighed heavily on your soul, putting a cloud of doubt over your future and forcing you to confront the brutal reality of your own weakness.

Prev./Next

[sequinsmile-x]

Is not the fact that we are hating on pregnancy. Is the fact that you write Emily as a typical mediocre person who settles down to have children and thats her only goal in life. That’s so out of character for Emily she will never settle down to having kids and a husband like all those mediocre women. With her upbringing she would be achieving for bigger and better things. Is Frankly annoying to have you write her as a typical mediocre character

ok this is wild on so many levels.

A) no one is forcing you to read anything. ever. so...just don't read it.

B) early on it's made clear that Emily did want to have children. For one reason or another, that didn't happen. But it's within her character that she wants those things. Even in the original ending of CM she is looking to move to be with her boyfriend and his child.

If anything, who she ends up becoming is sad to me personally. She essentially becomes her mother. Yes, she's strong. She's amazing. But she's doing a political job (something she truly does hate in canon. she says it repeatedly.) And it's almost a cruel twist of irony that she ends up by herself, doing a job that she's fucking excellent at but would have, in my opinion, never chosen when she was younger.

C) I have never, in my life, met a woman who is mediocre. No matter what her choices are. Whether she as a career, or is a stay at home mother. Whether she has a career AND a family. Which, by the way, is what I have Emily do in 99.99% of my fics.

So maybe you need to reflect a little on how you view women and their choices and sit in that for a minute. Because that sounds like something you need to work on.

Ultimately, this is fanfiction. As @eyesontheskyline always says - we're playing with dolls.

I've been writing about them having a nice, happy family (albeit with bumps along the way) for close to four years now. Because thats what I think they deserved. And it's what I like to write because it's a nice reminder that in this horrible, awful world that nice things exist. And sometimes, just sometimes, a happy ending is possible.

I guess what I'm saying is, if you don't like what I'm writing, don't read it. Don't send rude, anon, messages to me and simply just go away.

I'm not one to often big myself up. I'm a walking pile of anxiety. But I write the vast majority of the fanfic in this fandom. I do this for free. I use a LOT of my spare time doing this.

If I keep getting messages like this, this will no longer be fun for me. And as soon as the negative outweighs the good I am out.

Don't bite the hand that feeds you.

[accio-victuuri]

(13) Fake Rumors - from the vault

I have been going through some old rumors from the fake house & decided to share some. whether these may be new to you or not, but i hope you still enjoy them as much as I did looking back. I feel like in the fandom, we’ve only ever been active when it comes to lrlg and the 49 fakes. the rest of the information that fall in between aren’t as talked about or depends on the topic. as with all other bjyx material, i want a place to store some parts of it. 🤍

these are sort of random, the ones that I had saved and found again. treat it all as fiction.

( someone please make an AU fic or edit for this xz and wyb. there is a story here. look at them. 😍😍😍 )

i have traveled a long way, you have dreamed a long time. many lonely nights drift like fallen leaves but it always finds a way….🍃🍂

(1) this one was posted for the new year 🎉

XZ: Get me a courier later

🧔‍♂️:Okay

====

🧔‍♂️:What is it? It’s so light

XZ: made-up parts, Legos.

*XZ talking to a staff so he can send out some lego parts. I think it’s light because what he is sending are “parts” that WYB is missing and he found them for him. I truly like the idea of XZ spoiling WYB when it comes to his hobbies and him being invested in it too even if he isn’t necessarily a fan too. true love! and well, reminded me of the rumored lego set gift during the early days of cql filming.

(2) have you eaten?

About the backstage live broadcast of a recent event on the same stage

WYB:Have you eaten yet?

XZ: *shakes head*

WYB: Come have dinner with me later

XZ: Who else? (Looking over it, I don’t know what I’m looking for)

WYB: Stop looking for it. I’ll send it to you next time.

Supplement: Teacher W watched Teacher X take off his makeup before leaving together.

*The usual WYB making sure that XZ eats and him waiting for his gege so they can eat with each other. Even after the CQL filming, as long as they are at the same event they will try and be together. Tho instances of that have been so rare to 0 nowadays because of the amount of eyes on them.

(3) the forbidden book lol

The crew's study period

WYB: Where is the erotic book? I want to read it.

XZ: Suddenly got up and left.

*This is one of my faves even if it’s so short! Library Pavilion behind the scenes & rumors is the gift that keeps on giving. I wouldn’t put it pass WYB to troll ZZ with this.

Here’s a GIF for you to bring you back to that time🤍

(4) call me maybe? 📱

There was a period last year where everyone had to learn rap, usually🐂 learned the fastest but he was absent-minded that time🐂 was looking at us eating delicious food while resting, it seems that he is thinking his rap, he seemed to be even more tired. At this time, staff handed over the phone and he left immediately to pick it up.

He called him, and when he came back he didn't have any special expression, but he felt refreshed. 

(5) praising

WYB: I really like to be praised by everyone and feel "wow" from everyone, so every time Da Zhen's family praises me crazily, I will secretly write it down and send it to him.

XZ: I am also a part-time praise captain. Every time I praise,None of them are the same.He can often keep up with the facts.

WYB: I don’t understand a lot of Internet slang.

XZ: I always hurt him by saying, "No, you don't even know this joke, so WYB doesn't go online?" Just. very good. Laughing, every time I feel hurt, I secretly say "He is better than me. I'm young, I know everything." What kind of tone is this? One time during a video, XZ sang "Darling, come and save me." Seeing WYB's ears slowly become red and coughed. Who can tell me what’s going on with these lyrics?

(6) baking shenanigans

The puff pastry made by XZ is very delicious, WYB will also work with XZ to help when he has time. He’s busy getting started, and they will also do some weird things. If there is a strange taste, try it with the people around you.

Once WYB squeezed minced garlic into the pastry and mixed chili powder, but forgot to mark it, XZ ate it, pinched the back of the neck and squeezed the flesh of the face "Teacher Trained WYB”

*IM CACKLING AT THIS OMG WYB 😂😂😂 what flavor of pastry is that????

(7) another one about eating

Aling period

WYB: Why are you back?

XZ: Come back for dinner, there will be a show in the afternoon

WYB: Aren’t you going to eat with your friends?

XZ: I didn’t agree when someone wanted to invite me, it was too stupid.

WYB: xls It’s so difficult to eat normally today

XZ: You haven’t eaten it, have you?

WYB: Nope. I just thought you were back.

(8) checking the weather

XZ: “The weather doesn’t look like it’s going to rain...(Look 📱)

👤: "It should be sunny..."

XZ: “I just saw📱the weather forecast showed it’s going to rain soon.

👤: How is that possible? It’s obviously sunny. "(春📱)

XZ: "Huh?" (👤♥Two people facing each other📱)

XZ: Overcast to light rain to moderate rain.

👤: What you are looking at is the weather

XZ: Oh my God, so embarrassing...

XZ forgot to switch cities. no one will know the city WYB was in that day if I don’t tell you.

*This one hits different cause for this rumor, they are in different cities but in the same country. Lately, there are times that they are in diff countries so do they look at the weather their too? 🥹🥹🥹

I can’t relate to their obsession with the weather, but if that gives them a sense of connection to each other then it’s fine.

(9) raining

💚Supplement: It’s when the temperature gradually rises. At that time, it rained in June.

💚Holding an umbrella💚❤️talking all the way

❤️Start standing on the right side of 💚

💚Hold the umbrella and tilt it in the direction of ❤️

❤️Thick clothes💚Left half of light-colored thin clothes

The edges are wet and very transparent.

❤️Just keep pushing the umbrella in the direction of 💚

I wanted to block 💚 a little more, but found it was fine.

After seeing the effect, I found an opportunity to move it to the left side of 💚

Then 💚 the right half also got wet

Both centered and symmetrical….…..

(10) them and their parents.

Regarding their parents, I currently know the older one’s mom and dad can also surf the internet, and talk about about their CP and their impression of WYB is good. But his mother actually really wants to have a grandchild. His father is very indifferent when the older one comes home. I'm sure his mother won't be able to bear it. She asked him bluntly, the older ones always focus on work to fool her in the past. In July this year not only did he tell the truth to his family but took the younger one back with him.

It’s time for dinner at home, and the younger one is very nervous. He is afraid that the family will think he is not good enough. He bought a lot of things and piled them up for backup. He sprayed perfume and dressed properly and pretended. The older one made him want to laugh when he looks at him, just fool around. The younger one calls him a big bastard.

The mother on the table was holding jianguo and said she could only count on her to give birth to a litter of grandsons.

* I know that talk about their parents is sensitive and would always lead to more discussion, but again, treat this as fiction. and tbh, who could resist WYB as a son in law??? It I had a son and he brings home WYB as a boyfriend I will be very happy. I also feel soft that XZ is trying to tease and make WYB laugh.

(11)

What happened last year

WYB: Is it delicious?

XZ: (nodding while eating) Yeah, it’s quite delicious.

WYB: What about others?

XZ: Wait a minute...Wow, I just ate that, this one has no taste.

WYB: Is it too spicy?

XZ: It’s okay, but my tongue is numb and I can’t taste other flavors.

WYB: Wait a minute, drink some water. Is it really that spicy?

XZ: Try it yourself. You didn't keep it for yourself? Wasn't it sent from you?

WYB: I didn't take it apart. Bring it to me.

Then XZ really ate so much that he left two packets and took them back to WYB.

(You send it to me and I will bring it back to you. What kind of trick is this?)

What happened this year

XZ: It’s been too cold these two days.

👤: Southern kids.

XZ: :Then northerners also feel cold. Cold is cold.

(Okay, I know you have northerners in your family, next one)

👤When teasing XZ and WYB, XZ’s response was, “Hahaha” and send out red envelopes. As expected of Boss XZ.

I saw other people's submissions and came to do some post-sale service. I heard that XZ sang to put WYB to sleep. I know that there is indeed mmxhn, and there is a six-character song related to snow. (There are probably others somewhere that I don’t know about)

(12) like a fairy

XXX was wearing Iwj's white clothes for the first time

XX: Fairy, descended to earth to overcome the tribulation

XXX: Isn’t fairy a dog? You have so much information but no good words.

XX: Compliment you for being good-looking and handsome.wls, wow, so handsome!

XXX: xls looks better than me, our xls is so beautiful, ancestor of Yiling

XX: Stop, stop, it’s so shameful

*My favorite kind of rumor is when WYB goes gremlin on XZ! 😂😂😂😂

(13) cravings

WYB has been craving for "cai cai rice" recently, XZ told him many times that spring is not so good to have wild vegetables, even if they are cooked. WYB said he doesn’t care about wild vegetables he just wants to eat the vegetable rice cooked by XZ, but I don’t have that. It smells good, I just want to eat it.

In the end, he still didn’t get the cabbage meal, but freshly baked dumplings. WYB got a bargain and acted nice, he was acting coquettishly while eating.

* Oh to be WYB and have someone like XZ cook for youuuu 😍😍😍😍

-END.

P.S : this ye mi and xiao zhan AU pairing is living in my mind rent free. 🥵🥵🥵