#because i am completely normal about things

[entity9silvergen]

I think of relationships as a language I don't speak.

I am fluent in only one language (English) so I could take virtually any language and make this comparison. I don't speak that language. A ton of people do but I don't. It impacts my daily life almost never so I don't think about it at all.

Other languages are not completely alien to me. Maybe I know a few words. There are people close to me or in my community that speak the language. Sometimes I have moments of appreciation for the language and sometimes I have a moment with someone who I don't share a language with so communication is difficult. But then that moment is over and I go back to that to my normal life without that language.

Of course, it would be ignorant to assume the language you speak is the only one that matters. You still know other languages exist and maybe you engage with some of those languages in different ways. But, that does not change the fact that there are dozens of languages that are not part of my life. There is no hole in my life because I didn't lose anything. That knowledge and experience was never there to begin with.

You can learn new languages but doing so isn't filling a hole. You're adding something that wasn't there before. With asexuality and aromanticism, you can't really choose to make that go away but you can still choose to explore romantic or sexual things in whatever way works for you and make it a part of your life in some way, or you can continue as you were.

Either way, you were already whole. Your life was already full. There was nothing missing. You can only add things that weren't there before.

I feel like people struggle to understand that my life as an aorace person is not centered around an absence of relationships. There is no romance shaped void that I am trying to live with, or live around, or which my life's purpose is to fill somehow.

I go to university and I go to work and I volunteer in my community and in the in-between moments I drink tea with my friends and I plant tomatoes on my balcony and there is no need for anything else. There is no room for anything else anyway.

When I am asked how I deal with 'the hole in my life' or what I do with 'all my free time', I know these questions are not about me at all. They are a reflection of the person asking.

[creatingblackcharacters]

Writing Polls Notes #3

This is a long one!

So there were a couple moments where I saw commentary and this meme was my first concern 😅. I say this because I realized that what I thought I was communicating, and what people were understanding, as the question were different.

The original question I asked was "Is [Black Character] well written?" And I provided a rubric of examples to consider, figuring that respecting their narrative and depiction while Black was a given. It seemed like people were struggling with the idea that "well-written" included respecting the character's Blackness (and thus, their Black audience) without having to center that Blackness. I'm like okay, that's on me for assuming, and so the question itself needed to be changed.

And so, the question then became "Did the writers treat [Black character]'s narrative with respect?" Interestingly, I never changed the screenshot of the rubric!

Since her poll was poppin, I decided to use Vivienne's character to see what happened, and-

Now. And this is for everyone! Imma ask you this:

If the character wasn't written with care, how is the character still being written well? What are we defining as "well"?

I'm sure there are happy accidents of characters written well despite their author not giving a shit. This is not me saying that you can write with care and never write poorly. This is also not me saying that you cannot like the character or their potential anyway! I certainly don't think these two ramshackle Tumblr polls are the end all be all determination on this character. But I am asking you to think about it, regardless.

If a Black character's Blackness is unironically used as a joke or bludgeon, or out-of-game important social context is completely dismissed or has to be projected onto the character's narrative by fanon, then I personally take that into consideration when determining the author-ial intent in how a character was written (e.g. was a character's story meant to be a 'freedom fighting' narrative or did you have to say 'well if we take it from the authors-').

Idk guys, I just think this matters a lot lmao, and seeing this difference spooked me. The concept of a character might be great, but if the delivery is only great if you have to allow yourself to be antiblack about it (or ignore that factor altogether), maybe it wasn't created with the experience of a Black audience in mind 😅 We can like anything we want, but we ain't gotta lie about it!

Moving on!

Repeating another point from earlier: "It seemed like people were struggling with the idea that "well-written" included respecting the character's Blackness (and their Black audience) without having to center that Blackness."

There were a decent amount of "well the story doesn't mention their Blackness so I guess not/this question is hard". This is a big one to think about, period. When designing and writing your Black characters, and when trying to dodge stereotypes. When we say "be normal about Black people", that's kind of what we mean. You don't have to go "Black, Black, it's a Black!" for us to know the creator gave a damn, given how we are treated in media and life. You can write a downright horrid person of a Black villain and it still be written with care!

But yeah, I don't have to write a narrative where the Blackness is centered to consider the way Blackness itself is treated with my character. For example, as low hanging fruit, Wyll and Mizora.

Blackness- as we know it- doesn't exist in BG3, and yet the visual of a predatory white woman owning a Black man is a very real thing. Doesn't matter that racism- as we know it- doesn't exist in game and is therefore irrelevant, it exists to the real Black people playing it.

So to treat it crassly (as it seems to have been done) suggests a level of unconcern, and thus the effect it will have on those Black viewers who can see how everyone else's narrative is being treated with care. I'm always telling y'all, it's not the prompt, it's the writer- that could have been one hell of a concept, if the people who wrote it knew (or cared about) what they had and followed through!

Now, if your mindset is "well then this game isn't for those viewers" that's true, but keep in mind that's overtly saying that Black players aren't welcome to consume your content with a character that looks like them without settling for racism (which is part of "did they think about their Black audience").

Lastly, as a reminder, we gotta rise above "see there's a Black character!" as a judgment of a piece of media's inclusiveness. Okay, but did they play a role that had interiority or did they just serve as a device for the nonblack main characters and their stories? I don't believe in giving credit for the bare minimum of "being present" anymore lol. It's okay to have standards, it's okay that everything you like won't reach them, but you don't have to lower your standards for good Black characters to "just having them"!

[utilitycaster]

Sorry if you've answered this kind of question before, but yesterday's ask about the villains made me think about the opposite: what kind of story do you think Bells Hells could have worked well in, the way they are? With their complete disinterest about the world I struggle to imagine them working in anything but a monster of the week kind of format where things are just kind of thrown at you...

Hey anon,

This is a fantastic question because it gets to the crux of something I don't know if I've properly articulated and honestly might not have the right words for so if any of my mutuals who have a greater degree of expertise in narratology/storycraft than I do want to mark this up with red pen, go nuts.

The way I approach characters in stories is not just who they are initially; but who they become through the process of the narrative in which they find themselves. I'm not immune to a first impression! I repeatedly find myself initially drawn to more driven, serious, emotionally closed off, genuinely good but kind of a bitch about it characters; and dismissing the ones I see as chaos gremlins, and then having to recant myself if/when the chaos gremlins show more depth through their actions. I rarely find myself drawn to a character like Nott or Fiedra (to use a couple recent examples) from the start; both won me over utterly. This isn't always the case! Sometimes they don't win me over! But my point is that I think most people have archetypes they immediately latch onto and are comfortable with and even might ultimately prefer through the course of the story (and I am no exception), but character and story are inherently intertwined with each other. It's essentially nature vs. nurture but for narrative.

So: a big part of the problem is that Bells Hells were given a story that failed to challenge them in such a way that they would grow into it. They were told what to do and infodumped at and their own motivations often wrapped up remarkably early in the narrative with little effort on their part so that we could get to the Moon Plot, and then suddenly the bottom dropped out and they were suddenly supposed to do a bunch of vitally important quests with relatively little guidance or oversight, and like many a sheltered teen going 1000 miles away for college, they did not respond well. Unfortunately, instead of taking the "well fuck it I'm going to do jaegerbombs and see what happens" route they went the "I'm going to beg whoever I see as an authority for answers while also resenting them for not giving me the answers I wanted or worse, suggesting I try to come up with my own" route.

I think had Bells Hells had an introduction rather more like the Mighty Nein's or what we know of Vox Machina's, they'd have become people who could make those decisions! Because the thing is, both those parties kind of did have a Monster of the Week format early on because that's a really normal way to start a campaign! If they'd spent their lower levels having to reluctantly work together without any benefactors and take watch in a hostile environment and take on weird jobs for money, I can't guarantee that they would have become decisive and self-motivated and interested in the world around them, but I think it would have been much, much more likely! No one was particularly intelligent, but to give an example, Imogen did have a lot of interest in finding out about her powers! A narrative in which that was not a "we have to give her the answer in the first 50 episodes so we can get to the moon plot" but rather a slow burn that required seeking out knowledge and following threads throughout the campaign would have meant regular trips to libraries or archaeological dig sites or academic institution, and that could have served as an ongoing motivator and as a means for other characters to learn more about the world while Imogen was reading about her magic. But because those avenues were largely closed off after the beginning of the campaign and the answer given at like, the 40% mark, there was no opportunity for her to grow or change or develop other interests.

There's a reason why the classic D&D setup is "you meet in a tavern, you take weird jobs on the job board, and you eventually fight god" and not "you meet in a tavern, you have a series of benefactors, you resolve 90% of your backstories in the first 40 episodes, and then the BBEG happens" and it's because taking weird jobs on the job board is what turns you from "only fit for Monster of the Week plot" to "a group of people who can make complicated decisions and who have a deep interest in the world." The only reliable way I've seen to get around this is by explicitly telling your players "This is the basic premise of the story I want to tell, so I need you to play curious and decisive people from the jump." Disliking the odd jobs route of an early campaign but wanting a complex ending is like wanting to run a marathon but refusing to train for it.

I've been trying to focus my critique of Campaign 3 on the campaign itself and not its fans at this point but I think this is relevant: I find a lot of fans are not really that happy with much of what happened, but are big fans of Bells Hells as people (to the point of treating them with more personhood than their detractors). This has led to some statements I can only describe as wildly stupid and in bad faith in which they seem oddly incapable of processing the idea that one's opinion on a character can - and should! - change over the course of the story based on that character's actions; whenever I and others were like "hmm, I don't like the turn Ashton is taking" it was interpreted as some kind of Rapid Onset Bigotry That Exclusively Applies to Ashton And Not FCG (or Dairon, or Yudala, or FRIDA, or like, any other nb characters) or (hilariously given what I just said) inconsistency and not "if you used to like someone and then they said something really shitty, you might not like them any more". And the thing is, that is the problem of Campaign 3 in a nutshell, even without the fandom - Bells Hells seemed to be simultaneously terrified of seeming like bad people and also all too willing to be self-absorbed and inconsiderate, and most crucially never seemed to realize that stasis and indecision are themselves horrible qualities that many people dislike. Bells Hells as the characters who showed up in Campaign 3 episode 1 were not doomed to be the people they became; the narrative (and obviously the player choices) led them into that. I do not, after 121 episodes, give points for lost potential; but a different campaign from the start might have actually brought out that potential and made them into characters who could be the focus of a good story.

[c4tluver02]

full machine

wc: 1.3k

summary: Steve is finding it hard to make it up to you, seemingly making things worse. What could he do to make it up to you?

warnings: none! angst , hurt , slow burn ;)

a/n: eee i am so glad u guys liked the first fic !!!! i am also doing a tag list so pls lmk if u want to be tagged for the third part :D

part 1, part 2, part 3

I'll heal eventually, but faster if you're next to me. ♫

Two weeks have come and gone since Steve had last seen you. Normally you take a week and a half to two weeks to return the film… Not that Steve kept track or anything. But he was waiting for you. He needed to talk to you about your last visit and hopefully explain himself. 

A few days after it all happened Robin was back with Steve at Family Video and he told her everything that had happened. The way you so graciously offered to help him, to the way you left like there was some bomb that Steve didn’t know about. It was just another thing he had to deal with, one more dent in his beat up armor. Which when he really took time to think about it maybe he was saving you. It felt like a waste of a charity case for you to spend all this time to get to know him when there's nothing to stay for. You were worth more than that– you deserve more than having to deal with all the trauma he has or listening to how hard it is putting on a brave face for the kids. 

So a rehearsed speech is what felt safe. A simple way of telling you to run and don't look back but in a way that wouldn't hurt you any further. It was killing two birds with one stone really, you wouldn't be stuck with him and he wouldn't feel devastated when you left. A full proof plan. 

– 

Although Steve would have appreciated a day or two more to think over his plan but here you were the next day. Waiting at the counter in the prettiest sundress Steve thinks he's ever seen. Your hair is curled perfectly and the closer he gets to the counter the more he can smell your perfume– so sweet and warm. 

“Hi, you're back!” It comes out casual but Steve's heart is thumping so loud he worries if you could hear it. 

“Yeah I have a movie to return.” You say sliding it across the counter to him. The barely there smile you gave did nothing to heal him. 

Steve wants to blame the lack of time he had to prepare for how he stands there just looking at you. The day he normally waits for is now here and it isn't going how it's supposed to. Your big smile is nowhere to be found and the laugh that makes his dreaded thoughts go away isn't heard.

“Y’look real pretty.” He's typing the movie into the system, not even looking at you as he says it but you know it's sincere. Everything about Steve is sincere, you've never known him to think too little about someone. 

You’re unable to stop your cheeks flushing at the complement. “Thanks, I’m about to go on a date.” 

Steve thinks he could have gotten whiplash at how fast he just turned his head to look at you. Here you are in his store all dolled up for someone else. He must have done something dreadfully awful in his past life to deserve this. 

“A date huh? With who?” The tape is long forgotten and Steve has his arms holding himself up on the counter in case the answer wipes him out completely. 

“A guy I met at the pool.” You feel like you're in the police station with a bright light on you. The interrogation feeling completely uncalled for after he was the one who turned you down. 

Steves thankful he was holding himself up, the thought of you in a bathing suit and some guy snatching you up was good enough to make him feel sick. He knows how men work. He's a man for crying out loud. He’ll use you for a hook up and you’ll feel even worse and because of Steve's stupid screw up you won't come to him for help. 

“Y’sure that he's not some douche that wants a hookup?” Steve asks, tilting his head to the side. He just wants you to rethink this, maybe stay with him and talk things through. You’ll leave happier and Steve will feel better. 

But if looks could kill he’d be dead on spot. “Thanks for your concern Steve but despite what you may think, guys actually like me and want to go out with me. So if I'm all good I've gotta go.” You grab your bag and head towards the door before he even has time to respond. It's quick and painful like someone shot him, the wound would be felt for weeks. 

–

And Steve was right. He had gotten no sleep, his nightmares were long and horrific. Nothing was helping him and there was no one he could turn to. The dark bags under his eyes were matching evidence of it. Robin came over one day to try to help but nothing came of it. If he could talk to you now he’d explain everything. That the kids come crying to him 6 out of 7 days of the week, Jonathan and Nancy use him as a dating advice counselor more than a friend, Robin needs reassurance that she's not messing Vickie up with her night terrors. It's all too much and Steve doesn't know where you’d fit into it. Why’d you even want to fit into it? He’s been doing it for years and still doesn't have a hang of it, the notion of you leaving from the first sight of wreckage would be the thing that ends Steve.  

An idea Robin had was to take all the kids to get ice cream to ‘get his mind right’ as she put it. So he made it happen, sure it was 11pm on a Saturday night but if anyone knows that no one sleeps it’s Steve. All the kids were down to come out and enjoy a nice free ice cream night. It was getting hotter and even though the sun was long gone the ice cream still melted fast. 

“You look awful.” Mike says licking his ice cream from the cone. Steve asked for them all to get cups in hopes his car isn't ruined but none of them did so they are finishing it outside. 

“I know. I haven't left my place in days.” Normally Steve wouldn't let the kids even see him like this let alone tell them how depressed he's been. 

“You ever think about just going to her place and saying you're sorry?” Now it’s Dustin asking but the ice cream is leaking through the bottom of the cone getting all over his shoes. 

“Where do you think between all this I just got her address?” Steve asks, rolling his eyes. Maybe children wasn't the best to bring this up to. 

“Well you have her address in your system, you have it for anyone who rents movies.” Max adds. 

“That sounds very stalkerish.” Okay yeah this definitely isn't something he should be talking about with the kids. 

“What you need is a big gesture to show her you care. Going out of your way to her is the type of thing that will at the very least get you a conversation with her.” Dustin says. He’s not wrong. Unless you pretend to not hear the doorbell ring or the knock on the door a conversation would definitely be in order. 

The conversion ends there and Steve drops each kid off at their house. Not wanting them to be out too late, there's still hope to save their sleep schedule. 

He wants to call Rob to see if this is just a case of Steve being around kids too much or if she thinks this could actually work. Either way he knows she won't judge him for it but it's too late to ask now. Just something that will have to be held off for tomorrow when she finally sees him at work. Maybe, hopefully, tonight instead of seeing the Creel house in his dreams, he'll see you.

tag list: @ahead-fullofdreams

[honeydippedfiction]

Please I need #1 from the pre-established list with Trevor Z

1k & Birthday Bash nav | main navigation | reqs | table of contents

#1. Sending you dumb questions, funny jokes, or random thoughts in replacement of good morning texts.

Trevor Zegras x black!femreader

Trevor never sent normal good morning texts. Not once.

Where most couples woke up to heart emojis or sleepy selfies or some variation of “Did you sleep okay?”, she woke up to things like: “If I get bitten by a radioactive squirrel, promise you’ll still love me if I become Nutman.”

It was absurd. Unnecessary. And somehow, it had become her favorite part of the day.

It started early in their relationship—accidental at first. One morning, he’d overslept and shot off a panicked text that read, “Just woke up from a dream where I lost all my teeth and then signed a contract with the Tooth Fairy. Thoughts?”

She had laughed so hard she nearly dropped her phone in the sink. It wasn’t a smooth good morning, but it was real. It was weird, oddly tender, and it caught her completely off guard.

After that, it became a thing.

Every morning like clockwork—sometimes before sunrise if he was on the road, sometimes a few minutes after she’d already texted him “hey sleepyhead”—a new Trevor Zegras Original™ would arrive. Stupid, sweet, or wonderfully unhinged. But never ordinary.

This morning was no different.

Her alarm went off at 6:55 AM. She silenced it with a groan and rolled over, burying half her face in the pillow. Her body begged her to stay in bed, but her brain—well-trained now—waited for the buzz.

It came at 7:03.

She reached blindly for her phone and unlocked the screen.

Trevor: “Serious question: If I legally adopt a penguin, can it be the ring bearer at our wedding?”

A slow grin crept across her face. “This boy,” she mumbled to no one. She rubbed her eyes, yawned, and thumbed out a reply.

Her: “Only if it wears a bowtie. Tux is overkill.”

She barely had time to set her phone down before the typing bubbles appeared.

Trevor: “God, you get me.”

This was their rhythm. The day didn’t begin until he’d dropped a dumb hypothetical into her life like a glitter bomb—completely unnecessary, a little messy, but unexpectedly delightful.

Her apartment was quiet. She padded barefoot to the kitchen, sunlight beginning to spill across the tile floor, and flicked on the kettle. Her phone dinged again.

Trevor: “Okay but what if we invite two penguins? One for each of us. Equal opportunity.”

She laughed out loud, nearly spilling her tea. “That’s equality,” she muttered, tapping back.

Her: “You’re drunk with power. It’s 7 AM.”

Some of his greatest hits lived forever in a saved folder on her phone—screenshotted, organized, and shamelessly re-read on bad days.

— “Would you still date me if I had elbows where my knees are?” — “Your laugh is strawberry-flavored. Not a question, just a fact.” — “Do you think ghosts get annoyed at each other? Like, 'Ugh, Janet, stop floating through the wall dramatically.'”

Each message was a window into his mind. Some windows were foggy. Some were cracked. All of them were open.

On away-game days, the texts got more elaborate. Maybe it was the hotel boredom or the 3 AM bus rides, but he had time. He’d send long strings of voice notes, or mock-poetry about how sad his pregame bagel looked.

One Tuesday, she woke up to a five-part text saga:

Trevor: “Okay hear me out: a reality show where NHL players have to live on a farm and raise goats.” “I’d win btw.” “Or die.” “Either way, entertainment.” “Miss your face.”

She had laughed herself into a coughing fit. Not just because it was funny, but because it was him. Even when he was exhausted or hurting, even when the game had gone sideways or the media was hounding him—he always found a way to send something that felt like him. And better yet, that felt like them.

Because, really, that was the magic of it.

These weren’t just jokes. They were love notes in disguise. They were little daily reminders that he saw her, even when she wasn’t in front of him. That she was the first person he wanted to tell when his brain spun off into some strange corner. That he didn’t want their relationship to become routine—not even for a second.

He didn’t say “good morning.” He said “here’s a world I made up that only we live in.”

And she treasured it.

One night, back in the off-season, they were tangled up on his couch, Netflix flickering in the background. Her legs draped over his lap, his fingers absently tracing circles on her shin. They’d watched maybe ten minutes of The Officebefore veering into one of their wandering late-night conversations.

She glanced over at him, playful curiosity in her voice. “Hey. Why do you do that?”

He didn’t look away from the screen. “Do what?”

“The weird texts. The penguins. The elbow knees. All of it. You could just send, you know… ‘good morning.’ Like a normal boyfriend.”

He shrugged. “Yeah, but where’s the romance in that?”

She snorted. “You think hypothetical penguins are romantic?”

Finally, he looked at her—smiling, but serious in that way he got when she caught him off guard. When her question nudged something real beneath the jokes.

“I just… I never want you to feel like I’m phoning it in,” he said. “Like I’m just checking a box. I want you to wake up and already know I’m thinking about you—not in some boring, 'hope you slept well' kind of way. But in the way where my brain does something dumb and you’re the first person I need to tell.”

She looked at him then—really looked. At the boy who lit up arenas and still worried about making her laugh before 8 AM. At the kid who could dangle around defenders but never danced around his feelings.

She didn’t say anything at first. Just leaned over and kissed him, soft and slow. Then whispered, “You’re such a weirdo.”

He beamed. “Your weirdo.”

The next morning, her phone buzzed before her alarm. 6:41 AM.

Trevor: “What if we bought a submarine and just dipped from land life?”

She blinked at the screen for a second, half-laughing, half-awake.

Her: “Only if it has WiFi and you do the dishes.”

And just like that, her day began.

Better than good.

Better than “Good morning.”

[alessabriel]

hi, can I maybe request how the arcane women treat a reader w/ a disability? specifically a cane? thanks :)

- @sadismismybestquality

Arcane Fem x Reader uses cane. PT1

Reader who uses a cane ft. Jinx (Powder), Vi (Violet), Caitlyn Kiramman, Mel Medarda, Sevika, Margot.

Cw. Use of [Name] or just allusion to the character without gender only neutral although it tends to feminine but by the translator sometimes changes, mention of disability and use of cane (if there is any discordance please let me know by dm or in comments), violence and blood typical of the canon.

I know it took a long time but between life and other things, I hope you like it, if not, let me know. @sadismismybestquality (I am sorry if there is an inaccuracy according to the use of the cane.)

Jinx / Powder

𖹭 Jinx really didn't care much whether or not her partner had a disability and the need to use a cane, in Zaun it's completely normal and in a way since childhood she had a certain admiration; actually it's admiration for you, for her partner Why, you might ask? Because even with a cane held tightly in your hand, some sidelong glances not at all kindly there was a kindness and gentleness in you that was undeniable, but not to be confused with naivety at all.

𖹭 Jinx loves you, from head to toe, from top to bottom, from the inside out, if you kill someone she will be there to hide the corpse with you, if you want to kill someone she will be there even next to you immediately and this becomes worse if she detects someone, even an entity or being that dares to see you bad because why the fuck would they see you bad if you are the most divine, kind, precious and so fucking beautiful being that came down from heaven?

𖹭 [Actually the appointments were not usual, but Jinx had days off since she had focused on her 'duties' and 'errands', even Silco had shown well hidden astonishment that he didn't know how to interpret, insulted or flattered? But regardless, he had the opportunity to go for lunch out there, and maybe be able to stop by his workshop and not just for jobs.

He was always hypervigilant. Trauma? Habit? Who knows, but he had the gun at arm's length from one hand.

They just walked through the crowd, something normal after enjoying a good zaunite meal and he was always careful to keep some distance from the range of the cane you always carried with you, not to get in the way and help in any case, because Jinx only wanted one thing in his life nowadays; to make your life easier and more bearable, if he could he would have you worshipping you as an angel. And everything was going great, a chatter here and there, plus Jinx chatting about everything and anything, about what he saw and was interested in until modifications to his pumps, until he sees it; an imbecile passes you so close that he manages to push you and almost fall, except that he stopped you just in time and when he sees that expression of pain, he just knows what he should do. After putting you properly in some random and trustworthy store he goes out with the pretext of bringing something for the pain, it's not quite pretext but aha, if the street is dyed red good details. ] 𖹭

𖹭 Jinx always creates little random doodles on your cane, it's a way to show his love just like on all your reachable belongings, and it's kind of romantic in his sight because you're the one who leaves him little notes on the meals you sometimes make him and make him eat, it's his love language. Or even if by some chance your cane suffers some damage she fixes it herself, adding her spark because why not? She is surprised that it is easier for you to use it now and she loves it, it fills her with pride to be able to help you.

𖹭 Jinx loves you totally, there is not a single thing that would make her stop loving you.

Vi / Violet

𖹭 Vi really has an even greater protective instinct towards you, not because she thinks you are weak because not at all, for her on the contrary you are stronger than anyone else and she has to be very aware of you, when you go for a walk because it helps a little with the pain due to your injury and to stretch you, which are quiet moments that she values very much compared to her time in prison.

𖹭 Vi loves you totally, she did it since she was a child when she was curious why you used a cane to walk but she always had that habit impossible to remove because she did not remember where or when but she heard someone say that the handle of the cane left marks or bruises due to daily use, support weight or actions like that, so she made an effort to make it ergonomic, and in fact she was so interested because doing it relaxed her and as a teenager she had a lot of energy.

𖹭 [Vi had completed a solo job Legal? I didn't know but it didn't stand out much, so it wasn't entirely dangerous and with it she had managed to buy enough materials to make your cane more comfortable which she could see was giving its last breaths of life and your family was trying hard to buy you good and quality canes or make them, but with all the hustle and bustle of Zaun well it wasn't entirely possible for your parents, so she had been making a new one with wood and metal, it cost her to learn from Benzo because as an uncle he was great but as a teacher fuck it was hell but she made it; a cane made of a sturdy wood with metal alloys that could be adjusted for height as you got older because she thought long term.

If Vander laughed at her for the detail, it was something no one knew.

It took hours but she completed it, even testing it on Vander because she needed to know it was sturdy. From what she saw, the cane could withstand even Vander's weight which was like all muscle and stuff, and it didn't feel weak or anything close to breaking so she smiled before taking the little pink ribbon (only she knew that ribbon was exactly the shade of her hair, a little mark that she made it for you).

"You like it a lot, don't you girl?" Vander questions with a smile.

Vi just blushes but doesn't get defensive "Thanks Vander, I'll be back later."

(Vander was proud of his little girl, I mean he had never seen her be interested in anything besides family and boxing, but now he saw her genuinely smile, blush and stop having that horrible tension on her shoulders).

And Vi when she delivers it I expect a lot, but not that you would throw yourself into her arms with such force.

"Do you like me?" she asks you, cushioning the blow with her body.

"Like it Vi? I loved it, thank you so much!"

Vi could only feel her heart melt when she didn't see you stumble a little because of the old cane, but now your gait was more confident and if she liked seeing the pink ribbon in your hair, well yet another reason why she liked you]. 𖹭

𖹭 Vi really was very used to leave some space between her body and walking with you, so you would not stumble and almost by instinct her steps were synchronized with yours because she would never leave you behind.

𖹭 But no one could tell Vi that they would end up separated sooner rather than later, and that when she left that prison with weathered knuckles, tattoos and a sense of emptiness accompanied by Caitlyn Kiramman, with a fixed objective; it was when she looked at you for the first time in years and recognized you by the pink ribbon that still held your hair, it was in passing but her heart beat again, maybe later they could meet when her hands were not so busy and her destiny uncertain.

𖹭 Because Vi was like that, she protected you and loved you in a sincere, pure way and that love would last for millennia, she only hoped she herself could hold on a little longer.

Caitlyn Kiramman.

𖹭 Caitlyn would know you since she was young, she never approached you perhaps out of fear because you belonged to the Ferros family; Name Ferros, and she had seen you the first years of training using an elegant and functional cane, you tired her an eternal curiosity.

𖹭 But Caitlyn feeling somewhat insecure and self-conscious did not approach, she only saw you in the distance always walking beside your father Stevan Ferros; of whom she remembers his confident, fast pace and above all did not wait for anyone. I saw that at the festivities in elegant halls and galas, always, but when you were next to your father he synchronized his steps with yours, left space for your cane and above all did not allow any comments about you and your disability, he never allowed it he had even silenced his own mother Cassandra Kiramman with a scathing comment akin to "have no future and flattering suitors" which was countered by Stevan's even more scathing comment "the worth of none of my heirs is governed by archaic stereotypes befitting the ignorant" and to this day he does not forget his mother's embarrassed face.

𖹭 Then one day Caitlyn no longer sees you at galas, at council meetings or anything else, until she is about to graduate from training and sees you; now without the cane but the Ferros technology shines in one of your legs an elegant circuit of rigid and flexible parts that allows you to walk safely, you work alongside Camille Ferros and it is noticeable that you climbed quickly passing to the Enforcers and being in a totally different league.

𖹭 | Caitlyn was anxious, maybe a little nervous but she hadn't seen you in months so when she got to see you again it was still at Camille Ferros' side; your figure was no longer leaning to one side but more upright, straight and your cane was no longer there but an intricate, delicate but sturdy circuit that created firmness in your leg, you seemed more sure of yourself.

You shone in an unobtrusive way, like a star in the firmament.

So, when you walk past him near where he is with his patrol (people who throw out biting comments of being born in a cradle of gold).

"The uniform you sit in looks great Miss Kiramman" you say, softly as you pass by her walking quickly past.

Caitlyn didn't get a chance to return the compliment, but fuck her heart might just pound out of her chest altogether. | 𖹭

𖹭 She fell so hard, in love and heavy, fell first and very heavy, and experienced everything.

𖹭 Caitlyn had a hard time overcoming that limitation that stopped her from approaching, but she did and the first conversations were superficial, soft and cordial until little by little from wearing the Enforcer uniform and talking in short lapses of time she could see you lying on her bed, both with your legs intertwined and just chatting.

𖹭 For Caitlyn to start a relationship was to take a step in the long walk, step by step, and she always worried about you and your occasional use of the cane, nothing changes for her she simply loves you.

𖹭 Caitlyn believes and knows that you are the most beautiful, strong, resilient, hardworking, intelligent and gorgeous woman ever, and will be with her for a lifetime.

𖹭 Caitlyn tends to leave little bracelets or tiny details on the cane that was always waiting at the side of their bed.

Mel Medarda.

𖹭 Mel really isn't surprised to see someone use a cane, he's seen that before and his interest in you came from how much art he saw in your cane, intricate carved lines on dark wood and what was a work of art with metal on wood, paint. It was a fucking work of art that was functional, sturdy and helped in your life.

𖹭 | Mel could no longer contain the question in her mouth, in the huge room full of superficial conversations, she waited delicately until she managed to detect a space of solitude in your agenda; an artist calmed by the opulence of Piltover but she detected how there was a difference in the art offered to the opulence and to the people who really approach, the essence.

You were able to endow your essence to your art or delicately snatch emdich essence to your art, both beautiful.

So, armed with a glass of Noxian wine she approached with light, measured steps until she reached your side where you only appreciated the huge window- "it's a pleasure to see you again, and your art the same".

"a pleasure Mel" you conceded in a soft voice without much intention or commitment, without really seeing her.

Mel knew you were elusive, like golden water slipping through her fingers.

"I can't help but appreciate the artistry in your cane, allow me to praise it and if not it is impertinent of me may I question something?" finished Mel questioning, making the Noxian wine dance in her glass.

"Go ahead, honesty is part of me" you reply with a serene calm, charming the Noxian further.

"Does your art expand to your staff?"

Mel presence as you think about it, calmly and seem to weigh your answer but wait.

"My disability will not limit my art, if it already encompasses my skin why not my cane the same?"

Mel definitely fell when I detect your sidelong glance, playful, flirtatious and so sweet. | 𖹭

𖹭 Mel is really informed about the disability you have, an injury as a child that left after-effects and you needed the support of the cane. Start respecting it, now with meaning and not just out of mere politeness.

𖹭 Mel is aware of your personal space and respects it, he also makes the rest respect it.

𖹭 Mel fell in love with the art you carried in your soul and reflected in your cane.

Sevika.

𖹭 Sevika saw how the cane became part of your life after the war, which should not hurt as much as it did but she went from seeing you happy, running and jumping because you were like a little sun bouncing everywhere to someone still, she saw how much pain you suffered in your leg for a wound that healed perfectly (thanks to the fucking union between Piltover and Zaun that could provide you a proper treatment) but left sequelae; chronic pain, use of cane and a half rehabilitation because it was considered that you could continue with your life.

𖹭 Sevika never neglected you, in fact she became hyper-aware of her surroundings and yours because of your use of the cane, therefore she protected you but sometimes it was impossible to protect you from your own frustration.

𖹭 | Sevika had spent an afternoon full of paperwork, information and so on at the council, she hated the council and those sidelong glances that no Piltovian knew how to camouflage, she hated even more taking a seat on the council from the one fucking woman; Cassandra Kiramman who had a shred of concern for Zaun. It was bittersweet. So when she came home, and saw you on the floor alone staring at your cane in front of you and sat down next to you.

Sometimes you just needed to sit next to each other to take strength.

"When I lost my arm, it was frustrating dealing with the loss of balance, the pain of the prosthetic and the healing" Sevika found herself saying, not much commitment to her most painful period of her life as even with a prosthetic, support and a higher salary; Silco was grateful despite it all but that took away the chagrin, the slight depression of losing the arm and Sevika continues "I mean, you never think about that you might lose a limb you know? Let alone an arm, hell there were days where the phantom pain made me want to rip my skin to shreds."

"...You never told me that" you whisper, in a soft, hushed voice, never looking up from the cane as if it offended you personally.

"That wasn't attractive you know, I wanted to win you over, you know have you look at me and say 'hell, I want to eat her' or you know, be wife material Too delusional on my part?" Sevika questions at last, leaning against the furniture just looking at the cane with a neutral gaze.

"Well, I liked you a lot from the start if that's any consolation" you say with a somewhat broken chuckle, shaking your leg feeling the painful tug on your nerves.

"What I mean is, well, I understand your process not entirely but love, don't give up, I know you can."

Sevika just felt you lean against her side and cry, a silent, painful but releasing cry and she wrapped an arm around you. | 𖹭

𖹭 Sevika is a loyal, loving and caring companion, accepting of change, advancement and so on, she loves you and will love every new facet in you, even the cane (she got a retractable one for you and your comfort, it cost hell but it was totally worth it because you didn't hate it).

Margot.

𖹭 Margot is a woman who loves, she really loves, she doesn't give half or crumbs, no, she gives all her love and hopes not to be hurt (because frankly she can hurt but in Zaun, being a quimobarona she didn't allow that) until you arrived, you took her love in excess, her dramatism, fights with those two old men who called themselves quimobaronas and her childish attitude sometimes and still you loved her.

𖹭 Margot before you didn't know what a sincere love was, but with you she got to know it and got used to it, therefore every part of you was accepted, valued and consequently loved. She spared no expense, if she obtained money in not so legal and moral ways, why spend it on something totally worthwhile? Apart from her makeup, piercings and a home in the highest part of Zaun where the sun shone perfectly into the common room.

𖹭 And what Margot loved, was your nagging, although those specific ones she didn't really pay attention to.

𖹭 | Margot was attentive to cleaning the new piercings, cleaning and disinfecting them for later use, so she almost dropped one when you walked into the room and recognized the soft touch of wood on the floor.

"Because you bought more than five new canes, Margot!" you question with rosy cheeks, standing in front of the huge bed where Margot saw her box of piercings.

Margot shrugged, playing it down "that old geezer owed me some favors and those canes are really good, I couldn't pass up the opportunity you know?"

"Love."

"Don't scold me, I like to spend my money on you and that cane is already taking its last breaths, what's more we can decorate it together What do you think?"

Margot admires how that anger deflates and they both end up seeing how to decorate the cane, if she entertained herself kissing your neck and leaving marks of her lipstick on your skin, good details. | 𖹭

𖹭 Margot definitely adores you completely, with more canes than you actually occupy in the closet and with your soft nagging, which sounded more like hard candy.

pt 2

[fallthelong]

Drabble AU: Sylus, Xavier x You

Prompt: His reaction when hearing from someone that you want to break up with him because you are mad at him (prank)

Notes:

- I am an ESL and not writing much lately so pardon me for any bad writing or grammatical errors

- it is my own view of them, so they might be OOC for others

- that is all, hope you will enjoy ❤️🥰

SYLUS

After persuading Luke and Kiera to be your messenger, you settled down comfortably in your sofa with a book in your hands and a mug on the table ready for your act. Hours passed, you heard stable and slow footsteps which was normally unnoticeable as if their owner wanted to pass the announcement that he was coming. You inhaled deeply and quietly, putting the book over your face and passively sensing his figures getting closer and closer.

“Well, look who’s here?”, Sylus’s tone contained amusement and fondness.

Not waiting for your response, he continued, “Isn’t this the new boss of my employees?” with a slow tone along side with his usual signature smirk, even though you didn’t see it, you could feel it.

You controlled your emotion, and proceeded with an indifferent reply, “huh, what are you saying? I don’t understand anything”

He huffed and gave a little chuckle which you always enjoyed. “Oh, really? Then I guess I have to find out the culprit who managed to make my most reliable and loyal subordinates follow their order and pass such false rumors”. As he was speaking, he closed the distance. You could feel he had his strong and long arms behind the you, on the sofa. His shadow loomed over you as he leaned down.

You couldn’t help but look up, matching his tender and interested gaze, as always, “Which rumors?”. You couldn’t resist grinning a bit when those words slipped out of your lips. The act was on the verge of falling apart.

The headlight was covered by his tall figure as he sat down on the arm rest, fully had you in his zone. Eyebrows raising a bit, his words overloaded with interest: “Rumors … like my sweetie was mad at me and demanded a separation”.

You could feel the corner of your lips raise a bit, but you pretended to be taken aback, “Oh god, I could never do that. Your initial reaction was to suspect me. Bad move, Sylus, now I am mad for real”.

“My apology, sweetie. I should have believed you more than my intuition about the cheekiness on your face ever since I walked in and the sound of your giggles down the hall this afternoon when I saw you with the twins”, he talked calmly and apologetically but the expression was full of knowing. You opened your eyes wide as you hadn’t noticed his presence at that moment. As things got exposed, you wondered if this prank got too much.

Using the book as the cover, you left the sad eyes only to his vision, “I was bored and you were busy so… are you mad?”, hopefully you didn’t cross any lines.

Surprisingly, he lifted you up and had you sit on his laps, completely in his embrace. “I was any near that feeling, darling. If I had known my kitten wants my attention, I would’ve waited the twins to break the news”. He placed his lips on your forehead and you could feel his hand gently brush through your hair.

“Since you got my full attention now, should I make it up for you on all the efforts you have made?”

You smiled happily as you wrapped your arms around his neck.

You quietly pouted and added: “… the twins were hard to talk through… my throat was dry after…”

“I know, I know. Let’s find something to soothe my sweetie’s lovely throat then”.

XAVIER

Tara sent a message saying that mission accomplished, which meant she had told him about it. You nervously waited for his arrival, half anticipating for what was coming.

A beep noise as the keycode successfully accepted. The clack of the door echoed through the space, the footsteps followed next.

Xavier walked in with a confused expression combining a bit of sadness. He walked in and sat down next to you, “You know, Tana told me something today which I am shock and in a huge confusion”.

You held back laughter and lifted up your head from the phone screen to face him. “What is it?”, trying your best to sound nonchalant about it.

“She said that you are upset at me about something and ….”, he seemed flustered and struggled to put things into words, “you wanted to… break up with me”.

When those words were finally out, he took a big and clear inhale as if it was something really difficult for him to say. “Is it true?”. He didn’t wait for you to reply, with his eyes on your face observing every single of your expression in case he didn’t miss any changes.

You suddenly felt very guilty as it supposed to be a harmless joke to get a reaction out of him. Based on his reaction, he must have thought about this the whole way to home and maybe, throughout his mission. As the silence went on, you kinda lost in your thought for a moment since you felt bad about this.

He couldn’t wait any longer, reached out to your hand and asked: “Did I do something to make you mad? Let’s talk about it”. Even though the words filled with sadness, he sounded calm reflecting the seriousness in him to solve this problem peacefully and at once.

You were awoken from the thoughts by his action. Quickly holding his hands back tightly and squeezing them, you rushed out the truth, “No no, it is not like that. It was a dare Tara got from the Truth or Dare game we played in break time”.

Upon hearing that, his dark blue eyes were wide open and full of surprise. After that, his brows furrowed with the feeling of confusion and possibly anger which you felt too flustered to figure out. Your hands were shaking when noticing the change in his emotion. “I- I am sorry. I thought it would be fun when they suggested but I didn’t know it would hurt you badly like this. I - have no words, I am truly sorry”.

You lowered your eyes as you were too afraid to look at him, feeling like being watched by the light of truth and judgement. As a lover, you had made such a bad prank, allowing the love of your life in pain while you were in the state of enjoying that. What were you thinking?

You could feel your tears rearing up, before it got running out. You instinctively withdrew your hand from his to quickly wipe your eyes, but the movement was stopped. When looking up, you fell into a tight hug. His hand on the back of your head and his chin on the top of your hair, “Don’t cry. I am not mad at you. I simply felt upset at myself not knowing that I make you sad and why”.

You mumbled against his white shirt as he pressed your head on his shoulder, “No, you never make me sad. It was my fault. I-“

Xavier didn’t let you finish your self accusation, “Shhh, it is okay”. His hug was a bit loose as he released a bit to hold you by the shoulders and looked straight info your teary eyes.

“I understand now. Stop blaming yourself, alright?”

You nodded as his finger brushed through the corner of your eyes, he gently kissed your lips.

“And I meant what I said, tell me if you are upset with me. I don’t want to lose you over things I am not aware of”

Your heart skipped a beat as you looked into his eyes.

“Now, since we come to the agreement, I think I need to receive some compensation after what I have been feeling”, his lips quirked up, eyes full of cheekiness.

[phenixa]

The Lilia Psychological Analysis (aka, I psychoanalyse everything, and I love that guy.)

CW : Spoilers for Book 7 (EN serv) and mentions of Book 7 (JP serv)

Okay, so, Lilia. The one I lovingly call "Twisted Wonderland’s Loli" because, have you seen him ?

ANYWAY. I have seen a lot of people on Tumblr and Twitter talk about Lilia’s characterisation, through character analysis, headcanons and everything, and the main argument I saw was that, just like Floyd for a lot of people, Lilia is hella hard to write and not mischaracterise. And as a Lilia Yume, yeah. Yea he’s hell to write. (one of the reasons I haven’t written my Lilia HCs or some x Readers is mainly because every time I start to write him, he ends up looking really not like Lilia at all)

And I think one of the main reasons that so many people "mischaracterise" him, have so many different HCs for him or just plainly say that he’s hell to write is because that little shit is fucking mysterious. He can go from teasing to serious and wise, was the key factor of two overblots and in Book 7 we learn that he used to be a War General ? What’s next ? He’s the father of 1 ¾  sons ? Oh, wait.

What I mean to say is that, Lilia keeps his cards very close to his chest, for a lot of reasons, but when he reveals important pieces of information regarding his person, it’s always in a way that looks like a "Oh, you didn’t know ? It was quite obvious." (him giving his age to Vil and Rook in Chapter 26 of Book 7, like it’s the most normal thing to say and everyone knows that he’s around 700 years old), or we learn it through the rest of the Diasomnia family. The most of Lilia’s past we learn is through his dreamscape during Book 7, and to be honest, the most things we learn about Lilia is in Book 7. And, let’s be honest, Lilia’s dream is fucking special, in so many ways. I’m still early in Book 7 (still in his dream) but I know what happens in the others’ dreams. And like, Lilia’s dream is the longest we see, and is not a dream per se, but a whole flashback.

So, with that in mind, I started to research. And, as the person that isn’t scientific at all, I ended up reading scientific papers just to see what could be the explanation to his character and its specificities. And uh... Psychology special interest came knocking at my door... So here’s my two cents on Lilia’s character using psychology.

Little disclaimer, I am not a psychiatrist, or therapist. I only have a special interest in psychology and a passion for psychoanalysing people and fictional characters. Oh and, I am probably completely wrong on many points, I just saw his character, saw some diagnoses and went "yeah. That matches."

So if you want to add anything or correct me, feel free to ! Just, please, be respectful.

Oh and, I also might be biased with my own HCs, as I said, I’m a Lilia Yume, and I have not finished Book 7, so I might have missed things. (I keep myself updated on what happens on JP server, so I know how Book 7 ends, but I don’t have all details)

So, let’s start with Lilia Vanrouge as we know him in NRC. He is described like this in the in-game album :

"Vice Housewarden of Diasomnia and Malleus's overseer. He often makes surprisingly thoughtful remarks for someone of his youthful appearance." Twisted Wonderland, Lilia Vanrouge

A loli, as I was saying-

So, the game tells us two things : he’s Malleus’ overseer and looks way too fucking young to say so many philosophical shit. What a lot of things that we learn about him !

In comparison, here is the in-game album description of Malleus :

"Housewarden of Diasomnia. Descended from fae, he is one of the most powerful mages in the world. He is highly respected on campus, yet his demeanor is less than approachable." Twisted Wonderland, Malleus Draconia

Outside of his position as Housewarden, we learn 4 things : descends from Fae, hella powerful, very respected, hella scary. It is, let’s be honest, still not a lot of information, but it’s still more than what the game tells us about Lilia.

And sure, that is supposed to be a quick description of the character that doesn’t really go into details, and makes you want to play the game and see, but I still find this kinda "funny" that the game gives us next to nothing. Even compared to Silver, where the game really doesn’t want you to clock in that he’s Lilia’s son, it still gives you more basic info on Silver than on Lilia. Same for Sebek and the others.

So, basically, Mr. Vanrouge is mysterious, the game wants you to know that, and Lilia also acts mysterious in so many ways. And I think it’s not just because admitting that he’s a 700 years old fae that has 1 ¾ sons (I’ll come to that later) and attend school with his children would be really weird. I mean, that is probably one of the reasons, possibly the main one. But there’s one thing that usually makes people really secretive about their past.

Trauma.

And in Lilia’s case, Posttraumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD).

I mean, the guy was active in a war. He’s an orphan. He bore Malleanor’s death on his shoulders. Raised two children, one being the child of his childhood crushes/friends and the other being the child of the guy that killed his childhood crushes/friends. You don’t go through all of that unscathed and not traumatised. Lilia has lost so much. That brings me to the second disorder I think our peepaw has.

Prolonged Grief Disorder.

Once again, Maleanor. (unrelated, but I really would like to write a fic where Lilia goes through the 5 steps of grief, could be interesting) It is said in the game that Lilia loved Maleanor and Raverne. I am not at the moment where Maleanor says that to Lilia (soon. Soon.) but on Lilia’s wiki page, this is what is said regarding his relationship with Maleanor and Raverne :

"He used to have a crush on Maleanor having once proposed to her when they were children" Twisted WonderLand Wiki, Lilia Vanrouge, Relationships, Maleanor Draconia "he loved both Raverne in the past like he loved Maleanor" Twisted Wonderland Wiki, Lilia Vanrouge, Relationship, Raverne

Lilia was persuaded for many years that Raverne hadn’t died like Maleanor, and that he hoped that Raverne had only been a prisoner to some humans, but Raverne’s fate is left unsaid (leading to the Crowley is Raverne Theory, for example) while Maleanor’s death is there. We know she died. Hell her whole wiki page is written in the past tense without a real mention of her death (it just says that she "fell in battle").

And I will add, I do not know if the Love Lilia had for Raverne was romantic or platonic, or if the Love he had for Maleanor at the time of her death was still romantic. English is a sad, sad language, having only one word for Love (two if we count "Like") and maybe, just maybe one day we will know if that Love was platonic, familial, romantic or something else.

Regardless of that, Lilia still grieves Maleanor and Raverne a lot. And it seems that his grief goes beyond the "usual" time of grief. I quote both the DSM-5-TR and the ICD-11 on the matter of Prolonged Grief Disorder :

"Prolonged grief disorder represents a prolonged maladaptive grief reaction that can be diagnosed only after at least 12 months (6 months in children and adolescents) have elapsed since the death of someone with whom the bereaved had a close relationship" DSM-5-TR, Prolonged Grief Disorder, Diagnostic Criteria, Criterion A.

"Prolonged grief disorder is a disturbance in which, following the death of a partner, parent, child, or other person close to the bereaved, there is persistent and pervasive grief response characterised by longing for the deceased or persistent preoccupation with the deceased accompanied by intense emotional pain" ICD-11, Prolonged Grief Disorder, code 6B42.

The two books then go to length describing how it is usually followed with deep numbness or crying, and while I will accord to everyone that NRC!Lilia isn’t seen crying or completely numb regarding Maleanor and Raverne’s deaths, it isn’t really the case for General!Lilia. Yes, we see him crying only once, just after Maleanor’s death, but it is also said in the game that it took our peepaw around 200 years to hatch Malleus (for a plethora of reasons) and that, after that, Lilia travelled. A lot. Everywhere and anywhere. That he didn’t really spend a lot of time in Briar Valley during that time.

I’ll be really personal a second, but, as someone that has been recently diagnosed with Prolonged Grief Disorder, I tend to not cry a lot regarding the deaths that caused this disorder, and I am less numb today than I was a few years ago. But I still had a long period of time where I avoided places related to the deceased like the plague. And I somewhat still do (I mean. I changed countries to avoid memories.) and that leads me to my point about that disorder regarding Lilia.

The ICD-11 tells us that, in the Required Features for diagnosis :

"A persistent and pervasive grief response characterized by longing for the deceased or persistent preoccupation with the deceased accompanied by intense emotional pain. This may be manifested by experiences such as sadness, guilt, anger, denial, blame, difficulty accepting the death, feeling one has lost a part of one’s self, an inability to experience positive mood, emotional numbness, and difficulty in engaging with social or other activities." ICD-11, Prolonged Grief Disorder, code 6B42.

"Blame". Lilia blames himself for Maleanor’s death. He was supposed to be his Right General, the one that was supposed to protect her, even if she was perfectly able to care for herself. Yet, he ran away. With Malleus, yes. To protect the egg, yes. But he ran away. He left the princess to die.

And you know what is an additional feature of grief that is exacerbated with Prolonged Grief Disorder ?

"Persistent preoccupation may focus on the circumstances of the death or manifest as behaviours such as the preservation of all of the deceased person’s belongings exactly as they were before their death. " ICD-11, Prolonged Grief Disorder, code 6B42.

Malleus Overseer. Who is protecting Malleus tooth and nail ? Who acted really immature in Book 2 when Malleus was endangered during the Spelldrive tournament, causing a certain Lion to Overblot ? Who is the one that so fiercely loved Malleus that he managed to hatch him when it’s supposed to be the parent’s jobs ? Yeah. That alone can be a good example.

While I do think that Lilia made his peace with his grief, it’s still present, especially in how fiercely protective he is of Malleus. You can’t go years loving (romantically, platonically...) someone, see them dying and be just fine with that. Especially when the task of caring for the child of this person is relayed to you and not to the child’s living grandmother.

That leads me to my second point. The parentification of Lilia.

Maleficia is still alive. Why isn’t she the one to care for the unhatched Malleus ? As his maternal grandmother, she would have been perfectly able to love him and give him the magic necessary to hatch Malleus. Yet, that task was relayed to Lilia. Because he was the only person Maleanor was close enough to ask him for that ? She could’ve told him to bring the egg to her mother. But Maleanor asks Lilia to care for Malleus. Why ?

Parentification is a process where a child is asked to act as the parent to their caregivers. It is oftentimes present in dysfunctional families where the parents are addicts, or struggle with mental health. One of the best examples of parentification in media can be Brock in Pokemon, who has to care for his 9 siblings at a young age (he is 15 in the anime) while his parents are away doing Arceus knows what.

Thing is, Lilia isn’t a child. He’s 300 years old. A War General at that. He’s an adult. Not a child. So why do I bring parentification in that case ?

It is said at some point that Lilia was adopted by Queen Maleficia when he was very young and raised with Maleanor and Raverne. But, even with his status as a ward of the Queen, he was no noble. Thus, the role of looking after the stubborn princess fell onto his shoulders.

Yup. That’s parentification. Even while taking into account that he did not play the parent with Maleficia herself, he had, just like in so many cases of parentification, to care for someone his age or younger, a "sibling" of some sorts.

And when you grow up being the parent of another child, you stay the parent of that person well into adulthood (I, once again, have personal stories on that fact.). And it is very possible that Maleanor put this weight on Lilia’s shoulders because she knows she can rely on him, more than she can rely on her own mother (this is up to debate, of course, especially when seeing how Maleificia was/is somewhat present in Malleus’ life). And I feel like, in Maleanor’s head, at that moment, she knew that, because Lilia had cared for her when they were children, he would be able to care for Malleus as well. I mean, Lilia was the parental figure in Maleanor’s life in some ways, he would be able to be the parental figure in her child’s life as well.

(Well done, Maleanor, Lilia gained 1/2 of a child !)

So basically, our poor 300 year old General of the Right, Lilia Vanrouge suffers from parentification towards his childhood crush, but also a deep, Prolonged Grief regarding her death. What could be worse ?

PTSD !

(Let’s go deeper into the "I read the DSM and the ICD as a past time" shit I keep spewing at you !)

So. If you’re on Tumblr, I can assume you are aware of what PTSD, aka Posttraumatic Stress Disorder is. After further research, aka, I re-read the chapter on C-PTSD and I now have doubts on him having the complex form of the disorder, so let’s settle on just PTSD and not its complex form. The ICD-11 is a bit more understandable on what ptsd is, so here’s the WHO’s definition of Posttraumatic Stress Disorder :

"Post traumatic stress disorder (PTSD) may develop following exposure to an extremely threatening or horrific event or series of events. It is characterised by all of the following: 1) re-experiencing the traumatic event or events in the present in the form of vivid intrusive memories, flashbacks, or nightmares. Re-experiencing may occur via one or multiple sensory modalities and is typically accompanied by strong or overwhelming emotions, particularly fear or horror, and strong physical sensations; 2) avoidance of thoughts and memories of the event or events, or avoidance of activities, situations, or people reminiscent of the event(s); and 3) persistent perceptions of heightened current threat, for example as indicated by hypervigilance or an enhanced startle reaction to stimuli such as unexpected noises. The symptoms persist for at least several weeks and cause significant impairment in personal, family, social, educational, occupational or other important areas of functioning." ICD-11, Posttraumatic Stress Disorder, code 6B40.

And that’s where some people I read have doubts. And I mean, yeah. Me too. Because the diagnostic criteria specifically mentions an avoidance of everything reminiscent of the event(s), and Lilia seems fine.

Except he isn’t.

Remember when I said that his dreamscape was special, that, compared to the others, Lilia’s dream is just plainly a flashback ?

Yup. There you have it. Lilia still has flashbacks of the events that lead to Maleanor’s death, 400 years later.

Add to that, that PTSD is very common in veterans and you have the whole thing.

I saw someone say on Tumblr that they had this little theory that Lilia tended to sleep really late and game all night not just because he is a nocturnal fae, but because sleeping meant having flashbacks, remembering the war, the horrors, the loss.

Aka. Avoiding any thoughts of the events.

That man is raising the literal children of his childhood crush and the man who killed her, so he’s bound to have everyday memories of those two. And I mean. Malleus and Silver are literally a copy/pasted version of Maleaor and the Dawn Knight respectively. Poor Lilia can’t run away.

But isn’t seeing the next generation grow up in relative peace better than reliving the war, the bloodshed, Maleanor’s death every time he closes his eyes ? Malleus and Silver haven’t done anything, yet they bear the faces of people long lost, people that haunt Lilia every time he dares to try to sleep.

And I mean, why would he have picked up gaming when he came to NRC otherwise ? He already plays instruments and sings, artistic grounds that let the artist a window to their deepest secrets and fears. And Lilia raised Malleus and Silver, so he had 178 and 17 years to get used to those two copy/pasted children (really, Raverne, Leah, your genes haven’t even tried.), why would Lilia suddenly pick a new hobby ?

There is no real reason for that, unless the fact that Malleus and Silver, now nearing adulthood and thus the ages Maleanor and the Dawn Knight had before their respective deaths, are the reason for Lilia's flashbacks coming back full force. And what better coping mechanism than gaming to escape reality (Idia approves this) ?

(Okay, so, I feel like the more I analyse Lilia, the more I see my twin in him. It was already bad enough, it’s worse now, help.) Personal story time, but my twin also has PTSD (I do too, but mine is "milder" than hers.), hers is nearing the c-ptsd diagnosis to be honest. And we are nearing the age that the reason behind our shared grief, and beginning of our ptsd, was before that person died. And the closer my twin and I get to this age, the more my twin experiences really bad flashbacks about that person’s death.

Basically, I think that Lilia experiences the same with Silver and Malleus aging. Because the more adult they get, the closer they get to become like Maleanor and the Dawn Knight. And I think that in some, dark, traumatised part of himself, Lilia is scared that these two will get the same fate as Maleanor and the Dawn Knight (cough, end of Book 7, cough (okay, but not really, there is SO MUCH to say about the end of Book 7)), he is scared that he’ll have to go through that once again, scared that he’ll be alone once again. And this time ? Lilia is no longer 300 years old. He’s nearing the end of his life. And what is more scary for the living than to die alone, with the ghosts of your past mistakes as only companions ? Dying alone knowing that you failed to protect your loved ones not once, but twice.

So, Lilia games the night away, avoiding real sleep, avoiding dreaming.

And what does Malleus do ?

He locks everyone in dreams.

Well done Malleus.

No, really, I don’t hate Malleus for his overblot or anything, his, much like the other six overblotees, has his reasons to overblot, and is completely justified in that. But I find it ironic that Malleus’ will in his actions is to lock everyone in a "happy" place, somewhere where no one has to say goodbye, where you have everything you ever wanted. And that is more or less the case with most dreams. Except for Floyd’s Lilia’s dream. Everyone except Lilia (and Floyd, but that’s something else) is stuck in a real dream, something their brain has created to bring them some sort of comfort. That is why most of them are hella distressed when they are awakened (my poor Riddle...). But Lilia ? His dream isn’t some perfect world where Maleanor and Raverne stay alive. They still Die (and disappear for Raverne’s case), the Fae still lose the war, Lilia is still left alone to hatch Malleus, sacrificing his life and magic for the unborn heir before the Senate humiliates him for that action (I hate these guys nearly as much as I hate Riddle’s mother or Henrick.). Lilia isn’t in a dream. He’s struck in a fucking traumatic flashback that, if Silver, Sebek, Yuu and Grim hadn’t intervene to wake him up, would’ve lasted for fucking eternity.

In the name of Samael’s tears, Malleus I love you but you fucked up real bad here.

So that’s basically it, my proof that peepaw has deep PTSD (I’ll die on that hill. You can debate about the Prolonged Grief Disorder or the Parentification, but unless officially proven otherwise in canon, I’ll continue to claim high and proud that this veteran turned gaming grandpa has PTSD).

So, that’s basically it for the psychological analysis of our Peepaw, my dear dear Lilia Vanrouge. But I have something I’d like to add, not as an "I am sure of myself, this is my interpretation based on solid psychiatric evidences" but more in a "please correct me if I’m wrong, I just thought of that while doing my research" thing.

Hypermnesia. Basically, the opposite of amnesia.

Little etymology class, "mnesis" is the Ancient Greek term for "memory", the prefix "a-" is a privative (I think that’s the word in English) prefix, meaning "lack of" (the same prefix that is found in "asexual" and "aromantic" for example), so "amnesia" is the lack of memory. On the other hand, "hyper-" is another prefix (That I don’t have the specific name in English at all) that basically means "over" (like in "hypertension" or "hyperactive"), so hypermnesia would be having too much memory.

I think that Lilia’s trauma regarding the war and Maleanor’s death has caused him hypermnesia. He isn’t hypermnesic since birth, as highlighted with the fact that he doesn’t remember anything before becoming Queen Maleficia’s ward (how he became an orphan, who are his birth parents etc.) but he has really detailed memories of the whole war, Maleanor’s death and everything that follows. Like, his dream (sorry, flashback) is really over-detailed for something that happened 400 years ago. Like, most people can’t remember things that happened to them 5 years ago outside of really big event (Hey, do you remember how you reacted to the announcement of the Covid lockdown in your country ? Yup, that was five years ago.) and that guy clearly remembers something that happened to him 400 years ago. That’s 40 years in human years !

But again, I am a really, really bad example since I have dissociative amnesia, so, for me, it’s nearly impossible to remember traumatic events (and again, my condition is somewhat specific in some ways too)

Going back to Lilia and what I think could be trauma induced hypermnesia, we see in his dream that he had kinda forgotten proposing to Maleanor when they were children (around 200ish years before the events leading to the princess’ death) but starting from the war, he is able to recall in clear details everything that happened to him, from Maleanor’s death to making Malleus hatch, to finding and raising Silver.

And I mean, if a traumatised brain can shatter into different identities, if a traumatised brain can forget everything... Why wouldn’t a traumatised brain be able to remember everything in deep, clear details ?

Thing is, I haven’t found a lot of studies done on hypermnesia regarding their possible link to trauma (only have one hypermnesic and traumatised friend. And uh, they can’t be sure if they are hypermnesic since birth, or since their trauma), so, if anyone knows anything, please, do tell me, I really would like to know if Trauma-induced hypermnesia is possible.

Oh and unrelated, but I keep mentioning that Lilia has 1 ¾ sons, that’s basically because Silver is his adopted son (1), Malleus was hatched and partially raised by Lilia, but still has his grandmother (½) and Sebek was trained by peepaw, but still has his entire family (¼) that makes a total of 1 ¾ children, nothing more.

ANYWAYS ! That’s all I have concerning my inherent need to psychoanalyse anyone and everyone, especially Lilia. As I said in the beginning, I am still playing through Book 7, especially through Lilia’s dreamscape, so I might have missed tidbits and everything, so feel free to correct me if you see any errors.

I might go back trying to write a fanfic or some of my Lilia headcanons, who knows.

Have a nice day/night !

Pheni, out.

[another-goblin]

Let's examine some of the less talked about aspects of Dr. Ratio's relationship with the Genius Society as a character.

1. Did he really want to get into the GS?

The answer is, of course, a resounding yes! Or a confident no. Depending on who you ask. But what's the evidence?

The only direct evidence I could think of is this line from his pre-release interview on Hoyolab.

And whether or not it counts depends on whether you consider this kind of stuff canon (some people don't, since it's not in the game).

But at most, for me, it feels like an admission of a normal thing most young scientists would probably say (before he got completely disilusioned in the path of Erudition in particular and the divinity of the Aeons in general).

Like a young person who first gets into a sport might think about winning the Olympics. It doesn't feel like a passionate dream (the anime-esque "I'll dedicate my life to becoming a Genius whatewer it costs me").

What else do we have? His in-game fans' speculations and his former secretary's interpretation of a seemingly insignificant event (strictly speaking, that episode doesn't actually mean anything, let alone prove his wish to become a member of the GS. You can read me ranting about it here )

So the popular idea that his inability to attract Nous' gaze played a big role in his life and psyche seems more like a fan-popular headcanon (that might be the intended interpretation, but still a HC) than a strict reading of the canon. But who can blame us? This man desperately needed a personal inner conflict, and we kind of invented it.

2. What was the narrative point of making him not a member of the GS? What would have changed if he were a Genius?

I'm still not sure.

What distinguishes him from the Geniuses?

Is it the idea that the GS members only do their science for the sake of Nous? And aquire knowledge for the sake of it?

But we have Stephen, who invents things for fun. We have Chadvick, who built that weapon out of hubris. We have Herta, who kind of treats Nous as an equal. We have Dr. Primitive, who just does whatever because he's evil (what's the scientific value of turning people into monkeys?). Or that guy (forgot his name) who seemed to genuinely care about humanity. None of them seem fanatically dedicated to Erudition.

And we have Polka, who seems to be even more of a hater of what GS stands for than Ratio.

Wouldn't it be fun to have a Genius Ratio who saw all the problems with Erudition after he joined, got disillusioned and turned into what he's now, and who's just miserable about it all the time? Because becoming a GS member seems to be a one-way road. How ironic would it be for a genius to preach the idea of how people should not rely on geniuses?

But maybe they didn't make him a Genius to be able to make him join the Intelligentsia Guild?

But the only purpose of that seems to be his connection to Aventurine (the IG being partners with the IPC).

Otherwise, he doesn't represent the IG's values at all. He doesn't see knowledge as a commodity. (He even got angry at Sunday for expecting him to exchange the knowledge of Aventurine's plans for some knowledge on Stellarons). In most cases, all the other characters are very typical representatives of their factions. But in his case I'm not sure why he's in the IG either. Probably just a faction for him to belong to, because we can't have a character who doesn't belong to a world or a faction.

The only potentially interesting thing I can see about the IG is him being a member of the Council of Mundenites. But they did literally nothing with it. Although I still hope that they will (but who am I kidding, with the amount of ongoing plotlines and the new ones they establish left and right, they just won't have time for that)

Btw the IG in general seems like a lot of wasted potential. They had a whole SU update dedicated to it, and they did basically nothing interesting with it. But it's a topic for another discussion.

3. Why didn't he attract the gaze of Nous?

The game doesn't give us any strict criteria of how Nous chooses people, so we can only speculate. I know there are a ton of theories, but they are still theories (I think the one that's supposed to be correct is something about him caring more about helping people help themselves than doing science for the sake of it, but it has been discussed to death already).

But I never saw people talking about my favorite theory, and my main takeaway from Unknowable Domain - the mind-blowing discrepansy between the intellegence of a Genius and that of a very smart normal person. (How Patavia, one of the best IG's scientists, wasn't a match for Herta even with Patavia's intelligence multiplied tens of thousands of times by the scepters).

Which tells me that the intelligence required to become a member of the GS isn't a matter of just being smart or studying hard, but rather a matter of being born a VERY special person. I mean, if you were born an ant, no amount of training would make you as strong as an elephant.

Let's take Stephen Lloyd, a kid who's mostly busy working in his dad's fruit stall and playing video games all day long and sometimes just effortlessly inventing mind-blowing technology in his free time, basically for fun. I don't remember any mentions of his education either. And let's compare him to child Ratio from his professor's recollections. How he worked his ass off from a young age, basically sacrificing his childhood, only to just skip a couple of grades and get into uni early.

And if my interpretation is true, it could play very well into the underlying topic of predeterminism/destiny/fatalism vs. freedom/unknowability the game establishes.

This would turn Ratio's rather simplistic supposed inner conflict of "boo-hoo, senpai Nous didn't notice me and didn't invite me into their cool kids club" into something much more interesting: Dr. Ratio, whose whole life goal seems to be about helping people take the responsibility for their lives into their own hands and stop counting on the higher powers, realizing that the biggest dream of his life could never come true and literally no human or inhuman amount of efforts would get him here. He would never achieve something others can do effortlessly just because he wasn't destined to.

The other interpretation works too: there are mentions of the Geniuses "communing" with Nous after attracting their gaze, so maybe their inhuman intelligence is partly the result of that. Not being able to achieve by hard work and sheer dedication what others just receive from a deity would clash nicely with his "anti-theist" philosophy too. Or maybe explain his current views. I mean, there is a certain sarcastic reverence in how he talks about Geniuses, distinguishing them from humans as a separate category.

What's ironic and kind of sad is that the game proves him wrong over and over again. I mean, who are the most powerful characters, both in-universe and in terms of meta? It's not normal humans who worked hard. Normal humans do nothing but wait to be saved by supernaturally or technologically enhanced beings (mostly us). And sometimes even by Veritas "Normal Person" Ratio himself.

[erwinsvow]

Ok i don't know how we feel about daddy kinks here not trying to be in enemy territory (love you)

But hear me out on robby figuring out he has a daddy kink after making fun of guys his age for it.😂 hes like, "It just seems cringe and immature" hes already dating a yonger woman he doesnst need more stereotypes and then you accidentally moan it in her ear while riding him one day, and he was like, "Wait a minute am -am I into this?"

you are so sweet for asking so considerately about it. unfortunately i have evolved past daddy kink and now live full time in dad kink territory which is just as fun (to me). idk something about calling a man dad just really does it for me. don’t even get me started on calling robby or jack dad…. for your sake ill assume you don’t share my passion for dad™️

robby thinks so many things about men who date younger women (including himself when he dated heather because we are NOT excluding that tidbit) but he honestly thinks if both people are mature and ready for the relationship then no one would be wanting to call or be called daddy. he thinks it’s cringey and makes a Totally Normal Guy Like Him look weird for dating younger girls because people are assuming there’s something weird and kinky behind it. of course there’s nothing of the sort officer! nothing weird about praising you and telling you how good and perfect you are for him, for getting a kiss everytime you listen to him, sneaking in subtle ways to praise you even at work even in front of others just so he can appreciate how flustered you get. that is just all Normal Guy Things, has nothing to do with daddy kinks or daddy issues or anything else when he glares at people who even give you two a weird look while walking down the street together. unfortunately you would not subscribe to this belief; better yet you’d try to cover it up and hide it so robby doesn’t think you’re one of these weirdos he’s always muttering about (he is in massive denial). and then one day you’re getting full princess treatment complete with orgasms of a number you cannot remember and limbs like jello but when he tells you you’re gonna get on top and he’s gonna help you, you whine out a small, barely there yes daddy and it’s kind of game over from there. but he’s in denial right so he fucks up into you crazy hard and makes you cum again and again until you say it again (acting so innocent like his devious plan didn’t just work). and then that night after you pass out he’s just like well.. maybe they had a point

[gone-fish-mode]

i just need everyone to know that i about had a come apart last night. someone spilt orange orbeez everywhere and they looked so much like roe that i had to put them down and look away because i needed them in my mouth desperately. -10/10 please please please let me put things in my mouth i am completely normal and can be trusted not to eat things i shouldn't

[dancingaliensfics]

On the whole Remmick being a cringefail loser thing, I so completely agree. Y'know the whole vampire hivemind thing and the way Cornbread was acting after being turned, I fully believe that was mostly Remmick puppeteering the guy in that scene with the "being kind to one another" thing and all that. And maybe that moment wasn't as endearingly cringe and awkward and off as I perceived it but it totally affects the way I view Remmick's character. This is a former human being, we all understand that humans have complex feelings and emotions and ways of thinking... and all humans require companionship and a sense of community or belonging. This is an old, old human who seems to have been without true companionship for a long while. Unable to truly connect, that fact stemming from his culture being snatched away from him (a point I am sympathetic to as an indigenous person who had the same thing done to me). I think him becoming a vampire happened around the same time, so you could also say losing his humanity made him unable to connect also. He wants it, wants his culture and his people and his family (and maybe his humanity) all back with him. He's old, and he's desperate, and he's lonely, and he's hungry. To me, he'll always be a wanting thing. Vampires inherently represent an insatiable appetite in my eyes.

Sorry for ranting, I just think all of the main characters in Sinners are all so interesting and I'm so obsessed with this film. Both because of the true meaning and because of the creative potential it hands me as someone who loves to analyze characters and write self indulgent fanfiction. And I love vampires, specifically Irish vampires. I blame Proinsias Cassidy for it.

YESYES I COMPLETELY AGREE.

To me, remmicks character is about yearning and desperation and loneliness. Yes he's manipulative and a lot his actions are just an act but behind it all is a true desperation.

When he comes to the juke joint and tries to get in, it's clear he doesn't understand black people and the race tensions of the time. When he talks to Mary, he moves way to quickly into the whole let me turn you into a vampire thing. I would never deny his manipulation but he's also a person who fails miserably at it occasionally. It's likely if he's taken his time, things would've gone much better for him. There's a good chance Mary would've told stack to let them in if he'd just been normal for a few minutes. But he's desperate and inpatient.

And please never apologise for ranting in my inbox, I love it so much

[max1461]

The thing is, ok. I don't think what's going on with me is PTSD, per last post on the topic. But there's clearly trauma involved since a huge chunk of the weird perceptual/emotional stuff is related to [traumatic life event].

And oh my god oh my god I want to kill myself. Like I just. I've been trying to focus on the medical aspect because it's what I feel I can do something about, but fundamentally... I don't care what the underlying explanation is, this feels like it's

Have I explained this part? It feels like it's progressively rewriting my memories and feelings. So like it could take a positive memory and make me remember it as scary, for instance, or it could insert a detail into a memory that wasn't there, or it could change the way I perceive a topic completely, etc. And the deal is that these rewrites are sticking, I wake up the next day and they're not back to normal, they're still rewritten. And a lot of them are being rewritten in really fucked up scary ways that are hard to live with.

Like, basically, this is so scary and I can't even. It's too scary. Even if it gets 100% fixed I doubt I'm gonna forget all this scary shit, I feel like I will have to keep reminding myself it's not real for the rest of my life, and I don't want to. And I don't want to live with the rewritten feelings because they are just awful. They're not the way I really feel. I'm so scared. Literally I just feel like, holy fuck help me this is not ok. I don't even know what I'm trying to say here. I literally feel like I'm in a horror movie, I literally feel like I am in a horror movie. I'm frightened. I don't know what to do.

I literally feel like I am in a horror movie. I feel the thing that you feel when the person is about to open the door that a ghost is behind? I am so scared. I feel so violated, I feel really really violated. I can't even describe how this feels.

[jollyhunter]

You are so very welcome! Re: your other feedback; I am, too, so grateful for our growing friendship and all the fun, deep (and sometimes panicked lmao) discussions we have. 💗

OF COURSE it had to be potatoes. How could you celebrate your birthday without your soul-uh, soul-vegetable? (is a potato classified as a vegetable...?). ANYWAY. It was so much fun to think of a case about potatoes. My google history's not littered with potato research websites XD

DEAD ☠️🤣- Girl, the unhinged Dean is giving me life! 🙌🏻

Gotta love when he acts a bit unhinged, our babygirl 😂

Oh I can already imagine the trainwreck of Dean doing a guest lecture of this- Dean accidentally knocking things off pedestals, thinking that something is unbreakable and tapping it on the desk only to have it shatter into a million pieces (like Uncle Buck), Dean literally mispronouncing everything and getting that cute smile/pressing his lips together while he tries to figure out what on earth he can pull out of his butt to make people he knows what he's talking about...

YESSS YOU GET IT. That's EXACTLY the way I imagined his teaching lesson would play out 🤣 "accidentally knocking things off pedestrals" has me CRYING and then "thinking something is unbreakable and tapping it on the deskt only to have it shatter into a million pieces" LMFAO - I'M DEAD 💀 And yes yes yes about the mispronounciation and cute smile/pressed lips - he would absolutely be a trainwreck 😂

You've given me a little bit of professor!Dean and I am rabid. 👀🥵 Also I feel like if Dean was in there lecturing it would be kinda how Shawn is in Psych so thank you for giving me that reminder 🥰

At least a tiny bite of it. 😏 Good thing you didn't have to wait long until @zepskies served us with the real deal of professor!Dean 🥵💗

Aww I love their little meet cute! I'm so clumsy so her literally dropping all her papers and then scrambling papers is so me coded- AND THE BLUSH AND THE HEAD DUCK! I cannot make eye contact with attractive men to save my life, it really is me being so awkward and trying my best find ways out of eye contact- lots of blushing, lots of mumbling 😅

I'm glad this reader resonates with you! To be honest, I was a bit shy with the personality traits because I was afraid of getting them completely wrong. 🙈 (Hehe, I thought of the reader in Promise Not To Fall In Love With Me 👀 )

And him literally almost breaking the relics is so Dean coded lol. I can see him pulling one of those bits where he's almost juggling the thing to catch it before he almost drops it 😂

THE JUGGLING THING. Bet he'd just let out a very pressed chuckle, trying to play it cool, "Eh-heh-heh... It was old anyway, right?"

I think my favorite thing about this fic is that the reader is having a completely normal reaction to hearing everything that Dean and Sam are talking about on the phone. I love that the reader you wrote has no idea how anything in the supernatural world works- I mean I love me a hunter!reader, but there really is something about reading a reader who literally acts as if she was placed in supernatural from the real world that is just so fun!

I wasn't sure at first which path I should go, but I felt like a civillian!reader would be more fun for what's to come in the second part. Glad you liked it - pheew! 🥰

Jolly, I absolutely loved every bit of this and I am so excited for the next part! Thank you so much for writing this for me and thinking of me on my birthday 🥰 You're such a sweet friend and ILYSM for this!💚

Again, you're so welcome! I can't wait to post the second part and see you're reaction to the craziness (once I've had the time to finish it, sorry, I'm slow OTL). Love you too, sweet friend! 💗

The Potato Summoning *1

HAPPY BIRTHDAY SWEETIE !!! This is for you 🧡 ENJOY!

⋆ ˚｡⋆ CHARACTERS Dean Winchester x @lamentationsofalonelypotato , Sam's also there!

WARNINGS Pure Crack (especially next part), Canon Violence / Swearing, Reader (Lee) is a student at the university, POV's all over the place (imgine it like in an episode)

⋆ ˚｡⋆ SUMMARY Dean must go undercover at a university to solve a weird case of a series of deaths involving potatoes.

⋆ ˚｡⋆ WORDS 2,4k

⋆ ˚｡⋆ J / NOTE Would you believe me if I was to tell you that this was meant to be a drabble or an imagine, but I suddenly imagined it like an episode and just kept going, and now I had to stop myself before your birthday's over and instead make a two part mini series out of this??? Anway, I hope you like it so far, hun! <3

Dean ducks under the police tape, walking up to the body covered by a white sheet, sprawled out in the middle of the campus, while straightening his fake FBI uniform. He's closely followed by his younger brother who almost tore down the tape as he had tripped over his long legs, earning himself an amused smirk of Dean's.

Sam mutters an annoyed, "Shut up, jerk." under his breath, before his focus shifts to the victim in front of them.

"Sure, Sasquatch," Dean quips and leans down to pull back the sheet, uncovering the face of a guy who looks like he's been in his early 20s. The bright sun reflects in eyes wide in shock, the angular face partially framed by middle long, blond hair that's stuck to his sidebuns.

"Isn't that the douchebag who sexually harassed a girl the other day?" Dean asks with a raised eyebrow.

"Yeah, Tommie Parsons," Sam huffs through his nose while he flips his notebook open, "That's the third student in two months who dropped dead at exactly 1PM. What do you think? Revengeful spirit perhaps?"

"Or a curse..." - Dean hums and straightens his back to look after a group of female students passing by the crime scene tape, while he continues to mutter, - "Whatever it is, it didn't hop the Blue Line... so it's gotta be tied to the place." His focus returns to Sam, his eyebrows wiggling.

"Looks like we're going back to university, Sammy."

"You mean, I'm going back," Sam retorts with an amused roll of his eyes.

While Dean tries and fails to bite back with some witty comeback, Sam's focus returns to the victim at his feet once more. His eyes roam the poor guy's crumpled body when he suddenly spots something. He tilts his head to the side and crouches down next to him.

"Huh, check this out... Looks like he has something stuck in his throat?" Sam observes with narrowed eyes.

Dean grins smugly while poking the small bulge with the tip of his black leather shoe. It bobs under the pressure and Sam shoots him a side-eye when the surrounding police officers start to watch them with skepticism.

"Ha, I bet he's not used to having something shoved down his throat like that.” Dean stays unperturbed and grins down at the horror-stricken, pale face, “Karma’s a real bitch, huh, Timmy?"

The next Day.

"C'mon, man, couldn't it have been something sexier? Like a sex ed or at least a sports teacher?" Dean grumbles with the phone clasped between his shoulder and ear, fingers fumbling with his tie.

"You wanted the job, don't blame me. It was the only thing available." Sam answers through the phone.

"Yeah but, a - a-" he shifts his phone to his hand and squints at his campus ID "- ‘Expert in South American Household Traditions’, seriously? The hell's that even supposed to mean?"

"You're only a guest mentor. You'll wing it, Dean." Sam sighs on the other side of the call, "Just focus on digging up some dirt on our victims and I'll have a look at our Deep Throater at the morgue."

"Yeah, yeah," Dean mutters while rounding the corner of the hallway, eyes darting around in search of his classroom, "Why can't they label this goddamn maze? This is rid- Agk-" his sentence breaks off into a grunt as he knocks into something.

Or rather, someone.

You land on your ass, papers gone flying across the floor. Wincing and rubbing your forehead which had collided with his hard shoulder.

"Damn, sorry, didn't see ya there," He apologizes and reaches out a hand towards you to pull you back to your feet, "You okay?"

"Yeah, all good," you mumble, patting down your skirt to smooth it out. You notice the scattered papers with a sigh and bend down to quickly collect your papers, "I'm late, sorry-" you mutter without looking at the guy once and about to dash past him when he suddenly interrupts you.

"Uh- Me too, actually. You wouldn't happen to know where I'm supposed to go?" He shoots you a crooked smile and points at his name tag reading "Dr. Phil. Page".

Your eyes widen, and for the first time travel up to meet his emerald ones, intense and glinting in the harsh light of the hallway.

"You're- you're our guest mentor for our special exhibition?"

"Yep. Households expert and the whole package," he chuckles a bit nervously, rubbing the back of his neck, "That'd be me."

The air gets stuck in your throat for a moment and the heat's rushing to your cheeks. He looks cute. And he's really young for a Dr. Phil.?

"Ah," you snap out of it and continue in a flustered manner, "Follow me, Mr. Page, I'm in your class. We gotta hurry tho!"

"Alright then. Lead the way, sweetheart," he smiles at you and your cheeks take a faint pink at the way he called you. But you quickly avert your eyes before you both hurry down the hallway with Dean following you closely.

Four hours and a very 'interesting' take on 'South American Household Traditions' later, you and the rest of the students flock in the canteen of the university.

Your mind keeps going back to your guest mentor. Despite the fact that he almost broke one of the relics of their special Inca exhibition, most certainly got every single date and object wrong and referred to a staff as a 'pokey stick', you couldn't ignore the fact that he had something charming, intriguing even.

Your circling thoughts are interrupted when a voice behind you has you turn to look over your shoulder, canteen tray in your hands. Behind you standing in line, is no other than your new mentor.

"Hey," he nods at you, lips quirked into a confident smirk, "How'd I do?"

"Uhm," you hesitate, mind racing for a kind way to tell him that he'd managed to butcher traditions worth thousands of years in just four hours.

"It was, uh... quite unique?" Mhm, real smooth. You facepalm internally.

"That bad, huh?" he chuckles and holds his plate out for a sausage, his eyes flickering back to yours as they crinkle, amused, "In my defence, it was my first teaching. And I kept getting distracted, y'know." He winks. Your ears flush and you giggle, trying your best to ignore the fact that it almost seems like your mentor is trying to flirt with you.

"Mind if I join you?" he asks casually and nods at the teacher table in the corner, "Ms. Tingles back there is giving me the creeps.”

Your eyes follow his and a cold shiver runs down your back when they settle on your history teacher. Hawk-like eyes of an elder woman bore into yours, face lined with sharp contours and a beak-like nose. And mostly, feared by all.

"Yeah," you breath with a shudder, voice dropped to a mere murmur, just in case the hold hag had developed super hearing, "Miss Tinkle's a real charmer." Dean chuckles amused at your sarcastic tone.

You hand your plate to the next lady who adds a portion of French fries to your meat. And Dean follows suit once you continue to pick your favourite sauce along the fries.

"Here love," the lady scoops Dean an extra portion onto the plate, "You look hungry," she smiles at him motherly. Dean's eyebrows shoot up, a surprised grin forming on his face.

“Well, ain’t you just a sweet peach,"- he leans in to read her name tag before he looks up again and shoots her a boyish grin -"Susan. You keep feeding me like this, and I might just have to stick around permanently."

You both took a seat at one of the outdoor tables, Dean sliding into the bench across of you. It's a lively place, students chattering around you while the atmosphere is warmed by a sunny spring day.

"You sure you want to sit with me, Mr. Page...?" you ask once you've settled down, afraid that he might have only followed you around because he didn't want you to sit alone. He nods, muffling a " 'course" between the French Frie he's chewing on before he swallows and his tongue darts out to lick the salt off his fingertips, eyes never leaving you.

"But you-"

"Just call me Dean," he interjects, that flirty smile spread across his face again, "What's your name, sweetheart?"

"I'm Lee," you smile sheepishly and stroke one of your brown locks past your glasses and behind your ears. He repeats your name under his breath, his smile widening for a fraction.

Then he clears his throat, his face taking on a more serious note.

"Can I ask you, Lee, did you know a Tommie Parsons by any chance?"

"Parsons?" You echo the name, lips twitched into a disgusted frown, "Yeah, heard plenty of him. He was a real ass. And a pervert." As you speak your mind, you realize what you'd just said and you quickly try to allay any wrong impressions, "Not that he'd deserved to die, of course."

"Of course," Dean repeats with a slightly arched eyebrow, "Mind telling me what you know abou-"

He doesn't get to finish his sentence when all of a sudden a loud noise tears through the lively chattering, followed by a girl screaming in panic.

Dean, hunter instincts kicking in, leaps off his seat and instinctively reaches for the colt hidden at the back of his waist, eyes darting around when they zero in on a guy at one of the tables.

He's pale as a sheet, wheezing and heaving like a cat that's trying to produce a furball. Dean's hand hovering over the colt falters.

"Hey- what's the matter?" He asks as he darts over to the table, eyes snapping back and forth between the guy and what was presumably his girlfriend next to him.

"I- I don't know- he just-" the girl stammers, but gets interrupted by her boyfriend's kecking sounds.

"C-c-an't- b-b-" his voice cracks and he doubles over, retching terribly. Dean's hands hover over his back, cursing under his breath, "Shit - hey, c'mon, talk to me!" Eyes roaming his writhing body, he notices how a bulge at his throat starts to form, bobbing right above his Adam's Apple.

Oh no-

The watch on his wrist reads 12:59.

He looks around the place, eyes narrowed as he scans every face in the forming crowd, like he's expecting a witch or a spirit to hide among them. Sure enough, his gaze meets Miss Tinkle. Watching the entire show from the doorway to the canteen, her eyes cold as they lock with his. Dean's jaw clenches, mind racing.

The hunter's attention is suddenly drawn to a backpack on the floor next to them. He looks up at the girl, voice sharp as he prompts, "Is this his?" She nods, trembling.

Without missing a beat, he lunges for the backpack and turns it upside down, its contents spilling across the ground.

"Come on, come on, where's that damn thing-" he grits out, hands rifling through the contents in vain, "Damn it!"

Standing on the sidelines, you can only watch in horror as your classmate scrambles for his water glass, sending fries flying everywhere as he does so, before his face begins to turn blue - and the next thing you know, he slips off his chair and hits the floor.

His body twitches once or twice.

Silence.

Then the campus gong goes off to signal it's exactly 1 o'clock.

Dean leans against the wall of the deserted staircase in one of the university's buildings.

"There was no hexbag," he mutters into the phone, fingers rubbing the spot between his eyebrows, "I don't get it, man. What the hell are we dealing with here?"

"It wasn't your fault, Dean. There was nothing you could've done to save him." Sam reassures him, voice soft even through the crackling phone.

"I should've. I was right there... Damn it."

"You tried your best, okay? You wanna hear what I found out in the morgue? The thing in the guy's throat?"

Dean sighs and runs a hand down his mouth before he regains his usual tone, "Yeah, hit me."

"A potato."

Dean blinks like he must've misheard him.

"A what now?"

"I'm serious. Like a fully grown, unpeeled, raw potato."

"Oh give me a break."

"Just reporting the news," Sam scoff-chuckles and continues to explain, "It even had the dirt on it still. Like it had just been dug up and magically zapped next to his windpipe."

"O- okay- uh, that's a new one," he comments, still confused, "So how's that fit our theory?"

"I'm not sure," Sam mutters, "I was thinking maybe it has something to do with what they ate. If it's not them who're marked by the curse, maybe it's the food?"

"Food?" Dean mutters.

Then his eyes widen in realization. His throat suddenly feels oddly tight, his hand instinctively rubbing his Adam's Apple.

"Oh no..." he gulps, face scrunched up into a grimace.

"What's the matter?"

"Son of a bitch jinxed the fries."

Sam's silent for a moment, then scoffs.

"And lemme guess-"

" 'Course I did, Sammy! It's friggin' French Fries, man!" he arguments before his brother can even finish his (correct) assumption. He turns on his heels in frustration, gaze passing by the window when his voice suddenly drops to a hushed one, "Hold on-"

Sam's questioning voice is now being muffled as Dean clamped his hand over the phone, his focus drawn to a loud discussion below the window in the staircase.

"Christ on a Stake - Bob! I said 'order one hundred potatoes', not 'enough to feed the entire goddamn town'!" An elder man shouts, hands flailing around.

Presumably the cook, judging by his clothings.

"I- I'm sorry sir, I - I didn't- " the boy stammers while he desperately tries to keep the gigantic pile of potato sacks from burying him alive.

Then a new, female voice cuts through the argumentation, her voice final and yet smooth, like poisonous honey, "Don't be so harsh with the kid, Jeff. I bet it was just a mistake. Besides, it could've been worse, right? Everyone loves potatoes."

Dean shifts behind the window, just enough to catch a glimpse at the new stranger.

His jaw clenches at the familiar face;

Miss Tinkle.

He raises his phone back to his ear, his voice low and tight, "You get the witch-killing bullets ready. I'll scope out the canteen and torch their storage room tonight, just in case... before anyone else eats of this cursed crap."

...

Behind the corner of the last step of the staircase, hidden in the shadows... is you. Pressed up against the wall. Hand clasped over your mouth to muffle your ragged breath. Heart racing along your reeling mind.

Witch-killing bullets? What the hell is he talking about? Is he trying to kill someone? And why does he plan on breaking into the canteen tonight to burn their food..?

J / NOTE @lamentationsofalonelypotato (and anyone else for that matter :D ) You have any guesses what's going on yet? 😏

Dean Tags List

@aylacavebear @jc-winchester @ambiguous-avery @bettystonewell @lyarr24

@ladysparkles78 @v1v1-3 @maddie0101 @livya99 @supernotnatural2005

@Ms-kayla-readinglover @youdontknowe @zepskies @waynes-multiverse @123password

@champagnepoets @salemslostwitch @chevroletdean @multiversefanfics @toxicfataldestiny

*Disclaimer: Images and gifs are from Pinterest.*

[gilmorenights]

Ok now that I’ve had time to actually process chapter 27 of and they were roommates I can actually talk about it coherently (aka gush about my favorite parts) so spoilers ahead if you haven’t read it yet!!

First and foremost, Hugo’s character arc was done so fucking well. Seriously, it’s one of the best versions of Hugo I’ve read and I think about it on a daily basis. Comparing Hugo in chapter one to Hugo in the newest one, it’s amazing to see how far he’s come and how much he’s changed. Him helping out with this entire dance for an entirely selfless reason just really cemented that. Also the fact that when Varian asked him about it, he didn’t shoot back with some snarky reply like he could’ve, he told the truth. Again, he’s come so far and being able to watch him change little by little is such an amazing thing to read.

THE DECODED NOTES? DUDE. The fact that the one thing that kept him going this whole time- the one thing that had him keeping everyone else, Varian specifically, at arm’s length- is something he doesn’t even need to worry about anymore? The fact that he’s spent so long scrambling to secure his destiny, believing that at any moment, it could just be ripped away, just to learn that he doesn’t need to worry about it disappearing anymore? Absolute fucking perfection. The whole monologue about Hugo finally being able to live without being in constant survival mode was so beautiful and well written and ughhhhh I can’t. “Now that was all over. The Storybook saw him. Needs were as good as met. So, what. did. Hugo. want?” AND THEN THE PART A LITTLE FURTHER DOWN WHERE HE REALIZES HE WANTS VARIAN IN HIS LIFE OMFG IM DEAD/vpos

Varian accidentally spam texting Hugo out of worry that he wouldn’t know where the dance had been moved to was literally so sweet, like bro was freaking tf out but honestly? Valid, I would’ve done the same thing.

THEIR OUTFITS HELLO? GODDAMN YALL WEREN’T MESSING AROUND THIS CHAPTER I WASN’T EXPECTING TO BE BLESSED WITH ART BUT HOLY SHITTTT! The colors, the outfits, the expressions, the details, everything just aowjsosjsbksissj

Varian allowing himself to crush on Hugo without shoving it down or pushing it away was so adorable and well deserved after being in denial for so long 👏👏 and he’s so flustered and completely lost when it comes to matters of the heart. The way he just kept rambling when asking Hugo to dance just for Hugo to be like “I’m barely hearing you, wanna dance?” Was so fucking funny to me. I also loved that Varian thinks of his crush like an experiment and how he was gathering data and evidence to analyze how Hugo feels about him. Idk there’s just something about Varian reverting to science, something familiar, when he’s in an unfamiliar situation that is so special and dear to me.

AND THE SCENE WHERE THE LIGHTS CUT OUT AND HUGO WAS FREAKING OUT THINKING THEY GOT CAUGHT AND HE AND VARIAN WERE TRYING TO FIND EACH OTHER WAS LITERALLY SO GOOD I CANT. The povs switching back and forth while they were searching for each other was so suspenseful and added so much to the moment overall, it was one of my top 3 moments of the chapter.

Another top three moment? Hugo and Varian working together to make the bubble lights. I am a sucker for these two working together because they’re such fucking geniuses, they’re the definition of “great minds think alike”. This moment was another amazing example of character development for both of them because it shows how comfortable they are working together and how they’re close/familiar enough with each other to be on the same page. Not only that, but the little part where Hugo asks if Varian’s sure the chemicals won’t blow up the glove and Varian replies “I’m 85% sure it won’t blow up the whole thing.” And Hugo locks the mixture in? TRUST. IT SHOWS THAT HE TRUSTS VARIAN FULLY AND AGH I CANT BE NORMAL ABOUT THIS

Varian. Confessed. Not only did he confess, he said I LOVE YOU??? I think a part of my soul left my body when I read that cuz WHAT??? OH MY GOSH??? YOU CANT JUST DO THAT TO A GIRL WITHOUT WARNING (all jokes of course and like I said in my other post, vibrating out of my skin just thinking about it). That being said, I’m terrified for the next chapter because Hugo is a wild card and there’s a big part of me that feels like he’s going to run or avoid it or mess it up somehow (please let me be wrong)

Uhhhh ok now that all of my yapping is out of the way here’s a small list of other things I loved with little to no explanation

Ashlynn coming out as a rebel, I LOVE YOU GIRL

Farrah doing everybody’s outfits

People complimenting Varian’s alchemy, he needed that validation

THE SLOW DANCING

THE KNUCKLE KISS OMFG HUGO!!!

Hugo not even having to say his “it’s not hard to hold things over your head” joke for Varian to understand

Varian slamming the door open when he returned to the dorm 😭

Hugo questioning whether or not Donella is right after worrying about what she said for so long

Hugo crying because he’s upset for Varian instead of being happy for himself (more phenomenal character development)

The lore, the lore, the LORE. THE LORE IS SO FUCKING COOL

Anyway that’s it thank you all for coming to my (too long) yap session and @dreadpirateurania13 I hope you know how phenomenal your writing is and that I think about this fic every day 🙏

[mikkomacko]

My brain is in angst with a happy ending writing mode: babies edition so here’s Luke with the twins I guess. (with a lil brotherly bonding fluff)

Two things have been permanently on Luke’s mind since Reader got pregnant: “What can I do to make sure my Mama is okay?” and “Oh my god what am I supposed to do with a baby, I’m going to break them”. Don’t get him wrong, Luke loves those girls more than anything (those ARE his sisters/nieces/something in between?), but he is terrified of hurting them or not knowing how to connect with them. 1. He’s super clumsy and babies are extremely fragile. 2. He doesn’t know what a normal childhood looks like. Sure he had some good years before his dad got sick, but he hardly remembers those. What he does remember is sitting in hospital waiting rooms and staring at the same movie playing on the TV in the pediatric wing for the third time that night. He remembers Quinn skipping school more often to work a part time job so they could eat for the last couple of months before he left. He remembers crawling into Jack’s bed at night and asking him when Quinn is coming home. Other than their birthdays, Luke doesn’t remember how to play or have fun like a kid, and that makes him terrified that he won’t be able to connect with them twins. Obviously he can’t talk to Reader about this, she has so much on her plate already, and Nico didn’t exactly have the best childhood either, so he goes to Alex. His logic being “Alex is the closest thing I know to a child so surely that will work”. He figures that he had to have had some kind of whimsy in his childhood or at least knows what kids like, I mean the guy rollerblades everywhere and watches Bluey by himself, so he goes to Alex and ask So. Many. Question. He’s with Alex for a couple hours talking without even realizing it (at least not until he got hungry) and afterwards he feels so much lighter. Not because he thinks he would know what to do with a baby right now, but because he feels reassured that he has more than just Jack and the parents to turn to for help if he struggles with the twins.

-🦉

The closest thing he has to a child is Alex just made me burst out laughing. You’re so right, though. All the boys still view Alex as the baby of the Devs especially knowing how reader babies him.

Imagine Luke sitting at the table with him for breakfast like “Can I talk to you about something?”

And Alex is just like “yeah of course bud.”

“I’m scared we’re not going to know what to do with Baby Hisch. Like what do kids even like?”

Luke is genuinely so worried and nervous, meanwhile Alex is just shrugging around a bite of cereal. “All I know is that mom and Nico know everything so it’ll be fine.”

But Luke isn’t giving up that easily. He starts quizzing Alex.

“What did you do for fun when you were a kid?”

Completely serious Alex is like “I liked to hide from my dad when he got home from work.”

“Oh like hide and seek?”

“No like he was angry and I was scared he was going to hit me.”

“Oh. What about when you were older?”

“You mean when I was homeless? Or before that?”

Luke is starting to think that maybe Alex’s childhood was even worse than his, but he turned out happy and fine so something must have gone right.

“What’s your best memory? Like from your childhood?”

“Probably when Nico and y/n picked me up from the airport and took me for food.”

They go back and forth for hours, Alex sharing all these fun little moments he remembers and Luke starts to pick out the pattern. Anytime reader or Nico fed him, tucked him into bed, took him sight seeing in New York, just made him feel seen were his favorite.

And while Luke still doesn’t really know how you do that for a baby, at least he knows he cares enough to try. Which seems to be the best thing to happen to Alex and him and Jack.