#sometimes i think people don't know how much i love him | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

starshinedreamer · 12 hours ago

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Alrighty y'all, grab a chair and get comfy whilst I yap about my son, my pride and joy, the greatest thing to ever happen to me, my D&D OC: Raymond Foxwood. He is a Wood Elf Druid with the Researcher background and a Neutral-Good alignment (Images at the very end).

I haven't figured out what his voice sounds like yet. I'm thinking he may kind of have an accent? But like it's barely there. I do have an idea for a possible Japanese voice claim: Souta from the movie Suzume.

His best friend? I guess it would be my friend's D&D character. Her name is Topaz and she is a Dragonborne. Not besties, but pretty close.

Ooooooo boy, I got a whole playlist my friend and I have been cooking up for this sad little fella. Here's a couple of them that I think describes him best:

-"The Moss" by Cosmo Sheldrake

-"Rom-Com Gone Wrong" by Matt Maltese

-"When She Loved Me" by Sarah McLachlan

-"Home" by Cavetown

-"Valentine" by Laufey

-"Love Like You" by Rebecca Sugar

He's like, dealing with a heavy breakup until "Valentine" when he meets his current partner :)

4. "I do Adore" by Mindy Gledhill

5. Nope! But I actually thought about it when I was first creating his character just to see how he would act with other dynamics.

6. A scientist. More specifically, an ecologist. He loves nature and learning about all there is to know about life and the world. He also likes finding ways to help others, so maybe even a pharmacologist?

8. Writing, researching, reading, gardening, and making little insect and animal models because he is a NERD™ /lh<3

9. He generally takes good care of his physical health. Although, his flaw is "Most people scream when they see a demon. I stop and take notes on its anatomy," soooo. "For science" he says. "It's for the greater good" he says.

10. Well he's trying his best. But sometimes anxiety just surprises you and all of the sudden you're spiraling and things seem much worse than they are and pfffft whaddya meeeeaaaan I'm sorta self projecting? But he is the kind of person who feels bad about asking for help and then sort of holds it all in.

11. Inspirations were taken Link from The Legend of Zelda series (mainly BOTW) and Howl from Howl's Moving Castle for his design. Everything else was based purely on my own self indulgences for a nerdy elf character (and the songs my friend keeps sending my for him).

12. Same response as question 2 :)

13. No not really, but he is fighting against an organization that keeps threatening and trying to burn down the library he works/lives in with the librarian: Amanita (Ama, Anita, or Nita for short). Amanita is the person who raised and took care of Raymond after his family died in a fire. A fire caused by the same organization who's trying to harm them now. This is his main reason for joining a campaign; to get stronger and protect his loved ones.

14. This one flippin poison dragon we fought. Or maybe that's just me because I really didn't want to let them leave alive. I don't think Raymond necessarily hates anyone.

15. That all honestly depends on how the rest this campaign will play out. My friend has told me that they all did die a couple times, and we almost died to the STINKIN DRAGON but that's not important right now. But L O R E wise, he'd probably still do his researcher stuff until he's really old. Then he'll write books and share his stories :)

16. If they were alive, then I could see him having a great relationship with his parents since they were also big nerds like him. His relationship with Amanita is also great, and he really wants to protect her since she has done so much for him.

17. YESSSSSS! He loves sharing his knowledge with others and would do such a great job teaching kids. Ohhhh this is such a good one, yes he would feel bad if he had to leave them.

18. He/Him :>

19. Biromantic Asexual. His love language in giving is Acts of Service, and Quality Time for both giving and receiving.

20. A longbow and rocks. He has a cantrip spell called "Magic Stone" which lets me make a ranged attack by throwing small pebbles or stones. I like to call this spell the "RAYMOND, STONE 'EM" spell because its funnnnyyyy.

21. hmmmmmmmmmm Actually, I'm not sure! I guess maybe "Nothing You Can Take From Me" from The Hunger Games: The Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes.

22. Will generally go for the non-violent option (more of a lover), but if initiatives are rolling, he'll fight.

23. Extremely. He'll show up with a new tire to fix the flat one, and an extra one for any future situations.

24. Undecided

25. Not singing out loud, but he would definitely hum to himself! :)

26. Irises, forget-me-nots, and bluebells

27. Symbolism wise, a deer. 'Just because' wise, a rabbit, a fox, and a kitty cat :3

28. The Nerds™ (found at the end of this post:) ).

29. Cozy stuff, lo-fi, books, plants, leather notebooks, and an overall sort of cottage core mixed with academia aesthetic. (Mood Board made in Canva :>)

30. Accepts this as their new life(yippee!). They have now been adopted. Will try to find a way to bring up their interests in conversations.

Fuck it, OC brain rot won. Get ready for the Secret Ask List

1) Does your OC have a voice claim, if so who?

2) Who's your OCs best friend? How did they become best friends?

3) What song describes your OC?

4) What song describes your OC and their partner/love interest?

5) Do you ship your OC with a Canon character? If so who?

6) If your OC is in a fantasy setting, what profession would they be in the modern day?

7) Vice-Versa! If your OC is in the modern day, what fantasy class would they be? Would they be a different race?

8) What hobbies does your OC have? What do they do to unwind?

9) How does your OC handle their physical health? Do they take care of themselves?

10) How does your OC handle their mental health? Do they take care of themselves?

11) What was your inspiration for your OC?

12) Does your OC interact with other people's OC? If so, who's their best OC friend?

13) Does your OC have a rival? How did it start?

14) Who's a character your OC cannot stand! It's on sight when they see them!

15) Will your OC ever retire? Do you see them making it?

16) How's their relationship with their parents? Are they alive?

17) If your OC has kids, are they a good parent? Do they ever feel guilty if they have to leave them?

18) What are their pronouns? What would they like to be called?

19) What's their sexuality? What's their love language both giving and receiving?

20) If they fight, what's their weapon of choice?

21) What song best describes their relationship with their enemy?

22) Fight or Flight? Are they a lover or a fighter?

23) Is your OC reliable? Can I call them up at two in the morning if I have a flat tire?

24) Can they play any instruments? If so, what do they play?

25) Are they the kind of person who can't resist a good song? Can I catch your OC singing to themselves while they do the dishes?

26) What flower do you associate your OC with?

27) What's their spirit tamagotchi? Or an animal you associate them with?

28) What clique would they be in? (Draw them in the clothes of said group!)

29) Imagine a mood board for your OC! What's on it? (Make it if you want!)

30) My OC and your OC are friends. This isn't a question. I'm not asking. (How do they respond?)

#MY SON #MY BOY #OH HOW I LOVE HIM #HE MEANS EVERYTHING TO ME #YOU HAVE NO IDEA #*vigorously shaking op* THANK YOU FOR THIS #I don't have a favorite child #but if I did #it might be Raymond #yapping #talk tag #my ocs #original character #reblog #starshinedreamerpost

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lvnleah · 22 hours ago

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Would love a AWFC!Teen reader fic where she's Leah's younger sister who has always had to deal with being with Leah's sister, so many expectations on her and people being her friends because of Leah (Leah is still very much an amazing sister, loves her baby sister to bits!)

So when she's around ten ish, she makes the choice to not let anyone know Leah is her sister, goes to games but doesn't sit in the family section and sits with friends who she's never told about her family, maybe even uses her mum's maiden name rather than Williamson etc.

Leah is undoubtedly a bit upset about it because she doesn't want to make her little ones passion dampen just by being her (I hc that Leah would very much see R as her baby because that's what she called her when she was born or something) but her and their family all accept it and do what R wants and needs

Cut to R being brought into the senior time, smashing it in the big leagues and getting along well with all of the senior players who are looking at her like 'she seems familiar and I don't know why...' only to find out she's Leah's little sister when she's injured on the pitch or Leah gets injured and she gets all panicked and doesn't want to leave her side

Cue Beth, Katie, Kim etc. Who have all been there for years like 'Holy shit, you've grown up!!!!' Because they probably would've known her when she was younger since they've known Leah that long

Long winded but hopefully you'll like the idea 😂😂

the other williamson | leah williamson.

thank you for this request! :)

this is one of my favourite fics I’ve written!

You had always been proud to be Leah’s sister, how could you not be? She was England’s captain after all and an Arsenal star but sometimes being nine years younger than Leah came with its struggles.

You were only seven when Leah first broke into the senior team and you were so proud of your sisters that for a while it’s all you talked about. Everyone at school knew about your cool big sister Leah and how she was playing for Arsenal.

At that time, women’s football wasn’t massive so of course you got a bit of stick from a few boys in your class but it wasn’t anything you could handle.

“Arsenal women?” One of them scoffed one day in the playground, “that isn’t a proper team!”

You looked the boy straight in the eye. “They are a proper team! My sister’s going to be the best player in the world, just you watch!”

The boy had rolled his eyes and laughed, but you didn’t care. You’d march off, determined to prove him wrong. Well, Leah would prove him wrong, and you’d be there cheering her on every step of the way.

For a while, being Leah’s sister was the coolest thing in the world. You loved going to games, sitting with your family, wearing a little Arsenal jersey with Williamson on the back.

Leah always made time for you, even when her schedule got busy. She’d let you run around on the pitch after matches, ruffle your hair, and call you “my little bubba,” no matter how much you protested.

But as you got older, things changed.

By the time you were fifteen, Leah was a household name. Women’s football had grown massively, and she was basically the face of it after winning the euros. People started treating you differently, not because of who you were, but because of who your sister was.

At school, kids who’d never spoken to you before suddenly wanted to be your friend. “Can you get me an autograph from Leah?” they’d ask, or, “Do you think she’d come to my party?” Teachers started expecting more from you, too, as if being Leah Williamson’s sister meant you had to be perfect at everything.

At the academy, it was worse. You had been lucky enough to sign for the Arsenal academy when you were twelve but after the euros things changed. Every time you stepped onto the pitch, you could feel the weight of their eyes on you.

Coaches would compare you to Leah, even though you were nothing like her as a player. You didn’t even play in the same position, you were a striker not a defender. Teammates would make comments, sometimes kind, sometimes not.

“She’s only on the team because her sister’s Leah Williamson,” someone whispered once after you scored. “She’s not even good enough for the academy.”

It stung more than you cared to admit.

That was when you made your decision. You didn’t want to be known as Leah’s sister anymore. You wanted to be you. That night after training, you came home and broke down in tears to your mum.

“Bubba, what’s wrong?” Amanda asked you as you stormed into the house, flinging your bag down onto the ground.

You sat down with a huff as more tears started to escape, Jacob gave Amanda a look, “Been like this since I picked her, won’t say what’s wrong though.” Your brother sighed.

“I’m fine,” you muttered, wiping at your face angrily, though the tears kept falling.

Amanda crouched down in front of you, her voice soft. “You’re clearly not fine, Bubba. Come on, tell me what’s going on.”

You glanced up at her, hesitating. Part of you didn’t want to say it. You didn’t want to sound ungrateful for the opportunities you had or for Leah being your sister but the words tumbled out before you could stop them.

“I’m sick of it, Mum,” you said, your voice cracking. “Sick of being just Leah’s sister. Everyone at the academy thinks I’m only there because of Leah. They don’t even see me as my own person, just as ‘Leah’s little sister.’ I can’t do it anymore.”

Amanda’s face softened, and she sat beside you before pulling you into a hug. “Oh, Bubba. I’m so sorry you’re feeling this way.”

Jacob sat down next to you on the couch on the other side, frowning. “That’s not fair. You’re talented in your own right. Anyone who says otherwise is just jealous.”

“But I'm always being compared to Leah, J,” you said, though your voice wavered. “No one believes that I'm good enough. They just think I’m riding on Leah’s name.”

Amanda kissed your temple, “You are good enough. And I understand why this is so hard for you. But what do you want to do about it? How can we help?”

You hesitated, chewing your bottom lip. “I don’t want to be ‘Williamson’ anymore,” you finally said. “I want to use your maiden name, Mum. I want to be a Baker, not Leah’s sister.”

Amanda blinked, taken aback for a moment, but then she nodded slowly. “If that’s what you want, then we’ll support you. Right, Jacob?”

“Of course,” Jacob said, ruffling your hair. “You’re still you, no matter what name’s on the back of your shirt.”

A lump formed in your throat, but you nodded, feeling a small wave of relief.

“What about Leah?” Amanda asked gently. “Have you talked to her about this?”

You froze. You hadn’t thought about how Leah would feel. “I don’t know. I don’t want to hurt her feelings. She’s always been so proud of me, but…”

“But you need to do this for yourself,” Amanda finished for you. “You know she’ll understand.”

You nodded.

Later that evening, when Leah got home from training, you sat down and told her everything. You expected her to be upset or worse, disappointed but instead, she pulled you into a tight hug.

“Bubba,” she murmured, her voice thick with emotion. “I had no idea you were feeling like this. I’m so sorry, I’ve made things harder for you.”

“You didn’t,” you said quickly. “It’s not your fault, Le. I’m so proud of you, but I just need to figure out who I am without being ‘your sister.’”

Leah nodded, her hands on your shoulders. “I get it. And I’m proud of you for standing up for yourself. Whatever name you use, you’ll always be my little Bubba, okay?”

You laughed through your tears, hugging her tightly.

That night, you went to bed feeling lighter than you had in months. You were ready to step out of Leah’s shadow and into your own light.

Fast forward a few years, you were now eighteen and transitioning into the senior team. Leah was now twenty-seven and somehow everyone had managed to keep it a secret that you were Leah’s sister.

Majority of the girls that you played with had either left the academy or completely stopped playing football. Your shirt name was now Baker and had been for two years now, your coaches were different too and everyone just thought that Leah was your family friend.

“Excited for your first senior training, bubba?” Leah asked you one December morning as she drove you both to the training ground.

You shrugged, a mixture of emotions, “Bit nervous…” you muttered, “Excited but nervous.”

Arsenal’s senior team had a new coach, Renee Slegers, and she had been to watch the u18s a few times. For some reason, she had seen something in you and wanted you to come train with the senior team and potentially play a few games.

“You’ve got this, Bubba. You wouldn’t be here if you weren’t good enough. Renee knows what she’s doing, and so do you.” Leah told you.

You nodded, trying to let her words sink in. You knew Leah believed in you, she always had, but the pressure of stepping into the senior team felt overwhelming. It wasn’t just about proving yourself, it was about proving you belonged and you were separate from Leah.

When you arrived at the training ground, Leah walked in beside you, her confidence making her look so at ease. Meanwhile, your stomach churned as the nerves threatened to take over. You adjusted your backpack, trying to focus on your breathing.

“Relax, Bakes,” Leah said with a smirk, using the nickname some of your academy teammates had given you after you changed your last name. “They’re going to love you.”

As you entered the changing room, you were immediately greeted by familiar faces, some you hadn’t seen in years. Beth grinned as soon as she spotted you.

“No way! Little Bubba? Is that you?” Beth’s voice was teasing, her eyes wide in mock disbelief.

You groaned internally. So much for keeping the “Bubba” nickname under wraps. “It’s Baker now,” you corrected with a sheepish smile, but your voice was warm. You couldn’t help but laugh a little as Beth pulled you into a quick hug.

“Leah didn’t tell us you’d grown up so much!” Beth teased. “Last time I saw you, you were, what, fifteen?”

“Beth,” Leah interrupted, shooting her a warning look, though she was clearly trying not to laugh.

More players filtered in, all of them reacting with surprise when they realized who you were. Some of them hadn’t seen you since you were a kid, tagging along to games and family events. For others, it was the first time they’d met you.

“Wait, wait, wait,” Katie said, holding up her hands. “So you’re telling me Leah’s been hiding this one from us? You’re playing with us now?”

You felt your cheeks burn as all eyes turned to you, but Leah stepped in, her tone light and teasing. “She wanted to make it on her own. Didn’t want to ride my coattails.”

“Fair play,” Kim said with an approving nod. “Gotta respect that.”

Leah turned to you, her smile soft. “Alright, Bubba, I mean Baker, time to show them why you’re here.”

You gave her a small, grateful smile before heading out to the pitch. As you jogged onto the field with the team, the nervous energy in your chest began to settle. You reminded yourself why you were there. Not as Leah’s sister, but as you.

And as the session began, you could feel yourself falling into the rhythm of the game you loved, the sound of the ball connecting with your boot grounding you. The team was fast, skilled, and ruthless, but you held your own. A well-timed run, a sharp finish past the keeper and it wasn’t long before you felt like you belonged.

At the end of training, Renee pulled you aside, her expression calm but firm. “You did well today. Keep this up, and we’ll see about getting you some minutes in the next match.”

Your heart soared at her words, but you kept your face neutral, nodding. “Thank you, Coach.”

Leah was waiting for you by the car when you finally made it out of the locker room. She raised an eyebrow, clearly trying to gauge how you were feeling.

“Well?” she asked as you climbed in.

You smiled, the weight on your shoulders feeling just a little lighter. “I think I did okay.”

Leah grinned, her pride shining through. “I told you, Bubba. You’ve got this.”

The night of your debut arrived quicker than you expected. Arsenal was playing a league game at Meadow Park against Crystal Palace, and the squad list had you on the bench. You tried to focus during the pre-match warm-ups, but your nerves were all over the place. Leah, as always, noticed.

“Stop overthinking,” she whispered as the two of you jogged back to the dugout after the warm-up. “Just play your game. If you get on, don’t try to do too much. Be you.”

You nodded, though the butterflies in your stomach didn’t ease. The match started, and you watched intently from the bench, studying the pace of the game and trying to picture where you’d fit in.

By halftime, Arsenal was up 1–0, the goal coming from Leah. Renee made a couple of changes early in the second half, but your name wasn’t called. You were beginning to think your debut would have to wait until another day when, in the 70th minute Renee called you.

“Baker, you’re on,” Renee said, her voice firm but encouraging. “Stay calm, yeah? Leah’s out there with you. We’re doing okay, 3-0, so just stay calm, yeah? Try your hardest.”

You nodded, barely able to believe this was actually happening. Leah was standing by the touchline, waiting for you, her hand resting casually on her hip. When you reached her, she nudged you with her elbow, a small smile tugging at her lips.

“Ready for this, Bubba?”

“Don’t call me that,” you hissed, but you couldn’t help the nervous laugh that escaped.

The referee blew the whistle, and you stepped onto the pitch, replacing Beth up top. Leah gave you a quick pat on the back as you ran to your position. “You’ve got this.”

The first few minutes were a blur. The pace of the game was faster than anything you’d experienced before, but you adjusted, remembering Leah’s advice: play your game.

Then, in the 80th minute, the ball came to you. Leah had intercepted a pass in and played a perfect through ball into your path. You took a touch, your heart pounding as you found yourself one-on-one with the keeper.

You steadied yourself, then slotted the ball into the bottom corner with your left foot. For a moment, everything went silent, and then the roar of the fans hit you all at once.

You’d scored on your debut.

Leah was the first to reach you, lifting you off your feet in a tight hug. “That’s my sister!” she shouted, her voice full of pride.

The rest of the team swarmed you, congratulating you with slaps on the back and ruffling your hair. The chant of your name began to ripple through the crowd, and for the first time in a long time, you felt like you belonged, not as Leah’s sister, but as you.

When the final whistle blew, Arsenal had secured a 5–0 victory. Leah pulled you into another hug as you both walked off the pitch.

“Told you you’d smash it,” she said, her grin wide.

You rolled your eyes, but you couldn’t stop smiling. “Thanks, Le.”

That night, as you sat with Leah in the kitchen at home, replaying the match in your head, she looked at you and said softly, “You’re going to have a great career, Bubba. I’m proud of you, you know that?”

For the first time, you didn’t mind the nickname. “Thanks, Le. Means a lot.”

#lvnleah #leah williamson x reader #awfc x teen reader #woso x reader

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pnutbutter-n-j-elyy · 2 days ago

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When You Call Them Clingy| Hyungline Pt2

Hyungline x Gn! Reader

(sorry this took like forever lmao ive been going through it in life unfortunately💀💀💀 )

Bangchan

The hum of the studio was still present, but now it felt different- less like a comforting embrace and more like static electricity prickling your skin.

The once-warm atmosphere had turned cold, muted, and the silence stretched like a chasm between you and Chan.

He didn’t ask if you needed anything anymore. He didn’t look at you at all.

The first hour after your slip-up had been the worst. You’d sat there, staring at the screen of your phone, scrolling aimlessly to avoid looking at him. But your thoughts betrayed you, circling back to the look on his face when you’d called him clingy- the hurt in his eyes, the faint slump of his shoulders, the way his movements slowed, as though your words had drained the energy out of him.

This is almost unbearable... You thought to yourself. I've never been uncomfortable around Chris before, rather the complete opposite...I don't like this.

You had apologized in your head a dozen times already, running over how you could bring it up without making things worse. But every time you glanced his way, you found yourself frozen, the words dying in your throat.

I was harsh...I'm feel horrible...

Chan wasn’t usually one to sulk, but this was different. He didn’t seem angry-he didn’t snap or lash out.

Although you wished he would have. It may have been better than this thick tension.

But instead of yelling or cursing, he buried himself in his work, shutting you out completely. His usual hums and absentminded muttering as he worked were nowhere to be found. The tapping of keys and the occasional adjustment of a dial were the only sounds that filled the room.

It felt unbearable.

After almost two hours of sitting in silence, the tension was too much. You shifted in your chair, swallowing the lump in your throat as you finally spoke up.

“Chan,” you said softly, your voice hesitant.

He didn’t respond immediately. His fingers paused over the keyboard, but he didn’t turn to look at you.

“Yeah?” he said, his tone neutral- too neutral.

You winced. “I didn’t mean to sound so harsh earlier. I-” You rushed out.

“It’s fine,” he cut you off, his voice tight, clipped.

But it wasn’t fine. You could hear it in the way his words came out too quickly, the way he immediately went back to typing as though he hadn’t just brushed you off.

Serves me right...

You tried again. “It’s not fine. I shouldn’t have said that.”

He let out a breath, finally turning his chair to face you. His expression was guarded, a carefully constructed mask of calm, but his eyes gave him away.

“Look,” he said, his voice soft but firm. “I get it. I was being overbearing. I just…I thought I was helping. I'll ease up from now on."

The words hit you like a punch to the chest. He wasn’t trying to defend himself- he was agreeing with you, accepting blame where there wasn’t any to take.

And you didn't want him to agree.

“You- you were helping,” you said quickly. “I was just… overwhelmed, and I didn’t think before I spoke. I-I don't want you to ease up...I love you the way you are.”

Chan nodded slowly, but the way his jaw tightened told you he wasn’t convinced.

“Sometimes I overdo it,” he said, a small, self-deprecating smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “I don’t know how to…not worry about the people I care about. Or love.”

Your heart sank. He wasn’t just talking about you. He was talking about himself, about how he carried the weight of everyone’s needs on his shoulders, even when it wasn’t his responsibility.

“And I made you feel like you couldn’t breathe,” he added, almost to himself.

“No,” you said quickly, leaning forward. “That’s not what I meant. You’re always so thoughtful, Chan. I just…” You trailed off, struggling to put your feelings into words. "I...uh...damn it..."

He tilted his head, waiting for you to continue, but there was a distance in his gaze now- an invisible barrier you hadn’t seen before.

“I don’t want you to feel like you’re doing something wrong,” you said finally, your voice trembling. “Because you’re not. I was just having a bad day, and I-”

“Don’t worry about it,” he interrupted again, standing abruptly. “It’s getting late. I should wrap this up anyway.”

You blinked, startled by the sudden shift in his tone.

It wasn’t angry, but it was dismissive.

Final.

“Chan-”

“Seriously, it’s fine,” he said, forcing a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “You should get some rest. I’ll finish up here.”

The dismissal stung more than you expected. You stood up, hesitating for a moment, unsure if you should push further or give him space. But the way he had already turned back to his desk made the decision for you.

“Okay,” you said quietly, your voice barely audible.

You grabbed your bag and made your way to the door, glancing back one last time. Chan was hunched over his keyboard, his back to you, the soft glow of the monitor casting shadows across his face.

“Goodnight,” you murmured.

He didn’t respond.

As you headed out he called out.

"Y/N."

You turned towards him, hopeful.

"You don't have to come tomorrow. Ji...sung-ah and...Innie-ah are supposed to be here to work on something with me."

You sighed and bit the inside part of your lip. He was terrible at lying.

Then a small rush of unrighteous anger hit you.

"Thats okay, I had plans anyways." You shot back, leaving. You almost missed the surprised look as he lifted his head from his bag.

The walk home was a blur. The guilt in your chest felt heavier with every step, suffocating you until you could hardly breathe.

But now that guilt stemmed from also saying something to purposefully provoke him.

Why would I even say that? I have no reason to be mad- but he...he has all the reason to be.

You thought about texting him, but what could you say? Nothing you typed out felt like enough. Apologizing once wasn’t going to fix this.

And you were too prideful to admit your pettiness.

It's embarrassing...

When you finally got home, you dropped your bag by the door and sank onto the couch, burying your face in your hands. You replayed all the moments over and over in your head, wishing you could go back and choose different words, wishing you could make him understand how much he meant to you.

But then your anger driven words hit you. You just loved digging yourself deeper graves. So, you pulled out your phone and shot a text.

Deciding that if you were at a standstill with each other, you at least wouldn't lie to him.

——————————————————————————

Minho

The next morning, you woke up feeling a mix of guilt and lingering irritation. Sleep hadn’t come easy, your mind replaying the events from the previous night like a broken record. You had lashed out, hurt him, and now there was this gnawing uncertainty about where things stood.

You debated texting Minho to apologize, but the thought of his cold tone from last night stopped you. The memory of his quick, hollow kiss on your temple was like a dull ache in your chest- a reminder of how much damage had been done.

You sighed as you reached for your phone, jumping when you see a text from Minho.

Minho: Dori didn't even wait for me to finish preparing his breakfast before eating Soonie's. Such a menace.

You stared at the text for a long moment, unsure of what to make of it. It wasn’t unusual for him to send updates about his cats, but this felt like an attempt to return to normalcy without directly addressing what had happened.

Should I respond? Should I apologize? You wanted to, but the thought of putting your emotions into words felt daunting.

Instead, you liked the message, telling yourself you’d figure it out later. But as the day dragged on, and you found yourself unable to focus on anything. By the evening, your phone buzzed, breaking you from your thoughts.

Minho: Did you eat?

The question was simple, almost routine, but it held a strange weight. And you were unsure how to respond.

Was this his way of reaching out, or was he just trying to check a box out of habit?

You hesitated before typing back: You: Yeah. Did you?

His reply came almost immediately: Minho: Mhm. Chan-hyung made japchae. Ate while working. Minho: Also, three cups of pudding.

You couldn't help but let out a little giggle. You could picture him in his studio, his face reflected in a the mirrors, as he sat crisscross on the dance floor, scribbling choreo ideas, spoon in one hand and a cup of pudding beside him. The image tugged at your heartstrings in the way only a lover could do.

You: Busy day? Minho: Always.

You sighed and rested your head on the back of your couch.

Short. Not necessarily clipped, but there were no teasing or playful jabs. No emojis. Just facts. It felt so unlike him, and it hurt more than you wanted to admit.

You could feel the awkwardness as if he was sitting in the room with you.

You: I’m sorry about last night. You typed out a response, then deleted it, then typed it again. Finally, you settled on: You: I miss you.

The three dots signaling his response appeared, then disappeared, then reappeared. You held your breath, waiting.

Minho: Yeah...

You: I'm sorry.

Minho: It's fine.

It wasn’t fine. You knew that. The lack of warmth in his reply was enough to confirm it.

You: It doesn’t feel fine. Minho: Maybe it’s not...

There it was. The crack in the veneer. Your chest tightened as you stared at his words. You wanted to fix it, to make it right, but you didn’t know how.

You: Can we talk? Minho: Not right now. I’m tired.

The conversation ended there. You stared at the screen long after his reply, the words “I’m tired” echoing in your mind. It wasn’t just physical exhaustion he was talking about. He was emotionally drained, and you were the reason.

You: Okay, goodnight. I love you. Minho: Night. I love you too.

Over the next two weeks, things didn't get much better.

You hadn't seen him in person, and only had a few video calls where anytime you tried to bring up an apology, Minho deflected the conversation.

It felt like more of an awkward and intimate friendship interacting rather than a couple. And you needed to change that. You couldn't handle it. You missed your boyfriend.

Minho had always been steady, a constant in your life. You hadn’t realized how much of a lifeline he was until you cut it with a single careless word.

Clingy.

The way his expression had shifted when you said it- it haunted you. Minho, who rarely let his emotions crack the surface, had been hurt. You’d seen it, felt it in the way he pulled back from you. And you wanted to pull him back towards you.

That’s what brought you to his house a few nights later, your chest tight with desperation and dread. You didn’t have a plan, just a need to be near him, to try and fix what you’d broken.

The porch light cast a faint glow as you arrived, the sight of it familiar yet unsettling. You hesitated at the keypad, your fingers trembling as you entered the code. For a moment, you feared he might have changed it, but the lock clicked open with a soft, mechanical hum.

The sound felt louder than it should have in the quiet night, and your heart ached with the thought that you still knew this house so well.

You stepped inside, the warmth of the entryway doing little to ease the chill in your bones.

“Minho?” Dori was the only cat by the door, immediately rushing to you to rub up against your legs. "Min?"

Your voice was soft, tentative, as you slipped off your shoes and into slippers, but it went unanswered.

The faint murmur of voices reached you from the living room. You moved toward the sound, your footsteps hesitant.

And then you saw them.

She was sitting on the couch, her laughter carrying easily in the stillness of the house.

Minho was beside her, close enough that the space between them seemed insignificant. His expression, one that had been so cold and was open-relaxed in a way you hadn’t seen in minute.

Your stomach twisted painfully, the scene before you crashing down like a tidal wave.

You must have made a sound, because Minho’s head turned sharply in your direction. His eyes widened, surprise etched across his face.

“Y/N?”

The girl followed his gaze, her expression a mix of confusion and mild curiosity.

You froze, your pulse hammering in your ears.

“I-” The words caught in your throat, your mind scrambling to come up with an explanation for why you were here, standing uninvited in his doorway.

“Y/N-ah, wait-” He said, scrambling up from the couch, tripping over Dori who had decided to join the party.

But you were already backing away.

“I didn’t mean to interrupt,” you said quickly, your voice cracking as you stumbled toward the door. You knocked into the cats water bowl, soaking your feet. The lump in your throat threatened to choke you, but you forced the words out. “I’ll just- go.”

Minho reached for you, his movements sharp and deliberate. “Don’t-”

You didn’t wait for him to finish, pulling away. The door slammed shut behind you, the cold air biting at your skin as you stepped into the night.

You didn’t realize you were still wearing the house shoes Minho had bought for you months ago until you were halfway down the street, your steps uneven on the pavement. The absurdity of it made your throat tighten, but the tears came before the laughter could.

Your vision blurred as you walked aimlessly, the weight in your chest pressing down until it felt hard to breathe. You could still see her face, hear her laugh. It was seared into your mind.

There is no way he could have moved on in just two weeks...right?

Could he have...no. Never.

But had he?

You didn’t know either way. And you couldn’t bring yourself to stay long enough to find out.

Back at the house, Minho stood frozen by the door. Doongie let out a soft mew, as if speaking.

"I know..." Minho said to the cat.

His jaw clenched as he stared at the space where you’d been, staring at where your shoes were left, your sudden departure leaving a suffocating silence along with them.

“Minho?” the girl called hesitantly, her voice breaking through the tension.

He turned to her, his expression unreadable.

“You should go.” he said finally, his tone flat.

Her brows furrowed in confusion, but she didn’t argue. She gathered her things quickly, giving Doongie a quick scratch, the sound of her footsteps fading as the door closed behind her.

Minho sighed heavily, running a hand through his hair as he leaned against the wall. His gaze fell to the floor, and for the first time, he noticed the trail of damp footprints leading to the door- proof of your hurried escape.

You hadn’t even waited to hear him out.

He wanted to chase after you, to get an explanation for why you’d come in the first place.

But he didn’t move. Instead, he stood there in the silence, the weight of your absence pressing down on him; and he was stuck wondering how something you caused had now become a snowballed issue he needed to resolve.

——————————————————————————

Changbin

You sat there frozen, the echo of his quiet, defeated tone playing on a loop in your mind. It wasn’t like him to leave like that- without a fight, without reassurance, without trying to smooth things over. He had always been one to want to ease conflict in the calmest manner.

Your eyes drifted to the coffee table where his phone sat, screen dark and mocking in the dim light. He must’ve forgotten it in his rush to leave, and the realization sent a pang of guilt straight to your chest. You couldn’t even call him to try and make things right.

With trembling hands, you picked up his phone, turning it over in your palm. It was a small, insignificant thing, but it felt like the only connection you still had to him.

The weight of Hyunjin’s text was heavier now, replaying in your mind like a cruel taunt.

He had planned to propose tonight.

And you had ruined it.

You pressed the phone to your chest, swallowing hard against the lump in your throat. You couldn’t stop picturing the way his face had fallen, the light in his eyes dimming with every word you’d said. The warmth he carried with him, the energy that filled every room he walked into, was gone. And it made you feel terrible.

Your hands tightened around his phone as you leaned back on the couch, your thoughts spiraling. Changbin wasn’t just a boyfriend- he was your safe space, your biggest cheerleader, the person who always knew how to make you laugh when you wanted to cry.

And tonight, you had been the one to make him feel small.

You let out a shaky breath, blinking back the tears threatening to spill over. There was no way you could let things stay like this.

So, you got to work.

Changbin’s car coasted slowly down the street, the low hum of the engine the only sound in the otherwise quiet night. His mind buzzed, replaying every moment of the evening- your harsh words, the hurt in his chest, and the sudden shift in the air between you two. He could still feel the weight of your gaze, and your frustration.

He had tried so hard.

Maybe it is my fault...

He wanted to make the night perfect, make it something to remember. A sweet cute, relaxed proposal. Soft and warm and everything that represented the love he had for you.

But now he was left uncertain, second-guessing everything. The familiar streets blurred as his thoughts swirled, mixing with the disappointment and confusion still lodged in his heart. His grip tightened around the steering wheel.

As he pulled into his driveway, he killed the engine but didn’t immediately move. He sat there for a while, the headlights casting long shadows across the pavement. It was cold, but he didn’t feel it. Instead, his chest was heavy, a knot of frustration and sorrow gnawing at him.

I need to apologize. Maybe then-

Reaching for his phone, he noticed a slight tremor in his hands.

Is that the best thing to do though...what if Y/N-ie is still mad...

He spent the next couple minutes thinking about texting you- even though he hadn’t done anything inherintantly wrong.

But the thought of sending an apology and admitting to a fault he didn’t deserve seemed like the easiest way to get things back to normal.

He swiped the phone screen on, but his stomach dropped when he saw his empty hand. He reached to pat his pockets.

He didn’t have his phone with him.

He trailed his eyes at the empty seat next to him, hoping maybe it was there, as the realization hit him harder than it should’ve.

His phone was still on the couch at your place. He must’ve left it there in the rush to get away.

"Shit," he muttered under his breath, the frustration and anxiety rising again.

He shifted the car back into gear, pulling out of his driveway and heading back to your apartment. As he drove, he let out a deep sigh, trying to shake off the weight pressing on him.

He didn’t know what to expect when he saw you again. He didn’t even know what he wanted from the rest of this night.

Back at your place, you were busy, but not in the way you had planned. You paced the living room, biting your lip as you nervously looked over the decorations you had hastily thrown together. You had wanted everything to be perfect for him, the way he’d promised it would be tonight, but now… you were the one fixing things.

You were the one putting the final touches on a proposal- his proposal.

Your heart flipped over and over in your chest, as you adjusted things anxiously.

You had to scrounge through a ton of different leftover decorations from previous events and holidays; and it looked like the spirit of every celebratory occasion had thrown up over your living room.

You had tried so hard to get it right, to show him how sorry you were that your nerves and selfishness had ruined everything.

When you heard the distant rumble of his car approaching, your heart skipped a beat. You quickly fixed your hair and wiped your hands on your pants, as if trying to make up for everything all at once.

You hadn’t planned this, hadn’t thought through how you were going to apologize. You just knew you couldn’t let him walk away- couldn’t let him leave the night without fixing at least a small part of it.

The doorbell rang, and you froze, your pulse quickening in your throat.

You opened it, and there he was. Changbin. Standing there with an unreadable expression, his eyes flicking over your face before he looked down at the phone in his hand.

You didn't know if you imagined his red rimmed eyes.

“I-” he started, but the words faltered. He opened his mouth again, as if trying to say something, but nothing came out. "I left my phone."

You handed it to him, and he stood there awkwardly turning it in his hands.

"Bin, come in," you whispered, stepping aside to let him in.

He hesitated for a long moment, his feet still on the other side of the threshold, as if he were debating whether to leave or stay. You could see the tension in his shoulders, the uncertainty in his movements.

But then, with a deep sigh, he stepped inside.

You led him to the living room. His eyes stayed on the floor. He didn’t sit down, didn’t speak, just stood there.

"Y/N, I'm sor-"

"You don’t need to apologize," you said, voice barely audible as you walked toward him. You didn’t know how else to start. "I’m the one who messed up tonight. It wasn't you. It was all me."

Changbin shook his head, though it seemed like he was trying to process what he was feeling. He opened his mouth again, his voice hoarse. "No, it wasn't you. I…I didn’t mean for-"

"Changbin, don't fool yourself." You said with a sarcastic chuckle. "You know it was all my fault-"

"Y/N I was the one who was-"

"-I ruined your proposal. Of course it's my fault." You finished.

Your words stopped him. He closed his eyes for a moment, the weight of everything hanging in the air between you.

"So you knew..." he murmured, his voice cracking just slightly.

"Hyunjin texted. I saw it on your screen."

Changbin sighed and then looked around, seeing the decorations.

"What..."

"Since I ruined your proposal I thought I could fix it. As an apology."

The air between you thickened suddenly.

"I-I know it's not the best or the prettiest, but I thought—"

His voice faltered as he looked up at you, eyes filled with something unreadable. Shock, confusion… and then something softer, something heavier.

"What…what did you do?"

You froze. Your heart pounded.

He was staring at everything—the decorations, the candles, the careful details meant for him to present to you.

"I thought… I'd throw something together," you repeated, your voice small. "To fix your proposal."

"Fix it?"

And in that moment, you realized just how wrong that had sounded.

"N-No! I meant fix the night. Not your proposal—nothing was wrong, I just—I ruined the moment, and—"

You were scrambling, desperate to explain.

"Binnie, I—"

"I understand, Y/N."

His quiet chuckle sent a chill through you. It wasn't warm, wasn't teasing. It was sad.

"You made another opportunity," he said, his voice steady but distant. "You set up a proposal."

"Yes! An opportunity, not-" But then you saw it. The rapid blinking, the slight shift in his expression. The way he swallowed hard, as if forcing down words he wouldn't let himself say.

And suddenly, it clicked.

He wasn't upset about your wording. He wasn't even upset that you'd tried to make things right. He was upset because you'd taken this from him. Because he had wanted to be the one to do this for you.

When you had called him clingy earlier, you had let your stressors guide you to insult what you loved most about him.

How he wanted to do everything for you.

His love language towards you always tended to be acts of service.

And while a proposal wasn't necessarily though, it made sense that he wanted to do this for you. One of the biggest acts of your two lives.

He wanted to gift it to you, and you took it away.

For a long, suffocating moment, neither of you spoke.

Then, without another word, he stepped back. His hands curled into fists, then relaxed. He exhaled, gaze flickering between you and the scene you'd set. And then he turned.

You barely processed it as he walked past you, his presence fading with each step toward the door.

"Binnie, wait-"

But he didn't stop. The door opened, and before you could find the right words, the ones that wouldn't make everything worse—

It clicked shut.

——————————————————————————

Hyunjin

The moment Hyunjin you shut the door, you felt a wave of regret crash over you. You stewed in your regret for a while before you succumbed to it.

You couldn't stand it.

You rushed out the door, hoping to catch up; even if it had already a bit since his departure. But you knew him, and he probably hadn't made it far, taking his long legs for granted and dragging out his journey.

You wanted to stop him, to explain, to make him see what you couldn't say- but your pride had already built a wall too high. The words you had snapped at him stung, but there was a fear settling deep within you, too. Fear of rejection, fear of the misunderstanding spiraling out of control.

Fear of losing him from a quick yet grave mistake.

The street was quiet, and your footsteps echoed in the empty space. You turned the corner, but in your rush, you hadn't paid attention to where you were going.

It seemed you had taken one wrong turn after another, and suddenly the comforting glow of the familiar streetlights was replaced with unfamiliar darkness.

Panic rose in your chest. Your phone buzzed in your pocket, and you fumbled to pull it out, only for it to die before you could see.

You cursed under your breath. Of course, it died. Why wouldn't it? Your mind was foggy, and you could barely focus on anything, let alone figure out where you were. The tightness in your chest felt suffocating, but you pushed through it.

You wandered a little until you found a cute little convenience store, stepping inside, letting the warmth encapsulate you. You decided to grab a snack while you charged your phone, the clerk so graciously allowing you to charge it behind the desk.

You figured while you ate you could figure out what to say to Hyunjin, to mend whatever crack you had caused.

Meanwhile, Hyunjin still felt the sting of your words settled deep in his chest. His jaw clenched as he shoved his hands into his pockets, walking briskly down the street.

It wasn’t fair. He had done nothing wrong, yet you had pushed him away like he was too much. Like his affection- his need to be close to you- was suffocating.

Me? Too much- HAH. As if.

You were just being bratty because you were in a bad mood...right?

I'm not actually too much am I?

And maybe it was dramatic, maybe it was childish, but he wanted you to chase after him. To call out his name, to grab his sleeve, to do something to prove you cared as much as he did.

But the street behind him remained quiet.

His throat tightened. His steps slowed.

You weren’t coming.

Hyunjin scoffed, shaking his head. Fine. If you weren’t going to run after him, then you could suffer.

He would make you grovel, make you look at him with those wide, guilty eyes and apologize.

Beg a little. Then - only then - he’d pull you into his arms, stroke your hair, kiss your forehead, and tell you it was okay.

Because at the end of the day, that’s all he wanted.

To make things okay again.

With a sigh, he turned back around, heading toward your apartment, already playing out how he’d drag this out just enough to make you squirm before giving in.

But when he got to your door, his smirk faltered.

The lights were off, but the door was cracked.

His brows knitted together as he stepped into a completely empty home.

You were supposed to be here. You were supposed to be sitting inside, stewing in guilt, waiting for him to come back so you could apologize properly.

His fingers twitched as he opened your bedroom door. He went to the bathroom and knocked.

No answer.

He knocked, a little harder this time.

Still nothing.

A flicker of unease crept up his spine. He pulled out his phone and called. It rang twice before going straight to voicemail.

Hyunjin swallowed. His throat was dry.

His mind raced through every possibility. Maybe you just went out for air. Maybe you ran to the convenience store. Maybe-

But his gut told him otherwise.

His gut told him something was wrong.

His fingers curled around his phone, knuckles white as he sucked in a sharp breath. His frustration, his plan to make you beg, his need to be dramatic- all of it evaporated, replaced by one single, overwhelming thought.

He needed to find you.

Now.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

@abovenyx @wolfs-archive @oddracha @iyeeeverydee @parisanmorovati @seungmincenteric @panbish-1209 @fxiry-vtt @sseawavee @shuporanporang @amarecerasus @softkisshyunjin @whoa-jo @meanergreener @rikibun @ayyonoona @shinywombatcrusade @y4yayael @skzstan12345 @mariteez @allys-reads @jazziwritesthings @skzstannie @yongbokkiesworld @kkkeopi @neverendingstay @moony-9 @minsungsthirdwheel @everlastingspring143 @joyofbebbanburg @leezanetheofficial @tr-mha-fan @bubbly-moon @night-storm7 @missmajdastark @axel-skz @rockstarkkami @emilyywhyy

taglist specific:

@darling-imobsessed @changbinismymuscledaddy @artist2181 @minniesverse @monbrigh @20staaa @aeri-skzver @noannah @skysole @chanssmiles @depressedarlling @

#skz imagines #skz stay #skz x reader #stray kids reactions #stray kids #skz fluff #skz reactions #skz #christopher bang #skz angst #lee minho #seo changbin #hwang hyunjin #skz hyung line #pnutbutternjelyy

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shalfeis · 3 days ago

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a/n: hello hello! I had an idea in my head for a long time, so I decided to write this fanfic. I hope you enjoy it. (I'm sorry for possible mistakes since English isn't my native language, also it can be a little ooc Phainon).

Phainon.

Just that name makes you roll your eyes and make a displeased face. And when your friends and acquaintances start admiring him, you feel like throwing up.

Everyone loved this chrysos heir, but you were disgusted by him. He seemed to you to be too kind, too good for that to be true.

You don't understand why everyone has such high hopes for him. "He is our savior!", "Glory to Kefal, Lord Phainon has arrived! We are saved!", "We have nothing to worry about when Lord Phainon is around" and so on. Ugh.

The white-haired always strives to protect everyone he can. And what follows from this? That's right, he doesn't think about himself at all, as a result of which he gets injured and ends up in the hospital where you work. That's definitely the "savior".

You magically aren't around at times like this. Fortunately, your colleague and healer did not ask unnecessary questions and silently treated Phainon every time.

Sometimes, however, luck turned away from you, and you had to treat him through unwillingness. Either you were in an uncomfortable deathly silence, he was trying to start a conversation, but you showed by your whole appearance that you did not want to communicate with him. Or the treatment was accompanied by harsh and sarcastic comments on your part.

He always looked at you with such an uncomprehending and sincere look that you almost felt bad and ashamed of your behavior. Almost.

You try your best to avoid him and show that you hate him. Yes, you definitely hate Phainon.

Phainon is a man who strives to protect everyone. He sincerely tries to help people and protect them from suffering, which makes people reach out to him. He often hears words of gratitude addressed to him, awe and all that sort of thing, he responds to all this with a polite smile.

So why do you treat him completely differently?

He doesn't understand why you're so cold and harsh with him. Why are you avoiding him? Did he offend you in some way?

The Chrysos heir has tried to talk to you, to find out what he did wrong, countless times, but each time he was met with a harsh refusal. He sometimes even got injured on purpose just to get to your appointment, but in most cases he was met and treated by your colleague.

Phainon tried to ask your colleagues, but all he got in response was something vague. It seems like you're only acting like this with him.

The white-haired does not understand how he could have earned your hatred. He's upset that you don't even want to look at him.

He flatters himself with the hope that one day you will have a heart-to-heart talk, and he will find out what exactly is wrong with you. Maybe if he comes a little more often than usual and behaves a little more stubbornly, will you open your heart to him?

Anyway, just know that he won't let anyone hurt you. The very thought of you being hurt in any way leaves an unpleasant taste on his tongue and makes his stomach twist uncomfortably. He'll be there if you need help.

It's been a while since his last visit to the hospital, and you haven't seen much of him. You have already decided that the gods have taken pity on you and that he will finally no longer appear in your life, but it seems that you were overjoyed too soon.

Soon he began to appear in the hospital twice as often. And even if he wasn't injured, he still came. There is always a lot of work in a place like a hospital, so he extended his helping hand and helped in every possible way. Which meant that you were seeing each other much more than usual.

He became more persistent. Even if he wasn't trying to get you to talk, it was evident in his behavior and actions.

Even if you try to avoid his help when you're carrying something heavy, such as a stack of documents or a box of scrolls or medicines, he silently takes it from you and walks to the destination. No matter how much you said you could carry it yourself and you didn't need help, he just waved it off and continued doing what he was doing with a warm smile.

Now you didn't even have a chance that you could avoid him. He was almost literally everywhere. You're already seething with anger because your colleagues have decided that it would be ideal to talk all your ears about which Phainon is perfect.

But if you hate him so much, why did you stop pushing him away after a while when he gives you a helping hand? Let him carry heavy things if he wants to, it's better for me. You tried to convince yourself of that.

And no, the heartbeat quickened not from embarrassment when he lightly touched your hand with the pads of his fingers or showed such attention and care, but from disgust at how persistent and stubborn he was.

You still refused to talk to him, but you stopped pushing his help away. This small progress made Phainon incredibly happy. Maybe if he keeps it up, you'll open up.

He started giving you little trinkets that reminded him of you. And oh, how happy he was when he saw that you were wearing one of the necklaces he gave you.

His companions noticed his strange behavior and started teasing him about it, but he didn't seem to care. All that mattered to him right now was your trust. And he will do everything to preserve the fragile bond that has begun to form between you.

You really hate Phainon. You're absolutely sure of that. So why did you rush to shield him from the impact with your body? Why did you so desperately want to protect someone you also desperately hated?

Due to the heavy blow and blood loss, your vision started to darken. Your legs stopped holding you upright, causing you to collapse to the ground. Somewhere in the distance, a desperate and pain-filled scream could be heard. For some reason you were sure it was him, Phainon.

Before the darkness swallowed your consciousness, you felt someone gently hugging you to him and desperately begging you not to fall asleep. Maybe it wouldn't hurt to get some rest now.

Phainon's heart almost stopped when he saw you taking the blow that was meant for him. He didn't waste a second dealing with the remaining enemies and quickly ran towards you.

He gently picked you up and tried to bring you to your senses. He asked you so desperately and pitifully to stay conscious. He didn't care how he looked from the outside. You. That was his priority.

Therefore, when he realized that you were about to fall into the impatient hands of Thanatos, he went to your hospital with all his might. He prayed to everyone he could for you to survive. He didn't want to lose those he cared about again.

You wouldn't be in such a deplorable situation if you hadn't gone with some colleagues to help him and other soldiers.

Because of him, you've been in a deep coma for several days now. This fact alone aggravated his emotional state. He felt guilty about what had happened.

Phainon came every day and stayed in the room as long as he could, waiting for you to wake up. The silence in the room was suffocating. He still had so much to tell you, so much to do for you.

Your colleagues had to force him out of your room. They already allowed him to stay there longer than he was supposed to, due to the fact that he was a recognized hero of Okhema.

The other Chrysos Heirs couldn't cheer up Phainon, no matter what efforts they made. Neither Tribios' support, nor Mydei's peculiar encouragement, nothing. They decided to relieve him of most of his work so that he could spend more time with you. All they could do was hope that you would get out of Thanatos' hands after all.

When you finally woke up, it was a big day. Phainon couldn't hold back the storm of feelings that arose, and pressed his lips to yours. It was a long, sensual kiss that expressed all his longing for you and those unspoken feelings. That kiss contained all that immense and tender love for you.

You wanted to pull away, but for some reason your body refused to do it. You accepted defeat and returned the kiss. It seemed like forever before he pulled away from your lips and wrapped you in a warm and strong hug, not so much to hurt, but strong enough to show how bad it was for him without you.

"I thought I'd lost you. Thanks to Kefal, you're awake," there were cracks in his voice. His condition made you feel guilty for putting yourself in mortal danger.

"I'm sorry," you were tempted to say something sarcastic, but you felt that now was not the time for that.

He squeezed you a little tighter in his arms, nuzzling into your neck. Be sure that nothing like this will happen again, he will not allow this incident to happen again.

Yes, you really hate Phainon, just as much as you love him. Although maybe you didn't hate him from the very beginning, you just refused to accept it.

#phainon x you #phainon x reader #phainon hsr #hsr x reader #honkai star rail x reader #honkai star rail #hsr

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primofate · 3 days ago

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Once upon a time there was this fanfiction that I read... [Genshin Spin]

TW: Death, angst, misunderstanding

It was a very, very long time ago, maybe in 2008. I can't even remember what anime it was anymore, but I'm taking those memories and that idea and spinning it into Genshin.

If anybody knows which fanfiction I'm talking about, please let me know as I would LOVE to read it again.

Pick a Genshin Character of your choice.

In the story, you were arranged into a marriage to him for efficiency's sake. As all arranged marriage tropes go, you gradually and actually fall in love with each other.

However, before the wedding happens, you find out that there's something undesirable about him.

For instance, Tartaglia's thirst for battle and his connections with Fatui.

Diluc's guardedness, and how you always felt like you never got the whole of him.

Wriothesley's past. How he has killed people.

Alhaitham's lack of emotion and his logic first approach.

Scaramouche's terrible mouth and lack of respect for anyone at all.

Xiao's unwillingness to open up to you.

Zhongli's experience which far surpasses yours. Sometimes it's like you're not even on the same wavelength.

He gives you a chance to back out of the arrangement. And you, being young and fearful, decide that there is still much of the world for you to see and more people for you to meet. This man can't be the one you'd spend your life with.

So you leave.

Years pass and the more you see of the world the more you realize that no one in this world is perfect at all and, strangely, you find yourself yearning for someone your heart already knows. Your past, arranged lover.

Sure, there were a lot of things wrong with him, but there were also a lot of things wrong with you and when you finally find him, he's even more guarded than before.

He did really take a liking to you back then, so now as he sees you approaching again, you can't blame him for the caution that he shows.

You don't exactly pine for his attention nor his love. But you accepted that you had to start all over again.

You start by getting to know him again, what he's been up to, what he likes to do, what his goals are in exchange for stories of your own. You support him as much as you can, and fondly take care of him as you did before, maybe even more.

Truthfully, to someone looking from the outside, it pretty much looks like you're clinging on to him and in some senses, you are. You took him for granted back then, but you're now willing to repay that mistake with genuine love and care.

Until one day, the enemies you've made come looking for him. You've just been sticking to him real close these days that it's hard to get a hold of you alone, when it's easier to bully you.

So, your enemies feed him lies.

"Duke Wriothesley, correct?"

"Master Diluc, right?"

"Iudex of Fontaine,"

"Former Geo Archon,"

"Balladeer"

and proceeds to tell them a secret that only you would know.

"Y/N? She's disgusted that you killed your own parents."

"She thinks you're pathetic, grovelling over your father's death,"

"Uncaring. Justice always comes first over everything else,"

"You bore her, talking about history the way you do,"

"Pah! Why would she bother with someone rude like you, really?"

and your enemies deal the final blow.

"We've paid her to follow you. Why do you think she's come all the way here looking for you again? You don't really think it was for you? All your secrets? She's sold them to us for a hefty price. Enough to cover her for a lifetime,"

and perhaps it's hard to imagine him believing it on first thought. But this was a man you had already turned away from once and then just happened to reappear into his life randomly again.

So the next time you come looking for him, smile on your face, packed lunch and all... He looks at you with a cold gaze, and accuses you of things you had no idea about.

"Leave. You've made yourself clear,"

"Get lost. You're even more disgusting than I am,"

"I know you're being paid, so cut the crap,"

"You can stop acting now,"

And you... Poor you who really just wanted to gain his favour. Who really just wanted a second chance to love him again, try to ask him what he means but he responds with despise.

"I know why you've been following me. Stop acting like you care and leave,"

Hurt, you leave without further questioning him. Not even a day later, your enemies come knocking at your door. Finally, you're alone.

Finally, they can make a move without worrying about that pesky man of yours.

And finally... they kill you. Just like that, in your own home.

Fortunately, he knows your new address.

Fortunately, he comes looking for you after a few days of mulling over his words. Perhaps he just had to hear your side of the story first. He didn't let you talk last time out of anger, but maybe this time it would be clearer.

Maybe this time it would be different.

Maybe this time...

...

...it would be the end.

Does it fit into a Genshin context?

If this is a trope, what trope is it?

What similar tropes like this have you read and liked? Would love to read them :D

Kinda reminds me of a MAFIA thing and I feel like it fits more into that but for the life of me I CANNOT find the fanfiction anymore. It used to be on fanfiction.net

#genshin angst #genshin impact

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akanemnon · 2 days ago

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Sorry for the late ask but I have an unpopular opinion that I actually don’t know if people would agree with me on or not.

Years before I deleted TikTok, I used to be obsessed with these mildly edgy videos titled “Villains who weren’t evil, just broken 😢” With songs like “You’re Somebody Else” by Flora Cash or smth, and I feel like Lesslo would definitely fit under that category.

I hope I’m not misremembering anything as the Fun Gang escaped the labyrinth quite a while ago and I know that he’s probably gone for good from the script but considering he’s Asgore’s wedding ring, and I don’t think he turned into a bitch until the divorce (I know he also had history with the Priestess and Knight so I assume maybe that could’ve also contributed to him becoming an antagonist??? Forgive me for having a horrible memory…)

Nevertheless, my unpopular opinion is:

THE BITCH ISN’T ACTUALLY A BITCH, HE’S JUST BROKEN. 😢

I mean, as much as of an asshole he is in Twin Runes, I don't think he's completely irredeemable. He just needs to be knocked down a peg. Because right now he incapsulates that mindset of "If I can't be happy, then no one can!"

In all honestly, Lesslo is a victim of circumstance. Nobody is really at fault. Divorce happens. But as a wedding ring (the symbol of love and marriage) he was caught in the middle and grew bitter.

But I don't think that's gonna be something that will be explored in Twin Runes. Maybe in another story? I dunno. Sometimes, not everyone gets that sort of closure. That's just how life works.

#ask #twin runes #queued post #ask akane #lesslo

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laswells-ashtray · 22 hours ago

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Soo uhm... autistic ghost if you do that? I mean that man is autism creature. And I love him. And need him being a silly little autistic guy. Like headcannons, and how it'd be in his relationships with people. Like romantic sexual or platonic? Please and thank you.

Ghost doesn't think he shows many symptoms of having autism because he's commonly told "I'd never have guessed", however, that's typically because the people telling him that haven't spent enough time with him to pick up on anything.

Eventually, the people he's closest to notice things but they never bring it up. Notable but not worth making him self-conscious about. That's what John calls it.

Simon doesn't like the texture of some of his clothes, he'll brush up against John and then automatically reach away to wipe his hand on his own t-shirt or his cargos. John stops wearing certain shirts around him, and sticks to the softer, worn fabrics that Simon doesn't mind touching when it's reasonable for him to do so.

He notices that his lieutenant stocks up on certain foods that he likes, always the same ones before they spontaneously switch up after almost a year and he doesn't tend to go back to them. He tries to keep whatever snack or drink it is in his office so that on the days that Simon wants to crawl out of his skin, he can offer the other man something and maybe somewhere quiet to sit in away from everyone else.

Gaz thinks for a while that maybe Ghost just doesn't like him, but that's alright, they're coworkers and they don't have to be friends. He doesn't seem to like Soap either. That's until he picks up on something, Soap and he can get loud after missions. The adrenaline is still pulsing through their system and they joke around, getting rowdy like two lads in the back of a classroom. Ghost tends to stay quiet, only speaking if spoken to and even then it's a faint mutter. He gets twitchy the louder Gaz and Soap get, his breathing becomes consciously slow and his eyes narrow until he's glaring daggers into whatever is opposite him.

Then it clicks, the man is overstimulated. Overstimulated and unwilling to say so despite his own blatant discomfort. And all it takes is keeping quiet after missions, the conversations between him and Soap become soft whispers and the stabbing tension in Ghost's shoulders lessens noticeably. It's after that, that Ghost starts talking to him more, friendlier and willing to joke around. Gaz knows they aren't exactly the closest of friends, Simon Riley is a puzzle he doesn't have the decades of solving like Price does but it's something and that's good enough.

John and Nikolai have to adapt certain aspects of their relationship when it opens up to include Simon, something that both of them are more than willing to do to ensure the comfort of everyone involved.

Simon is open to touch in varying ways. If he's the one to initiate contact then he could end up sandwiched between the captain and the pilot without complaint. He'll grumble and bat at them half-heartedly, all for show but all it takes is Nikolai kissing his cheek and John nuzzling his jaw to shut him up.

Some days a simple hand on his shoulder is too much, Simon will tense up and he won't say a word about it but they can hear how his breath hitches. Those days they won't touch him, if they sit down together on the couch tne he'll sit down on the tattered, ancient swivel chair by the window. Sometimes he'll brave sticking his legs out and poking John's thighs with his toes, other times he won't. It's up to him and they see no reason to push.

It can be a mix other days, a kiss on the cheek might be fine but when Nikolai plasters himself over Simon's back it's just too much at once. He'll retreat tactically and brush a thumb over his cheek instead.

Sex is different than they're used to but it's a welcome change. There's no more lying around and falling asleep disgusting, leaving it a mess to be dealt with the next day. They become adept at clean-up, and Simon prefers to shower after they're done. Sometimes he'll drag one of them in alongside him, other days he needs the moment alone. Make no mistake, Simon is usually the filthiest out of the three of them. he does things with this tongue that have left John's ears ringing and he can haul Nikolai around without thinking twice. But he needs time to decompress and he'll take it as a moment in the shower or a post-shower cigarette.

#sorry you never specified what kinda ship and i fell face first on nikpriceghost #simon ghost riley #simon riley #captain john price #john price #cod nikolai #nikprice #nikpriceghost #ghostnikprice #ghostprice #priceghost #ghostnik #nikghost #kyle gaz garrick #john soap mactavish

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curiouspupsicle · 2 days ago

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Good Omens Fan Fiction Friday (1/31/25) - Resistance!!

Being a well informed American living under an administration determined to dismantle our democracy (already stressed) and cause as much damage as possible has even my comfort moments turning to resistance. After all, evil people have always existed. And good people have always resisted. So is there anything my Good Omens fixation has to say about resistance? Given Terry Pratchett's moral universe, we could argue that all of Good Omens is steeped in resistance. But I'm going to limit myself to a few specific favorite fics that highlight different forms of resistance.

Let's start with the series that got me thinking in this direction: Demon and Angel Professors (G) by Ghostinthehouse (@ineffableghost). This is 200 ficlets, each exactly 666 words, hanging on a silly premise. Everyone loves literature Professor Fell who goes on regular tangents about his sweet husband Anthony. Everyone fears grumpy botany Professor Crowley who treats his students like he treats his plants. And anytime Crowley goes near Fell, the first-year students go into protective mode. Because surely Crowley must be up to no good and a potential harm to dear Prof Fell and his precious Anthony. But beyond that bit of fun repeated every year with a new group of incoming students are amazing stories of resistance against those who would cause mental harm or physical violence to disabled people, folks with a variety of gender identities and presentations, queer individuals, people dealing with trauma--basically anyone who might be vulnerable in a thoughtless and even wicked society.

Sometimes resistance is persuading someone to do better. Other times it's offering a hint that makes someone think. It may involve a hands-on approach to someone who only knows violence. Or it may be getting someone to a safe place as quickly as possible.

I read it over a weekend. But I think there's a better approach to reading this long series--bookmark it in your phone when you are doing a hurry-up-and-wait activity (jury duty, medical treatments, picking up kids at school, etc.). The short length of each fic makes it easy to pick up and put down. The variety of "ducklings" tales (what the ineffable pair call the students they help) will keep you interested. And the sense of joy and hope will make it a good way to spend time on a challenging day. Resistance fics aren't all human AUs. Check out The Last Angel (E) by @bellisima-writes. For millennia, Crowley has been Hell's Grand Inquisitor. He never served on earth. After Hell won their war against Heaven, they finally track down the last remaining Angel, Aziraphale. Crowley's given the job of torturing him for information. I don't want to give too much away. But Crowley's form of resistance involves being true to himself no matter what Hell demands. And Aziraphale has a more direct form of resistance planned. It's an exciting read as well as thought-provoking.

@snae-b writes the kind of fics you don't want to start reading before bed--at least not if you plan on getting up early the next day. Echo (E) is no exception. Each day, barista Aziraphale wakes up and goes into work. He serves a chauffeur, Crowley, who seems strangely familiar. Asking questions like "what makes one human" and "how do you fight against an evil activity that no one knows about," Echo is also just a plain old compelling story. And a resistance tale that, despite its futuristic setting, would not feel out of place beside a tale of the French underground resisting Nazis.

Mutual Aid (T) by malicegeres predates the Good Omens tv show. So presumably that makes it part of the Book!Omens universe. In it, radical bookseller Ezra Fell ends up hiding anarchist Crowley from the police after he's injured by skinheads. As the title indicates, they find a common cause and start working together. Loved the depiction of Adam as a leader. And the fic includes a listing of leftist political resources at the end.

Many consider The False and the Fair (E) by @princip1914 to be one of the best human AUs in the Good Omens universe. I certainly do. Aziraphale Wright's family runs a coal mine. Anthony Crowley, his former best friend, is the son of a mine worker. I don't want to spoil the story if you haven't read it. But what appears to be a story of regrets and making amends has a strong thread of accountability that results in wrongs being made right after a powerful act of resistance (with some help from the press). If you haven't read it, check it out. And if you have, read it again--with an eye towards resistance.

Finally, I'll end with a WIP, Good Works (E) by @majnoonathelibrarian. Set in 1987, Aziraphale is an assistant parliamentary secretary in the Thatcher government who finds something strange in the documents he's handling. Crowley is a mysterious "fixer" for a consulting firm who finds himself drawn into queer activism. Both of them have to navigate their day jobs along with increasing activism in a couple of different streams. The characterization is fascinating and the writer strings out the mysteries through the tale. This WIP is regularly updated and nearly complete. Remember, the fan fic community is a COMMUNITY. So don't forget to encourage writers of works underway by leaving kudos and comments. Writers are a gift to fans and we need to show them our appreciation. Finally, I'll give my pitch as someone who has been around much longer than most of you reading this. The yucky things happening in the world can be overwhelming. But it's a backlash. Because we've already made so much progress (both The False and the Fair and Good Works are good reminders of just how deadly the 1980s were for queer people). So resist. By making art and telling stories. By protesting. By contacting the people in power making decisions you disagree with. By caring for the vulnerable. By speaking out at local political meetings. By amplifying the voices of marginalized people. By using any of your unearned benefits to advocate for others. And by just existing as the beautiful and unique individual you are.

#good omens #crowley #aziraphale #good omens fanfiction #go fan fic recs #fan fiction #go fan fiction recommendations #go fan fic rec #go fan fiction #resistance #let your fun reading inspire your resistance

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strawberryflavoredvenum · 2 days ago

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Creepypasta insecurities

Toby

🩷his tics(duh)

He isn't as bothered by it as he used to be but every once in a while, he'll get a particularly noticeable one and others will look at him. He hates when people he isn't close with brings them up.

🩷 Sometimes he worries that he is being annoying. Sometimes he actually is being annoying. He is a lot more talkative now that he's been a proxy for a while. He isn't used to socializing so he doesn't always understands social cues. He has the tendency to overshare or interrupt people.

🩷His muzzle leaves a red mark on the bridge of his nose and he hates it. Luckily other proxies don't see him without it for very long. Just to eat or around bed time.

Jeff

🩷He is not the most hygienic person and he hopes it's not noticeable. He wears axe but that makes it so much worse. One time someone left old spice at his door anonymously. It made him feel really bad but he did use it.

🩷Jeff doesn't feel much shame. Mostly because he chooses to block out any memory of his past. Liu is a constant reminder of what happened and though he does love his brother, it's hard to be around him sometimes.

🩷When Sally first met him she cried. He laughed at the time but he still thinks about it and feels bad. It made him feel bad, especially when Sally wasn't scared of most of the other killers.

🩷He has big hands and long fingers. Sometimes they feel out of place and he doesn't know where to put them. He did trex arms as a kid but it was corrected by his parents. Now he just puts them in his hoodie pockets.

🩷His arms are much too long for his body. It's useful when killing people but they get in the way sometimes.

🩷He is also much much bigger than the other proxies. That combined with his clown aesthetic makes him stand out a lot. He feels out of place.

🩷 Sometimes his eyes drip onto things or people. Other proxies do not take kindly to it and reactions have ranged from annoyance to aggression. He keeps his personal space.

🩷Jack isn't shy but he is a reserved guy. He doesn't get too personal with most of the proxies. It's not that he doesn't want to talk more, but he doesn't know what to say. By the time he comes up with a response to one topic, the conversation has moved on already.

Nina

🩷 The whole 'jeff obsession' is so embarrassing to her now. She moves on from one obsession to the next pretty quickly. Now that she thinks about it, Jeff isn't even that cool. She likes to pretend that it never happened.

🩷She has an unstable sense of identity. Switching from one aesthetic to the next, much like her obsessions. It seemed to come so easily to everyone else.

Ben

🩷Others do not take him seriously. It's not something that Ben just feels, it's the truth. Despite how much he contributes to the team, he isn't given the same respect. He doesn't want to just be comic relief. (he makes sure none of them end up on the internet/news. He helps wipe their images and records so they aren't found. He can also spy through screens and get valuable info.)

🩷He is much older than Sally, yet they are constantly made to hang out. He gets that Sally needs supervision but he doesn't get why he has to be the all-day babysitter. It's not that he doesn't like Sally, but he rather have peers his own age. (I hc him as an older kid. Like 12-13 or something. I'm not that into Ben drowned so maybe this isn't accurate.)

Helen

🩷 He has a small and lanky build. Not particularly tall either. He is one of the weaker creepypastas and it bothers him sometimes. It also makes him feel less safe being around everyone else.

#creepypasta #ticci toby #creepypasta fandom #eyeless jack #toby rogers #laughing jack #jeffrey woods #jeff the killer #ben drowned #nina the killer #nina hopkins #helen otis #bloody painter #hcs #headcanon

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niko-aspin · 3 days ago

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https://www.tumblr.com/taethesun/773120150918610944/its-not-canon-if-you-wondering-its-just?source=share

talking about this niko, how do you think Sun could have died?

like, i think for collen (tae talk about that sometime if i remember)

or his about sun dead in yandere tales? (the au of lovetales-)

although I also like to imagine that sun in most timelines ends up dying at a young age due to the implications of tae (evil tae) and justin is kinda obssesed of seeing his brother's death over and over and just want to save him bc he want what sun live a normal infance and cory supports justin bc he don't wanna see justin metal break down and ofc want's his little brother alive

i love the bond what they have so much to be honest

(omg, maybe a lil platonic!yandere justin + cory?)

• I don't know, I just had a thought like

• omg red and blue asking about their future, I wanna make it with eclipse trio!

• ah, alright, evil Tae will not let me show alive adult Sun/j

• but that would be really cute to see same trio but their most young bro is grow up.

• but, by other side, also interesting to do not make happy end,

• how they will live with it? they will still try to found common language with people what can die? and etc.

• let them hug eachother in lovetales, bruhhh!!

#niko_aspin oc #friend #cory

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themoodyestj · 3 days ago

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i doubt you actually know what it is like to live with a narcissist. i was in a relationship like that for a long time, he made me feel like i was nothing. i was fully convinced that i was completely useless and couldn't do anything right. i wasn't allowed to go out with my friends. i wasn't allowed to work, i had to depend on him. i wasn't allowed to have any hobbies. i was always the one who needed improvement, everything wrong was always my fault. everything always had to be spotless or else there would be dire consequences, i was so scared of him it made me sick. but in public he treated me different, he was the nicest sweetest guy, no one would have ever suspected. i honestly don't think this is Jensen's case, just look at him, he's a confident successful man with tons of friends, he gets to do what he loves for a living, he can have his music and go play golf whenever he wants, he's not afraid to be by himself for long periods of time, he's not afraid to call his wife and say "ups i messed up" and he always wants to come back to her. he's not scared.

Wow, we have an abuse gatekeeper here! Hi delulu! So glad to see you! Should I expect rain tonight?

I’m sorry you went through that, truly. And I'm not going to tell you where I have my experience from, I'm not an idiot. But your personal trauma doesn’t make you the human lie detector for abuse. You don’t get to point at a dude playing golf and go, “See? Not abused!” like that’s how this works. You think having friends, hobbies, or saying “oops, I messed up” means someone can’t be mistreated? That’s dumb as fuck.

Especially since, in this case, she needs his hobbies, his friends, his connections for him to WORK TO MAKE MONEY so she can get the lifestyle she wants!

Abuse doesn’t always look like black eyes and isolation. Sometimes it looks like constant belittling, having your achievements dismissed, your needs ignored, and walking on eggshells so much you don’t even realize it anymore. But hey, since you’re so sure, let’s flip this: if Jensen were a woman and zee kween a man, and he was being publicly humiliated, manipulated, and used as a TikTok aesthetic for “if men are easy to manipulate, they deserve it,” would you still be acting like this? Or would you be posting a whole damn essay about how “this is why women aren't protected”?

You don’t actually care about what’s happening. You just don’t want it to be real. Because if you did, you’d sit with those red flags instead of swatting them away like a toddler refusing to eat their vegetables.

And now, allow me to flip that pointing finger at you. If you were really a victim of narcissism, you wouldn’t be out here dismissing someone else’s experience. You know why? Because you’d know firsthand how painful it is, how isolating, how damn near impossible it is to reach out for help. Real survivors don’t gatekeep abuse, and they sure as hell don’t harass people for seeing red flags.

On a last note, I really hope you heal, but also learn to shut up and let others heal. Because the disgrace you just wrote, the lines you memorized from that old crumpled misogynistic evangelist pamphlet, basically forcing the idea that abuse victims have to fit a certain mold, is nothing you should be saying out loud, let alone to someone who may be potentially experiencing abuse.

It's a disservice to the people trying to survive/escape abuse. As if gaslighting and years of grooming weren't already a major issue for them.

YOU ARE PART OF THE REASON THERE STILL IS A PROBLEM.

#anti aas #anti danneel #anti danneel ackles #anti elta #jensen supportive #abuse isnt a cliche #narcissistic abuse #male victims of abuse

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cecilysass · 16 hours ago

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When I Think About You, I Touchstone Myself: Fic Recs for the Biogenesis/ Sixth Extinction/ Amor Fati trilogy

I thought it was time to do some fic fixes for these important episodes for a few reasons.

First, Amor Fati is an episode I can’t ever stay away from; I both love it and have big issues with it. I love the tribute to Last Temptation of Christ, a film I admire, but I also find the identification of Mulder as a Christ figure to be problematic, or at least to raise questions the show doesn’t really address. I love the touchstone speech and the boy on the beach sequence; I find a lot of the real-life dialogue (e.g. between CSM and Diana) to be clunky.

And honestly, I find it kind of irritating that Diana's death happened off screen, too. Deep Throat, Spender, X, CSM, Well-Manicured Man, Blevins — their deaths were all dramatized onscreen, so it seems weird that Diana’s was not, doesn’t it? Anticlimactic and odd. To me, it's the straw that broke the camel's back for the Diana arc, really raising the question of whether she was ever really written intending to be an important character to the mytharc plot at all ... or whether she just really was a cardboard cutout character there to generate jealousy.

But I digress. What I mean to to say is: I always want to talk more about Amor Fati.

Second, I particularly enjoy me some psychic Mulder fic, and there are some great examples below. How well does he read minds? Does he read Scully’s? Her every thought? How long does it last? Readers want to know.

Finally, if you believe season 7 was the season of secret sex, or even if you just hold to season 7 as the “sometime consummated” season, these 3 eps have to be a crucial turning point. Some people maintain that Mulder got the affirmation to move ahead with MSR when he heard Scully's thoughts. Possibly. Either way, though, by the end, through the events of Amor Fati, they both validate the other’s point of view in a way we don't really see before. Plus, you know, maybe you heard? They’re one another’s touchstones. So this is a crucial MSR trilogy, too.

So I have a (NO DOUBT INCOMPETE) selection of fic recs below. I’m mixing up the fic recs for all three episodes, but I try to note if a fic is really more about one ep than another.

Fic Recs:

Before the White Noise - Nimz12peekaboo Scully goes to see Mulder inside his padded cell in Biogenesis. This is sweet and canon-attentive, if not quite compliant.

A Less Certain World - Sarah Segretti This is really only post-Biogenesis and goes AU after that; it’s the author’s AU Sixth Extinction, I suppose. Mulder is much more affected by the trauma to his brain and body than in the show, and Scully is scared for him. Amazing fic.

Temporary Shelter - Gwendolyn Also a Biogenesis post-ep, this fic imagines that Scully springs psychic Mulder from the hospital and then takes him back with her to the Ivory Coast. They stay in a cabin (with only one bed!) that was once occupied by another couple affected by the artifact. This is rich in plot (and in MSR.)

Stunned - Vickie Moseley This is, by description, what happens in the commercial breaks in Biogenesis. And let's just say that it’s kind of a lot. This fic focuses on Scully coming to calm Mulder down at the hospital, on their trust between one another. There is a little Diana wrap up, too.

All the Places - Ambress A lovely, lovely take on Mulder’s ability to read minds. I cannot recommend this highly enough.

Out of Our Minds - Sarah Segretti and haphazard method This is specifically post-Biogenesis, written before season 7 began. It focuses on the rather realistic idea that Scully would be freaked the fuck out by Mulder being able to read her mind—like, existentially freaked out. Both characters’ POV here; both characters have your sympathy; angsty and extremely true to character.

Disonance - suilven This piece is kind of a classic in my own little personal world. It just such a satisfying concept. It delightfully doesn’t take the canon implications of Mulder’s telepathy seriously, like, at all, which is why we love fanfic. Mulder, Scully, and Diana get stuck on an elevator just as Mulder’s starting to realize he can read minds. Delicious set-up.

the things they say in the dark - MonikaFileFan Missing scenes for Amor Fati, this piece helps us see the two moving closer and closer together while still having the invisible line between them. There is hurt/comfort here with Scully caring for Mulder, and a little light mind reading. So sweet and well done.

how to tell your lover you’ve seen all their secret gardens - 0666666 While Scully is taking care of Mulder after the events of Amor Fati, he tries to think of how to tell her he heard her thoughts. Very good.

Woven Deep by Maureen B. Ocks This is a really smart little Amor Fati post-ep with sharp dialogue / banter throughout. Mulder is in recovery, and they have a chance to talk about his experiences. It’s Mulder POV, but Scully is written very well here.

up and down the east coast by skuls When he’s still supposed to be recovering from Amor Fati events, Mulder asks Scully to go on a road trip to look for Sasquatch. She agrees. This one isn’t about psychic Mulder so much as the little guarded steps the two take towards acknowledging their feelings. Extremely sweet.

Synesthesia by haphazard method On a case shortly after the events of Amor Fati, Scully is still coming to terms with the role she plays in their partnership. An excellent conversation.

Petrichor by Aloysia Virgata. A lovely gem, a fandom classic. A one-chapter case file set directly after Amor Fati. Mulder and Scully’s relationship is offkilter and unsettled; Mulder is troubled by dreams with messages from a familiar ghost; the plot riffs on Anglo-Irish folklore. The spot-on banter and exquisite writing one expects from this author.

Eli Eli by Marguerite Mulder is recovering physically post-Amor Fati while Scully tries to cope with the crisis of faith her experiences in the Ivory Coast provoked in her. Skinner sends them to a beach house in Galveston to rest and heal.

Silence Waiting by JET Scully is struggling to cope with the implications of what she saw in Africa as Mulder heals and worries about her. This is intercut with the story of another telepath, Gretta, who grows up only reading the thoughts of one boy in her town, Frederick. This fic is lovely in every way and makes me weep.

The Boy on the Beach - me me (cecilysass) Yeah, I include my own fic. I just know it best, you know, lol? I include this one specifically for this theme because it was really written in part to engage with Amor Fati, specifically with the implications of Mulder’s Last Temptation of Christ-inspired dream sequence. But I'm the author, so you know, grain of salt.

Let me know what I missed!

#xfiles fanfic #x files fanfic #x-files biogenesis #the sixth extinction #the sixth extinction II: amor fati #amor fati #fic recs #rec list #touchstone

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scoobydoodean · 2 days ago

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Okay real talk. Do you think Dean fears femininity or fears being exploited* and used for things associated with femininity: caretaking, softness, nurturing, etc. Again, it seems there is a subset of fandom that is very literal when seeing posturing and taking the least charitable, kink-shaming position imaginable.

No I do not think Dean fears being associated with these things. As someone who more or less identifies as a genderless blob (except when I don't) and has spent their entire life being deeply confused by "traditional gender roles" and what the actual fuck people mean when they refer to the "maculine" vs "feminine" along some kind of spectrum, I have a lot of trouble articulating my thoughts around this subject. That's also why I don't usually engage with it. But I think it's clear that a lot of people throughout Dean's life try to minimize his feelings and experiences by questioning (through the "traditional" lens of these things) his masculinity and/or associating him with the feminine. Dean has been on the receiving end of challenges to his masculinity and association with the feminine intended to criticize him far more times than he's pushed those narratives on others, though we know he isn't a stranger to the handle side of the knife. I think people sometimes look at the way Dean is mocked and assume that they're supposed to believe Dean feels humiliated by being associated with softness, nurturing, caretaking, etc. But I think it's difficult to argue that he is humiliated as much as he's frustrated, because he doesn't stop nurturing and caretaking and being soft despite it all.

What these moments do serve to illustrate is Dean being expected to play the role of an eternal happy-go-lucky playboy who can't be tied down in one breath then a nurturer who never thinks a horrible thought and always has energy to care for others the next. He's ridiculed for being rough edged then he's ridiculed for being too soft. These chameleon-esque expectations are designed in such a way that it is impossible for him to please anyone. When he is one thing, he is not the other, therefore he fails. When he is a brother, he isn't being a parent. When he's being a father, he isn't being a mother (again in the "traditional" lens) and vice versa. When he's angry, he isn't being loving and forgiving enough. When he's sad or depressed or lost, he's being a nancy. I think the impossible expectation—to be both "feminine" and "masculine" simultaneously in the traditional sense—is something a lot of people will find relatable. Especially if you grew up with one or both parents imposing traditional gender roles on you, then criticizing you for your nonconformity AND your conformity to those roles in turns.

The thing is that tender IS Dean's default, and I don't think he's ashamed of that as much as people sometimes try to make him ashamed, or he withdraws because he realizes he is being harmed through that tenderness and then he is ridiculed for not being tender enough (often by the very person whose actions caused him to withdraw). Dean is a killer with blood under his nails but also that's not who he is. He's a nurturer who helps children deal with their bullies and tends to cuts on his brother's hand and wants a home. He's a weapon but he loves hugs and tells his mother it's okay and he'll never leave her and tells his dad it's okay when he comes home a wreck (2.01, 5.16). He's the sword of heaven, but he also cooks for his family and wraps blankets around their shoulders when they're sick. I literally have a whole tag dedicated to how incredibly tender Dean can be, and I think it's a huge stretch to suggest that he's embarrassed in every one of the hundreds of scenes where that tenderness shines, or that he in some way rejects that tenderness. Angels have fallen from heaven in response to his capacity to Care. Kings of Hell have softened their cruelty. Gods have turned from the path of destruction. Countless people have been driven from possession by his voice reaching out to them calling them home to him (tag). Dean is the narrative heart of the story and the hearth of the house. Tender is his default, and he contains multitudes.

#mail #the hearth of the house #dean the narrative heart

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felassan · 1 day ago

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Some more DA:TV and related snippets from Sylvia Feketekuty, Part 5. rest of post under a cut due to length and spoilers. [Post One, Post Two, Post Three, Post Four]

Sylvia Feketekuty: "I agree, the Necropolis IS gorgeous, I was blessed with wonderful level artists, lighting artists, and a fantastic LD who poured their hearts into making it it." [source]

Sylvia: ""But what does Manfred think about Spite?" Good question. Manfred is curious, as always, and can probably sense Spite's on his own plane of existence (in other words, another spirit.) But Manfred also doesn't have a greatly evolved sense of danger, he might not understand Spite's "moodier" moments. I also think Manfred isn't as sophisticated a spirit as Spite at the start of the game. (Though don't let Emmrich catch you saying that!)" [source, two]

Sylvia on Emmrich: "He was a team effort, and I have to especially thank the writers and editors for their early feedback that helped shape him. Emmrich wouldn't have worked as well otherwise." [source]

Sylvia: "it's a huge honour to work on a character who's someone's favorite anything, let alone romance. (Huge props to Allegra, her actor, who just got Josie right away.)" [source]

Sylvia: ""With Cassandra being our only POV into Nevarra" Poor Cassandra. (Emmrich has such respect for her uncle's books!) "There's a lot of deep respect and empathy for all the ways people relate with death and I appreciate it"" Thanks, that was something I'd so hoped would come through." [source]

Sylvia: "It really was a team that brought Emmrich, the Necropolis, and the rest of its guardians to life, I know everyone would be thrilled to know you enjoyed it so much." [source]

User: "Emmrich's fear of mortality really hit hard. Some of those lines are etched into my heart now. Thanks to everyone who helped put that deeply relatable and human experience into the game" // Sylvia: "It was kind of the core of Emmrich, writing the part where he opens up about his fears, so thank you for sharing that, it means a lot." [source]

Sylvia: "I loved writing the MW branches and letting people be a nerdier flavour of Rook with Emmrich." [source]

User: "Nevarra, Mourn Watch and in particular Emmrich's personal missions were amazing! The whimsical and the grotesque in perfect balance. When I replay next year I'll be looking forward to those missions the most!" // Sylvia: "Especial praise goes to the level designers for tackling a bunch of complex stuff in those missions as we planned them out." [source]

Sylvia: "I think we can all agree Emmrich might be a touch eccentric, but I really wanted his interests and compassionate outlook to be heartfelt, so this is lovely to hear." [source]

User: "I was so nervous about the whole Necropolis gang as I have PTSD and a major fear of death. So when Emmrich confided in Rook about his own fear, I was struck with such an unexpected comfort. I've never heard someone describe my own fears and how they make me feel so perfectly." // Sylvia: "Thank you, Bibi. It's a very familiar fear for me as well, and I find sometimes talking about it can ease things. So I'm very glad to hear Emmrich's thoughts on it were helpful for you." [source]

Sylvia: "I like a good sinister necromancer, but really wanted to try something different with the Mourn Watch, something more akin to a sacred duty." [source]

Sylvia on the Necropolis: "The concept, lighting, and level artists, and the level designer, did so much cool stuff there IMO. Seeing it with the final art and lighting in for the first time was a thrill for me too." [source]

User: "special thanks for the Terry Pratchett references in the form and speech of Vorgoth. I don't know exactly whose idea it was, but it was great!" // Sylvia: "Aw thank you so much! Re: Terry Pratchett: oh man, I read nearly every Discworld book multiple times, absolute favorites growing up." [source]

User: "I kinda of assumed that Emmrich just calculates age in academia terms, so no matter how many physical years old your Rook is, you're just a tiny baby who hasn't completed a necromancy phd. "When I was your age" = "When I was a TA."" // Sylvia: "Yes, yes that math checks out." [source]

User on Emmrich: "how refreshing it was to have an argument with a LI that’s specific to their relationship. It gives the characters such texture and dimension!" // Sylvia: "Aw thank you! I liked the tone range we ended up having between everyone, it was more rewarding to do." [source]

User: "Would you guys ever expand more on Nevarra and its culture? I loved seeing the Necropolis, and hope we revisit it. But I'll be honest when I say it made me curious what life in Nevarra is like, and how infused Nevarra's Mortalitasi are with average Nevarran life." // Sylvia: "Since I've left the company, that's not really in my hands, so there's not much I can say. But I get what you mean, because the Mourn Watch are a subbranch of the Mortalitasi with a very special field of study and service. We don't really get much about everyday Nevarra. So whoever tackles that in the future, if they ever do: I think that could be neat. Lots of room to explore different dynamics and customs!" [source, two]

User: "I adore Emmrich, he's so sweet & so thoughtful! I especially adore his love for flowers, and I personally interpreted that as a hint from the writers (you!) that choosing to embrace his fleeting mortality, like the fleeting beauty of flowers, was his "good" path - is that correct? What's your take?" // Sylvia: "I tried really hard to make either choice feel like it could be the right one for him, because I wanted it to be more about a player's own interpretation-and their relationship with him-than author fiat hinting at which one is correct. Also thank you for the kind words! I really liked writing Emmrich enthusing about flowers." [source, two] // User: "He's such a charming character, the vibes of him and Josephine are among some of my favorites in the series, thank you for helping to shape them and for being kind enough to answer my question! Do you, personally, have a preference for which choice Emmrich makes? It's a tough call to make in game!" // Sylvia: "I'm afraid, like a coward, I've not stated a preference because I don't want to accidentally influence people into thinking one was right or not. I'm also in a weird place where as the person writing him, my thoughts are far less subjective in weird recursive ways. If that makes sense." [source]

User: "do you have a favorite flower? It was such a lovely detail in Emmrich's character and it warms my heart to know writing that was enjoyable for you" // Sylvia: "It kind of changes depending on what's growing during the season, but while it's very common, you can't beat the scent of a rose. (Fond of lilacs too)" [source]

User: "Did you have any role in Manfred's wisp being lilac when/if you bring him back? That detail made me bawl 😭 Manfred was so shaped by "living" with Emmrich that his essence became Em's favorite color?! The only wisp we see to do so?" // Sylvia: "I wish! I actually don't know who did that. I'd assume that colour was chosen by one of our animators, or maybe the LD, so perhaps they added in that detail, which is adorable. (Carly, Derek Wilks, was this either of you?)" [source] // Derek Wilks: "I think that was someone in VFX actually!" [source]

Sylvia: "Glad you enjoyed the graveyard date, our animators and music director did wonders there." [source]

User: "Can you give us any hints on when Dorian spent some time at the necropolis? I need to know their circumstances for science (how old was Dorian back then? I could imagine he had a crush on the professor lol)" // Sylvia: "I'm going to chicken out and not pin that down (sorry.) Since I've left BW, my answer would be even more non-canonical than usual, because that would've been something I'd have wanted to talk over with the other writers. But by that same token, nothing I've said invalidates what you want to imagine." [source]

Sylvia on Emmrich: "I am flattered to hear he has become a favorite romance, the team went all out on him." [source] // Sylvia: "So many people worked on those scenes: animation, art, audio, the editors, and huge kudos to his actor Nick Borraine." [source]

Sylvia: "I THINK Emmrich is 6'2 or 6'3, but you'd need a character artist to confirm." [source]

User: "Do the necromancers of the Grand Necropolis have their own sort of culture? Like perhaps their own rituals for marriage, courting, etc.?" // Sylvia: "Hrm. Good question. I'm sure they have some individual quirks and traditions, like any long-running institution. But they probably don't deviate unrecognizably from the mortalitasi norm." [source]

Sylvia: ""i also played a trans rook, and some of emmrich's content for a romanced trans rook made for probably some of the best romance content of all time for me." That's so nice to hear, and I must give credit to some trans people who kindly took the time to give me feedback that made those lines better." [source]

User: "1) are Tevinter exchange students like Dorian common? 2) what are some of the other fraternities of the Mortalitasi? 3) do members of the Mourn Watch often attend social events with the Nevarran elite like other Mortalitasi?" // Sylvia: "1) Yeah, I think they're not uncommon. I took my inspiration from The Grand Tour, and thought it would make sense if Tevinter sent out some of the wealthier scions to see the world a little, pick up a few new spells. [link] 2) I'm afraid I've deliberately left this one blank, for future people to fill in if/when the need arises. Emmrich complains about the palace necromancers, so we do know there's a special cadre of mortalitasi running the show over there. 3. Absolutely. The MW are pretty prestigious in Nevarra with their running the Grand Necropolis. Much as Emmrich dislikes politics himself, there's probably a lot going on at the top." [source, two, three]

User: "Do you think Lich Emmrich would eventually be told by the Lich Lords to sever his mortal ties and return with them to the depths of the Necropolis? It seems like he’s willing to break all their rules to keep Rook with him" // Sylvia: "I'm afraid defining Emmrich's duties/responsibilities/required conduct as a lich would very much be something I'd leave up to the future (even if I were still at BW.) Kind of too big a topic for me to want to speculate here." [source]

User: "did you have a hand in designing how emmrich looks?" // Sylvia: "Yep, I gave feedback as his design progressed. Our concept artists really got him very early on, though, so it was smaller stuff." [source] // User: "was he at all inspired by Peter Cushing & his hammer film characters? He really gives off van Helsing vibes to me" // Sylvia: "Time permitting I want to do a post on influences, but you got it in one exactly. It was specifically the Hammer films I was thinking about!" [source] // User: "would Rudolph van Richten from Curse of Strahd be on his list of influences?" // Sylvia: "I'm afraid, to my shame, I never read much of the core Ravenloft books, so that one's a no." [source]

User: "I needed you to know that Emmerich's conversation in the Memorial Gardens about his thanaphobia really got me. I could never put the words together of what thanaphobia feels like, and his description is perfect." // Sylvia: "It's a familiar feeling to me as well, and I'm glad it rang true." [source]

User: "I've got a really severe death phobia that's been flaring recently, and emmrich's conversation about it captured the feeling perfectly and helped lessen the weight for me" // Sylvia: "I find at least discussing it can ease it, sometimes, so I'm very glad to hear getting to know Emmrich helped in that way." [source]

Sylvia: "Hezenkoss was a blast to write so I'm glad she clicked for you. "preposterous is what you wore to a bog, Orlesian" Oh wow, Skywatcher! It's been an age, so glad that line stuck with you. That takes me back!" [source]

Sylvia: ""And yet I ask the question - what attracts Emmerich to the Hand? Yes, the answer is “perseverance”, but I think this is not fully explored." Do you mean the Hand of Glory specifically? He's intrigued and disturbed by the magic around it, which is why he hones on it, even before he knows its origin" [source]

Sylvia: ""I was wondering if you could tell us about his & Manfred's first meeting or notable moments in their friendship?" This feels like something I'd probably want to leave more to the imagination. And because I'm not a BW anymore, answers would be even more non-canonical than normal. All that said, for some reason, I always pictured Emmrich being alone in the Necropolis the first time Manfred's wisp floated up to him to peer at what he was doing. It just seems a little more poignant that way." [source, two]

Sylvia: "All credit to the team, especially the writers and editors who gave feedback that made [Emmrich] so much better during those early days and beyond." [source]

User: "me + a handful of people were wondering about non-mage mourn watchers! id love to hear your notes/thoughts about them! b/c i didnt remember hearing how they become MW or if reaper uses death magic!" // Sylvia: "Sure! Not much to say, though, I think the MW is likely a mage majority fraternity that accepts a few non-mages who have exceptional skills and temperaments sympathetic to the Necropolis. A warrior of great renown, a rogue of exceptional stealth and quiet, a baby found down there in a grave, and so forth. They'd certainly undergo the same kind of oaths and bindings every Watcher goes through. I always pictured them being provided with the best enchanted gear the MW has to offer too." [source, two]

User: "Hi! About Emmerich being a professor—does he teach at a Circle, or is he specifically a professor to other MWers and Mortalitasi? It seems like the MW has some sort of official schooling for its members since he regularly takes on students each year, could you comment on that at all?" // Sylvia: ""It seems like the MW has some sort of official schooling for its members since he regularly takes on students each year, could you comment on that at all? " Sure, but I think you have it, the MW seems to want to raise well-rounded students with a classical education on top of magecraft. In my mind, it was because they saw every MW as representing the Grand Necropolis, so of course they wanted its members to have training in etiquette and history and generally be able to move in polite society." [source, two]

User: "If I remember correctly, we only really see Emmrich use necromantic magic in-game. Are there other types of magic (elemental, healing/spirit, etc) that you think he would gravitate toward?" // Sylvia: "Hrm. He does have a bit of healing magic, mechanically in combat. It coudl work, but somehow I don't think Emmrich would ever be a high-level healer. He could maybe get the basics but it's not his great gift. Something about the gravic magic of the force mage specialty feels appropriate though." [source]

Sylvia: ""would it be possible for a (romanced) MW Rook join Emmrich in linchdom, eventually?" Yes: Rook can try, bc it's not forbidden to seek the knowledge out. (Emmrich makes it clear Hezenkoss pieced some of it together herself, so we've also seen another mage get it almost-right) It is very hard and probably takes decades to accomplish (and of course, there's no guarantee Rook would survive.) But everything written in game points to there being a chance." [source, two]

User: "I’ve been thinking a little about it and I know it’s mentioned in the game he would be interested in visiting - but how would Emmrich feel about visiting the Avvar in the south? They are one of the few groups that show respect for spirits in a similar way and I imagine he’d have a lot of questions." // Sylvia: "He'd probably love it. He'd be fascinated by their relationship with spirits, in the ways it mirrors and deviates from the Mourn Watchers' own practices. (I imagine there is also like a 15% chance he gets into a heated argument with one of them over a fine point of how spirits work exactly.)" [source]

User: "congratulations on another achievement, Emmrich took the silver trophy" // Sylvia: "I was so excited to see we'd gotten the silver trophy! I hope everyone who worked on him sees that." [source]

User: "Is there anywhere we can follow your future work after this account gets shut down ?" // Sylvia: "TBH I'll probably just reopen it it there's any cool news to share since I don't have a website or anything. (I THINK I can just reactivate it?)" [source]

User: "Thank you for Lady Josephine Cherette Montilyet, emmrich, Liara and Leigon!!!!" // Sylvia: "Thank you! (I should mention I was only a part of Legion in ME3 - specifically the N7 mission into the Geth Consensus. Great fun to work on that level though.)" [source]

Sylvia: "I'm lucky to have had the chance to bring Emmrich and Josephine to you all with the rest of the team." [source]

Sylvia: ""I still remember when you introduced yourself on old BSN when Lair of the Shadow Broker came out." Wow, you're right I did! That is a blast from the past. Thank you for the kind words!" [source]

User: "Just wanted to say thank you for all the amazing characters you helped bring to life in DA and ME. I really enjoyed Emmrich and Hezenkoss in DAV. The dynamic between them really made me laugh" // Sylvia: "Thanks! That was one of my favorite pairs to write, the history between them meant everything was always a little more personal, which is always fun." [source]

Sylvia: "Thanks Janette, loved writing Hollix." [source]

User: "Elements of Emmerich's costume resemble the Cerberus logo from ME. Is this just a reference or is there something more to it?" // Sylvia: "Gee, I can't say for sure because I didn't make it, but I'd assume that one's just a coincidence (since the Mourn Watch and Necropolis use hexagonal shapes as their primary shape language)" [source]

User: "I can just tell how well Emmrich is written along his fear. I lost my fear of death and dying as I began to honor the dead." // Sylvia: "I do think talking and thinking about these things more than we normally do helps eases the fear." [source]

Sylvia: "Thank you for these lovely thoughts. I did read some books about different customs around death, and I know a little about pagan/occult/magic practices (in a very basic and generalist sense.) So it doesn't surprise me per se, but I am very glad to hear getting to know Emmrich was a positive thing. And I'm also very glad to hear he's someone you feel you can take into the future with you as a helpful friend." [source, two]

Sylvia: ""Does Emmrich have any guilty pleasures?" Huh. Excellent question. I should really be more decisive about my own character, but while I think that could be fun, I'm not sure what it would be. "Oh one other question , is there a part of thedas you wish you could of explored but wasn't able to be in game?" I've always been interested in the sinister sounding Sea of Ash. What goes on over there???" [source, two]

User: "i have a silly little question bc i also love emmrich. was his scene revealing lichdom to everyone meant to parallel a trans coming out or was that accidental? because i felt on an existential level the thrill of revealing who you are, but also fearing people would be afraid or treat you differently. (and then there's strife discussions, and putting up a glamour some places but not others, and the blooming but gentle self-confidence... he is very transgender to me)" // Sylvia: "Not a silly question at all! After writing the scene I wondered if people would see similarities because of those overlapping themes you pointed out: the dignity of bodily self-determination, revealing your true self to those you love, fear of rejection, hope for acceptance. But during the writing, I mostly approached becoming undead as its own thing, because I wanted to ground it in the MW's particular philosophy. I think there's parallels because of the way the human personal is universal, if that makes sense. That said, if this does feel very transgender to you or anyone else (or not), I'm not against varied interpretations. That's one of the cool things about seeing people actually get their hands on your work." [source, two, three]

User: "I'm not sure what Emmrich's hairstyle is, slickback?" // Sylvia: "Good question. Afraid I don't know what it'd be called either. Googling it, slickback LOOKS correct?" [source]

User: "Emmrich has definitely developed a special bond with Bellara and Lucanis, and yet, both of them don't comment on his relationship with Rook! What would you say their reaction was? Their banter was so good I'm sure we'd all love to know what Emmrich had to say!" // Sylvia: "Ah, that one I'm afraid I can't answer since I'm not their writer, and that would've been something I would've discussed with the narrative team together. Sorry!" [source]

Sylvia: "Nick was indeed brilliant!" [source]

User: "Ive got quite bad thanatophobia and Emmerich's writing is one of the only times I've seen that dealt with actually respectfully." // Sylvia: "Thanks very much! I've experienced that fear, and I suspect it's way more common than we think, and I'm glad to hear it felt that way to you." [source]

User: "My HOF was a spirit healer, very kind & very curious, & for years I've considered how that special connection to spirits might lend itself to an interest in Thedan necromancy & puzzling out where spirits & souls begin & end. Emmrich, Manfred/Curiosity and the wisps gave me so much to think about!" // Sylvia: "that's interesting about your HOF. They may've found some kindred spirits if they ever ventured further north." [source]

User: [was] "Dorian was taken over by a nominated writer for veilguard or if his legacy was more of a team effort ?" // Sylvia: "Dorian was in the capable hands of Writer Chee" [source]

User: "I’m also dying to know what Emmrich did during Rook's stint in the prison-my thought is he not only did the majority of the work on finding Rook, but in leading the team, prob finishing touches on the dagger clone, keeping the team together in Rook’s absence while barely holding himself together at times" // Sylvia: "I think he was indeed having some very sleepless, guilt-wracked nights, working himself too hard, and trying his best on that dagger." [source]

User: "I just wanted to tell you that I love Emmrich's part of the lighthouse the books the fact that it's right next to rook's room and that johanna is in it later and that you can talk to her" // Sylvia: "Thank you! I love what the level artist there did, it's such a cozy den of a place. And I'm glad you liked meeting Hezenkoss afterwards, all praise to the level and tech designers who got her in there." [source]

User: "Are the Watchers overall vegetarian, or was it a personal preference Emmrich developed?" // Sylvia: "I think it's a thing among some Watchers, but not all. Because they think a lot about life and death and the cycle of life, and their place in it, and what constitutes a death they feel comfortable with or not. My actual, original inspiration for it was from an old Call of Cthulhu TRPG book about Miskatonic University, set in the 1920s. There was a great little detail about the campus having a cafeteria that serves vegetarians. And when I read it, I got a little jolt because I was so used to vegetarianism in North America being portrayed as a relatively modern movement. But of COURSE there's always exceptions and cultural enclaves and so on. Just one of those moments you feel your understanding of what we were up to in the past shift a little, even if it felt obvious in retrospect." [source, two, three, four]

Sylvia re: writing Manfred: "Yep, Manfred was my guy too." [source]

Sylvia: "I'm glad you enjoyed meeting our gentleman necromancer. (Full credit to the great feedback I got from the other writers and editors early on, he wouldn't be as good without them.)" [source]

User: "I was curious I know none of emmrich's serious relationships ended up panning out But like did any of them get to the point that him and his partner at the time shared a living space I'm wondering if emmrich has ever lived with anyone besides manfred" // Sylvia: "That's an interesting question. Like a coward I will hedge my bets, but I could MAYBE see a few. Not many though." [source]

#dragon age: the veilguard #dragon age the veilguard spoilers #dragon age: dreadwolf #dragon age 4 #the dread wolf rises #da4 #dragon age #bioware #video games #long post #longpost #cassandra pentaghast #my lady paladin #dragon age 5 #lgbtq #mass effect #dragon age: tevinter nights #strife

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