idk, next unsung, or something

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idk, next unsung, or something

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Part 11: Unsung
So excited to finally talk about Unsung, the irrefutable best phic in the entire phandom, by @wheel-of-fish! I honestly went back and forth on whether to include this one in the AUs animatic since it’s technically a post-canon fic, but the voice-loss concept was simply impossible to resist. In case you somehow still haven’t read it, the story begins post-musical, with Christine and Erik reuniting eight months later, except this time, Christine is mute. From there, the fic follows their travels across Europe as Erik is hunted by an unknown, malevolent force that looms constantly in the background.
What keeps drawing me back to this story— beyond the places they travel— is the way Erik and Christine interact under the weight of her lost voice. Erik learns and teaches Christine sign language, comes to understand her thoughts through her expressions, and communicates with her in ways that feel deeply intimate and intentional. At the same time, his relationship with Christine shows his capacity to connect with others and to grow beyond his usual disregard for human life, which Christine works to convey to him throughout the story. We also see Christine come into her own— becoming stronger, more self-aware, and more assured as the story unfolds. Their individual growth builds toward an ending that feels powerful and deeply satisfying, no matter how many times you reread it.
While sketching the Polaroids and frames for Unsung, I may have done a bit of “field research” by spending two days in Florence while studying abroad lol. I didn’t have time to climb the dome like Erik and Christine did, but being surrounded by Italy’s history and art made the creative process feel effortless. It really is a place that breathes beauty and story (I miss it dearly).
All in all, this is quite literally one of the best phics of all time— and last I heard, there’s an epilogue in the works 👀 So honestly, what better time than now to read it?
Frames under the cut:
Re-reading this part in 'Unsung', thought about this moment immediately:
"...she placed her gloved hand into his, watching as black kid leather enveloped bone-white cotton. His grip as he led her through the train station was firm."
Heyyy so like...if you were to peek in on Unsung E/C post-epilogue, what would you want to read about? (crossposted to instagram)
spent the past few days rereading Unsung for nostalgia's sake..... and even though im not all that into phantom anymore I fear the stranglehold your writing has on me is everlasting, Unsung may genuinely be one of my favorite pieces of work ever 😭
dfjkhgjk that is so nice, thank you 😭
I revisited it recently, and so much time has elapsed that it's REALLY hard for me not to focus on all the ways it could be better, and I have to remind myself that it has some merit 😭

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Helmet – Unsung
George Eliot wrote, "Many Theresas have been born who found for themselves no epic life wherein there was a constant unfolding of far-resonant action; perhaps only a life of mistakes, the offspring of a certain spiritual grandeur ill-matched with the meanness of opportunity; perhaps a tragic failure which found no sacred poet and sank unwept into oblivion."
One cannot help but wonder if part of her found it relatable. A period when she had to resort to changing her name to a more masculine one, remain unsung and anonymous in order to write.
One can only hope she did not consider her life one comprised only of mistakes. That she'd never sink, in hearts or in literature, let alone go unwept.