#LOOK there is one thing better than characters with sort of unhealthy codependent relationships | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

inkykeiji · 3 years ago

Text

hope you don’t stop running to me, cause i’ll always be waiting

character: dabi | todoroki touya - raver!dabi

genre: extremely sentimental fluff + smut with a sprinkle of angst

notes: okay so essentially, this is raver!dabi, but like the piece isn't really focused around that. the piece is about this all encompassing, ravenous love the reader feels for him, and it really borders on unhealthy obsession; it's about how he's the happiest she ever sees him at raves, but it's bittersweet because he's so fucking high, and it kind of contrasts his love for raves and drugs with her love for him | title cred: cinema by benny benassi ft. skrillex and gary go

warnings: 18+ minors do not interact, daddy kink, size difference, drugs, obsessive unhealthy relationship, extreme codependency, manipulation if u squint, minimal prep, a sprinkle of degradation

words: 6k

synopsis:

And he’s so fucking breathtaking—striking sapphires and stunning smile more spectacular than any piece of art you’ve ever seen, the combined melody of deep grunts and trembling groans rattling around behind his ribs better than any piece of music you’ve ever heard, endless words streaming from his swollen ruby lips lovelier than any piece of fine literature you’ve ever read.

He’s walking art, talking art, living, breathing, feeling art—and he’s all yours.

There’s nothing he loves more, no where he feels more at home, more at ease, more himself, than at a rave, you’re absolutely sure of it.

He sniffs them out like a hound, manages to find them no matter what city or country he’s in; loves them indiscriminately, regardless of how big or small they are; and drags you to each one he attends. Because he’s addicted to every single thing about them—irrevocably hooked on the pounding music that throbs like a beating heart, the marvelous colours that sear through the venue like vibrant flares of blood, the pretty pills and dazzling tabs and soft, soft powder—it all turns the party into a living entity, breathes life into the crowd, intoxicates him like nothing he’s ever felt before; and he’ll never be able to get enough of them, enough of how they make him feel, how they make him forget.

But he wants you there with him every time.

Sometimes, he’s hauling you into dingy basements full of wispy smoke and blaring speakers, staticky as they thrash out beats over a crowd, atmosphere saturated with sweat and the sickly sweet smell of hard candies. Others, he’s pulling you along on a lush field or cracked concrete tainted with brilliant flashes of crimson and violet, through thousands and thousands of people adorned in spiky fur and holographic latex until he finds the stage he’s looking for.

You don’t mind, though, unbothered by the pulsing music and the glistening crowds. You don’t mind, because this is your only chance to get these fleeting little glimpses of what true, pure happiness looks like on him—and you’re fucking addicted to it.

This weekend it happens to be a two-day-long EDM festival, set up far away from society in a large grassy meadow, embellished with wildflowers that dot the tangled jade strands with pops of pastel pinks and yellows and ivories—and it’s enchanting, whimsical, almost surreal in a sense. You can feel it, the atmosphere that drapes the masses of people scattered across the rolling hills, an energy unlike any other that envelops the patrons and lulls them into a state of soothing bliss.

He loves it. You love him.

And you’re not sure you’ll ever be able to accurately explain what the feeling of accompanying him to a rave is like; you don’t think the words even exist—the essence and aura, the feelings that swirl around in your chest, fuzzy and fluttery and fierce, transcending any and all languages. Because they’re something bigger, something better—they’re something higher, something stronger, something more than any word could ever describe.

No, there’s no way to define it, to portray it, nothing to encapsulate or summarize it, the genuine happiness that encompasses him, the way his pinched and stern features finally, finally relax, a special, gentle type of carefreeness seeping through the permanent mask of trepidation irrevocably sown into his strong face. It’s beautiful, mesmerizing to watch as they morph, the way his lips transform before your very eyes, from a firm, thin line into a loose, easygoing grin, sharp eyes liquefying as his lids droop a little, thin ring of sapphire outlining gaping onyx pupils, voracious in the way they observe, inhale, devour everything, blown and massive from whatever he’s high on—E or coke or acid; possibly a mixture of all three. You aren’t allowed to have any, of course, but it’s okay.

It’s okay, because as cheesy and stupid as it sounds, you’re high off of him—off his smell, spicy cinnamon and sweet campfire, laced with just a hint of Marlboros; off his taste, mint and smoke and sugar; off his touch, large hands caressing the natural curves and contours of your body, calloused fingertips rough and ragged as they drag across your soft flesh, skin pebbling with each graze.

It’s intoxicating, the way it invades your senses, overwhelms your receptors and has you yearning for more. It’s dumbfounding, the way your mind goes numb with him, infused with thoughts of DabiDabiDabi as he seeps and soaks and stitches himself into the tissues of your brain.

And you’ve never seen him more content than he is here, high out of his mind and entirely absorbed in the music, embraced in it like it’s a protective blanket, like it’s the arms of an old, treasured friend, like it’s home. Bitter acid creeps up your throat, blends with his saccharine spit ever-present and saturating your tongue, the thought that he’s only truly, genuinely, substantially happy when he’s high off his ass at a festival procuring a muted, blunt ache in the middle of your chest, dull blades that dig and burrow into your beating heart, shoved a little deeper with each bubble of laughter that escapes his lips.

Nevertheless, you can’t ever bring yourself to put an end to it, no matter how much it hurts him, hurts you both, because he looks so lovely, so elated—and you just can’t bear to take that from him, to take that from yourself.

Because he’s so fucking pretty like this, hair undone, careless and free as fluffy tufts of black bounce and sway with his movements, sticking to his temples and his neck—and he almost looks soft like this, strands of onyx hanging in his eyes and curling around his ears. Because happiness looks so good on him, so gorgeous on him, with those bright smiles that span his face, across his cheeks from ear to ear, and those stunning sapphire irises that glow with pleasure, contentment, bliss—and you wish, wish so desperately that you got to see it more often, that you had the chance to experience it without the drugs steadily coursing through his system, that they weren’t necessary, mandatory, in manufacturing these emotions.

But you’ll take what you can get. And he will, too—because you both love watching, both love feeling him this ecstatic, this relaxed, all his anguish and trauma forgotten, those chains that shackle him, that weigh him down and confine him, disintegrated by the synthetic emotions, burnt to ash just for a night or two.

And so, you aid, you help, you enable—because while you’ll take what you can get, you can’t ever get enough, either, eyes wide and unblinking as they place a pretty pink tablet stamped with a heart on his tongue, entranced by the way his lips close around your fingers and suck. And it’s so fucking hot, a rush of warmth flooding between your thighs and furling tightly in your belly. His eyes are shining as he stares at you, stuffed full of so much love it nearly hurts, and you want, you want, you want.

It isn’t long before drug induced euphoria is rushing through his veins and colliding with the constant, steady bass oozing from the speakers, vibrations travelling through the grassy earth beneath him until they reach his feet and flood his body. He tells you he can feel it in his chest, in his heart, in his very soul, seeping into his bloodstream like the sweetest poison, forcing a pleasant buzz through his limbs.

And it’s the best—it’s better than anything he’s ever felt, anything you’ve ever felt, hands roaming across bodies as music pours from the mammoth speakers, tracing soft lines and hard edges, fingers committing them to memory through touch alone; foreheads knocking together as he giggles into your mouth, as you suck his laughter from him and let it bloom in your chest, bright and buzzing and full of him, so full you feel as though you may burst; tongues dragging against one another as you both lick either side of a heart-shaped lollipop, sticky crimson candy sparkling in the waning sunlight, before he pushes his gum into your mouth, endless huffs of amusement spilling from one throat into another as you pass it back and forth—a game of sorts—smiling into the messy, slippery kisses, lips sliding and slurping and sucking.

Colourful beads embellish his arms, slender wrists and sculpted forearms peaking through the gaps, plastic droplets smacking together delicately with his movements. The brilliant colours are vibrant in contrast to his smooth skin, ivory tainted gold by the August sun, to later be painted by the lively splotches of aquamarine and lilac and lime and fuchsia as the lights dance through the night sky, spraying across the crowd.

His body glistens under the setting sun, varnished in a thin layer of sweat, gleaming droplets decorating his skin, catching in the beams and glittering like tiny diamonds. Strands of inky hair cling to his neck and white cotton hugs his torso, outlining the firm muscles of his back, the plains and contours that glide almost gracefully under scarred skin and soft fabric with each of his movements.

He’s a horrible dancer; truly, but he makes you giggle—which makes him giggle, large hands finding your waist and tugging you towards him, forehead bowed to yours again as he stares at you, cavernous pupils flitting from each of your features—your eyes, your cheeks, your mouth—with his lips slightly parted, as if he’s in awe. Tiny thumbs run over his clammy cheekbones, and his eyes close briefly with the motion, body swaying a little as he leans into you, further pressing his forehead into yours. His molars are grinding again, you can feel it, the rhythmic clenching and unclenching of his jaw under soft, tender palms, and you tsk softly.

“You need another lollipop, Daddy,” you tell him, and although you’re practically shouting over the music, it feels like your whispering, wisps of your adoring voice caressing his skin, curling around him and sopping into his flesh, warming him to the core of his soul. Little fingers are pressing into the hinges of his jaw as you speak, their gentle touch instantly diffusing the tension, and he nods.

The whine that catches in his throat when you pull away is one of the sweetest, most valuable sounds you’ve ever heard, and it makes your chest flutter, eyes flicking up to look at him through your lashes with a beaming smile. He’s still leaning towards you, slowly falling forward, a magnet drawn to magnetite, and you love it, you love it, you love it.

“You look so fucking cute in your tutu, princess,” he’s chuckling as you root through your tiny bag for more candy. And you can tell he really means it, a dopey smile decorating his face, eyes shimmering with mirth, with drugs, with love.

A giggle slips past your lips, hands smooth down the tufts of tulle adorning your waist as you shyly murmur your thanks, his own smile growing. Lidded sapphires float around your body, slow and belated as they take inventory, words unhurried and sluggish as they tumble from his mouth.

“I-I should…Uh, I should put some sunscreen on my baby, sh-shouldn’t I? Don’t want your shoulders or that pretty face of yers to burn, y’know,”

You really don’t need to—the sun’s sunk halfway below the horizon by now—but you indulge him anyway, would never be able to deny him a fucking thing.

It’s fumbling, clumsy and messy in his inebriated state, but it’s still so cute, so considerate, so caring, rough hands slathering the thick cream across your skin, rubbing in awkward, blundering circles—and it sends sizzling sparks shooting through your bloodstream, alighting your entire body with a blaze that is so specifically him.

The sky turns from coral to navy all at once, and then you’re clasping onto him tightly, hugging your body to his as hands roam, as fingers tangle and tug and tow, as lips latch and lick. Salt mixes with his usual taste, tongue tingling with it as it laps at the dips of his collarbones. The sharp smell of sugar stings your nose, and you inhale deeply, face nuzzling against his damp neck. He smells sweet, like sunshine and burning hickory wood, like a summer breeze grazing freshly washed linen, carrying with it a sprinkle of cinnamon.

And you can’t stop, powerless to your urges and void of all control as you nibble at the column of his throat, as you suck the prettiest galaxies of violet and periwinkle into his flesh, as the tip of your tongue traces the jutting bones at the base of his neck, over and over and over again until they’re saturated in thick layers of your gleaming spit.

Because he’s fucking delicious, and it’s never enough—will never be enough, regardless of if you spend hours kissing, until your lungs are burning and your jaw is aching and your mouths and chins and cheeks are coated in each other’s sticky saliva.

Because you’re fucking greedy, needy, hungry, limitless in how much you desire, more and more and more.

Because even when he’s pounding into you, it still isn’t ever enough. You want to consume him the way he consumes those pretty little tablets, want to breathe him in and hold him in your chest, in your heart, in your soul, forever. Not all of him, you promise, you swear, you’ll settle with just a piece—just a piece you can carry around everywhere with you, always. It’s the worst addiction you’ve ever suffered, it’s the sweetest heaven you’ve ever felt, it’s the only semblance of home you’ve ever known—you’ll keep chasing that high he gives you forever, keep chasing him as he chases drugs, and he doesn’t mind one bit.

And eventually, eventually it becomes too much to bear, just as it does every single night, this seething desire that roars and rumbles within you, rattling the cage of your ribs as it demands more. Eventually, it has you yanking on his arm, both hands clasped around one of his, shrill begs and pleads beginning to claw their way up your throat.

Strong hands manhandle you against him, a thick thigh slotting between your own, and you whimper, burying your face against his neck. With such a large crowd, and such thunderous music, and so many people higher than the clouds, no one can tell what you’re doing; no one can tell how naughty you’re being.

He knows exactly what you need, exactly what’s got you so restless, pressing his muscled thigh into your core and chuckling at the instant moan it procures.

“Daddy,” you mewl loudly against his ear, curled fingers giving another tug on his t-shirt, cunt already grinding steadily against his thigh. “I need you,”

He snickers, the sound vibrating against you, head tilting curiously and lips molding into a cocky smirk. “You need what, baby?”

And the whine that breaks in your chest is absolutely pathetic, bottom lip jutted out into a deep pout, grinding against his thigh becoming more erratic, more urgent. You hate that he’s gonna make you say it, face crumpled up in adorable irritation—his favourite expression on you, you’re sure, his smirk growing into a grin as a growl rumbles in your chest.

“Your cock,” shimmering eyes, glazed with want that reflects the flashing lights in their glassiness, stare up at him, blinking twice in enticement. “Please?”

He hums in thought as he pretends to think, to consider, as if his leg isn’t pressing further and further into your core as you aimlessly hump it, as if his cock isn’t already hard and pressed up against your hip and throbbing through his jeans, as if he isn’t grinding against you in infinitesimal motions, little gyrations of his hips that almost feel subconscious instead of intentional—as if he can’t help himself.

“Daddy!” you squeal, barely audible over the heavy bass, eyebrows scrunched in the way they always do when you don’t get what you want. “Now!”

Normally, if he wasn’t higher than the full moon hanging in the sky and flickering stars scattered in uneven clusters around it, such a bratty request would’ve earned you a hefty punishment—something that would’ve left your skin raw, cunt abused, and completely unsatisfied—because bad girls don’t get to cum, now, do they?

But tonight it only makes him laugh harder, cooing about how fucking cute you get when you’re all needy like this, like it’s the most endearing thing he’s ever witnessed, cobalt eyes shining with delight and adoration as he laces his fingers through yours, pulling you along behind him as he weaves in and out of the sea of bodies.

But the car’s too far, you’re whining as you trail behind him, a deep pout carved into your face, eyebrows knitted so firmly they weave creases into your forehead. I can’t wait, Daddy, I can’t wait!

And it’s true—you can’t wait any longer, you need him inside of you this very instant or you’ll fucking combust—a deprived addict vying for their favourite vice; a raving, ravenous fire that burns bright and blistering in the pit of your tummy, constantly starved for him.

It’s unlike anything you’ve ever experienced before, this intense, insatiable craving; one that has your thighs clenching so tightly it’s painful, that burns through your veins and scalds the insides of your stomach, that has your blood bubbling and nerves buzzing, whole body feeling electric in his presence.

It’s a gnawing urgency, one that tears at the pit of your belly and roars in your chest, filling your ribcage until it feels like it’s about to burst, until it has you choking on botched gasps of air and his name, nails digging into his hand as you tug on his arm, pleading, begging, needing.

It’s going to devour you from the inside out if you don’t get what you want soon, if it isn’t fed with what it wants soon, expletive filth spilling from your lips in frenzied little huffs as Dabi tries in vain to drag you to the car—please, Daddy, I feel like I’m gonna die, need your cock, Daddy, need it right now, right now, right now, fill me with your cum, Daddy, I’m so empty without it; warm me with your cum, Daddy, please, please, pretty please, I can’t wait!

Such sentiments, woven together between threads of high whines and broken gasps, evoke a dark snarl ripping through his chest, his true persona cutting through the manufactured euphoria for just a moment—and then you see him, you see your Daddy, you see your home, blazing in his glassy eyes as he whirls around on you and crashes his lips to yours, large hands splayed on either side of your face, nimble fingers gripping your head so tightly it hurts.

But the pressure is welcomed, little hands pawing at his thick belt again, pathetic and desirous, and the sheer force has you stumbling backwards, feet catching on your own ankles as the two of you tumble to the ground.

“You are such a fucking brat, y’know that?” he’s nearly moaning between kisses, lips never leaving yours as he spits the words into your mouth, hips snuggling into their favourite spot between your thighs.

“You love it,”

“A spoiled little bitch,”

“Y-Your fault,” you giggle into his mouth, a large palm colliding with your ass half a second later, knocking a yelp from your throat, a pitiful little squeak that he readily swallows down.

Calloused fingers twist in the lace of your panties and he yanks, holes materializing in the delicate fabric, lithe digits hooking through them and unceremoniously jerking the ruined remains down your thighs. It’s graceless, movements inept and cumbersome in his attempt to remove them from your body, stubbornly refusing to break your kiss, hovering body supported by one hand and his knees. The material finally snaps, fingers tearing through it, like fire blazing through intricate spider webs. A whine catches in your throat and he laughs darkly, tongue lapping at your neck, your jaw, your mouth itself, drenching you in sugar-infused saliva.

Lips part immediately, eagerly, ready to greet his tongue with your own, and he huffs another chuckle into you, breath scorching as it floods the cavern of your mouth, and God, he’s got himself such a good girl, such a good slut, doesn’t he?

The words are mumbled out, slick lips gliding against yours, a little slurred and stuffed full of sticky spit as massive, rough hands run up your thighs, grabbing healthy handfuls of your flesh and squeezing.

A sharp gasp escapes from your throat, hips instinctively bucking against his from the sudden pain, and he laughs, deep and sinister and reverberating against his ribcage.

You can feel the dull thud of the music in the distance, bass burrowing its way into your chest, pulsating beat slithering through the pliant earth and oozing up through the dirt against your back. Magnificent glows of azure and amethyst blanket the festival in their embrace, bleeding into one another before they morph into and emerald and magenta, haloing the grounds and all of its inhabitants.

But all of those colours, the almost ethereal beauty of the party itself, is nothing compared to the sapphire gazing down at you, the ivory skin that almost glows against the grass and the pines and the night sky, the fluffy onyx tufts your fingers tangle in.

Teeth sink into his plush, scarred bottom lip and you suck harshly, taking it into your mouth, the tip of your tongue toying with it, laving over the supple flesh and dousing it in your saliva. A snarl clatters around in his mouth as he pulls his lip from between yours, teeth scraping against it in the process.

“Daddy, Daddy, Daddy,” you’re chanting, muffled by his mouth, muddled by his tongue as it aggressively pushes against yours. “Need’a, need’a,”

The words snag in your throat, evaporating into ghosts of the sentences they were supposed to be, fading into pathetically breathy moans.

And it’s hard to think, when you’re like this, when you’re ensnared in him, consumed by his touch and smell and taste, tongue shoved so far down your throat you’re choking on it, brain gone numb—dumb—from it all, incapable of knitting together words and forming a sentence. Instead, your hand snakes between your bodies to cup his cock, a loud moan hitching in his chest as he immediately grinds against your touch.

“Want,” you mumble, groping at him and forcing a whimper from his chest. “Now, now, now,”

“So fucking needy,” he’s teasing, none of his usually heat to his voice, peppered with moans and the sweetest giggles as he rests his forehead against yours. Reaching down, two slender fingers prod your hole, giggles fading into groans as his eyes shut. “Soaked, huh?” he asks, voice strained, your head nodding almost ferociously in response. “Always drenched for me, aren’t you, my babygirl,”

But you’re too impatient to be properly prepped, to be thoroughly stretched out, impetuous legs kicking and squirming from underneath him, whining and pleading for him to just fuck you already!

They’re uncontainable, the words barreling past your lips, high and cracked and rapacious as you beg—beg for him to fill you up, to make you feel whole again, to stretch and shred and slash you to pieces, to put you back together, part by painstaking part, to complete you.

And he’s practically keening at the sentiments, hips rutting ungracefully against your soft palm, cock twitching through the denim of his jeans.

“Alright, baby, alright,” he’s hushing you, words slurred, heavy and unhurried despite his frantic actions. “Daddy’ll give you what’ya need,”

“Wanna ride,” you nearly wail, little fingers clawing desperately at his broad shoulders, fingertips sinking into his flesh through the thin cotton.

“Ch-Christ,” he nearly chokes on the curse, head nodding in choppy movements as he allows you to push the two of you over.

Because, well, baby gets what baby wants.

Or, at least, that’s what he’s telling you as you straddle him, lilt void of its normal derision, replaced with a kind of admiration.

Nails dig into the toned, smooth planes of his chest as you sink down on him, an involuntary hiss escaping gritted teeth, features scrunching in a cute wince. A hitched expletive escapes his throat, lidded eyes falling shut as his head lolls to the side, angular jaw on display.

The stretch is a welcome one, feels like home, so familiar it’s almost comforting, little cunt throbbing as you split yourself open on his cock.

Cool, refreshing air rushes into your lungs the moment he bottoms out, cockhead pressed snugly against your cervix, and that ache, that addiction, that animal tethered to the very core of your soul is immediately satiated, immense pressure deflating and the strain on your ribs easing up.

It feels perfect, feels right, feels whole, and suddenly, you’re alive again, intense sparks shocking your system as they sear through your veins, invigorated and revitalized.

It doesn’t last long though—it never does.

Because you’re just as famished, just as voracious, just as avid as that entity birthed from obsession and addiction inside of you, satisfied only for a moment before you need more.

It isn’t slow, isn’t sweet or soft, because neither of you can take that right now, neither of you need that right now. And the very moment he bottoms out, the minute you feel him nudging against your cervix, your hips begin to rock forward, rough hands finding their usual place on your hips, aiding you in your motions as he bucks up, falling into an instantaneous rhythm together

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” he’s panting out, bleary eyes watching you as his words knot on his languid tongue. “Bounce on m’cock, princess, bounce on it,”

The earth is firm beneath your knees, but you can still feel those faint vibrations travelling though the dirt. Blades of grass tangle themselves in inky tufts as his head falls back, neck arching, jade strands in a sea of black.

He’s so much louder when he’s this high, deep guttural groans rumbling in his chest, broken whines catching in his throat, growled out curses tumbling from his saliva slicked lips. Drool leaks from the corners of his mouth, dribbling down his chin, and you long to lick it up.

“You always look so pretty, s-so perfect taking my cock,” he’s babbling, voice soaked in awe, pupils blown and shimmering as they gobble up your reactions, your expressions—every little sound emitted from your throat, ripped raw and wrecked from the column; every little twitch of your features, the way your lashes flutter and eyes roll back with each roll of his hips; every little shake and shiver and shudder, tiny jolts of electricity, of him, exploding through your veins—calloused hands sliding up and down your thighs in a clumsy caress. “F-Fuck, princess, so gorgeous,”

You should be quiet—really, you should both be quiet, fucking in an open field and committing such a heinous act of public indecency.

But you’re powerless to stop the mewls and cries from prying past your lips, and he’s hopeless to quell the steady stream of words flowing from his own, increasing in pitch and frequency with each gyrate forward, with each rut and rub and grind of your hips.

“Feel good, Da-Daddy?”

And he’ll never understand how you sound so fucking sweet, so fucking precious, as obscene words flow from those pretty lips, punched out of your chest with each rock of your hips, core of your body intimately skewered by him.

He doesn’t answer, can’t answer, words dissolving into a fractured moan as he nods vigorously.

“Want you to cum, D-Daddy—ah—fill me up, please,”

The grin that splits his face is nothing short of spectacular—it’s nothing like those sharp smiles he gives his enemies, or those smug little grins he gifts his friends, or those tiny lopsided smirks that grace his lips when he’s teasing. No, this smile—this smile is only for you; a gentle quirk of his lips, parted just enough to see those gleaming pearly teeth, fluid as it stretches and wobbles with his ragged pants and snapping hips. It’s almost overwhelming, the emotion pouring from that single, simple action alone, has your chest stuttering and eyes blurring, knowing that this is something special, that this is something that is yours and yours alone. And this smile—this smile is genuine, true happiness. This smile cuts through all of the drugs and anguish and rage, shining bright and beautiful as it beams up at you.

He’s walking art, talking art, living, breathing, feeling art—and he’s all yours.

You’ll never get used to this, you swear to God. Such amazement will never cease, makes fucking him a religious experience every single time, always so astoundingly exquisite. You’ll never get used to the way those dark growls claw their way up his throat, vibrating in the column. You’ll never get used to the way your name sounds on his tongue when he’s just about to cum, all pitchy and broken and punctured by hitched breaths. You’ll never get used to the way his thick eyelashes flutter, unfocused eyes rolling in his skull just a little—never fully enough to hide that brilliant sapphire from you—right before he stuffs you full of hot sticky seed.

And you never want to.

—

This is your favourite part, has always been your favourite part, will always be your favourite part, every single time. It’s terribly selfish of you—you know it is, know it’s awful and greedy and so, so obsessive—but you love it, love it as much as he loves the drugs and the music and the ostentatious lights.

Because he clings to you when he’s coming down, nuzzles his face into your very touch, practically purrs out his admiration for you as you pat his damp face down with an old t-shirt, brushing back the stringy strands of sweat-drenched hair from his forehead.

Because you’re his protection when he’s coming down, swathing him in your love, in your gentle caresses and your tender venerations—his very own guardian angel, keeping him from plummeting into the concrete and shattering into a million pieces, cradling him in your soft wings as you ease his feet back onto this earth.

Usually it’s scary, he’s telling you that night in the backseat of his car, eyes still glazed, breathing slow and shallow. Or, it was. It was scary, coming down without you—but not anymore. Because you’re here now. You’re here with him, and you take such good care of him, and he loves you, he loves you so much, he loves you more than anything on this planet—or any others.

He used to feel nervous, he’s babbling on as tiny fingers press into tight, coiled muscles, rubbing the tension out of them in small circles. Used to have memories… he trails off then, and you don’t push, never push, just humming your acknowledgement softly, whispered affirmations falling from your lips as palms smooth over his cheeks before caressing his hair, pulling mewls from his throat as he arches into your touch.

Bleary sapphires stare up at you, glittering in the dim light flittering through his car windows from the flickering lamp posts. He’s tired, he tells you suddenly, face somber, sober, but he can’t sleep.

“I know,” you murmur, petting his hair again. “Just try to relax,”

He is trying, he promises, vigorously nodding up at you, eyes wide as if they’re imploring you to understand.

But words keep spilling from his mouth—involuntary, automatic, reflexive—unfocused eyes staring up at the roof, then darting around the car slowly, distractedly, like there’s a million other thoughts surging through his mind—you can see them, swimming in his eyes, tainted with paranoia, with fear, even though there’s a steady stream of presumably unrelated words flowing from his throat.

He talks about anything, everything, nothing—all at once. He tells you about the festival as if you weren’t there, and you let him ramble, unable to stifle the small smile that forms on your lips. Because it’s cute, and he’s still so excited. He tells you how pretty you look, tells you about how good you ride his cock, how irresistible your cunt is, how much he loves stuffing it with his cum.

And throughout it all you nod and hum and coo, just like you always do, just like you always will.

And it’s nights such as these, at four and five in the morning right before the sun begins to creep over the horizon, navy sky fading into a faint amber glow the only indication that it’s coming—that you are careless with your words, that you are more honest than ever before, because you know he won’t remember it—or, if he does, he won’t bring it up until he’s high like this again.

Because his being high provides this limbo, this purgatory for the both of you to be open and raw and vulnerable under the guise of drugs, with the knowledge that you can always backtrack, always claim not to remember or that you said no such thing, if you ever need to.

You don’t ever need to, but the option’s there nonetheless, like a buffer of sorts—a buffer for him to be raw and real, a buffer for you to be less cautious, to be more reckless and let the words stream from your lips without fear of consequence or punishment; a shield for both of you to use against such susceptibility.

It’s become an unspoken agreement between the two of you, a pass. And that’s what makes these nights the best.

And you will always consider yourself one of the lucky ones, one of the privileged few that are allowed, permitted, approved to experience him like this—to watch that well-worn mask of apathy melt from his face as drug-laced happiness bleeds and burns through it.

It hurts, sends sharp spears searing through your chest, embedding themselves in the depths of your fucking soul, because you can only imagine what true happiness would look like on him.

Maybe it would be too much, you want to trick yourself into believing, desperate to find excuses for the drugs and the artificial euphoria, to sanction this type of behaviour. Maybe he would be too beautiful, too bright, too brilliant if he were truly happy—maybe he would burn out too quickly, if he were too happy, like a shooting star that flies across the indigo sky, sparkling and sizzling and stark in it’s stunning, gorgeous and ethereal and much too short lived as it fizzles out into nothing, into darkness and emptiness, only a moment later—gone forever.

And you suppose, if that were to be the case, that you could selfishly accept this fate—if only to keep him here with you for just a little bit longer. You could help him shoulder the crushing weight of that torture, that agony, that suffering that he’s constantly carrying, spine straining under it, if it means that you get to be with him for more, for longer, for eternity. You could handle that, if it means you get to be greedy, if it means that you get to have him, on this earth, living and breathing and beside you.

Still, you hope, very much so, deep down at the bottom of your heart, that he will one day find that true, genuine, sincere happiness that he deserves—and that it will stick, not just for a moment, for a few fleeting seconds, but for a while, for forever.

He’s quiet when you tell him this. He probably won’t remember it come morning, too high to remember much of anything, but he’s so honest when he’s like this, fucked up out of his mind, and words leak from his lips without his permission as he tells you, grave and serious, that he has…in you.

And you suppose…You suppose he’s right; happiness isn’t exactly a person, or a place, or an object—happiness is a sentiment, an experience, a collection of memories, adventures, evocations.

“Happiness is...it’s when I’m with you,”

#dabi x reader #dabi x you #dabi smut #bnha smut #todoroki touya #todoroki touya x reader #waaaAAAAAAAAH #ever so slightly nerve-wracking hahaha #this is EXTREMELY sentimental you have been WARNED #it's also supposed to feel almost suffocating or overwhelming #bcoz ur reader yk #okay ANYWAY ENJOY #tw drugs #tw toxic relationship #tw daddy kink

622 notes · View notes

egcdeath · 4 years ago

Text

a blip in the reader-verse

chapter 6: extra! extra! read all about it

series summary: a minor mistake causes a shift in the multiverse that only you have the capacity to fix.

chapter summary: you kept your friends close, and your enemy even closer.

pairing: politician!andy barber x journalist!reader, steve rogers x reader

word count: 4k

warnings: american politics, fake dating/marriage, angst at the end, heavy codependent behavior at the end

author’s note: i saw @jtargaryen18 post about politician!steve a while ago and must’ve internalized it because this chapter pretty much wrote itself. just a heads up: all of my political knowledge comes from political sitcoms, so sorry in advance if i get some things wrong. another warning is that there are still some very unhealthy relationship dynamics at play here, so promise me you won’t be like reader okay?

previous chapter / series masterlist

Is Andy Barber Really the Best for Our Nation’s Future?

Opinion

by Y/N L/N

Feb 7, 2021, 4:36 PM ET

After tonight’s debate, the question that’s begged is if Andrew Barber is truly fit to run our country. Although he’s clearly a front runner for his party’s nomination, he’s shown time and time again that he may actually be our weakest candidate.

His weaknesses were highlighted during the debate, with his dodged questions and vague answers. At this point in time, it’s hard to tell if Barber has a platform at all.

With Super Tuesday just around the corner, I ask you to reevaluate your support for Barber. Though a charming candidate, it seems that that’s all he has, his charm. His policies are weak, and borderline impossible, and he certainly isn’t the right person to become the most powerful man in the world.

—-

When you became conscious, you were no better than unconscious. Your eyes opened and were immediately met with a harshness from the sun peeking through a window. You shifted away from the brightness, body sinking into a memory foam mattress while your nude form rubbed against similarly soft sheets. You sleepily rubbed your eyes before they flitted throughout the room you were in. Observing an oddly clean, generic looking area, you’d quickly connected the dots that you were in a hotel room. A rather fancy one at that.

Soft breathing came from next to you, and as you turned your head a bit more, you were met with the back of a fluffy and dark haired man. You weren’t completely sure, but judging by your history of finding your way to Steve, you’d assumed that it was some alternate form of your partner.

The man in bed next to you yawned, and haphazardly threw an arm in your direction, before rolling over to greet you, “morning sunshine,” he slurred sleepily.

The beard was a bit of a surprise to you. Though you’d begged and begged your Steve to keep it, he often refused for one reason or another. Seeing the man next to you who (what was now much clearer to you) a version of your boyfriend, was a rather pleasant surprise.

“Morning,” you responded in an equally sleepy manner, ignoring the rhythmic vibration coming from your night stand.

“Mm, you should get that,” he mumbled, pressing a disoriented peck to the side of your head while you reached over to grab your phone, which you could now see was the perpetrator of the vibrations.

“Hello?” you asked into the phone.

“Are you dumb? Or are you fucking stupid?” Aaliyah’s voice scolded through the phone. “Do you know what kind of position you’ve put me in? This is a fucking mess, Y/N. All for some dick? How could you be so careless?! Jesus!”

“What are you talking about?” You glanced over at Andy, and sat up a bit, pulling the crisp blankets over your body in an attempt to retain some form of modesty.

“Don’t play dumb with me. You’re fucking Andy Barber, but you’re writing articles about him like you just watched him kill your dog. You realize that this puts all of us at risk, right? You’re gonna lose your job, I’m gonna lose my job since I decided to edit and publish your shit, and you and I will lose any sort of journalistic integrity we’ve ever had, or will have, for the rest of goddamn time! Seriously, you could’ve had anyone, but Andy Barber? Andrew fucking Barber?” she groaned over the line.

“Uh, I’ll uh, call you back,” you whispered.

“You’re joking right? Are you with him right now?”

“Aaliyah!”

“Oh my god, you’re with him right now. You’re a fucking mess,” she huffed before hanging up.

Why did the universe have to send you off to such a shitshow?

You rolled out of bed, and sulked into the bathroom, desperate to find out what was going on. While sitting on the toilet, you scrolled through the wall of notifications; tweets directed at you, messages from confused friends begging you to call them when you had a chance, and even the occasional concerned email.

You grimaced as you read through each one of them, eventually clicking on the article that many seemed to be referencing, which included a paparazzi photo of you and this Andy Barber character entering a hotel together sometime in the late night to early morning, partnered with an article or two of your own criticizing him. At first, you wondered if he was some sort of celebrity, but what you ultimately found out was much worse.

He was a politician. A senator who was running to be president.

You screamed into your hands, before tossing your phone aside, and starting a warm shower for yourself. Perhaps the shower could help jog your memory a bit.

Stepping into the steamy chamber, and letting the water pelt down onto you did do wonders for you, and it gave you a moment of focus. With both your memories from this universe, along with the information you’d been given through your phone, you were able to piece a few aspects of the universe together.

You were a journalist, a popular one at that, Andy was Steve, but not Steve, and also a presidential candidate. Aaliyah was your editor, and a higher-up at the Times, and you were about to have your ass handed to you over an affair. At least Andy wasn’t married.

Your shower must’ve taken longer than you’d expected, as there was a soft knock on the door after some time.

“Everything okay in there?” a slightly muffled voice asked.

“Yeah. Just peachy. Why aren’t you more worried about this?” you called back.

“I have a good publicist. And campaign manager. I just have a good team,” Andy paused briefly. “When you’re ready, room service is ready.”

----

Over aggressive mouthfuls of fresh fruit and bitter coffee, you conversed with Andy.

“How are we gonna fix this?” You questioned while setting down your fork.

“Well, it’s simple. We just have to find some kind of spin to this whole story. Maybe you were just interviewing me, or getting a soundbite from me.” “Why would you agree to get a soundbite from someone who clearly has it out for you?” You set your fork down, and crossed your arms over your white robe clad chest.

“That’s a good question,” Andy nodded a bit, “a good question for someone else to answer.”

“Why don’t we let your publicist figure out how to play this?”

“I’d say I’m a bit of an expert at this at this point, but I’ll call my team.”

“You do that, I need to assess the damage to my career,” you huffed, moving to sit on the bed so that you could aggressively scroll on your phone in peace.

Andy called someone, and you patiently waited while he chatted with them.

“Okay, Y/N. We can’t leave through the front, so my guy’s gonna pick us up in the garage. We have like, half an hour,” he tossed his phone aside, then maneuvered himself to get in bed with you, setting both hands down on either side of you, and placing a soft kiss on your lips. He slowly began to inch down your body, untying the belt of your robe as he did so, when you interrupted him.

“What do you think you’re doing, Andrew?”

“We have time.” He looked up at you.

“We are not doing this. What do you think got us into this mess in the first place?” you frowned, moving one of his hands so you could slide away from him.

“Are you serious?”

“Yes! Why aren’t you taking this seriously! Do you realize that both of our careers are at stake here? I don’t want to lose my job because I’m having an affair with you. You shouldn’t want to lose a shot at office for a woman you’re not even with.”

“Come on, we’ve been doing this for almost a year, and you only have a problem with it now?”

“Yes! The public had no idea before! They’re going batshit now! And the worst part is that I’m the one taking the most heat,” you sighed, and Andy gave you a frown.

“I’m sorry, Y/N. You know I didn’t want this to happen.”

“It’s kinda too late for sorries now.”

——

You stepped out of your suite about five minutes after Andy left, suitcase in tow, blocky sunglasses on your face, and a heathered grey peacoat draped over your shoulders. Although you were stressed from the controversy you’d found yourself in, you couldn’t help but feel the buzz of excitement from having to hide from the paparazzi. At the same time, you felt quite bad for this version of yourself.

When you finally got out to the designated Cadillac, you asked for his driver to roll up the partition, like you’d done a million times before, then looked out of the tinted windows. The ride was pretty awkward, considering you were in no mood to talk to Andy, and Andy felt bad about the issues he’d imposed on you from his own carelessness. He set a cautious hand on top of yours, and though you were agitated, it did brighten your mood the slightest bit.

After what felt like forever, you arrived at his campaign building, and you were ushered into a small, soundproof space, with a large and round pine table in the center of it. Surrounding the table was a very tired looking Aaliyah, and… Tony Stark?

“How’s everyone’s weekend been?” Tony asked, breaking the ice as you and Andy settled into your seats.

“Are we really doing small talk right now?” Aaliyah deadpanned, “sorry, that was uncalled for.”

“Alright, straight to the elephant in the room then. You two were out spotted, big deal, happens all the time to politicians and their mistresses-“

“I’m not his mistress! You know this, Tony,” you huffed.

“Tony knew and not me?” Aaliyah gasped.

“Well-“ you began.

“Save it.”

“It was on a very need-to-know basis,” you muttered.

“Back to what I was saying. I suggest that we don’t address it, unless addressed.”

“I don’t know if you’re dense, or what, but that’s the exact opposite of what we need to do. We have to get on top of this story before the story is that you,” Aaliyah gestured at you, “are packing your shit at the Times.”

The door shot open, and quickly closed. A slightly flustered blonde man stumbled through. “Sorry to interrupt,” he began.

Aaliyah rolled her eyes at this notion, muttering a ‘sure you are’ to herself.

“We just finished polling numbers, and Andy, you’re up?” He projected the screen of his iPad onto a TV in the room, then passed the device over to Andy on his way to sit down.

“Thanks, Vis,” he gave him a curt nod.

“Why would our candidate allegedly hooking up with someone who hates him boost him in the polls?” Tony asked.

“Middle America loves a family man, you know that,” Vision said in a matter of faculty manner. “Andy has had a hard time connecting with that demographic because when they see him, they see an Elitist East-coaster.”

“Hooking up with a hot reporter does not make you a family man,” Aaliyah retorted.

“That brings me to my next point. If you don’t mind, I’d like to add a proposal of my own,” Vision stated, and received a shrug from the rest of the room. “Well, if we need to put a spin on this, the obvious choice is to explain that they’ve been seeing each other the whole time. Under wraps, of course. The photos the paparazzi received are not damning by any means, and look more romantic than sexual, to be quite frank. Y/N wrote those articles to throw the public off her scent, and she didn’t really believe anything she said, and Andy? He’s just a good, all American man who was tired of keeping his relationship under wraps. Everything’s to gain from this plan.”

“Well, I lose my journalistic integrity. That’s a pretty big loss to me. I may never work again,” you rubbed your forehead in a distraught manner.

“You won’t have to worry about working when you’re the First Lady. Think about it, if we can get votes from the swing states, we’ve secured enough electoral votes to have a Barber win. All over a little character rebrand.”

“Excuse me, the First Lady?” You nervously glanced between Vision and Aaliyah while you attempted to pick your jaw up from the floor.

“Well, yes. We can’t exactly get the full ‘family man’ look without Mr. Barber being a real husband.“

“Are we talking, real wedding?” Aaliyah questioned.

“Yes. You just have to be legally bound together for around four years, eight years tops. About twelve would be preferable, but I understand that not everything works out.”

“I don’t object to that,” Andy winked and nudged you a bit.

What a mess.

“Back to what I was saying, we’ll probably need about a two week PR period before we do a press briefing announcing the engagement. Give or take. During that time, we could have your publicist arrange all sorts of good photo ops for you two.”

“Either way, my career is ruined,” you sighed, and Andy set his hand on your back.

“Sorry, sweetheart.”

“You don’t have to do that. We’re not currently standing in front of 30 cameras.”

“Well, we should prepare for when we are in front of 30 cameras.”

“Is it though?” Vision interjected, bringing you and Andy back from your aside. “We can just deflect, maybe have a few of your friends make articles about how what you did wasn’t all that bad.”

“Is it not a valid criticism of me that I was sleeping around with the person who I was also slandering?”

“Is it not possible to criticize someone you care about? In fact, helping someone learn how to improve can be very romantic,” Vision shrugged.

There was a brief silence throughout the bunch while everyone pondered a counter argument.

“That right there, that kind of insight is why we call you the Vision,” Tony shook his head and proudly clapped the man on his back.

“So it’s settled then? We’re really doing this?” You glanced around at your peers while Aaliyah spoke. “Any objections, love birds?”

Andy shrugged, “I’d be happy to spend the rest of my life with her.”

You, on the other hand, weren’t so sure.

——

Barber and his Greatest Critic Break Bread Together on Friday

Y/N L/N Announces She’s Not Resigning from Senior Position, and That She’s Been Seeing Barber!

BREAKING! Barber Announces Relationship with Critic Y/N L/N

Is L/Nber the Ship that Shows us How Relationships Are More Powerful than Politics?

Our New Favorite Political Power Couple Showed Up Together at a Rally, and We Couldn’t Be More Excited.

Barber 7 Points Ahead in the Polls, Leaving Loguidice and Kline Trailing Far Behind

Was Y/N Really in the Wrong?

“L/Nber” Celebrate Valentine’s Day Together

These L/Nber House Hunting Photos Are Giving Us Life!

This was your reality for the next two weeks. The news cycle was filled with a plethora of articles about you, some criticizing you, some criticizing Andy, but most, supporting the two of you in your romantic endeavors. Unsurprisingly, the world loved a good story about two attractive people getting together.

During this period, you didn’t particularly feel like leaving, though the thought had certainly crossed your mind. You just weren’t sure that you wanted to be dealing with those terrible symptoms again in the midst of an already stressful stage of your life. At the same time, it seemed like the universe was not going to be fair with your time in this reality. You were convinced that you were here for the long haul, or at least, until Andy proposed to you.

Although it was a bit annoying, cameras around every corner, a watchful eye on everything that you or Andy even considered doing, you found yourself growing on Andy. In some ways, he was a bit more intense than Steve, whose personality had mellowed out a bit since the Snap.

This had been the first time in all of your travels where you felt like ‘Steve’ was the one pursuing you, and in all honesty, it made you feel good. Even if everything the two of you did had an aftertaste of artificiality.

You spent more and more time with him every day, staying together with him in hotels across the country, visiting local businesses with him to get the perfect photo op, and attending galas with donors. It seemed like in every candid photo of Andy, you weren’t too far behind. By the time the day of your proposal arrived, you weren’t even all that opposed to the marriage.

When the proposal finally arrived, the two of you were sat inside a rather fancy restaurant, finishing up your meal when Andy settled on one knee in front of you, “Y/N,” he began, and you felt the all too familiar tremble of your watch on your wrist.

You almost had to restrain yourself from exclaiming out loud. It’s not that you didn’t like Andy or anything, he’d genuinely grown on you. In the least cheesy way, it wasn’t him, but you. Being somewhere so unfamiliar for so long had begun to create a cumulative exhaustion that wore a bit more on you every day. Feeling homesick was an understatement.

You brought your hands up to your face, and gasped dramatically, squeezing your eyes shut to see if you could possibly produce a few tears, while mobile cameras and a few professional flashes were directed towards you. A few warm droplets slipped down your face, and for a moment you weren’t even sure how fake they were. It seemed like once they started, they couldn’t stop.

You missed Steve, your Steve, the man you’d fallen in love with. You missed your friends, teammates, and family. You missed the stability of knowing what the world held for you next.

In the midst of Andy’s proposal, in what should’ve been the happiest moment of your life, all you could focus on was your overwhelming desire to have a sense of normalcy in your life once again.

——

You woke up in a cold sweat, heart racing in your chest, and shaking your ribcage. You looked up to the ceiling of what you had grown to know was your room in the Compound, your real room, and felt your eyes well up in tears that stung you.

You sat up, and took as deep of a breath as you could manage, when you noticed Wanda sitting by your bedside.

“Oh good, you’re awake,” she said softly, coming closer to you, offering you a glass of water before sitting at the foot of your bed.

“Where’s Steve?” you asked, trying to gauge where you were.

“Honey,” she sighed softly. “I’m so sorry. He’s still missing.”

Your lip trembled as you took a sip. You really were back home.

“I know you’re hurting, but when you feel a little better, we’re going to Medbay. Banner decided that we should probably keep an eye on your vitals, but you were gone before we even had the chance to get you there.”

You gulped down the water, then set it on your bedside table, “so was that all just a dream or something? Why isn’t Steve back?” you huffed frustratedly.

“I don’t know why he isn’t back, but I don’t think you were dreaming. I was trying to watch your dreams, but I couldn’t read you, or your thoughts at all.”

“Hmm,” you mumbled, throwing your legs over the side of the bed, “let’s go.”

As you settled into the cold, and sterile medical facility you were hooked up to a plethora of monitors, and a cacophony of devices beeped as they read your physical state.

You tuned out the words being spoken around you, zoning out and looking forward to your vital signs monitor. Your mind wandered to your last few thoughts in your previous reality, the desperation to come back, to see your estranged lover again. You couldn’t help but to feel disappointed, lamenting the fact that you’d found your way home, yet felt the ever present void in your heart where your Steve used to be.

“Y/N?” a voice asked you, and you glanced in its general direction. “What happened while you were out? What did you see? Did it work?” Bruce pelted you with questions.

“I don’t know if I’m ready to talk about it yet,” you sighed softly, bringing a hand up to your neck and rubbing it. “The watch worked though, I was definitely in other universes. I just couldn’t reach him. Bring him home. I failed.”

“Do you think he’s really out there?” Bruce whispered to Wanda hoping that you might not pick up on it.

“I’m… I don’t know. I just don’t know how likely it is that we’ll manage to find him,” she responded in a hushed tone. You bit back tears as she spoke, resuming your empty gaze on the pixelated green text of your heart rate on the monitor.

“I’m sorry, guys. I have to go back,” you interrupted. “I can’t give up on Steve yet. I know he wouldn’t give up on me.”

“Y/N, you could be gone for centuries before you find him, then return back here with no time passed at all, and possibly no Steve. You don’t deserve to take on all of that pain,” Wanda set a hand on your shoulder. “Steve would’ve wanted you to move on from him. To find happiness without him.”

“I can’t do that, Wanda. Without him I don’t even know who I am,” your voice trembled as you spoke. “He’s literally been my only tether through all of this.”

“I just don’t know that this is the best thing we could be doing. Sure, you’re physically fine, but it almost seems like you’re doing worse emotionally than you were before you left,” Bruce added.

“I’m not!” you sniffled before continuing. “I’m just tired from going to all those new places.”

Bruce and Wanda didn’t seem too convinced. “Don’t you guys believe in me? When have I let you down on a mission before? I’m gonna find him, okay? I’ll find him if it’s the last fucking thing I do,” you blubbered.

Wanda’s hand slid down your shoulder, and to the watch that was currently on your wrist.

“Don’t,” you uttered, swinging your opposite hand to grab onto your own wrist. You were aware that there was absolutely no way you could overpower her in taking the watch from you, but even in your minor hysterics, you were able to think fast enough to press the round button before the watch was able to be taken off of you.

You, and your wrist shook. Wrist shaking from the watch, and promise of sending you elsewhere, and you from a mixture of sobs and adrenaline. Though not the most ideal exit, it was an exit nonetheless.

You weren’t even sure if you cared that you were on good terms with your teammates anymore.

You just needed to be with Steve again.

#steve rogers x reader #captain america x reader #andy barber x reader #andy barber x you #marvel fanfiction #ABITRV

42 notes · View notes

ghost-in-the-stalls · 4 years ago

Note

Honestly I think of Andrew and Kevin’s relationship sort of how I think of Andrew and Aaron’s where they’re unhealthy, codependent relationships that exist the way they are because of a few positive things that come from the circumstances that arguably do carry the characters into a better future that might not be possible otherwise, but in the present are mostly harmful for everyone involved. To maintain any worthwhile relationship BOTH parties need to put in a lot of work, not just Andrew.

All around good points strongly agree

Like, Kevin and Aaron both have very rocky and uncomfortable relationships that need a LOT of work to really be something positive. But the potential is there!

Like we all know that’s the case for the twinyards, obviously. But yeah I think we don’t talk a whole lot about how MOST of Andrew’s relationships with other people aren’t positive. Kevin is included in that. I agree with you about the dehumanizing part of it. And I don’t necessarily think that Andrew is the only person Kevin degrades in that respect... in a lot of ways, people are only worth to him what they can do on an exy court.

But it’s different with Andrew. It’s different in that (and I’ve seen other people talk about this here and there) they have a deal that Andrew protects him and he in turn gives Andrew something to live for. That’s like a double hit combo. For one, that’s putting Andrew in the role of body guard over everything else. Even calling them “friends” feels like a huge leap sometimes. Andrew is there to guard Kevin from Riko- and to act as Kevin’s partner. Because Kevin was raised to always need to be attached at the hip with someone. So that’s what he’s decided Andrew is.

Secondly, though, is him saying he’ll give Andrew something worth living for. First of all, that’s vague and unhelpful. Personally, I feel like people need to find those things for themselves. And it’s not that we can’t take help from others or find some of those things in others... but there’s a difference there. To me, it kind of outright feels like Kevin telling him “I’m gonna find you something to fix you” and I......... don’t like that lol

That might just be me interpreting it that way. But even if we look past that, we know that Kevin’s intention was to get Andrew hooked on exy. He wanted to exchange protection for healing, but that healing was intended to come from Andrew choosing a future in exy. You can’t make those decisions for other people. And Kevin just assumed that exy is (or would be) what Andrew wanted.

So yeah all around I don’t think their relationship is a positive one at the moment. I think Kevin is bad at treating others as equals and human beings in general, but I think it’s especially bad with Andrew because it comes through the form of necessity of them being together and a claim of working towards healing (that is not even approached in the right way).

And this REALLY isn’t just me trying to shit on Kevin. Andrew treats him like dirt too in a lot of ways. I just strongly agree with what you said - Kevin doesn’t really treat Andrew any better than the upperclassmen with their “monster” bullshit - and I feel like we don’t talk about that nearly as much as Andrew’s behavior.

The characters in aftg are all carrying a lot of their own baggage, but they’re also all carrying a lot of baggage between them. Ignoring that baggage isn’t doing any of the characters or relationships any favors! That’s why they’re all so intriguing!!!

#aftg meta #aftg #my writing

20 notes · View notes

river-bottom-nightmare · 4 years ago

Note

What's your favorite DC ship?

Oh dear god this is a difficult question. I have so many, and they’re all for different reasons. Jayroy is the epitome of hurt/comfort and family fluff, timkon has so much great canon material and can honestly be read as a traditional romcom, and I really like the way damijon could develop in the future. I’m actually a fan of Bruce and Selina, and just Selina in general, because her character is pretty amazing and the way she interacts with Bruce and the rest of the batfam is always fun to read. Roy and Kori in Outlaws was done pretty well, and Dick and Kori’s relationship in Titans context is great. Issues where Babs is written well has some great romance between her and Dick. In the YJ universe only, Bart and Jaime is just so cute. And of course you can’t forget Barry and Iris, their relationship is a classic and I love it.

But If I had to choose a favourite, I’d go with Birdflash, aka Dick Grayson x Wally West. Now, this may just be because Wally is my favourite of the speedsters and Dick’s my favourite of the batfam. (By which I mean he’s my favourite character. He is NOT my favourite Robin, but as a character in general I love him.) But the thing is, Dick and Wally are the epitome of friends to lovers, and that makes their relationship so effortlessly easy.

Ever since they were kids, Dick and Wally have always been close. Depending on what story arc you’re looking at, Wally was the first person Dick told about his secret identity. Yes, the Titans were all extremely close, and that’s what makes them such an incredible team, but Dick and Wally’s relationship in particular was special. They’re different enough to make their dynamic interesting, but similar enough tie their friendship together. And the fact that their relationship (in fanon, unfortunately) grew organically out of their friendship makes it all the better.

Because when it comes down to it, Dick and Wally will always be best friends first and whatever else second. They’ve got obligations and promises to each other, and it doesn’t matter if they’re fighting as a couple or having a squabble about League matters or whatever. The two of them have each other’s backs, no matter what. Not out of sense of duty or responsibility, but because they truly care for the other on a fundamental level. But at the same time, they know not to get too wrapped up in each other, because obsession only leads to pain. They get along and they have fun, they laugh and they joke and they keep things light and happy whenever possible, while also loving each other deeply and passionately. When they fight, they cool down and talk about it because they know what bottling up does to people.

And the most important part is that they know how to live without each other. There are so many couples where one person cannot live without the other, and they’re painfully codependent. And I will admit, there is a certain romance in your fate being so intertwined with another’s that you cannot be separated. In a perfect world, those two will love each other forever. But that sort of relationship is unhealthy and can grow toxic. Dick and Wally, on the other hand can live without each other. They have independent lives, families, friends. They have a life outside of each other, and they can live apart and keep themselves going. They simply want to be together. They don’t need the other to exist, they don’t feel incomplete without the other. They choose to be together because they are both incredible individual people who complement each other rather than complete each other. And that makes their relationship all the more stronger.

In conclusion, I have many many birdflash feels. and I love them.

#birdflash #dick grayson #wally west #nightwing #the flash #dc

54 notes · View notes

tothedarkdarkseas · 4 years ago

Note

Hi, I just want to say that I adore your characterizations and your interpretation on the 2Doc dynamic — it’s refreshing to say the least, lol. Idk, I’m a sucker for bleak, unhealthy relationships. I’m not sure if you’ve ever been asked this, but I was wondering how do you address the criticisms of 2Doc as a ship, or problematic ships/characters in general? As someone who is involved in a few ships that some would deem as ‘problematic’, I find it difficult to fully articulate my stance on shipping as a concept. Of course I don’t think shipping is synonymous with believing the characters could realistically be in a healthy, productive relationship, but I still find it hard to address the (often valid) criticisms of the ships I like without fear of it verging on romanticization of an abusive or toxic relationship. Anyway, love your stuff and hope you’re doing well! ❤️

Thank you so much for your incredibly kind message! That means so much to me, thank you. And you’re not alone, I too am a sucker for bleakness! This got a bit long so it’ll be behind a cut!

This is an interesting question, and one that I fear has an unsatisfying answer. When I think back on the ships I’ve had strong feelings for, there are a few I’d call uncontroversial, but most often I am interested in human drama; it isn’t so much an obsession over the story being “dark,” but the complexity and conflict that comes from two people having problems, which they may or may not overcome. And there arises the issue: there’s a marked difference between a relationship being problematic, and being problematic. 2Doc is, in fairness, both, and I just try to steer it toward the former.

To be frank with you, the fandom has been fractured for a very long time, and I’ve always felt a bit alienated from both the glorifying of abuse, and from the “wholesome” excuses that arose counter to it. (I don’t try to position myself as an authority or very universal on this, so I apologize in advance, and hope other fans understand that we’re coming from similar places and simply have different paths there.) I think if you look through 2Doc discussions of the past few years, you’ll see a lot of the same talking points about how it was problematic but they’ve since healed, or that it is a narrative of growth and forgiveness, or a similar approach of acknowledging toxic history but refuting that their content is at all toxic. I completely understand why this is the popular argument, but it isn’t the one that resonates with me. They’re not wrong for saying it-- this is fandom, therefore authors are crafting their own narrative, that’s sort of the point of doing this, but-- do I think my narrative is about forgiveness? Not really, no. Do I think it is fair, then, to categorize it with the abuse porn which delights in removing Stu’s autonomy? No, I don’t agree that’s fair either.

I respect those who like to create and consume happier stories, but speaking purely for myself, I think you run a risk when you choose to present an unhealthy relationship as “fixed,” or navigate around valid criticism by saying they’re all better now, or worse, arguing it down. Despite good intentions, it minimizes the longterm damage that a power imbalance like this does, it disregards the responsibility of one or both parties to actually live with consequences for their actions even if those consequences are only interpersonal, and most frustrating and damning to me, it denies Stuart the right to be angry, vindictive, or hurt in a way that does not flatter the romantic tragedy of trauma. I do know that this is harsh, though. I understand that isn’t the intention, and I know it comes from a place of loving the idea of this kind-hearted martyr figure-- but idealizing forgiveness no matter the toll is not a healthy mindset and I don’t see it as fair to Stuart. I do think that in the real world people understand the dangers of guilting victims with this mindset, but this is fiction, and it’s nice to dream up a story of tilling the dead flowers from the soil and tending to it, nourishing it, and growing something beautiful from it. I completely get that, and I don’t fault people for it. It just isn’t what I’m writing for, and so this conversation never really satisfies me.

For me, I find it best not to circle around or try to disprove these points, but rather to meet them. Yes, we agree it is not an aspirational relationship or one the characters should wisely pursue. I think a critical fan reading my stories and attacking the relationship’s portrayal as unhealthy would be kind of a moot point, because I’m not presenting it as anything else-- but it is my hope that the characters are compelling and not merely an edgy, ghoulish spectacle. There are moments in my Sad Nonsequential Extended Universe where they banter playfully and where they share an intimacy that is (to their chagrin) romantic in its singularity, but at no point is the relationship whole, at no point is Murdoc apologetic in a way that Stuart is obligated to forgive. Speaking only for myself, that is the joy of writing, and that is what I come back to these characters for. I feel fulfilled by the unfulfillment, and I feel it is entirely possible to tell a story about cruelty and remorse without chaining either character to a leaden ball of either redemption or sainthood. And-- and this is the big and-- I think it’s possible to do this without reveling in trauma either.

There is a difference between appreciating human folly, codependence, and resentment as ever-present cracks in a foundation, and glorifying, romanticizing, or fetishizing a character’s lack of agency or suffering. It has been hurtful, at times, to feel there is no distinction made between bleakness in service of a story and abuse simply for its own sake.

It doesn’t thrill me to read Stuart as powerless against Murdoc, a pretty and broken thing too weak to escape, and it doesn’t thrill me to read Stuart as utterly benevolent to Murdoc, existing only as a bridge Murdoc may walk across to get to the next stage of his own story. I don’t think Murdoc wants Stuart to be that, either. I don’t think they could ever be wrapped up in each other for so long if he thought so little of him. And truth be told, I can acknowledge that this is now my narrative running away with me, this is something I’m choosing for them based on a characterization and history that doesn’t really exist, and for that reason I can’t fault anyone for finding the argument less than compelling. I can also acknowledge that this sounds a bit grand for a bunch of oneshots about bad sex and substance abuse, so, er, I’m sorry for that too.

Here’s where the unsatisfying bit comes in, about writing and discussing flawed characters without excusing or admiring their faults: I just think it’s something you know. If you ask a baker to tell you when you’ll know the dough is the right consistency, they may suggest you compare it to the softest part of your thigh, but they’ll amend that they don’t really think in those terms: they just know it when they see it. The best I can offer is that I find candor to be essential in conversation, and I think it’s a good idea to worry less about disagreeing than effectively communicating your interest in weighty storytelling. I think being able to take a step back from the impulse of defensiveness, knowing that you are a respectful and empathetic person, knowing that you have these concerns about romanticization and about invalidating fair concerns, is the absolute best thing you can do. Talking is not about winning! I hope this response was helpful at all! Thank you for your question!

#<3 #Anonymous

2 notes · View notes

blithers · 4 years ago

Text

Dear Yuletide Writer

Hello! I love Yuletide (this is my tenth year participating, actually! my tinaversary!), and I’m so happy you’re writing for me. I’m active here on tumblr, somewhat active on twitter, and I’m blithers on AO3.

I have quite a few shippy thoughts here, but I am always thrilled to read gen fic focusing on the dynamics and interactions between characters, if that’s where you would like to take any of these character combinations or prompts!

Things I Like: Characters who yearn for something better. Intense romantic longing. Humor. Jokes. Flirting. Really blatant flirting. First times. Sex! Porn! Codependency, all the way to its unhealthy extremes. Sarcasm. Arguments as foreplay. Forced marriages. Pretending to be in a relationship. Bittersweet endings. Happy endings. Things that are left unsaid. Phone sex. Tropes. Soulmate AUs. Awkward make outs. Awkward sex. Cunnilingus. Sharing a bed/sleeping together without having sex. Truth or dare. Secret identities. Sex pollen. Desperation. Epistolary narratives. People who are extremely competent at their work. Found families. Road trips. Friends deciding to lose their virginity with each other.

Do Not Want (DNW): Major character death. Pregnancy or babies.

Requests for: The Agency - Y.S. Lee, Never Have I Ever, The Folk of the Air - Holly Black, and The Hating Game - Sally Thorne.

The Agency - Y.S. Lee James Easton, Mary Quinn

I adore this YA mystery series, and I’d love to get a closer look into the James/Mary relationship than what you get in the books. It’s such a shame we didn’t get to see any of their actual married life in the books, as I am so interested to find out what those adjustments are like for the two of them - I mean, they were both just panting to be married, I’m sure they’re all over each other like crazy, and I love the intimate discoveries you make when living with somebody for the first time. I would love to read about their wedding night (or the days immediately following their wedding) in particular - and if it makes any sort of difference, I sort of assume James is a virgin as well as Mary. Or, I always wished they wrote more to each other in the books - I adore the one letter that James did write begging Mary that the two of them should be friends/more-than-friends in the third book, and I would love to read more in the epistolary vein with the two of them corresponding and having a relationship/wooing each other via letters. Some other ideas: Casefic, different times they made out in the carriage, handcuffed or bound together while investigating a case together, any sort of trope-iness while in the midst of detective work would be amazing!

Never Have I Ever Devi Vishwakumar, Paxton Hall-Yoshida, Ben Gross

I love Mindy Kaling and her sense of humor, and I got such a kick out of this show this year! I love Devi in particular - her brashness, her confidence, her insecurities, and the entire world she inhabits. I’d love fic focusing on Devi with either Paxton or Ben: feel free to leave the other boy out and focus on the pairing of your choice, or to include all three of them, if you like. If you are interested in writing about all three, what about a fic where Devi decides that the way to solve her love triangle situation is obviously to have a threesome, of course (Never Have I Ever Had a Threesome!), with results that could range anywhere from comedic total failure, to it kind of working in some fashion and all three characters learning something about themselves, to it definitely working. Or if you’re interested in Devi’s relationship with either Ben or Paxton in particular, I’d love any sort of high school tropes you’d like to have fun with: road trip fic, playing spin the bottle or seven minutes in heaven, texts and chats and social media, or that heady, wonderful feeling you get when you’re kissing the boy you like. I really do like both Paxton and Ben on this show and enjoy both legs of this love triangle, so I’m excited to see where you take this.

The Folk of the Air - Holly Black Jude Duarte, Cardan Greenbriar

There’s such an intensity to their relationship - on Jude’s side, and especially on Cardan’s side - I would love to read so much more about these two. I’d absolutely love to read more about their wedding night in particular: they got married, they are husband and wife now, and it happens so suddenly. It seems like they’d have so much to talk about, and a lot of heady feelings about belonging to another person that might bubble up in intense, possessive, strange sorts of ways - and that Cardan in particular must have been extremely pleased and triumphant that Jude accepted his proposal. Or I’d love to read more about them making out/sleeping together while still hating each other (late first book/earlier second book-era), and it just keeps happening and they’re each other’s greatest allies but they also still don’t trust each other yet. Or what if they come to an arrangement where they decide that Jude will start sleeping in Cardan’s room to protect him from random assassination and seduction attempts in the middle of the night, post-Nicasia’s failed crossbow attempt? Or, I’d love to read more of Cardan corresponding with Jude while she’s in exile (and her actually receiving any letters he writes) - both of them working through their feelings and situation via letters and having what I can only assume is the equivalent of a horribly torrid already-married affair with words and lots of complicated emotions.

The Hating Game - Sally Thorne Joshua Templeman, Lucy Hutton

One of my favs - I just love this book. I love the weird, specific ways that Josh and Lucy seem to be made for each other, their argumentative/flirty relationship, and the depth behind the ways that both of them act. I’d particularly love a canon-divergent AU exploring their relationship early on: for example, what if they’d moved in together at some point prior to the events of the book, for whatever reason, and they ended up in an oh-my-god-they-were-roommates type of situation? Or what about that time Lucy jokingly/weirdly offered to be Josh’s slave for a day - what if Josh had actually taken Lucy up on that? Or what if the games Lucy and Josh play had turned sexual early on in their relationship, before real feelings they were actually ready to admit got involved - the dares, the power games, the HR-rules-breaking at work - what would that look like? I’d also love to read a story set post-canon that touches on them continuing their games after getting together: role playing, pretending to be strangers at a bar, or some sort of situation where they’re still trying to pull one over on the other person even after they’re together and happy.

#yuletide 2020 #yuletide #never have i ever #the hating game #the folk of the air #the agency

5 notes · View notes

lilyginnyblackv2 · 5 years ago

Text

Just some thoughts on the Paopu Fruit and the Idea of Soulmates/Eternal Bonds

You know what I would love for KH to explore in a future game or two - the dangers of the soulmate concept/paopu fruit. I say this as someone who has liked fanart that has depicted characters sharing the fruit, because I do like the imagery of it all. So this has nothing to really do with shipping preferences really, but rather my own general dislike of things like soulmates, eternal bonds, and etc.

When I was a teen, I really loved the idea of soulmates or tropes like claiming in fanfics and such, but now that I’m older I really feel a major “YIKES!” when it comes to these ideas and tropes. They usually play into really possessive ideas such as ”belonging” to someone, not feeling whole without someone, and/or possibly not being able to break a bond with someone.

A lot of times media romanticizes the “for better or for worse” concept when it comes to romantic couples and the soulmate/eternal bond idea/trope takes that to another level. Staying with someone for better or worse isn’t always the healthiest option and people being fed this idea of soulmates existing - of there being one person out there that is perfect and just right - can be rather damaging as well (it can make people try and force toxic/unhealthy relationships to “work”).

Often times these tropes of eternal bonds and such lock the characters into a relationship, which just isn’t a realistic or healthy mindset to have. People grow and change, sometimes relationships fall apart because of that and people leave those relationships because they don’t have the same sort of bond/connection that they once had, and that’s okay. Sometimes people leave relationships because the bond has grown toxic - sour - dangerous. And to have the option to leave such a relationship is such a safety net.

But something like an eternal bond - something like the paopu fruit? You are bond to that person for forever - no matter what. And that’s...actually pretty creepy and scary. It forces both people to stay in a sort of unchanging relationship dynamic in a way, and likely an extremely codependent relationship (I’m not a fan of codependent relationships being romanticized either - partners depending on each other? Absolutely! Codependency? No, thank you). And, as far as we know, there is no way to undo the eternal bond that forms when you share a paopu fruit.

You’ll always have it.

That can be a good thing in some ways, we are shown how in KH3 and through what has been implied about the possible contents of the next game or so - but I feel this is such a fine line to walk too. Especially because while it is something that Sora and Kairi’s characters both, at one point or another in the series, expressed a desire to partake in/do...It’s also something that we never really see them talk about. When Sora and Kairi share the paopu fruit in KH3, Sora actually looks a bit hesitant and I feel the scene has a sort of urgency to it due to the circumstances. That, in that particular moment, it was done more out of a safety precaution/fear than out of a “we both thought long and hard about this and actually sat down and talked all our fears and insecurities out before deciding to make this big decision and act.” And that...has me worried.

But, at the same time, I feel like this could open up the series to actually talk and explore the danger and pain that could come out of an eternal bond like the one we see Sora and Kairi kind of recklessly making, in a way. I don’t think their bond with each other will be harmful (in the sense of abusive or anything like that - like absolutely no), but I do wonder if Kairi or Sora may think about the consequences of their eternal bond now with Sora gone. I want to see the series actually explore their pain and feelings about being apart, and in a more authentic way. I don’t want just surface level stuff, I want more of a deeper exploration - kinda like what we got with Sora and Riku in the RoD - where they talked about their past jealousy of each other and such. Will the pain be unbearable? Will either of them regret it? Or will this bond just be used as a tool by Nomura to forward plot moments and nothing else?

#KH #Kingdom Hearts #KH3 #Kingdom Hearts 3 #paopu fruit

19 notes · View notes

mbti-notes · 5 years ago

Note

(1/8) Yayy, I love Fleabag and I love your blog and everything you write, so I hope you're up for a discussion of your typings (and I hope all the asks come through). Agree about Fleabag, the Godmother and Harry's (his frequent breakups with Fleabag seemed INFJ door slams, but his endgame points to Si) typings. Boo and Fleabag seemed to have been the sort of BFFs who matched because their personalities were quite similar... What made you conclude ESFP rather than ENFP? Same goes for Martin...

Boo’s interests are all concrete, her thinking is always immediate and short-term, Ni grip was apparent in her hasty death.

Same goes for Martin. While I see signs of tertiary Fe in his deliberate manipulation of Claire and pleasure at bringing Fleabag down, and also the overall recklessness of unhealthy EPs, I couldn’t be sure whether he was Se or Ne dom.

I see no evidence of dominant Ne nor inferior Si but many vulgarities and desires that are indicative of unhealthy Se.

What about the Bank Manager? My memory of series one is fuzzy, but he makes an effort to work things out with Fleabag (and women in general) even if he judges too quickly, which could point at aux/tert Te-Fi, I guess.

He is honest and straightforward, no pretension, but severely limited in his perspective. His moral reasoning ability is rather rudimentary, which makes F unlikely. His life is in a deep rut and he is drawn to Fleabag because she is his opposite and helps spark his lower function development. She comes to symbolize the key to understanding his failures and frustrations (both in terms of how he treats women and his lack of function development), therefore, helping her succeed is also helping himself find his own way. He’s reconciling who he is by reckoning with his past mistakes through Fleabag.

The Father clearly struggles with expressing his feelings. He wants to communicate better with Fleabag, but he understands and prefers Claire (a T), so probably IxTx, perhaps Ti-Fe if we consider the main issues presented in the story plus the fact that he quickly fell for Godmother, a Fe dom? I’d like to know your reasoning for him. Anyway, I’d typed Claire and the Priest as ISTJ and ENFJ respectively, and these ones I was sure to have gotten right. xSTJ was clear for Claire, and episode 203 was the one that cemented her as ISTJ for me. She is constantly anxious and full of routines and rituals and micromanages everything, from actions to looks to even jokes, implying a lot of overthinking (I); she clashes with Fleabag because she’s insecure about the possibility of not being as interesting and funny as Fleabag (tertiary Fi). Also, she tries to pretend that she enjoyed the night, that her marriage is going well and that she thinks Fleabag kissed Martin rather than the opposite because of Si’s need to maintain security and stability and not lose what she’s conquered. By accepting her individuality, her feelings and the possibility of something better for herself, she takes action to improve her life, which implied much needed extraverted development. Also, most ESTJs I’ve met, despite being control freaks privately, are more adaptable and relaxed as well, especially in public (higher Te-Ne).

The show centers around Fleabag’s dysfunction. In Si grip, Fleabag tries to pinpoint Boo’s death (and her own hand in causing it) as the “point of origin” but her problems go far deeper than that, all the way back to her family relationships. Everyone in the family is equally messed up despite appearances. The show doesn’t go very far into the historical causes of their collective dysfunction, but it does a good job of illustrating the dysfunctional patterns as they exist in the present. The characters are largely products of old family patterns, therefore, it’s hard to understand each member individually without the context of their collective family dynamic.

A very common family dynamic involves projecting all of the family’s history of dysfunction onto the “weakest link”, aka, the black sheep. The black sheep is usually “chosen” according to their so-called inferiority for failing to live up to the family’s unspoken values, then they are routinely criticized and shamed for being something that is perceived as contrary to the family’s survival and well-being. Over time, this dynamic places an unspoken duty/expectation onto the black sheep, namely that they should always be “the one that ruins everything” whenever the family requires a scapegoat to deflect responsibility for dysfunctional behavior. Fleabag is obviously the black sheep, so everyone uses her as the punchline (for easing tension), the punching bag (for displacing their frustration), and the punch down (for a cheap win during power struggles).

As a defense mechanism, Fleabag believes that she is actually the superior member of the family because she’s “clever” enough to see through people’s fakery or hypocrisy. Despite the concrete proof of her own life being a total mess, she likes to think of herself as being more self-aware than others, i.e., she implicitly blames her life failures on the fact that she can’t fake it or lie to herself like everyone else. However, she doesn’t realize that playing the black sheep role is her form of self-deception. She is deeply caught up in a logical contradiction of knowing she is less than but also believing herself better than, and we see this over and over again in her asides to the audience. By exercising crude power in exposing other people’s fakery, she doesn’t have to look at her own and expose herself, and this plays perfectly into the family pattern that always ends up ricocheting back onto her. Whenever she exposes anything resembling the truth of the family’s dysfunction, regardless of whether she does it kindly or maliciously, she is roundly blamed for “acting out”, being “cruel”, “screwing up”, “ruining everything”, etc etc. The family immediately comes together to activate the scapegoating pattern and, in the end, nothing changes and the pattern repeats the next time they get together. Her twisted way of “caring” for her family is to play the black sheep, and their twisted way of “bonding” is to collectively reinforce their status as not the black sheep.

When people treat you like a black sheep long enough, you believe it and it becomes your identity, and playing this role so well leads her to blow up all of her relationships outside of the family. In accumulating many failed relationships, it’s very easy to slide into settling for less or settling for what you think you deserve, and she has been trained over a lifetime to feel less than deserving. As a defense mechanism, she’s romantically attracted to people who aren’t capable of knowing who she really is, which in turn gives her justification for blowing up each relationship as they are always shallow and meaningless anyway. But this automatic and destructive pattern hits rock bottom when she destroys the only person who’s managed to really know her. She then gradually becomes more aware that she’s repeating unconscious conditioning and could perhaps choose otherwise, but ingrained patterns are hard to change without help and guidance, which eventually invites the influence of the priest.

You might think that their father bears the brunt of the blame for the family being so dysfunctional, but he has plenty of his own unresolved issues that make him more like a child than a parent. The show does not offer any explanation for him but everyone has a history. It seems that he has always been emotionally absent and socially inept in that he allowed their mother to do all of the parenting and caregiving. He is not aggressive, obsessive, or controlling as you would expect for unhealthy TJs, rather, he is detached, distant, avoidant, and indifferent. When you talk to him face-to-face, there is some natural warmth there, but once you are out of his sight, you are out of his mind. You know that he loves you in his way, you know that he tries to empathize, but you also know that he utterly fails to understand anything about you no matter how hard either side tries to bridge the gap. It’s hard to fault him for what is clearly a “disability”? Because of his ineptitude, he traps himself in a codependent relationship with his shadow opposite type, a narcissistic person who calls all the shots in the relationship so that he never has to lift a finger, i.e., he never ever has to bear moral responsibility for anything, and taken to an absurd conclusion, he lives in a pitiful state of learned helplessness. You never have to feel bad if you never do anything, right? Wrong, he is still guilty of sins of omission, and for that he’s never able to truly be at ease no matter what he does to shed away every difficulty. Ideally, a good stepmom takes care of the step-kids, but he was not lucky enough to snag one, so he must accede to the bad stepmom’s judgment or else, heaven forbid, he loses his easy life by having to take responsibility for the girls on his own.

Unhealthy TPs need uptight Js to help them keep life in order, but they often prefer Ps for their amusing company. The father does not “prefer” Claire for what/who she is, rather, he merely appreciates that she doesn’t make any trouble for him, which he wants to believe absolves him of blame. He can say, “See, I have one good daughter, so it’s not my fault that the other one is bad”. There are many parallels between Claire and her father in how they approach relationships very passively and helplessly. Deep down, his heart actually prefers Fleabag for the fact that she more closely resembles her mother and the fact that she is braver than him and challenges him (to be better). He wishes to have a better relationship with her, similar to what he must’ve had with her mother, but he’s unfortunately incapable of containing the dysfunction that bad parenting and unresolved grief has wrought upon her.

You say that Claire should be more flexible if tertiary Ne, but why would you expect her to have any healthy functions? She clearly suffers inferior grip quite often and thus cannot use any of her functions optimally. Every SJ with unhealthy Si-Ne uses micromanagement of routines/rituals as a crutch, so this is true for both dominant and auxiliary Si - your claim here only proves SJ. She’s just as fucked up as Fleabag is, only she is better at repressing her feelings, and for this alone, ISTJ is very unlikely. ISTJs are introverts and they prefer to give up and be at peace rather than double and triple down on stupid behavior in the manner that Claire often does. Her main problem in life is that everything she does to “manage” situations results in her betraying herself in some way, which is strongly indicative of infantile Fi. I disagree that stubbornness is her fatal flaw ala Si-Fi loop; if that were the case, she’d be more than happy to give up everything to Fi loop and disappear into the background. She would also never ever go near Fleabag nor trust her with anything due to the fact that she has already encountered countless past experiences of Fleabag blowing up situations in awful and unpredictable ways. ISTJs are at their least forgiving and never forget whenever it comes to delegating important tasks.

I argue that what gets Claire truly upset is not being unprepared for “all negative possibilities in the abstract” but rather the possibility of LOSING FACE, i.e., being publicly humiliated and exposed as the uncool simpering hypocrite that she is, which is indicative of deep-seated fear of Fi (she envies Fleabag for her “cool” factor for this reason). Unhealthy Te doms, falling apart internally, are still capable of maintaining functionality in external life far longer than other types. She suffers from serious grip problems but still manages to perform her duties at home and at work, which simply wouldn’t be possible for Ne grip. With Fi grip, she instantly switches to very ugly self-pity and irrationally self-protective behavior when threatened by anything. Her instinct upon feeling the vulnerability of exposure is to go on and on and on about how “successful” she is, which usually includes a few rounds of punching down at everyone in an attempt to disown her bad decision making. ISTJs are rarely capable of bullshitting themselves to that extreme; they are more likely to react with humility and even resignation when presented with incontrovertible proof of their failures (see: Bank Manager).

Claire was probably expected to be “the responsible one” (aka elder/caregiver sibling archetype) because there was no one else to take responsibility. However, at this point in her life, she has achieved enough career success to be independent from the family. The fact that she can’t help herself from enacting her old role speaks to the lack of self-insight that is characteristic of inferior Fi, i.e., as much as she complains about hating the pressures and headaches of being “the responsible one”, she unconsciously LOVES it because it grants her a superior position in the family. She’s not willing to give up the pain because she’s not willing to give up the payoff, and this internal love-hate contradiction is what makes her relationship with Fleabag dysfunctional despite the love and affection they have for each other. I don’t think ISTJs are able to bear such obvious internal contradiction and still manage to claim integrity. ISTJs find it much more painful, if not impossible, to pretend and posture for the sake of appearances, because they are supremely stubborn people when it comes to preserving their subjective sense of integrity. By contrast, inferior Fi makes it very easy to ignore subjective integrity and choose destructive methods of obtaining feelings of power and superiority, hence she ends up betraying her own well-being all the time.

As for the Priest, we both agree on him being a Fe dom. What made me choose Ni rather than Si is that he admitted to have been quite a different person in the past by alluding to his many sexual experiences, probably a hint of Se as well. But then he met God and everything took a 180 for him (N, not S), implying that he was uncomfortably adrift for a while and needed a sense of meaning and a clear vision of his path ahead to feel whole (Ni). Also, PWB has said that Fleabag was drawn to the Priest because he has an established sense of purpose, which she’s been looking for, which highlights their P vs J and Ne vs Ni differences. You could argue that he was drawn to her because of tertiary Ne, but I don’t see signs of Si’s typical grounded outlook (he uses a lot of abstractions to explain his ideas) or typical adherence to traditions (the path to his faith wasn’t primarily through this motivation as it happens to many) or typical narrow-mindedness (quite the opposite, he used to be quite open to experiences due to Fe+Se). Oh, and I forgot to mention, the Priest can read and understand Fleabag so well that he even gets to enter her internal world and listen to her personal thoughts. To be able to understand people with this level of depth is, of course, more natural for xNFJs rather than xSFJs, who help people on a more practical level (Fe+Ni v Fe+Si).

I think your understanding of Si is still quite stereotypical. ESFJs have a common pattern of using Ne to “find themselves” only to end up lost because what they’re really doing is Ne loop. ESFJs tend to grow up feeling very pressured to be rule abiders and it is common for them to go through a rebellious stage a bit later in life compared to other types, once the pressure finally reaches a breaking point. After swinging from the painful oppression of “rule observant” behavior in youth to the painful failures of “rule breaking” behavior in young adulthood, they eventually boomerang back to old touchstones, i.e., they ground themselves by rediscovering comfort in the known. IIRC, the priest felt lost and eventually revisited religion for guidance, he made the beliefs his own rather than blindly following dogma, and he chose to commit his life to doing good because HE genuinely wanted to, not because family/society told him to. A healthy ESFJ establishes a stronger sense of self once they reconcile with the past and make “rule following” more palatable by turning it into a personal choice (rather than feeling obligated to constantly self-sacrifice). I disagree that he “transformed” from one person into a completely different one, I think it’s more accurate to say that he had no idea who he was and got increasingly lost until he discovered himself by looking backward and making sense of his past experience.

Religion is an abstract concept, there’s no avoiding abstract discussions about religious beliefs when you’re debating a non-believer, especially when that non-believer is Ne dom. Ne is tertiary and people often use tertiary functions for relief, therefore, ESFJs tend to enjoy abstract discussions, especially of the Ne variety that is full of humor and playfulness, exactly like the kind that he gets with Fleabag. I dare you to try joking around with a “true believer” ENFJ. Their beliefs are deadly serious to them, so they show far less patience for sacrilegious play (unless, for some reason, they have developed an irrational fear of being criticized as dogmatic and pretend to be open-minded). Also, why would an *N*FJ be shocked and alarmed or seem resistant to using intuition to “read” people? Why would their intuition seem so painfully accidental? NFJs generally LIKE using intuition and do it naturally as part of who they are, they embrace it and feel more confident the more they are in touch with it.

Ns tend to speak in abstractions but not everyone who speaks in abstractions is N, similarly, every NJ needs a sense of purpose but not everyone who seeks a purpose is NJ -> beware this logical fallacy: “every cat has four legs but not every four-legged creature is a cat”. NJs need a purpose for materializing their personal potential, SJs seek a purpose for the sake of grounding themselves in something unshakable within - you point out the behavior without grasping the true motivation. When ESFJs develop Si well, they recognize that what makes them happy is to be of service, to be a positive contributor to their community, to be a reliable source of help and comfort to those in need. He is not a charismatic and boastful preacher of the ENFJ sort, rather, he sees himself as a humble servant who uses reliable traditional beliefs to help ground people who feel lost in hectic modern life, using his own past experience as the starting point. The fact that he has the strength to end the relationship with Fleabag before it becomes negative and destructive is a testament to Si steadfastness and how strongly the rules matter to him (Ns are very masterful at rationalizing that the rules don’t apply to them, and that’s often how they end up in bad places). Why would you expect him to display all sorts of negative signs of Si if he is meant to be the positive moral guidance for the show? And wouldn’t it make sense for him to use his well-developed Si to reveal to Fleabag the true extent of her dysfunctional Si? Would an ENFJ instinctively know better than an ESFJ how to remedy Si specific identity dysfunction?

Can you please allow us to submit things to you? In the case of long asks like mine, it helps to avoid any part not getting sent.

I have considered this before but I’m not sure I want to do that.

#fleabag #fiction #fictional depictions #enfp #estj #esfj #ask

26 notes · View notes

aizenat · 5 years ago

Note

So in honor of the Fruits Basket reboot who would you say are your fave Furuba characters and ships (canon) and why? Least fave Furuba characters and canon ships and why?

Oh hi nonny! This is fun! I meant to reply earlier, but I know this is going to get in depth so I wanted to be on my computer when I replied. Also, this is going to have major Furuba spoilers (duh).

I’ll start with the least favorites to get the negatives out of the way. My least fave characters are hard because I tend to love more than hate characters in this series. However...

I didn’t really like Motoko or any of the Prince Yuki fanclub girls. I had a much better appreciation for her after that graduation scene; I’m glad she didn’t confess to Yuki and instead just thanked him for helping make her high school experience fun. When you think of that, how she had a group of friends who all shared this adoration for him, and how much fun she had, it is sweet.

BUT the fucking fangirls really helped create a culture in their school where people couldn’t get close to Yuki even if they wanted to! And seeing how much that hurt Yuki, despite their intentions, it irks me. It was only once there were people like Manabe and Kimi who didn’t give a fuck about the fangirls (Kimi’s handling of the fangirls was just so wonderfully delicious for this very reason) that Yuki was finally able to have a fun high school experience and let loose a bit. It’s not all Motoko’s and the fangirls’ fault; Yuki had his own demons to fight through. But you can’t deny that if everyone knows that there is a legit fanclub with strict rules on how anyone, especially girls, are allowed to communicate with him, they’re not going to think they can joke around and goof off with him.

Interestingly enough, I think her daughter makes up for her. Her daughter’s love of the Sohmas is so much funnier, non-obtrusive, and more respectful than Motoko’s was.

This might be unpopular or surprising, but I really dislike Shigure. Aside from him being a disgusting lech (that scene with him going the high school talking about seeing high school girls is sick. And as someone who is 27 going on 28 my own damn self, I would protect high school girls from perverts like him until my dying breath), I just find his motivations and mindset fucked up. Like, he was fucked when he decided Akito was the love of his life, but the things he does just to get a reaction from her is annoying as BALLS. Idk if we ever got a definite number for how old Akito is, but she’s still much younger than Shigure. And doing shit like SLEEPING WITH HER MOTHER out of spite when you know Akito is just one wind blow away from losing her fucking shit is just so gross. He’s too grown to be doing dumb shit like that, and I have zero respect for him.

Also, on a side note, I don’t really like Kureno either. Not like he did anything in particular (except get with Arisa, which I don’t like at all), but I find him boring as dirt. The only interesting thing about him is that he’s the first one who’s curse broke. Cool. So why are you here? He’s not much of a character; he’s just there to show that the curse IS breaking, and then to cause tension between Akito and Shigure. All while being dull and annoying. Boy, bye.

Least favorite “ships” is funny because I actually dislike more couples than I like. But among my least favorite are:

I think I lowkey read Arisa as a lesbian as a kid, and it was really annoying that Takaya-sensei decided to force her into a relationship. Especially because I just wasn’t sold on her and Kureno. Kureno is nothing like Tohru for her to be doing that “Oh, he’s like Tohru” thing. He did one thing she would do, boo hoo. I can’t imagine Tohru also doing what he did with Akito (ie, not leaving/not establishing boundaries), so there’s that. Also, the, like, 9 year or whatever age difference is a hard no. Arisa had so much potential and personality and whatnot than to become that fuckboy’s housewife. ALSO, that line when she says she wants to hit like 6 feet or something, and Kyo asks if she wants to be a model or something, I couldn’t help but think “oooh, she should be a model!” Imagine Arisa as a model! That’s what she should have been; not Kureno’s girlfriend. UGH!

No matter how many times I read it, I can’t get over Katsuya and Kyoko’s age difference. I mean, at least Arisa is in high school and been through some shit to mature her where you can KINDA be okay with her and Kureno (except me, who hates it 100%). But Kyoko was IN MIDDLE SCHOOL. Like, how you a grown man falling for a MIDDLE SCHOOL STUDENT. The fuck? The hell? Jesus did not die on the cross for this. Even taking into consideration culture and the time period, it’s 10000000000% NOT okay. NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO. Even when I was the same age as Kyoko myself reading this (like 15ish), I had a HUGE issue when I learned about that age gap. It’s gross. It’s predatory. And when he’s even called out on it by Kyoko, he laughs it off.

His personality was cute, but I don’t know why they couldn’t wait. Like, even if they did something where they met when she was in middle school, and then maybe ten years later, while Kyoko was reforming her delinquent ways, she finds Katsuya again and reconnects with him, fine. But really?

I respect it only because they made Tohru and she’s a gem, and he died long before the story began, so it is what it is. But ew, hell no.

The last couple I don’t really like, and this is really unpopular, is Haru and Rin. I know most people who read this love them, but I always found their relationship to be too codependent and unhealthy. Rin isn’t my favorite character, but considering her history, I can’t be too mad at her. Not to mention she reacts the way you would expect a high school girl going through what she did to behave. I was friends with angry girls like her in high school; I get it. I also saw those same girls get into unhealthy codependent relationships with guys and are still struggling today. I like Haru a lot, and I’m sure he and Rin could be sweet. I love how protective he is of her. But Haru just wasn’t right for Rin when they were going through the breakup and then getting back together thing. The things they said to each other were just off putting to me. Once things calmed down, they were fine, but I found it hard to root for them because of what a weird introduction we got to them as a couple.

Now on to the positives. My favorite characters. This is going to be conventional, buuuuuut...

Tohru, obviously. Only losers who fell off Fruits Basket don’t love Tohru. She’s very awe inspiring honestly with her attitude. You read her reactions and think how you want to be that sort of person. You want the be the person someone looks at and thinks of as home. You want to be the sort of person who is encouraging and positive and happy. You want to be someone full of light.

I do have critiques of her being a “perfect mother” character, and how she finds herself mothering a bunch of guys (like, literally taking care of three males cooking and cleaning for them. Gross). There is something to be said about whether Tohru would work as a character if she had real goals other than “get a job and support myself.” If she had goals like wanting to go away to college and get a career. Like, imagine Tohru as a therapist. She’d be able to help so many people. But no, her humble Japanese heart wouldn’t allow her to go for some sort of passion that grandiose. Like, we live in a modern day where it’s GOOD for girls to have passions, so it’s kinda off putting that her only passion is homemaking and nurturing those around her.

BUT, she’s still so sweet and kind and makes you want to be a better person! lol.

What’s funny about Flying Pot-kun is that when he was introduced, I remember thinking “he reminds me of someone.” And I was racking my brain of people I knew irl, wondering who he reminded me of. Then Yuki starts going “he reminds me of someone,” and I was like “What? Yuki too?” And when Yuki thought of his brother, I started DYING laughing! It’s ironic that Yuki’s best friend ends up being a younger version of his brother who irritates him.

Manabe is really fun, but I really love his relationship with Yuki. I like when they fight, when they talk. But what really impressed me is the scene with Komaki, where she tells him off about what he said to Tohru at her mother’s wake. And how instead of getting defensive (”what? I was only looking out for you!”), he realized that he fucked up. I wish he would have apologized to Tohru earlier, even if she didn’t remember him until a while later, but he’s a guy so I don’t expect much from them (whoops, my misandry was showing).

Still, Manabe reminds me of my guy friends from hs, and how fun and stupid and silly they were. I could see him hanging out with them, getting in trouble with them, so I like him lol.

My #1 favorite character has to be Yuki. What’s hilarious is that when I first read Fruits Basket through (so, as a teen, reading all the volumes as they came out during the Tokyopop run), I HATED Yuki. I thought he was a dick to Kyo unnecessarily. There’s that one moment right after the “True Form Reveal” I believe where Kyo is visibly trying to not snap at Yuki the way he normally does. But then Yuki provokes him and causes Kyo to yell at him. As the oppressed older sister of a favored younger brother, I know first hand how it feels to be provoked to anger by someone who knows how to push your buttons. And so I likened Yuki to my brother and hated him for that. It felt like to me that every time Kyo wanted to move on, Yuki was there to put him down.

Then I reread Fruits Basket when I was 19 and realized “Holy shit, Yuki is a male version of me.” Not 100% obviously, but his self loathing and the way he isolated himself even after no longer being under the direct control of his family was something I could relate to. I realized that I disliked Yuki because I saw in him all the flaws I disliked in myself: hating him was easy because I was hating these parts of myself.

When I understood that, I related to his story more, and he’s always my favorite character now. I especially love once he becomes student body president. All of the scenes with him and the rest of his student council members are gold. Kimi and her stupid flirting, Manabe going off track, Chibi-suke’s play at maturity while everyone else goofs off, and Machi’s quiet and awkward energy leads to some amazing moments. Seeing Yuki interact with them in a way he never lets himself behave with his family is great; and we get to see a side of him you know his classmates rarely see too. You watch his confidence grow and it just makes my heart glow. I’m smiling while I’m typing this lol.

Favorite couples? Tbqh, there’s only two I really love and respect, and they’re the obvious two. All others can fall apart tomorrow and I’d feel NOTHING. But these two were endgame and perfect.

Tohru and Kyo. God, the first time I read this series, when I realized that it was setting those two up, I wanted to DIE from happiness. Kyo was my BOY first time around, and he could do no wrong. So to know he “won” over Yuki and got the girl made me so happy. Rereading it, I always find Tohru and Kyo so adorably compatible. Tohru is very good at reading his love language, and seeing his deeper meaning. I remember someone mentioned that Yuki, in the beginning, still kept a lid on his feelings, making it hard for Tohru to 100% connect to him. And that Kyo was always so explosive with his feelings; even if it’s awkward and not 100% how he feels, Kyo still expresses how he feels as he’s feeling them.

I think that’s why when she confesses to him, she takes his rejection as REAL rejection. Because Kyo is always the honest one, the one she rarely has to question how he feels. Kyo is always honest. I thought that was a good assessment, and a good reason why they work.

Not only is Tohru’s love for Kyo healing for him, but her love for Kyo is healing for Tohru. Being able to move forward and create a future with him allows her to move on from her past. Through loving Kyo, and working on breaking the curse so she can free him and be with him, can she move past her mother’s death. Imagine if she just graduated, got a job, and lived on her own after high school. She’d be alone. And left with remembering her mother all the time. It would have broken her. Loving Kyo meant she had to be willing to let her mother go a bit. Move on and live despite her mother not being around. And after Kyo stopped being a dumbass, that’s what his love was for her. It freed her. Not as a distraction, but as a way for her to heal from it.

They were really made for each other.

Despite my love for Tohru and Kyo, Yuki and Machi are just my absolutely FAVORITE. Their dynamic together is so interesting. Yuki is so used to people putting him on a pedestal that he’s intrigued by someone who’s like “he’s not a prince; he’s just an average guy.” And when he starts giving her attention, Machi, who is used to being ignored and overlooked, is flabbergasted. Not only that, but he UNDERSTANDS her without her having to say anything. And what’s funny is that that is how Yuki is. He doesn’t express his feelings the way Kyo does; he holds a lot in. His feelings might manifest in small ways, but it’s hard for others to read it.

Because it’s how he is, Yuki is able to read deeper into Machi’s actions. He hears a story from Manabe about her walking in the snow, just making footprints, and then sees that she destroys clean and organized rooms and spaces. He puts two and two together: she hates when things are “perfect” and orderly. So she has to “ruin” them. And just like that, he gets it. Like, imagine what they’re house has to be like with Yuki being bad at cleaning and Machi just HATING a messy home! And considering how their son almost brags about his messy habits in Fruits Basket: Another, jfc, it’s gotta be bad!

I think that’s why Yuki and Machi are so cute to me: they also compliment each other. They can observe each other and see deeper than what others see. Machi didn’t just see his perfect persona at school: she saw beneath that. She remarks that he seems lonely, and he is. He sees her actions and realizes the truth. They think of each other and then do things based on that. Yuki sees her clutching a Mogeta when she meets his brother and realizes she must like him. Then sees another Mogeta while out and buys it for her just like that. Machi asks Yuki what he wants and when he says fertilizer like a dumbass not realizing her intent, she goes out to get it for him (carrying fertilizer by herself couldn’t have been easy).

They see each other. And that’s what’s so beautiful. In a world where they both, for one reason or another, are so easily forgotten and overlooked, they see each other. They found each other. They get each other. FUCKING CHRIST IT’S TOO BEAUTIFUL TO THINK ABOUT.

Also, some honorable mentions of couples I actually liked: Komaki and Manabe (I hope she beats his ass every time he calls her his meat angel lol), Ayame and Mine (I wish we saw more from them; then maybe I’d like them enough to wax poetry over them), and Hatori and the Great Mayu-chan-sensei (god, those two!!!!! Wonderful!!!!!).

Thanks, nonny, this was fun!

#god so many spoilers lol #fruits basket #furuba #furuba spoilers #fruits basket spoilers #too many characters to tag #so here we go #Anonymous

28 notes · View notes

ryuutchi · 5 years ago

Photo

Dearest Yulegoat [Mirrored Yuletide Letter]

[General]

To start with, if you're writing fic for me, I love you. I'm going to be happy just to be able to share my fandom love with someone. You'll notice I throw a lot of ideas out-- feel free to take one, take many, take none. I know how hard it can be to settle on an idea once the assignments come in. So I'm offering a bunch of options that I will enjoy. None of these suggestions are hard and fast requirements. They're here to give you an idea of what's going on in my head and what my preferences look like. My current blog is ryuutchi, over on Tumblr. I can't promise it will be helpful, but in the interest of helping with the stalking process, feel free to check me out over there. I like: Plot, adventures, banter and dry humor, happy endings, over the top AUs (steampunk, noir, organized crime, rum-runners, harems...), casual physical intimacy, emotional interdependency, bad decisions and poor coping mechanisms, hurt/comfort and whump-with-comfort, loyalty and morality confusion, worldbuilding, identity porn, questionable healthy attachments, seeking out physical affection, accidentally caught feelings, power-play, porn, gen, slash, femslash, het, any rating you feel comfortable with (for violence and/or sex), bittersweet things that are heavy on the sweet, Happily Ever After/Happily For Now endings I don't like: Deathfic, gratuitous angst, character-bashing, introspective character pieces, five times fics, mommy/daddy kink, A/B/O universes, contemporary social issues as the main focus/issuefic, sad or hopeless endings. (Also the standard DNWs: scat, watersports, necro, mpreg, homophobia, transphobia, etc) No Game No Life - Kamiya Yuu: Sora, Shiro The Series: They are both NEETs and Hikikomoris… but on the internet, the genius gamer siblings Sora and Shiro are known as the undefeatable “__” (blank). Sora and Shiro’s talents and skills are so abnormally good they are considered as urban legend. One day, they are challenged by the god of games to chess and are victorious. As a result, the god summons them to Disboard, a reality which revolves around games. Intent on maintaining their reputation as the undefeated gamers, Sora and Shiro plan to conquer the sixteen ruling species and to usurp the god of games... NGNL is a series of light novels, of which 6 have been translated (PDFs can be found here, or bought legally at any online bookstore). The No Game No Life anime can be found on Crunchyroll here. Request: The fact that Shiro and Sora literally cannot be separated from each other is one of the dynamics that I like about the series. I really enjoy codependent siblings as a Thing. So I would be happy if you played with that dynamic. Plotty gen for this series would be great-- it's always fun when one of them is much better than the other or they have to separate and execute plans while relying solely on the intuition of what their sibling will do. Alternately, someone kidnapping Sora and Shiro having to play a game to get him back while they both battle their inability to get anything done alone... I'd love background on them, where they tried to separate or were forced to separate and failed to function, or where one or the other tried to interact with other people (maybe a gamer who tracked them down) but were either terrible at it, the other one quietly sabotaged the budding relationship, or the third person got way too freaked out by the way Sora and Shiro act around each other. Future fic would also be great-- King/Queen Blank or even the Gods Blank, after they've beaten Tet. What does that look like? What kind of world are they making for themselves and each other? I ship them, but do not expect other people to, so if you want to write shippy fic (with aged up Shiro!!!) for them, I will be surprised but happy. I will happily admit to wanting kinky sex games. Extra Details: For reference, I've read through volume 8 of the light novel, watched the anime and the movie. I am not precious about spoilers for this series, so feel free to use later information. I know this series isn't everyone's cup of tea, with the sheer amount of fanservice and Sora's utterly otaku personality and the pseudo-incest thing with the 12 year old. Personally, as is probably obvious from the request, I'm less interested in the fanservicey characters, and much more about the dynamics of Shiro and Sora's relationship. I love the way they know exactly what the other is capable of and trust each other completely and whole-heartedly. Whether you write something small and domestic or big and plotty, for me the core of NGNL is that they love, care and respect each other in a way that is beautiful but also extremely unhealthy. If you want to go the shippy route, again, Shiro needs to be aged up appropriately-- it's always been interesting to me that Sora understands that it is inappropriate to sexualize his underage adopted sister, while Shiro goes out of her way to help sexualize other women for Sora's entertainment. There's a part of me that wonders if she's planning ahead for when she is old enough to be an "appropriate" (in age, if nothing else) sexual partner and is trying to get Sora to lose his virginity ahead of time. selector infected WIXOSS: Aoi Akira, Igarashi Rumi | UlithThe Series: WIXOSS is a popular trading card game in which players battle against each other with fighters known as LRIGs, using cards to support them. Certain LRIGs are able to communicate with their owners, and the girls chosen to wield them are known as "Selectors". Selectors are given the chance to have any wish granted by winning battles against other Selectors, but should they lose three times, their wish will be reversed into a curse instead. The main series, selector infected WIXOSS, follows a girl named Ruko Kominato, who becomes a Selector after receiving an LRIG that she names Tama. As she and various other Selectors battle it out for the sake of their wish, Ruko finds herself drawn into the dark, sinister world of WIXOSS, discovering that, win or lose, there is always a price to pay. The anime can be found on Funimation here Request: So, you know how in my "general likes" I said I don't like "gratuitous angst"? In this fandom, there is no such thing as "gratuitous". Darkfic is absolutely welcome here. The thing I am most interested in here is the manipulative, awful relationship that Akira has with Ulith-as-Iona. Like, I love them all, and for some reason in this fandom, that comes out to "please break them". Exploring their adult lives and how their relationships and the Wixoss game affected them in the future would be amazing. What else happened to them? What are their careers like? What are their home lives like? Are they... living together? Does some sort of magic continue to be a theme in their lives? Feel free to write in-universe plot or no-powers universe, or some horrible Madoka or Yurikuma Arashi or other magical girl thing, where they can all be horribly manipulative lesbians together because that's magical and wonderful. OTOH, if you want to write codependent-but-vaguely-functional adult Akira and Iona/Ulith being horrible assholes and having adventures of some sort (magic, detectives, idk) that is ALSO A+. I mean, I like happy endings, and if you can come up with something heartwarming (or "heartwarming") I'm not going to complain. Extra Details: Evil lesbians are Problematic, I know. But Akira was one of my favorite characters from the word go and (if you're paying attention to my fandoms as a whole) I really really like codependent or unhealthy relationships. I love her love/hate relationship with Iona and with Ulith, and the way those two characters sort of get mixed up for Akira specifically. If you want to play with Iona and Ulith's personalities and interactions as well, that would also be pretty fun. I'm also down for other types of AUs, like they have to get their shit together and track down someone who is killing Selectors, or they become selectors as adults and not girls. I know they're young, but given that this is a super-fucking dark canon, I am totally cool with dubiously consensual sex either on or off-screen. FANDOM: Yoroiden Samurai Troopers | Ronin Warriors (Shuu Rei Fuan | Kento Rei Fang, Mouri Shin | Cye Mouri) The Series: Ronin Warriors, known in Japan as Yoroiden Samurai Troopers (lit. "Legendary Armor Samurai Troopers"), is a Japanese anime series and manga adaptation created by Hajime Yatate. It's the story of five teenage boys, given mystical armor to protect the world from the evil Arago. 1000 years ago, Arago nearly succeeded in taking over the human world when Kaosu managed to defeat him. Although Arago's soul is banished to the demon world, his armor is left intact. Kaosu divided the armor into nine separate armor suits. Each armor will choose its bearer, and together they will fight Arago. At least that was the original intent... Although Arago manages to corrupt four sets of the armor, the last five remain safe. It's a bit like Power Rangers, only grounded in more serious traditional Japanese cultural trappings. Being created in the 80s, the art style is a little wonky, but it's an enjoyable thriller and is somewhat more focused and serious than a lot of sentai shows. The anime can be found on Crunchyroll here Request: I love Shuu/Shin with Shin being snarktastic and Shuu being smug and solid and dependable. I used to frequent the Minkland archive back when this fandom still kinda existed, and was forever disappointed that the skinny pretty boys got tons and tons of fic and Shuu was just sort of there in the background. (If you used to read Mink and Jink's fic, I will be so happy I could cry if I got that sort of cracked-out porny fic with Shuu, okay. Due to that formative influence, if you want to GO FOR THE AU, GO FOR IT WITH GUSTO. I've always wanted nanshoku/samurai AU. Or, you know, hooker fic, or dark!troopers fic, or harem fic or something like that. I also like found-family fic, gen-ish mysteries and adventures-- more fighting Massive Cosmic Evil, and curtainfic. Futurefic is also awesome, where they get on with their lives, maybe together or maybe trying to keep their friendships intact when there's no massive Cosmic Evil to keep them close. Extra Details: If you used to read Mink and Jink's fic, I will be so happy I could cry if I got that sort of cracked-out porny, possibly AU fic with Shuu, okay Fics I especially enjoyed from that archive: The Grand One The Clit Club Chronicles The Harem Vinyl Wagashi Cherry Zima Threesome Theater of Magic Due to that formative influence, if you want to GO FOR THE AU, GO FOR IT WITH GUSTO. I've always wanted nanshoku/samurai AU (see this image). Or, you know, hooker fic, or dark!troopers fic, or harem fic or something like that. My usual ships are Shin/Shuu, Shin/Ryo, Touma/Seiji and Ryo/Nasuti. But I multiship and am willing to run with anything-- I'm a Sex With All Teammates sort of person, so fivesomes and alternate pairings are not a problem for me. Dragon Prince Trilogy - Melanie Rawn: Ianthe of Princemarch, Sioned of River Run The Series: To blatantly steal someone else's review on Amazon: "Melanie Rawn created a world and a people that gives everything you could possibly want in a fantasy world. It gives love, hate, peace, war, magic, royalty, commoners, children to take over the next generation and best of all; dragons." I want to say "if this wasn't the matched fandom you should go out and read them right the fuck now', because I have read these books So Many Times. They're high fantasy novels about politics and the prince of a desert and magical people who communicate via sunlight and can conjure fire. AND DRAGONS. Also a lot of interpersonal and romantic maneuverings. It's a high fantasy politics and romance romp of somewhere ~550 pages. If that sounds interesting to you, pretty much every used bookstore I have ever been to has at least one copy of these books. I think they spawn on bookshelves or something. The books are also available in ebook form here (Kindle) and here (Nook) for 3 bucks. Please read them. (TW for rape in the first book) The Request: I love everything this series chooses to be. It's fun and cheesy and fantasy, which the best thing in the world. I've always thought that Ianthe had a serious hate-crush on Sioned and part of the reason she was so vicious and fucked up was that whole "you must marry a guy and expand the empire or your useless" thing when maybe she didn't want to do that. Ianthe's always been one of my favorite characters because she's brilliant and ruthless and clearly takes joy in clever plans that go well. Of course, being the villain in a cheesy fantasy, she got no depth whatsoever, aside from that whole sexually liberated, taking male consorts thing (which is AWESOME, okay.) Sioned is also awesome and brilliant and kick ass. Her hesitance in the first book while she decided what she really wanted to do was pretty great, as was the fact that she promptly made friends with Tobin and pretty much every character not designated "villain". It seems like up through Ianthe's death, they're playing a game of brinkmanship. (Which isn't to say I don't like Sioned and Rohan together. They're bookTP and totally awesome.) As for prompts, I normally prefer plotty fic to introspection. I feel like the whole sunrunner thing lends itself well to espionage, so political thriller, or murder mysteries or something would be great. If you want to do plot-what-plot involving these two-- either sex or just the sort of dancing around/pigtail pulling that would be great. Threesomes with Rohan-- also acceptable! Hell, if you want to do an AU where they end up together instead of Sioned marrying Rohan-- or alternately, an AU end to the trilogy, where Ianthe never died in the fire and ends up taking over as High Princess and making the Desert monarchs' lives hell and discovering her powers. Or something where she knew about her powers all along. Or Sioned, I don't know, realizing she kind of did think Ianthe was attractive. I also really enjoy Pandsala, but I didn't find her dynamic with Sioned and Rohan quite as engaging, even though she also did some bad-ass stuff in the long run. Her weird push and pull backstabby, politicized sisterly thing was interesting, though. Extra Details: Okay, like I said, I think this series is the cheesiest fantasy series in the WORLD and in a lot of ways it's one of my first nostalgia fandoms. If you haven't read them, they are kind of ridiculously long (Like, GRR Martin-long), but they're quick reads despite that and rather less depressing than a lot of high fantasy. It's silly in the way that "adult fantasy" that takes itself way too seriously can be. A lot of the main protagonists actively enjoy each others' company and that's as much integral to the book as the politics and dragon-slaying. That said, I kinda asked for a semi-serious plotty story. But if you want to run with the "it's cheesy fantasy" and want to write about Ianthe rescuing princesses or Sioned running away to be a knight and abducting Ianthe away from her toxic father, or something silly, I say get down with your nerd self and run with it. I've only read parts of the second trilogy, and the second generation aren't really very interesting to me. If you want to write future-fic, I would prefer that it continues to focus on the original generation (no matter how much I love Andry, Pol just seems like kind of a jerk).

House of M - New X-Men: Academy X: Any The Series: I'm surprised it took me so long to nominate and request this fandom. I love New X-Men and was GUTTED when Decimation forced them into killing off so many of the characters. If you've never read it, New X-Men: Academy X was an X-Man title in the mid-00's, focusing on entirely new students at Xavier's Academy, being taught by the more established characters. Some of the New X-Men have managed to escape and become general Marvel characters in their own rights (David Alleyne, for example), but for the most part, they were just teenagers at school who rarely got caught up in larger plots. 616 New X-Men were about teenagers fighting, and coming to grips with the fact that they're being raised and taught to go sacrifice themselves for a Greater Goal. They're all wonderfully, horribly traumatized teenagers with powers. The plots were fleshed out and realistic, and when they weren't they were still interesting or fun. This request isn't technically for that. It's for the House of M megacrossover from 2009. Wanda Maximoff, mutant reality shifter and sometimes-crazy-lady, decided that mutants should run the world. SO THEY DID. And suddenly the lives of our young students become very different. Half of them after still "New Mutants", working towards peace, and the others are "Hellions", SHIELD trainees in a violently anti-homo-sapien state system. I've always felt that House of M as a narrative concept has been dismissed too easily by Marvel fans, because there are so many pieces of worldbuilding left unbuilt. I'm most interested in seeing it from the eyes of younger participants who are being trained or have been trained for their places. What does that world look like? New X-Men: Academy X can be found online here: https://viewcomics.me/comic/new-x-men-2004. The House of M crossover runs for issues 16-19. The Request: There's a lot here to play with because the authors never really got to play in either the Academy X OR the House of M sandboxes long enough to do all of their ideas justice. So I'm going to lay out some of the stuff I liked most about NXM in general and HoM in particular. The nom is for HoM, but I think HoM is most interesting in conversation with the standard 616 universe, alongside having the fun YA action stuff and the complicated interpersonal relationships. For example: in 616 Josh joined the Reavers and pretended not to be a mutant until he was confronted with Laurie nearly dying. I can imagine a bunch of different scenarios for House of M that would lead to where we see Josh and Laurie in the HoM comics (Laurie undercover with the New Mutants, and Josh working as an interrogator alongside Kevin). Laurie's introversion in 616 juxtaposed against her brazen treachery and clear control over her skills in HoM. HoM shows Kevin in a full decontamination suit, but we know in 616 that his ability is blocked by wearing synthetic fibers (I imagined this to be a interrogator scare tactic, but it could be any number of other things). Kevin and Josh's relationship in 616 is fraught, especially with Josh's previous experiences with anti-mutant activists and the fact that Kevin killed his father when his powers manifested. But they seemed to work together well in HoM. And speaking of Kevin-- how did his powers manifesting actually pan out in a universe where mutants aren't seen as a threat? I have to wonder whether there's some concept of "acceptable casualties" because some peoples' powers clearly manifest first in dangerous situations. Alternatively: Fluffy Josh/Kevin with a backdrop of torture, murder and state violence. I ship mostly Josh/Kevin because rivals-to-lovers and boy-who-kills-anything-he-touches/boy-who-cannot-be-killed is Great For Me. I also love the abuse of powers and manipulation involved in being interrogators/torturers(/murderers?) for the House of Magneto. They work together, they hurt people together, but maybe they also... smooch? THAT SAID! Adding Laurie to that ship is always a great way to fuck up and destabilize them! Especially in HoM, where we know she's already keeping secrets and can and WILL use her pheromones to fuck with people. And David! OH, DAVID. The only real New Mutant in this request. Does he have previous relationships with Josh and/or Kevin? I don't mind David/Noriko, but I also ship David with Kevin and Josh, and also Tommy and Teddy from Young Avengers, if you feel like exploring other parts of the HoM world. I have never considered David/Laurie before, but if you want to give it a whirl, I'm down. As for David-- His responses to state violence (as evidenced by the Hellions and SHIELD) are clearly different from the rest of the requested characters, and it would be interesting to explore David and his experience of this universe. Are his powers still restrained the same way? I know he supposedly dies at the end of the HoM mini-arc, but we never see them die, so feel free to write David managing to crawl off and plan to take down everything and everyone. A specific DNW for this fandom is Josh/Rahne. I don't mind the relationship having existed and impacting the characters, but only as a past relationship.

Extra Details:

SENSORY DETAILS. When it comes to magic and meta powers-- especially ones that aren't battle-oriented-- is what they feel like. What does it MEAN for David to be able to know anything someone else knows? What does the emptiness and fullness of it do to him? Josh's powers are all tactile and his body actively changes after trauma (in 616, first by turning him gold, then by creating black spots on his skin after he kills someone for the first time). Does his power always alter him, but usually in unnoticeable ways? What can he know and feel from a touch? Same for Kevin-- does withering sate a hunger, or make him feel worse? What would it feel like if he touched Josh? And Laurie... I'd love both her thought-process and the sensory details of what she's doing. Can she smell her own pheromones? Do they ever affect her? What does she feel like when she's manipulating people so subtly that they barely notice a passing smell? If you want to bring in other 616 knowledge and see what it looks like in HoM, that's cool. So is bringing in other HoM storylines. There's a throw-away line in Luke Cage's HoM crossover that the Runaways are known as an organized crime group. Cage himself runs a resistence cell (and given the end of the NXM crossover, David seems like he'd be willing to throw in with that lot). Young Avengers, the other New X-Men who weren't given much screentime in the HoM crossover-- I'd love any of that. Young Justice (Comics): Match, Tim Drake

The Series: Comics are confusing! This request is for the late-90s version of Young Justice by Peter David, which consisted of Robin, Impulse, Superboy, Arrowette, Secret, and Wonder Girl, along with others. It's very much a young-heroes-trying-to-make-their-way. Unlike the newer show, this Young Justice tended to be left on their own without much of a guiding hand. It was a very 90s comic, with very 90s fashion and a lot of nod-nod-wink-wink in-jokes. I love it because it's a series that always wore its humor on its sleeve. It's an affectionate look at young superheroes, and allowed them to react to teen problems alongside the more standard superhero tropes. There's the possibility for angst and darkness (and once they graduated to Teen Titans especially, that came up more), but they were allowed to be both hurt and upset AND fun and cheerful. The comics weren't available collected until last year (it took them TWENTY YEARS JFC), and it's well-worth buying from your local retailer, but you can also find them online here. The character I'm requesting first appeared in Superboy's solo series (starting in issue #35), which can be found here and again in the first volume of Young Justice: Sins of Youth. The Request: SO! I have always loved Match in the original YJ and Superboy comics, and the writers gave him really short shrift. We have a clone of Kon, who is as smart, if not smarter, can pretend to be Kon for extended periods of time— but every time he tries, people get hurt or die. I’ve always wondered how Tim felt that he literally couldn’t tell his best friend from an imposter. And then Match went and ran off and disappeared and no one ever seemed to consider what he was doing, after thousands of his/Kon’s siblings/clones were murdered essentially in front of him and the Agenda fell apart. (I’m not entirely surprised that Kon didn’t pay attention to all of those clones of him dying, but think about it from the standpoint of someone for whom those were supposed to be an army of his siblings. What a way to get survivor’s guilt.) Did Match go to Lex? It doesn’t seem like it, but given that as Kon’s clone, he’s technically Lex’s son too, it’s a possibility. Or alternately! He got himself out of the superhero game and did something else! What was it? I’d also love for a story about him wanting to be a super and have that family that Kon and Clark have, but being shut out of that world because he’s a “villain”. Or him getting that family after so long. Or him showing up at the Kents’ place because “fuck it, if Kon can have this, so can I” and it goes… well or poorly, depending on you. Or him finding his own family in a place that is separate from the who superhero thing, and Kon or Tim or Clark stumbling on him. Or Lex trying to use him— whether or not it works is up to you, although I’d love for it to touch on Match’s need to be part of something larger— after all, he was built and trained to be the vanguard for an army that was summarily murdered in front of him. Tim's refusal to even vaguely hint about his real identity during this time is fun too-- we have two boys who are both hiding their identities in different ways. It makes me wonder if Tim COULD have figured Match out, if the Sins of the Youth plotline didn't happen or was delayed somehow, because he seems to have all of the pieces of information. Or maybe Match-as-Kon was the only person Tim revealed part of his real name too, and has to deal with the ramifications of trust. Actually, Tim and the Issues Of Trust is the YA novel that I'd love to see Tim and Match (and Kon and the rest of YJ) star in. Bring back Mr Sarcastic (PLEASE bring back Mr Sarcastic) and Alvin Draper. Bring back the way that Tim hides by burrowing under identities and performances, and collects information on everyone he knows. I love detective stories and, out of all the Bats, Tim has always struck me as one of the best actual detectives, rather than crime-fighters. So Tim getting lost in a mystery will always make me happy. There's also something interesting about a group of young teens fighting for their own autonomy and identity. At this point in Tim's story, I think he was still thinking of the Robin thing as almost an extracurricular, and probably grappling with how hard it is on him physically, as well as mentally. So, I guess struggling for a coherent snse of self and agency are really interesting touchstones in this fandom. ALSO, MY DEEPLY HELD RARE PAIR FROM THE 90s: Tim/Match! See above, re: Match being present for Identity Crisis instead of Kon. I’d love Match to be trying to follow Kon’s footsteps re: Cassie, and being way more into Tim, which leads to Tim being confused and into Kon. Also any of the above prompts can include Tim (maybe Tim tries to help cushion a meeting between Match and Kon or Clark! Or maybe he just ends up Match’s sugar daddy. I’m down.) Although this request is ripe for dubious identity weirdness with Match pretending to be Kon, I'd really prefer that you focus on Match getting to be his own person, even if there's some pretending-to-be-Kon in there. Extra Details: This has been a lowkey love of mine for literally decades. My absolute favorite gift of all time was original pages from one of the Superboy issues where Match appears for the first time. And as I've grown older, my love for this rare, obscure character has deepened. Also, as I've grown older, I've begun to want more adult!Match, or growing up!Match just because the idea of growing up in the margins of superhero culture after everything that happened to him is really interesting. He was straight-up groomed and brainwashed, and then the Agenda was gone, so how did he cope? What is he doing now? What kind of adult does he make? This request is specifically for the mid-90s comic, so feel free to stick to that. But if you read the 2010-era Teen Titans and want to explore some later story choices-- like Match becoming Bizarro-like, Slade making him part of Titans East, or his fear that Jericho would hurt the Titans in his body, or save Match from Superboy-Prime, I'm not going to complain. (Personal headcanon time: I think Slade was trying to mind control Match with the same stuff he used on Rose, and it caused the Bizarro-like symptoms). I also love Elseworlds and mirror!verse stuff too. As I've said elsewhere in the letter, I really prefer Happily Ever After/Happily For Now stuff, and I prefer my bittersweet fics heavy on the sweetness. Please give Match the love and affection he's always deserved. But also, please feel free to make both Match and Tim HURT first.

#yuletide #dear yuletide author #no game no life #selector infected wixoss #wixoss #yoroiden samurai troopers #dragon prince #young justice #new xmen

2 notes · View notes

elddansurin · 6 years ago

Text

i filled out that entire got damn OC meme not once but four times for my main TES OCs because you know what? i have that power.

featuring: Gavriil, my dragonborn, Serras, the dragonborn’s weird boyfriend/travel companion, Lleris, my Nerevarine, and Gerrick, a non-vestige 2E OC who lives out the aldmeri dominion questline. this thing is long as shit behind the cut, but idc if anyone reads it, i did it for me.

1. It’s a little unreasonable for everyone in a Middle Ages-esque fantasy to be perfectly literate, and writing with quills was considered legitimate labor! How well can your oc read and/or write? How detailed is their quest log/journal, if they keep one at all? -Gav: He's extensively literate and very well read. He keeps a pretty detailed journal going, though it's kind of a hybrid of field notes/emotions log. He does a lot of alchemical research when traveling, so he might have a few pages of notes on reagents, field sketches, etc, then another five pages of intrusive thoughts. His biggest fear is they'll be published after his death and everyone's just gonna be like "huh." -Serras: Just barely literate. He's got very childlike printing abilities, can barely spell, and struggles reading any big words. He's extremely self conscious about this. He doesn't keep any journals, but he writes letters about his adventures to his father every now and again. -Lleris: Again, quite well read. He does a lot more reading than writing, and his journaling is kind of the equivalent of writing notes on his arm. -Gerrick: I'd say he maybe has around an 8th grade reading level. He's got the core stuff down no problem, but as soon as technical jargon or anything too esoteric kicks off, his eyes glaze over.

2. How educated is your oc? Did their parents teach them, did they have a tutor or were they apprenticed to a master, or did they attend a university? What university? What are they educated in? How long did their education take? (Learned skills like blacksmithing count here too!) -Gav: Overly so. He has the education/research equivalent of phD, I'd reckon. All the best schooilng daddy's money could buy. -Serras: He was "home schooled" by a man with no resources undergoing a 30+ year nervous breakdown. So like, it's shitty that Serras is as uneducated as he is, but kind of understandable, given the situation. -Lleris: Also more or less home schooled, but at the opposite end of the spectrum. His aunt (the person who raised him), was a fucking genius. Balls-out eccentric, but a genius. -Gerrick: He was raised and educated by kind of an ensemble cast of characters, so his education is fairly well rounded and extremely based in practical over theoretical. He later joins the mages guild, but he uses that less as an opportunity to pursue higher education, but moreso a way to figure out how to sling a better lightning bolt

3. Does your oc have any kind of crafting skills that either aren’t in-game or don’t have as much importance in-game as they would in real life? (For example, can your oc sew or weave, etc? Are they skilled in any kind of art? Can they make jewelry or work glass? Are they musicians? etc) -Gav has a practical knowledge of most crafts necessary for a sad bachelor life. He can cook well enough to keep himself fed, he can patch up most of the wear in his gear, but nothing that would really impress anyone. I'd imagine, in another lifetime, he played the lute. Not sure he'd remember how at this point, though. -Serras is extremely crafty. He'd an extremely resourceful cook, he can repair just about anything, and he's a natural outdoorsman. Dude's had a lifetime of learning how to do a lot with very, very little. Art is kind of a hobby for him that he doesnt get to indulge in quite as much as he'd like. -Lleris can barely function on his own. He cannot cook a damn thing, when his clothes tear he throws them out, and he almost dies of exposure on more than one occasion. It's a sad sight to behold. -Gerrick is fond of roughin it. His life skills are exactly as honed as they need to be. Not much, but enough to keep him alive and scrappy.

4. What pantheon does your oc worship? If they worship the Cyrodiilic/Imperial pantheon, does that include Talos? If they secretly worship Talos, how do they justify hiding it? -Gav: Pretty straightforward believer in the Altmeri pantheon. He's especially devout to Mara, though he's got a long way to go toward internalizing the whole "love yourself" thing -Serras: He's never really figured out what to believe in. Way back in the day, his family was heavily involved in House Indoril, and when the Tribunal kind of fizzled out, they were all pretty lost and not exactly stoked to go back to worshipping the "good" daedra. That more or less carried down to Serras, although he's not even aware of his ties to House Indoril or any of that Tribunal stuff. He has a learned fear of any sort of daedra, courtesy his father. -Lleris: He's pretty tight with Azura, natch. -Gerrick: Dude straight up does not care, but will absolutely pay lip service to Auri-El if it makes him look good.

5. How religious is your oc? Do they come into conflict with others over their beliefs? If their patron deity told them to do something extremely undesirable or against their moral compass, would they do it? Would your oc sell someone’s soul for a corn chip? -Gav is devout enough to have taken a shake at becoming a priest. Didn't pan out, because he couldn't deal with the pressure of being any kind of authority figure, and he's been kind of having a crisis of faith in the midst of his most recent extended nervous breakdown. As soon as he starts clearing his head again, he pretty much goes back to being pretty dang devout. -Serras is struggling to figure out his moral compass on his own. He wouldn't mind being religious, but growing up in a non-religious setting can make it hard to just start believing in something. -Lleris becomes way more into Azura worship as the whole Nerevarine thing plays out, and he would absolutely fuck things up in her name. His sour opinion of the Tribunal is absolutely influenced by Azura’s grudge. -Gerrick, again, does not care. His morals are his own, and no one's going to talk him into doing something that doesn't align with his own beliefs about life.

6. Does your oc have a family of origin? How many members of their FoO are still living? Do they have a good relationship? How much contact does your oc have with their FoO? How in-the-loop is your oc’s FoO about your oc’s being Dragonborn/HoK/Nerevarine? -Gavriil's immediate family are all still alive (except his sister, who died before he was born), and they have not been in contact in like, 200 years. None of them even know if he's still alive until a few years after the whole Dragonborn thing starts making its way back to Auridon. His parents are just kind of like "huh." and then continue to never bring him up in conversation. His younger brother eventually seeks him out to try and forge the relationship they never got to have. -Serras has a codependent relationship with his father. They love each other a lot, but their relationship was very, very unhealthy. That's the major reason why he ended up leaving home, because he finally realized the only way to heal the unhealthy dynamic was to learn how to be his own person. He has a pretty good relationship with his (maternal) aunt. His mother is still alive, and he has three half-siblings he's never met. None of them ever end up meeting. His mom never does figure out what happened to her firstborn. It is what it is. -Lleris is completely on his own at this point. His parents died when he was barely a year old, and he went to go live with his wacky aunt abroad. Those two were thick as thieves, but when she passed, Lleris was legit on his own. -Gerrick and his weird pirate family are all still on good terms. Both of his parents are still alive and although they dont see each other often, it's a grand old time when they finally do.

7. What social class was your oc born into? Did they change classes at all? How? -Gav: Super, super upper-crust. His family was nobles marrying nobles all the way back, and Gav just couldn't cut it in that world. His slump into absolute poverty is gradual, but pretty vicious. He does eventually pick himself up out of the gutter, but I'll go more into that a few questions down. -Serras: He was born into a weird, backwoods cult and spends the next 30-something years of his life living an extremely hand-to-mouth existence either in some slum or the legit middle of nowhere. Dude wasn’t exactly born into privilege. -Lleris: He was born into House Telvanni and lived a pretty well to do life until he was in his early 20s. After his aunt passed, he lived a few months as a street urchin before being arrested, then he slogs across Vvardenfell for like three years, "re-joins" House Telvanni and starts living a cushy life again, then gets tossed onto an Akavir-bound boat with a bag over his head. Takes a bit of a while before he lives the high life again after that. -Gerrick: Outlaw from birth. He was the son of the ship’s captain and her then-lover, and he was raised by the entire crew, more or less. He grows up to become, of all things, an Eye of the Queen. Yeah.

8. How politically active is your oc? Are they obviously influential, or is their influence more subtle? -Gav willfully keeps his head in the sand when it comes to politics, especially in places he doesn't think of as home. It's not an accident that he started moving further and further away from Summerset as the Thalmor became more entrenched in local politics. He absolutely does not touch the Imperial/Stormcloak tension. And honestly, even when he was at the height of his Dragonborn influence, no one wanted his opinion about the war, because not a single person in Skyrim wants to hear what an Altmer has to say about Nord politics. -Serras has a lot of opinions about the way Nords treat non-Nords, but he has pretty much no political agency. -Lleris starts out mostly entangled in Telvanni politics and helps his bff Aryon sack Gothren. He also tries and mostly fails to rub elbows with Neloth, because Neloth. Later on down the Nerevarine rabbit hole, he starts getting more and more vocal in general Morrowind politics, which culminates in him "volunteering" to go "explore" Akavir. -Gerrick, surprisingly for someone born a pirate, he canonically carries out the Aldmeri Dominion questline from ESO, so yeah he's just a little bit involved in politics.

9. What unplayable faction would/did your oc join, if any? Why? -Gav is associated with the Mage's guild, or I guess was associated. Which by the way? Bullshit that the guild was written out. But also, since I absolutely headcanon that enough of House Telvanni survives the Red Year to rebuild outside of Vvardenfell, I also imagine Gavriil worming his way into House Telvanni after he busts ass out of Skyrim. He never becomes very involved in House politics, he's more interested in going back into academia. Which he does. He more or less spends the rest of his days chillin in a mushroom house in Morrowind, writing books about levitating and shit. -Serras briefly had a stint with the Skyrim thieves guild, but he cuts ties pretty quickly because he is pretty disgusted with robbing from the poor to give to Maven Black-Briar. -Lleris has always had ties to House Telvanni, though he does have a brief stint with the Mages Guild before they are like holy shit, please leave us alone forever. He later swings by Solstheim as an old man to bother Neloth, who is like holy shit, please leave me alone forever. -Gerrick may not actively be a pirate anymore, but he is on pretty good terms with a bunch of them.

10. How trustworthy is your oc? Would they ever change opposing factions? -Gav: He's pretty much your lawful good kind of guy. He's decently loyal, even if only due to constant, overbearing guilt. At very worst, he'll just disappear rather than fulfill an obligation, but he'd sooner die than double cross anyone. -Serras: This is a guy who's mostly looking out for himself and the ones closest to him. In otherwords, Gavriil and/or his father. Probably not wise to put too much trust into him otherwise, because he's not exactly loyal if he's not actively benefitting from the arrangement. That said, he's not too much of a double-crosser, but don't trust him not to steal from you then lie about it. -Lleris: His loyalty can be bought. He won't feel too many qualms about changing sides if it benefits him more. So far, no one's offered him a better gig than being a champion of Azura, so it'd take a lot to get him to betray her. -Gerrick: His trustworthiness is super situational. He's in tight with Ayrenn, because you can't get much better than being the queen's go-to guy. He's smart enough to know not to betray her or the people involved with her. For the average person that he meets? Might be best to sleep with your eyes open around him. Patty is pretty much the only other person he wouldn't stab in the back at the drop of a hat. Outlaw roots, and all.

11. What is your oc’s main source of income, if they have one besides plundering tombs and adventuring? If they’re mercenaries, are they part of a company? Does your oc own their own business, and if so, what is it? -Gav has no source of income. Most of what he earns in his time in Skyrim is from acts of charity. For a few months, he pulls a legit job copying old texts for a bookseller in Solitude, but that only lasts as long as his precarious mental state will allow. Apart from that, he's pretty reliant on Serras's money. -Serras steals almost impulsively. He doesn't exactly keep a steady income, but its enough to keep both him and Gavriil in good supplies. Mostly. That they're both living off the land a lot does help. -Lleris does a lot of odd jobs where ever he goes. That and he has a bit of a history of pawning high ticket items that don't exactly belong to him. Keep your eyes on your soul gems when he’s in your house. -Gerrick lives the high life when he's actively working for the queen, but between Queens Eye stints, he's mostly earning a mercenary's salary. And he picks a lot of pockets. Why do I have so many thief-y characters?

12. Is your oc good with finances? Bartering? How long can they keep the money they make? -Gavriil: Not at all. At least not anymore. His parents never really taught him the art of finance to begin with, and his whole "functional" alcoholism thing makes it a bit hard to hang onto his money. He does get a bit better with time, but it DOES take time. -Serras: He's very good at knowing what things generally cost. Not worth the risk of stealing something that doesn’t get a good return. -Lleris: He can spend pretty loosely, but he also earns a fat cut with all the daedric weapons he gets his hands on. Him and that mudcrab merchant are pretty familiar with each other. -Gerrick: Generally earns a lot more than he spends. His standard of living is not particularily high, so even when he's "living large," he's not living THAT large.

13. Does your oc have any particular rivalry or mutual dislike with any NPC? -Gavriil has a really reluctant relationship with Delphine. He doesn't particularily respect her, and she's not impressed with who he is and who he chooses to be. That said, they do both realize they have some level of dependence on each other, right up until Delphine gives him the ultimatum about New BFF Paarthunax. After that he's like "lol bye" and they never see each other again. -Serras hates pretty much everyone in Skyrim for some reason or another, but they're all extremely one-sided relationships, because no one knows who the fuck he is. -Lleris is in the shit with virtually everyone in the Mages Guild, as well as anyone in every other great house. Both because of his connections with House Telvanni and, well, Lleris can be hard to be around sometimes. -Gerrick had always had a bad feeling about Estre and the fucking second she shows her ass, Gerrick's all “I FUCKING KNEW IT.” Estre wishes Gerrick would just die because who the HELL is this half-Maormer pirate asshole who's suddenly playing way too big of a part in Summerset politics.

14. How well-liked is your oc? What is their reputation, if they’re well-known? Are they simply liked/disliked, or are they respected but feared, or personally liked but not taken seriously, etc? Do major factions consider your oc an important player? -Gav: People have such mixed reactions to him. They usually hear about him well before they meet him, and at first they're like oh shit!!! Dragonborn!!!! Then they meet him and they're like uuuh he's a weird homeless dude with blatant unaddressed trauma. Kind of wish he wasn't the one who was going toe to toe with all these dragons. -Serras: Who? -Lleris: House Telvanni loves him. Except for like, Gothren, who gets killed by him. And Neloth, who never did get that robe of drake's pride. And Dratha. As for the rest of Vvardenfell, people start slowly warming up to him as he becomes more certifiably Nerevarine. Then they get real sick of him again. -Gerrick: His reputation is tied firmly with how someone feels about Ayrenn. If they like her, then Gerrick is unconventional but damnit, he gets the job done. If they oppose Ayrenn, then Gerrick is symbolic of everything that's wrong with Ayrenn and her foreign policy.

15. Does your oc have a horse/other mount? A pet? How did they get this animal? If they were given the animal, do they have the money to maintain it? How careful/careless are they with their animal? What do they do with their pets while adventuring, especially on dangerous quests? -Gerrick is the only one, and he has a giant stag mount that kind of comes and goes. He also has a constant clannfear familiar, which is, you know, conjured.

16. Does your oc take their time as they travel, or are they purposeful? How do they survive in the wilds, especially if they aren’t hunter-types? How dependent is your oc on civilized society? -Gav and Serras both spend ample time in the wilderness, even if civilization might be available. Gavriil enjoys keeping a low profile more and more as the whole Dragonborn affair goes on, and toward the end, he's keeping his head down as much as possible. Serras is fine with it because that's just what his life's like. -Lleris makes a beeline from town to town and will take silt striders whenever possible. He doesn't know how to hunt or dress game, he can barely pitch a tent, and more often than not will just sleep on the bare-ass ground like an idiot. Again, he has almost died of exposure on more than one occasion. -Gerrick could disappear into the wilderness for months and be just fine. He could be equally fine spending months in the middle of a major city. He's flexible.

17. What does your oc like to eat? How much food do they eat? Can your oc cook, and can they do it well? -Gav used to be a super picky eater in his earlier years. Now he'll eat anything that'll keep him alive. Too much grain alcohol has dulled his sense of taste. He knows how to decently fire-roast small animals, but he's not exactly an inspirational cook. -Serras is a fan of good food. One of the biggest inspirations for him teaching himself how to cook was so that he could eat good food on the reg. He can make a little go a long way, in terms of quality of ingredients. -Lleris is the kind of guy who'd burn spaghetti. -Gerrick is a pretty decent cook. His specialty is hearty campfire shit like stews and chowders.

18. What does your oc wear in the city/settlements? In the house? When travelling, but not adventuring or expecting combat? Do they vary their clothes depending on what hold/city they’re in? If they don’t, why not (e.g., if your oc wears the same outfit to tend their garden or lounge around the house as they did to meet Ulfric or Elisif, why?) Does your oc have a good or bad sense of fashion? How many clothes does your oc have? -Gavriil has one outfit, the same tunic and threadbare enchanted robe he's worn for the past dozen or so miles. It's all he's got, babey. -Serras has more outfits than you'd expect from the kind of guy who lives out of a tent 10 months out of the year. He likes to look cute. Also, he's almost always wearing a scarf, because he's pretty sure that's just what Dunmer do. -Lleris's outfit of choice is flowing, elegant mage robes, daedric boots, and pretty much nothing else. Naked under your robes seems like a pretty Telvanni thing to do, if we're being honest here. -Gerrick wears roguish pirate garb fairly often during the adventure phase, but he does have some fancy threads when he's in the company of royalty.

19. How picky is your oc about their gear? Do they have different equipment for different adventures, or is it the same suit of armor for everything (not counting upgrades like from steel to ebony)? -Gav, again, has one outfit. He does swap out his tunic after one is shredded/absolutely drenched in his own blood, but the robe has been with him for years at this point. He cannot be assed to enchant a new one. -Serras is not particularily picky about what his kit looks like. He's usually fine with a bit of leather armor, but he opts for pauldrons more often than not as, again, he's convinced that's just what Dunmer do. -Lleris won't wear it if it's not cute. -Gerrick is surprisingly discerning about his gear. He has a very high standard for what his weapons should look like, and everything needs to be properly enchanted if he's gonna be using it.

20. How does your oc acquire their clothes, and from where/whom? -Gav's robe is an old piece he enchanted himself when he was a bit more put together, and the rest of his outfit is more or less charity. Like hey, couldn't help but notice you got nearly torn in half by a dragon, can I offer you this shirt? -Serras's clothes were all honestly bought with money he earned from pawning stolen goods. Hmm. -Lleris will always make the time to shop for cute outfits when he gets to a big city. The boots? Conjured. -Gerrick's things were mostly honest purchases, but not all of them. He's not above pulling a pair of nice boots off a dead man's feet.

21. Can your oc swim, and how well? Have they ever swam in the ocean, or only lakes/rivers? Remember, it’s much harder to swim in the ocean than in a lake! If your oc is an Argonian, do they take special advantage of it somehow (e.g., do they go diving for fun/for profit, do they instinctively hide in the water, etc)? If your oc is a Khajiit who can swim, how do they get their fur dry? -Gav was born by the sea and as long as the water is warm, he loves to swim. The rivers and lakes in Skyrim are all too damn cold for him, even in the summer, so he water walks more often than he swims. -Serras is a decently strong swimmer, though he's never actually seen the ocean. Rivers and lakes, though, no big deal. -Lleris can barely swim and will water walk 99% of the time he encounters water. Even though he knows a water breathing spell, he's never actually used it. -Gerrick was born on a boat and is half Maormer. He fucking knows how to swim ok.

22. How easy/difficult is it to rob your oc? Pickpocket? Bribe? -Gav: Too easy. He's got nothing of value to take, so his guard is at like, 0. -Serras: He's a pickpocket by trade, he knows all the tricks. You'd have to be pretty fucking crafty to life something from under his nose. Even if you did, you can be sure as shit he'd steal it right back. -Lleris: He's been robbed a handful of times. -Gerrick: It wouldn't be impossible to pick his pocket, just very difficult and very unwise.

23. If your oc is part of one of the more morally questionable or outright evil factions, how do they justify it to themselves? Do they still consider themselves as morally good? How well known is their affiliation to these groups? Do they have separate personas (e.g. Dragonborn to some people, Listener to others)? Do their family/friends know? If they have separate personas, how do they keep their less than righteous activities secret? -Gav, despite being provably morally good, deals with a lot of completely unjustified guilt. He doesn't think of himself as that great of a person, because he feels too selfish. -Serras doesn't really hide that he's a thief by trade, at least to anyone who knows him. He's had his shot at honest work, and he just couldn't cut it. And well, a dude's gotta make a living somehow. He tries to keep his mind clear by only stealing from people who can afford to have things go missing. Or just if he hates them. Either way. -Lleris is very hush-hush about any work he's done with the thieves guild. He doesn't consider him to be affiliated with them, moreso that they stay in fleeting business arrangements, arrangements which become less and less frequent the more involved he gets in Telvanni politics. -Gerrick having pirate roots is something of an open secret. Part of his appeal as an Eye is his roguishness, and it's not exactly hard for him to work with shadowy sources. He'll never deny his heritage to anyone who directly asks. Not many people have the gall to do that, however, so rumors do fly.

24. How helpful is your oc, and why? Are they helpful or kind even during difficult situations? Are they pragmatic, or do they have a hero syndrome? -Gav has a weird obligation on/off switch. He feels guilted into helping people in certain situations, while he can walk away from others with a clear conscience. When the guilt hits, he will go so far against his own interests to help people, even if he's actively suffering as he does so. Even then, god does he hate being recognized as some kind of hero. Nothing he does in Skyrim makes him feel like a hero, and he actively lives out the world's most aggressive case of imposter syndrome even after Alduin fucking dies. He immediately leaves Skyrim after Alduin's death, because he can't live with the recognition he feels he fell dick first into. No one knows or cares who the Dragonborn is in Morrowind, so he busts ass to the eastern border the second his ass gets back to Nirn. -Serras historically doesn't go that far out of his way to help people, unless they're someone he already cares about, or who he owes some kind of debt. Part of his Growth is slowly taking up his father's mantel as a healer, and dedicating the rest of his life to helping people. Big claps for Serras! -Lleris has such a bad hero syndrome. The fucking second he gets the impression that he might be Nerevarine, that's how he's introducing himself to people. He does get to play big damn hero for a little while after the events at Red Mountain, but the novelty does eventually wear off, at least for the people around him. Well into his second or third century, he'll still bring up that time he was Azura's champion and killed not one, but two living gods. For like the thousandth time. -Gerrick can help or hurt. When he's helpful, he's super fucking helpful. He's your fucking MVP. But the second you cross him, he’ll be out for blood. And while he does have a reputation that often precedes him, he doesn't exactly milk it.

#if this cut doesnt work for you: im so sorry #OCs

9 notes · View notes