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sojourner-between-worlds · 6 months

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I normally don't vague post about other people (and I'm not really here, even) but someone in the tag suggested that Jack would make a better Team Leader than Yusei and it made me realize something, in part, about why people think that Yusei is boring.

tl;dr: Yusei isn't boring; he was written as the MC in the wrong genre.

See, Shonen protagonists typically have the following personality traits: loud, brash, hot-headed, sometimes abrasive. Yusei is none of those things, and Jack is ALL of them. Which, I'm sure, is what led that person to say that Jack would make the better leader and what leads so many people (who are mostly only fans of Shonen anime) to say that Yusei is boring. He doesn't fit their expectations of what a Shonen protag is supposed to look like, therefore he's boring.

But the thing is, if you popped him into, say, a Slice of Life, he'd be perfectly at home (well...except for the Trademark YGO Hair anyway) and well-loved by the fan base. I can say this with fair certainty because I've at least never seen anyone say that Natsume Takashi (Natsume's Book of Friends) is boring in any way, and honestly the two of them have very similar temperaments. The difference is, obviously, the genre of their respective stories.

Slice of Life allows for its protags to be softer-spoken, more reserved; Shonen often does not.

It's time people stopped saying that Yusei is boring and just admit that they like loud, brash characters as opposed to quiet ones, and that Yusei just doesn't fit what they expect from a Shonen protagonist.

He's not boring; he was just written for the wrong genre.

#not to mention that sol actually allows for exploration of trauma but that's another story lol #oh also for the record: jack would NOT make a better team leader #loud brash hotheaded and abrasive are NOT traits that make a good team leader #i could make a whole post solely about that but i won't haha #it doesn't mean i dont like jack btw #i love jack!#...but that doesn't mean i think he would make a good leader #anyway #yugioh 5ds #yusei fudo #also before someone comes for my head and starts listing off shonen with reserved mcs #i'm sure not ALL of them fit the description above #i haven't seen every shonen every made #what i CAN say is that of the ones i've seen the mcs usually fit at least TWO of the four traits listed #this also isn't anything against shonen! i like a good shonen once in a while!#i'm just saying there are differences in genre here (which. should be obvious. but this is tumblr. so gotta cover my bases lol)#and different genres have different character tropes #and yusei as the mc does not fit those character tropes #so for people who love that character trope then yeah a character who doesn't fit it isn't going to be interesting to you personally #okay at this point i have an additional essay in the tags so i'm done lol

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good-beanswrites · 9 months

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Hello hello! It's me again! (That one Anon who requested Lies with Kazui & Yuno, but I've set up my account now so no need to ask anonymously again lol) Thank you for satisfying my previous request, it was such a delight to read. I keep rereading it every now and then and I'm still always left in awe with it like jesus christ you didn't have to go all in on that im sobbing with the 0207 friendship dynamic.

I've also seen your latest post and drabble asks. I'd like to request from the Drabble List#1 - #5 “Idiots. They are all idiots.” with Es themselves!

Let the prisoners have fun and Es just stares at them nonchalantly, silently judging their idiocy from afar, hell, maybe even let Yuno/Mikoto convince them to join. You can do anything as long as you think it'll fit, they're all just a little silly (minus the fact they're in prison lol).

With all that said, take your time and no rush! I can always wait. Thanks a lot! ...now back to rereading my previous request for the nth time,, i love it so much,, thankyouagain

Ah thank you so much, that means so much!! I'm so glad you liked it, that one was really nice to write :'D And yesss thank you for the request -- this was such a blast to do as well! (though I also made myself emotional over Es' lost childhood, that was less fun ;___;) I debated on several activities within the prison but thought this was plausible and fun for some mid-T1 shenanigans

Es had a job to do. They had many eyes watching them. They had several lives in their hands. They had heavy responsibilities. They didn’t have time for something as silly as ‘video game night’, regardless of the laughter that bubbled up from the common room as they passed by. They were not way tempted to join, regardless of how much fun the group seemed to be having when they peered their head in.

Fuuta had whined that Es had replaced all his requests with completely outdated consoles and games, confirming they had been successful in choosing things without any access to the internet or outside world. Plus, they thought, this gave the older prisoners a fighting chance with some of the games.

Not that they cared whether or not the prisoners had a good time. That wasn’t any concern of theirs. Even in these long periods of rest between their more eventful duties, they must remain focused.

The laughter crescendoed into delighted screaming.

Es figured one more look inside wouldn’t hurt. They were supposed to be keeping an eye on everyone, after all.

The prisoners had gathered various chairs and bedding material, creating makeshift couches. Some piled onto the new seating, some splayed out on the ground, others stood in excitement. The television was so small, the two players needed to lean all the way forward to see.

Mahiru bounced in her seat as Yuno whipped around her remote. Fuuta was demanding Kazui play better, gesturing wildly at the screen. Shidou chucked to himself as the others grew more intense. Haruka kept asking questions about the game, receiving an answer only about half the time.

As the match got closer, Yuno leapt to her feet. She tried to shimmy in front of Kazui and block his view. He stood to prod her out of the way. Muu called foul play, though she said it with a thrill rather than accusation. Fuuta repeated it -- with quite a lot of accusation -- and tried to push Yuno out of the way. Mikoto tried to hold him back, voicing his support of Yuno’s methods.

The others got caught up in the yelling. Amane’s eyes were wide in anticipation. Kotoko pumped her fist as the battle got even closer. The room erupted in movement and shoving and tripping and remote pulling -- until they yanked the tiny television forward.

The thick cord came free, and the screen went black just before a winner was announced. Ten voices chorused their outrage.

Es shook their head. “Idiots. They are all idiots.”

They turned away as the prisoners hurried to set everything up again. They were just about to turn the corner into the panopticon when Yuno’s voice called from behind.

“Hey!” She ran up, taking advantage of their brief pause. “I saw you passing by. Why don’t you come join us?”

Not for the first time, Es wished they had enough height to look down on all the prisoners. “I’m your warden. I’m not some child here to play games with you all.”

She pursed her lips. “I’m not a kid either. But I’m still down for a night to unwind.”

“You’re lucky to have the luxury to relax. I, on the other hand, am busy right now.”

Yuno made a show of looking left, then right, across the empty hallway. “And what exactly are you doing right now?”

“I’m working.”

She frowned. “Uh-huh…”

“I am!” They fumbled for more, coming up blank. They should have known the moment she came skipping over to them that it would be impossible to fool her. There was no need for this routine check of the prison; everyone was gathered in the common room except them. Yuno had known this before uttering a single word.

Her hands fluttered in a dismissive gesture. “Too much work is never good for you. It doesn’t matter how mature you are -- if you get too caught up in your job it’ll drive you to some crazy things.” She smirked. “Just look at Shidou. Or Mikoto!”

“I could look at you…”

Though surprise flickered across her face, she kept grinning. “Exactly! So let’s get you in here.” She tugged on their arm. Prisoners couldn’t physically move Es against their will.

They huffed as they found themselves inching closer and closer to the entryway.

“I suppose I can come and watch,” they muttered, “and still keep an eye on you all.”

“No! No more working!” She managed to get them into the room. “Here, you can take my spot in the next round.”

Kazui looked over. “Who said you were getting the next spot?”

“Oh come on, I was clearly going to win that one.”

“Clearly? I'm pretty sure was seconds away from beating you.”

“Well then, I guess Es can take your spot.”

“Es is playing?” Haruka looked up excitedly.

“I haven’t agreed to anything yet.”

It was as if they hadn’t said anything at all. The others launched into a discussion of who would give their remote to Es? Who would they’d face off against? Were they resetting the bracket they’d begun? Which game would they return to? The ten argued in circles for a while. For a group of murderers, they were insistent on a fair tournament. After breaking up some bickering that could have become physical, Es once again wondered how they ended up watching over a mess like this.

At length the game was chosen, and a rematch was slated for Yuno and Kazui later in the night. To save themself time and sanity, Es went ahead and picked their opponent.

“I’ll play Fuuta.”

He had been the obvious choice: he could supply enough chatter for the both of them, so Es could remain silent. Also, he was guaranteed to win and free them from an obligation to play more than one round. They flashed a look at some of the more observant prisoners, hoping they didn’t tip them off.

However, no one was really watching them too keenly. Mahiru clapped in joy. Yuno beamed. Mikoto shoved a remote into their hands. Haruka started rapidly explaining the rules to them. Shidou directed Es to their seat in the center. Kotoko gave them an encouraging nod. As expected, Fuuta was already deep into trash talk as he sat next to them.

They really were simple-minded people, more focused on this silly game than the fact their warden had just sat amongst them. It was dangerous to let one’s guard down in a place like this, Es reminded themself.

With a little jingle, the match began.

Their fingers flew across the controls. Though they had a rocky start, some sort of muscle memory kicked in. Surely this game had come out before they were born, and there was no way they’d played it regularly. None of that mattered much. Their little avatar was obviously gaining the lead.

Their eyes stayed fixed on the screen as they received slaps on the back and nudges. Their guard's cap was knocked off in the shuffling, but they couldn't risk picking it up. Voices called all around them.

“Aw, don’t just let the kid win!” Mikoto said.

“I’m not!” Fuuta was desperate. “They fucking tricked me! They’re a pro!”

Es felt energy run through their entire body. Their original plan already slipping away, they wondered if they could actually beat Fuuta. It would be fun to see… They leaned forward, holding their breath. The audience continued cheering the pair on. Once again, the room was swept up in shouts.

The match ended. A little banner flashed across the screen to name Es victorious. They jumped up, a small whoop escaping them.

They would’ve melted in shame right then and there, if the sound weren’t already drowned out by the surrounding chaos. The others laughed and shook Es in amazement. Fuuta let out a string of colorful language.

“That was incredible!”

“Holy shit!”

“How’d you do that?”

Es placed the cap back on their head, pulling it over their eyes. “I don’t know. And it doesn’t matter. I’m done for the night.” They tried to pass off the remote, but Mikoto pushed it back into their hands.

“Nuh-uh. I want to see this for myself.” He grabbed the other one from a dejected Fuuta. “Same game. Same characters. Lemme see what you’ve got.”

Es wasn’t meant to play one round, much less get caught up in their ridiculous tournament.

Don’t be an idiot, they told themself.

“Bring it on,” they told Mikoto.

#milgram #es #yuno kashiki #fuuta kajiyama #mikoto kayano #and everyone else #i always worry it gets too busy with too many characters but i think this works 👍#thank you for all your kind words!!! i feel like a broken record but it really means so much to me --#im so happy youre enjoying these as much as i am >:3 #my next one is going to be a bit more serious but it was really fun doing these lighter ones :')#they deserve a night of relaxation and fun! im absolutely obsessed with es' insistence on their duty and solemn attitude #because theyre just a kid! they need a break! theyd get excited and competitive just like anyone else! they should be allowed to!#UGH #i think es and amane are a bit too similar with their struggles with age and being controlled by adults where its harder to get along #but yuno also understands what its like to want to be seen as a responsible mature person despite a younger age #and shed know how best to say things lightly but still meaningfully <3 #yeah i thought about them doing sports or cooking or karaoke but this worked the best #haruka and amane dont have much experience with video games but i think theyd catch on quick #shidou has a lot of fun but he sucks ass LMAO #mahiru also isnt great but even if she was doing good shed let everyone else win to make sure their spirits stay up #im a sucker for writing where a character says something over and over and you just know theyre trying to convince themselves 😂#someone tell me to stop rambling in the tags and just make a new post for gods sake asdfsdfds #i hope you enjoy!#im late by now but woo happy getting your account set up 👏 welcome to the hellsite...#drabbles

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bittsandpieces · 4 months

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Only one person asked but that's all I need, so: here's my little excerpt from one of my writing pet projects! Content warnings for: fictional depictions of incest between brothers, offscreen homophobia, and uhhhh silly names

Some info on the setting and characters! The Cobbler family, parents Lisa and Jeff Cobbler, and their nine kids, from age 7 to 26, all named after types of cobbler dessert (their mother is... an eccentric powerhouse). This excerpt centers on two of the older set of triplets, fraternal brothers Blackberry and Strawberry, who are 21 years old and in their junior year at the same local university. Rumors have been flying and things come to a head.

“Are you hurt?” he asked, breath rushing warm and humid across my cheek. I laughed, just a little bit.

“I’m okay, I promise. Are you?”

“Strawberry, I’m not the one who got in a fist fight ten minutes ago, I’m fine!”

I smiled at him, feeling my face protest loudly. “I did, didn’t I. I got into a fist fight, Bick!”

The anger in his eyes softened, and was replaced by a questioning look. “What they were saying, Berry, was it true?” Flashes of audio came through my mind. Queer, I think they had been saying. Like it was an insult. I might have said it the same way, once.

“Yeah, I guess it is. Though it seems like they might have figured it out before I did. Funny, how shit happens, huh bro?”

We were standing close to one another, still in the entry to Blueberry’s dorm room, dusk-blue light filtering through the curtains, just barely. I made a move to step back, to give him some space, but he grabbed my arm, searching my face for something.

I don’t know if he found it. I don’t even know what he was looking for. But I do know that the light coming into the room made him look like some kind of painting come to life, and that his eyes were shining, and I swear I’d never seen something so damn beautiful as he was in that moment.

“Yeah,” I repeated, dumbly, ”it’s true.”

And the moment that had stretched thin in the air snapped, just like that.

He pushed away from me, off of the entry wall, and began pacing across his room. He was mumbling, I realized, agitated in a way I had rarely seen him.

“Bick…” I started, but he didn’t let me finish.

“NO, Strawberry. No, no, no, no, don’t you even talk to me right now. I never should have- this is all my- UGH. If I had just kept my fucking mouth shut, none of this would have- fuck, who told you? Was it David? It has to have been David, there’s nobody- oh my god, I trusted him-”

He stopped abruptly, turning to face me with something that I almost thought was, was fear, but that didn’t make any sense, why would he be afraid. Was he afraid of me?

And my brain caught up with his words, finally.

“Who told me what?”

I’d never seen my brother look so defeated.

“That I’m in love with you, Strawberry.” He laughed, a little, but it sounded a lot more like grief than joy. “I’m in love with you, and you’re going to hate me, and I’m going to be known as the guy who couldn’t maintain a goddamn relationship because he wanted to fuck his own brother. God. God, what have I done.”

Oh.

OH.

I felt like I couldn’t breathe. I saw him like I’d never seen him before, in that moment. Like I’d always seen him. Pacing again, pulling at his dark hair, a silhouette against the fading evening light through the windows.

My brother. My triplet. My favorite person. My life.

I stepped towards him, stopping his pacing with just one touch. He whirled towards me, tears in his panicked eyes, his mouth open just a bit, breathing heavily from his panic.

I took his face in my palms, feeling the beginnings of stubble catch on my skin. I stared into his eyes, seeing his hands hovering in my periphery, halting in mid-air, like he wanted to touch me but didn’t know if he could.

“Blackberry Mint Cobbler.”

He flinched, just the tiniest bit, and I almost lost my nerve in the face of his fear of my reaction. I pushed on.

“I have never hated you, not one second of my life, not even in sixth grade when I said I did because you gave my lunch to Rebecca Simmons. I don’t hate you now, and nothing you could ever do would make me love you any less than I already do.”

His face screwed up on a shaky inhale, and I was helpless as I leaned my forehead in to meet his.

“I’m not good at words, Bick, you know I’m not, but for you, I’m gonna try. I love you. I have a list in my head of the most beautiful things I’ve ever seen, and three quarters of it are mental pictures of you.”

His knees began to buckle, and I pressed him to the wall with just my body, refusing to let go of his face or let him fall. He made some kind of sound when I did, some mewling exhale, eyes sliding closed, and I decided in that moment that I would do anything to hear it again, for the rest of my life.

“I know I’m slow on the uptake sometimes, and I think maybe I’ve made you wait for me to get it for far longer than you deserve, but if what you said is true, if you love me. If you want me. Then… then I’m here. I’m here Bick.”

I felt tears running down my cheeks, felt my brother’s tears on my fingertips.

We always did match each other in the ways that counted.

He exhaled, that sound that he made when we were nine and he fell off of his bike down the street from our house slipping out from his lips. When I had gone to him, limping over, restricted by my knee brace from when I had torn a ligament a few months earlier. “Hey Bick, don’t cry,” I had said, pointing to my knee, “we match now!” He had made that sound, like I was being ridiculous or maybe incredible. I never found out which.

He spoke, and I came back to myself.

“What are you doing, Shortcake?” he asked me sadly, like he had resigned himself to his fate without ever asking me, using my oldest nickname, like he was trying to remind me who I was talking to. He pulled back, making me meet his eyes again, though our bodies were still pressed tightly to one another against the wall. I didn’t think he could stand right now, and I wasn’t about to risk him falling.

I thought about his question, moving one hand to trace over his brow, pressing out the tension, though it returned immediately.

“I don’t know,” I admitted. “What do you want me to do?”

He shook his head, displacing my hands momentarily, tensing up again.

“No, no, Strawberry, you’ll hate me,” he said, tears in his voice.

I pressed against him just a bit more, an idea forming in my mind. He inhaled sharply.

“You already told me so much, Blackberry, what’s one more thing?” My tone was cajoling, almost demanding. “I’ll even help you.” He looked at me, like he had never seen me before. To be honest, I hadn’t ever seen this side of me either. It felt dangerous, almost, but right. Like right now, in this moment, this was who I needed to be. Who he needed me to be.

“It’s okay, brother. Just repeat after me.”

I saw a flush begin on his cheeks, different than the one he got from crying. One I hadn’t seen before. In that moment, I felt him twitch against me, and knew that what I saw was arousal.

“I,” I began.

“.....I-I,” he echoed me.

“Want you to.”

“W-want you to.”

I smiled, feeling a new edge to it. Predatory, I thought.

“It’s your turn, Bick. Tell me what you want.”

He closed his eyes, clearly fighting himself.

And I saw the exact moment he gave in.

He opened his eyes once more, meeting mine, scared and fierce, beautiful and messy. He spoke.

“Kiss me.”

----

I pressed against him, burning hot, pressing my lips to his, remembering everything he had ever told me he liked. I kissed him, and felt him shake, and knew that I would do anything for him, that I would take on the fucking universe for the man against me, kissing me like he thought I might disappear at any second.

I pulled away, panting, and got to watch his eyes flutter open, dark with want in the rapidly fading light.

“Tell me, big brother,” I said, rolling my hips into his, “does this feel like hate to you?”

His eyes rolled back, and then suddenly, he pushed me. I stumbled back a step, ready to catch him if he ran, ready to ask what the hell he was doing, but he was dropping.

To his knees.

I looked down, and I saw my brother press his mouth against my jeans. My hand went to his hair, his hands to my thighs, and when my hand tightened on accident, he fucking made this sound- like a whine, and pulled harder against my fingers.

And my vision blacked out.

When I came back, ears ringing, I had pushed his head against the wall, and my cock to his mouth, harder than I had ever been, painfully constricted in my jeans. I made to pull back, worried I had hurt him, but the moment I moved he reeled me back in by my thighs, trying to get a hand between us to open my jeans without moving his mouth.

I was helpless to stop him, to help him, to do anything but stand there, shaking, my triplet whining on his knees, struggling with my zipper before giving up and yanking my pants down, my underwear going with them.

He crowed a wordless victory, and cut himself off by shoving my cock in his mouth, down his throat, gagging and pushing through it, and my mind shut off, and I pushed further in, and he moaned on my cock, and I came.

My hand yanked him onto my cock by his hair, as heat tore me apart from the inside out, and as I began to come down, I realized what I had done, and I pulled back, out of his mouth, afraid I had hurt him.

I dropped, wincing as my knees hit the floor in front of him, cock out, still half hard, hands in his hair, and I met his teary eyes as I said his name.

“Blackberry…” I said, and my voice was deeper than it had ever been, and he keened wordlessly at me, jerked his hips forward, and came, without a single touch. He shuddered, his body tensing, shaking, never looking away from me. I could have cried with how beautiful, how fucking hot it was. Maybe I did.

He collapsed forward into me, and I twisted to get my back against the bed frame, and dragged my exhausted brother into my lap, curling us into each other in a strange mirror of how we had been in out mother’s womb, so long ago.

----

We didn’t talk, that night. Eventually, when we had both stopped shuddering, I pressed a kiss to his hair, and scooted him off of me, helping him up. We made our way to the bathrooms, co-opting the one private shower, uncaring if anyone were to see us entering or leaving.

The halls were empty, but still, we didn’t speak. We just got there, locked the door, and began peeling each other’s clothes off, slowly and carefully. I turned on the shower, and when I turned back, he was there.

I mean, obviously he was there, we went in together and there was no one else around, but. He was there. My brother was there and he was naked and his cock was beautiful and smeared with come, with his come, and I did that, I made him come, and before I even knew I was moving I had stepped to him and kissed him, reverently, softly, trying to say everything in one kiss.

When we finally pulled apart, I took his hand, and led him into the shower, which definitely wasn’t made for two people, much less two 6’4” athletes. It was perfect.

#bitts posts #bitts writing #< a new tag! perhaps there will be more some time #fauxcest #brocon #idk man im pretty sure my posts dont show up in tags but just in case #i wrote this... some years ago. ive been a freak this whole time lmao #this is NOT the only incest pairing in this family just for the record because i have a very specific brand of brainrot #anyway. david knows bc he and blackberry hooked up and blackberry said the wrong name #david's cool and not a snitch though blackberry is just making assumptions about what caused the fight at the beginning #um. if you read this and enjoy it please tell me? ive never posted something like this

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