dutyworn

[dutyworn]

i know i'm not required to explain myself if i vanish from tumblr, but i want... so, feeling like i'm back, again? like, more solidly.

i don't remember if it was even april or may that i felt like i blinked and the month had passed and i hadn't really been here at all, and then, there was something else that kept me away, i think my sleep schedule got shitty again.

as in, i kept thinking i was back to more regular writing and i wasn't. i had something weird go on with my periods' timings so it was harder to predict when i would feel unwell or well.

so i made like a few attempts to get back to writing regularly only to miss several days, and now i'm feeling like i could get to it so i'm. letting you know that i plan to cautiously do that, and then if i feel solid enough ("solid" is a good word for how i want/need to feel to be able to do many things... as opposed to not quite there, ethereal, transparent, ghostlike) i will endeavour to get back to messaging people back about plotting

and then if i feel solid enough about all that i might go to actively reblogging memes, seeking new interactions, and such - i'm not closed to new interactions at all and i love it when people randomly send me memes from the tag, but i feel guilty if i'm the one initiating things by reblogging memes and such when i'm not... solid lol

[dutyworn]

came back wrong but its from the perspective of the person who came back

[dutyworn]

you're allowed to say 'no' to things. if you don't want to write or plot or ship with me, that's okay. maybe you're not interested, maybe you just don't feel like it right now — whatever reason you may have, you don't need to explain yourself or make up any excuses. just tell me straight up if that's the case; i promise i won't be mad at you. and should you change your mind in the future, that's great. if not, that's great, too. just don't ever feel obligated to agree to something you maybe don't want to do just because you're afraid of hurting my feelings over it.

[dutyworn]

you know what i find interesting? people lamenting that they hate cerberus, don't want to work for cerberus, and how they wish they could have told their VS that too. but i kind of thought the point was that shepard isn't a self insert, like, sure you as a player may hate cerberus but shepard did very much join them willingly. whether that was with hesitation or none at all is up to you, and i do think there's room for interpretation regarding shep being manipulated into it, but still. dressing it up as "well they actually work for ME, i'm calling the shots" doesn't really help much... idk maybe i just have it all wrong and bioware fully intended for the player to be real happy about joining cerb

[dutyworn]

Wren doesn’t quite register Ryker’s been badly hurt, at first. She shoots the bandit down, thinking it’s the usual close call. It’s when he stumbles backwards that she realises he’s been stabbed, that he’s bleeding.

❝ No, no, no, ❞    she mumbles, more to herself, as she rushes by his side, trusting the rest of her team can handle it. To the comms,    ❝ Ryker’s hurt. Cover for us. ❞    She can’t be focusing on combat when she doesn’t know how badly injured he is, she needs to make sure he’s OK. He has to be OK.

She kneels next to him, presses her own hand to the wound as she fumbles with medigel for first-aid.    ❝ Stay with me, now. ❞    She isn’t sure if he’s conscious as she administers the medigel. It’ll ease the pain and keep him from bleeding out, but the cut doesn’t look good, not like something just medigel can patch up. He’s all bloodied, and it’s only been minutes... This is her fault. She recruited him for her team.

❝ Hey, ❞    she says, cupping his face into her palms.    ❝ Need you to stay awake for me, now. OK? ❞    Her body is stiff with concern, only minorly relaxing as he blinks his eyes open.

Blood on his lips, he’s clearly hurt beyond the capabilities of medigel. She rolls her eyes at him, wanting to pretend it’s fine, because she doesn’t want to freak him out.    ❝ So sorry I’m not just letting you keep your pride and die on the spot. ❞    She wipes the blood with gentle thumbs, gentle circles. Can’t keep herself from frowning in worry.

❝ Team, ❞    she says to the comms, including the Normandy && Joker,    ❝ abort mission. Ryker’s down, we need to get him to the medbay, stat. Priority’s getting out of here. ❞    So much for trying to avoid freaking him out, but what else can she do.

@dutyworn

[WOUND]: after the receiver has been wounded, the sender tries to keep them calm and conscious by cupping their face in their hands and talking to them to keep them focused. / wren being NICE to Ryker for once

Situational awareness had never been a strength of his: when Ryker fought, he fought hard but scrappy. He'd focus on what was in front of him more than what was to his left or right. He'd know if someone was there, but wouldn't register what they were doing until they were on top of him. Usually things just worked out for him....but 'usually' isn't always. And 'usually' doesn't mean he couldn't be unlucky.

And boy was he unlucky today.

As he'd focused on the bandit he'd been biotically choking across the room, Ryker had failed to notice the man's accomplice approaching his flank. He also hadn't noticed the knife, nor did he until he felt the cold steel sink into his body. His biotics faded away as the blade was pulled from the wound in his side before being plunged again into his stomach. He turned to face his attacker, grabbing onto their wrist as he tried to prevent another cut; holding just long enough for someone - whether it was Wren or a member of the crew, he didn't know or care - to shoot the bandit.

As his attacker crumpled to the ground, Ryker's hand pressed into the wound at his stomach and he stumbled back against the crates. His brow furrowed as he felt the blood coat his fingers and soak into his clothes; he grunted in pain as the wound at his flank collided with the box and he slowly slid to the floor as his head began to spin. His hearing was fuzzy - like his head was underwater - but he knew gunfire was still going on. He thought he heard Wren but, even if he had, he couldn't understand what she was saying.

Ryker's head lulled forward as he sat on the ground, his hand losing pressure on the wound it covered. Just as he felt like sleep was enveloping him, his face was grabbed and shaken a little. After a few rapid fire blinks, Wren came into view, her hands on his cheeks and her voice finally registering in his ears. She looked worried. Well that's not a good sign.

Blood trickled from his lips as Ryker forced his half smile to his face. "You said you wouldn't bully me in front of other people. I have a reputation to uphold, y'know."

[dutyworn]

She groans, but doesn’t fight Ryker further on the matter of the gun. They don’t have time for this, and while she worries about him... if the situation was reversed, she’d be stubborn about exactly the same thing. Especially if she were a biotic and he weren’t.

So she gives in, and tells him to be careful, emphatically. Exhausted from the effort of it all, his joke goes completely over her head, this time.

Staying awake is harder than she’d thought  —  she’s lost a lot of blood, and she’s more tired than words can express, but she knows not to close her eyes. They’re going to get out of here, the both of them, and she needs to stay as alert as she can for that, even as she has to keep readjusting her grip on the gun in her hand, slippery with cold sweat.

The cells seem more or less sound-proof (makes grim sense, with the torture going on in there), so she doesn’t even hear if Ryker is fighting people, elsewhere in the building. It’s unnerving, the waiting, but for better or worse she’s exhausted enough she doesn’t have the capacity for the same frantic concern she’d be feeling if she was all there.

The knock startles her — but although he’s not heard the rhythm in forever, her nervous system responds before conscious thought does, and she just knows it’s him,  it’s safe.

Wren takes a moment to ping the door open for him.

❝ You look like hell, ❞    she comments, good-naturedly, but not quite able to hide the tinge of worry from her tone (for him, for the both of their situation).    ❝ Are we clear? Can we leave? I... ❞

She cannot wait to be out of this place, but the supplies he’s carrying probably imply he’s going to patch her up a little, first. She’d rather just... leave, let him carry her away, who cares if her wounds open again, but she has a feeling he’d tell her that’s a terrible idea, and that might not be entirely incorrect, so she doesn’t say anything.

"You can try convince me if you want, but we both know I'm not gonna listen." A corner of his mouth curled upwards as he brushed the hair from her face, fingers grazing over her damp skin as he tucked the stray strands behind her ear. "You ignored me over the whole breathing thing, let me win this one. Please?"

Moving out of her way, Ryker's hand braced against the wall as he watched her work. His head was still pounding, the implant in the back of his neck still burned, but he found himself studying Wren's every movement and losing sense of time as she hacked the cell's lock. She was hurt: probably more than he could tell and certainly more than she'd ever admit, and yet there she was, cracking security like it was nothing. Was she slower than usual? Yeah. Was she still the only reason either of them had any real chance of escaping? Also yeah. As his eyes remained honed in on her hands and her omnitool, Ryker couldn't help but feel relief: she was still fighting to get home. A long buried feeling shot through him as he straightened his spine and shuffled a little: she might be a Naval Officer, a Special Forces soldier and a Spectre, but - just like when they were kids - it was his job to protect her. She was fighting to get home; it was his job to see she made it there.

The chime of a successful hack brought his attention back to her and he finally noticed the offered weapon. Taking a gentle hold of her hand and the pistol grip, Ryker slowly pushed the weapon back to her chest. "'Probably', isn't good enough for me." Covering the back of her hand with his palm, he leaned in and spoke a little softer. "I need to know you have some kinda safety net, Wren. I want you to have some way of protecting yourself." His smirk - and the familiar glint of mischief in his eyes - returned as he stood. "'cause if you think you're gettin' out of explaining those noises I heard earlier, you are badly mistaken."

Cracking open the door, Ryker peered outside the cell. Seeing that the corridor was clear, he looked back to his friend. "I'll be as quick as I can. Just- try to stay awake for me." There was, admittedly, a lot more he wanted to say, but like she mentioned before: there was a time and a place. With one last smile, and a wink for good measure, he slipped through the gap and closed the door behind him.

---

Close to ten minutes passed before he returned to the cell block - sporting a cut above his left brow and a rapidly growing black eye - with a bag full of medical supplies slung over his shoulder. All he could do now was hope she remembered their old knock....and hope he did as well.

[dutyworn]

i wanna make it unequivocally clear that there are no time limits when it comes to rping with me. idc if you're scrolling through your drafts and you find a thread of ours from two years ago+ and you wanna continue it... but you're afraid i'll be upset with you bc it's been so long...

babes, i am holding your face so gently when i say this: do the thing. i promise, the only thing i'mma be when i see that notif is excited

[dutyworn]

The Illusive Man had asked her to not reveal what she was to Wren’s old friends. Shepard hadn’t argued; she had easily agreed, made a promise, even. All of it, false  —  she’d known, from the moment they had told her  what she was,  that she wouldn’t play their games. She wouldn’t pretend. Not to the people she’d have to work with. Lie to the public, the press, the military brass? Whatever, she can see why not complying with that might become an issue for her mission. But lie to the people who had known her? She’s not doing that.

The moment she had been reunited with Joker, she had spilled, knowing the Illusive Man was overhearing the conversation. The pilot had... not been thrilled about the deception, but it seemed he was in much the same position than Shepard. If they wanted to do something about the Collectors... this was their best, maybe only, chance.

Because Shepard does want to fight the Reapers.  What else is there for her?  Quite literally this is what she was created for. Fumbled memories of Wren’s life... more like fragmented facts, she can’t find any emotion related to anything in that constructed past.

It’s the same with Ryker Moore. Shepard meant to tell him the moment she found him; fuck the Illusive Man trying to manipulate Wren’s old contacts into the Normandy’s team through her. But they’re been under attack, and both too busy trying to survive for a heart-to-heart.

She doesn’t pause to make sure the coast is clear when the last merc goes down (doesn’t really care if she lives or dies, and it’s difficult to protect her teammates when she’s unconcerned about protecting even herself), just cups Ryker’s face with both hands, making intense eye-contact, because she needs him to understand this without her having to repeat herself over and over.    ❝ Wren Shepard is dead. ❞    Her tone is firm, final.    ❝ I look like her, but I’m not her. Cerberus made clones, in case they couldn’t revive her. So you get me instead. The Illusive Man— ❞    She’s cut off as she realises the fight isn’t over  —  last moment, she shoves Ryker back into cover.

&& then it’s back to business. There’s something about the way he’d looked at her, that she doesn’t want to think about, actively wants to bury. The anger, the betrayal. Of course they’re all going to hate her  —  their friend is dead and she looks like her, speaks like her, fights like her. Why should she care? Yet Ryker’s reaction, Joker’s reaction... Shepard feels like she’s being hollowed out, bit by bit. Is this what she’s going to feel, every time?

She shouts as she shoots at the mercs, rapid-fire, reckless, yells out wordlessly to drown anything but the battle.

She enjoys this, she thinks. The battle.

Aware Ryker has stopped helping, she tells herself she doesn’t give a fuck. If he doesn’t want to join her team, surely the Illusive Man has another dossier up his sleeve.

❝ What I was saying, ❞    she continues, once this wave of mercs (hopefully the last) are down, not bothering to look at Ryker this time,    ❝ was that the Illusive Man is trying to use me to manipulate people with previous connections to her. I’m supposed to pretend I’m her to rope you in. I’m not doing that. ❞    Clearly.    ❝ What he wants you for is important, though. So  —  will you hear me out? ❞    She does turn to look at him now. All matter-of-fact. She doesn’t want... to feel anything.

@dutyworn

[BETRAYAL]: trying to keep the receiver calm before the big reveal, the sender cups their face gently to keep them steady, and then reveals that they're the villain. / not THE VILLAIN, but clone wren and ryker first meeting? maybe he assumes she's wren (maybe it's some combat situation before she has the chance to say), so she just does this when she says she's a clone

When he'd laid eyes on her, Ryker had felt genuine happiness for the first time in nearly two years. He'd heard the rumours, the whispered words: Shepard, the Hero of the Citadel, the first human Spectre and the Alliance's poster girl, had been killed in action. No information, no official statement to confirm or deny, Shepard had simply....disappeared. One of his best and truest friends - despite their differences - had vanished into the blackness of the galaxy.

He'd never admitted how much losing Wren had hurt. He never admitted that he'd stare at his omni-tool every night waiting to receive a message from her; praying that they could organise a meet-up 'for old times sake'. He never admitted that there was a pain in his heart every time he was reminded of her: every time he saw someone eating her favourite food, whenever he rode his motorbike to their favourite place or watched as another young person - someone too good for this life and deserving of so much more than he could offer - left to join the Alliance. She had been the reason he'd even began that initiative in the first place.

He'd certainly never admit how genuinely happy and relieved he'd felt when she'd gotten back in contact with him. He was supposed to be cold, ruthless, emotionless when need-be, but seeing that message pop up had made his heart hammer with joy. The request to meet up on Omega "to discuss a mission" had been a surprise, but Ryker couldn't find the ability to care about how strange it was: his friend was back, that's all that mattered. He'd travel to the edge of the galaxy if she asked him to.

As soon as he saw her he'd known something was wrong. Her eyes weren't right: there was a lack of something that he couldn't explain beyond it just not being Wren. There was a lack of natural warmth: it was somewhat there but it wasn't....right. He argued with himself that it was just a consequence of her job; that she must have seen something so disturbing that it had affected her on a deeper level than he could comprehend. But his gut knew that wasn't true: Wren would have to be cold in the ground before she lost that part of her.

The revelation was delayed. Moments after their reunion, they'd been thrown into a firefight. To Wren's credit, she had been trying to say something to him - to admit something - but she'd been interrupted. Also to her credit, she fought like he remembered; like he'd seen in the Alliance vids: everything superficial was right, was Wren, but he couldn't get past the feeling that he was standing beside an imposter.

When the last merc fell, Ryker found his face suddenly being framed by the hands of his friend. He looked into her eyes, into those oddly empty eyes, and listened as she spoke. He felt his stomach drop, his breath catch in his throat and the water build in the corner of his eyes. So it was true: his friend really was dead. The woman he adored - and never admitted his feelings to - was gone, and before him was a clone. A reconstruction. A mere imitation. His eyes grew dark, his jaw clenched and his face twisted into a snarl as the only emotion he understood - anger - flooded his system.

Before he could react though, he was pushed back into cover as another shot rang through the warehouse. The copy had just saved his life and turned to start fighting their supposedly common enemy. This time though, he didn't rush to help: Ryker just sat behind a crate and stared at the woman in front of him. Even as bullets pinged off his cover and threatened to hit their target, he remained still. He couldn't bring himself to move; couldn't stop himself from hoping one of the attackers finally improved their aim and either ended his life...or hers.

[dutyworn]

reblog this and put the reason behind your url and alias in the tags.

[dutyworn]

the most important part of writing, the absolute ironclad rule that has nothing to do with adjectives, adverbs or em dashes. ('show don't tell?' never heard of her) listen very VERY carefully to me when i tell you this. all that matters is you're a little freak who is horny sometimes

[dutyworn]

i feel like i'm in a very slow "go bald!" pipeline (i've been shaving undercuts on both sides since last summer, and reshaving them last night i also shaved a new one at my nape, and my reasoning every time i cut my hair is that if i fuck it up i can always just shave all of it off)

[dutyworn]

                                          @spectrien    /    cont. from ↷

She barely catches herself before she can roll her eyes at Kryik. He doesn’t seem the type to care about such things, nor is there technically  any chain of command  between them, as that’s not how Spectres work, but then again  —  Wren isn’t a Spectre yet, and hierarchy, knowing one’s place, and respectful manner towards her superiors is ingrained in her, after all her time with the Alliance. It’s not easy to act casual towards a... mentor, someone who’s assessing her, even if he’s kept tabs on her without her knowing it, for a longer time, to even put her name forward for the Specters.

No, it’s not a challenge, for her; just not something most people would start with, the target running away at a great distance. Of course, Nihlus is already aware of her skills with a sniper rifle.

Then he adds the crowd, as she’s setting up on her perch  —  she flashes him a grin, she can’t help herself  —  that’s more like it. Combat sims have always been fun for her, and the added pressure of being watched doesn’t change that; she loves this. It’s the adrenaline of the job without the stress, without the weight of people relying on her and the weight of killing. Her targets are pixels, not people.

She’s not used this specific model of a rifle before, but she feels like she’s in her element, nevertheless. No doubt he also wants to see her handle weapons that aren’t her own. It’s a strange mixture of confidence (she knows she can do this) and nervousness (first human Spectre is bigger than reaching for even N7 ever was). She adjusts the scope and clears her mind of everything but the present moment. Don’t risk civilians. Get the target. She is not one for reckless shots, would rather wait than risk it, if she’s not 100 percent that she won’t hurt a bystander; the salarian figure escapes to further distance, but when she makes the shot, it’s clear to his head and the figure instantly scatters.

❝ You’ll need to do better than that if you do want to challenge me. ❞

[dutyworn]

@anderwhohn said: "i can stay the night, y'know. if it'd make you feel better." (from Tali)

an old meme    /    PROBABLY ACCEPTING ↷

Tali’s offer catches Wren off-guard, and for a second she looks almost cornered, prey.

It’s her own vulnerability that scares her. Is it that transparent? Can her friends tell? However, most of all, she’s cornered and conflicted by her own feelings: the raw yearning for company. She doesn’t want to be alone, yet at the same time, the thought of letting someone, anyone, in, makes her want to flee.

❝ I’m fine, ❞    she says because she feels like she’s obligated to say that, mostly for her own peace of mind.    ❝ You don’t have to. But if you’d like to, we could... Maybe you can finally subject me to Fleet and Flotilla? ❞    Maybe if she frames it as friends spending time together, instead of Tali being there for her, she can stomach it. She suspects Tali can see right through her—  she doesn’t bother to mask her nervous body language. But she hopes Tali might still play along with what she’s saying, unsure if she can handle anything that’s more real.

[dutyworn]

i feel like my brain is only half on these days, so please don't think i'm disinterested if i take a long time replying ooc.

i basically feel like i have the brain power for either talking to people or writing replies, but not both, and i'm choosing to prioritise the latter. there is nothing you can do wrong with this at all - you can message me, i don't feel pressured to reply fast or overwhelmed reading messages, that's all good, i just wanted to. express that once again my cognitive abilities are not all peak condition so if i "ignore" you for days or weeks ooc, i intend to get back to you.

that said, gentle reminder that i vastly prefer discord for ooc chats; tumblr im box is tiny and difficult to focus on; my discord handle is waywarded and anyone can add me there.

[dutyworn]

Q.𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐒𝐓𝐔𝐃𝐘, TRAITS & CHARACTERISTICS!  ↳ bold = applies to your muse;  italics = conditional.

EYES :  blue  |  green  |  brown  |  hazel  |  gray  |  gray-blue |  other

HAIR :  blond  |  sandy  |  brown  |  black  |  auburn  |  ginger  |  multi-color  |  other

BODY TYPE :  skinny  | slender  |  slim  |  built  |  curvy  |  average  |  muscular  |  pudgy  |  overweight  |  athletic

SKIN : pale  |  light  |  fair  |  freckled  |  tan |  medium  |  dark  |  other

GENDER :  male  |  female  |  trans  |  cis  |  agender  |  demigender  |  genderfluid  |  other  

SEXUALITY :  heterosexual  |  homosexual  |  bisexual  |  pansexual  |  asexual  |  demisexual  |  other  |  unsure  |  doesn’t care for labels

ORIENTATION :  homoromantic  |  heteroromantic  |  biromantic  |  unsure  |  doesn’t care for labels  |  demiromantic

EDUCATION :  high school |  college  |  university |  master’s degree(s) |  PhD  |  other (no formal education after age 10 as a kid, GED as an adult through the military)

I'VE BEEN :  in love  |  hurt  |  ill  |  mentally abused  |  bullied  |  physically abused  |  tortured  |  brainwashed  |  shot  |  stabbed

POSITIVE TRAITS :  affectionate  |  adventurous  |  athletic  |  brave  |  careful  |  charming  |  confident  |  creative  |  cunning  |  determined  |  forgiving  |  generous  |  honest  |  humorous  |  intelligent  |  loyal  |  modest  |  patient  |  selfless  |  polite  |  down-to-earth  |  diligent  |  romantic  |  moral  |  fun-loving |  charismatic  |  calm

NEGATIVE TRAITS : aggressive  |  bossy  |  cynical  |  envious  |  shy  |  fearful  |  greedy  |  gullible  |  jealous  |  impatient  |  impulsive  |  cocky  |  reckless  |  insecure  |  irresponsible  |  mistrustful  |  paranoid  |  possessive  |  sarcastic  |  self-conscious  |  selfish  |  swears  |  unstable  |  clumsy  |  rebellious  |  emotional  |  vengeful  |  anxious  |  self-sabotaging  |  moody  |  peevish  |  angry  |  pessimistic  |  slacker  |  thin skinned  |  overly dramatic  |  argumentative

LIVING SITUATION :  lives alone  |  lives with parent(s) / guardian  |  lives with significant other  |  lives with a friend  |  drifter  |  homeless  |  lives with children / family  |  other (lives on military posts, spaceships, moves where the job takes her)

PARENTS / GUARDIANS : mother  |  father  |  adoptive  |  foster  |  grandmother  |  grandfather  |  other (orphan, ran away from an orphanage as a child)

SIBLING(S) :  sister(s)  |  brother(s)  |  other  |  none

RELATIONSHIP : single  |  crushing  |  dating  |  engaged  |  married  |  separated  |  it’s complicated  |  verse dependent

I HAVE A(N) :  learning disorder  |  personality disorder  |  mental/mood disorder  |  anxiety disorder  |  sleep disorder  |  eating disorder  |  behavioral disorder  |  substance-related disorder  |  PTSD  |  mental disability  |  physical disability

THINGS I'VE DONE : had alcohol  |  smoked/hookah  |  stolen  |  done drugs   |  self-harmed  |  starved  |  had sex  |  had a threesome  |  had a one-night stand  |  gotten into a physical fight  |  gone to a hospital  |  gone to jail  |  used a fake ID  |  played hooky  |  gone to a rave  |  killed someone  |  had someone try to kill them.

tagged by: @sunmad, thank you! tagging: steal it from me and say i tagged you!

[dutyworn]

@tohilt said: 🔰 - Do you have a favorite verse for your muse? Why? 🤝 - Would you befriend your muse if they were real?

Character Interview    /    ACCEPTING ↷

🔰 - Do you have a favorite verse for your muse? Why? :: I don't have a favourite in general - I like variety, and different verses for different reasons. Second game era is a good verse for unplotted canon interactions because it has a lot of interaction potential (she's not technically Alliance, and she's recruiting people) and her mental state is also deliciously messed up specifically in that timeline. I like the crossover verse for unplotted non-canon interactions because it can be used with people who know nothing about her canon and it can bet set literally anywhere, and I don't tend to get tired of the repetition of the premise.

I'm currently very fond of the squadmate verse (...which needs to be updated on the blog, accordingly) and consequently the vigilante (mercenary) verse, because I figured out soo many things for her for that recently, and it's a fun change of pace from her role in canon.

🤝 - Would you befriend your muse if they were real? :: I love her dearly, so yes, if she would befriend me. I'm maybe unexpectedly at ease at saying she would because she has a talent of being able to get along with almost everyone (I often think my muses would maybe tolerate me but would not particularly want to be close to me), and I know the question is whether I would befriend her but - that answer depends on how it would be the other way 'round, so.

Yes, I would like to be her friend, as long as being on her radar didn't get me killed by her gazillion enemies, or something. What's that? You think I'm overthinking it?

[dutyworn]

@teltinsurvivor said: 📌 - Do you think your type in muses is obvious? How would you describe your type?

Character Interview    /    ACCEPTING ↷

I may have a type for what sort of characters I am attracted to writing, but I don't think it's obvious (at least not to me?). If I had to name qualities a lot of the characters I write have, I would say...

unstablity in childhood or young adulthood and/or never having gotten to be a "child"

scared of letting themselves be specifically emotionally vulnerable

sees themselves as lower value or separate from other people

a good whumpee?????

Let me XD elaborate on the... I think I write many characters who just so happen to be somehow good for whump content for whatever reason. They make interesting victims for a variety of reasons. Wren? It's fun to see her break down because she's usually so put together and brave. I have other characters who are fun to see break down because of similar reasons (the Doctor, Castiel, Garrus, even Hannibal although his put together is in a villain rather than a hero manner) or because they are already really messed up (Will, Izzy, Iris). Whump is a favourite genre of mine so I guess that makes sense.

Or, maybe that's just me thinking "what would whump look like for this one" about everyone (but it's not even everyone, just... many of them).