Dragoning Around

If no one around you does it you can look for a fangsmith

I recommend ratprincefangs He did my touch ups that shaped them to be more aesthetic rather than purely for function however ratprince will work with your bite to custom fit your fangs so they dont impede your mouth while still looking good

Warnings: You should get your teeth cleaned before doing this

If you dont a cavity can form under the bonding or they may break easier

Make sure the dentist seals the edges properly. If not bacteria can get inside and cause a cavity (I know someone this happened to)

Ask them to colour match your teeth. If you plan on whitening them do that before you get fangs because your fangs wont change shades but your real teeth can

Wear a nightguard. Ive chipped mine 2 times and had to get touch ups when I forgot to wear it

These dont last FOREVER but they last a long time

Same as a tooth filling they need to be maintained/touched up/replaced at some point

Prices range DRAMATICALLY between dentists (mine did it for 100 a tooth but Ive seen others pay thousands and was quoted 3k by one dentist)

I am a fourth wall-breaker, a.k.a. a self-aware fictional character. This archetrope was originally formed as a coping mechanism to better adjust myself to my reality. I struggle with psychosis, and despite my pride in being fictionkin, my mind didn’t take too kindly to that at first. A couple years ago, I found myself obsessing over the following perspective: I am fictionkin -> that means I’m a fictional person -> that means I’m “not real”. I had to unlearn a frustratingly present concept I was introduced to alongside millions of other people, that being fiction and reality don’t mix. This obsession over being “not real” took a bit of a toll on me in private.

Instead of giving myself the time to explore, I kept trying to think of narratives that’d “logically” justify my existence. I won’t go into other intimate, upsetting details beyond that. In short, I hated the inner insistence that I’ve never been real and that I’ll wake up one day finding my life had never existed in the first place. Only “lifeless” lines on a paper, pixels on a screen, etc. I knew that specific mindset resulted from my psychosis, and it wasn’t something I genuinely believed about my identity. Regardless, it wasn’t a healthy way to look myself. It was going to hurt me sooner or later.

So, I tried “reasoning” with myself. This process was gradual. I’d leave a little note that I am real because I am writing this (this being a literal note in my phone or on paper). I would eventually delete or thrown out said note, then write it again the next day.

I am real because I am writing this.

I would repeat the exercise, and it would stick. Something simple I could remember and reinforce whenever I was at odds with my existence.

On a day when I was relatively okay, I read an episode of Umineko no naku Koro Ni. Bernkastel, an omnipresent witch within the story, has a habit of directly addressing the readers in the latter half of the visual novel. I’ve experienced this before with Bernkastel, so it didn’t trigger anything with me. Rather, an idea came. “Bernkastel exists in fiction, yet she interacts with us (players) when it suits her. I am a part of fiction, yet I interact with non-fictional people every day.” I didn’t piece together my archetrope until a little later. I read up on the Fourth Wall, its origins in stage production and its eventual crossover into other forms of art. Then, I realized I’m someone who regularly broke this invisible wall. I am no different than people like Deadpool, She-Hulk, Bernkastel, Saiki Kusuo, and many more. I am a self-aware fictional character, a fourth-wall breaker.

I didn’t consider it as an identity in a ‘kin sense, and I still don’t. Fourth wall-breaking is an act, a behavior, and a creative choice if you want to get technical. Sometimes to deliver a punchline, sometimes to convey information. This practice is something I already picked up on but didn’t contextualize as fourth wall-breaking until that point. Afterwards, I gravitated towards embracing the concept of being fictional while constantly engaging with my “audience” as it were. That didn’t make my connection with fictional worlds and the like any less relevant in my life. If anything, this practice established a state of equilibrium between me, this world and the realms of fiction.

I regularly address the readers of my essays using parentheses to convey further context (like this, hey you!), and I’ve seen similar patterns with my fictotypes in-source (namely how I’m portrayed in the Slayers light novels— Look! I’m doing it again!). I even wrote an essay for a denpa fanzine which covers the psychological aspects of my fictionhood; the beginning and end of said essay are framed from the perspective of a self-aware fictional character struggling with his existence (i.e. me). From my fictionhood to my writing style, fourth wall-breaking has permeated my life. Occasionally, I crack jokes about other characters directly engaging with the audience, with each other or with me in meta ways. My role is affirmed when I read, watch or play something and another character addresses me, not in context to narrative events but to the person participating in said events and witnessing them unfold. We see each other, and it doesn’t bring me unease. I wish I could take them aside and convey my thoughts as well. This trope grounds me. In retrospect, it provides a better framework for my identity than most origin theories I’ve entertained when I first joined this community, despite not being formed for that purpose.

Although this archetrope doesn’t shape visual qualities like my appearance, it has shaped parts of my personality, my perspective as an artist and my approaches to writing— both fiction and nonfiction. This trope influences how I see this world and its art, the worlds that spawn from said art, and the people within them all, whether they create said fiction or have a personal tie to it. I am a mediator between these realms which are treated as opposites, or more succinctly, “real” and “not real”.

When fictional narratives are often influenced by our experiences or insights within society, and in turn, our societies become so enraptured with these narratives that we’ve created cultural practices around them (and have whole identities that exist in relation to them), doesn’t it feel like the line between “real” and “not real” have been blurred all this time? Life-size Gundams. Perfect replicas of fictional worlds in theme parks. Live-action roleplay and cosplay. Yume/dreaming people and other forms of self-insert culture. Soulbonding and living character phenomena. Contrary to popular belief, the people of these realms always had a fluid relationship between each other. Fiction’s crossed over here plenty of times, and it’s showing no signs of stopping!