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starshipsofstarlord · 3 years

Text

There was a Girl...

Pairing | Jace Wayland x reader

Summary | When Clary becomes a shadowhunter, she notices how cold and ruthless Jace is. Every one seems to relate to his pain, not resonating at quite the same level. They’re all mourning nevertheless.

Warnings | Mentions of death, brief smut (handjob), angst, heartbreak, unrequited feelings (for Clary)

Requested ✖️

Quick link to my masterlist, if you’re interested in reading more of my crap 😬

Opening your eyes, you awoke to Jace's chest, his blonde hair falling over his face. You preferred how it looked when it was a little bit scruffy instead of slicked back, and you reached for one of the hanging strands. They were like seams of gold, reflecting from the light that hid within him.

Most people had the wrong perspective on the young man, they only saw a well skilled shadow hunter. But they ignored the smart and witty, yet simultaneously charming person that he was underneath all of his runes. His parabatai Alec was familiar with the set of abilities that his brother figure had, and all that he would accomplish. People thought, because of Jace’s distorted, and confusing past, that he was just another warrior to serve whatever institute that he was sent to.

But in fact, he was not. His duty would always be, to put his family and friends first. He liked to put you on the top of the list, but you always felt the need to scrap that idea, claiming that you could not be his priority from start to finish. It was as though you knew what you future held for you, and how indeed, he could not manage to protect every person that he cared about. The prospect was a great responsibility, far too much for one shadow hunter, even if they be among the best of their kind.

To put such a weight on your own shoulders was defiantly cruel, it would always end in failure, no matter what was done to prevent said downfall. There was never a possibility of saving everyone, that was insanity. The monsters had to kill, in order for you all to remain outside of Idris, and continue on with your heaven sent duty.

“Jace?” You could tell he was awake from how he smiled at the sound of your voice. “Come on.” It was an attempt to encourage him, but you were quick to realise that it wasn’t working. He didn’t like mornings all that much, for good reason too, after all you were shadowhunters.

“Jace.” Your voice became louder and clearer, up to the point where it no longer sounded like your own. He looked away from the screen, to see the new girl watching him. She had an expectant glaze to her green eyes, which were much different from the shield that was covering his own. His pools were surrounded by a shadow of grief, pulling down the entirety of his face to the point where it looked as though he no longer wanted to live.

And that wasn’t entirely incorrect, he struggled at life, often never finding a moment of happiness, and if he did, then he would paint a smile upon his face and wear it to satisfy everyone else around. He had tried to cope with the loss that burdened his heart so gravely, yet nothing made it feel okay. You’d want him to move on, whether it be to lose his vengeful esteem concerning your passing, or find someone else to confide in late at night, to stay up with talking as his head rested upon the pillow, that he needed to wash, so it didn’t smell like you.

Or even, if not to share a bed with this new person, your overall plan as you sat with the angels above would be to find some kind of peace. But that appeared to be the last thing that he wanted as he digitally scoured the city of New York for monsters to uncover, and kill. If he couldn’t protect you, the love of his life, then he would settle for doing so with humans, after all, that had been the way that you had gone. The job had been your passion, yet simultaneously your downfall, and he’d be fine if one of these days he failed to tackle a beast, and it got to him first.

“Clary.” He greeted her, wanting to remove a dangerous monster from the streets by decapitating it. In memory, he would use your favourite blade, spilling blood upon its glowing stake to keep your legacy continuing, although, it did not do much but serve to release Jace’s frustrations. It was a day in which he wanted to speak to nobody, have nobody following him, nor asking him mundane questions about what it meant to be a shadowhunter. Hell, he didn’t even know! To him, the lifestyle was nothing more than accommodated anguish, though, he had been told not to promote it using those words, otherwise, there wouldn’t exactly be many people lining up to join the adverse fight.

And one of the people that he had in mind concerning excitement over a dire and ‘exciting’ lifestyle was Clary. She was naive, and whilst she didn’t know everything, today wasn’t particularly the day in which he wished to explain it to her. It, being predominantly anything. Whilst he had managed to be nice to her during the first few days, it was out of courtesy, considering Alec had an instant distaste towards the wide eyed redhead; he wasn’t sure why, but he supposed that Clary could see a detail of himself that was hidden from the others.

However, even through Jace’s welcoming exterior, was in pain. The feeling tormented him, denying him a break from the patronising pressure, leaving him to hold blame to nobody but himself. The hurt was cemented into his eyes, reflecting as he watched all other tragedies with a stone cold expressions, them hardly affecting him, because he had and was experiencing the worst routine of torture that was possible to him. He had watched you die, and nothing could take those horrific memories from him, no matter how much he wanted them gone.

That was the last time that he saw you. When you passed in his arms, a large wound in your abdomen pouring out with blood, drowning his desperate hands as he tried his utmost to put pressure on the life threatening injury. He wanted to save you but he didn’t know how, his training had always claimed that killing the monsters was more important than saving the life of a shadowhunter from an unknown bloodline. There had been nothing to prepare him for that day in the field, he was a fighter, and taught to be so, not a healer; he wasn’t a medic, he was just a warrior. “What do you want?” Blatantly fell from his round lips as he cast an eye towards the newbie, unimpressed by her timing, or her presence at all.

Clearly, she hadn’t received the memo to leave him be, especially today out of all the rest. Alec, having the personalised intel as to why Jace was emitting a solitary rut understood why he wished to be alone, and respected the space, granting him as much time to himself as he wanted. And whilst Alec was your friend also, he could feel the deep longing that was stabbing his parabatai in the chest, and it killed him too. Your death had been so unexpected, and now without you, there was a void within the institute. And the archer felt as though Clary was trying to fill it, and he saw that as nothing more than disrespect, though she was probably ignorant to the history that wandered the halls.

Her face revelled back at his tone, but nevertheless she continued on with her prying. “I was wondering if I could join you on the hunt, I’m getting better, Izzy even said so.” Jace refrained from rolling his eyes, and contained the feeling that was trying to burst out of his chest. It was anger, directed at everyone that was still alive, including himself. There was no fairness in it, to say that he was sad was an understatement, he was eternally devastated, the death of you had broken him, crumbled him into a figure that he no longer recognised.

“No, you can’t Clary.” He dismissed her, walking away, and going to grab his seraph so that he could hunt this sucker down, and bring upon the same kind of pain to its family as its kind had down to him. God, did you look badass as you swung it, and the thought alone had tears resonating in his unmatched eyes, thinking of how it was the last relic that remained of you.

Walking casually into the armoury, Jace had his hands prized in the depths of his pockets, as his expert and quick fleeting eyes focalised on you, and the weapon within your hold. Your body leant in harmony with the blade, the sound of it woosh-img in the air satisfying to all that could hear; that being only you and the Wayland boy.

“Can i not train in peace?” You groaned, lowering the blade whence you realised that you were being watched. The eyes trailed up your side where your shirt had ridden up, raking over the rune that you had drew upon your skin only this morning. A light laugh fell from Jace’s lips as he stalked forward, taking your seraph out of your hand, and going to lob it upon the ground, but the stern look in your eyes stopped him. Instead, against his nature, he placed it down as though it were made of glass, and rose to stand before you once more.

“Not when you look that good.” The blonde retorted with a sly smirk, sliding his hands up the sides of your hips, finding absolute solace in the feel of your skin. He could be against you forever, and he would not complain, so long as it did last for such a time. “Makes me want to do things to you y/n y/l/n. Terrible things. What would the heads think?” He asked, in reference to those that were in charge of the institute.

Stifling down remarked laughter at his sensually intended words, you raised your forefinger to the space above his brows, and poked him with enough pressure, so that he would pay attention to the notion. “That you’re not thinking with your own.” You went to cross your arms, but instead, Jace grabbed them, moving down to cast his hand over your own.

“Oh, I’m not.” The shadowhunter confirmed, placing your hand upon the crotch of his sweats, applying enough force behind his grip so that you could feel him twitching. “I am indeed having thoughts from elsewhere, would you like to see my sweet?” Licking your lips, you nodded, watching as he peeled the layer away, wrapping your hand around his base, and giving him a few jerks, feeling his pulse race through his cock.

“Tell me more about what you’re thinking my love.” You bit your bottom lip, fluttering your eyelashes up at him, only to reverberate a groan from the blonde male. He panted as your pace quickened, and he was almost certain that he was going to spray his jizz all over the floor if you did not uphold your sexual administrations. His head leant back, as pleasured sounds broke through the clenching of his teeth.

And then, it all stopped as a voice, dressed in absolute disgust, written over with unmotivated shock, interrupted your little exchange. “Really guys, this is a gym, not your damned bedroom. The two of you really are disgusting!” It was Alec, and he cringed at the fact that he had seen his best friend’s cock being stroked in your grasp. Yeah, he wasn’t going to be training today, or at least, not in the asserted place for it.

“Clary.” Izzy called her name, wearing a short lived smile. Whence she studied the expression of the redhead, she was quick to pay attention to the disappointment upon her face. There was confusion laddered in her skin, masking it with creased that made her look worried all at the same time. “What happened?” The Lightwood woman asked concerned, bracing a hand upon said girl’s shoulder.

“Jace snapped at me.” The newcomer informed her, frowning at the prospect, and then after all that, he had stormed off, as though she didn’t even matter. She felt well and truly rejected, like a newspaper that had been tossed in the street, and ending up in a horrible puddle. “I thought he might have liked me, but his attitude says otherwise.”

Izzy twitched her nose; she knew what day it was. There was no way to break it to Clary easy that Jace had no amorous emotions towards her, and so instead of being blunt with the new resident at the institute, she decided to tell the woman a story. “There was a girl...” she began, knowing that after all was explained, that Clary would understand.

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genshingarbage · 3 years

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hoii, is it okay if I request something with Diluc and Kaeya ? like, gn!reader feels very alone and unloved, because they can't make/keep friends and their family doesn't pay much attention to them ?

and if it's not too much, can the men be like big brother or father figures to the reader ?

it's okie if you don't want to write it!

have a good day/night ♡

This is too cute. Bless. Both I and Mod Kaeya worked together on this one, take a guess who wrote for who lmao hope this is okay sweetie! - Mod Diluc

I'll Always Care.

|| One - Shot ||

Kaeya / Diluc

Diluc

The sun was beating down like normal, the heat was unbearable and it was making you itch and sweat like nobodies business. You felt stuffy and so uncomfortable, but maybe you could give the sun a break from your insults; because deep down it wasn't the sun making you feel like utter nothingness right now. It was the fact you yet again were reminded of the harsh fact that no one cares for you, not even your own mother can pretend to wear a smile around you.

First your mother sighed and brushed you off this morning like a pestering bug, and to rub insult to injury your small group of friends (if you could even call them that.) Had conveniently forgotten to secure a place for you to go with them all on their expedition today. So here you were alone, curled up with your knees pressed against your chest and your eyes closed as to try prevent the threat of tears: despite you trying to convince yourself it's just to block the sunlight, even though you're under a tree that's already blocking the sun indefinitely.

You felt the pain sinking further inside you now and it just stung worse and worse. Why? Why do you always get forgotten about... why do they never care how you're feeling? No one seems to understand you ever. Was this world even meant for someone like you? You debated it sometimes, but all it ever did was work you up more into a crying mess because even if you'd conclude you're better off dead- you'd never have the guts to kill yourself; and you'd be way too terrified to let someone or something else do it for you.

Your head sunk further into your arms that coiled round your frail frame as you began to sniffle and sob softly. Your ears were ringing and your head was hurting so much from how much you'd been on and off crying the past two hours by yourself, nothing but the breeze and butterflies to keep you company in your own misery. Life was cruel, and you were starting to resent it in a whole. But all you could so was curl up and cry like you always do, why can you never fix yourself? Stupid.

You practically leaped out your skin however, shooting your head up fast, almost giving yourself whiplash from the force you done it at. The squeeze on your shoulder was most unexpected and most definitely an understatement to how shaken up you were. You felt the scream aching in your throat about to fly out your lips when you saw who it was, Diluc. His crimson eyes staring down at you, the matching hair tied neatly into a ponytail behind him. His claymore resting on his shoulder effortlessly.

"Why are you crying Y/N?" He spoke sternly, but under that tone you could hear the concern in his voice; as poorly as he was at showing his emotions on a day to day basis. You sniffed hard, an involuntarily rub of your eyes and nose following behind as you blinked away the tears quickly. "I- I'm not. Just resting is all." You wanted to cringe at your poor excuse there yourself, your voice was wavering in tone and cracking so badly, why did you even bother to lie?

He let out a deep sigh before slipping his claymore off his shoulder and swinging it in a circle before letting it peirce into the dirt, securing its position he let it go and stepped next to you, bending down and taking a seat beside you now. Inviting himself into your private affairs had become common ground for you now, then it hit you. He is always around when you feel at your lowest. You looked at him with a bewildered expression, eyebrow raised. The look of utter confusion evident on your face.

Finally he turned his head to you and then looked forward again, one of his knees lifting up for him to rest his arm on, the other sliding round the back of your neck and gently pulling you into his chest. You were confused at first, but then it hit you, he was hugging you and comforting you, in his best efforts at least. You laid there against him, cuddled up to him, your head pounding, your throat sore from crying, your eyes stinging. Face flushed red from your inner rage. You really looked like a mess right now.

"Rest. You need it. When someone's cried at lot it helps to get rest after." He spoke matter of fact like to you. You lifted your head ever so slightly about to attempt another pitiful protest, but his hand came up to your head and softly stroked through your hair. "Rest." He added. That silenced you and simply closed your eyes, feeling not so alone anymore and at actually at ease. He always helps you feel better, no matter how small of an action it was.

He always makes you feel loved and cared for, if you could describe Diluc in one word, it would be big brother. He really was like a big brother to you, always there to cheer you up and make you feel better, always there to remind you that you're not as alone as you always think you are. He's always kept you safe and always put you first before himself even sometimes. A smile crept onto your face ever so slightly when all of this was resurfaced in your mind.

You truly were grateful to have a friend like Diluc, even if you have no one else that's by your side, he is, and he always will be. "Thank you." You muttered the words ever so softly and breath like, as you'd mutter them out in your sleep, while your head rested against his chest. His eyes slowly trailed to the side, looking down at your peaceful sleeping state. His hand still stroking through your hair as it kept you huddled up to him. Not that you'd ever see it or know of it, a small smile made its way onto his lips too.

"Sweet dreams, Y/N".

Kaeya

The lanky man found you in his guest bedroom, knees tucked under you chin with a cloak of thick duvets framing your clearly exhausted face. He sighed softly before beginning to pat over to you, chocolate milk in hand and heart on his sleeve.

Once you’d noticed him making his way over you shifted under the blankets to let him crawl into the little cave you’d constructed yourself. He placed the glass onto the night stand, interrupting the somber silence of the room with a gentle clink of glass against hardwood, then turned to you in order to pull you into his broad chest. He gently rubbed your back as his icy eyes observed the room with it’s askew drawers and new adornments of thrown pillows and tossed weapons or tools. The gentle moonlight pouring in from the still open curtain, tarnishing the peachy walls a soft periwinkle blue only telling him of the sadness you were feeling.

“You can stay here as long as you need.”

“I know Sir Kaeya.”

Your sniffles broke his heart a little, the way you buried your head into his nightshirt even more so. You were some sort of enigma to him. Like a puzzle he couldn’t solve yet was made of pieces of a mirror he had shattered.

You reminded him so much of how he was after Diluc had…well…

The blue haired man pulled you closer to him to bury his nose in your hair, beginning to frown, “Will you tell me what happened?”

“It is not really what has happened and more what keeps happening honestly.” Your voice was muffled slightly but he could still hear it clearly through your tight words forcing their way out of your throat. You didn’t really have the heart to tell him that since you became an adventurer your parents had all but kicked you out because they didn’t want to deal with the likely chance you wouldn’t be making any sort of money with your dream job. Your friends had began to leave one by one with teasing remarks about joining your adventure team or horrific monsters, leaving to study in far off corners of the world.

You were completely and utterly alone, with only Kaeya at your side. It didn’t take the feeling of his arms tightening around you to tell you he could already sense what you were thinking about.

“They weren’t your family or friends if they simply tossed you aside y’know? You should not spare them another thought.” He muttered this softly into your hair, hoping you could somehow find comfort in his backwards way of thinking. As much as he wanted to toughen you up…he didn’t want you to become him.

He’s well aware of your plights, has been since you were a kid and he was a fresh young face in the knights even if he doesn’t necessarily know what happened today to cause you to spiral into such a state. Maybe that’s why he took you in. He’d ponder over it as he tucked you in, brushing your hair out of your face afore lightly stepping out of the room to leave you to sleep finally.

#kaeya #diluc #genshin blog #genshinimpact #genshin #genshin fanfic blog #kaeya fic #diluc fic #kaeya fanfic #diluc fanfic #kaeya x reader #diluc x reader #kaeya oneshot #diluc oneshot #diluc fluff #kaeya fluff

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scorpionyx9621 · 3 years

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Do you think Jason Todd fandom is kinda toxic? Because it seems like NO MATTER what DC do, there'll always be complains. Forget the bad adaptation like Titans. Even Judd Winick cannot escape the criticism with how he potrayed Robin!Jason. They just never satisfied.

SORRY, IT TOOK ME SO LONG TO RESPOND TO THIS. I just moved from Washington D.C. to Seattle, which, for my non-American friends, that's 4442km away. And I DROVE THERE ALL BY MYSELF. And now I'm trying to find new work in a new city and trying to stay mentally healthy and positive. Life is exciting but hard and scary.

*sighs*

As someone who was a fandom elder with V*ltr*n. I've seen some of the worst when it comes to fandom behavior. I'm talking people baking food with shaving razors and trying to give them to the showrunners. I'm talking leaking major plot details and refusing to take it down unless they make their ship canon (I am looking at you, Kl*nce stans) For the most part, DC Comics has had a decades-long reputation of treating their fans like trash and not caring what they think so from what I've seen, we all just grumble and complain in our corners of the internet about how we don't like how X comic portrays Jason Todd.

The challenge with Jason Todd is that he's your clinical anti-hero, the batfamily's Draco in Leather Pants, he's a jerkass woobie, and on top of all of that, he's a Tumblr sexyman. It's a perfect storm for a very fun but frustrating character to be a fan of. It doesn't help that every writer decides to re-invent the wheel every time Jason comes up so his canon lore is confusing at best and inconsistent as a standard.

I guess starting with a general brief on who Jason is and what is uniform about him with every instance he's appeared in comics/media.

Grew up in a poor family in Gotham with a dad who was a petty-mid-level criminal, and a mother who dies of a drug overdose.

Survives on the street on his own by committing petty crimes and potentially even engaging in sexual acts to keep himself alive.

Is cornered by Batman and taken in after Dick Grayson quits/is fired

Becomes the second Robin, but is known for being the harsher, more brutal Robin.

Is killed by Joker after being tortured, but somehow comes back to life and regains senses through the Lazarus Pit

Resolves himself to be better than Batman by basically being Batman but kills people.

Where there has been a lot of conflict in the fandom is the fact that Jason Todd is not a character that is written consistently. DC Comics loves to go with the narrative that Jason was "bad from the start" and was the "bad robin" when, yes, he has trouble controlling his anger, but he also still is just as invested in seeing the best of Gotham City and trying to be a positive change for the world as any other DC Comics hero.

Where I get frustrated with the fandom is its ability to knit-pick every detail of a comic they don't like while completely disregarding everything that makes the comics great and worth it to read. My example being Urban Legends. To which most people had pretty mixed reactions to. I was critical of the comic at first but as it went along I ended up really liking it. I have a feeling DC Comics went to Chip Zdarsky and told him he had 6 issues to bring Jason back into the Bat Family, and honestly he didn't do a bad job. Did it feel rushed? Absolutely. I wish there was more development of Jason and Bruce's characters and their dynamic as a whole. However, where I see a lot of people being angry and upset with Urban Legends is that they feel Zdarsky needlessly wrote Jason as an incompetent fool who needs Bruce to save him.

Whether or not that was the intention of Zdarsky is up to debate. However, and this may be controversial, but I don't think he wrote Jason Todd out of character at all. For as fearsome, intimidating, and awesome as Red Hood is. Jason is a character who is absolutely driven by his emotions. Why do you think he donned the role of Red Hood? As a response to his anger towards The Joker for killing him, and towards Bruce for not taking action against The Joker and for seemingly replacing him so quickly after he died. Jason didn't care about being the murderous Robin Hood or for being the bloody hammer of justice against N*zi's and P*d*ph*les. He only cared originally about making The Joker and Bruce pay. It wasn't until he trained under the best assassins in the world and realized most of them were horrific criminals who trafficked children and were p*dos that Talia began to realize that the teachers that she sent Jason to train under started dying horrific and painful deaths.

The entire story of the Cheer story in Batman Urban Legends was started because it finally forced some consequences upon Jason. Tyler, aka Blue Hood's father was a drug dealer who gave his supply to his wife and kids. And when Tyler's father admitted he gave the drugs to Tyler, it immediately made him fall within the self-imposed philosophical kill-list of Jason Todd. And Jason, well, he proceeds to kill Tyler's father. When this happens, Jason is in shock. Tyler's dad fit the bill to easily and justifiably be killed by Jason. We've never seen Jason having to deal with the consequences of being a murderous vigilante on a micro-level. When Jason realizes what he's done in that he's murdered Tyler's dad, he's shocked. He tells Babs the truth. He does a rational thing because he's in shock. He doesn't know what to do, he never has had to face the consequences of his actions as Red Hood and now the gravity of befriending a child as a vigilante hero who kills people just set in when he killed the father of the same child he was just introduced to.

(Oh here's a little aside because it had to be said, Jason would not have been a good father or a good mentor to Tyler and absolutely should not have been his new Robin. Jason is a man who is in his early 20's (not saying men in their early 20's can't be good fathers at all) who is a brutal serial killer using the guise of a vigilante anti-hero to let him escape most of the law. the complications of having the man who murdered your father adopt you and make you his sidekick are way too numerous for me to explain in a long-winded already heavy Tumblr essay post. There's a reason why we don't advocate for a story where Joe Chill adopted Bruce Wayne or one where Tony Zucco took in Dick Grayson.)

The next biggest argument is that they feel that Jason is giving up his guns as a means to just be invited back into the Bat-Family. To which I will tell anyone who has that argument to go actually read Urban Legends. Already have and still have that argument? Please re-read it. Don't want to? That's okay, I will paste the images from the comic where Jason specifically says that he doesn't want to give up his weapons for Bruce and his real reasoning down below since the comic isn't exactly readily accessible.

Jason gave up the guns because he felt the gravity of what he had done and knows how it'll effect Tyler. Thankfully his mom is alive and in recovery. But Tyler doesn't have a father anymore. And Jason killed Tyler's father. It may have been in accordance to Jason's philosophy, but it was a case where it blurred the lines. Jason Todd isn't a black and white character, just very dark gray. He doesn't kill aimlessly like the Joker. If you are on Jason's list you probably have done something pretty horrific, and also just in general, being in his way or being a threat to him. Mind you, in early days of Red Hood and the Outlaws (Image below) Jason almost killed 10 innocent civilians in a town in Colorado all because they saw him kill a monster. That being said, Jason isn't aimless in his kills.

(Also can we just take a moment to appreciate Kenneth Rocafort's art? DC Comics said we need to rehabilitate Jason Todd's image and Kenneth Rocafort said hold my beer: It's so SO GOOD)

That being said, the key emphasis in the story of Cheer asides from trying to introduce Jason Todd back into the Bat Family and give an actual purpose for him being there, other than him just kind of being there ala Bowser every time he shows up for Go Kart racing, Tennis, Golf, Soccer, and the Olympic games when Mario invites him, is that Jason and Bruce ultimately both want the same thing. Jason wants to be welcomed back into the family and to be loved and appreciated. Bruce want's Jason back as his son and wants to love and protect Jason. Both of these visions are shown in the last chapter of Cheer while under the effect of the Cheer Gas. It's ultimately this love and appreciation they both have for each other that helps them overcome their challenge and win.

Jason Todd is a character who, just like Bruce, has been through so much pain and so much hate in his life. The two are meant to parallel each other. While Bruce chose to see the best in everyone, giving every rogue in his gallery the option to be helped and give them a second chance, hence why he never kills, Jason has a similar view on wanting to protect the public, but he understands that some crimes are so heinous they cannot be forgiven, or that some habitual criminals are due to stay habitual criminals, and need to be put down. But at the end of the day, the two of them both try to protect people in their own ways.

I am aware that through the writings of various DC Comics authors such as Scott Lobdell and Judd Winick, the two have had a very tumultuous relationship. And rightfully so, I am by no means saying that Scott Lobdell writing an arc where Bruce literally beats Jason to within an inch of his life in Red Hood and the Outlaws, nor Judd Winick's interpretation of Under the Red Hood where Bruce throws the Batarang at Jason's neck, slicing his throat and leaving him ambiguously for dead at the end of the comic is appropriate considering DC Comics seems to be trying everything they can to integrate Jason back into the family. That being said, a lot of these writings have shaped the narrative of Jason and Bruce's relationship and have an integral effect on the way the fandom views the two. It doesn't help that Zdarsky acknowledged Lobdell's life-beating of Jason by Bruce at the very end of Cheer by having Bruce give Jason his old outfit back as a means of mending the fence between the two of them. That does complicate a lot of things in terms of how they are viewed by the fandom and helps to cause an even greater divide between the two.

Regardless, I want to emphasize the fact that Jason Todd is a part of the family of his own accord. Yes, he's quite snarky and deadpan in almost every encounter. However, Jason is absolutely a part of the family and has been for a while of his own will. There's a great moment in Detective Comics that emphasizes this. Jason cares about his family because it is his found family. Yes, they may be warry about him and use him as a punching back and/or heckle him. At the end of the day, we're debating the family dynamics of a fictional playboy billionaire vigilante whose kleptomania took the form of adopting troubled children and turning them into vigilante heroes. Jason Todd wants a family that will love and support him. This is a key definition of his character at its most basic. This was proven during the events of Cheer and is being reenforced by DC Comics every time they get the opportunity to do so.

Now, none of this is to say that I hate Judd Winick. I do not, I don't like the fact that in all of his writings of Jason, he just writes him as a dangerous psychopath, and Winick himself admits to seeing Jason as nothing much more than a psychopath. Yet Winick is the one who the majority of the fandom clings to as the one true good writer of Jason Todd because 'Jason was competent, dangerous, smart' Listen, friends, Jason is all of that and I will never deny it. However, what I love about Jason isn't that he's dangerously smart of that writers either write him as angsty angry Tumblr sexyman bait or that they write him as an infantile man child with a gun. There's a large contention of this fandom that has an obsession with Jason Todd being this vigilante gunman who is hot and sexy and while I definitely get the appeal. It is very creepy and downright disturbing that all of you hyperfixate on his use of guns and ability to be a murderer. It is creepy and I'm not necessarily here for it.

What I love about Jason Todd is that despite all of the pain, all of the heartache, all of the betrayal, and bullying, and death, and anguish. Jason Todd is one of the most loving and supportive characters in all of DC Comics. Jason has been through so much in his life, but he still chooses to love. He still chooses to see the bright side in people. Yes, he takes a utilitarian approach and chooses to kill certain villains, but at the end of the day he wants to see a better world, and he wants to be loved. It takes so much courage and so much heart to learn to love again after one has been abused or traumatized. I would not blame Jason at all if he said fuck it and just went full solo and vigilante evil. He has every right to, but he still chooses to be with the Bat Family of his own accord. That's something that I see a lot of in myself. I have been through a lot of trauma and yet I try to be a better person myself in any way that I can. It is extremely admirable of Jason to allow love back into his heart when he really doesn't need to. He kills and he protects because he has this love of society. It may have been shaped by anger and hatred, but Jason has found his place amongst people who love him and value him. I think Ducra, from Red Hood and the Outlaws put it best in the image given below.

To end this tangent, I love Jason Todd and all of his sexy dangerousness, but it's far more than that. As much as Jason may be dangerous and snarky, he loves his family without a shadow of a doubt. I look up to Jason Todd because despite all of his pain and all of his trauma, he still choses to love. Jason Todd is a character who is someone I love because despite all of his flaws and having a very toxic fandom, he still serves as a character filled with so much heart and so much passion. I wish more writers would understand that. But for now I will live with what I have. Even though the fandom may be vocal about it's hatred for his characterization, I choose to love Jason regardless because he is a character who chooses love and acceptance regardless of his pain. Jason Todd is by no means a good person in any sense of the word. He has easily killed upwards of 100 people by now. He is a character who is flawed and complex but ultimately is one who powers forwards and finds love and heart in a place from so much pain and anguish. That is what I love about Jason Todd. After all, to quote a famous undead robot superhero, "What is grief, if not love persevering?" Jason Todd chooses to love despite all of the trauma and pain and grief. Yes, he is hardened in his exterior, but inside there is a man with a lot of love to give and someone who deserves the world in my eyes.

#Long post GOD #Jason Todd #Red Hood #Bat Family #Batman #red hood and the outlaws #RHATO #RH:O #Batman Urban Legends #Red Hood Lost Days #TW Voltron #TW Death #tw murder #TW Klance #Gotta love how i am pouring my heart out onto jason AND calling out the Voltron fandom #Regardless love Jason Todd people

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gentlemancrow · 3 years

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idk if you’re still taking requests so no pressure but maybe jmart 18 about jon’s scars? or,,, honestly however you wanna interpret that lol

Hehe bet you thought you weren't getting one. But of COURSE you're getting one! <3 HERE YOU GO!! Sorry it is late I am not a fast writer haha! This was a VERY interesting one to interpret and I got a little wonky and metaphysical there for a bit WHICH I LOVE and THE IDEA MIGHT HAVE BEEN A BIT LONG FOR A DRABBLE BUT! It's soft and I'm soft and I enjoyed this one SO SO MUCH ; w ; I hope you do too!!

Jon had Seen enough. Martin had decided that long ago. He had witnessed enough, been forced to witness enough, been the vessel into which literally everything had funneled into in an unrelenting typhoon of unspeakable, unfathomable horrific knowledge comprehensible only to him long enough that he damn well deserved the luxury of imperception. He had earned the right to not notice when Martin accidentally bought the wrong brand of chai, the one he insisted tasted like someone rubbed a stick of cinnamon on plasterboard and jammed it in a cardamom pod, but honestly tasted just like the one he preferred. The universe, whichever one they happened to be in now, owed him not realizing the buttons on his cardigan were one off until they were about to head out and Martin had to fix them, fingers humming with the warmth of him lingering in the cashmere every time. He deserved to forget his keys and then also have to go back to check that their flat door was locked twice, just to be sure. He deserved tossing cabbage in the trolley at the market, only to get home and realize it was a head of iceberg lettuce instead, and also he had completely forgotten the onion anyway so back he would have to go. Tiny and insignificant, patently human foibles that any normal person might tally up to a really rotten day overall and gripe about over a glass of Châteauneuf-du-Pape he had won as gleaming, pyrrhic badges on the ruins of his humanity yanked back from the claws of the yawning, devouring dark matter of the cosmos and stitched painstakingly back together with love.

But mostly Jon deserved to not notice the way people looked at him.

He need not see the painted-on expressions of strangers that ran the gamut from quiet pity, to voyeuristic curiosity, to outright revulsion that Martin could not help but see everywhere they went. They had no idea. Not even the slightest inkling of what, exactly, had composed that magnum opus of horror and pain scarred resplendently on his flesh, his bones, his sinews and synapses. To even try know was to go mad, the mind looping through and around and between consciousness and logic and love and fear and philosophy and metacognition until it squeezed into an ouroboros black hole singularity of dense unknowing that collapsed in on itself and perished in cataclysm. They had merely gotten lucky that being extruded through the plumbings of creation seemed to straighten out their fibers enough to be woven back into the fabric of reality, but they were too kinked and snagged and gnarled to ever lay fully flat again. And that was why they stared.

The invasive beings of Jon and Martin had come to mutual terms with it long ago, but they also knew they would be forever incongruous with an innocent world, with a world where they did not belong and that collectively looked at them both like an ontological cancer, benign but festering and ugly. They would never know the thing that crouched behind the stars with pointed knees and elbows that even then, groped to find their new world in the lightless vast, and Jon deserved to not perceive any hints of that either. He deserved their quiet, their peace, their wordless human acceptance.

Jon deserved to be innocently chewing a periwinkle-painted thumbnail in front of the ice cream counter, just as he was that gossamer spring afternoon, turning woeful and forever mismatched brown and green eyes at his husband and asking if he should get mint chip or rum raisin before deciding, actually, could he have a sample of the salted caramel ribbon first? He pointed eagerly at the various frozen tubs behind the glass with his gnarled right hand, where the fingers never did quite open or close properly again, and missed in his wonderment at the veritable cornucopia of sweet delights available to him the mingled look of pity and horror on the cashier’s face as she doled out samples at his request. Martin lurked protectively behind, silent, sentinel, seeing it all, a hot brand of fury boring its way through his chest as he glared icy blue daggers at the clueless young woman, who only compounded her crimes by complimenting the permanent white forelock in his ginger curls as she took his order.

Martin snatched his double scoop of rocky road and pralines and cream out of her hand with a withering scowl and said nothing. Jon, frowning in the dread shadow of Martin’s hushed wrath and finally deciding on just the mint chip, took it upon himself to pay while the poor young woman skirted around both their gazes. They took their ice cream to enjoy in the balmy sun on the metal patio tables outside the shop under a cloud of unspoken insults and slander which Jon was more than happy to pop open the conversational umbrella beneath before the downpour.

“Something wrong?” he asked solicitously.

“Nope. I’m fine,” came the curt answer, suspiciously also lacking in eye contact as Martin stabbed his pink spoon into the rocky road.

Jon’s mismatched eyes narrowed shrewdly. There was one thing that never escaped his notice, even now, and that was the painfully obvious way Martin always broadcast his inner hurts and the physical language of his turmoil he had become fluent in over the years.

“Okay, yes you are probably fine. And I’m guessing it has nothing to do with you actually, because you’re angry and you rarely get angry on your own behalf, which means it’s probably something to do with me or some perceived slight. What happened in there? Did someone make a snide remark about my eccentric ice cream selection? The long skirt on a warm spring day? Oh, no, I’ve got it. It was probably the earrings, yes? I knew I should have gone with the feathers instead of hoops, matches the outfit much better.”

The corner of Martin’s mouth quirked up in a hapless, crooked smile as Jon coaxed a laugh out of him, and he looked up into his gaze adoringly to grant him unspoken conciliation.

“No, no not at all. Nothing like that. It’s nothing, love. It’s not a big deal. Just low blood sugar or something. Just eat your nasty mint chip or rum raisin or whatever that unholy concoction is,” Martin snorted, gesturing at his cup.

“Liar,” Jon crooned with loving reproachment, reaching out to thumb a little bit of rum raisin on the tip of Martin’s nose as punishment.

Even breathed with such unfettered, undying affection, Martin hated that word. He hated how transparent he still was to the man he loved, how much he still truly saw him, saw through him. At least all it took to compel him now was a little melted ice cream rubbed clean off his nose and a winsome smile with love-puddled green and brown eyes.

“Okay, okay… fine,” he admitted with a resigned smirk and a sigh, “I don’t like the way they look at you. Okay? That’s all.”

Jon’s brow knitted together curiously.

“Hmm? Who? What do you mean?” he asked.

“Everyone!” Martin finally effused in frustration, “Everywhere! They look at you like you’re… like you’re damaged goods! Like you’re some pitiful beaten animal on the street, or worse, like you’re some sort of- some sort of um…”

“…Monster?” supplied Jon, lips pursed and lids drooping.

“…I wasn’t going to say that,” Martin stammered.

“What other word is there?”

“Fine, they look at you like you’re a monster. They take one look at your face or your throat or your… your hand. And I can just see it on their faces. They look at you like you’re a monster, and I hate it. You don’t deserve that. You never did! They don’t even know you! They don’t know what happened to you…! And sorry, Jon, but I get angry about it because it’s not fair, and I can’t exactly go about lobbing right hooks into the faces of everyone who even looks at you cross-eyed, now can I? Much as I’d like to…"

Jon went quiet as he listened, dabbling first in the rum raisin, then indulging in a little mint chip chaser, cocking his head to the side thoughtfully as he nibbled on the plastic spoon.

“Is that what you see?”

The color rolled out from Martin’s freckled cheeks along with the very spirit from his eyes in a fog, his entire mien awash in pallor.

“What? How could you say that to me? I would NEVER think that about you, Jon! How could you ever think I would think that? I-I know I said some awful things in the past about your scars, but I-“

“No no! Martin, no! Of course not! I know you would never!” Jon cut in, reaching across the table to snatch his hand and squeeze it reassuringly, rubbing his knuckles and over his wedding ring, “You misunderstand! I was asking if that’s what you see in their eyes?”

Martin clung to Jon’s hand, heart palpitating and breath easing.

“Oh…” he blurted dumbly, flushing with lively hues of reds and golds once more, “I-? Of course I do, what else could it be?”

“I don’t see that. I don’t see that at all,” Jon answered simply, “It’s… hard to describe but, damaged goods, disgust, morbid curiosity, those are all… Hard things. They have sharp edges. And when people here look at me, I don’t feel anything hard or sharp, it feels… soft? It feels gentle.”

Shaking his head, Martin frowned.

“Gentle? How is openly gawking at someone’s scars in any way gentle?”

“It’s just a feeling I have. I suppose,” Jon mused, thumbing at his beard with his free hand as he constructed an analogy that would make sense in his mind, “Mmm… Think of it like this. Humans, life, we’re all very visually oriented creatures, right? We respond to visual cues in our environments that are universally understood. We wear these rings so that everyone knows we belong together, just the same as bright colors usually mean poison, or how specialized feathers, or horns, or dewlaps and the like let others know they’d be a good mate, or how some things look like eyes or like entirely different creatures to scare off predators, and so on.”

The creases in Martin’s forehead only deepened in confusion.

“Okay sure, but scars aren’t a natural adaptation? We don’t look at scars the same way we look at pretty eyes on a moth wing or something.”

“I know that, that’s not what I’m saying,” Jon reiterated tenderly, “What I’m saying is I’ve always felt like my scars are a visual cue, but one that says to others ‘treat me gently’, because clearly I haven’t been. And it’s… well it’s been quite nice. You were about to tear that poor girl’s head off, but didn’t you see how she not only gave me about six samples when the sign clearly said two per customer, but then she also gave me the rum raisin ‘by mistake’ and then conveniently forgot to charge for it?”

“Wh-did she?” Martin gasped in shock, rewinding the transaction to remember that indeed, Jon had only asked for mint chip, but there was clearly also a generous scoop of rum raisin in his cup, ”She did… No I… I guess I didn’t notice…”

Jon let Martin’s hand go to cup his cheek pointedly in his scarred palm, running his thumb over the soft curve of his cheek and the spray of his ruddy freckles comfortingly.

“You want to know what I think? I think what you perceive as disgust or aversion or even pity is just fear, like you had. Fear of pain, fear of disfigurement, of fallibility. People are always afraid of seeing what can become of their mortal bodies, but that has nothing to do with me, or being disgusted by me. People are, at their cores, good and gentle, Martin. I know they are, we both do. They see me, my cane, my limp, my hand, my gray hair, my face, and they don’t even ask, they just know, on some primal level, that life was not kind to me. And so in some tiny way, like free rum raisin, they almost always try to give something back to me.”

Jon had known. He had noticed. It had never escaped his perception as Martin had assumed. Jon had known all along, but it was only Martin who still saw daggers in the smiles of strangers while he had taken the last vestiges of his powers irrevocably branded on his body and soul and sowed something delicate and beautiful and blossoming in his new earth. Martin had made a weapon. Perhaps no less delicate and beautiful, but still cold and sharp and deadly. The razor white edge of the sun through frigid fog.

“I’m so sorry, Jon,” Martin choked, his throat pinching shut with the threat of tears, “I-I had no idea…. I-I only thought…”

“It’s alright, please don’t cry, darling, you have nothing to be sorry for. I understand. You only thought you were protecting me. I protected you for so long, when you were desperate to do the same for me, to save me, but had no power to do either. Now you’ve got your turn to do the protecting in earnest, and honestly, it’s a… can I- can I say hot? Can I say it’s a hot look on you? Or is that weird?” Jon asked, tips of his ears blushing coyly.

Martin managed a laugh as he sniffed back the tears and thumbed both sets of lashes dry under his spectacles.

“It’s a little weird for you, in particular, to say it, just because it’s you. But I’ll take it.”

“I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

Perhaps then, Martin thought as Jon leaned over their whimsical little metal table outside an ice cream parlor by a park with a striped canopy above them and birds singing and kissed his tears away and then kissed his lips into a smile, that sharp things needn’t always be weapons. Perhaps his sword was, in reality, a spade, or a hoe, something to tend and nurture the new and fragile happiness Jon had tilled. Gentle things deserved gentle protection, and he was still going to devote every iota of his being to protecting Jon until the end of their days. After all, as they finally got to enjoy their slightly melted ice cream, Jon still dribbled a bit of rum raisin down his beard and carried on none the wiser. Martin let him go on like that, blissfully unaware, talking about Polyphemus moths and the myth of the cyclops and something about someone going about as Nobody, until he finally reached out with a napkin to attentively wipe it away.

Other than a gracefully paced ‘oh, thank you dear,’ Jon never missed a beat.

#The Magnus Archives #TMA #JonMartin #Jmart #Fan fic #Crow Writes #Ask Drabble #Fricklefracklefloof

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davidmann95 · 3 years

Note

Sooo… Superman and the Authority?

magnus-king123 asked: Your thoughts on Superman & the authority Give it to me...lol

Anonymous asked: Seeing Bezos take his little trip into space the same day Morrison puts out a Superman comic that touches on how far we’ve fallen from the days when we dreamed of utopian futures where everyone explored the stars was a big gut punch. Not used to Superman being topical in that way.

Anonymous asked: What'd you think of Superman and the Authority#1?

This is far beyond what I can fit in the normal weekly reviews, so taking this as my notes on the first six pages, with this and this as my major lead-in thoughts:

* Janin's such a perfect fit for Morrison - the scale, the power, the facial expressions selling the character work, the screwing around with the panel formatting as necessary to sell the effect, the numinous sense of things going on larger than you can fully perceive amidst the beauty and chaos. It's a shame he wasn't around 25 years ago to draw JLA, but I'll take him going with Morrison onto other future projects.

* His intro action sequence is such a great demonstration of why Black actually does have something to offer, and also how he's such a dumbass desperately needing Superman to save him from himself.

* While Jordie Bellaire didn't legit go with an entirely monochromatic palate the way early previews suggested, it's still an effect frequently and excellently deployed here. And glad to see Steve Wands carry into this from Blackstars since there's such an obvious carryover from its work with Superman.

* "Gentlemen. Ladies. Others." Great both because of the obvious - hey, Superman's nodding at me! - and because it's a phrasing that reinforces that this take on him (and let's be real Morrison) is old as hell.

* I'm mostly past caring about whether this is an alt-Earth Superman until it becomes indisputable one way or another, this and Action both rule so what does it really matter? But while there are still a couple signs in play suggesting some kind of division (the Action Comics #1036 cover, Midnighter up to time-travel shenanigans) the "lost in time" quote clearly thrown in after the fact to explain how he could have met Kennedy outside of 5G that wouldn't be necessary for an Elseworlds, the assorted gestures towards Superman's current status quo, the Kingdom Come symbol appearing in Action, and that Morrison would have had to completely rewrite the ending if this wasn't supposed to be 'the' version of Clark Kent going forward as was the intent when they first planned it all say to me that no, no fooling around, this is our guy going forward one way or another.

* Janin and Bellaire making the first version of the crystal Fortress ever that actually looks as cool as you want it to.

Anonymous asked: I like that Superman and The Authority is basically the anti-All-Star; instead of the laid back, immortal Superman who is supercharged, we have a stressed, ageing Superman whose tremendous powers are fading. The former will always be there to save us, but the latter is running out of time and needs to pull off a Hail Mary. Also, he mentions in his monologue to Black that he was "lost in time" when he met JFK, so maybe he is the main continuity Clark. Or he's the t-shirt Supes from Sideways.

* You're absolutely right - the power reversal is obvious and the ticking clock in play seemingly isn't for his own survival but everyone around him as he wakes up and realizes all the old icons grew complacent with the gains they'd made and he's not leaving behind the world he meant to. Both, however, are built on the idea of preparing the world to not need them anymore - it'll still have a Superman in his son, but that'll only work because of the others he empowers and inspires. The question is what happens to Clark if he's not going to live in the sun for 83000 years.

* Clark's 'exercise' here does more to sell me on the idea of Old Man Superman as a cool idea than however many decades of Earth 2 stuff.

* Intergang being noted alongside Darkseid and Doomsday speaks to how much Kirby informed Morrison's conception of Superman.

* This isn't exactly the most progressive in its disability politics but at least it makes clear Black's being a piece of shit about it.

* It's startling how much Clark can get away with saying stuff in here you'd never expect to come out of Superman's mouth. "I made an executive decision" "Privacy, really...?" "You have nowhere to go, Black. Nothing to live for." "There are few people in my life who I instinctively and viscerally dislike, and you've always been one of them." It only works because there's zero aggression behind it, he's just past the point of niceties and being totally frank while making clear none of these assessments preclude that he cares and is going to unconditionally do the right thing every time. He is absolutely, per Morrison, humanity's dad picking us up when we're too drunk to drive ourselves home.

* The story doesn't put a big flashing light over it, but it's not even a little bit subtle having the material threat of the issue be a ticking timebomb left by the carelessness and hubris of generations past.

* Manchester keeps trying to poke the bear and prove his hot takes about Superman and it's just not working. The front he put up under Kelley is gone after decades of defeats, and as Morrison understands what actually conceptually works about him as a rival to Superman underneath the aging nerd paranoia he's exposed as what he absolutely would be in 2021: a dude with a horrific terminal case of Twitter brainworms. I was PANICKED when I heard there was an 'offensive term' joke in this, I was braced for Morrison at their well-meaning worst, but it's such a goddamn perfect encapsulation of a very specific breed of Twitter leftist who uses their politics first and foremost as a cudgel and justification to label their abrasive, judgmental shittiness as self-righteousness (plus it's a killer payoff to a joke from way back in his original appearance). Cannot believe they pulled that off when they're so very, very open about basically not knowing how the internet works.

* @charlottefinn: Manchester Black using his telekinetic powers to force someone he hates to fave a problematic tweet so that he can screenshot it and start a dogpile

@intergalactic-zoo: “Once they cancel Bibbo, Superman won’t be *anyone’s* fav’rit anymore!”

* Friend noted this issue had to be fully the conversation because the whole premise stands on the house of cards of these two somehow working together, and with three 'silent' inset panels the creative team pulls off that turning point.

* So much of this feels on the surface like Morrison bringing back the All-Star vibes with Clark, but when he drops a "That's all you got?" in a brawl you realize what's underlining that bluntness and confidence in the face of failure is that deep down this is still the Action guy too. This dude ain't gonna get wrecked in his Fortress while the other guy chuckles about him being A SOFT WEE SCIENTIST'S SON!

* Bringing up Jor-El made me realize that Morrison already spelled out that this is the final threat to Superman, what he faces at the end of the road:

"Now it's your turn, Superman."

* A l'il Superman 2000/All-Star reference with the Phantom Zone map!

* There's so much intertextuality going on here even by Morrison standards - Change or Die with the old hero putting together a team of morally nebulous folks out to 'fix' everything, Flex Mentallo with the muscleman trying to redeem the punk, Doomsday Clock with the fate of the world hinging on whether Superman can get through to a meta stand-in for an idea of 'modern' comics cynicism, DKR and New Frontier and Kingdom Come and Multiversity and Seven Soldiers and What's So Funny and All-Star and Action and the last 5 years of monthly Superman comics and Authority and probably Jupiter's Legacy and Tom Strong - but none of that's needed. You could go in with the baseline pop cultural understanding of the character and not care about any of the inside baseball shit and get that this is a story about a leader of a generation that let down the people they made all their grand promises to as inertia and day-to-day demands and complacency let him be satisfied with the accomplishments they'd made long ago, looking at a new era and seeing the ways its own activists are dropping the ball. The only thing that fundamentally matters in a "you have to accept you're reading a superhero story" sense is that because he's Superman he's willing to own up to it and listen to people who might know better about some things and try to set things right while he and those who'll take his place still have a chance. And yes, the oldster looking back on their legacy with a skeptical eye and hoping for better from the next generation, hoping most of all that their little heir apparent can fulfill the promise inside of him instead of being a provocating little shitkicker, is obviously also autobiographical.

* The overlaying Kennedy reprisal is such a great visual of a sudden intrusive thought.

* The Kryptonite secret is the obvious "This is going to matter!" moment, but "He lied about his son" is a bit that doesn't connect to anything going on right now so maybe that's important here too? More significantly, the Justice League can't actually be the villains here but that Ultra-Humanite's crew are in an Earth-orbiting satellite makes pretty clear what's up.

* I've said before that between Superman, OMAC, and a New Gods-affiliated speedster this was going to use all of Morrison's favorite things. King Arthur playing a role isn't exactly dissuading me.

* Love the idea that all the antiheroes have their own community in the same way as the capes and tights crew. They definitely all privately think the rest are posers though and that they alone are Garth Ennis Punisher in a mob of Garth Ennis Wolverines.

* Manchester's fallen so far he's gone from trying to convince Superman to kill to convince him to dunk on people for their bad takes and Clark just doesn't get it. Official prediction of dialogue for upcoming issues:

"According to these bloody Fortress scans, the only thing that can restore your powers is an unfiltered hit of dopamine. Don't worry, Doctor Black has a few ideas."

"Hmm. Maybe I'll plant a nice tree?"

"...fuck you."

* Ok I already talked about how great the Fortress looks in here but LOVE this library.

* A pair of pages this seems like the right spot to discuss from Black's original appearance that underlines both his and Superman's inadequacies up to this point:

Responding to the problem of "the government and penal system are hopelessly corrupt" neither of them has any actual notion of what to do about it in spite of their respective posturing beyond how to handle individual outside actors - each is in their own way every bit as small-minded and reactionary as the other. Clark's coming around though, and he's holding out hope for the other guy.

* Superman: Have a lovely mineral water :) proper hydration is important :)

Manchester Black: *Is a dude who can get so mad he vomits and passes out. At water.*

* That last page is the one to beat for the year, and does more to put over the idea of this as an Authority book than that Midnighter and Apollo are literally going to show up. It also feels like Morrison tacitly acknowledging all the ways the premise could go or at least be received wrong - from Superman saying 'enough is enough' to who he's bringing into the fold to go about it - in the most beautifully on-the-nose fashion imaginable. Maybe they'll save us all! Or maybe they'll drown us in their vomit.

#Superman and The Authority #Superman #The Authority #Manchester Black #Grant Morrison #Mikel Janin #Jordie Bellaire #Steve Wands #Opinion

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atlasshrugd · 3 years

Note

Hi seeing as you seem to be the only sorta active britin blog I can find lol I wanted to ask you about some of your favourite moments for them, as I'm kinda new to the fandom whatevers around lol, and would like to hear peoples thoughts on them if you don't mind answering 😊

Hey there! Sorry I am answering so late, but WOW this is a big ask because there are SO many favorite moments.

So I have narrowed it down to my Top 5:

1. Prom (obviously)

Okay this is a no-brainer. This is literally the most romantic sequence in all of television history. I still have not found something more beautiful, moving, triumphant, loving, and groundbreaking than when Brian and Justin danced to 'Save the Last Dance for Me' at prom. Obviously barring the horrific events of what followed, this scene transcended all stereotypes and barriers and allowed us as the viewers to feel pure happiness and pride as queer people. I remember seeing it for the first time at 14 and feeling so unadulteratedly happy and validated. This was a scene of two gay people unapologetically showing the world that they did not give a shit what anyone thought of them. The only thing that mattered was this thing between them; this unspoken understanding, solace, love, and pride. I still moves me to this day whenever I watch it, no matter how many times I do.

And of course we must talk about the implications of Brian's character in this scene. Throughout season 1, he has been an emotionally stunted and cold individual who does not believe in love, relationships, or trying to make other people happy. Here, in the finale, we see Brian finally putting away all his ego bullshit ("I wouldn't be caught dead in a room full of 18 year olds"), and going out of his way to make someone he cares about happy. The fact that he even showed up at Justin's prom is a direct U-turn from the moral principles he has been reinforcing all season. And by dancing to a "ridiculously romantic" corny song, waltzing, and kissing Justin in front of everyone without giving a shit — that is pride. That is one of Brian's long-accustomed walls tumbling down.

"And don't forget whose taking you home and in whose arms you're gonna be..."

2. When they make love for the first time after the bashing

Now these scenes...how do I describe the sheer profundity? After Justin's bashing at prom, Brian is left in shambles. He blames himself for everything, and it is just further proof that Brian's love always causes further destruction. Justin has lost all memory of that night at prom, and this is one of the big tragedies. Justin had promised that he'd never forget it, and that it was the best night of his life. That proof of Brian's love that he had for so long been longing to experience — has disappeared as if it never happened. Now, Justin's confidence and surety of the world has been distorted. He is no longer sure of anything, including himself and Brian. He needs reassurance and things spelled out for him.

When Brian and Justin sleep together for the first time after the bashing, it is not like all the other times they had sex. This, in fact, is the first time they make love. Justin is telling Brian that he trusts him wholeheartedly, enough to allow him in his body again after his own agency had been ripped away from him. This is where Justin absolves Brian of his guilt. He takes the blood-stained scarf off his shoulders, lets it fall to the ground. He gives Brian the forgiveness that Brian cannot offer himself.

"Like the first time?" Brian asks, because it is the anniversary of their first meeting, but at the same time—it is nothing like the first time. Now, they are not strangers. They are more acquainted with each other than they have ever sought to be; know each other in such profound depths. They are forever linked by this thing they have both experienced, but it is not just that shared trauma. It is based off deep understanding and love. They have, somehow along the way, become more each other than themselves. They know that they have become irreplaceable and inseparable parts of each other. And Brian has been holding onto that guilt for so long that it has become rooted deeply within him. SO when Justin absolves him of it, Brian allows himself to truly feel for the first time since the bashing. He gives himself to Justin, in that moment, as Justin gives himself to Brian. It is a brilliant and tender scene of trust, devotion, acceptance, and absolution. Something they both needed to soothe their troubled souls, and a new basis for their relationship.

3. When Brian helps Justin walk down the street after the bashing

Again, this is Brian showing nurturing, care, patience, compassion, and selflessness to another person. Justin trusts him enough to rely on him, and Brian doesn't take this trust lightly. These are some of the sweetest scenes of the whole show, because this is when Brian is completely focused and devoted to Justin. He wants to help him, more than anything, to get better. And he accepts and takes up this role of carer, not because he has to, or because he is obligated or forced to. But because he will do anything to ensure that Justin will be okay, and that he gets the life he deserves.

Specifically, my favorite scene is when the song 'Grand pianos crash together, when my boy walks down the street...' is playing. Justin is walking through a crowd and Brian has his arms outstretched. When they come together, they hug deeply and easily. This scene is so simple and pure, so chaste, but it shows the true essence of their relationship, beyond all the facades and bells and whistles. At the heart of it, Brian and Justin care about each other more than they care about themselves. They have established a stable foundation of trust that they can rely on. And it also perfectly encapsulates just how far Brian has come once again. He is showing such selfless care and devotion to a boy in public daylight, kissing and hugging him and not wanting to let go of his hand. Season 1 Brian would have never even considered that. This just shows how much the events of the prom changed him, and shows how his desire for responsibility of another person has matured him. He had been forced to face his inner feelings, fears, and truths. Now, they are out in the open for the first time and Brian accepts this. This alone is a huge development.

Brian is also afraid to let go of Justin. When Justin says he can walk back himself and says 'Later,' Brian repeats it apprehensively as he holds Justin's hand until he can't anymore. Then, he watches Justin go, walking through the crowds. The look on his face is wistful, a little troubled. He hasn't wanted to face just how much he enjoys Justin's presence and how much happier and content he is when Justin is with him. He hasn't wanted to face just how afraid he is to lose Justin again. Their words of 'Later' are a direct mirror of their last words on prom night, just before Justin got bashed. Brian had watched Justin walk away, too. And a second later, he was gone.

4. Pride

This is probably one of my all-time favorite scenes in television ever. I have cried each time I've seen it. There is something so pure, essential, liberating, triumphant and tender about this scene, and the song that plays (Chiquitita by ABBA) certainly shows it. Firstly, Justin accepts Brian in his entirety and doesn't expect him to change. He knows how much Brian has been devoting to Justin in his recovery, and how strange that role is for Brian. Here, he tells Brian to 'go find a stud, ask him to dance,' — because he knows how much Brian has been sacrificing for him. This alone shows Justin's maturity and inner strength. He loves Brian, so he will not try to change him or shackle him. He wants Brian to be free to choose and live the way he wants, and that is what he fell in love with.

But when Justin shows this sacrifical and detached love for him, Brian realises that there is nothing he wants to do; no one he wants to be with more — than Justin. He is aware of the myriads of choices he has. But he chooses Justin. (Technically, for the first time, perhaps aside from prom. But even at prom, he had been running from something [turning 30]. Here, he chooses Justin without pressure for the first time.)

So, he follows him outside. He ask him "Hey, stud. Wanna dance?" Justin doesn't believe him at first, because he is not used to Brian choosing him by his own volition. He cannot imaging Brian passing up getting laid, especially after being celibate for the whole day. He also feels like a burden; like Justin's recovery has been inflicted on Brian, stopping him from living his life normally. Justin loves Brian enough to let him be free, but the biggest part? Brian loves Justin enough to choose him in that freedom.

So this marks another checkpoint in their relationship. Not only is there trust, understanding, and love — there is also desire. Sure, they have always desired each other. But this desire is not the physical kind or one born out of loneliness. This is desire for the other person as a whole. This is desiring another person's company because theirs is the only company you want. This is desiring to be with someone when there are so many other options. This is real desire — the kind that originates from the heart and not the flesh.

"I promise you won't forget this one." Brian is promising Justin that this dance will be theirs, just theirs. Not to stick it to anyone, to show anyone anything, to make some kind of point, or to make somebody happy. This dance is theirs, for the reason that Brian wants Justin to have this: this moment where Brian only wants Justin, where he dances with him simply because he wants to. And he wants Justin to have this memory, to overcome all the vague blurriness of their past. He wants this dance to be the one he remembers when he questions himself. And so they dance, and they sway, and they kiss, and they press their heads together, and the lights are bright and colored on Liberty Avenue, and everywhere people are free and joyful, and there is nothing to prove, no one to run from, nothing to hide. Their arms are wrapped around each other and the sound of 'You'll be dancing once again...and the pain will end...you will have no time for grieving...' tumbles through the air and all around them. 'But the sun is still in the sky and shining above you.' Now: there is nothing to be afraid of, and everyday life is full of reasons to be alive. To be proud.

5. Their reunification

This is one of their main checkpoints. This scene is the moment they finally become equals. Justin had left Brian for the reason that Brian could not give him what he needed to be happy, which was: reassurance. After the bashing, Justin lost all sense of who he was. There was a huge gap in his memory, therefore a huge part of himself he could not claim. He had lost partial use of his dominant hand which took away the only thing that gave him solace; his drawing ability. He was no longer sure of anything and needed things spelled out for him. He needed to talk about it.

But Brian was not willing to do that, because he himself was struggling with trauma from the incident that he did not want to face. Where his love language is in acts of service (letting Justin live with him, paying for his tuition, helping him recover) — Justin needed to hear the words. He needed verbal affirmation to prove that he wasn't crazy and just projecting his feelings onto Brian. He could no longer trust his own perception and interpretation of things whereas in the past he could read Brian's mixed signals easily without needing confirmation. This is the part Brian failed to understand. He was not willing to concede his identified notions of 'relationships' and 'love' — no matter how far he came. He had not accepted that his feelings for Justin were love, and that scared him. So he refused to compromise with Justin, believing that his actions were enough when they weren't. But all Justin needed was to be heard, and for someone to love him enough to give hime what he needed sometimes (which was, verbal and emotional affirmation).

So their relationship ended, and Justin thought he could get what he needed from Ethan, which proved to be another big lie. So at the end, Justin still cannot trust his own perception, but — he finally knows what he wants.

He comes to the realization that while Brian could not give him the words, he gave him honesty. He learned from Ethan that words without action had no meaning. So he prioritized what mattered more to him: hearing that Brian loved him? Or, knowing that Brian loved him. So he chose honesty.

And this is when they could get back together without that imbalance and insecurity.

"And you are never to play violin music in my presence again." This single line is the only thing Brian needed to say to indicate to Justin that he was hurt by Justin leaving. Brian has been putting up a front of indifference for their entire break up, only indulging in pain management in private. Justin leaving him irrefutably hurt him more than he could have ever anticipated. But he did not show it.

So, Justin smiles — a little nod of awareness — because that is all Brian needed to say. And he says, "I promise."

"And it's time...that we...grow old and so some shit..." plays in the background (Lover's Spit) as they start to undress each other, because they are now on the same playing field. They have no illusions, misunderstandings, and misinterpretations anymore. They are starting anew; a little older and a little wiser than before. Brian knows how painful it is to lose Justin. Justin knows how skewed his perception had been, because he had been so caught up in his isolation that he could not see the truth of Brian's actions.

But they both know at least one thing: that life is better together than apart.

Tbh I could go ON and write a dissertation about each of these individual scenes, but I hope this made sense and gave a little more insight on these scenes and characters. Thank you for the great question!

#queer as folk #ask #britin #qaf #brian kinney #justin taylor #brian x justin #mine

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qm-vox · 3 years

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So You Want To Play A Fairest

(Portrait of Erin Peters by cantankerousAquarius. The character originally appeared in Night Horrors: Grim Fears, published by White Wolf; catch my take on her in New Avalon)

Previous Articles: So You Want To Play A Beast, So You Want To Play A Wizened, So You Want To Play An Elemental, So You Want To Play An Ogre, & So You Want To Play A Darkling

You ever wonder, flipping through a Monster Manual for D&D, or a Bestiary for Pathfinder, why nymphs and hags are both always, always, women? It’s older than you know. Dig into the sordid history of tabletops and you’ll find sylphs that Gary Gygax wrote, Chaotic charmers who use mind control to reproduce with non-sylph men; you’ll find the legacy of the matriarchal drow, who follow a mad goddess, and you’ll find the medusae, whose sexual dimorphism is so complete that their men are beautiful and can turn stone into people.

Dredge deeper and you’ll find the tales that Gygax and his wretched ilk based such creatures off of.

You ever wonder why we assign such powerful Gender to creatures of beauty and horror?

Fairest don’t. They know, every time they wake up from a nightmare that is also a wet dream. They know, every time they get hit on at the bar and have to decide how they’re playing this. They know, every time they look in a mirror and see not their own face, but the ten thousand horrors that made it beautiful.

If you are very patient, and lucky, and kind, they might tell you why.

If you aren’t, they may show you.

This article draws primarily on Changeling: the Lost and Winter Masques, as well as Swords at Dawn and Night Horrors: Grim Fears. Other sources, when used, will be cited. It requires Content Warnings for sexual violence, sexual slavery, abuse, gaslighting, addiction, substance abuse, self-harm, self-image problems, mentions of fascists & fascist ideology, and just, so very much incel bullshit.

Bonus Material Part Two: The Seeming Part

The end of this article, just past the customary Sample Fairest, will include some additional material intended to help you select a Seeming for your character and otherwise build them up as one of the Lost, much as So You Want To Run A Spring Court included material for Courts as a topic.

Take Me To Wonderland - Fairest Overview

Fairest is the fourth Seeming presented in Changeling: the Lost and possibly the most confused about its own identity. Its sections in Winter Masques present depths and nuance that are completely absent in core, essentially making Winter Masques required reading for Fairest players in a way that no other book is - especially since Fairest keep getting written in a particular way alluded to in the Ogre article, which I will expand on later in this article. Fairest is numerically well-represented in canon and popular in the fanbase, home to many memorable character concepts, but its bones with folklore and tradition are weaker than it fronts as.

Ogres and Darklings claim an innate relationship to physical violence; so too do the Fairest claim a relationship to violence. The violence of Perception and its dark twin, Judgement; of Rumor and its mad dog, Prejudice, the violence of Lies and their merciless master, Truth. Fairest, alone among the Lost, have casual access to the resources of a society that refuses to service or acknowledge Changelings, and with access to that society comes both opportunity and temptation. To be Fairest is to wield power that many other Lost cannot, but the opportunity that power offers is a lie; a Fairest can smile until her face breaks like a mirror, but she’ll never be “sane” enough for the masses to see her as anything but a useful pet.

Life’s Lush Lips - Homecoming As A Fairest

Fairest can make the dubious claim of having the least clear memories of Arcadia amongst all the Lost, with Darklings and Beasts jockeying for second place. This isn’t to say that the experiences Fairest have are necessarily more intense or more inherently traumatic than that of other Lost, but rather that the abuse Fairest suffer is so emotional, so targeted at their perception of their selves and their situations and their self-image, that the memories which do form are inevitably colored by those emotions, coloring the dreams they have of Arcadia with both the emotional resonances they had at the time and with their later attempts to grapple with their own trauma and transformation. For many Fairest, who cannot trust even their strongest memory dreams, attempts to understand their own Durance must rely either on the word of their Keepers (and Faeries lie, oh, how they lie), or on reverse-engineering their own behavior to try and conceive of a trauma that could cause it.

Inevitably, however, some things are seared into their minds. For almost all Fairest, their Keeper is high on the list of things they remember with absolute clarity. Other facts, shattered and scattered, vary more widely. Erin Peters remembers stretched years kept in a cold, dark room lit only by her own hatred; every detail of her cell is scorched onto the back of her eyes, but the otherworldly balls her Keeper took her to blur together like food coloring in syrup. The slaves of the Candle Countess have terrible nightmares of the choices they were confronted with, the decision, offered over and over again, to become complicit in the Countess’s cruelty or to be victimized by it. Metallic Flowering from the Shining City struggle not to use drugs to mimic the rush of pleasure they’ve grown used to receiving for performing their jobs well; they also scream in terror if people touch them. A Draconic and a Shadowsoul both remember being used for the sexual pleasure of alien horrors; the one dreams of coiled scales and terrible teeth, the other a lifetime of lurking in an alien maze, tasked to perform the duties of a living trap for the “wicked” and “unwary” who had not yet shed the last vestiges of kindness.

There are no “wild” Fairest. For worse and worse still, to be Fairest is to have been defined by the inescapable and all-consuming attentions of your abuser, and it is this more than anything that other Lost so often fail to understand about the Fairest. Their Keepers heap them with reward and punishment, manipulating the Fairest with honeyed praise, godly wrath, gaslighting, neglect, withholding food, wondrous rewards, drugs from beyond the realms of earthly pleasure, and other hooks and crooks designed to make the Fairest dependent upon their abuser. It is hideously effective, and the first obstacle, maybe even the mightiest, that a Fairest faces to their escape is the simple horror and joy of being alone again. Their masters will try other tricks to keep them in place - tempting them with pleasures, horrific punishments, oh-so-sincere apologies - but before a Fairest can escape into the Hedge she must face, in her mind’s eye, the lonely flight back to the Iron Lands.

The memories that draw Fairest home often have parallels to their experiences in Arcadia. A slave in the Shining City bites into an otherworldly pastry and recalls her grandmother’s pie in its place; the bride of the Demon Lover, curled up under the sheets, thinks about the broken smile of the boyfriend she left behind at home. A Dancer remembers the roller rink where he fell in love with skating, while across the endless tides of the Fairest of Lands, a Shadowsoul holds on like grim death to years of work at haunted houses, scaring kids for fun and for Halloween. Fairest, so famous for their skill at words, struggle to articulate to other Lost why this should be so. Darklings assume it’s because these memories are less intense than Arcadia, and that the Fairest are fleeing to safety. Beasts get it a bit more right by thinking that these memories taste like home. The truth of the matter is that those memories have an intrinsic and nameless meaning; the highs and lows of Arcadia are divine, flawless, absolute, and therefore worthless. They are the proclamations of merciless gods. What draws the Fairest home, more than pain and pleasure they can have on their own terms, is the understanding that those gestures - for weal or for woe or for anything else besides - were made because someone cared about them, personally. Once they fully internalize that their abuser views them as disposable, the Fairest comes home to someone who won’t.

Three Kiths And Flowering Is One And A Half Of Them - Fairest Kiths

Yeah we’re about to be like that about it.

All Fairest can excel in the social arena; their Blessing can be used to flare almost every social roll in the game, and Fairest can never be caught off-guard in a social context (they suffer no untrained penalties to social rolls). With the sole exception of Empathy (usually rolled with Wits) and sometimes Streetwise, there’s no time a Fairest can’t fall back on their words and expect to win through or at least buy time. This is, as you might imagine, a godsend when it comes to attempts to pass in mortal society; Fairest can usually front, charm, bluff, or Manners(tm) their way through things like renting an apartment, nailing a job interview, asking their roommate to do the FUCKING DISHES, or getting stopped by a cop, but both the books and the fanbase miss something here. While Fairest are superb at active social events, they’re no better at keeping a lid on themselves (Composure-based rolls) than mortals are - and given both the nature of their trauma and the fact that they are, you know, Lost, Fairest have a lot more to keep a lid on day-to-day than the human society they’re trying to blend into. Thankfully, Fairest are pretty good at being able to politely leave a situation and go somewhere else to scream, shout, cry, or have a psychotic break, as appropriate.

Of course, Fairest can’t make something from nothing. As discussed in So You Want To Play An Ogre, you can’t win a social game someone else refuses to sit down to, and social rolls shouldn’t be mind control. All the Glamour in the world can’t make your roommate do the FUCKING DISHES if they’re deep in the throes of executive dysfunction, nor can it make the cashier at Walgreens fail to card you for wine when their computer literally won’t advance without an ID. People who are keyed up about honeyed words or whose own trauma came at the hands of manipulators and abusers might refuse to play that game on the terms the Fairest is setting, which makes it hard to, as it were, turn this problem into a nail. Lurking down this path as well is the specter of becoming like the masters who made you this way; if you get used to saying what will get people to listen to you, eventually you start seeing people as enrichment puzzles that dispense the things you want. Madness waits down that road, and it waits for Fairest with a giant spiked bat, thanks to their Seeming Curse.

There’s no pretty way to say this so I won’t: Fairest are always on the verge of losing their minds. Their curse hits them with a flat penalty to all rolls against losing Clarity, which means that Fairest lose Clarity faster than other Lost and they do so more consistently. This necessitates a balancing act with avoiding becoming heartless manipulators; Fairest must engage in control-seeking behavior in order to stay mentally well, must be able to trust and rely on people close to them, structure their lives, and anticipate important changes or they end up on the fast way down. Other Lost often don’t understand this need or the Fairest curse to begin with, and so Fairest end up in unofficial support groups for one another, similar to those run by Darklings except no one will admit it’s a support group even at gunpoint. Woe fucking betide the friend or life partner who gets between a Fairest and her “book club”, “girls’ night”, “D&D campaign”, or other excuse for this vital community support.

Fairest Kiths are...bad. They’re bad. This is the part of the article where I’m supposed to talk about thematics and symbolism and metaphor, and I cannot do that here, because they are bad. Fairest has three viable Kiths that are actual Fairest Kiths, one that’s a Beast Kith who got lost and wound up here by fucking mistake, and a pile of garbage bigger than my self-esteem problems. I’m almost tempted to only talk about those four Kiths and save myself the time but I suppose I should show the work like I’ve done for all the other Seemings, so here we fuckin’ go I guess.

Flowering - This is it. This is the Fairest Kith. If you want to roll any other kind of Fairest you must first pass the trial of justifying why you’re not playing Flowering. In theory, Flowering draws its mythic heritage from nymphs and dryads, charming flower sprites, Knights of Flowers, and the like, but in practice Flowering’s only mechanical effect is 9-again on Persuasion, Socialize, and Subterfuge with no qualification or requirement, which doesn’t just make you better at everything Fairest is good at, it makes you better when you spend Glamour to flare it too. Want to represent a biobahn sith’s hypnotic dance? Flowering works. Want to create a vampiric Fairest with a sultry voice? Here comes Flowering. The siren at the bar who smells like sea air and gunpowder? Flowering. Everything is Flowering. Even the things that aren’t Flowering are Flowering because all Fairest Kiths have a social focus, which is Flowering’s undisputed arena of mastery.

Bright One - In theory, Bright Ones represent beings of light in the vein of Victorian fey (which...ugh...Victorians), but their Goblin Illumination is, how you say, useless, only becoming vaguely useful for a total of 2 Glamour as a passive defense that took you 2 turns to set up. Anything you want to represent here can be found in Flowering and with Elements or Communion (Light).

Dancer - You know how Flowering gives you bonuses on all social rolls? Would you like those same bonuses but on 1 less skill and only on rolls that “involve physical grace”? No? Run Flowering here and give your character a Dance specialty in one or more skills.

Draconic - One of the game’s premier melee options and a Beast Kith who took a wrong turn and ended up getting a free makeover intended for someone else. Draconic in theory represents Fairest as dragons, monster girls, demons, and in general at their most physical, but that idea sorta...falls down a bit? Draconic’s bonuses are all about Brawl and all the sample Draconics are swordsmen, which might suggest to the discerning reader that someone in the office wasn’t reading their own fucking game. Draconic Fairest don’t make bad melee boys if you invest in Lethal Mien, but honestly this is Dual Kith bait; slap it on your Hunterheart or your Razorhand and go apeshit.

Muse - Close but no cigar. In theory Muses are, well, muses; figures of inspiration, mentorship, teaching, creative fire. Their Kith Blessing is strong but requires access to mortals, which is complicated and roundabout on the best of days. If you have an idea that you think is Muse-shaped, use Playmate instead.

Flamesiren - Behold, we enter the realm of Okay(tm). Flamesirens are what Bright Ones wanted to be, and their hypnotic aura is actually a pretty neat tool; with cunning you can make it a one-sided penalty, and even if you don’t it’s an interesting method of de-escalating a social or combat situation by subjecting everyone to the tar pit that is your presence. If your concept involves light and color and you’re resistant to Flowering, Flamesiren will do more than nothing.

Polychromatic - Polychromatics don’t have a lot of roots in mythology; their modern inspirations are, well, Manic Pixie Dream Girls. But they get a shout-out here for being the only Fairest Kith who can muster up decent emotional defenses; not only can they magically boost their Composure rolls (and non-Composure rolls to resist magical and mundane emotional attacks for that matter), but others get a flat penalty to Empathy rolls against them, which makes them talented dissemblers. You’re still probably better off with Flowering - in a world of passive Kith Blessings, Polychromatic’s is extra passive - but I can see this Kith passing muster, and even being worth the two dots to Dual Kith in-house.

Shadowsoul - This one’s insane. Ostensibly Fairest Does Darkling, Shadowsouls get their Wyrd to Intimidate rolls which could be the whole Kith on its own and still be worth the slot, but in addition to that they get 9-again on Subterfuge (matching Flowering and Darklings there) and access to Contracts of Darkness, one of the most powerful in the game line, as an Affinity Contract. Is your Fairest spooky? Would you like them to be spooky? Here’s your one-stop shop.

Telluric - This is a Kith made of ribbon bonuses. In theory related to stars and celestial light, Telluric’s bonuses to rolls “with precise timing” isn’t...really worth considering. Run ‘em as Flamesiren and move on.

Treasured - In theory also able to muster emotional defenses, Treasured are Fairest who are literally made into works of art. They’re Okay(tm) but in their niche are beaten out by Polychromatic with a better effect for less resources.

Playmate - The last Real Fairest Kith(tm), Playmate appears in Night Horrors: Grim Fears where White Wolf tries to sell it as Peter Pan, but its powerful team-oriented bonuses mean that Playmates are useful anywhere Muse is wanted and more places besides. The front woman of an indie rock band could be a Playmate; so too could be an idealized baseball captain, the director at your local theater, the middle manager of a sinister conspiracy, or the night shift lead at a research lab. Do people do a thing in teams? Playmate does that thing.

And She Had Huge Titties, I Mean Massive Badondadonks, Absolutely Enormous Bazoggahoggas - Lost’s Canon Fairest

Remember when I said we had to get back to this after So You Want To Play An Ogre? Now we’re getting back to this. I’m not gonna re-state my caveats from that article and I’m not really gonna go back over the bit about So White Wolf Was Run By Fucking Nazis because, in all honesty, I do not have the fucking time to restate all of that in new words. Give thanks that OPP got out alive and let’s get right down to it.

Fairest have a very consistent characterization in canon that is only really challenged in Winter Masques; the narrative put forth in Lost is that Fairest, being attractive, have an uncomplicated power which privileges their lives. Which is a rather bloodless way to describe how White Wolf kept writing and publishing Fairest as heartless abusers and manipulators getting their jollies and emotional needs met by casually destroying their fellow survivors, manipulating them through sex appeal, outright lies, cattiness, cruelty, and betrayal. Much as simply queering Ogre does not help Ogre in and of itself, queering Fairest only takes you from incel and Nazi propaganda about women into...incel and Nazi propaganda about twinks, femmes, & in general anyone with the temerity to be found attractive by straight white people.

I’m not bitter, you’re bitter.

So what do you do at your table, with your Fairest concept? Lemme open up by saying that like, Fairest qua Fairest is perfectly solid, and if it wasn’t there wouldn’t be an article here; Fairest has a lot to say for itself about feminized violence, about your personhood being reduced to a product for the consumption of others, about emotional abuse & neglect, gaslighting, and sexual assault, but the conclusion White Wolf arrives at (”Fairest have unalloyed power over mortal and Lost society and they abuse that power”) is super fucking obtuse and betrays a serious lack of concern for what the Fairest undergo. It ignores the way a Fairest’s ordeals will force her to confront her relationship to her own gender and alter her willingness and ability to be consumed, disconnect her from her former society while also isolating her from her new one, and these questions are important for you if you’re looking to play a ‘classic’ Fairest.

But that leaves some hanging questions. Male Fairest face the almost inescapable fate of “failing” maleness on patriarchal terms; even the most strapping, broad-chested, athletic Adonis of a Fairest has become a man of layered words and reflexive empathy, whose Manly Stoicism(tm) is a cracking facade at best and entirely abandoned in a more typical circumstance. Men who become Fairest thus face a second journey after their escape from Arcadia; confronting what being men means to them and building their gender identity back up from the rubble it’s become. The temptation to accept success on society’s terms is always going to be present, and it’s always going to be offered like it’s possible, but it’s a losing game for these Fairest; they simply cannot be the men that other men demand they become.

Now, the discerning and loyal reader is surely about to ask, hey Vox, where’s the butch Fairest I was promised back in the Ogre article, to which I respond WE’RE GETTING THERE but I gotta use this as a bridge to talk about something that cuts across Fairest of all genders, be they cis or trans. Lost 1e makes a lot of hay out of the idea that Fairest “are rarely conventionally attractive”, and core even provides some interesting written concepts for that...which make it into exactly none of the art. Every published Fairest is conventionally attractive for various definitions of conventional, be it as a supermodel or a waif, but that leaves the question of Fairest who genuinely are not - and, tragically, Fairest who were not, and were then made into someone more easily consumed by their Durance. You know what I’m about to say, and I know you know I’m about to say it, but I’m gonna say it anyway: all bodies are beautiful, but Fairest know well that beauty and attraction aren’t the same, and neither are beauty and happiness. All Fairest, from the roundest bear to the most wide-eyed waif, are the products of Keepers who valued their bodies in that state, and that idea is going to haunt them day in and day out for the rest of their extended lives. There is no such thing as a Fairest with an uncomplicated relationship to their body, and that White Wolf seems to think that an uncomplicated relationship is their default state is...disgusting, frankly.

Which brings us, at long last, to butch Fairest (also bear Fairest but I’m gonna stick with the one set of terms or I’m going to go mad and this will never be published), who have a complicated journey ahead of them. On the one hand, the assertion of control and ownership over their own bodies, their own identities, cannot be overstated. On the other hand, elements of those bodies are going to be completely out of their control; a nascent butch Fairest may well hit the gym to get swole only to discover that she literally, physically cannot, that she has been Assigned Dex Build At Durance. Hauling your corpse out of Arcadia with an extremely feminine appearance shaped by your Keeper might complicate attempts to present in a more masculine manner or even just to appear androgynous, and those complications can be discouraging. For those that stick to it, this journey will take them two places; one is the bared-teeth, bloody-knuckled assertion that this life is theirs and you can have it if you can fucking take it, and the other is into the ranks of the Freehold’s retained warriors, usually in Summer or Autumn, though a vibrant representation of Spring knights will make it seem as if Spring has more butch Fairest than it actually does. These Fairest are aware, or will become aware, of how much of their job involves de-escalating or pre-empting violence; a focus on Physical stats or skills is not necessarily common, but hyper-specialization therein likely is. A butch Fairest is a lot more likely to have, say, Brawl 4 (Multiple Opponents) and no other Physical skills than she is to have Brawl, Weaponry, Athletics, and Stealth, in part or in whole because her first weapon of choice is going to be an Intimidate roll.

At every turn you’re able to, challenge White Wolf’s narrative about Fairest by asking yourself what your Fairest wants, why they’re this way, what they’re frightened of, and how the way they behave relates back to these. They’re not products; they’re people, just as hurt and Lost as the rest of their peers.

Princesses And Pastries - Fairest In The Courts

Fairest have a complex relationship to the society of their fellow Lost. On the one hand, they have the same need for community, support, companionship, understanding, honesty, and material aid as all Lost; a Fairest is not magically proof against being homeless, against starving, against the dangers of existing in the modern world without things like a photo ID or car insurance, and Freeholds provide all of these things. On the other hand, the thing most Fairest fear most, even if they can’t articulate that fear, is their own power - social influence, emotional trust and betrayal, status, political power, and authority. Fairest are all too aware that being good at this game does not make them immune to it - after all, that’s the lesson they learned at the hands of their Keepers.

What follows from this is a complex dance of interactions that each Fairest in some ways has to feel like she’s managing on her own, even if she’s not (and she rarely is; those support groups exist for a reason). If you give a Fairest a doughnut in a social setting, she will lick that doughnut even if she doesn’t intend to eat it right away, solely to hear someone else say something along the lines of “well it’s yours now”. As Fairest filter into Freehold society and take up social roles at all levels of power - officers, messengers, ‘ambassadors’ to mortal society, secretaries, pledge-smiths, teachers, monarchs - their responsibilities and rewards become their doughnut. That Fairest make a big deal out of both their job and the benefits that come with it is rarely, as other Lost sometimes think, about aggrandizement or reveling in power for its own sake; it’s about the sheer relief and assurance of hearing someone say, to the Fairest’s face, that this is her doughnut and no one is going to take it from her.

Younger Fairest tend to flit between two or three Courts; their initial selection may be based entirely on friendships, Vibes, or a gut-check decision based on an initial pitch by that Court, and Fairest can go quite far even in a Court that doesn’t quite actually fit their needs. Eventually, though, those Fairest who survive their youth will gravitate towards a Court whose ideals speak to them, even if its current social order isn’t living up to those ideals. If they’re going to be condemned to live as exiles in the world of their birth, the Fairest can at least be the person she wants to be, god damn it. Fairest aren’t any more or less vulnerable to a toxic Court environment than other Lost, but they’re good at detecting it beforehand. Unfortunately they’re also good at telling themselves they can change it.

Spring - Though early Spring joiners are of course rare in general, Fairest are among those Lost who more commonly choose Spring as a first Court. Spring’s highly social focus and chaotic internal organization is almost tailor-made for the skill set of your average Fairest, but therein too lies a sense of threat; for many Fairest, Spring can remind them of their Durance, and their joining of the Court is as much motivated by fear of a powerful cultural body as it is by any genuine Desire, maybe even more so. Many such Fairest end up caught in Spring’s middle-road trap, spinning their wheels without recovering or worsening more or less until they finally die, but when Autumn can sniff out the fearful ones it puts a lot of work into cooperating with Spring to get them out and where they can be helped.

Summer - More Fairest dabble with Summer for dreams of glory, or because they want to believe in Summer’s apolitical sales pitch, than ultimately stick with Summer. Those that do stay often serve as officers, as the Sun’s Tongue or the Arrayer of Distant Thunder, and as Court sorcerers. Fairest skilled in Contracts of Separation can make for surprising Jaegers, hounding their prey down more like a private investigator or a serial killer than a traditional hunter, but while striking this is fairly rare. Fairest who stick with Summer are those who are looking for its high ideals and are often among those rare Summer Courtiers who can competently articulate both those ideals and their pitfalls without falling prey to cynicism and bitterness.

Autumn - For those Fairest who hurt others to feel safe, Autumn is waiting. The Leaden Mirror can be attractive to young Fairest because it’s easy to perceive Autumn as atomized, defined by personal relationships rather than webs of political influence, but when the Fairest discovers those webs the existence of Option Two: Resort To Violence as an acceptable tool to the Ashen Court is perversely reassuring rather than threatening. The image of the Fairest as a witch, tempting and threatening, clings to them in Autumn but it’s honestly not their most common role; Autumn employs its Fairest as rumor-mongers, the Other Woman who seems a little too familiar with your husband, therapists & counselors, oneiromancers, and ambassadors to Hedge communities. The work Autumn does is harsh on Clarity, and Fairest are especially vulnerable to that harshness, but if the Court invests the time in helping its Fairest members, the self-awareness and self-confidence it offers can be a godsend that no other Court can give them.

Winter - As the Court which is actually selling what Fairest think Autumn has - to wit, the ability to simply say “no” to all social interactions with no justification required - Winter has a strong undercurrent of Fairest membership at all tiers of its power. Fairest often end up directly involved in Winter’s money-making enterprises, and flourish as Squires and Armigers with their fingers on the pulse of the Court’s morale. Winter’s hands-off approach displays a tremendous amount of trust in its Fairest from their perspective, and the demeanor of the Coldest Court - Winter’s indifferent equality - has a potent, merciless appeal. The trap of drowning in Sorrow sucks more than a few Fairest under, but if their peers can be there for them there’s always a way back out.

This Is Not A Pipe - Fairest And Lost’s Themes

My many thanks to Izzie M for her extensive help on this section. I’m not sure I’d have been able to grapple it down, emotionally or intellectually, otherwise.

Fairest go through some intense shit, and the shit they go through can never fully be addressed, never fully be recovered from. It’s no mistake that Fairest, like Wizened, are among those Lost likely to never fully gain resolution with or from their Keeper, and this is because they embody the dark truth that no matter how much progress you make, how much you heal, your trauma has changed who you are as a person and you will be dealing with it until you die. But, as alluded to extensively above in the discussion of Fairest and gender, Fairest also embody the way in which society will attempt to stamp you, mold you, turn you into a product to be consumed or an archetype to be placed into its churning machine, and its attempts to reshape who and what you are and can be are, in themselves, a form of trauma and abuse.

Fairest deal a lot in expectations. They’re expected to be perfect victims, they’re expected to be happy (because they’re beautiful and attractive, because they can front as Doing Okay, because they have a form of access to ‘normal’ society), they’re expected to want romance and sex (since everyone else wants those things out of them), to perform emotional labor, to be available, intimate, understanding, to keep up appearances. Fairest escape the chains of their Keeper only to be clapped in the chains that extend into the eyes and minds of their peers, and they cannot move without hearing the clink of them.

Fairest are primed to represent victims of ongoing emotional abuse and neglect; sex slaves and victims of child abuse might find themselves in Fairest, as might husbands or wives of abusive partners (and boy, re-living my bullshit there was a bonus prize I didn’t want to receive for writing this article), children pushed to over-achieve (here overlapping with Elemental) until they break, pastor’s daughters and cult kids (here overlapping with Beast), and others. However, Fairest also hit their thematic stride when talking about trauma from a society that will not give you an exit. A trans person is first punished by society for “failing” to perform their assigned gender, then made to perform their new one to expectations that they cannot set, do not control, and do not consent to; such a person might easily be Fairest, as might a man breaking under the expectations of Maleness, a college student losing their mind in finals week with no one to help, or even more ‘ordinary’ sex workers expected to perform emotional and physical labor for a society that rewards their work with violence and dehumanization.

Fairest are people with complex internal worlds and they damn well know it, but the temptations to let others define them are numerous; society promises all manner of rewards for being who and what it wants you to be, for wanting the things it tells you to want, for being the kind of person who wants and does those things. To be Fairest is to know at any time you can start faking it and receive those rewards insofar as they’re actually on the table, but it is also to know, every second of every day that you’re performing that role, that it is fake. If you can’t find a community with which you can be genuine...well. You can always get more hurt, and in this way Fairest also bring another theme of Lost into focus: that the Lost owe compassion and understanding to their fellow victims, because failure to care can only hurt both them and everyone in their blast zone.

Feet Pics For Legos - Coping As A Fairest

Fairest are among those Lost who are most concerned with their day-to-day social interactions and safety rather than their immediate, very physical environmental safety. They are perhaps the Seeming most likely to live in a group setting (in an apartment with roommates or romantic partners, in a house shared between multiple households, splitting the bills in a condo, with their parents), and are definitely the Seeming most comfortable with the idea of living with mortals who aren’t ensorcelled. Indeed, Fairest don’t tend to do well living alone; even a Fairest who wants or needs a private place to be, choosing to keep a home in which others cannot lay a claim, will likely crash at friends’ places, sleep over at the Freehold commons on some pretext or another, stay the night with a lover, or otherwise have a place to flop down while surrounded by other people. Having other people - their greatest reality check - around the place helps keep the Fairest centered in the real reality, better able to pick apart the mortal from the Wyrd from their own unrelated hallucinations, and a Fairest who is isolated - or who is permitted to isolate herself - quickly begins to dissociate and may soon be incapable of caring for herself until someone can get her back into the present.

Those invited over as guests to a Fairest’s home may note a lot of concern for those she lives with. She likely schedules the event well in advance, is clear about the boundaries of those she lives with (”That’s Brenda’s room, the door stays shut.”) and in general treats her communal home with a lot of respect and love. Respecting these boundaries and in turn having her own respected is very validating for the Fairest and is vital to be able to feel safe and at ease in her own home, and impressing their importance on guests further reinforces that this is, as it were, her doughnut. While not dismissive of their own literal physical safety per se, a Fairest’s anxieties rarely center around her body being violently attacked by strangers. For those that do have such anxieties, they may choose to solve that problem by simple expedient of rooming or living with someone large and scary.

Another detail of note which is touched on in Winter Masques is that Fairest tend to seek out life’s little pleasures. Though they are not necessarily wealthier than other Lost, how a Fairest chooses to spend her money tends to follow particular patterns. Rare is the Fairest who doesn’t have clothing they like, a phone that works, a wallet or purse that can actually hold all of their stuff, and in this regard most Fairest without a special interest in fashion as a hobby in and of itself will have an aesthetic that is self-expressive but serviceable and hard-wearing, but any place the Fairest haunts, frequents, or lives in will get little touches everywhere. Fairest spend the little bits of extra money for good toilet paper, soft soaps that won’t hurt the skin, good shower supplies, high-quality razors, boots that won’t wear through - and they spend their serious money on their hobbies and preferences. A Fairest with a passion for cooking scrimps and saves to get a fully-stocked kitchen; a Fairest who likes building and connecting invests in Legos or Hot Wheels and creates elaborate environments for them. A gamer Fairest has headphones that can vibrate your constipation away and a fiber optic connection to ensure that lag will not stand between her and your doom. The reasons for this are manifold, and Lost’s canon writing suggests that Fairest seek pleasure to alleviate a desire to return to Arcadia. This is, to put it mildly, a stupid assertion; rather, the Fairest provides her own pleasures in part because it is one of the most emotionally clear ways to lick the doughnut, and in part because it reminds her that she can be happy under her own power, can seek pleasure, stimulation, engagement, without placing herself at another’s mercy - ironically making it easier to go out every day and do exactly that as a member of her various societies.

As a Fairest settles in she tends to look for “her” people, and quite often they’re good at compartmentalizing this, wearing different hats and having different feelings about those hats without feeling fake or distressed about the bare fact of that. She’ll have her personal friends and family, like her housemates, her girlfriend, maybe her mortal family, her neighbors, and then folks like her Motley (which are like her personal friends and family, but In The Know), her fellow Fairest and the Freehold broadly, her work friends and fellow hobbyists. A Fairest who does, say, sex work, thinks of herself as a Sex Worker and understands herself in the context of that broader social group. It can be a lot! Many Lost barely have a handle on being a member of both the Freehold and a Court, and the way Fairest flit to and fro between many communities, slipping seamlessly from one role to another, can be exhausting to watch - but by doing so the Fairest also builds bonds between those communities, highlights their common needs and interests, draws them together over their similarities and strengths. Darklings and Wizened get a lot of the work on the ground done, but it’s often a Fairest in the role of whistleblower, figurehead, and champion all at once.

After all, this, too, is her doughnut.

Example Fairest - Clara Belltower, Spring Playmate

Clara Belltower is a mime.

Well, no, not exactly. Clara Belltower is a self-employed porn actress, erotic script writer, and director, whose primary thing is mimes, clowns, and more broadly circuses and performance venues. She came back from Arcadia eight years back fleeing life as her Keeper’s Stepford Wife, and ran face-first into the money issues that haunt the Lost in general. What started out as a practical choice in new career - and an attempt to find and express an identity not created for her by her abuser - became a creative passion that has stayed strong with Clara and propelled her to status in the Spring Court, which retains her keen eye for decoration, direction, and theatricality in service to its high rituals and revels. Clara’s livestreams and online presence are also a convenient avenue for the Freehold to launder its less legal revenue streams, which has endeared Spring’s “silent siren” to the Winter Court and cemented her as a mover and shaker.

Clara’s ambitions reach beyond erotic miming, as talented as she is at both creating and purveying such. She has her eyes on four different strip clubs in Freehold territory alone whose owners and operators need to fucking go, and she wants Winter’s help making it happen; further, she wants the Freehold to take over operation of those establishments for the benefit of the workers. Clara’s vision is popular in Spring and has its supporters in Summer too, but the Declining Seasons have been cool on the concept, citing a need to maintain subtlety and avoid entanglements with the mortal world that might invite the eye of, say, the IRS - or mire the Freehold in a protracted war with local police departments. Clara’s passion burns with a righteous simplicity, envisioning a Freehold that is active in improving the city around it - if the cops want to throw down, bring it on! Her influence over Winter means the Coldest Court cannot simply dismiss her desires, but neither is it willing to go to war. Something is going to have to give, soon.

This concludes the Fairest portion of the article. Some additional thoughts on Seeming follow.

Bombing Your Own Position - Choosing Your Seeming

So it’s been six articles and I’ve talked about the ways various Seemings can represent responses to the things which traumatize us; neurodivergences for which society abuses us, the machinery of capitalism, violence, prison, and more. But how do you go about choosing your character’s Seeming? The obvious choice is to make a character that puts a lot of yourself at the table; to seek out a Seeming that reflects your own traumas, your own issues, your own anxieties and struggles, and then grapple with them in this fictional context. But RPGs can be an emotionally challenging medium, and you may well not want to deal with your own bullshit during your magic trauma fairy game. That’s valid!

Now, the second obvious piece of advice is to think about your proposed character’s themes and traumas and then select a Seeming from there, but this can get complicated. Many Lost players feel as if they need two Seemings, and to those players I say: no the fuck you do not. But it is true that people are messy and do not fully resolve, that the broad spectrum of the world of sorrow and loss is not easy to fit into 6 discrete categories whose creation was often managed by, not to keep repeating this point, fucking Nazis. I have found in my experience that it can be helpful, when you’re torn between two Seemings or you have a character you’re sure is this Seeming even though they look like or could be that one, to ask yourself why the character is not the other option. Why is this alluring and sensual Darkling not a Fairest, what makes this brutal and violent Wizened not an Ogre? This question naturally leads to others about their abuse and their reaction to it, and can start your momentum for writing your concept out.

As an addition, while I’ve spoken of various Seemings as being well-equipped to represent specific traumas, they don’t own those traumas. Elementals are metaphorically autistic, but there’s nothing stopping you from running an autistic Fairest or an autistic Beast instead. Rather, those Seemings outlined as being “for” or “about” certain traumas are those whose selection will make those traumas thematically central, cause you to return to them as a topic over and over by virtue of being who and what they are. Real people have complicated problems which intersect with one another, spawning new problems that are more strange than the sum of their parts, and it’s both valid and interesting to write your Lost that way - just keep in mind that it’ll still be complicated at the table too.

Van Helsing Hate Crimes - Seeming Politics

White Wolf spent a lot of time waffling back and forth on whether or not Seemings represent distinct cultural and political identities in a given Freehold, drifting towards ‘yes’ when the writers thought about the way Blessings and Curses create consistent, measurable differences between Lost of various Seemings, and towards ‘no’ generally whenever they were asked to actually outline a Lost society such as a sample Freehold or Entitlement. Some Entitlements are locked to specific Seemings, often times with little thought as to why, while other times Seeming-based power blocs are alluded to as worldbuilding elements (such as in Lords of Summer) without much in the way of supporting detail. Why should these things happen, when, how, what does the buildup of this violent fracture in a Freehold society look like?

On the whole, I have taken the stance in these articles and in my own worldbuilding that some amount of fantastical prejudice exists amongst the Lost, but that the systems of oppression have not taken root. Maybe it’s idealistic of me to view the Lost as unwilling or unable to produce internally racist power structures that create an underclass for the benefit of an appointed elite, but in general I feel as if Freeholds are too small, each individual member too precious by simple dint of being a living being in a physical body, for this kind of evil to flourish. That said, you may have also noticed that I identified two Seemings - Darklings and Fairest - as explicitly self-uniting and in some senses self-governing on the basis of common traumas that they often cannot fully explain to outsiders, and indeed community with people that understand your bullshit without you having to say it aloud - that is, those who share a Seeming with you - can be invaluable to all Lost. Ultimately, however, I want to advise against looking at Seemings the way that, say, Vampire: the Requiem looks at Clans, and instead to treat them as reactions to trauma rather than a kind of alternate racial identity.

Next up: So You Need To Write A Fetch

#Changeling: The Lost #rpg #fairest #trauma #abuse #seemings #violence

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imagine-otome-games · 3 years

Text

Survivors Guilt [GI Childe]

Pairing: Childe x Fem!Reader [[3RD POV]] [[Heavy use of she/her]]

Warnings: Angst, dark-ish imagery, dark thoughts etc also kinda long since theres barely any dialouge.

!!SPOILERS FOR LIYUE ARCHON QUEST!! [[Vague but if you know you know]]

A/N: working on that diluc but uh this hit me sooo.. I wondered what would have happened if that fight didn’t go so smoothly..

;; a day in which all his debts were paid off with interest;;

“ Pᴀɪɴᴛ ʙʟᴇᴇᴅs, ɪɴᴋ ʀᴜɴs, ɪᴍᴀɢᴇ ᴏғ ʏᴏᴜʀ ʟᴏᴠᴇ..”

It was truly a sight to behold- something like a breathtaking scene in a famous novel. Poets and authors alike would try to replicate it, but it would never be quite the same- not as impactful.

No words could ever truly replicate the way he had screamed upon hearing the news. No painter could even come close to recreating the look in his anguished eyes- the rigid state of his entire body- the immediate stream of tears. However, who would truly want to? Words hit hard enough so an actual image would be pure torture and yet.. some found inspiration at the way this hardened Harbinger absolutely broke down for his love..

Even the strongest of people have their weaknesses and his lied with her..

“I promise I’ll be back soon.”, he had said, with pure confidence too despite it all.

She had been so far from the harbor- she didn’t give him any hint that she would be on the waters that day. Even she had, what had ultimately happened was a last resort. He never intended to do it but.. perhaps if she had mentioned something that day.. he would have stopped himself.

If he was stronger- if he hadn’t allowed himself to be used..

The rage mixed in all that anguish was suffocating- each and every breath he took as he moved forward felt like it was searing his lungs. His legs felt like the bones within were made of lead, threatening to cave in on themselves. He almost wished they would- he wished they’d shatter- he begged to his current wounds to just end what was only the beginnings of his endless suffering.

Instead of hoping his death would happen in glorious battle he wished for it to be swift- for it to carry him home immediately, no matter how selfish it seemed.

He had a family, he had to think of how they would feel but now... now the blood on his hands was blood he was never meant to spill..

He always knew the true costs of his line of work would catch up to him.. Childe simply thought that cost wouldn’t be so high- so immediate. Or.. something of his own doing-

Once he made it to where the crowds had gathered- to the aftermath seen by all, he was gifted with burning daggers in his back by their eyes- a hint of pity accented within the obvious poison. They would forever be embedded in his flesh. None would be unaware of his horrific deed in Liyue harbor- the absolute disregard for innocents and his own dearest heart.

He wished the people would be more violent, but he knew they wouldn’t be. That was too easy- too merciful.

Within that crowd he found what he had destroyed. There, in the calm waters, surrounded by mourning citizens that knew her well... she floated calmly. Her calm face struck him hard- it was now dull, there was no life within her features- this was not like when she slept or when she turned her face to soak in the beautiful sun.

The reality of everything hit him so hard it knocked the breath and rationality out of him.

He had begged and pleaded and sobbed in vain- she had been gone all along. When he was told you were missing- lost at sea, deep in his very core he knew the waves had stolen her. Osial must have stolen her was what he allowed himself to believe for a time, but Childe was not that much of a fool. His own idiocy and failure to think rationally stole her from him. He did this to himself and now, in front of all of those which he wronged, he breaks.

He will never be able to see her smile- how is it that one person can have so many different smiles? So many expressions to miss and touches to crave and be robbed of. Childe would never hold her in his arms. He could no longer relish in the taste of her lips or her warm embrace on late nights.

Her voice would no longer bring him back to life on the days he lost himself- he would be left to drown out at sea, just as he deserved. There was no future to look forward to- a time when he would get to call you his wife or perhaps the mother of his children- not even a time in which he got to live freely. To be just Ajax and not Childe, the Eleventh Harbinger of the Fatui. Nothing. There was nothing and perhaps it is selfish thinking- his family still lives but will they still adore him when they learn of his horrific deed- of what his job genuinely costs.

“ I ᴄᴀɴ’ᴛ ʙʀᴇᴀᴛʜᴇ, ɴᴇᴇᴅ ʏᴏᴜ ʜᴇʀᴇ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴍᴇ..”

The screams were so painful that no one could bare to look for long, the cries so devastating others felt its harsh pangs in their chests. He cried like he was being tortured- cradled her head and damned the very skies for taking something so precious- something that was not for it to take- someone that deserved better.

The people of Liyue granted him the mercy of time with her. His only true gift from those he hurt. They felt the sincerity in his regret and pain.

Hours felt like mere seconds to him and in the setting sun the cold finally dug its claws into him. He could feel the blood in his throat and the raw sting in his eyes. His freezing fingers had to be pried from her lifeless body and still he begged. He pleaded for everything to be a lie- a cruel prank to get him to see how horrible that was of him.

How could she be the only fatality in all this- surely there were others on the water? Her little boat was not the only one out there. Not to say he wished the same fate of other innocents but... did it have to be only her? In the very boat he gifted her when he learned how she adored to just... exist in the middle of the ocean for a short time. To take in the salty air from its source and take in the scenery the archons gifted its people to see.

In the same boat that was now in pieces along various shores and in the unrelenting depths of the ocean. Lost to him forever, just like her.

Her sweet laughter from that day still haunts him, “I’ll believe you if you promise to go out to sea with me when you get back.”, she had said, bargaining with him as if she actually ever needed to. She could tell him to jump and he would have asked her how high.

‘I love you, Ajax. Be safe.’

So, he promised- crossed his heart and hoped to die. Then when would that debt be paid? How long must he wait to be in her presence again?

“ Aɴɢᴇʟs ғᴀʟʟ, ɪᴛ’s ɴᴏᴛ ʏᴏᴜʀ ғᴀᴜʟᴛ..”

The picture painted of her for that day pierced through what was left of his now dead heart. He meant no offense to the artist, but it did no true justice for her. It did not encapsulate her like his cruel mind did. Her eyes felt lacking- the expression was so.. unreal. Yet, silent tears felt all the same.

This was it. He must let her go for good. This is all real- too real. His breathing becomes labored and soon he is doing his best to silently sob. Her painting becomes blurred and, in the midst,... it looks as though she is crying with him. Somehow.

‘You know I’ll always love you, right?’

“ Gᴏᴏᴅʙʏᴇ ᴏʟᴅ ғʀɪᴇɴᴅ. ᴡᴇ’ʟʟ ᴍᴇᴇᴛ ᴀɢᴀɪɴ...”

“Traveler...”, he begins, “Do we have to do this every time? You know what I want... stop denying me for the sake of your own morals... please..”

The outlander looks at him, pity in the swirls of gold staring into his dull blue hues, “You know I can’t, Childe..”

He laughs bitterly, ignoring the way it hurts to do so, “You can- c’mon, it’s not that hard. Your sword is sharp enough. One good blow-”

“You need to move on somehow- take a break and grieve properly stop asking me-”

“Move on? Move on? I am a murderer- I killed her- I deserve to-”, he starts, voice growing angry and so very sad.

“You didn’t do it on purpose. You didn’t want her to...go.”, the outlander says, pools of gold growing brighter in concern, staring upon his form in the ground.

Childe was a mess of sweat and blood, on his back staring up at another whom he deceived, begging to be put out of his misery. Shamelessly so.

He laughs again, this time with a ragged breath, “It should never have been her- it should have been me. It was always supposed to be me first.”, he’s crying now, he’s sure of it. It always turned out this way, usually the tears are left out, “I was never- I never... she was never supposed to even be hurt because of me. Traveler I... I loved her so much- I still love her. I can’t let go- please. I’m begging you- please. End it- end me..”

There was no answer, just silence. There was no saving him and as painful as it was, the wandering traveler left him there on the ground. He never saw this traveler again. In the back of his mind he always wonders if the sibling was found. Was the journey fulfilled- was there a happy ending?

He hopes so. No one deserves to suffer loss in any way.

“I miss you..”, he whispers into the sky, knowing she resides somewhere far past the clouds.

The calm waves of the sea gently rock him in this small boat. There is only one destination for him. He is no longer welcome anywhere else. No one has said so, but he feels it within his soul. A piece is missing, and he will find it once more, one way or another.

“I’m coming home.. I hope you didn’t wait long..”, he says as the blackened clouds start to surround him. The sea below him darkens and he can feel the static of danger in the tense air. The waves start to come alive and he hopes they finally swallow him entirely.

This time, he hopes he will not be found by a pitying soul.

“ Tɪᴍᴇ ɢᴏᴇs ᴏɴ ᴡɪᴛʜᴏᴜᴛ ʏᴏᴜ..”

#genshin impact x reader #childe x reader #genshin Impact childe #genshin impact tartaglia #genshin impact #genshin impact fic #genshin x reader #childe #fatui #ari writes #hi hello #its meee #im sorryyy in advance...

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animeyanderelover · 4 years

Text

What’s good everyone? After writing headcannons for so many Naruto characters, I think it’s only fair if I do the same for Black Butler and Hunter x Hunter as well. Let’s start with Black Butler.

Yandere Phantomhive manor Hc’s

Tw: Yandere themes, unhealthy mindset, unhealthy relationship, possessiveness, obsessiveness, delusions, manipulation, sabotage, controlling behavior, blackmailing, bribing, Yandere being mean, mentions of kidnapping, mentions of killing

Ciel Phantomhive

☕️I’m going with the scenario that he’s still a human in this one. Possessive for sure, I mean he lost his parents and had only his revenge in mind before he met the s/o. He’s aware of his not normal emotions, but does he care? Nope. Consider Elizabeth as done, he’ll break off the engagement immediately.

☕️He’s also an obsessive Yandere mixed together with the strict and manipulative type. He’s fascinated with how obsessed he is with his darling and wants to know why. That’s why he’ll find all available informations about them. Strict because he always needs to be in control and manipulative because...do I even need to tell? Surprisingly clingy, he always needs his s/o near him.

☕️Ciel is possessive and will get jealous fast. When he’s jealous he’ll give the other person a cold and harsh look whilst squeezing his s/o’s hand tightly. He’ll most likely will tell the person something with an underlying threat in it. The other person might not get it, but his darling will and is quick to finish the interaction.

☕️He couldn’t care less about who he has to kill, but as you might have expected he won’t kill them personally. He’ll send Sebastian to take care of whoever is a thorn in his eyes. He’ll kill people who’re too close to you, who flirted with you, who insulted you...The list is long.

☕️As soon as this guy forms his obsession with you he’ll, or to be clear Sebastian will kidnap you. Don’t expect to see the world outside the mansion anytime soon again. He hates taking his darling out, but when he’s invited to balls he needs to take them with him. Better behave or he’ll punish you.

☕️From this list he’s one of the worse ones. He’s cunning and sly what makes him a very dangerous Yandere. However, if you behave he’ll fulfill you every wish you have. If you don’t behave expect to be locked up in your room without food for a few days. But in my opinion the worst is when Ciel uses his words to break you and make you feel like trash.

Sebastian Michaelis

🐈‍⬛Sebastian is a demon which makes him naturally possessive. He’s also the aware Yandere, he might not understand human feelings that well, but he’s sure that they aren’t that strong. He’s probably annoyed and surprised when he discovered his unnatural feelings for you. How did you, a human, manage to make a demon fall in love with you?

🐈‍⬛Just like Ciel he’s also an obsessive and manipulative one mixed with a little bit of the clingy side. He wants to find out what is so different about the s/o that makes his nonexisting heart fluttering in his chest. He’s charming and knows that and you can bet that he’s going to use this on his darling. He’ll wrap them up in sweet lies to make them become more distant from others and to spend their whole time with him. This feeling is new to him and it’s rare for demons to find true love so you can bet your ass that he’ll clinge to your side as often and long as possible. He’s extremely overprotective over you, his mate.

🐈‍⬛He’s terribly possessive of his darling and gets jealous fast, but since he’s very composed he can hold out for quite some time with a smile on his face which might look just a little bit forced. But if his patience is over it will become scary. The air suddenly turns heavy and...did Sebastian’s eyes just turn pink and did his teeth look sharper than usual or was that just an imagination? This will scare anyone away.

🐈‍⬛He’s more careful with the killing because if his master finds out about it he’ll have a huge problem, but he definitely kills for the s/o. He kills everyone who takes a liking to the s/o, touches the s/o, tries to take them away from him and much more. But the most horrible deaths are given to the people who hurt and/or made his darling cry. This people will see the true rage of a demon.

🐈‍⬛He would definitely kidnap his darling, but I think he will at first try to do it differently. He’ll offer them a job in the manor and will convince Ciel to accept them, after all Ciel trusts Sebastian and will agree. If only this guy knew what Sebastian’s true intentions are. When the s/o agrees Sebastian will nearly spend every minute with them together and if they struggle with a task he’s more than happy to help. If the s/o refuses the job then he’ll resort to kidnapping. He’ll take them to a small cottage at a secure place and will lock them up in there. But don’t worry too much he makes sure that your every need is taken care off.

🐈‍⬛Sebastian is in a yellow zone. He’s heartless to anyone he thinks as a threat of, but to you he’ll be a true gentleman. It’s hard to anger this guy enough to become angry with you, but even then he would never hurt you. He’ll most likely let some parts of his demon form appear and will tower over you with glowing eyes, scaring the living shit out of you.

Finny

🌻One of the most delusional Yanderes on this planet. He is completely sure that his s/o loves him just as much as he loves them, no matter what anyone tells him. Also a worshipper and lovestruck one. He thinks of his darling as some kind of god/goddess and loves them more than anything else. But due to his delusions he sees his s/o as someone weak who needs his protection which he is more than happy to give them.

🌻Also a clingy Yandere, he treasures every moment with the s/o and whenever he doesn’t need to work he immediately hurries to his s/o to smoother them in affection and love. Obsessive and wants to know everything about his darling.

🌻He is someone who gets jealous easily. He thinks of the s/o as some kind of god/goddess and in this boy’s delusional mind it’s clear that anyone else wants his darling for theirselves. And there’s no chance he’ll let that happen.

🌻Finny is incredibly strong and is not afraid to hurt others. He thinks that everyone wants to take you away from him and is willing to leave a bloodbath behind if it means keeping you safe from any harm.

🌻Kidnapping depends on his darling’s acting towards him. If they love him as well, or at least pretend to do it, then he won’t lock them up, but if they resist him he’ll take them.

🌻He’s very delusional and that makes this whole situation very dangerous. In his mind every horrific thing he does is justified by his love for you. He’ll isolate you from other humans if you resist him to make you understand his love for you and might even break your legs if triggered enough. He’ll tell you that he did it because you would get hurt if he isn’t there to protect you. But because of his delusion he’s also very easy to manipulate. Pretend to love him and you’re free to walk around the mansion. It all depends on his darling’s behavior.

Bardroy

🚬Bardroy is harder to imagine as a Yandere, but I’ll give it a try. I think he’s an overprotective one given his past. He’ll always keep a close eye on his s/o and if they’re about to do something that in his mind might be dangerous for them he’ll stop them and asks them to let him do it for them. His darling is always within his reach. Due to his overprotectiveness I can see him as a manipulative Yandere, he does feel guilty when lying, but justifies it by saying that it will keep them safe in the end.

🚬Also the lovestruck Yandere. In this guy’s eyes you’re perfect and beautiful from every angle. He’s aware of his feelings and I can see him as someone who’s ashamed of them.

🚬He is a really impatient guy and that counts for his darling’s interaction with other persons too. But his reaction wouldn’t be that bad like some others. He would openly show his jealousy and dislike for the other persons whilst pulling the s/o closer to him. But a few soft spoken words from his s/o would be enough to calm him down and let them continue.

🚬This guy was a soldier so he’s used to killing people, but he has some honor so he won’t kill everyone. He only kills someone when that person hurts his darling or tries to take them away from him. Then he’ll grab a gun and ends that person’s life with a few shots.

🚬He doesn’t like the thought of kidnapping you at first, but then again he saw some bad stuff and will get paranoid quickly. If his s/o gets hurt then he’ll nearly have a mental breakdown before grabbing his darling and taking them with him, making sure that they can never be harmed again.

🚬Baldroy is overall one of the better Yanderes from this list, he treats you good and will try to spoil you as good as he can. All he really wants is your love and he would be over the moon if you would give it to him.

Mey-Rin

👓Mey-Rin is very shy about approaching her darling so she just watches them most of the time from the distance which makes her a stalker. Also a lovestruck Yandere. She supports you in whatever you do and if someone says something against the s/o or their work she’ll quickly defend them.

👓She’s an overprotective one. She didn’t have a pretty past either, no one from the servants had, so it’s only logical that she watches you like a hawk. Also clingy and manipulative. She wants her darling’s attention on her all the time and will somehow always end up near them. Might also use her clumsiness to get her darling to spend more time with her, making sure to stumble over her own feet more often than normally just to see her s/o rushing towards her and asking if she’s alright.

👓Clingy Yanderes are more easily jealous because they want their s/o’s attention on them. That counts for Mey-Rin as well. She’ll give the person a glare, but no one will see it because her glasses hide her eyes. Will most likely pretend to trip over the air and pretend to be hurt so her s/o’s attention shifts towards her.

👓She is a sniper and has killed people before and she’ll do it again for her darling’s sake. But only if someone gives her a good reason to, for example causing her darling pain or confessing to them.

👓Due to her clumsiness she’ll convince you to start working in the manor and her s/o will most likely agree, thinking that they can take care of her like this better. But if they think like this they’ll just do what Mey-Rin wants them to. If her darling refuses the job Mey-Rin will guilt trip them. She’s good at this, believe me, and after some time her darling will agree, feeling horrible for her.

👓She’s really cute for you, but don’t let yourself get fooled from this. She can be really cruel if she wants to be. This girl has two faces to her and makes sure you only see the clumsy one.

Bonus: Elizabeth Midford

🎀Elizabeth is a clingy and obsessive Yandere. She loves nothing more than when you give her your attention and makes sure that she can spend every single moment with her darling. Expect a lot cute parties where she’ll dress you up like a china doll. She loves her s/o and wants to know every little detail of them, wanting to make sure that everything is towards their liking because if you think this girl won’t shower you with gifts you’re dead wrong.

🎀She’s also a manipulative type. Like Mey-Rin she has two different sides to her and will use that. She really hates manipulating her darling and only does it if she has no other options left.

🎀As mentioned before she loves it when her darling’s attention is on her and feels sour whenever they give it to someone else. She’ll clinge onto her s/o’s arm and tries to make them pay attention to her. If that doesn’t work she’ll shortly drop her cute facade, of course without the s/o seeing, and will give the other person a glare. This’ll be unsettling for everyone because this is so out of character for Lizzy.

🎀She would never kill someone. She uses other ways. Her family is from a really high status and she’ll use that for her advantage to give every person that did wrong to her darling a hard time.

🎀Kidnapping is out of option too. She’s basically all the time with the s/o so there’s no need for kidnapping. But if her darling wants to spend some time without her she might use her manipulation to change their mind. But that’s all.

🎀Overall one of the better Yanderes from this list. She wants her darling to be happy and nothing will stop her from making them. But keep in mind that a coin has two sides.

#yandere black butler #yandere kuroshitsuji #yandere ciel #yandere ciel phantomhive #yandere sebastian #yandere sebastian michaelis #yandere finny #yandere finnian #yandere bardroy #yandere mey-rin #yandere elizabeth #yandere elizabeth midford #yandere lizzy

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