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leam1983 · 3 years ago

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Cyberpunk: Edgerunners - Quickie

There's something to the tone of this CD Projekt RED-produced and Studio TRIGGER-developed offshoot of a troubled AAA game that's an even better representation of the original Cyberpunk 2020 tone than V's own adventures could ever hope to be.

The first five episodes are tone-setters, and the last five are stake-builders, to the point where you don't really need to have played Cyberpunk 2077 to be able to follow along. The format may be a bit disorienting, as characters frequently exchange plot details through visually-projected conference calls (similar to 2077's, minus the animated vignettes), but it at least has the merit of laying everything out clearly. You're effectively infodumped, but provided you can keep up, the pace quickly ends up feeling natural.

What absolutely is going to be a bit odd to some is the weird juxtaposition of Mike Pondsmith's Glasgow Smile-sporting rendition of terminal Capitalism, rendered as is the case in-game with a generous dose of Californian umber tones and plenty of pink neon framing; and character designs and movement studies that are, well, effectively ripped out of Kill La Kill or Gurren Lagann. Car chases that would normally be rendered in teeth-clenching seriousness either in the game or in the pen-and-paper system here turn into automotive ping-pong, with the Anime's designers playing extremely fast and delightfully loose with the various guns' power levels.

That's without mentioning the final piece of ordnance the final two episodes introduce, which sort of rips a chuckle out of you. There is definitely a point where the script for the miniseries turns into loose bylines that basically say "do whatever the Hell you want with these characters, Pondsmith's usually-prescribed tone suggests nobody's going to make it out alive, anyway."

Not that everyone actually dies, but it's clear that TRIGGER thought that past a certain point, they were free to more or less grab the characters like a child does random action figures and then smash them together while making Mouth Explosion noises. That might seem like a bad thing, but in-context; it's absolutely fine.

So, what's the plot? Well, we open to the dreary routine of one David Martinez, seventeen years old, enrolled in Arasaka Corporation's private academy. His mother is the Santo Domingo Salt-of-the-Earth type, a Night City Medical paramedic who didn't quite make the cut for Trauma Team but who's working shift after shift in order to cover her son's exorbitant tuition and equipment-related fees. Martinez himself is the type to play it fast and loose with his program's requirements, mostly to save his mom a buck or two. It works for a while, but a mixture of his own hubris and of the academy's festering elitism sees him kicked out. Before long, you're shown that even washing machine cycles running on private laundry setups are paid-for, and that Megabuildings are mostly a place for people to squat in, as opposed to thriving in.

As you can expect, Karma deals the Martinezes an excessively crummy hand, and David soon finds himself alone. Not only alone, but also expelled from school, denied housing - and with no obvious employment opportunities. None, that is, except Edgerunning.

As a term, Edgerunning's always struck me as, well, being needlessly edgy, at the risk of feeling facile. What Pondsmith's referring to is a string of high-risk, high-reward criminal entreprises, within the scope of which a brush with death is a constant possibility. Traditionally, anyone who runs a Cyberpunk pen-and-paper campaign has to provide that extreme sense of tension, something you'd find in Dungeons & Dragons if you over-leveled your mobs or that's inherent to more masochistic game systems along the lines of Zweihander. A Cyberpunk should, canonically, always be on the run from someone, running towards something, and be led along a high-stakes tale that's less about crushing the System, and more about setting the stage so you can die trying.

In that respect, the Anime's work is flawless. What starts as Transhuman pickpocketing gigs devolves into a series of individually-small mistakes, said mishaps setting the stage for a proper settling of Cyberpsychosis as a concept. TRIGGER's tone goes from the usual bursts of jovial eccentricity you know them for and then takes a hard-left into personal trauma and all-consuming drives - and of what happens when your ambitions ultimately consume you. I'm especially surprised by the visual tells they've designed for Cyberpsychos, typically beginning as eerily fluid eye-jitters in the middle of the usual expanse of TV-grade low-FPS rendering, and then devolving into blink-and-you'll-miss-it stylistic changes and warped proportions that really sell the notion of what a proper case of psychosis is - which is a variably clean break from reality.

The pacing, however, is all over the place. The first episodes feel lovingly crafted, comfortably stretching out to let the source material breathe, while the second half spiders off into a handful of side-plots that don't all consistently lead somewhere. Some characters disappear without much fanfare and appear without much more consideration. All that's missing is one of YouTube's signature comedians known for their loud and random insertions to barge in and yell "ELLIPSIS!" during a scene change.

"ELLIPSIS! DAVID IS SHREDDED NOW, DON'T ASK QUESTIONS! ELLIPSIS! THEY HAVE A FIXER NOW, AND GIANCARLO ESPOSITO IS HAMMING IT UP FOR A PAYCHECK! ELLIPSIS! MARTINEZ IS HAVING MENTAL HEALTH ISSUES!"

On the plus-side, one of these weird jump-cuts is a rather obvious callback to the game's notorious bugginess upon release, with Martinez phasing through an oncoming car just before a sudden and jarringly hilarious four-lane car T-Bone-a-ganza occurs and sends Night City's big and chunky Chevillons flying across the screens like pool balls bouncing around.

The series acts like the viewer's just going to pick things up as they go without much lag, and expects them to pick up on concepts mentioned once and never properly framed. That leads to a situation where the preferrable watching experience is Ye Olde Netflix Binge Watch, seeing as everything can remain consistently fresh. If you watch one episode per day or week, you might find yourself asking "Who's that guy again? Why does he have four eyes? Why the Hell is Arasaka Counterintel getting involved, again? Why do people repeat words all the time?"

There's a missable bit in 2077's prologue where, after being poked about his spotless Innocent Schoolboy impersonation, Jackie Welles half-jokingly and half-defensively replies "I'm always never not nice!" That last sentence's concept - inverting values to sort of elongate a structure - becomes oddly prevalent after Episode 6, as if it had been elected as part of the lingo at the same level as preem, choom, nova and so on. It's cute the first few times, but soon becomes annoying.

Otherwise, if you've gone through multiple playthroughs of 2077 like I have, you'll realize that a lot of the Anime's set designs are faithful renditions of certain early-game locations. It's fun, but you'd figure not every Megabuilding apartment has to look exactly like V's, and that not every Scavenger den has to look like where we're tasked to save Sandra Dorsett. It's less of a problem as the series opens up, but the early episodes do feel like the producers had a field day referencing in-engine stills.

So, is it max nova, or should you ghost on it? Well, choombhatta; I'd say it depends. If you're expecting true-blue CD Projekt RED grit, you'll be left scratching your head. If you wondered what Night City would look like if the highs were so high as to turn cartoony, and so low as to make V's own sojourn feel sobering in contrast, you'll get some sense of it here.

#cyberpunk 2077 #cyberpunk edgerunners #cdprojekt red #studio trigger #netflix #video games #anime #kill la kill #tengen toppa gurren lagann #review

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duskwoodraven · 4 years ago

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Okay! 👏👏 I’d say it’s time for the long after episode MWAF theory/pick apart everything! Of course this will be littered with lots of spoilers so don’t read if you haven’t finished ep 8 yet!

Now as a sort of disclaimer, I know that some people are preparing to throw the Richy is the MWAF theory out the window, which I do not blame them for by this point. The game has screamed over and over again that Richy is gone yet I can’t help but hold on to my theory to the bitter end.😅 I hope everyone has an open mind to what I have to say on the matter. Maybe there will be some points or reminders to help you find your own take on the topic as I explain my own thoughts in the process.

———

First of all, one of the things that has bothered me since the ending is that they still haven’t explained this very basic fact about the MWAF. How in the world did the MWAF know about the group’s investigations and MC’s involvement?

I touched upon this in my last couple theories where I pushed for Richy’s guiltiness by explaining that for the MWAF to know that Jessy would be out on a walk with us, or to know Richy wouldn’t be at Rogers Garage when he was marked, or even knowing we agreed to help this investigation at all, he would need access to the group chats. He would need to know basic information about the groups whereabouts and plan according to it. Not answering this basic fact would leave a gaping hole in the plot.

Micheal Hanson by what we know, left Duskwood more then a year ago, essentially a missing person in the eyes of Duskwood. The group apparently didn’t even know his name so none of them would have told him directly what they were up to. The only way he might be getting information about anything is from Phil, who was being told everything by Jessy herself. That might be plausible if you squint, but yet we know Jessy and Phil’s relationship was even worse in the beginning episodes, I highly doubt Jessy would tell Phil much about herself and the investigation and there is no saying if Phil would even think to move this information along to Michael if he was even in contact with the old bar owner at the time. Also we received a call from the MWAF the very first time we talked to Dan, waaaay in the beginning episodes, we didn’t even know who Phil was at that point, yet the MWAF knew who we were almost immediately.

Then I played with the idea that the MWAF was using an encryption like Alan was or using a spy mode like Jake is, to read everything secretly, but that idea was tossed out too. Michael was a bar owner not a hacker or police investigator, there is little reason to believe he’d know how to do something like that, nor would anyone in his life teach him how to do it either.

(Also as a bonus point for why the MWAF might be Richy, the MWAF didn’t seem to be aware that Jessy and Thomas were heading to the house at all, he still had his candles lit and “art” up so he couldn’t have prepared for their arrival and hide. He might have only noticed Thomas and Jessy where there when he saw the car. This took place after we removed Richy from the chat as well so...)

Secondly, the MWAF’s motivation, why would Michael wait 10 years to take revenge for his daughter and why is he mainly attacking the group over it? For benefit of the doubt, Michael is the few suspects who has a possible motive that makes some sort of sense, yet it’s such a drastic leap in logic for him to attack the group at all.

If Michael is the MWAF and he’s attacking people for revenge, then why would he take Hannah, who we know feels guilty over Jennifer’s death and seems to be working to find out the truth about the case, and kidnap her. She’s trying to bring justice to his daughter, so why would Jennifer’s own father try and interrupt that process? Even if Hannah somehow helped cause Jennifer’s death (reminder that Hannah would have been a child by this point) we know she wasn’t the true killer, it was a man who hit her with a car and took her body into the woods. If Michael really wanted further revenge, killing that man should have been on the top of his priorities, not Hannah.

The hostility he has towards the group is also strange, for a man who cares only for revenge, he seems oddly determined to wipe out everyone, that sounds more like a man who is afraid of being caught then a man who just wants to take down the people who hurt his daughter in the past. That doesn’t sound like the role of a grieving father to me.

And once again he has waited a long time to seek out this revenge anyway, this man was apparently a sheep herder of sorts according to Lily before he disappeared, why come back at all? A parent who lost their child will never lose the pain of that child’s absence, but you’d think the burning embers of revenge would simmer down after 10 years of time and reflection, what could have triggered him to come back? And why would he pick the most foolish spot to set up his base? He should know he was suspected in the past, setting up camp at his own house will easily connect him to the crime as Lilly had demonstrated by throwing out this theory at the end of the episode.

I think it’s more possible for someone else to use Michael Hanson’s house as a coverup to throw off suspicion of himself. Yet who knows? Maybe he is foolish enough to do that lol.

Thirdly, the inconsistency of the legend, the MWAF is not doing a good job at being consistent. He is not taking the people he marked at the first moon of the year and he is also killing them. The original book did not state the people who are taken will die, simply that they will disappear, yet the MWAF supposedly set out to kill Richy, but doesn’t kill Hannah.

And we now know Hannah is most likely alive at this moment because the MWAF stated so in the phone call he was going to kill her. I don’t think he’s lying because it would honestly benefit him more to kill Hannah and tell the group that he did to destroy the groups moral completely rather than keeping her alive.

With these inconsistencies, why should we trust the rules of the legend, they seem to be more like guidelines for the MWAF then actual facts.

Heck, when we talked to Darkness, he told us that the MWAF takes his victims to kill them, something not stated in the book at all.

From this, the book may very well be wrong and unreliable, perhaps the MWAF is following a different legend, a different version of the tale that Darkness might know about. Either way, it would be unwise to connect Micheal to the MWAF simply because of what the legend says until we know why these inconsistencies are taking place.

Basically what I am trying to say, the group is accepting Michael as guilty too fast for my taste, the only facts we have for Michael being the one who did it is that he’s 1. The father of Jennifer 2. The legend we first read was about a father taking revenge 3. We found the MWAF’s “art” inside Michaels old house. 4. Not many people know where Michael is.

That is enough evidence to have someone arrested and investigated, not to convict them of a crime.

———

So do I still think Richy is guilty? Well... somewhat.

I still firmly believe Richy has the most evidence pointed to him and would have the ability to execute the actions we have seen the MWAF take, he would have had access to group chats, his body is still missing like I figured it would be, and he has the knowledge of Duskwood’s history and landscape. He truly is a perfect fit in many ways in my own opinion except for how he fits into this legend and what his motivation could possibly be. Plus the fact that his hat was bloody when it was found, I don’t know if Richy would be capable of harming himself on purpose to make everything more convincing.

All and all, questions still need to be answered and I don’t want to be too hasty in declaring who the MWAF truly is until we can rip the mask off of his face and get him behind bars for good 😌

I’ll be interested to hear your takes on this below, and I’ll probably expand on this conversation when I think of more relevant points or to explain my idea more in-depth if anyone is confused over this post, thanks for reading til the end! 💛

#duskwood #duskwood everbyte #duskwood game #everbyte #duskwood memes #duskwood player #duskwood richy #duskwood mwaf #duskwood theories #richy is guilty #michael is guilty #duskwood michael #duskwood theory #spoilers episode 8 #episode 8 #duskwood ep 8 #duskwood ep 8 spoilers #duskwood episode 8 spoilers #duskwood ideas

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fandom-scatteredthoughtsonpaper · 4 years ago

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Hi hi! i think you said asks were open in your newest post? If not feel free to ignore this lol

I would love to see headcannons of an MC who, though acting brave, gets very scared of the brothers

example after lucifer and the grimoire and such? like MC slowly becomes MORE scared of them, and tries to hide it, but it's getting obvious that theyre scared if that makes sense lol 💖

Ahhhhh, sorry this took longer than it necessarily should have! I feel like I was much closer to what you wanted with this request than the other, so hopefully you'll enjoy it too ❤️

GN MC THAT PROGRESSIVELY FEARS THE BROTHERS

Living with demons is hard, especially when they're the rulers of hell, err, the Devildom.

Sure, there's the implication they're not supposed to hurt or do anything harmful to you, as you have the safety of being an exchange student, but that veil of ignorance was quickly lifted before even the two week mark of living with these brothers.

You've tried getting along with them, and for the most part you've been successful, but a few circumstances have arisen that have reminded you that these boys are dangerous demons... and you're the human that keeps poking the three-headed dog while it sleeps.

Mammon:

You're not so much scared of what Mammon could physically do, but you're paranoid that he goes into your room and rummages in your belongings and personal keepsakes. Your room is the only thing you have that you can claim as your own, and it's your sanctuary, despite it being in the brothers' house.

Of course, the brothers will periodically just barge in without alerting you by asking or knocking, but you've grown okay with that. You're at least in your room and able to see what they do in there. There are a few occasions Levi or Satan might mention going into your bedroom to retrieve a video game or book they had loaned you, but you make sure to put their item on the dresser by the entrance, so they don't have to venture too far in. You're okay with that.

You're not okay, however, with Mammon when he goes into your room unannounced. Hell, you're not totally comfortable with him being in your room unattended if he does give you a heads-up.

You know how kleptomaniac Mammon can be. You've heard enough complaints and stories to know how relentless Mammon can be in his search for anything that could give him a few Grimm from his brothers. You've talked with this greedy demon about items he's stolen, witnessed thefts a few times too.

So, you feel something akin to victimized when Mammon goes into your room without your permission or you being there. Your room emits this vibe of disturbance, and it bothers you because you don't know what might be missing or "borrowed". It troubles you more because now your room feels foreign again, like the atmosphere was plagued by essences that you know aren't yours. Your anxiety swells with paranoia, fear, and mistrust again.

Leviathan:

Oh, for the most part, you don't have much conflict with Levi anymore. Once you made a pact with the otaku demon he relaxed a lot more and invited you to hang out in his room to play games or fuss about animation qualities in animes or gush about his favorite manga characters.

It's just that after that contest of who was the bigger TSL fan and Levi, enveloped by jealousy and fury, came at you with the intent to seriously harm you, you've had this overly-suspicious fear in the back of your mind, itching your paranoia that it could happen again.

You've learned that Levi's demon form is easily triggered by extreme feelings, rather that's excitement, irritability, or the emotion he avatars over, and you can't help be irritationally cautious when that happens. It's a reflex from the panic that engraved itself into your psyche for self-preservation.

If you weren't so anxious about another envy-fueled incident involving your life you might find Levi's excitement for the stuff he loves more endearing and cute.

Beelzebub:

If you hadn't seen how destructive Beel's tantrums over food firsthand could be you might find it hard to believe this relaxed and mostly uninvolved brother would have such a temper... but you did experience it, so you do believe it.

It was a custard! They're so easy to get more of, but Beel immediately flew off the handle and wouldn't see reasoning, lashing out and destroying the kitchen. If Mammon hadn't pulled you down with him to the floor as Beel started his outraged tantrum you're positive you would have been collateral damage too, like your poor room that was unfortunately placed on the other side of the kitchen wall.

It was a terrifying sight to behold, seeing the kitchen torn asunder and reduced to broken walls, obliterated cabinets, and smashed counters, with kitchen utensils and ruined cookware being sent into flight and raining down, razor-sharp and shattered into broken edges that could easily pierce flesh.

That moment of destruction lingers, along with the intense emotion of fright, triggered whenever Beel complains about being hungry or when he meets your gaze at the table during times to eat. You immediately offer your unfinished plate to him, which he happily accepts and consumes in seconds, to appease the Avatar of Gluttony's temper.

Asmodeus:

Asmo's promiscuity and salaciousness are what unnerve you the most. He's the Avatar of Lust, so obviously you were already on your defense, but you've seen glimpses beyond the surface level to what Asmo can be like. That's what intrigues you about him, and you try to focus on those bits that slip past his perfectionistic lifestyle and narcissistic personality. At the same time, however, this is the cause of your near downfalls when Asmo tries to allure you with his physical prowess.

He's tried a few times to charm you, and you feel this invasive power trying to persuade you to give into your raw and sexual temptations, or this tugging sensation that tries to attract you beyond what you feel is comfortable. The repulsed response is usually what repels you from the power Asmo tries to flaunt over you.

He usually huffs after his failed attempt but quickly rebounds by placing his hands around you and trying to embrace you himself, which Mammon, prompted by his denied feelings and jealousy, usually intercepts in your honor.

There's a few times you've worried yourself nauseous Asmo will corner you, and you won't be able to save yourself from his lustful persuasion. There's also the couple of times he's mentioned eating your heart, so that's also worrisome.

Satan:

There's no questions that you secretly fear Satan, more specifically his wrath. You slighted him once before, and the threat he imposed upon you while you were trapped between his demonic form and an over-stuffed bookcase was enough to brand itself to your soul as a reminder.

As docile as Satan may appear with his affection for cats, deep interest for detective shows, and shared affinity of books he could and, possibly, would rip you apart and lavish in the blood that wept from your lacerated flesh and tension of your bones rebelling before snapping satisfactory in halves and thirds.

Other than that, Satan is much easier to hang out with compared to his brothers, except when he gets that cruel temperament to torment Lucifer, which you exempt yourself from if the pranks are too excessive.

Belphegor:

Terror has never seeped into your soul like this before. Your anxiety spikes to levels you've never experienced before when Belphie plops down next to you on the couch or tries to start up a conversation. Your fight, flight, freeze, or fawn system goes haywire, and you become petrified, unable to respond properly.

You either stay away from Belphie altogether or stay glued to one of the other brothers, Mammon or Beel preferably. Just in case.

Just in case Belphie's lament arises again in the form of murderous hate, gleeful contempt clouding his eyes, as his hands find their way to your neck that remembers the tight embrace his fingers engraved into the nerves of your throat, the ghostly suffocating that chokes you up sometimes if you become too immersed in the memory of a body that hadn't belonged to you.

You're also sure you remember an aching in your ribs and spine that causes you to shiver sometimes, but you're not sure if you experienced that in a dream or illusion of the timeline merging. It still bothers you all the same.

For such a sweet face and quiet voice, Belphie is a demon that decieves, and you're better off staying away from him until you're over your PTSD. If that's possible.

Lucifer:

How many times has he almost killed you? Twice or three times? Enough to be too many and to penetrate your core with panic and trepidation whenever you see that sly smile that forms on his lips. It doesn't have to be directed at you, but it's enough to launch you into a panic attack that you barely keep under control.

That safety guard of being a representative from the human world and exchange student mean nothing when you test it by being a busybody in affairs that definitely don't involve you over and over again, especially when it's the pride and dignity of Lucifer being tested.

You hear your lesson but never learn, and unconsciously you must be masochistic for how many times you've brushed death with Lucifer's anger, but you keep pushing the limits.

You can't help going to Mammon's defense when you feel Lucifer is only targeting him for personal reasons or standing up to his ego when you feel he's going over his limits. Your bravery is stupidity though, and you feel your courageous backbone turn into a central nerve system of adrenaline and fear. You're just too stubborn and self-righteous to let Lucifer do as he pleases, but that doesn't mean you're not scared out of your wits.

You've gained an intuition for when Lucifer is approaching or silently comes up from behind you, and it sends a shiver down your back almost every time you're alone together.

If you have any headcanons that you want me to write, please send them my way! I enjoy writing these out. NSFW is okay, but please know I might not do it if I don’t like it. ❤️

#obey me #obey me mammon #obey me lucifer #obey me asmo #obey me asmodeus #obey me beel #obey me belphegor #obey me belphie #obey me levi #obey me leviathan #obey me beelzebub #obey me satan #obey me headcanons #things from the inbox #jess writes #obey me requests #simpfortheseven

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pinknatural · 4 years ago

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When the Empty made the deal with Castiel, it had felt a sense of smug satisfaction. After all, what better way to punish the wayward angel then to take away his happiness? Either Castiel is happy, and the Empty can take him, or Castiel is never happy, living his life afraid of being taken. The Empty wonders how long the angel will be able to wallow in misery. A long time, probably.

It’s a calculated punishment, and the Empty is very pleased with itself for coming up with it. How clever it is, and how perfect a punishment! This will teach Castiel what happens when you mess with the Empty.

The Empty is contented to wait, busy with how loud the stupid nephil made it and with trying to manage the others within it’s ranks, but then Castiel goes and feels his true happiness, and when the Empty goes to retrieve him it finds that Death herself is also there for it to take. How delicious. The Empty already has one Death, and thinks it ought to start a collection.

The Empty doesn’t know what Castiel expects, but it deposits him between Lucifer and Michael. They are awake, as is everyone, and the Empty must work to fix that, but for now Castiel may deal with the consequences of his actions. How many of these angels has Castiel killed? How many of these demons?

Yes, the Empty thinks, grimly satisfied with it’s work, Castiel will be properly punished. He will be in agony while he is awake, and when he sleeps the Empty will make sure that the angel is dreaming of his regrets, of his failures. Castiel will have a terrible eternity, this is for sure, and the Empty will go to sleep, and be at peace, and will win. It is as inevitable as all death is.

Except, of course, that the Empty failed to calculate one thing.

An insignificant human man wearing a flannel shirt holds on to Castiel with one arm, cradling his sleeping body against his chest, and with his other arm he holds out a gun, pointed directly to the manifestation of the Empty. The Empty is torn apart, ripped apart, holes in its very foundation. It can feel angels and demons escaping it, slipping out the gaping wounds like blood, seeping back into the regular plane. It is manifested as a gooey black humanoid, and it is on the ground, staring up at Dean Winchester.

“How is this possible?” it spits, and Dean Winchester has blood on his face and his gun arm is steady.

A day ago, the Empty was eternal and infinite. A day ago, the Empty had won.

Today, the Empty thinks it is about to die. It wonders where it will go.

“A month ago I killed God,” Dean Winchester says, his face impassive. “An ancient cosmic entity is nothing, asshat.”

“You are bluffing,” the Empty says. “God is not dead. He would be here.”

“Oh, that’s right,” Dean Winchester says dangerously. “God begged me to kill him, and I refused. I won’t give you the same luxury.”

“What did I do wrong?” the Empty cries. “All I did was my duty--collect angels and demons, make them sleep. Castiel is just another angel--just a number, added to my ranks.” Dean Winchester’s grip tightens on Castiel, and his face hardens.

“You’re wrong,” Dean Winchester snarls, and the Empty wails.

“Do you know how many angels and demons are escaping, right now?” it asks. “Do you really want to set demons like Azazel or Abaddon free? Angels like Zachariah? Or Lucifer?”

Dean Winchester’s face doesn’t change.

“Who killed those people?” he asks, his voice quiet, and the Empty evaluates, freezes.

“You did,” it says, surprised.

“Yes,” Dean Winchester says. The word is heavy. It sounds like a promise. “And I’ll do it again. And Cas’ll be right beside me.”

“I didn’t calculate for this,” the Empty says. It is not an excuse, just--a statement.

“You should’ve,” Dean Winchester says, and then his finger tightens on the trigger, and the Empty knows no more.

#deancas #dean winchester #castiel #supernatural #long post

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jamiiviper · 5 years ago

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The Jamil Essay

this is a reupload of a post i made a couple of weeks ago - previously it was an external link to a google doc, so it never showed up in any of the twst tags, but i worked so hard on this and i would really love it if more people read it, so i’m reuploading directly to tumblr.

to put it simply, this is a 3.7k word character analysis purely about jamil. and even with a word count like that i wasn’t quite able to cover everything i wanted to say, so who knows, maybe there’ll be a part 2 one day. i’ve also decided i do want to write a kalim version, so i’ll probably start working on that sometime soon! stay tuned!

trigger warnings: mentions of child abuse

jamil is the vice dorm leader of scarabia, who’s been kalim’s caretaker practically since birth. he puts on a facade of not standing out, preferring to remain completely average, and plans his life around kalim’s antics. as we learned in chapter 4, however, his true feelings are that he bears a lot of resentment towards kalim, and that he wants to stand out - he just wasn’t allowed to, as he can never surpass kalim.

in this essay i want to cover not just my personal interpretation of jamil, but also some common misconceptions that people tend to have about him. twitter doesn’t have this problem as much, but with tumblr i’ve found that there are very few jamil stans, especially in the theory and writing communities - meaning it’s quite common for people to misunderstand his character. in the fandom as a whole, it’s common for people to only acknowledge him insofar as “gay for kalim”.

firstly, jamil’s character development in the main story - i would say he’s arguably the best-developed character in twst, since yana now has enough chapters available to flesh out characters after their main story arc ended. jamil holds very deep-seated resentment against kalim, to the point that he plotted to betray him for probably several years. he plotted to have kalim not just thrown out of nrc, but thoroughly ruin his reputation in the process. after his overblot, those feelings did not magically vanish - far from it. i think earlier twst chapters suffered from arcs being wrapped up a little too neatly post-overblot, but pomefiore’s arc has already proved itself to be the exception and thoroughly covers not just jamil’s continued dislike for kalim, but also the wider consequences for what he did.

since the twst school year begins in september, we know jamil is about 9 months older than kalim. from literally the day kalim was born, jamil’s life has been dedicated to kalim. possibly since the day jamil was born, and he was always fated to be kalim’s caretaker. it may even have been the reason he was born at all. either way, it’s not like he remembers those 9 months. all jamil has ever known is that his sole purpose must be to serve kalim. he must not have desires of his own, he must not do anything for himself - from childhood he was expected to be ready to give up his life for kalim at a moment’s notice. he can’t be good at anything - kalim must always be better (i’ll cover this in more depth in a later paragraph, this philosophy is key to his character). his own parents drilled this into him, even going to the extent of hitting him if he didn’t comply. it seems he has a normal relationship with his family despite this - he bickers with his sister like regular siblings, and pre-overblot he indicated that his desire to be free from servitude wasn’t just about him, he wanted to free his family. nonetheless, the psychological damage his childhood caused him is severe. is it any wonder his unique magic is mind control, when he’s never had an ounce of control over his own life?

moving onto his early teen years, we know both jamil and kalim were severely poisoned at one point, both falling into comas for around two weeks. although we don’t have a timeframe for jamil’s coma, we know kalim’s was when they were around 13 years old. if jamil’s was around this age too - probably a short while afterwards - i think it’s plain to see why jamil’s resentment began to build. he’d have been around the age where he first started to question why his life has to revolve around kalim. why should he be expected to die for someone he doesn’t even like, who’s spoiled and doesn’t realise how much jamil does for him? kalim takes everything for granted: status, friendships, freedom, and jamil is meanwhile left in the shadows with nothing. then one day kalim gets poisoned so badly he falls into a coma - how much do you want to bet jamil was blamed for that, at the age of 13? after that he’s expected to taste-test anything kalim eats beforehand, and eventually starts making all his meals for him because the risk of poison is so high otherwise. then one day he slips up, or it’s an undetectable poison, and jamil is the one to fall into a coma. is anyone blamed for that? does anyone pity jamil outside of his immediate family + kalim? no, probably not. after all, he’s just doing his duty, right? it’s truly… no wonder jamil’s resentment became so intense. he finally has proof that his life truly does not matter. although kalim certainly cares about him, he doesn’t understand jamil’s position. he sees jamil as a friend, an equal; jamil knows this can never be the case, and he also knows kalim is too privileged to ever hope to understand.

fast forward on a couple of years to jamil receiving his nrc acceptance letter. he thinks that finally, finally he’s going to be free. four years of freedom - and who knows, maybe after that he can be free forever! he can finally excel at his classes and be his true self, without fear of upstaging kalim!

and then kalim gets accepted a month late. for no reason other than his surname.

and then kalim gets sorted into his dorm.

it’s a miracle he didn’t just overblot on the spot - but that’s his nature as a scarabia student. careful foresight and planning. this moment was, undoubtedly, the moment he started planning his betrayal. he had his one month of freedom ripped away, just like that.

oh, don’t forget the fact that not long after, kalim was made dorm leader not because he notably embodies scarabia values at all, but because of nepotism. (side note: most scarabia stans agree kalim does actually reflect scarabia values, just not as obviously as jamil does, but either way jamil himself wouldn’t see it this way. this is a jamil essay so i won’t go in depth about this unless asked to!)

under kalim’s watch, scarabia - known for its intelligence and cunning - is turned into “the party dorm”. this seems to be the fandom’s perception of them too - i mean, just ask any non-scarabia stan what goes on in scarabia, that’s probably the answer they’ll give you. jamil would have probably loved the original scarabia; although we don’t know much about it, we know scarabia students are on a par with octavinelle when it comes to intelligence (paralleling azul’s constant interest in jamil). yet by winter break, scarabia is doing so badly in those same exams that they didn’t even place in the rankings…? without meaning to, kalim clearly harmed scarabia. instead of getting chance to study magic and show off, jamil is now essentially an unpaid, full-time party planner by the time his second year starts.

a few months later, winter break finally arrives, and jamil executes his plan to dethrone kalim. i may have just spent the last two pages defending jamil’s grudge, but his actions themselves are still indefensible. there’s evidence to suggest kalim knew what was occurring on some level - refusing to answer jade’s question about who was hypnotising him proved that 1) he probably had some idea deep down that jamil was betraying him 2) he doesn’t want jamil to get in trouble for it. nonetheless, this does not make what jamil did okay in the slightest, even if kalim allowed it to happen. jamil is, undoubtedly, the bad guy in this situation, no matter how sympathetic his childhood makes you feel. i could go into detail about why kalim acted the way he did, but again, this is jamil-focused.

i’ll skip talking about his overblot, because i covered his hatred for kalim in a lot of depth already and i want to talk about the general aspects of his personality like his desire for praise later on. so moving onto the end of chapter 4, we see jamil’s true self: a snarky, heavily opinionated boy who honestly just wants to be free to be himself.

but just like his freedom, that side of jamil once again only lasts for a brief moment. jamil almost loses everything after his overblot. practically every scarabia student hates him and wants him thrown out of the dorm - even kalim, his sole defender, can’t call him a good person. he’s a traitor. he says he trusts the scarabia students to work out that it’s better for them if he stays, but that day won’t come any time soon, and until then he’s keeping his distance from them all, because their hatred is that strong. if azul truly had been streaming to more people than just jade, his life would have been ruined beyond repair. so what does jamil do? he goes back to serving kalim. as a scarabia student, his foresight is good enough that he knows the option he hates the most is the only one that’ll be good for him in the end. for jamil, being himself is nothing short of a death sentence.

now i’ve talked for far too long about the timeline of his character arc, i can finally get to the good stuff: jamil’s personality, and how it’s changed throughout the stories we’ve seen so far.

the first thing that springs to mind when you think of jamil, other than “snake”, is probably “tired”. or “he’s going to snap”. something along those lines. which... yes, we know he is. he did snap. after chapter 4, this doesn’t seem to have changed too much, but i do get the impression that he’s somewhat less stressed out by kalim. his resentment has dissipated, for the most part (he does still openly insult him, though), so while he does grumble at kalim there’s no suppressed fury behind it. what replaced that fury?

guilt.

in 5-10, jamil tells azul that he intends to continue to obediently follow kalim around in order to restore his reputation, both inside and outside of scarabia. this does of course make him sound pretty selfish (as per usual), and in classic jamil fashion he doesn’t let his true emotions show, so it’s easy to take this at face value and assume he just doesn’t really care. i think in this case, we need to look more at his actions that we see throughout chapter 5. namely, the way it’s being emphasised how he’s silently watching kalim from afar - something he’s always done, yes, but yana seems to be really making a point of it in chapter 5. it’s not just kalim he’s distancing himself from, either. he’s staying away from the rest of the scarabia students too, as mentioned earlier. he never had any friends at all to rely on, even before his overblot. so by doing this, he’s effectively completely isolating himself. he clearly has a lot of thoughts about everything that he’s not sharing with anyone - just listen to the way he sighs at the end of the flashback in 5-10, how annoyed and frustrated he seems. if jamil was telling the truth about just wanting to restore his reputation, he’d probably appreciate kalim’s efforts, even if he dislikes kalim himself. he shouldn’t be upset by kalim persuading the scarabia students to give him another chance. not if he truly just wants to get back to normal. i think on some level, jamil feels incredibly guilty over his actions. he might not have even admitted to himself yet that he feels this way, and by saying things like “i just want to restore my reputation” he’s just trying to convince himself. after all, that’s something he has a history of doing.

ever since jamil’s first introduction, we’ve known jamil lives his life by the philosophy of “not standing out is the best way to succeed”. he hates standing out or receiving any kind of positive attention at all, because he thinks that it’ll only attract trouble. or so we thought, because as we learned from his overblot, jamil desperately wants to stand out. he’s powerful and intelligent, and he wants people to acknowledge that. he wants the praise and recognition he knows he deserves. this means that whenever he said he didn’t want to stand out, he was lying through his teeth - he probably constantly tried and failed to convince himself of this throughout his childhood. during his lab SR story, he even repeats it to himself in his thoughts, like a mantra - “I want to avoid standing out. I can’t be satisfied with this. I cannot be too good, nor fall behind, and neither should I get satisfactory grades or fail. This is the best shortcut to success.”. much like his feelings of guilt, jamil refused to acknowledge how much he truly wanted to show off, even in his own thoughts. he is awful at being honest to himself.

post-ch5, we find out that despite everything, jamil does still hold this philosophy, to some extent. he of course shows off his singing and dancing skills enough to be chosen as a main vocalist, and he says he wants to make a name for himself and show various people just how talented he truly is: kalim, his family, the asims and MC, to name a few. yet in the chapter before that, when kalim compliments his singing and dancing, he’s like “i don’t really want to stand out, but…”. which is honestly a little confusing at first because he does want to. i’d probably interpret it as something along the lines of he wants to show off to the people he cares about, but he still wants to keep his head down in general. so i think that to some extent, maybe he actually has internalised that philosophy now. the one time he truly expressed his desire to stand out, it ended in catastrophe for him. he has this tiny seed of doubt within him now, telling him his parents were right all along. but... he’s working past it, and applying himself as and when he’s comfortable doing so.

going back to him being bad at being honest, jamil’s a pretty big tsundere. there’s one person he does regularly receive praise from: kalim. yet despite desperately wanting to be praised, he often gets annoyed at kalim and tells him something like “this isn’t about me right now” or “what does that have to do with anything?”. plus when the praise is coming from kalim, it’s often in the context of kalim praising him to other people - as a servant, he can’t be seen accepting all these compliments, right? he can never be better than kalim. so he has to reject kalim’s praise. when it’s just the two of them alone, though, is when jamil gets embarrassed to the point he has to hide his blush under his hood. given his childhood, chances are that he doesn’t really know how to process being praised. he knows he wants people’s approval, but when he actually gets it, he just short-circuits. it was the same at his birthday celebration; although he wants to be the centre of attention, when it actually happens, he gets all embarrassed and tsun. i was trying not to let my own personal feelings spill in this but oh my god he’s so cute i can’t

next... this isn’t really linked to any previous topic, but i want to talk about jamil’s cooking! jamil cooks all of kalim’s meals, and regularly cooks entire feasts for kalim’s parties, too (as well as being in charge of getting any animals kalim wants to show off, decorating the dorm, making sure everything runs smoothly… you get the idea). his cooking is very good, and he has a lot of technical knowledge about cooking too - azul, whose parents run a restaurant, didn’t know about emulsification, but jamil was able to explain it to him. despite being so good, though, according to his dorm SSR homescreen lines he doesn’t actually like cooking very much. he says the fact that he cooks so much is “just how things turned out”. of course, he could just be being a tsun, but i do feel like he’s being honest with this - what reason does he have to seriously enjoy something he was forced into doing his entire life? However there is evidence that he might enjoy it after all; he’s particularly good at alchemy because of his cooking knowledge, and according to magical archives he’s completely neutral in motivation for both flying and history lessons, but has slightly higher motivation levels for alchemy, indicating that he can’t stop himself from putting a little bit extra effort into that class. i think it can be interpreted either way with the canon info we have currently, but regardless i would not say he’s the cooking fanatic people often depict him as.

also, when jamil cooks, although his cooking is good, visually it’s usually very boring, to the point he and his sister would bicker over it. he has the technical skills to cook good food, but no idea how to present it. similarly, in his fairy gala SR he was told that although he perfectly memorised the dance, it was boring to watch - it looked like he was just executing the routine without any passion behind it. jamil is so emotionally repressed that he has no idea how to express his individuality. even in his bedroom, the only truly personal items he owns are a first aid kit (related to his servant position, not him as a human being) and a stereo + headphones set for dancing. he doesn’t have any other hobbies or interests - he doesn’t even know what people his age do for fun, because he’s never been allowed to think about such things.

dancing is all jamil has that’s not directly related to serving kalim, really - but even that ties into his servant status. although he genuinely enjoys it nowadays and dances by himself for fun, he only picked it up as a hobby because kalim wanted to go to dance practice, and of course jamil had to accompany him. when his flashback after his overblot talks about him deliberately losing to kalim, the story focuses specifically on a dancing competition. which is why it’s honestly so important to jamil’s character that chapter 5 focuses on a singing and dancing competition. jamil finally has the chance not just to show off his skills in general, but his skills at the one thing he’s been allowed to love throughout his life. the one thing where losing to kalim at it hurt so much that it was such a prominent memory for him. when jamil was chosen as a main vocalist, he instinctively tries to say kalim would be better suited for the position, but stops himself and accepts it. it clearly means so much to him that he was chosen for this.

okay i started to scare people with how long this was getting when it was only 50% finished, i think if i write anymore people will actually be concerned for my health so i’ll leave it here. if you read all of this, thank you so much for putting up with my anime boy brainrot for over six full pages! i really.. really like jamil. again, i most certainly do not think his actions should be defended, but god if they’re not fascinating to read about. and i hope i covered the other sides to him well enough, the things that you’d never ordinarily pick up on because so few people talk about him outside of him and kalim as a pair (both platonic scarabia + romantic jamikali, i mean). he has so much depth to him that people don’t see and god i could easily have gone on for another few pages if i wasn’t forcing myself to stop. but please please talk to me if you want to hear more...

yana has treated him so well, jamil stans get too much food if anything but i’m absolutely thriving off it as you can see! thank you for allowing him to exist, yana-sensei!

having said that, i couldn’t stop myself from adding some extra facts about him below. please enjoy.

some fun jamil facts for your soul:

his sister used to bake him cookies on his birthday - specifically, these!

when jamil and kalim went to eat at the cafeteria with ruggie and leona, leona took one look at jamil and went “you look like you’d kill kalim in his sleep”

sebek and jamil find each other’s positions enviable. sebek wishes he could have been by malleus’ side from birth as jamil was with kalim, and jamil just… wishes he served someone he respected as deeply as sebek respects malleus (but he does think sebek is too enthusiastic)

jamil hates surprises with a burning passion, and despite being with kalim for 17 years is still not used to them. for his previous birthday, kalim held a huge surprise party, and i think he still hasn’t recovered from the shock

i think a lot of people already know that in his birthday SSR story he said he wanted a parrot after graduation so he could teach it to call him master, but it goes a bit further than that? it was actually first mentioned during his lesson chats, when kalim gets a parrot. jamil has to research how to care for it, and ended up wanting one of his own afterwards (but got too tsundere to admit it at the time).

also, he heard that the sorcerer of the sands’ parrot (iago) could speak as fluently as a human, and he got excited and watched a bunch of parrot videos on magicam, but was of course disappointed to find out that this was not the case.

he frequently uses flattery to try and get his way, like when he attempts to flatter vil during his SSR story - unfortunately he misjudged vil, as vil’s actually the type of person who hates meaningless flattery. because he does this so frequently, when he genuinely does give compliments people don’t always believe him.

according to the halloween event, jamil is surprisingly environmentally conscious, and insists on holding a sustainable halloween theme. after organising so many parties and seeing the waste they probably produce, i think there’s no wonder he’s so concerned about it.

#twisted wonderland #jamil viper #twst jamil #scarabia #twst #kalim al-asim #twst kalim #i'm a busy uni student so don't expect the kalim essay to be finished anytime soon #i procrastinated way too much writing the jamil one #and i would not do the same for kalim ajdfjshsjhs #also i know people have said they'd like to see my take on other charas but please consider:#the only reason i have this deep an insight into jamil's character is bc i never think about the others #there's only jamil in my head #so i don't think i'm the best person to go to for interesting analysis about anyone else #but again who knows #tw: abuse

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entoman-created-by-the-tallgreys · 3 years ago

Text

I made a post a long time ago they got a lot of negative attention called sexual combat.

It was supposed to mean that you know how dogs and puppies and other animals will play fight and get a little more aggressive.

They're training each other and they're just trying to see what each other are like well fairies are the same Fucking Way

Except what we have to we try to kill our women

Constantly it's brutally as possible

The method is that to sort out the strong from the weak

A real fairy female will be so f****** strong that there's no way you can kill her plus her mind is is a 10,000 times more rapid than a male her brain and her body moves so fast you can catch bullets !

The female knows she has to prove her supremacy to the male if you want to get sex he doesn't have to show supremacy she has to absolutely f****** prove she's Superior

Everything about her everything about her soul has to be absolutely Ultra Superior ultra fine Ultra strong Ultra fast

Then I'm so strong you put shotguns up to the skull and pull the trigger but they got to be pretty f****** strong

Listen my point is that the reason why we're always trying to kill our goddamn women is because we need to test out who's who our women are smart they know how to read us they know what's going to happen next they're going to have sex with us they know they can't get sex or they don't show their supremacy they don't show their power they don't show them eat the dead they can't believe they they don't show their carnivore that the show that there are proper f****** fairy female AKA and insectoid if they do not do that they do not get dick they do not get laid they do not get anything they get to die virgins

Instead of getting some meat in their stomach they end up as meeting someone else's stomach and not a male cuz we're herbivores

They get the moisture the vagina of another fairy female

And that's something they really don't want that is Ultimate female domination from one female Spirit on to the next

When inside to a female eats another insectoid female it is the highest form of domination it is the ultimate version of once in the energy completely destroying and exorbing other female energy to the points with a very solid of the female will be exhort in the other female

I mean after death after death there's a chance at the fairy female can come out and they can separate but at the insectoid female is strong enough then the other soul is almost probably permanently stuck in her and may need to be forcibly removed otherwise it's going to act as a nutrient source until it could be possible that the insect to a female will can completely dissolve and digest the other soul.

But never 100%.

Still my point here is this.

Or woman are women be damn brutal !

. . .

And this is why we have so many tests so many filters so many rigorous things a human female won't even take up someone a human female won't even take rejection you rejecting a female she's like bye I'll go f*** someone else

You would like the very female there is no rejection she will have you or she'll kill every God damn woman in the area just if she can't eat their flesh destroy rip it up and spread their blood around and prove that she is the most high there is no there is no limit

This is a fairy insectoid female brain not a human

Do not expect an alien to be human do not expect an alien to have human civil way's do not expect an alien to have human moral do not expect an alien to be human !

And yes all women eventually end up eating their males we did our job we served our hive we collect as much we could we fed the hive we gave as much knowledge as possible we lived our life we made it we made babies and then ultimately we get our holy death.

What is the holy sexual sacred death

I swear I give the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth.

#Fae

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parksvn · 5 years ago

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my soul chose yours (and a soul just doesn't forget that)

guard!Jinyoung x assassin!reader x king!Jaebum

wc: 3.6k+

you’re about to get the upper hand on a mission when things go horribly wrong. Jinyoung is there to pick up the pieces, but Jaebum always gets to be the hero that swoops in to save the day.

a/n: this could become a series, but idk. if it does become a series, the next parts may end up being shorter depending on how the storyline progresses.

The ground is cold and hard, pebbles press against your cheek and your skin burns as blood hisses against the concrete beneath your body.

You’d laugh but your core felt like a searing knife had been left in it, pulsating forceful energy through your blood, curdling every area into sap. The pain was excruciating and sent angry sparks down your spine.

Since your face was contorted in a wicked display of agony, you settled on a smirk and tried to roll away from the boot you knew was coming for your back.

You weren’t fast enough, of course, but it was worth a shot.

Your body swung to the other side and a groan escaped your lips as you huddled into a fetal position, attempting to protect your broken body from the next attack. It wouldn’t matter, you knew that much, but trying was better than just accepting death.

“I’ve asked you once and I’ll ask you again,” your assailant spat, words colliding harshly with your sore ears. “Where is his vault? Who’s assassins were sent after me?”

You scoffed. As if you would ever indulge him in such royal secrets. You were directly connected to the king, his weapon and blade, his bullet whenever he decided to pull the trigger, but to this man, you were just an advisor. Just as to everyone else concerned with your “dealings with the court.”

You knew he was following you for a while before he made his move, crashing his car into yours and dragging you into a conveniently waiting van before dumping you on the side of the road. Of course, he wanted to know all of the king’s secrets; this man was the king’s prime target. He’s stolen more than his fair share of gold and jewels from everyday citizens.

His death was already coming. As of right now, he’s just running from destiny.

And who’s to say that destiny wasn’t already staring him in the face, in the form of your oh so frail and weak body laying so helplessly on the ground.

Please.

“Oh, Marcus,” You grinned, teeth gleaming like fangs against the moonlight, face bloody and dirty like a warrior emerging victorious from battle. “You already know.”

His ferocity dialed down a moment as he registered the calm now taking over your features, how the pain originally displayed suddenly vanished into vapor, how your performance changed like shadows of the moon.

Then he jumped feet away from you, scrambling to rectify his mistake.

You’d be gracious, as gracious as you could muster at the moment with a split lip, bruised jaw, three broken ribs, a slash across the back, and a knife in the thigh. It’d take a saint to forgive all of that and you weren’t necessarily the saint type, but exceptions can be made.

If the king still wanted him alive then you would leave him still breathing at least. No promises on his continued condition of life.

You slipped a dagger from your shoe, your torso sore in the process. As the flat of the blade pressed against your palm, hidden from his frightened eyes, you laid on the ground and waited, waited for him to start the babble in which he would try to bargain for his life.

It started with a few pleases, a few apologies, him saying how much his life was worth in gold or jewelry or cars or houses, how he’ll become a changed man, on how he would return everything and never steal again.

At this point, you sighed, not necessarily from his boring speech—you’d tuned that out minutes ago—but from the exertion you knew was coming. Getting off the ground was going to be…painful. Blood still seeped out of that knife wound in your thigh and if you took it out the bleeding would become a waterfall.

And besides the very obvious piece of metal shooting out of your black pants, your face began to throb and taking breaths began to hurt more than it did a few minutes ago. The adrenaline was beginning to fade along with the endorphins that took the edge off the pain.

Getting to Marcus, hurting him, even fighting him, was going to cause a lot of discomfort. It was going to suck and that’s why, as much as you had no problem maiming him, you were reluctant to get off the ground.

You put your fist, knuckle down, onto the ground, keeping the hand with the blade positioned behind you. On your good knee, you braced your weight, struggling to stand while keeping your injured leg as straight as possible to avoid more tears.

Wetness bloomed near your eyes but you fought it, holding onto the spikes of stabbing suffering shooting through your body. It was a rock to hold on to and a great motivator as you made it to your feet, making sure your mouth stayed clamped shut.

No whimpers, no pain, no fear.

Marcus backed up, taking more steps until he was fully pressed against his car. The van that had originally dumped you there was long gone.

It was just you and him now.

You let the dagger fly, hitting him in the exact same spot that your own injury occurred. He cried out as he hit the ground, his hands shaking around where the dagger stuck out from his leg. “If you think that’s bad,” you pulled another knife from the back of your pants, “you should see what a broken rib feels like.”

He whimpered against the car, “please, please.” In all honesty, the second blade was just for show. You weren’t going to do anything with it and you had already lost interest in beating him senseless as you were getting off the ground. Anything you really wanted to do required too much movement for the injuries you sustained. Keeping your voice steady through the pain was already a challenge.

You gritted your teeth as you hobbled closer, your stomach pulsating pain and your leg felt like fire and stone, hot and heavy.

You stopped a few steps in front of him and looked down. “You will be found. No one will come to save you because everyone who could is already gone. Run all you want, hide all you want, but the crown already knows every move you will ever make, and, just when you think you’ve found freedom, you will be thrown in a cage.”

He cowered away from you, tilting his head downward, tears slipping down his cheeks. Marcus was weak. You always knew that even when you tailed him.

You threw the dagger into his car door, so hard it stuck into the metal, so near his head that it almost took off some of his hair. He cried out.

You didn’t wait to see what he might say. You simply turned around and hobbled away as best you could, walking down the highway until you could find a car that could take you far away from here and as close to the palace as you could get.

Your breaths were beginning to become harsh, angry spits of air and pain that could be heard within a few feet. They weren’t quiet; people would begin to understand how hard you were fighting for your life.

It became pretty obvious that if you didn’t find a doctor or somebody soon, you would collapse into nothing, a heap on the ground withering in pain and waiting for the crows to circle in.

Your teeth ground together as your determination kicked in.

You wouldn’t die out here.

In hindsight, you could have taken the man’s car, but you wanted him to be terrified of freedom, to feel like as much as he felt in control, he was just as much out of it.

You wanted the feeling to linger. Pain is only a motivator till it fades away, but fear follows everyone everywhere. There’s no safety in fear.

You started to move, willing your leg forward, just a little bit further and further and further until you would find someone who’d be willing to help you. Then it would all be over. Then you could rest.

Then you could finally feel—

You only heard an echo of a shot before you felt it rip through your stomach.

You paused.

Then, you collapsed onto the ground.

Your stomach started burning, a little fire crawling through your abdomen, beginning to radiate outwards. You didn’t have to put your hands near your stomach to know that there would be blood, that it would slowly seep through your clothing and onto the ground before you died.

Your cheek felt cold again, just as it did when you were beaten to the ground earlier.

How fitting.

How simply fitting that this would be how it all ended, exactly like it began.

You weren’t sorry, remorseful, or bitter. You did things your way, you’d lived the life that you wanted to live. You wouldn’t change a thing.

You lay there, gasping a little when the blood seeped through your lungs and into your windpipe, as you tasted iron on your tongue while you bit your cheek to stop from screaming. Someone would find the shooter eventually, but you wouldn’t be there to see it.

Shame.

You laughed as your vision began to blur and as the world slowly slipped away.

…

Jinyoung found you after about two minutes.

To say that he froze would be an understatement. He was in complete shock. It took him about another thirty seconds to get out of the car and run to you, the medical response team was already underway, flipping you over, trying to get a look at the injuries and damage.

He was still stuck.

You didn’t look right. Everything about this was wrong. He’d just seen you, a couple of hours ago, chatting up the ambassador of France, looking glowing, radiant even.

In fact, Jinyoung was having trouble keeping his eyes off of you all night. Then again, that wasn’t out of the ordinary.

But to see you broken, unresponsive, bloody beyond all measure, that terrified him. His heart started beating again once he began to move and he only remembered to breathe after his throat began to burn.

But the burning intensified as he fought to keep everything at bay.

You knew this was going to happen, you’d phoned him telling him to start tracking your device, a small ring on your pinky finger, but he hadn’t realized that you were in this much trouble.

You’d never been this hurt, not in a million years. And as Jinyoung raced over to you, his anger began to rise along with an instinctive urge to never let you out of his sight again.

He dropped to his knees near your head, gently reaching out to cradle your neck in his hands, your hair fanning out over his thighs as he propped you up against him. He saw the swelling, the cuts, the scrapes on your cheek and then spared a glance to your body and saw silver emerging out of your clothes.

His anger rose, but also fear. He knew these injuries were serious and when he saw the vermillion color of blood staining your white shirt and dark-colored blazer, he wanted to cradle you closer, press his nose against your skin and transfer his energy to you.

He would accept losing you. Never.

“How bad?” He gritted through his teeth, trying to keep everything steady, everything locked in place.

The nurse looked down, still trying to find the bullet with gloves and her tool. “Very bad.” She kept her tone neutral but he could see how hard she was fighting against her emotions too. You were always good to everyone you met and it made sense to see her upset. It made Jinyoung’s emotions magnify.

He swallowed the ball in his throat down, brushing the hair out of your face, taking a moment to be selfish with you. It was the only moment he allowed himself, before focusing back on the team.

He took a sharp breath. They needed to move you, get you somewhere safe where real medical treatment could happen.

“I know what you want to ask, and the answer is shortly. We need to stop the bleeding and start a transfusion.” The nurse breathed out, the bullet caught between the metal of her tools. She turned and dropped it into a tray, exchanging the forceps for gauze. “Here.”

Jinyoung took the end of the gauze as she pulled and began to wrap it around your torso. “Mr. Park, would you lift, please?” She turned to her colleagues. “Moving.”

He grasped your shoulders, moving his palms to your back as pulled you upward, being as gentle as possible. Your face stopped near his chest, your nose pressed against his neck.

He tried his best to ignore his desire to pull you even closer.

The nurse began to wrap the gauze all around, pulling it taunt. You stirred, a moan escaping your mouth as your features contorted in discomfort. Jinyoung held you slightly tighter as he put a hand to your cheek. “(name)?”

You didn’t respond.

“(name)? We’re getting you somewhere safe. Just hold on, okay?” He only noticed how soft and pleading his voice was when the nurse turned to look at him with something like sympathy and understanding in her eyes.

She looked away and nodded. “We’re ready to move, Mr. Park.”

He nodded numbly as his hands held onto your shoulders. “Ready.”

The nurse began the count down and they picked you up, carrying you back to the car.

He dimly remembers volunteering to sit with you in the back, too distracted with his fear of you slipping away before he gets to tell you everything. Your face is tilted up the sky and Jinyoung has his arm wrapped around your body, a hand stroking your hair as your head rests across his lap.

“Hold on,” He whispers. “Hold on.”

…

Jaebum shoved every bit of paper he could find off of his desk.

He was distraught. Fire coursed through his veins at the thought of someone hurting you, someone getting that close to killing you, and he couldn’t be there.

He couldn’t get to you, couldn’t protect you, couldn’t get anywhere close to saving you because of his damn meeting. And now you were barely holding onto life, being driven to the palace to be placed under intensive care.

He felt like a failure. He’d failed you.

All because of his duty to the throne.

He crumpled to the floor, holding his head in his hands.

Indeed, heavy is the head that wears the crown.

…

“My king.” The servant bowed to Jaebum as he strode through the doors of the medical center, searching for you, needed to see you still breathing to calm himself down again. He’d tried to keep his pace steady but he didn’t care. It was you. It was you. “How may I be of service?”

“Where is Ambassador (last name)?” His eyes burned bright and he did his best to keep his emotions in check, a bit of irritation jumping out of his control.

The servant looked it up. “Room A5, I’ll escort you.”

Jaebum could only nod. He knew the escort wouldn’t be fast enough, but he agreed. It was better to appear as though everything was fine rather than alter the whole palace that something was amiss.

He tried to keep his breathing under control, his steps and gait contained to his normal stride. It was difficult and he fought every urge to sprint. Crescent-shaped imprints would linger on his palms.

“Here we are, your majesty.” He bowed before motioning him inside.

It was chaos, absolute chaos. A flurry of bodies moved around and people were barking orders at each other. It took Jaebum several minutes before he found you and his knees nearly gave out at the sight of you.

You were attached to an oxygen tank, an IV, and a machine for blood transfer. Your face was maimed with cuts, swelling, injuries, and your clothes, your clothes. All of the blood.

Jaebum almost ran over to you. Almost.

The only reason he didn’t was that there were too many witnesses, too many opportunities for gossip and rumors. He didn’t want that. Not for you, not right now.

He spotted his captain in the corner, eyes dead-looking, completely glazed over. Jaebum made his way over to his corner.

“Where?” He growled and Jinyoung took a moment to look up at his king before answering.

“Somewhere ten minutes from the mountains, along a twisted highway.” His voice sounded dead and his eyes were red. Jaebum studied him for a moment longer before watching you and your heartbeat. The rise and fall of your chest calming him down moment by moment.

“Thank you.” Jaebum worked out without a hint of anger or sadness, just relief.

Jinyoung’s eyes slid to his, alive with emotion for the first time since he walked into the room. His eyebrows scrunched with confusion.

“For being there when I couldn’t.” Jinyoung’s gaze softened for a second before locking up, walls coming down.

He could only nod before dissociating again.

Jaebum sat there, standing by his friend, watching you fight for your life.

A mantra, simple but heavy weighed on his mind, itching to shoot out to you.

Stay. Stay. Stay.

…

Your whole body hurt. The only that was safe to move without the desire to scream in pain was your neck as you assessed the state of your body.

It was quiet and the lights were dimmed. You took a breath, wincing. Those bruised ribs and bullet wound would make the next few weeks difficult, but you’d live to fight another day.

You paused for a moment. How’d they find me? You thought back to the moment you’d fallen, trying to stretch into the future, waiting to find a few moments after. But there was nothing but black.

Sitting up was not an option in your condition, so you angled your neck to the side, opting to see something new, but someone was there.

You looked down, his face was pressed against your bed, his arms folded underneath his cheek.

You coughed lightly, hoping to gently stir them out of their sleep. When their eyes popped to yours, you knew immediately who it was.

You froze for a moment. “Your majesty.” You breathed.

“(name).” His eyes were just as wide as yours as he came out of his own slumber. “You’re awake. You’re okay.”

“Yeah.” You looked away from his direct stare, a jolt of heat jumping down your spine. “It takes a bit more than that to kill me.” You said it like you hadn’t considered your own death however long it was ago.

He looked sad. You were confused. Why was he even here in the first place. Did he have other duties to attend to than be here with you?

“I’m sorry.” He reached for your hand and held it within his own. Your breathing slowed down. “I failed you.”

“What do you mean?” You looked to find him hanging his head in sorrow, like a wounded puppy.

“I should have never have sent you there.” His eyes were on fire, rooting you into place, stopping your breathing so as not to stir the embers even more. “I never should have let you go by yourself.”

“We didn’t know. It’s okay.” You willed the fire to go away, hoping that your soothing tone would calm him down. “If I’d have known there were other operatives, I would have suggested another method. We made a mistake. It’s alright.”

He was quiet for several seconds. “You almost died. I almost lost you.” He brought your hand to his forehead. “I almost lost everything.”

Your free hand reached out to stroke his hair, your abdomen screaming at you. “I’m still here.”

Your heard his sniffles and your heart grew, a soft warmth moved through your chest. “Come here.” He looked to you with his bloodshot eyes and began moving, slipping off his boots, and slowly arranging himself on the bed next to you, placing his head atop yours, pulling you into him.

“Never again.” His voice was low and steady like he was speaking a vow that could never be broken.

You smirk, resting his chest against his beating heart, calming yourself down as you drifted off to sleep.

…

Jinyoung felt like he was stabbed through his chest.

He saw you two together. The king and his dagger. How perfect you fit together, how protectively he held you.

Maybe you liked the power, maybe there was a bond you two shared, but Jinyoung couldn’t help but believe that should have been him. It should have been you and him.

You both knew what it was like to be fashioned by steel, a weapon at someone else’s disposal. You’d confided in each other, trusted each other.

But you chose him and Jaebum knew it too. That’s why he hovered, always watching, always making sure you never got too close to him.

Always in the way.

His heart shattered, even more, when he saw the look of bliss as your face was buried into Jaebum’s chest, right near his neck, right where you were propped against him not six hours ago.

If only he’d waited in your room longer, if only he hadn’t traded with the king. Maybe, just maybe….

Jinyoung turned around and stalked away, too tired to pour over what-ifs, too tired to really care. If you wanted to fall for the king, who was he to stop you?

He just wouldn’t watch you fall in love with someone that wasn’t him.

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socially-awkward-chocobo · 4 years ago

Text

Ok, so, the Corrupt Hylia au

Okay, so, out of the four art posts I've made, two of them have been tagged with "Corrupt Hylia au." An au I haven't really talked about that much. I should probably fix that. (Definitely. I mean definitely) Prepare for an info-dump

The Corrupt Hylia au was created when I was reading a fanfic at the same time I saw a post about how Hylia's existence made everything black and white. Some details of it were on my mind and I thought, 'hmmm, the story is too black and white,' and thus an au where Hylia is a manipulative b-tch controlling everything for her perfect hero villain story was born. Fabricating a curse, creating villains, capturing a certain someone to be the hero's "test," all with the Sheikah (but not the Yiga. They defected for a reason and Hylia is half of it.) I'll explain the 5,000 yrs ago plot, since I have that figured out but not the actual plot. It’s gonna be long and under the cut for those interested.

During one of the loops, one where she's there physically to make sure everything stays on track, a Shadow escapes and finds the hero. Lies are revealed, and all goes well until a Sheikah goes there "searching" for the hero and they have to interact with Hylia. Anyways, anyone can tell there's something wrong with Hylia, including the princess. The (corrupt) goddess just has that offsetting aura around her. Link meets here and they formulate a plan when they know they aren't being listened to. Anyways, it takes two years but they get a lot of people on their side. (Ganon, Vaati, Ghirahim, the Twili, Rito, Zora, Goron, and Gerudo) Vaati and Zelda (who have become research buddies) devise a spell to remember past lives - and that's how they learned the curse was fake, because Hylia f-cked around with the first hero's memories a lot, and the spell undid it while keeping those fabricated memories. You may have noticed, but things are going too well.

Anyways, at a parade or festival for who knows what (certainly not me) the Sheikah - who were sharing "experimental" (read: tech they've been hogging) so even people who aren't there can watch it happening. This was all part of a plan made by the Sheikah because (somehow) replaced Ghirahim's earing with one that would mind control him. (think what happened to Ingo in OoT manga.) The plan was to control him and make him wreak havoc, make people not trust him, and by extension, Ganon. That doesn't work, because Link (and Shadow) manage to break the jewel. Hylia tries to do some sort of "what an evil barbaric individual" speech, but Link cuts her off and calls her out on her bullsh-t. Not just about the parade, but about everything - the fake curse, messing around with the first hero’s memories, creating villains for the hero and princess to defeat, having the Sheikah do dirty work in the shadows, manipulating a darkling for the sake of “testing” the hero, controlling the king’s free will - EVERYTHING. And remember those speakers and cameras the Sheikah were sharing? They broadcasted all of it to Hyrule. And because Link had always been a good person, helping people out of the kindness of his heart, a lot of people believed he was telling the truth. This is the start of the war.

The ruined parade is the battlefield, they win and push back Hylia this time because she was caught off guard. But now she knows what's happening, and she is p-ssed. After the start of the rebellion, it is the first time she infuses her magic with malice. A few more battles later, a major one at Korok Forest that gets the forest children involved, and the crew makes the decision to split the Triforce into eight pieces. Ganon, Zant, and Ghirahim each have 1/3 power, Zelda, Midna, and Vaati all have 1/3 wisdom, and Link and Shadow each have 1/2 courage. If Hylia wants the entire Triforce, they're gonna make her chances of getting it as slim as possible.

One year into the war, and the scales haven't really tipped to either side. But Shadow (who was incapacitated and couldn't come out), Ganon, and Link were up against Hylia. Hylia uses an illusion on Link to make herself look like either a Marin or a past Zelda, and it makes Link freeze up and give Hylia a chance to attack and try to kill Link. Except that Ganon took the hit instead. Link snaps out of it, stuns Hylia, and tries retreating with Ganon. He doesn't get to Ghirahim in time, and so by the time Zelda can heal him, it's too late. With the demoralizing death of Ganon, things start to spiral downhill. Over the next three years they lost Vaati, Zant, and almost Midna. The only small victory that happened was Shadow breaking the mirror the Sheikah had forced bonded them to, and would mean that the Sheikah wouldn't be able to just count on Shadow stumbling out of there when he died anymore. (Shadow thought this meant his next death would be his last.)

Four more years after that, there are more fights and they get pushed back more and more. Somehow (haven't figured out how yet) they get in contact with the main three goddesses (Din, Nayru, Farore) and Hyrule will be sealed underground by them, Hylia with it. They know this won't be permanent, and hope it buys them enough time for the next reincarnation cycle to happen. As they leave, they're being followed by Hylia and the Sheikah. Link and Shadow make a decision to stay behind and make sure Hylia stays underground until the sealing. They know they're going to die doing this, but the worse they hurt Hylia, the longer it will take for her to break the seal.

The other leaders try to argue to let somebody else do it (mainly Zelda and Midna), but Link argues back that Hyrule needs their leaders, and Ghirahim made a promise to Ganon, one he can't keep if he's trapped or dead. So Zelda caves and creates a bow of light with enough charge for five arrows. The other leaders (and Ghira) all add some of their own magic to it, and Link and Shadow head off. The next part is going to be ripped directly from my notes because I'm lazy I don't know how else to phrase it.

Once they get to where the Sheikah are, Shadow immediately starts using the shadows to teleport and starts killing large amounts of them. Link kills whoever is foolish enough to attack him head-on swiftly with the Master Sword. They carve a path to Hylia.

The fight with Hylia is long and brutal. It is clear now that Hylia is using malice and is clearly affected by it. Malice-like pink is spreading on her along with one of her eyes becoming a malice eye. And it has not done anything for her sanity.

Hylia sends a lethal blast of light magic into Shadow and Link is covered in Malice injuries

Link gets separated from the Master Sword. Hylia is about to land the finishing blow on him when Shadow - who is currently dying btw - picks up the Master Sword (which is actively burning his hands and speeding up his death) and stabs her from behind. Shadow says something and Link uses the Light Bow. One shot in the head, one shot in the throat, one shot in the heart, one shot in the stomach, and one shot right on the master sword - which causes a beam affect that they learned about in one of the war’s earlier battles. Hylia isn’t dead, but she won’t be recovering for a while.

Link and Shadow share some final words before dying.

I still need to figure out the actual plot and stuff, but uh, if you read to the end, I hope you enjoyed! ^_^

(Ps: if there’s anything triggering or stuff, ask for me to tag and I will)

#Corrupt Hylia au #the legend of zelda #loz #zelda au #death tw #ch hylia #ch link #ch shadow #ch zelda #ch vaati #ch ganon #ch ghirahim #ch midna #ch zant #that should be everyone explicitly mentioned #dang it I meant biased in Hylia's favor not too black and white

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standbi-ghost · 5 years ago

Text

Guess I’ll Just kms

Words: 1812

TRIGGER WARNINGS: Suicide (technically), suicidal thoughts, panic attack

Go say hi on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27387829

In order to go ghost, Danny has to kill himself. It isn’t that bad really, but when his mom finds a journal where he keeps track of the best ways to kill himself (which sounds sketch in and of itself) and thinks he’s suicidal, he has an important decision to make.

It was a grounding feeling; the cold touch of a knife pressed to his throat. What once would’ve frightened him to no end, was now becoming something of a constant in his otherwise chaotic life. He let the knife find its keep and in seconds, his Jugular vein was sliced.

As he let the all too familiar feeling of his ghostly transformation happen, he couldn’t help but chuckle at the ghastliness of his situation. Was this technically suicide? No, probably not, it’s not like he was actually dying, just, playing dead. Lots of animals do it in self-defense and this wasn’t that far off. Plus, Danny knew he didn’t want to die, or in his case, cease to exist, right?

Shaking the thoughts out of his head, he turned to see Skulker already in a fighting stance. He sighed and shot into the sky ready for the chase to begin.

At the cursed hour of 4 in the morning, Danny found himself sneaking into his own room. He flopped onto his mattress and let out a long, well-deserved mind you, groan.

He felt like he’d been run over by a car which was probably because that’s exactly what happened. Hey, to be fair, he had also been invisible. How was the poor driver supposed to know Danny was stupidly floating in the middle of the road? The driver was fine too, a little shaken up but he managed to phase him out of his car before any damage was done to him.

He lazily snaked his arm into his abandoned backpack and pulled out a dying black notebook barely holding itself together by a thread. There were rips, tears, and folds everywhere and a suspicious amount of green and brown stains were spattered throughout the pages. He liked to joke that it was his own personal Death Note except the only one doing any dying was him. It had started out as a way to record which death methods were quick and easiest, which were dramatic but efficient, which shouldn’t be tried again, but it had developed into a coping mechanism of sorts, some kind of morbid diary filled with a mixture rants and execution plans. He flipped to the next clean page and began to write his death-of-the-day and the events that followed.

A sinking calm settled into his core as he continued to rant about missing yet another test because of Skulker. He was halfway done with the entry when his eyes began to flutter closed, no longer being able to fight his body’s plea for rest.

He didn’t hear the soft creak of his door open, didn’t see the hand reach out and take his notebook, didn’t feel that same hand run itself through his hair, giving way for a pair of lips to kiss his forehead.

When his alarm went off at the usual 6 am it always did, he didn’t notice the suffocating stagnant air in the room, just stretched out his sore limbs, rubbed his eyes awake, and went on with his usual morning routine.

As he made his way downstairs, Danny made sure to annoyingly, as any younger sibling should, yell at his sister.

“Jazz I swear to the Ancients that if you try and leave without me again, I will piss your pants, you know I can’t be late again, Mr. Lancer-”

His voice trailed off when he took in the sight of his parents before him.

His dad was avoiding direct eye contact in the most obvious manner. His mom was wearing a watery smile, most likely trying to mask whatever had both his parents so tense. For a second, he panicked. Had they figured it out? What was it? Was it the mannerism, the eyes, the hair?

“Danny?”

He looked up from his panicked haze and saw concern plastered on both his parents’ faces. It looked wrong.

“Uh- where’s Jazz?” he asked, looking around in a last-ditch effort to crawl out from under their crushing gaze.

“Jazz left for school early today, something about a meeting with one of the counselors” his dad quietly responded, almost like he was tiptoeing around Danny, which set off all kinds of red flags.

For one it was hard to forget his dad could even be that subdued, the man practically radiated excitement. He also seemed, tired. Not the kind of tired you get after working at a lab all day, no, this was a soul-crushing tired, one that reflected inner turmoil. He looked away to catch his mom’s gaze only to look Danny in the eyes again, a forced smile finding its way on his face.

“Danny boy, we just wanted to talk to you about some- about how you’re doing.”

“I- uh, don’t know what you mean dad” he stuttered out.

“You’ve just been really closed off lately and, as your parents, we worry Danny.”

He turned his wide eyes towards his mother. Had he heard her right? They worried? Had he been worrying his parents? Was he a distraction? He was already indirectly messing with their inventions but now he was distracting them too. What kind of son-

“I’m fine. I mean, school’s been, uh- something, but I’ve been dealing- “

“Danny, are you suicidal?”

It came out as a whisper, but it echoed loudly in his head.

All he could do was stare, mouth agape, desperately trying to form words in his favor.

Heavy wasn’t the right word to describe the air in the room. Suffocating came closer. How was he even supposed to respond to that? If he told his parents the truth, they would hate him for keeping it a secret for so long. For lying to them, manipulating them, making a fool out of them. They would do much worse than dissect him, they would no longer see him as their son and that cut deeper than any scalpel could. On the other hand, if he lied and told them he was suicidal, they would ship him off to a loony bin. They would stuff him with pills and strip his mind away from him leaving him an empty husk of a person. And would it even be a lie? How many times had the thought crossed his mind? How many times had he begged for death at the end of an alleyway, at the bottom of a ditch, passed out at the foot of his bed, only to get up, dust off, and continue to live- no- to exist as a drone.

His breath began to pick up- could he even call it a breath? He knew if he didn’t say something, anything, his parents would come up with their own answer. What was the question again? Why couldn’t he think straight? He would lose any and all control he may have had. Was he in control? Why couldn’t he control his own body? His own mind? His thoughts were racing, and he was dragging behind them. Why was everything moving so fast? Why couldn’t he catch a break for once? He felt like a cornered animal, quite literally too. A feral growl crawled out of his throat as he backed himself into a wall, attempting to make himself look less pathetic. Attempting to make himself look like a threat. Maybe then they’ll go away. Maybe then he would stop hurting so much.

Don’t let them know you’re weak.

They’ll hurt you.

They won’t understand.

They’ll never love you.

How could they love you?

You-

“Danny”

And just like that, the fog dispersed and he was left stranded in the empty halls of his mind. He felt the cold wall behind him taunting him with its cold embrace.

“Danny it’s okay, you’re okay, breathe”

That was his mom’s voice. He felt the adrenaline seep out of him, embarrassment taking its place. That was all the confirmation they needed. He was fucked. No matter what they thought of him before, nothing could erase the scene he had just caused. Ancients he was fucked. What even was that? What normal person freaks out over a simple question?

He groaned as he let his face fall into the palm of his hands. He felt a wave of shame wash over him as his mom took him in her arms.

For a moment everything was back to normal. There was still tension in the air, but it all melted in the warm embrace of his mom.

“I found your notebook last night.”

And with that, it all made sense. He flinched out of her embrace and felt shame at seeing the hurt on her face the action caused. He couldn’t help the chuckle that escaped his chapped lips. Of course, the one escape he had was what had exposed him. It was naïve of him to think that no one would find the notebook he practically carried everywhere. Sooner or later this had been bound to happen, he just hoped it would be later. He had been careless and now he was paying for it.

“I guess I should come clean huh?” He would be lying if he said he wasn’t scared, terrified, but he couldn’t shake the possibility that maybe, maybe, his parents would support him, be there for him. The very thought left a warm feeling in him.

“It started a few weeks before Freshman year...”

And so, he let the dam break. 3 years filled with pain and fear poured out in a flurry of words. He found that, once he started, he couldn’t stop.

He couldn’t help but flinch as his dad reached out and took his small hands in his. He looked him dead in the eyes, searching for confirmation, that this was okay, and when Danny nodded, he pulled him into a bone-crushing hug, his mom following closely behind.

“Oh Danny, how could you not tell us?” his dad asked.

“We’re sorry for making you feel anything but loved and accepted. There is nothing you could do or become that could get rid of our love for you.”

So that’s how he found himself skipping school, in a cuddle pile with his parents, binge-watching Star Wars, Marvel movies, and the occasional Space Documentary.

And when Jazz got home after school that evening, she didn’t question the sight of her parents holding on to Danny for dear life in the middle of their living room, caught in a pile of pillows, blankets, and love, acceptance. She just smiled, shook her head, and made her way up the stairs.

She would have a talk with her brother about his mental health another time. Right now, she knew, everything would be okay.

“oh uh, you guys should probably stay far away from the red bulls in my room.”

“Wha- “

“I may or may not have filled them with arsenic...”

“Daniel James Fenton”

“It's death on the go!”

Everything would be okay.

#yall want angst?#angst #Danny Phantom #danny fenton #danny phantom au #alternate universe #fentons #maddie fenton #jack fenton #jazz fenton #fanfiction #suicide?#not really #panic attack #identity reveal #family fluff #angst with a happy ending

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