starlit-havens

[starlit-havens]

i’ll do these platonically with characters of your choice!

POWER OUTAGE IDEAS #2

The entire city is experiencing a power cut so Person A and Person B spend the night laying in the grass together and staring up at the stars (which are much more visible than usual due to the power cut.)

Person A and Person B are eating dinner at a fancy restaurant when the restaurant suddenly loses power.

Person A and Person B decide to tell each other scary stories to pass the time during a power outage. They end up really freaking themselves out but it’s not like they can just turn the lights back on.

The power goes out so Person A and Person B try to make the best of the situation by building a blanket fort, playing card games, etc. They end up having so much fun that they don’t even notice the electricity coming back on until a couple of hours later.

Person A is afraid of storms and Person B is afraid of the dark. One night a massive thunderstorm hits causing their house, along with the entire neighborhood, to lose power and go completely dark.

Person A trying to pour Person B a glass of wine/water/etc in the dark and spilling it everywhere because they can’t see what they’re doing.

Person A and Person B are co-workers. One day halfway through their shift, the whole building loses electricity so their boss gives them both the rest of the day off. Person A and Person B decide to go get lunch together and spend the rest of their day off hanging out.

Person A is really excited to watch a new episode of their favorite tv show. Moments before the episode starts, the power goes out. Person A frantically calls Person B and begs them to let them come over and watch it at their house. Even though Person B absolutely despises the tv show in question, they tell Person A to hurry over. Person A gets there just in time and they both watch the show together.

Person A and Person B take shelter in their basement during a storm. They’re both already a bit uneasy because the basement is creepy as hell, but it only gets worse when a power outage hits and everything is completely dark.

The power cuts while Person A is playing video games and Person B is reading a book. Person B continues reading (using the light of a flashlight or candle, of course) but Person A is super bored and won’t stop complaining about it. Feeling very annoyed, Person B flips back to page 1 of their book and begins reading it out loud to hopefully entertain Person A. After a few chapters, the power comes back on but Person A is so engrossed in the story that they convince Person B to continue reading the rest of it to them.

[starlit-havens]

y’all have any prompts you want me to do!

[starlit-havens]

(if you don’t mind me continuing...)

Dark stands from his place at his desk, clasping his hands behind him in his typical formal fashion. “Doctor, please, I don’t have time for-“

“Damien?”

Dr. Iplier looks over at Wilford, who is staring at Dark with a confused expression. “Damien?” the doctor repeats. “Who are you talking about?” He turns to Dark, and that’s when he sees the demon’s face.

Dark’s hand finds his chair and he grasps it to steady himself. All the color has drained, merging into one monochrome frame, and his normal unrelenting ringing has ceased. For a moment, Dark seems inexplicably...human.

Wilford takes a step forward and Dark’s breath catches in his throat. “Damien, it’s me, William! Come on now, good chap, can’t recognize your own friend?”

Dark’s eyes dart between the doctor and Wilford. “What have you...what did you do to him?” He demands, his voice echoing and twisting in the cramped room. “What have you done?”

Fear sends Dr. Iplier stumbling back, raising his hands nervously. “Now listen here, I didn’t do a thing! These are just the effects of the anesthetics, should wear off after a good-“

That’s when Wilford sighs and collapses onto Dark’s bed, his eyes shutting.

“Rest,” the doctor finishes with a sigh.

“No, no no, wake him back up!” Dark commands, immediately going to Wilford’s side. “William, yes, it’s me, D...” He trails off as Wilford starts to snore. Dark’s demenour is soft, his tone pleading, as he gently murmers to his companion. It’s a complete shift when his next words rocket towards the doctor. “Get. Out.”

“I’m sorry?”

“Get out of this room!” Darkiplier spits, and Dr. Iplier winces in pain as the ringing begins, aggressive and violent.

The doctor nods and backs out of the door, holding one hand to his ear and the other to the doorknob, bringing the door to a close. The last thing he sees is Dark kneeling next to Wilford and gently lifting him up to set him on the bed. The demon sits at the foot of the bed and buries his head in his hands.

Click. The door closes.

Dr iplier dealing with any other ego after a wisdom tooth removal?

“How… bad is it… Doc….” Wilford asks sleepily. 

“It’s fine, Wil,” Dr Iplier gets ready to deal with the usual nonsense that Wilford spouts off.

“Well that’s good to hear,” Wilford says groggily, “I was worried this operation would go south. You know they say sometimes the anesthesia doesn’t wear off and your mouth can go numb?”

“How are you talking so well?” Doc asks in surprise, “That’s not supposed to happen.”

“But I can still feel mine, I suppose so that’s fine.” 

“Wilford what’s your favorite thing to do?”

“I do enjoy a hunt!” 

Doc goes to Dark’s door and knocks. 

“What could you possibly want?” 

Doc pushes Wilford into the room, “You watch him. This is too strange for me.”  

[starlit-havens]

“I can’t do much,” my brother says as he watches me from his wheelchair at the kitchen table.

“What makes you say that?” I ask him. His cup in my hand, I take the milk from the fridge and begin to fill it, looking over at him every now and then.

“So, thank you for taking care of me even though you have your wisdom teeth out.” He nods, his thought completed.

I chuckle. “Dude, no problem,” I answer, handing him his drink. It’s day 2 since I’ve gotten my teeth out, so I’m basically back to normal, but the comment warms my heart anyways.

Joshua jolts in his chair as he finishes his drink and looks up at me. “Wait!! Is this your first surgery?”

“Yep,” I respond as I begin to set up his ipad for him.

“Perfect,” he says with a grin.

I bap him lightly on the right shoulder. “What, are you pleased because you have more surgeries than me?”

“Yep,” he answers smugly. “And you aren’t beating me.”

“Kinda hard to beat you, dude, considering.”

He laughs, the pump inside his stomach rolling with him.

[starlit-havens]

Sick Day

(thanks to @askthesyraxian for the idea!)

“Ah....ah...aCHOO!!”

“FUCK!”

Chase burst into the doctor’s office, almost red with fury. He was almost surprised his hat didn’t start smoking as he made a beeline for Dr. Schneeplestein, took a fuming breath, and tapped him politely on the shoulder.

“Chase, you must understand, colds do not disappear overnight!” The doctor snapped before Chase could say anything. “Zhere is nozzing I can do until zhe immune system overrides it. You must be patient!”

Chase gave a mirthless laugh. “Doc, I’d love to, but it’s kind fucking hard when every time this guy even coughs, the whole floor flickers off!” He gestured to the Ego lying on the cot who was grinding his teeth in contempt.

“Look, Brody, I don’t like this any better than you do,” the sick man hissed. “Seriously, having to rely on someone? Being vulnerable? That’s kind of against my whole brand.  But I...” he paused, anticipating a sneeze. The two standing Egos ducked in anticipation. “I...I....” Anti sniffed, shaking his head to clear it. “I can’t help getting sick once in a while.”

“Can’t you turn off your powers or something while you’re sick?” Chase demanded helplessly. “I literally almost shot Jackie because the lights went off while I was doing some light target-practice.”

“He shot an arrow at me!” Jackieboy Man yelped, sticking his head into the office.

The doctor pinched the bridge of his nose. “Chase, how many time have I told you not to use your crossbow indoors?”

“AhCHOOO!”

Crash! The lightbulbs in the office burst, sending fragile shards spraying from the ceiling. Everyone covered their heads and eyes amidst shouts of surprise, almost drowning out the caterwaul that came from the kitchen.

Chase raised his hat from his face to look worriedly at Dr. Schneeplestein before running to the kitchen, the doctor close behind.

Marvin looked quite pitiful as he stood in the center of the kitchen, covered from head to toe in black soot. The oven was open, and smoke billowed out from it, carrying the scent of burning meat. The magician himself seemed unhurt, but his cape was in tatters at his feet.

“Oh, shit, Marv, are you okay?” Chase asked feebly. Talking was a little harder when every breath brought in smoke.

“I’m literally going to yeet myself off this planet,” the magician whispered. “I have been thinking about this chicken all morning. All morning. I’m not even fucking joking. It was the first thing that popped into my mind, right after my morning existential crisis. I thought to myself, ‘man, life sucks absolute ass, but at least I’ll be able to have some delicious, freshly-made, perfectly-seasoned, slow-roasted chicken for dinner.’ And look at what’s left of it.” He gestured to the burnt carcass inside the oven. “Look at what the merciless gods have done to me. This is what I get for expecting something good in this hell of a mortal realm.”

“Jaysus FOOkin’ Christ, someone’s a drama queen,” a voice snarled behind them. Chase and Henrik turned to see Anti leaning against the door frame. Jackie peered out nervously from behind him. With a paler tint to him, Anti’s glitching seemed lackluster and slow, as though he was almost...lagging, like a computer. “Listen, magician, you’re not the only one in pain here. You think I enjoy being taken care of?”

“I don’t THINK anything,” Marvin retorted.

“Clearly.”

“Come on, guys,” Chase said over the magician’s outraged gasp. “Let’s put our heads together. Is there any way we can get Anti to not have this effect on the house?”

“We could put a pillow on his mouth every time he sneezes?” Jackie suggested hopefully.

Anti shook his head. “I don’t trust any of you not to smother me. And I don’t want you touching me, Brody,” he said before Chase could protest. “You try to get all ‘mother hen’ on me and it’s fucking weird. I just want to get better, is there any way I could get better quick?”

“Yes, vis plenty of sleep and fluids-“ the doctor responded before Marvin interrupted him.

“Chicken noodle soup might help- Oh wait, we don’t any chicken now. Because it’s burnt. Because of you.” Marvin stared pointedly at the glitching Ego, who rolled his eyes.

The doctor cleared his throat. “Marvin, don’t you have a spell to cure colds?”

Marvin scoffed. “There are so many things wrong with that suggestion. First, that I’m a good enough magician to pull that off. Second, that it would work on a glitch demon. Third, that I’m willing to help an absolute piece of shit like-“

“I may be under the weather, but you’ll be six feet under GROUND if you keep talking like that,” Anti interjected, the menace in his voice dampened slightly by his stuffy nose.

Nevertheless, the magician went pale. “I-I guess it’s worth a shot!”

Chase nodded and turned to Henrik and Jackie. “Alright, guys, let’s stand back, give Marvin his space.” The three backed up, leaving just the magician and the demon in the kitchen.

“If you fuck me up in any way, you will never feel happiness again,” Anti hissed under his breath.

“Jokes on you,” Marvin whispered as he closed his eyes, “I have crippling depression.”

He raised his wand, muttered a spell, and brought his hands down with a deafening BOOM!

***

Chase lifted himself up from his place against the hallway floor, wincing slightly as he assessed his injuries. A few cuts, some bruises, but other than that, he was fine. Jackie, Henrik, and Marvin stood up from where they lay as well and turned to view the kitchen in awe.

The tables, chairs, cooking utensils, and any food lying about had all been turned to black dust which layered every inch of the room, covering even the rest of the Egos, and parts of the hallway. The sliding glass door which was the exit to the porch had been completely blown away, and dusk light was streaming in hazily, giving a warm gray tone to the kitchen. Marvin looked around in shock, reaching up to ruffle the ash from his hair absentmindedly.

“Hey, the cold’s gone,” Anti said, breathing in the air through his nose, completely unfazed. “Nice work, Marvin.”

The magician let out a squeak akin to that of a mouse.

Someone cleared their throat behind Chase. He turned.

Jack stood amidst the rubble, a blank expression on his face.

Chase gave a nervous laugh. “Hey dude, it’s uh, it’s not what it looks-“

“Guys, what the fuck? What happened?” It wasn’t an angry question so much as a resigned one as Jack looked around and sighed.

Anti grinned. “Marvin cured my cold.”

[starlit-havens]

haha, you don't need my permission to write the fic, go right ahead! I'd love to see it!!!!!

HELL YEAH GUESS WHAT WE���RE WRITING TONIGHT BOYS

Thanks love!

[starlit-havens]

Uh oh, looks like I’m gonna be writing a fic about this if @askthesyraxian doesn’t mind!

okay but on the topic of egos sneezing, Anti's sneezing causes lights to freak out & other spooky shit to happen

he’s like an alien in the sense that his very fucking presence makes everything freak the heck out jfgdhkjf

Anti: *sneezes**the tv explodes*

[starlit-havens]

Breathe

“Guys, is this really the time?”

Jackie nodded as Marvin spoke, clutching the arm of his close friend. “We can argue later, let’s focus on what we need to do now!”

Chase stopped pacing and spun to face the hero and sidekick. “What we need to do now?” He repeated dubiously. “What the hell can we do?”

“You can stop yelling, first of all,” Henrik snapped as he pushed up his glasses.

Chase snorted and began pacing again. “Oh, like you weren’t screaming like a little bitch at me just a few seconds ago.”

“Jesus fucking Christ,” Marvin muttered, rubbing his face.

The vlogger narrowed his eyes. “Marvin, you can’t just stand there and pretend that Henrik isn’t acting like the most pretentious, pompous, ignorant assho-“

“Chase.” That was Jackie, his eyes wide as he shook his head. “Stop.”

“No! No no no, I vant to hear vat he has to say to me,” the doctor interrupted, a syrupy sweet tone to his voice that made Chase’s insides writhe with discomfort. He hated when his friend got like this, sarcastic and cold. It made him feel so utterly alone, so utterly useless.

“That’s not necessary!” Jackie uttered worriedly. “If we just take a second to calm down-“

“You want to hear what I have to say to you? I’ll fucking tell you,” Chase retorted furiously, ignoring the others. “You come waltzing in here after nine months of absence, nine fucking months, and expect us to believe you were doing the right thing? You expect us to blindly follow your orders, when you don’t even know what we’ve had to do while you’ve been gone!”

Marvin looked away when Chase said that, an unreadable expression on his face. “That’s not important.”

Chase shook his head and stared at the doctor, searching for some glimmer of guilt, of sadness, of empathy. “Not important? Marvin and I have had to fill in for you while Jack’s been lying on your medical table for almost a year, Jackie’s been interrogating JJ because we still can’t trust him all this time...”

At this, Jackie let go of Marvin and shoved his hands into his pockets. “I don’t...”

“Seriously?” Chase demanded. “You guys are just going to- I’m really alone on this?”

There was a moment’s respite as the two avoided looking at him. Chase rolled his eyes and turned to the doctor once more. “And you! You’ve just been gone!”

Henrik passed his tongue over his lips, his eyes avoiding Chase’s gaze. “Chase-“

Chase didn’t stop. “You left me alone, standing day after day at his bed waiting desperately, hoping to any god that he’d wake up! We don’t know shit about medicine! Marvin had to try spells for curing colds just so he wouldn’t die from lack of fluids! You can’t even imagine what we’ve had to-“

The doctor drew a breath. “Chase, I-“

“When we needed you,” Chase shouted, “when I fucking needed you, you were gone on some fucking vacation because you were too caught up in your psychopathic tendencies to notice you were trying to kill our best friend!”

The room went dead silent.

“Excuse me?” The doctor said, his voice dangerously low.

Chase blinked, realizing what he had said. “I...Henrik, I’m-“

Henrik took a step closer, his eyes glinting bright blue in the muted fluorescent light of the ceiling bulbs. “Brody, I vant you to understand one very important sing. If I vas caught up in my “psychopathic tendencies”, if I had vanted Jack to die...”

Looking at his friend, Chase suddenly found it hard to swallow.

“He vould have been dead in the first thirty seconds.”

Chase stumbled backwards, avoiding Henrik’s eyes. “I...yeah, I get it, dude. I got it.” Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Jackie looking nervously in his direction. The magician was nowhere to be seen.

“Henrik, Chase...let’s all just...let’s all just take a deep breath, okay?” The superhero whispered. The silence in the room suddenly seemed to weigh down upon the three egos, to the point where it felt like an act of violence to speak.

“Yeah...I...deep breath,” Chase agreed, breathing in and choosing instead to look at Jackie. He feared what he might find in Schneeplestein’s eyes.

The doctor rearranged his jacket. “If you vill excuse me, I must attend to my patient now.”

“Yeah, no worries, doctor!” Jackie didn’t point out the lack of emotion in Henrik’s voice, or in the way he mechanically turned and walked towards the door. Turning instead to Chase, the superhero bit his lip as he thought. “Chase...I understand you’re angry. We all had to do pretty hard shit while Henrik was gone. But we’re not the only ones who are suffering.”

Chase snapped his head up. “What, you think Henrik’s suffering? After what he did?”

Jackie tentatively put his hands on Chase’s shoulders. “We still don’t know what happened in the E.R. And we’re not sure where Henrik was all these months. All we know is that Anti was involved, and that spells trouble. We can’t go blaming the people we love before taking that into account.”

There was a moment of silence as the two Septics stared at each other, understanding seeming to flow through them.

Chase’s shoulders slumped. “I can’t do this alone, Jackie.”

“For as long as the rest of us are breathing, you can count on us,” Jackieboy Man stated determinedly, pulling Chase in for a hug.

Chase breathed out.

[starlit-havens]

Send me a headcanon and I'll write a story about it

Please, no shipping or nsfw! My take on the Egos is more sibling-like (and it feels like I’m shipping twins tbh)

[starlit-havens]

Hey kids

I’m not sure if anyone remembers that they’re following this blog, but feel free to hit me up with prompts! Any septic or iplier egos can be written.

[starlit-havens]

Okay, this isn't really a question but...I really appreciate your headcanon of Will as him being autistic and Bim having OCD. My little brother as autism and some of the obsessive tendencies seen in OCD so I'm always happy to see it being represented accurately in fiction!

Ack!!! I’m sorry for not answering sooner b! This blog has been on a little of an unannounced hiatus as of late. anyways!I’m super glad you enjoyed that! I tried to represent their disabilities as accurately as possible, (not making Bim a super stereo-typical organized person or whatever) and I’m pleased you responded well to my efforts! Thanks for the kind words <3

[starlit-havens]

Uhhh can I get a fucking uhhhhh one of the bois gets a stab wound and everyone immediately blames it on Anti, who is actually innocent. Someone was just super clumsy and is too embarrassed to admit it. Maybe Shneep figures it out with Doctor Science. (Up to you. I have full faith in you. :D Thanks!)

Just another day at Ego HQ! Well, more or less. (Part 1 of 2)

"Shit shit shit!" A shriek was heard from the kitchen as Jackaboy Man collapsed on the floor, groaning in pain. Anti backed up, hands raised as he ran a calculating gaze over the superhero's fallen body. "Oh god..." Jackie wept as he clutched his hand, blood beginning to trickle through the cracks of his clenched fingers.

In a flash, Jack sprinted into the kitchen, surveying the scene before him and just as quickly kneeling before Jackaboy. "Shit, dude! What happened?" Noticing Anti standing behind the table on the opposite side, Jack narrowed his eyes at the Ego before turning back to inspect Jackie's hand.

A deep laceration stretched across the Ego's hand, the drops of dark red blood gradually turning into a steady stream. Inspecting the damage, Jack jumped up and got a rag from the kitchen drawer, wrapping it around as a makeshift bandage. "Come on, buddy. Let's get you to Schneep's office, okay?" 

Jackie nodded and huddled close to Jack, turning a fear eye toward Anti as he got up. The two made their way unsteadily to the good doctor's office, leaving the glitching demon to his lonesome in the kitchen.

"You've got to be fucking kidding me," Anti grumbled dubiously, reluctantly following them after a moment.

When he arrived, Schneeplestein was already tending to Jackaboy's hand, cleaning off the blood and instructing the superhero to keep his hand under the cold water of the faucet. Jackie nodded and winced at the biting temperature of the water, turning away from the three Egos standing in the office.

"Now," Schneeplestein snapped. "Vhat zhe fuck happened?"

"Anti, you wanna explain yourself?" Jack demanded, a threatening tone to his unusually quiet voice.

Anti raised his hands once more in disbelief, shaking his head. "Me? I did fuck-all. You should ask your clumsy superhero."

Jack wasn't convinced. More than once he was the one who had to break up fights between Anti and others, and by fights he meant Anti trying to slit people's throats. This was the first time he hadn't seen the action take place, however. But it was too much of a coincidence for Jack to believe Anti; he'd need proof that his alter ego was innocent.

"Come on, Lettuce Boy," Anti appealed with a sickening smirk. "Innocent before proven guilty! What are we running here, a dictatorship?"

"I'm not running anything here," Jack responded, irritated. "We all run this juncture collectively. That means we can't go around stabbing people willy-nilly!" Crossing his arms, he glared at the Ego, who at this point had sat himself in a chair, disinterested and bored. "So why'd you do it?"

"I don't even have my knife with me, smart one," Anti snapped, the chair beginning to glitch with him as he became more agitated. "How'd I commit the crime?"

"Crime?" Schneeplestein lit up, his finger in the air as an idea seemed to spark in his brain. "Perhaps ve can solve zhis mystery if Anti von't tell us! Und ve all know who to call to become zhe detective on zhis case!"

All three Egos stared at Schneeplestein confusedly.

"Marvin!" The good doctor exclaimed exasperatedly. "Haven't you seen him vis his little spy gadgets? Zhe boy is all about zhe mystery games!"

"Well, okay. It can't hurt to try," Jack replied, shrugging as a smile spread across his face. "Where is he?"

"Downstairs in the basement, dumbass," Anti snarled as he leapt from his chair to exit the room. "Am I the only one who actually keeps tabs on the people in this building?"

"Thanks man, but why are you helping us?" Jack inquired as he followed the glitch to the stairwell.

"I'm just as eager to prove my innocence as you are to prove my guiltiness," Anti retorted. "I just want to be done with this as soon as possible, okay?"

The three made the trip downstairs as Jackaboy stayed in the office, nursing his wounded hand. 

"Dude, you're so dope at this!" A voice sounded in the basement, the recognizable hint of stereo-typical Californian accent glazing it. "Is this what you're doing when you're not, like, magicking and stuff?"

"Ah, I guess? I don't know," A hesitant reply followed. 

Jack opened the basement door and greeted the two men that were there. "Hey Chase! Hi Marv!" Anti and Schneeplestein followed as all five Egos congregated on the lowest level of the building.

"Saaahhhh dudes?" Chase dabbed in his usual greeting with a friendly face for each new person, even Anti. "What's up?"

"Not much, Brody dear. Ve vere needing Marvin, however," Schneeplestein explained, turning to Marvin for his consent.

"You... need me?" Marvin asked incredulously, wringing his hands in nervous anticipation. "Shit, what for?"

"Schneeps here says you're kick-ass as solving mysteries, and we've got our own little problem here that we'd love you to take a look at," Jack told him, his warm smile growing even bigger as he saw the magician's clear delight.

"No fucking way!" The Ego declared, pumping one hand in celebration. "Gimme a sec to get my stuff! I'll meet you in the living room!" With that, he fled up the stairs and disappeared from view.

"What were you guys doing in here, by the way?" Jack asked Chase, nodding to the nerf bullets littering the ground.

"Marvin's a dead shot with this stuff, dude." Chase shook his head, clearly impressed. "If that kid spent actually worked on stuff that he likes to do, he'd be amazing at so much! But he spends that time instead just hating himself."

Smile faltering, Jack tucked his hands under his arms and looked down. "Yeah. Hopefully this'll get his mind off of those types of things. I wish there was something we could do."

Schneeplestein sighed and began to make his way upstairs, presumably to see how Marvin was coming along. After a moment, Jack cleared his throat and looked back up at the baseball-capped Ego, offering a small smile. "Hey man, sorry we took your trickshot partner away for a bit. You wanna come help us with the mystery?"

"Nah, I'm good fam. I wanna get this epic move right, and practice makes perfect!" Chase laughed.

The two Egos left the stairwell and headed for the living room to see what Marvin had done. However, Anti stayed a moment. He seemed to be dwelling over what Chase and Jack had just said.

Chase noticed him still standing there and lowered his gun hesitantly. "Yo, Anti, everything gucci?"

Anti's eyes darted to Chase's, his momentary contemplation leaving his face as he realized where he was and who he was alone with. "I'm fine, Brody. I'm gonna go see what our magic boy has to offer." He skulked towards the stairs, but before he touched the door handle, he turned back to leave his parting words. "Oh, and by the way, this is my basement. I'm just letting you have it."

Chase furrowed his eyebrows, confused. "Your basement? But it's just the Ego HQ basement. We can share it if you want, though."

"No, it's fine. My plans aren't ready to be put into action." Giggles echoed around the room, filling Chase's ears with faint maniacal laughter.

"Plans?" Chase took a nervous yet firm step towards the Ego, hand clenching his nerf gun. "Dude, what are you planning to do?"

Anti's eyes went black. "You'll have to find out, Chase." With that, the Ego let out a bone-chilling cackle and dematerialized, leaving Chase alone with his weapon.

[starlit-havens]

Dealbreaker

(The fic that no one asked for. @assbutt-of-the-readers, this is for you.)

Mark had never entered the basement before. He considered it off limits, taboo. He knew that's where Dark liked to go when he was planning new ideas, but for once the demon had elected to stay in his room. The only person down there was Anti. And that was the only person Mark had to talk to.

He hesitated before touching the door. I don't know if I can do this.

As he held out his hand to turn the doorknob, he realized he was shaking. Pulling his hand away, he clutched it close to his chest and took a couple deep breaths, squeezing his eyes shut and backing up until his calves were against the first step. I haven't got a choice. I have to. Steeling himself, Mark mustered all the strength he had and turned the doorknob, stepping into the dark basement floor.

At once, his senses were assaulted with the stale smell of mold and darkness, the type of darkness where you can't tell whether your eyes are open or closed. Blinking rapidly, Mark shoved his glasses higher up onto his face in a vain attempt to see better. He sneezed, rubbing his nose as he turned around, trying to spot a glimmer of light.

"What are you doing here?"

Mark squinted into the darkness, trying to pinpoint the source of the voice. "I've come to talk."

"How...interesting."

Hands balled into fists, Mark bared his teeth as he turned around, sure the voice was behind him. "Come out. Stop hiding like a little bitch."

"If this is your talking, I don't think I like it." The voice became more of a searing screech, overpowering like the white noise when a TV malfunctions. "Why don't you run back home before I make you do things that will leave you sobbing on the floor?"

The voice was definitely behind him. Mark backed up, fists in front of him now. "I'm not just here to talk. I have a... I have a deal to make with you."

The glitching sounds ceased, the room becoming eerily quiet. "A deal, Fisbach?" Suddenly, Anti was in front of him. 

It was unnerving, seeing his best friend this way. Anti looked just like Jack, but in so many ways he was the exact opposite. The green hair that Jack tried so hard to tame was upright and waving about as Anti moved, the usual friendly blue eyes now cold and hardened like steel. A greenish tint turned the demon’s skin a sickly color, the disturbingly large knife in his hand an olive green and silver.

Mark swallowed, shoving his fear back into his stomach as it threatened to arrive as a pathetic whimper. "A deal, Anti. You still interested?"

The Ego crossed his arms, sharpened knife slipping skillfully behind his elbow. "You could say that. What deal?"

Mark glared at him through the tuft of hair that fell from his wavy locks as he lowered his head. Anti was terrifying to behold, especially here in his element. Glitches echoed across the room, glimmering near and far. Mark watched nervously as some of the glitches slit their own necks, while other danced about, giggling. 

Anti moved closer, leering and twitching. "What's the matter, boy? Cat got your tongue?"

Backing up even more, Mark narrowed his eyes, determined not to lose his head. "Here's my deal. You leave Jack alone, and I give you control of my channel for a day."

The glitches stopped again, leaving Anti alone and in Mark's face. "What?" Anti snarled.

Mark stopped as his back hit the wall, realizing the demon had cornered him. "You heard me. Leave Jack alone, and you get my channel for one day."

Anti said nothing, but the look on his face was enough. The knife twirled precariously in his fingers, getting dangerously close to Mark.

"Yeah, I know about your stupid fucking plan," Mark snapped, anger welling up inside him as he began to remember why he was making this deal in the first place. "I know all about how you're gonna keep him down here and torment him, and enlist his community to destroy him. I fucking know, okay?"

The silence was unnerving.

"And I know I can't do shit about it. So I'm making a deal, okay?" With nowhere to run, Mark got up in Anti's face, baring his teeth in fury. "You leave Jack the fuck alone!"

"I suggest you stop yelling before I make you," Anti growled, not backing down. The two were an inch apart, power flowing through their veins. Two dominant figures searching the other's eyes, determining who was the stronger of the pair. 

"I don't want your channel for a day, Mark. I want it permanently."

Mark closed his mouth, eyes widening as he stepped back against the wall. "...What?"

"You heard me."

Wordlessly, Mark shook his head, weighing his options. He knew that both communities would suffer if either one of their channels was taken over by their demon counterparts... but if it was to save Jack...!

"Or even better. I leave Jack alone, and in return, I get you."

Mark looked up in shock. Anti shot him a smirk, fingers sliding down the edge of his knife. "If I'm going to agree to any deal, I want to have fun, at least. You can be Jack's stand-in. What do you say?"

The YouTuber felt his shoulders beginning to shake as terror flooded through him. He couldn't hide his panic any longer. If Jack is safe, than the deal is a success. I have to do this. "Yes, you do," Anti cackled, a cacophony of maniacal laughter bombarding the room as glitches swirled amongst them. A single light snapped on, beaming down on a large jail cell with no gate or door. Blood-splattered chains littered the floor of the cell, Mark knowing all too well whose blood that was. 

Suddenly, Mark found himself inside the cell, chains encircling his hands and pulling tight. Searching the room for Anti, he located him at the very edge of the room, about to climb the stairs. "I've been building up a pain tolerance for quite some time now!" He roared, vocal chords straining as he tried one last attempt to get under the Ego’s skin. "You'll have to try pretty hard to break me!"

"Oh, I'm not worried about that," Anti laughed, shrugging. "I'm not going to be doing physical torture here. Not when we have so much other ammo upstairs." With a snap of his fingers, Jack appeared next to Mark, body slumped against the ground as the chains trapped the unconscious Irishman. 

"Jack!" Mark shouted desperately before seeing the faint rise and fall of his friend's chest. Standing up, he slammed himself into the bars of the cell, trying to break free from his chains. "You fucking piece of shit! You promised you wouldn't touch him!"

"I didn't promise shit, Fisbach. Who plays the game by the rules anymore?" Giggling, Anti disappeared and the room went dark. Mark continued bashing himself against the cell bars, frantically trying to escape. After a moment, he let himself slide down against the brick wall next to his green-haired friend, unable to see him.

"I won't have to lay a finger on you to break you, Mark." Anti's words bounced around the room before fading away. 

The only sound breaking the silence was Mark's heaving gasps as he pulled his knees close, fighting down sobs. He could hear the soft and even breathing of Jack as the green-haired man lay beside him, completely still. There was nothing left to do except wait for him to wake up.

Mark covered his face with his hands, tears flowing freely now as he heard his friend. Huddled against the wall, Mark was completely overwhelmed with sadness and guilt. "Jack... what the fuck have I done?"

[starlit-havens]

Fire

Commission for : @oncoming-storm-stole-the-impala Along with @staticandglitches @i-love-the-egos @mizukikuramoto

The metallic click of professional dress shoes echoed through the hallway of the hospital, reverberating around the empty rooms. Coming to a complete stop, there was a moment of quiet as a slight shuffling of papers crinkled in someone's hands. Three hollow knocks rang out as the doctor began his daily rounds.

The Host listened to his movements, cataloging each sound as Dr. Iplier headed into Bim Trimmer's room to deliver his meds. He knew that once that was done, the doctor would check on Wilford, then call up Mark to make sure everything was alright. Running through the list in his mind, The Host settled more comfortably in his chair, sensing the fireplace before him as it flickered brightly.

A doorknob squeaked and turned as the doctor exited Bim's room, steps sounding again as he headed towards Wilford's room. Those footsteps never faltered, only stopping suddenly and starting just as abruptly. The doctor knew where he was going every second of every minute, every minute of every hour- and if he didn't, he wouldn't move until he was sure again.

The Host sat in silence, feeling the warmth of the fireplace on his hands and legs. He sat close to the fire whenever he could- when he was silent, he could imagine the warm glow radiating from the flames. He remembered the reds and golds melding together in an aggressive dance, hungrily lapping up anything in its way. He always tried his best to write with that fire in mind, but somehow, he just couldn't convey it. Not since he lost his sight, anyway.

The familiar garble of Wilford died down as the door closed, and The Host heard the Doctor march towards the wall where a phone hung, methodically punching numbers in and rearranging papers as he always did. The Host heard Mark's friendly voice, and the doctor's relieved response. A click and the phone once again hung on the wall.

The Doctor's rounds were not done, however.

The Host gently got up from his chair, a sturdy hard cushion with a looming supporting back. Setting his quill and notebook down on the small desk next to him, he slowly made his way to the door, fingers trailing on the wall next to him. He never strayed too far away from the wall. It was something that always stayed constant when everything else didn't. He left the fireplace behind, and with it, his disappointment.

"The Host moves to the door, reaching it a moment before the doctor knocked," he murmured, the words flowing from his lips on their own accord. He could never tell when he would start narrating, but there was nothing to do except wait until it stopped. Opening the door, he sensed the doctor standing there, a quick intake of breath at the sudden movement. There was a scuffle of fabric meeting fabric as the doctor put his hand down, about to knock.

"How do you do it?" the doctor asked, shaking his head in resigned disbelief. The Host said nothing, just stepped to one side to let Dr. Iplier inside. Taking off his shoes, he sat down at the dining table, and The Host heard the gauze as it left the pocket of his lab coat. The blind Ego closed the door and shuffled forwards, discreetly reaching out to find the table. When he did, he pulled a chair out and sat down next to the doctor.

"How are you today?" Dr. Iplier asked as he began to take out the necessary medical utensils for the daily job.

"The Host replies that he is doing well, nodding to the doctor in a formal, but not unwelcoming way," The Host responding, frowning as he heard the words he used. He hated describing his emotions or feelings in his passive-aggressive way, but there was nothing he could do.

"That's good to hear. How is your writing coming along?" The doctor inquired.

"Sighing, The Host assures him that it is going well. He shakes his head, not seeming at ease."

"Why? What's the matter?" Reaching forward, Dr. Iplier gently placed his hands behind The Host's head, delicately brushing his face beforehand so as not to startle him. Even still, The Host became rigid, the stains on the bandages growing slightly larger.

"The Host wants to tell the doctor that he can remove his own bandages."

"Right. Sorry." Taking his hands away hurriedly, Dr. Iplier rested his elbows on the table. "You didn't tell me what's wrong, though."

Ripping the bandage on the back of his head, The Host slowly unwound the gauze. "The Host replies that nothing is wrong. The doctor is reading too much into things." He didn't mention the notebook on the table next to the chair filled with pages after pages of scribbled out notes, desperate fragments of sentences that always seemed to fall short. 

"Host, come on. Just tell me. I'm a doctor- I know what's best," Dr. Iplier reasoned, taking out some cotton balls and dousing them with liquid, the trickle of the treatment echoing in the room.

The Host remained silent, biting his lip in an effort not to speak. The last layer came off and he grunted in pain, peeling the bandage away from the sticky blood.

"Host, you can't tell me that you're not at ease and then not tell me what's wrong!" the doctor snapped, raising his voice.

"The Host asks the doctor to lower his voice," The Host murmured, fighting back the urge to say more.

"SHUT UP, NURSE!" Dr. Iplier roared, standing up whipping his head to the side and shouting at the empty room. Shaking his head to clear his thoughts, he glared that the stoic Ego. "I'M A DOCTOR! I KNOW WHAT'S BEST!"

"For once, I'm not the one who got angry first," The Host snarled, losing his normal pattern of speech as unfiltered rage poured out of him. He stood up as well, unconsciously mirroring the doctor. "How dare you yell at me, in my own room! The doctor is losing his mind, it seems!"

Dr. Iplier opened his mouth to speak, but all he could hear was the desperate nurse speaking in his ear. The Host heard it too. The Host heard everything. "The Host politely asks the doctor not to pry in his personal business." He spoke through gritted teeth. There was a moment of silence- then both of them sat, ashamed of their outbursts.

Without a word, Dr. Iplier gently wiped the blood-stained gouges on The Host's face, taking cotton ball after cotton ball to mop up the crusted, sticky blood. There was a beat of silence as the intimate moment occurred. Letting out a sigh, The Host fiddled with the cuffs of his straight jacket, hating this feeling of vulnerability, but knowing there was nothing he could do about it.

"They all think I'm crazy, you know," Dr. Iplier muttered, so quietly that to anyone else they would've thought they'd imagined it. Not The Host, however. "They all think their doctor is crazy."

"The Host assures the doctor that he is not insane."

"How do you know? Huh?" It wasn't an accusation, more like a plea. "How do you know that I'm not insane? I can hear her voice, screaming at me to stop panicking, every time I perform surgery or even do mundane checkups." Shaking, the doctor's hand pulled away. "How in the world am I not crazy?"

The Host hesitated, then spoke. "The Host can hear her too. An ever present voice, fighting with the doctor about everything he does. Sometimes he thinks she's his gentler side, sometimes he's sure that she wants everyone to die. He's plagued by her whispers of doubt and distress. The doctor is terrified that he will never be rid of her- a friend he never asked for, a shadow he never wanted. He knows there must be a way to stop her ceaseless complains. But how else do you rid yourself of a shadow besides plunging into darkness yourself?"

There was another moment of silence. It was broken only by the doctor's trembling breaths as he cried quietly, in near silent gasping sobs.

"The Host assures the doctor once more that he is not insane."

The tears gradually slowing, Dr. Iplier collected himself, cleaning his glasses and fixing his headpiece with familiar motions that now seemed foreign. The Host waited, as he always did. Finally, he felt the doctor tenderly wrap the new gauze around his face as though he was wrapping a baby in swaddling cloths. His work finished, the doctor stood to leave, packing up his kit and hurrying towards the door.

"The Host was upset because he didn't remember how to write fire," The Host burst out, standing up to turn and face Dr. Iplier. "Sometimes he sits in front of the flames and screams because the words are right in front of them and he just can't see them. And sometimes when he finally thinks he's gotten the words right, he'll leave his notebook alone for an hour and when he comes back, he can't remember what he wrote. It's killing him, doctor. He doesn't know what to do."

The doctor didn't move. Stock still, The Host waited desperately for his words, the only thing he could latch on to. He waited for some indication that the doctor had even heard him.

There was a cool touch of air as the doctor walked past him, heading for the fire. A familiar scuffle of paper as a notebook was picked up, and the ruffle of a feather as the quill was moved aside. Flipping the page, the doctor began to read.

"Reds and golds melding together in an aggressive dance, hungrily lapping up anything in its way. A rage-filled lust, yet somehow a peaceful embrace. Oranges and yellows and crisp blues flickering in and out of existence, twirling frantically and maniacally in a desperate reach for the stars. I wish I knew the stars they were after. I wish I saw those stars like they did. I wish I wish I wish I wish I wish..." Dr. Iplier's voice trailed off. The rest of the page was filled with those words, overlapping as the hand writing them forgot where it was and wrote over them with different fragments of thoughts. The page itself was dented with the strokes of the quill, a testament to the writer's unadulterated disgust and frustration.

There was silence- a sound that appeared too often in this room. Dr. Iplier stepped hesitantly towards the Ego, watching as a single tear made it past the bandage- not one of blood, but one of salty water, running down The Host's face and collecting on his chin, dropping to the floor.

Placing the book in The Host's hands, the doctor smiled. "If it would help you, I'd be more than willing to read what you've written so you know where you are and what you've done. I'll describe picture after picture if it will help you write anything even the tiniest bit close to what you've written here. Host, I'm here to help you. It's all I'm good for."

The Host cracked the tiniest of smiles. "The Host...The Host would appreciate that."

Dr. Iplier nodded, pleased, and opened the door to leave. "See you soon, Host."

"I look forward to it."

The sounds of purposeful footsteps echoed through the hallway once more as The Host traced his book with his weathered, calloused hands. "Thank you," he murmured, though no one but himself could hear it. 

"Thank you."

[starlit-havens]

Roommates

Kick. Kick. Kick.

Marvin attacked the door of his room with mutinous kicks, falling backwards each time from the force. The minimal amount of magic he was using fixed the door each time he hit it, but the door kept changing colors as he did so. "Come on...come on!" Marvin snapped, the cat ears on his mask flattening in frustration as the door turned a violent shade of red. "Why can't I do this for once?"

He kicked it hard, fuming. The dent was immediately erased, but the door turned a pastel blue. "Fuck!" Swearing, Marvin held his foot and bounced around, registering the intense pain. 

Suddenly, movement caught his attention in the corner of his eye. Letting go of his foot, he turned to face his bedroom wall, where Anti had glitched through. Their rooms were next to each other, and this situation was not an uncommon occurrence. 

"Venting our frustrations, are we?" Anti asked, giggling and gesturing to the door.

Marvin nodded. "I can't get this fucking door to just fix itself. It keeps changing colors."

"Is that... a usual mistake?" Anti asked with a tilt of his head. He leaned against the wall, crossing his arms. He didn't have his knife, for once. Without it, the demon looked bare, almost naked.

Sighing, Marvin shrugged. "Well, technically speaking I'm recreating the door, right? I'm not actually turning back time- that's way too difficult. So I'm rearranging the atoms of the door to make it back to normal. But in the process, I keep accidentally changing the color, too."

Anti nodded, following the conversation closely. He looked towards the door, which was now fading into different metallic colors ever so often. "Why not use a plate, or something?" He hissed softly, the glitches around him subsiding as they did when he was in a calmer mood. "Why attack a door?"

"I..." Marvin hesitated. "Well, I was angry. And this didn't help," he muttered, gesturing furiously to his door.

"Why are you angry?"

Marvin looked up and smiled, but there was no humor in it. "I have a lot of reasons to be angry. But most of the time I just shut up and feel sad about it. So sometimes it all just comes out of me and then..." pointing to the door once more, Marvin shrugged again and sat down on his bed. "Sorry if I was bugging you with the noise."

Anti cackled, the sound bouncing around unnervingly in the room. "I don't care. I get angry too. Besides, the door looks fine to me. It’s back to brown." He jutted his chin out at the door, which was now a saturated purple.

"Anti, you're color blind."

Anti giggled. "See ya later, magic boy." He phased through the wall and disappeared. 

Marvin shook his head and turned away, glancing at his nightstand and then doing a double take. His eye caught a stack of blank papers; he picked one up and tore it in half. Setting the two pieces on the floor, he looked down and then closed his eyes. When he opened them, there was a normal piece of white paper on the ground, no color change whatsoever. Staring in shock, Marvin opened his mouth and clasped his hands together in pure delight. Looking towards the wall, a soft smile graced the magician's features. Clutching the paper to his chest, the Ego dashed outside to show the others.

[starlit-havens]

Hello! If your still doing prompts, can you do one about Jack's egos finding Robbie?

- Heck yeah I can! Thanks for the prompt :) -

“Marv?”

Marvin was in his room as per usual. He was staring into the swinging bulb above his bed, narrowing his eyes against the bright light. When he heard his name, he turned towards the door to answer and realized that his vision was disfigured and blurry from staring for so long. “Well fuck me. I think I’m blind now.”

“Marv?!”

Marvin sighed, blinking rapidly to get rid of the massive sun spot covering his vision. “Can you give me a sec?”

“MARV PLEASE COME HERE RIGHT NOW”

Snapping on his cat mask, Marvin slammed open the door and charged towards the living room. “Jackie, if you make me catch another spider for you, I swear to-" 

He was shushed by the Ego as he entered the living room. Jackaboy Man was staring out the window, absolutely terrified. "Marvin, what the fuck is that?”

Marvin turned towards the window and peered out, the spot gradually fading. When he saw what Jackaboy was looking at, however, he wished he still couldn’t see.

“Who is that?!” Marvin demanded in a furious whisper.

“I don’t know!” Jackaboy moaned in terror. “I thought you could get rid of him with your magic or something.”

“Jackie I’m about as good with magic as you are at being a superhero, Chase is at trickshots and the doc is at surgery. We all suck,” Marvin pointed out, annoyed.

“Shh!”

Looking back at the lawn, Marvin felt sick as he saw the person staggering about the yard. He wore a striped black and white shirt that was ripped in every place imaginable, and had faded purple hair. Dark bags circled his eyes, and his irises were a milky white. The man moaned and grumbled to himself, trudging back and forth across the lawn. The worst part was, despite the gray and rotting skin, the man looked just like Jack.

“Do you think it’s another Ego?” Marvin muttered worriedly.

“Is what another Ego?” Chase strutted into the room, busy reloading his nerf gun. When he saw the two Egos leaning over the couch to look outside, he walked over and glanced at the window and froze in shock. “Woah. Dudes. Who is that?”

Marvin shook his head, not saying anything.

“I’m gonna go get the Doc. And Jack. That guy’s creepy as all heck, my dudes. Peace.” Chase dabbed and booked it for the good doctor’s room.

“If he attacks us, what’s our plan?” Jackaboy squeaked nervously, his attention fixed on the zombie.

Marvin shrugged dismissively. “The only one that would actually be a threat is Anti. And I don’t think he would help us out. Besides, what’s he gonna do, knock on the door?”

”Did someone call?” Anti appeared, crouching in the corner between the TV and the couch. Jackaboy reeled back in terror as Marvin jumped, startled.

”Hey, Anti. There’s just a creepy outside,” Marvin explained, heart slowing as he calmed down. Anti leaned forward and looked outside listlessly, then sat back, not saying anything. Often after his appearances in videos, the demon became tired and lethargic.

Chase came back with both Dr. Schneeplestein and Jack in tow. “Vhat is this shit?” The doctor asked, annoyed. “I vas een zee middle of a very important sing.”

“He was sleeping,” Jack explained. Schneeple glowered at him.

“Bros, shut up and look outside,” Chase told them, pointing to the purple-haired man. 

“Woah, what the fuck?” Jack walked closer towards the window to get a better view.

The doctor didn’t seem impressed. “If he doesn’t have money, I’m not feexing him.”

“That… that looks like the zombie I put in the thumbnail of one of my videos,” Jack murmured. “But… an entire Ego off of a thumbnail?”

The zombie turned and seemed to notice them. He raised his lips in what could almost pass as an endearing smile. Lurching towards them, he pressed his hands up against the glass and drooled happily.

“What the absolute fuck,” Jack whispered.

“Dudes! Don’t judge this guy! He’s one of us, right?” Without waiting for a response, Chase jumped over the couch in a lame attempt at parkour and summersaulted towards the door. “Imma let him in.”

“Chase! No!” The three Egos shrieked in protest, while Jack ran towards him. 

Before he could reach the capped Ego, Chase opened the door and called in a high pitched tone, “come here, zombie! Come here, ya little cutie!”

The Ego turned slowly towards the two green-haired Irishmen, lifting his hands off the glass and limping towards them at a faster pace. Marvin watched the scene in terror, heart pounding rapidly in his chest. He could feel Jackaboy Man whimpering and shaking next to him. Schneeps was standing in shock, not knowing which person to save first. Anti rose and clutched his knife until his knuckles were white, ready to defend himself if need be.

The zombie reached Chase and stretched out his hands, the long and gnarled fingernails grasping at him with weak force. Jackie screamed and Marv looked away, closing his eyes. The doctor covered his mouth, letting out a choked gasp.

“Hey, buddy! How ya doin, little dude?”

“Chase, he’s literally the same size as you. We are all literally the same person.”

Marvin opened his eyes and watched in disbelief as Chase led the new Ego into the living room. Jack followed them, closing the door and grinning from ear to ear.

The zombie sat down on the couch and gave a three-toothed grin towards the three other Egos. Chase and Jack sat down next to him as Dr. Schneeplestein took a reluctant seat next to Jackaboy Man. Anti stayed where he was, wary beyond all measure. All six Egos observed the zombie man as he looked around, pleased. He let out a couple grunts, and Jack, who was listening closely, smiled and turned to the others.

“His name is Robbie.”

[starlit-havens]

Great Minds

(Requested by @the-potatoy-one)

Anti sat, fuming, in the corner of Jack’s recording room. “I’m never coming out,” he muttered to himself, gouging deep lines in the carpet with his knife. His eyes darted to the door as he heard it open, revealing Jack’s ever-smiling face.

“Heya, glitch bitch. Why’re you hiding in here?” The Irishman asked, stepping into the room.

“I’m not coming out until he’s gone,” Anti spat, curling his lip.

“Aww, come on. I invited him over so that you two could bond,” Jack persuaded, sitting backwards on his green chair to look at the Ego.

“Bond, huh? How about this. You make me go out there, and I’ll put you in bondage,” Anti said, before looking away angrily. “That… that doesn’t make sense.”

Jack stifled a laugh. “Please just try? I swear, I’ll never invite him over again. And besides, you should probably go check on him anyways. He’s in your room.”

Anti looked up in shock and before Jack could say “potatoes”, he had glitched out.

Materializing into his room, Anti found a suited man in black and white standing at his nightstand, looking over the items that resided there.

“Darkiplier.”

The man turned, an ever-present seductive smile on his face.

“Antisepticeye.”

“Don’t touch my stuff,” Anti told him, glaring at the one eye that wasn’t covered by a soft ruffle of hair.

“I wasn’t going to,” Darkiplier responded, bored.

The two stared in silence at each other.

“So, how long are you staying?” Anti asked, gesturing vaguely towards him with his knife. Dark didn’t carry a weapon, though Anti knew him well enough to know that he didn’t necessarily need one.

“However long you want me to,” the Iplier Ego answered smoothly, hands behind his back.

“How sweet,” Anti sneered mockingly. “Then leave now.”

Dark ignored him, choosing instead to saunter over towards Anti’s bookshelf, musing over the treasures that lay there. Anti swept a calculating eye over the suited Ego, tension crackling in the air between them like a thunderstorm on a summer night.

Picking up a box that looked almost like a sunglasses case, Dark turned to Anti, red and blue versions of him slowly sliding into the shadows. “What’s this?” He asked with a tilt of his head.

“D̷̳͍͇̯̪͙̜͆̍̀͛̒͛̐͢r̷͈̺̖̙͉̘̜̼̦̄̂̎̈̓̑͜ȯ̶̤̙̖̣͚͕̫͐̌̆̋̓p̗͎̖̭̰͚̮̦̙̅̑̾͒̚͠ͅ i͓̗͇͔͓̱̗̊́́̿̒͌́̕̕t̢̥͇͙̘͙̣͇̥̤͌̒͒̂͗̒̕.” The words arrived as more of a violent, demonic hiss than an actual shout. 

Darkiplier smiled, realizing he had touched a nerve. “Make me.”

Anti grimaced as he watched the man raise his arm until the case was high above his head. “Enough with the games, you VHS cunt. Put the case down.”

The grin left Dark’s face at the insult. Suddenly, his shell broke and he snapped his arms close to his chest, the red man behind him getting bigger and more lagged. “Don’t you dare call me that!” He roared, failing the case around carelessly. Anti watched his every move, smirking as he saw the effect his words had caused. Just as quickly, however, Darkiplier composed himself and returned to his original pose, this time holding the case out in front of him. “Besides, glitch bitch, I’m the one in power here.”

Gritting his teeth, Anti took a step towards him and lunged towards the case. Dark lifted his hand out of the way just in time and the glitch collided with the demon. Anti jumped again and again, vainly trying to reach it. “Fucking- what do you want?”

“How about a kiss?” Dark crooned, laughing, waving the case above his head.

Anti stepped back, absolutely livid. “J̝̱̬̹̤́̈́͋͑̐̄͆̓͝͡a̷̢̻̠̯̙͛̓̂̋̉̈̌̕͘͢c̡̨͍̘͕͚͇̻̅͐̇̇͝k̛̛͕̳̺̰̝͛̌̈̈́̄̽̕!” He shrieked.

Jack came running into the room, looking around wildly. “Can you not do that?” He asked Anti once he realized what was going on. “That effect that you have on your voice fucking hurts!”

“He won’t give me my case back,” Anti retorted, pointing his knife towards Dark.

Jack sighed. “Really, guys? Am I breaking up a toddler fight? What is this?" 

Anti grumbled to himself, glowering at the floor, while Dark shrugged and brought his hand back down. Jack ruffled his hair and turned to the doorway resignedly. "Mark!”

Mark strolled in after a moment, waving to someone out of their field of view. “Hey guys! I was just introducing Bingiplier to Chase. What’s going on?”

Jack laughed. “I’m trying to get these two to stop picking on each other.”

“I’m not picking on him! He’s the one in my room, with my case!” Anti screamed, his voice grating on all of their ears.

“So brash,” Darkiplier winced. “When will you ever learn a bit of elegance?”

“Dark, I’m going to stab you in your fucking eyes. The Host will look like nothing when I’m through with you.”

“Is that a threat, or a promise?”

Mark and Jack stifled their laughs as they watched Anti’s glitches and Dark’s shell slowly breaking apart and materializing around the room like some sort of alien dance. “What’s in that case, anyways?” Mark asked, nodding towards the case and crossing his arms as Jack shrugged.

Anti stopped his glitching. “Nothing.”

“Let’s see,” Dark hissed, voice ringing and echoing. He snapped open the case before Anti could protest and looked inside.

Mark and Jack held their breaths as they leaned forward, curious despite themselves. Anti hopelessly bared his knife, Staring for quite a long time, Dark finally took out a large knife, gleaming in the dim light. It had a green bow tied around the handle, and the blade itself was pristine in condition. Dark turned it over, taking it all in. The two Youtubers stared, dumbfounded, and then looked at each other for confimation that they were seeing the same thing. The room was silent. 

“No one says anything about this, or I swear to what ever God you believe that I will rip out your entrails and feed them to you while I tear off your own leg and beat you to death with it,” Anti whispered. His voice was the most distorted they had ever heard.

Dark made a face and gently put the knife back in the case, setting it delicately in its place and sauntered gracefully out of the room. Mark and Jack rolled their eyes at each other and left the room, chuckling. As soon as they left, Anti’s door slammed shut, and the demon collapsed on his bed, sighing in relief.