#Dark is gonna come for Anti and I's kneecaps

[septicwriters]

Dark: "Get on your knees."

Anti:....

Dark: "I said get down on the ground!"

Anti: "What? S̛o ̕we ca̴n ̛t̛alk to͏ e͜a͜ch̀ot͡he̷r̛ at ̛th͏e͞ ͡sa̵m̨e h̶ie͝g̀ht̕?"

[notstilinski]

Yellowjackets Starters !

Taken from season one the 2021 Showtime series, Yellowjackets! Some of these have already been edited. You can change them however you see fit! There may be some light spoilers! Also, trigger warning for things such as blood, suicide mentions, etc.

“No, no. It fell into the tape deck, and I accidentally pressed it.”

“I know you’re letting other people tell your story. People who barely knew you. And they are making a lot of money doing it.”

“Remember, anger can be good.”

“It’s true. Violence is never the answer. But the anger you’re feeling, it’s useful.”

“And here I thought jocks were supposed to be able to party.”

“Aw, (Name). You dumb bitch.”

“Thank you, but I want to focus on the collective future, not my past.”

“You could see her fucking bones, (Name). I’m pretty sure it’s as bad as it looked.”

“No, It’s a marauding pack of thieves. We’ve come to burgle your twelve-year-old desktop and ceramic bunnies.”

“You remember when you tried to be Catholic?”

“Just wear the red dress I gave you. The boob dress.”

“You never talk shit unless someone deserves it. Also, I like your pilgrim hat.”

“It’s his only form of parenting. I guess I’ll take it.”

“If someone’s digging, we’re all fucked. Take care of it.”

“You know, you’re never going to get your strength back up if you don’t eat.”

“Oh, do you not realize what being home is?”

“You know, it usually takes people a couple of minutes of conversation to figure out. You’re good.”

“You are so mad and yet so wrong.”

“You think you can just miss the parent-teacher conference and buy us off with picadillo?”

“Oh, I know that I can buy (Name) off. With you, it’s more like cross my fingers, hope for the best.”

“What, am I not surprising you with how sexy this is?”

“For the record, I was trying to save you.”

“The lady in the tree. She watches me at night.”

“Oh, okay. I guess you’ve been thinking about what you did and just can’t live with yourself?”

“I’m sorry I’m interrupting you two not giving a shit.”

“Oh, I always get two of everything. That way I have enough to share.”

“Dying is nothing to be afraid of.”

“If you want your heart rate up, just tell me.”

“Then, afterward, he asked me for my socks. And he still never called.”

“If poison ivy is what kills me out here, then I deserve to die.”

“You don’t know that. We think we know what we’re doing, but really we have no clue.”

“Yeah. Wolves can kill anything if the packs big enough.”

“If you want me busting kneecaps, it’s gonna cost you extra.”

“It’s been three days. You guys can’t be that desperate.”

“You know, it’s never a good thing if a suspect lives like a hermit.”

“Such a good idea. You know you can learn so much about a person by going through their personal refuse.”

“Well, I was about to ask you the same thing, but apparently the answer is anti-terrorism.”

“So easy for you to judge others with your perfect life, right?”

“Well, I’ve been channeling you, so I’ve been dark and deadpan.”

“I can’t just be like this now. Why couldn’t I have just died?”

“I’m different from what people expect, and it scares them.”

“I just have a bad feeling about this place.”

“I don’t know what you’re so scared of, (Name). You’ve already got blood on your hands.”

“And do people usually write notes before they’re murdered? Or is that more of a suicide thing?”

“If you shit the bed again are you gonna ask for another do-over?”

“I’m not really in the business of shutting down a woman when she’s talking about how shapely my legs are.”

“Well, this is what a power couple should look like, don’t you agree?”

“You remind me of my granddaughter. No one really likes her either.”

“I know that when you look at me, you don’t see someone that you should be afraid of, but, uh, you’re wrong.”

“You just need to find the people who truly want to help you.”

“You were my best friend, then you just…”

“I know that you’re messed up right now, but that doesn’t give you a free pass to be a dick all the time!”

“It doesn’t matter how shitty they are. It still fucks you up when they’re gone.”

“Has hitting something ever fixed it?”

“The people who matter recognize Daria, okay?”

“I guess I can, uh, appease the local goblin community alone this year.”

“You taught me how to be like this, ya know?”

“When did you fall out of love with dad?”

“No, (Name), you’re not fine. You don’t think that I can’t see that?”

“Jesus, (Name). Treat me like a lady.”

“Um, actually, you don’t know. It was totally your fault. But we were kids, and it was awful.”

“How? You gonna sell your soul?”

“I was the high school boyfriend. That’s all I was ever gonna be.”

“Come on. Who hasn’t rolled over a broken tray table while making out in a bloodstained death trap?”

“The fifties called, they want your dumbass attitude back.”

“Goodnight. Sleep tight. Don’t let the fact that your a terrible person keep you up tonight.”

“I know this makes me, like, a totally selfish asshole, but I don’t want you to go, okay?”

“I’m sorry, it takes us getting blackmailed for you to finally care about being late?”

“It’s one of Amazon’s best sellers. Apparently, tracking people is really big right now.”

“I’m just saying, you know, if this was a horror movie, she’d be the villain, right?”

“Oh. No, no, no. Actually, I probably shouldn’t drive cause if we die, we will never find out who’s doing this.”

“Not the first time I’ve been held hostage.”

“Don’t drag us into your endless fucking pit of guilt.”

“Every single cell in your body wants to blow things up and see what happens. That’s who you are.”

“Wow. I’ve never been in a French farce before.”

“Well, I hate to break it to you, but we were just fucking. And your whole high school crush on me was cute, but now it’s just pathetic.”

“Oh, I’m sorry, it’s time to be discreet?”

“I know that is impossible for you to understand, but I am what he wants.”

“If you lost him, you’d be afraid that you have nothing left.”

“If you say (Name), I’m going to burn this whole fucking town down.”

“You obviously went through something super messed up, and I just wanted to understand.”

“Do we need a reason? We’re gonna be dead in a few weeks.”

“Tomorrow night. We’ll drink rotten berries and drink to our impending death.”

“I’ve just never been asked to one before, and I thought that this would be my one chance.”

“What mistakes did you make? Everybody loves you.”

“My mom always says that when a girl sets her mind to it, there’s no way that she can’t get to a man.”

“But I’m not going to let you go down for some stupid shit that I did!”

“Are you kidding? You have an entire safe full of secrets that you’ve never told me about.”

“Still kinda creepy up here.”

“Did you hear that mom? Dad? God? All my furry forest friends? I’m gay!”

“Hey. You’re all silent over there, that’s unusual. You got any ideas?”

“Because twelve percent of all killers are caught buying cleaning supplies.”

“I’m going to prison I’m going to prison for the rest of my life.”

“Okay, great! So, we’re just destroying evidence.”

“Sometimes I look at the world around me, and it’s like all the light has just gone out of it.”

“But these days with the Facetunes, the filters, and whatnot? You never know.”

“Yeah, you know, gardening, PTA, dismembering my lover’s corpse.”

“I hope you find whatever it is that you really need.”

“You’re so obsessed with yourself, I’m surprised your aware other people even exist.”

“You want to make a break for it?”

“It’s fucking disgusting work. I’d say it was soul-crushing if I remembered what it felt like to have one.”

[kookiebunnii]

d4u || a-tier healthcare

aug. 2018. finally moved back in today. i needed to get something for classes this year, but jungkook’s gone and hurt himself again. i swear the boy barely functions when he stays up all night playing overwatch. if he keeps this up, well, he better like hello kitty band-aids. 

pairing: best friend!jungkook x reader

genre: slice of life

word count: 1.4k

warnings: brief mentions of blood (like .2 seconds worth)

Most people you knew absolutely dreaded when school started. As soon as August and September roll around like a couple of snickering troublemakers, your fellow collegians would weep knowing that classes and exams were about to insert themselves into their schedules. It meant that summer, and all the freedom and laughter associated with it, was coming to an end. Instead of enjoying the bright sunshine and baby blue skies every day, the scenery was being replaced with drab grey walls and chairs that felt uncomfortable no matter how you sat.

Surprisingly enough, it didn’t really bother you all that much. You had spent summer working full-time at a relative’s restaurant as a waitress, meaning that you never got the chance to really take a vacation. The three months you were blessed with passed by like a blur. They were filled with placating tipsy adults or bawling infants, carrying as many plates as you could in your arms without spilling mystery sauce all over yourself, and bringing yourself to smile consistently on an 8-hour shift. It was far from an ideal summer, to say the least. In fact, you were relieved that classes were starting. Now, you could work and learn about concepts you were actually interested in. Besides, it also meant that you would get to move back into your apartment near university, which you shared with Jungkook. The boy loved traveling and spent most of his time jumping from one destination to another, filming small videos for G.C.F. You could count on one hand the amount of times you spent physically with him over the break, and as much as it pained you to admit—you missed watching him embarrass himself on the daily.

Late August was still warm, teetering curiously between summer and the beginning of autumn. You had just finished moving back into your place, feeling refreshed with a shower after the long trip. Deciding to head out and do some stationary shopping before preparing dinner, you pulled on your favorite shoes. It wasn’t like you needed anything in particular, since you’d keep the same 3-subject notebook from last year-- but the store you loved always had the cutest animal-shaped post-its. Surely it couldn’t hurt to find some (FaveAnimal) ones for this quarter, just to start off on the right foot.

Humming to yourself, you bounded down the stairs of your complex while double-checking your pockets for all your personal items. As you walked at a leisurely pace, you began wondering what Jungkook could be doing at this hour. You saw that his things were already back in his room, meaning that he was back for school as well. Maybe you’d make some pasta for the two of you when you get back, since he always liked when you cooked for him.

“Y/N!”

Hearing your name causes you to look up, realizing that the familiar saying really was true: speak (or in this case ‘think’) of the Devil and he shall appear.

“Guk?” you ask, observing the way he’s slightly favoring his left side as he walks towards you, “You good?”

You can see him wince as he approaches, but still trying hard to brush the pain off with a silly grin, “Not exactly.”

Pulling at his wrist, you realize that the skin on the side of his hand is broken and bloody. There’s dirt and bits of granite adhering to his skin, streaks of dried blood all over. You stay silent as you look down to observe his knee, seeing that his jeans are ripped with red stains that definitely weren’t part of any fashion statement. He had hurt his knee as well.

“Did you fall?” you guess, letting go of his arm to look him in the eyes questioningly.

“I bought a penny board over the summer since my classes are sorta far from each other this quarter. Guess I need more practice,” he shrugs nonchalantly before walking in the direction of your apartment, waving you away.

Frowning as you watch his back retreat where you came, you realize that by being the stupid worrywart you are, you only had one real choice in this scenario.

Sorry cute stationary, mommy’s gonna have to reschedule.

Sprinting to catch up with him, you silently walk beside him as the two of you head back inside the apartment. Even though he struggles up the stairs a little, you don’t hold him up or anything like that. You know that he hates when people treat him like a kid, so you’ve grown accustomed to accepting his stubbornness. Unless he’s literally on death’s door or asks for your help, you let him be responsible for himself.

Leaning his new penny board against the doorway, he enters the apartment with a sigh before heading to the bathroom to clean his wounds. Clicking your tongue like a disapproving mother, you head to the kitchen to look for the first-aid kit. After a couple of mishaps involving the kitchen knife and your clumsy fingers, you learned that that was the best place to keep it.

Pulling out some bandages, rubbing alcohol wipes, and anti-scarring cream, you follow him into the bathroom.

From the faucet, water runs over his hand as he gently brushes blood and dirt away from the injury. You can tell it hurts by the way his jaw is tight, and a small part of you feels bad to see him in any sort of pain…even if that pain is probably due to him trying out a trick he saw on Tony Hawk’s Pro Skater or something.

“Give me.”

You grab his hand and turn off the faucet. Patting his hand dry with his towel hanging from the side, you look at it closely to make sure the opening in his skin is relatively clean. Satisfied, you open up an alcohol swab and smile widely, “This is gonna hurt a lot!”

“Why am I not surprised that you seem to be happy saying that? Whatever…just hurry up” he looks at you blankly, but you can still feel his arm tense at your words.

You start with a quick and heavy swipe, and to his credit, he doesn’t even flinch. You follow up with more gentle administrations before tossing the wipe into the trash. The anti-scarring scream is cooling, so he’ll probably enjoy it a bit more.

After finishing up his hand, you let it go and catch his round, brown eyes staring at you. You stare back for two seconds before sticking your tongue out and causing him to laugh.

“Alright string bean, show me those kneecaps,” you roll up your sleeves to show that you mean business.

“On the first date? Damn,” he whistles before starting to unbutton his jeans.

“Alright I guess you’ll be handling your knee yourself.”

Closing the door behind you, you can literally feel the amusement radiating from him in waves through the wood. It was a wonder to you that he could be so casual and teasing with you, but once he sees a pretty female within a 10-mile radius, he’d act like a frightened rabbit. After all these years with him, he probably didn’t even see you as a woman. It didn’t particularly bother you, since you were just as friendly with him as he was with you. He’s seen you walk around the house with bed hair and dark circles, so you never felt the need to be cautious or nervous around him. The two of you cared for each other in a comfortable, relaxed way.

As you pull out tomatoes and fresh herbs from the fridge, you hear Jungkook leaving the bathroom. He fills up his favorite Overwatch mug with some water and takes loud gulps as you begin cutting your ingredients and boiling a large pot of water over the stove for the spaghetti.

“Pasta?”

You make a noise of affirmation. He gives the top of your head a few gentle pats which you understood as him thanking you for everything. You stop in mid-chop to pat his hand atop your head in response to let him know that it wasn’t a big deal at all. The beginnings of his special bunny smile start creeping in, and you resist the urge to tickle him to hide your own embarrassment. Just as you open your mouth to say something, he messes up your hair and runs into his room before you can get a punch in.

You wonder if he’s actually 21 this year or 11.

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

<< previous || masterlist || next >>

[letstalksymphogear]

Symphogear, EP.7 (Cont.)

“i have not now, nor ever, liked this creepy ass church elevator.”

“kanade please get out of my head, just because im hungry doesnt mean you have to tell me every time i am”

Hibiki finishes getting a full body X-ray. She’s fine.

“that anime protagonist immunity is really kicking in well!”

“by the way, your wife is here! and she’s looking mighty miffed., as opposed to me, mighty milfed.”

“you dont strike me as a mother figure but ill play along for now”

“i just hope miku’s okay...”

“oh, she’ll be fine! see, i’ve seen these kinds of plots before. big secret revealed, another lover is shown, the victim watches as they’re thoroughly cheated on, and they get to lik-”

“please stop breathing”

Genjuro’s wasting away again in Margaritaville. Looking for some daughter to adopt. SOME PEOPLE SAY THAT THERE’S A, WOOOOMAAAAAN TO BLAAAAAAAAAAME, BUT HE KNOWS

XYLOPHONE RIFF

THAT’S IT’S ALL HIS FAULT

XYLOPHONE RIFF

“i hate it when he gets like this. jimmy buffets not a good look for him.”

“for once you and i agree. seeing the commander sulk like this like a middle aged perma-tourist is genuinely miserable”

“hey homies! im back and i brought some bitches! oh, jesus, why does this place smell like mistakes in miami?”

“its me. im sorry. every time i feel like i failed as a dad, my anti-dad energies manifest. imagine every midlife crisis rolled up into a single ball, smacked into the face for eternity. thats the depth of my pain for failing this girl.”

In a moment of positivity, the friendship between Tsubasa and Hibiki is cemented.

> Tsubasa has joined the party.

“FRIENDSHIP!”

“fweindship.”

“uuuuhhhhh... dadship? yeah thats close enough.”

“WE’RE ALL GOOD FRIENDS!”

“ya tiddies are ringing again, better go get it”

Ryoko also points out that Hibiki’s relic is fusing with herself at an alarming rate. This is important to keep in mind.

Meanwhile, at night.

Miku is posing in the motherly “you done fucked up, where have you been young lady” position. A cold scolding is coming.

“.........................hey miku......”

“you can come in. are you worried im gonna bite? you suplexed a car. that shouldn’t be an issue anymore.”

“miku, i.... i wanted to tell you.... but.... the plot wouldn’t let me, miku....”

“should’ve told the plot to fuck off anyway. now you’re gonna live with that. you’re sleeping... on the bottom bunk.”

“b.... b..... b...... b.... b...... bottom bunk...?”

They slept separately that night. God, this is so stupid. All of this is so goddamned stupid. “I’m so mad at you even though you saved my life.” This is just so. AUGH. THIS IS DUMB. KANEKO WRITE BETTER ANGST THAT MAKES SENSE THAT ISN’T THIS.

Meanwhile, far away from this garbage...

Chris, having been evicted from Fine’s McMansion, wanders the streets of mumblemumble aimlessly. Don’t be fooled by her new fancy dress. Basically, she’s a combat-competent hobo.

“no food. no home. no victories. this sucks. whyd you do it, fine? we coulda been great together. but no. ya fired me. now i look like im prancing the red light district with a highly advanced superweapon around my neck.”

“no... hibiki’s to blame. ever since that genderbent little mac showed up to fight me, it’s been all downhill. fine thought me a laughstock because i couldnt take out her oversized boxing gloves, and now she beat me while i had nehushtan. god... i wish i never met that damn hamster faced chubby cheeked nerd.”

“wait, whats that crying”

Chris spies two kids talking to each other, one of them crying. Chris immediately makes an assumption, believing the big bro is bullying his sis.

“hey! stop nicking her lunch money, twerp”

Chris currently is a firm believer of corporeal punishment.

But the sister deflects the blow. Chris can’t even defeat children right now. Truly, this is a record low for her. You know you blew it when even kids are schooling you on basic morality. She then tells the little girl to stop crying, ironically mirroring her brother.

The infamous double T-Pose maneuver. Chris, you might as well get a shovel and start digging your own grave.

“i keep doing bad things badly, and now im doing good things badly... when fine said i was bad... did she just mean im not talented?”

Chris, finally, does a good thing and helps these kids find their parents.

“yeah. hibiki saved a kid when she got her gear. guess what? bam! im saving two! that’s fifty percent more kid per kid saved. take that, weirdo.”

The kids call her out on Chris singing unconsciously, and Chris gets flustered over it. Dawwwwww.

Chris manages to get them to safety to their Dad...

...while brutally lying about it, making Chris look like a predator. There’s a very crushing irony at play here, given who Chris used to serve.

“ugggggggggggggggghhhhhh hes not even gonna payyyyy meeeeeee why the fuck did i dooooo thiiiiiiissssss”

“hey, you know. you kids have a really nice relationship with one another. care to give me tips on how to be an empathetic human being capable of making friends?”

“maybe we’re born with it”

“maybe its maybeline”

“maybeline...”

Meanwhile...

A cold wind blows through Lydian Apartment 69-L. (I don’t actually know if that’s their room number, I just made it up.)

“jesus take the wheel, because i’m jumping out the passenger seat to save this current wreck of a relationship”

“miku please i saved your life, doesnt that count for anything”

“you already killed me the moment you lied. also im taking the bottom bunk so i dont have to see your face coming down the ladder.”

“miku you cant hide in this depression den forever. i know i hurt you and im sorry for it, but please understand i literally couldnt do it. you saw there were punches and violence and stuff... i didnt want you tied to that...”

“what was that? i cant hear your apologies over my incredibly loud snoring. SNOOOOOOORE. SNOOOOOOOORE. SNOOO- fuck, i just swallowed my spit, fuck”

“i hope this cocoon of displeasure you’ve made for yourself lets you erupt into a butterfly of acceptance so i can fly with you again.”

“......thats not fair. you cant say those beautiful metaphors and get away with it. let me be mad... sniff... let me be mad...”

Sadness wafts in the den of lies Hibiki has been forced into.

No music plays. There is only heartbreak, and woe.

In the midst of this pain...

Ryoko loredumps about how the Symphogears work and are immune to the noise on her blog, ‘hornyonmainforscience.org’, her hybrid science journal slash kink zone. It’s mostly a recap with some pretty good soft techno beats in it.

“i made a custom brew of red bull, five hour energy drink, coffee, and cream. i call it gamer girl piss.”

“damn. that’s some good piss.”

She muses about how Hibiki has managed to break the limitations of her Symphogear, making her a totally unique specimen. Wait, where have we heard this before...?

Hey... Ryoko... let’s just... cool it a bit with the Hibiki pictures... come on...

Ryoko touches upon the Custodians and the Curse of Babel. We ain’t touching that shit until later, because that’s another shitfuck box of crazy just ready to jump us in a dark alleyway to rob us of our wits.

Back to Lydian:

“miku whats the answer to the first three multiple choice questions”

“B. A. D.”

“oh, thanks. huh, BAD.”

“yeah. you are.”

“mmm. taste likes dissapointment. just like my life.”

“hey table for two haha get it cause there’s two chairs and miku for the love of god, please, forgive me”

“ive surgically removed my eyes and drew eyelashes over them with sharpie so i dont have to see your bird bangs.”

“thats very rude to both me and my hair. also, wig.”

Even Hibiki’s meal is judging her. Mainly for not eating it. Fucking look at this. God, that looks amazing. Fuck, why did I write this while I was hungry.

“miku you cant do this forever. i might die and youll end up crying on my tombstone going ‘oh god, why, oh god’, and really, i cant live with myself if that happens. mainly because id already be dead by then”

The Anime Janai crew show up to break some icebergs with a goddamn sledgehammer. As the self-aware Gods of this realm, they got very tired of this poor display of angst, and have decided to directly intervene.

Nevermind. They came for her kneecaps, and they most certainly got them.

PLEASE. I’M BEGGING YOU. END THIS GARBAGE PLOT THREAD.

“look. imma lay down the facts. yall are gay. yall are in love. yall are angry for the wrong reasons. its nobody’s fault here but the writer. so please kiss and make up. pretty please.”

“kaneko... you fool... we all know what the original sin is. its your hack writing making this stupidity in the first place. let the pencil go, asshole!”

They bring up the fact that Hibiki isn’t doing her work and wonder if she has a job on the side, which isn’t allowed by the school. Miku gets annoyed and bails, with Hibiki running after her. Unfortunately, Miku runs faster...

“oh god miku not the rooftop whatever you’re thinking just dont do it! please!”

“no. i came here to angst, since this is the Maximum Angst Zone.”

“i..... okay! okay, that’s fair! rooftops are the perfect place to look sad while getting proper air ventilation, thats fine”

It really would have been better played if it was played off that she felt hurt not because of the lie, but because she felt like she could have helped her better having known the truth, and it being a self-loathing sort of scenario for not being there better for her and not fully understanding the risk at play.

But no, instead, we get this.

Absolutely obliterated. A heart ripped, shredded, and sent to the Shadow Realm.

The episode ends on that note, but has a post credit scene.

Naked. On an old timey telephone. On a computer. Wearing stockings and long gloves.

The main antagonist of the series, everybody.

She’s talking the best English possible to some random-ass American when suddenly bursting through the scene is none other than:

“I WANT WORKERS COMPENSATION YOU BITCH, BEFORE I UNIONIZE YOUR NAKED ASS”

“AND I WANT A GOOD REFERNECE FOR MY FUTURE EMPLOYER, AND ALSO A SEVERANCE PACKAGE SINCE I’M FUCKING HOMELESS”

“i paint my eyelashes with mascara made from the tar of freshly carbonated corpses manufactured through noise, what on gods green earth compels you to think id give a rats ass about you?”

“so you never cared, huh! you’re just a nasty naked hedonist trying to- trying to- what the fuck are you even trying to do?!”

“i want to live the dream every spicy little fossil like me yearns for.”

“I WANNA FUCK GOD!”

“how- what? what? how do you even- what? are you- do you want to be the pope? is that it? does the pope get to fuck god? are you- is this a larping thing? you’ve really been into larping lately! i don’t like this!”

“youve never read the old testament, have you. ass out, pussy bare, hips up and barefoot. that’s how god’s always liked it.”

“now get lost, punk. you tipped off my hand to genjuro and now you being here is going to ruin everything. if you still feel any semblance of devotion, eat one of your own bullets and call it a day.”

“it’s 2012 bitch, if the mayans dont get you, I WILL”

“what god gives, He takes away, and so do i. i built you from the ground up. your relic, which was good for jack shit on you. the nehushtan, which you failed to do anything with except zap a couple hundred people. stop wars? you’re a walking war, waged by me, for me. and your cartridge has just run out of bullets.”

“uh oh! hand’s acting up again! better bail before i send you back to smacktown where all the bitter little shittalkers like you strut around spending their lives being useless as hell.”

“ah fuck, im not dealing with no manos: the hands of fate bullshit again”

“and guess what else i got on motherfucker”

“i see the union efforts have officially been busted. understandable, have a nice day ma’am”

“LEAVE.”

“I’M GOING, I’M GOING”

[theshapeshifter100]

A Magician’s Fight Part 2 (ASC6)

Well, I forgot yesterday, and nearly forgot today, let’s get this out! *Scans through the chapter* Oh jeez, now I remember.

So, WARNING before anything else. I get dark in this chapter. There is no actual story progression, just a catch up with where the other egos are. They’re with Anti, what exactly are you expecting?

Summary:Everyone around Jackieboy Man had gone missing, taken by Anti. Except Marvin. But, he’s a magician, not a hero, what was he going to do about all this? Run, that’s what he was going to do

Word Count: 2,028

Chapter warnings (official)- blood, being shot, alludes to medical torture, psychological torture, mind control. Basically I let out my inner sadist. Also some foul language

Angus stirred, wincing as his head began to pound. What the hell had he eaten? He was familiar enough with flora to not have eaten anything dodgy, did he misjudge? Or did he hit his head on something?

He winced again as pain flared up in a more specific place and reached up to touch his head, except, his arms weren’t moving.

He finally opened his eyes to see what the problem was, and quickly shut them again as light pierced them. He grunted in pain and forced them open, blinking rapidly as he assessed the situation.

He was tied to chair in the middle of a bare cement room, a single bare bulb dangling above and just in front of him. The room itself wasn’t big, and twisting his head round, he could just make out a door from the corner of his eye.

He pulled hard against the restraints, muscles straining, but quickly found that he was probably just going to exhaust himself. Thick heavy rope held him to the chair, hands tied together and behind the back of the chair, with more rope to secure his chest and shoulders. Finally his legs were tied together and pulled underneath the chair, so his feet couldn’t touch the floor.

He tried rocking it, and found that the chair was firmly bolted to the floor, so no go there.

“’ello?!” he called out, no other option available. “Anyone there?!”

When he got no response he cast his mind back, trying to remember what happened. He’d been with Chase, the pair of them had skedaddled once he’d gotten Jay’s call, used a pre paid old brick phone to let him know that they were okay before destroying it, and settled down in the cave.

He remembered how at ease he was, being back outside again. Six months stuck in one place more or less inside had nearly driven him mad! He hadn’t been able to stop yammering at Chase in his excitement about anything and everything he saw.

Refocusing, he remembered that it had been night, he’d gotten a small fire going, which Chase had been sitting around while Angus explored, and generally basked in nature. He’d just come back, asked if Chase was okay, and froze. As Chase’s eyes had been glowing green.

Chase, oh dear God, Chase had knocked him out. Scrawny, scrappy little Chase had whacked him over the head with a rock, all with a blank expression and his eyes glowing green.

“Oh Chase,” Angus groaned, lowering his head. He’d been supposed to protect him; that was sole reason he’d stuck around in this miserable, shithole of a country, in the middle of a city of all places! Him! In a city centre! Six, seven months ago he’d have told you were mad! And yet, he’d been there to support and protect his little brother, and he had failed.

There was a click and a slow creak behind him, and Angus struggled to turn his head properly to see, but whoever walked in remained just out of his sight until they reached his side.

“Chase!” Angus initially cried in relief as his youngest brother walked in front of him and stopped. “Oh thank God! Can ya get me outta here? We gotta go...” Angus trailed off as he got a proper look at Chase.

Green, almost holographic like light appeared to wrap around the various important parts of his boy, wrists, ankles, torso and neck, like puppet strings. Chase was looking straight at him, face blank, but eyes screaming, tears dripping down his expressionless face.

Most worrying was the gun in his hand. Not the plastic, foam dart firing kind of guns he used for his trick shot videos. This gun was small and metal, a real gun, and Angus was willing to bet it was loaded.

“Chase, mate, bro, can ya hear me?” Angus began to plead. “C’mon mate, put the gun down. Ya know better than that.”

Wordlessly Chase raised the gun, and shot Angus just above the kneecap.

Angus couldn’t help but scream, both from the thunderclap in his ears as the gunshot noise echoed and ricocheted around the bare room, and the searing pain in his leg.

He swallowed it as best as he could, gasping in pain as blood began to pour from the wound, dripping on to the floor. His ears rang like crazy, but he still stared at his brother, who stared back at him.

The green light disappeared from around his neck, and Chase’s expression twisted in horror and he audibly sobbed.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry Angus. I didn’t want, Oh God!” Chase watched as his hand moved beyond his control. “I swear this isn’t me! I’d never-! I’m sorry!” Chase was crying uncontrollably as he took aim at Angus’s other leg.

Angus could only just about hear him over the ringing in his ears, but tried to do his brotherly duty.

“Hey, I know, it’s gonna be okay,” Angus tried to grin, but Chase shot him in the other leg and he howled. Somehow the pain was so much worse the second time. Through the ringing in his ears, he thought he might have heard high pitched giggling.

 Schneep shot awake in pitch darkness, the events of what had occurred coming back to him very quickly. He’d gone back to his apartment after picking up some supplies for Robbie, and the power had been out. He was pretty sure he wasn’t behind on his bill, so proceeded with caution.

Robbie wasn’t in the apartment, which also made Schneep worry, although Jackieboy Man was pretty good at bringing him back and keeping him out of trouble. He had made his way to the office, and that’s where things had gotten confusing.

He’d heard familiar giggling, so had tried to arm himself with what he had. Scalpels, his bone saw, but none of that had done anything.

In the end, he was pretty sure he had been sucked in to his computer, but that made no sense, that sort of thing wasn’t possible!

Said the man whose closest person to a best friend was a magician and looked after a zombie every other week. Maybe he wasn’t the best judge of what was possible and what wasn’t.

He tried to get up to get an idea of where he was, but found he was stuck lying down. A bit of wiggling told him that he was strapped down at the ankles, wrists, torso and even head.

“Vhat ze hell?” he muttered to himself, wiggling and struggling even more as panic started to brew. He then let out involuntary yelp as the lights came on, blinding him for a second or so.

Once he had recovered, all that he could really tell that the lights were strip lighting and that the ceiling was dull white.

He heard footsteps and cast his eyes around as best he could, but immediately stopped trying to struggle as Jackieboy Man came into view.

His mask was hanging down around his neck and his hood was back, revealing the blank, hopeless expression on his face. It was a little difficult to see small details, but if Schneep squinted, he could see the same green lights that had been around Chase all those months ago.

Even more worrying, was the crust of dried blood forming a thin line of Jay’s throat.

“Jay,” Schneep’s throat was dry, so his voice came out a little croaky. “You have to listen. You are a hero! You can fight zis! Zis isn’t you Jay.”

Whether Jay heard him or not didn’t seem to make any difference, as Jay raised his hand, revealing a familiar looking scalpel. Schneep liked to have his initials on his tools, and he called see the letters ‘HS’ carved into the handle.

Okay, scalpel, not so bad. The blade was pretty fragile, so it would only be small injuries, if that were to occur.

Jay then put the scalpel down, and straining his eyes, Schneep could see that he had put on a small table littered with other items that could be used in surgery. Such as a cauterizer, bone saw, a large collection of scalpel blades and stitching supplies. Also on the table a series of large kitchen knives, and Jay’s hand lingered over them, causing Schneep’s stomach to twist into knots.

“Jay, come on now. Let us talk about zis,” Scheep swallowed as Jay picked up one of the larger knives.

“J͉̳̫̠̱̞̖͈̿͊̑͊̂͟͞ͅa̧̡̛͔̫̣̻͓̩̅̓̃̇̀͜ỳ̷̨̫̱̟̮͔͔̗̭̽͛̆̽̾̉̏̚͠’̨͕̭̱̖̣͚̔͊̆̈́̕͞s̡̧̱̝̫̻͎͈͆̉͊́̀͘͜ n̸̡̨͔̜̣͖̥̪͊̎͂̽̈́̓͡͠͠ͅō̹̟͙̼̪̳̽͒̌̌t̡̩͍͓̞̗̳̳̯̅͆͌̽̋ i̯̖̞͇̰͌͌͒̊̅̕n̸̘͕̹̻̻̬̳̦̾̓̀̌͑́̕͘͘͜͢͞ a̜͔̠͇̱̮̰̼̖̓̔̊͊̇̋͒͂͠͡t̬̦̙̗͉͒̏͌͂͠ t̸̢̢̡̳͚̻̖̫̲̲̎̎̊̆̒h̥̳̬̥̬͎͇̠͉̀̉̽̂̄̋̅͠è̛̻̣̪̩͙̬̰͊͒̎̽͗͑͗ m̸̟̹̟͍̪̮͈̲̎̿͐̓̈́ͅo̵̢̺͍̭̭̙͖͇̤͗̉̈͒̒͋ͅm̬̲̜̬̫̥̤̳̻͗̀̉̿̉̇͟͝e̦̜̭͓͔͓͓̋̈́͂͑͆͠n̗̭͉͚͉͉͕͕͂̒̌͐͘t̷̢͇̘̹͎͔̦͙͐̌̌̎͘̕̕,̴̜̙̻̝̰͎̺͉͈̪̈͋̅͗̽͡͞ p̢̛̛̦͖͇̜̦̍͌̌̈́ͅļ͙̗̣̲̋̓̐̑̈́̕e̶͍̹̪͎̳̻̱͉̓͐̕͘͠a̧̺̦̭̲͎̝͎̋̈͒̒̔̕͞s̻̪͒̇̾͗́͂ͅ��͙̪̦̙̱ȩ̵̦̳͙͉̪̭̺̀̽̈́̌͂́͑͘͢͠ ţ̗̩͖̫̺̜͔̣͒͆̌̌̃̚͘͞r̴̢̨̛̼͉̖̘̎͑̑̈̂̕ͅy̥̠͙̲͉̼͑̽̈̈́͋ ȧ̫̱̻̩̖̎̃̂̊͛͒͘͜͝g̢̠̦͈͕̙̭̦̿͌̈́̀̓̈́̚͘̕à̷̫̺̘̙̯̤͙̓͗̏́̄̓̓͜͡i͍͔͇̼̝̣̊̌̈́͂͌̍́͢ń̶̙̲͎͈̦͙͍̖̪͍̄͌̌̒ l̵̩̜͚̖͕̻̪̘̍͑̎͐̒̐̀̈̈͠ą̸̦̗̭̜̜̣̍͛͌̿͝t͓̗̬͖͍̬͔̹̱͂̏̈́̇͡e̴̢̜͓̦̠͔͍̱͌̀̆̓̀̓͌͘r͓̺̮̠̐͗͋̇̇̎̉͜͡.”

Scheep shuddered, he’d heard that voice before, and while thankfully it wasn’t coming from Jay, the presence of the voice was hardly comforting.

“Anti you bastard!” Scheep roared, latching onto anger to try and dispel fear. “Show yourself so I can kill you!”

“Ţ̧̭̰̣̪̊̾̓̈́͘̕͠͝ẻ̶͚͚̼̩͇̉̄̒̓͡m͍̖̪̝̙̜̆͂̆̂̀̈́̀̈́͞ͅp̥͉̭͉͚̺̙̮͙̄̊̿̽̚͜͞t̨̪̺̙̘̖̻͚̊́́̀͒͊̆̌͢͢͞͠i̢̭̟̳̐̅̀̉͛͗͟ǹ͙̜̲̖̣͙̲̍̑̀͝͠ģ̦̠͇͎̭͚͎́̀̋̇͗̽͊̑̒̀,” Anti’s disembodied voice giggled, “b̶̲̯̙̫̻̮̏͊͋̀̋͡͝ͅu̧͚̘͊͂̒͐͗͛̓̿͜͟͢͞t̨̛̟̗͕̤̻̭͇̙̀̌̓̇̉̾͑̈́͠ Ī̵̛̯͙͙̣̳͗̇͗͟͠ t̰͉̭͔̣͙̯́͂̌͐͆̂͢͞h̸͓̮̝̘̣͉̓͌̉̎͐͢͢͡͡͞ͅi̛̫̲̳̹͖̲͕͐̋̋̄̆n̛̩͍̫̪̹͕͔͇̺̪͋̊̽͞ḳ̨̡͓̯́́͒͂̈̄̅̓̌͘ͅͅ I̴̱̗̣̼͐́͌̏̒̈́͢’̸̖̣̻̝̠̣̰͚͂̑́͐͝l̷̝̮̱̖̖͓̈̊͂̊͌͡l̴̡̢̨̛̰͙̻̩̣̎̄͐́̉̓͜͡͠ ḻ̡̜̮̼̥͉̔͒̿͂̉̉͟͞ẹ̴̛͙͔̜̪̠͎̩͕̠̄̈̆̊̉̾͡͡͡ẩ̹͉̱̠̜͖̜̒͗̾̄̈͘̚͘v̸̡̼̙͓̩̣̾̄̽̆̋͂̋͒e̴̡̯͇̦͔͆̋̐̄̇̀͜͡ y̵̗̬̘̹̩̟͔̮͛͛͛͊̄̍͋͟͢o̠͓̯͈͇͉̫̅͋̈́̇̾ǜ̸̡̞̝͙̤̠̥̩͑̆̓́̾͊̕ î̤̮̼̹̜̹͐̒̓͊̉̕͞n̷̨̪̺̥̺͇̮͇̈́̔́̀́̌͗͐̚ ţ̸̳̜͔̟̬̳̤͎̃̃̀͗̆͠͠h̸̡̧͕̲̘͈̼͂̊̔͌̓͡ê̷̘̤̖͈̑̂́͟͜͠ h̘̹͖̗͓̮͗̄̈́́́̈̐͢͠ė̺͔̱̫͔͌̉̅͝r̵͙̹͎͕̹̳̪̣͎͓̒̂̎̾͒̓̈͊̀ǒ͙̥͓̺͕͎͛̀̋̌͘’̶̗̪̜͈͕̖͙̏̿͛͊͊̀͜͢ͅś̷̡͍͔͉̟̎̑̈́̃̊̿͘ c̷̞̤̟̩̞̹͙̺̈́͆̌͐̍͘̕͟ả̧̱̠͓̳̤͈͈͓̾̍̌̊̈͠p̛̻̫͉͍̱͈͉̺͗͛̿̂̓̓͒à̷̢̙̪̺͕̒͑̀͢͠ͅb͍̱̞̌̈́̒̓̀̒͟͡ͅl̢̟̱̝̖̬͑̈̆̽͌͂̊̐̀͟͟ͅe̡̩̮͙̥̼̙̘͂̄̽̅͂̈́̍̏́͜ͅ h̪̪͍̦̺͓͖̣̅͂̋̓͌̽à̴̳̹͍̯̥̅̃͞͝n̲͉̥̭̗͙̭̯̱͆͑̇̈̔̊̒͗͝ͅd̷̛͚̗̗͕̮̈̆́͗͊͡͞s̵̨̺̘̻̬̖̓̀̓͒͗̇̏,” another giggle.

“Ď̢̬͍͖͇̱̫̳̠̋͗́̍͌̈́̚͝i̶̹̝̝͚͎̍̿̑͘͞d̡͇̥̼̺͚̔̿́̓̂́͋̿̑͟ ỹ̸͕̭͖̪̬̾́̿̐̾̑̕͘͟͜ơ̴̢̜̯̘̥̍̑̈́̈́̓̋͠ṷ̖̗̩̲̳̟̹̬͛̊̈́̀͒̐̇̓̏ͅ ḱ̢̙̻͕̭̘̈́͒͑̆̂͘̚͡͠ṉ̡͓̗̟͔̫̠̄͋́͐͗́͜͞ơ̪͚̖͓̞̦̻̞͐̐͝͡ẃ̵̨̘͉͚͍͈̗̅̊̇̔͛̓͘ͅͅ,̶̛̛̥̞̜̜̣͑͐̉̊̄͘͢ ḥ̦̳̻̥̽̽̓͒̚͞e͇̹̯͎͔͍͋͂̀̅͑́͊̚ ḡ̢̲̩̹̱̩̹̽̏͋̏͊́͌͂͟ͅa̛̮̦̪̬̫̅̃̃̐̉͆́̓v̛̰̮̞͎̙̭̜͇̀̄͛͋e̡̺̞̳̭͉͌͒́̽̒̎͘͡ h̞̫͇̼̞̩̣̻͍̮̔̐̏̇̒͘ḯ̳͓͈͚̀̾͂̑̍̾̚͜m̥̼̻͍̗͂̇̓̃̀͜͞͝s̵̢̨͕̝͕͙̱̐̂̆̆͑͢ẻ̹̮͓̣͎̓̅͊̒͒͞l̛̯͍͓̳̠͕̙͙̉̇̐͛̀͂͘͘͝f̶̧͙͖̪̫͍͙͙̱̣̀̈͋͂̋̑̿̑͂̚ ů͚̗̠͕͉͚͂̆̌̈́̋̿̾͢ͅp̷̨̨̦̫̪̪̓̀̔̒̓͜ f͍̲͕͎͚͇̘̘̓̅͆̎͋̅͆͟͞͠͠ǫ̭͖̬͙̗̑͛̒̐͆̿̚̚͜r̴̨̺͈̗͉̳̓̔͑̈́́̏͊̐͊̚͟͢ y̧̛̭̘̲̱̹̥̻̌́̒̊͢ờ̡̨͉̩͔̊̇̎̾͐̀̂̚u͍̜̰̅́̐͗̒͌̌̕͟͜͞͡?̷̛͉͚̱̠̣͙́̑̃̉͜ͅ F̡̝̞̘̣̼̫̞̠̍͋͊̐͂ͅa̢͙̣̼̘͓͈̤̋͑͂͌̇͗̿̉͠ţ̵̧̲̠͙͓̗͈͗́̓̾̕͡͡ͅͅ l̵̨̛͍͙͓̟̺̀͐̄̈͒̄͐͜ơ̗̞͓̼̥͉͈͈̞̯͂͗͋͑͘̕̚̕͠t̯̞͉̲̬̩̻̅̀̐̍͑̿̅̀͋͡ o̵̡̱̬̙͎͖͎̱̥͐̽͂̔́ͅf̡̨̡̰͓̝̻̠̺̻̀̀͊̿̅͆̚̚ ģ̷͙̪̬̲̰̭̈̓͋̍̚͞ǒ̩̙͍͙̦̻̾̓̇͘͢ͅô͍̭̠̪̽́̔͛͑̍͗͆͢ͅd̸͈̼̩̘̖̍̄̐͌̆̆͢ t͔͚͖̼̣̞̼̒̍̆͌̈́̄͗͛̆͝ḩ̵͕̤̫̹̓͆͌͆̍̚ă̷̢̘̟̈́̍̍̍̃̾͌͌̚͢͢t̴͔̲̩̗̒̈́̿̅̇́̀͜͝ d̵̨̰̙̭̦̮̥̺̯̺̅̈͌̈͆̈͘͡i̶̢̱̟̞̺͍̺͛̈́̊̀̿̆̑͘̚͢͝d̷̢̖͕̮̗̊̌̅̉̀̿̂͐̕͠ͅͅ ḧ̠̥͙̦͎̦̲̰͍̠́̋̾̐͌̈̑̄̒͠i̢̫̖͎͇͖̫͈̬̓́̾̃̄̿͋ṁ̛̛͎̜̝͙̫̠̥̏̑̾̒͟!͎̰̥͈͂̈́͗̏̔̃̔͋̓̚͟”

Anti laughed once more, but didn’t speak again, making it clear that to two were alone.

“Jay, Jay vhy?” Scheep asked as the controlled Jay considered the knives, before laughing humourlessly. “You alvays vere such a hero, veren’t you?”

His dry laugh turned to sobs for fear without any say from his conscious brain, as Jay lifted up his knife of choice, and plunged it into Schneep’s hand.

 Robbie didn’t know how long he’d been here, time always passed weirdly for him. However, being trapped, alone in the dark like this, reminded him of being dead all over again.

He tried to keep it together, it wasn’t like there was anyone else here to help him. The green man had probably gotten Henrik and Marvin by now.

He let out an upset groan. He just wanted to go home! He didn’t want to be stuck in a cage in the dark!

Almost as if something had heard him, the lights flickered on. He could feel the light attacking his eyeballs, but it didn’t particularly hurt.

He shifted position, feeling a little better now that he could actually see. The cage was really rather small, with him huddled in a corner he still took up 90% of it. He relaxed and tried to sit normally, ducking his head so he didn’t hit on the ceiling.

He picked up the sound of footsteps, and had to hold his jaw when it dropped so it wouldn’t actually drop off.

There was something incredibly familiar about the figure in front of him. Some things weren’t familiar, the way he stood, the blank expression, the near dead look in his eyes. But that hat, that face, those clothes... They all rang a bell.

It happened sometimes, which was usually why he went wandering. Sometimes his brain suddenly remembered or recognised something from before he died, but the feeling usually faded.

Robbie squinted at the figure, it did look similar to Jackieboy Man, but he’d never seen him wearing a bowler hat before.

A name, a name was trying to push its way to the front, a letter. J, JJ. James...

Robbie blinked sluggishly as he finally recognised who was standing in front of him. Jameson Jackson, they used to, talk, they were friends. What else? What happened after that?

The past was slipping again, but the name remained, as well as the feeling of familiarity. Jameson just looked blankly at Robbie, not even a flicker of recognition in his eyes.

Robbie tried to say his name, but only managed to get out stammering of the letter ‘J’.

Jameson jerkily walked away, moving very much like how a puppet would, and Robbie started to get agitated. He grunted and grabbed the bars of his cage, desperately trying to say Jameson’s name, but only the letter ‘J’ really making it out.

The lights went out and Robbie howled in distress at being left in the dark again. His breathing rattled in his overworked lungs as he let out dry sobs, tear ducts no longer working properly. In his primal panic he forgot all about Jameson, and high pitched giggling barely registered.

A/N Okay, I guess a little bit of a subplot? It occurred to me that Robbie is a zombie (duh) and therefore would have existed in another time, JJ is also a man from the past, what if they knew each other?

This was also going to be a part of the last chapter, but together they came to nearly 3,000 words, which I think is a little long for a single chapter. Even though there will probably be a chapter that long at some point

[nighttimelights-prompted]

UF!Sans x reader arguing because Red has feelings towards the reader, but refuses to act out on it because he's afraid that he'll ruin/taint them, therefore trying to distance himself from the reader (who he was once close with), although the reader doesn't know why Red's pushing them away, therefore starting an argument. (I'm really sorry if there's anything about this that doesn't make sense, I worded it oddly)

(not to worry, i think it made perfect sense! though i suppose we’ll see if i interpreted the way you meant it. i’ve also got a couple more prompts in my inbox now, so thank you so much for those sweet people who sent in something! still open and accepting prompts and imagines, so let me know if you’d like something, ya cuties.)

(… and i suppose i would be remiss if i didn’t give a head’s up: prepare for at least a few feelings ahead. though perhaps someone would like to send in a follow up prompt with a way to continue/wrap this~?)

The low revving of your motorcycle was a purr compared to the gutteral roar that Red’s always held, but you still felt the blow of its noise in its loss when you cut off the engine.

Even when you tugged off your helmet, shaking your hair free quickly as you scanned the line of the rooftop above, the silence suffocated you. It was wrong, and every fiber of your being felt it; even in the dead of night, if you were here, your motorcycle parked alongside Red’s as it was now, the hilltop should be ringing with his brash, low laughter, curving around your own until the tears pooled at the corners of your eyes.

Heat prickled wetness at the corners now, but you blinked them away harshly as you caught sight of the bulky silhouette on a distant corner of the rooftop. You slung your leg over and dismounted, leaving your helmet propped on your bike. No one would steal it - there wasn’t another soul around for miles.

It was the quick work of minutes to find your way to the roof access ladder, grappling the side of it for the first 10 feet where the rungs were blocked by a locked safety panel. Your leather gloves gripped the edge of the building as you hauled yourself over, boot meeting concrete edging with the same confidence and anger you hoped you could hold up until he could get an earful from you.

Or a skull-full, you guessed.

It was naturally the opposite side of the building he was standing at. The bastard would’ve heard you coming for a mile, could’ve left if he wanted, but damn if he wasn’t still going to be just that much farther. You vaulted over the varying heights of the roof, easily avoiding the enormous dome of glass that sat over the gazing room. You let your anger fuel you, trying to focus on those roiling feelings and not the way you could feel your phone burning awareness in your mind from deep in your pocket, smoking figuratively with the echoing shots of your cracking heart.

“OY, RED!”

That’s it, let the anger keep your voice steady-

“WHO THE FUCK DO YOU THINK YOU ARE?”

You were almost on him now, the gentle light of the half-moon and stars silhouetting him and the roof in washed-out tones. The absurd fluff of his hood was spiked around his skull, his hands tucked into his pockets. The jacket actually looked… zipped up, for once. A small line of smoke drifted upwards from the line of fur.

“WHO- Wh-who do you think you are, sending me a goddamn text like that?” You reached his side at last, but quickly looked down to try and grasp at the anger draining out of you. “What kind of asshole leaves a text like that - ‘don’t bother textin me again, i’m done with this’? Out of fucking nowhere?” You resisted the urge to stomp your foot, but just barely. Instead you quickly grabbed at your phone, the leather of your gloves catching on your tight pocket for just a moment. You didn’t even bother unlocking it, but waved it towards him for extra effect. “You gonna give me some kinda explanation, or what?”

Sure, try and reason, that may hold back the prickling feeling in your chest. Your fingers gripped a little tighter at your phone as you waited for something from him.

You got a shrug.

“The fuck,” you said.

You got another shrug. The fluff seemed to stay a little higher this time at the end of the motion. Or was his head a little lower?

You bit down your inclination to swear again. “Red, c’mon man, give me something. If I did fuck up, fine, but I can’t figure it out or make it right on my own. Or is something going down? Why’re you pushing me away, after all the shit we’ve stuck through together?” Your voice cracked. Your mouth twisted in a grimace, but you didn’t try to restate it.

The twisting in your chest was only worsening with his silence.

It was a quick gambit you ran through some dark labyrinth in your mind in the next few moments. That stark first memory hit you - coming across him beat to hell and back in that alleyway almost a year ago, cornered by a handful of supremacist asswipes wielding knives and spiked bats, waving what you immediately recognized as a “Anti-Magic Security Affective Field of Energy” - AMSAFE, the shit had been named - and drawing closer, one of them raising their bat above their head. Red had wiped a line of glowing red liquid from his mouth and stood a little taller, and had grunted out a goddamned pun - “guess ‘m up to bat, huh?” - before you had slammed a stray pipe into the side of the bat wielder’s kneecaps. The chaos that had ensued ended with you slinging Red’s arm over your shoulders and hauling him to his favorite bar despite your judgement, the alley behind you echoing with “i’d offer to lend ya a hand, doll, but ya’ve got my whole arm already.” Fast forward to the next week, finding him in another alleyway, surrounded by a bigger group - then another week, again, before the next day you tracked him down through his flaming friend of a bartender and tried to get some answers. None of which you got, of course, but it ended in you getting his number, and vice versa - soon you were getting him human intel on the supremacists no monster could easily come across, which eventually spun into late nights spent trading jokes and stories, then meeting his terrifying and hilariously secret-sweet edgelord of a brother, then getting looped into movie nights with his handful of friends, and races under the rising moon through the hillside, and slow but growing insights into the hell they had all been through Underground as you leaned against his side, both your legs dangling off this very building, smoke drifting lazily between you-

“Give me… give me something, Red,” you said quietly, your voice strained.

He remained quiet and still for a few more moments, before shrugging again and twisting just a little further away from you.

“meant what i said, that’s fuckin’ all.”

You snapped.

In a blink, your hands were fisted in the fur of his coat. Your mind registered the plastic clatter of your phone striking the rooftop as you stepped to get in front of him.

“That’s fucking bullshit!”

Heat spiked at the corners of your eyes, but you ignored it.

He was taller than you by at least a few inches, something that normally made you feel a strange kind of safe and comforted, but right now it was just pissing you off as you tried to drag him down to no avail. “You’ve been acting weird for a few days now, and all I goddamn did earlier was send you a message asking if you wanted me to grab you a burger from Grillbz - and then, then you send me that-! After nothing, no signs! Hell, we just hung out this past goddamn weekend-!” Your face was already red, but you weren’t sure if you would’ve flushed further or drawn up tears faster if you lingered on the memory, on the way you had woken up on his couch, your head resting in his lap with one of his hands tangled gently in your hair, having slumped over at some point while watching Edge’s robot friend on TV. You refused to linger there though - no, your words were furious, but you were worried, the moment striking harsh and cold in contrast to your burning eyes, your reddened skin.

Not that you didn’t want to shake sense into him regardless of your concern, but if he would just explain, maybe you could knock that bit of sense into him and then end up laughing this off-

“finally got some time to think, that’s all. really was a bonehead to not acknowledge it sooner. we’re just different, too different.” His words were gravelly and plain. A clove cigarette, the same kind he had switched to some six months ago, hung from his teeth. The smell was almost nostalgic; coupled with the setting and the way his hood caught the distant light of the night sky, it dropped stones into your gut as you better caught his expression.

The twist to his mouth wasn’t the usual cocky smirk you had come to love more than you’d ever admitted. No, there was a wry sneer pulling his mouth to the side, just barely there.

It stabbed through you harder than his words.

“we had some alright times, i guess. but i’m done with it. done with ya gettin’ into tr- into knowing monsters an’ shit, shit that ain’t ever gonna work out. ain’t worth losin’ my head over.”

You finally registered the dead, dull light to his normally shining eyelights. Rather than a bright crimson, they were dimmed to a cruel crimson. Your grip slackened, but you refused to let go yet.

“Red, you’re - you’re full of shit. More than usual. Seriously, what the fuck is going on?” You tilted your head just slightly, your fists managing to grip a little again. Your brows had drawn down, and you swallowed to push away the rawness building in you.

One of his hands, broad and boney, swept upwards and brushed one of your arms away with frustrating ease. “i don’t wanna keep repeatin’ myself, here.” He closed his eyes and turned from you, wresting your other hand free as he pocketed his once more.

“I can protect myself, if that’s what you’re worried about,” you said, your voice scratching as the anger bubbled desperately in you.

He made a strange sound - you couldn’t quite see his face, and you couldn’t find the way to move your feet to get in front of him again. “yeah, sure. ya sure proved it.”

“... I know you’re better than this.”

The sound this time was a scoff, clear but for the muffle of his hood. “like i said, too different. ya won’t - wouldn’t understand.”

Your hands balled into fists at your side. Your cheeks chilled with a breeze that passed by, the line of tears running down them drying cold and tight.

“Yeah, I won’t lie. I don’t understand this, Red. I thought I got you, and I thought you got me… and y’know?” You laughed, once, short, choked. “I still think I do. So yeah, alright.”

You turned on your heel, the moonlight a gentle glow on one half of your face.

“We’re done, then, I guess.”

You didn’t wait for another response as you strode back across the rooftop.

Your motorcycle was alone in the parking lot by the time you reached it.

(... well, i warned you.)

(... anybody want me to continue this one? i might do a part two, leave me an ask if you’ve got something in mind or just a desire to find out what happens