#kitnkas

[seaswalllow]

It's been a fricken while since I've thought about that Mer!au you had, but I was drifting off to sleep and I saw a fake Tumblr post in my mind for like 2 seconds. It was an ascii art style piece but also colorized, and it was the back of Mer!Dark's head in the lower right of the frame, just a shot from the neck up like he was looking away. The rest of the frame was underwater. And in different spots around the art, there were ascii bubbles moving around because it was also a gif. I have no idea why this came into my mind but it was so vivid that it woke me up.

Also, if it wasn't you that had the au, this is awkward and you can ignore this, lol ^_^ Hope you're having a nice day.

Oh, wow! So I did have a mer!au, but it focused on the JSEgos and that was way, way back for those who remember the era of kitnkas, haha! I was vaguely considering adding the Mark egos, but-- well, life got in the way.

That sounds like a super interesting art piece, though! ASCII is a very interesting medium to work with, haha

Hope you're having a nice day too, anon!

[beerecordings]

"Start with the youngest", with Anti n JBM? :D

Yesss I saw this list n I was like oh I KNOW somebody gonna send that one in and then the two of you had me covered hahaha. Love you both and hope you enjoy! REALLY loved writing this one, got pretty swept up in it.

Warnings for hospitalization, intubation, and mentions of torture and blood.

Edit: okay @a-single-green-eyeball made an amazing piece that takes some inspo from this little fic! you should totally check it out here, it’s wicked

He sits with his knees drawn to his chest, his fingers digging into his calves.

Tick, tick, tick, counts the clock on the wall.

Gritted teeth grind against each other in his mouth.

Tick, tick, tick, counts the clock on the –

“Fuck, shut the hell up!” Jackie turns to snarl at it, reaching up to tear at his hair. “He’s trying to sleep, you stupid hunk of plastic!”

Tick, tick, tick, tick, tick, tick, tick.

Alright, that’s fucking it. Jumping to his feet, Jackie shoves his shitty plastic hospital chair away, leaps across the shitty plastic hospital floor, and snatches the shitty plastic hospital clock off the wall. Distress and sensation crash so heavily across his mind that he feels like he is not thinking at all, and then, before he can summon the energy to care, he is smashing the face of the clock into the shadowed midnight windowsill, striking again and again and again, until what was once a clock is now shards clutched too tightly between his fingers.

For a moment, silence.

Beep, sighs Jameson’s heart monitor. Beep. Beep.

Cars rush by stories below. The lights buzz out a pretend hive mind, harsh and groaning in the ceiling. Heels click on the linoleum floors. Faraway is the swish of a train, distant and dissipating, foam on an unreachable ocean. Two rooms away someone is crying.

“Jackie,” comes a voice, a low warmth in the midst of so much cold noise.

He turns and moves, rounding Jameson’s bed once more. His eyes are wild, he knows. His hair is a mess and there is blood at the nape of his neck and his panic and rage are tangible, olfactory, gustatory, he knows. He shouldn’t be here. He knows.

Chase stands in the doorway, watching him. His eyes are red too. He’s been crying already. Probably since the second he heard about the attack, he’s been crying. He is smaller than Jackie and easier to tears. Jackie cannot bear to see him in pain.

His little brother.

“Jackie,” says Chase again.

Jackie slumps back into his chair and pulls his knees to his chest, chewing on his nails, rocking, waiting, watching his baby brother sleep.

Chase sighs in the doorway.

“They told me they couldn’t get you to leave,” he says, with a step forward. Jackie turns to glare at his feet, gnawing at the end of his thumb. “Apparently you nearly punched the nurse who tried to drag you away. And now you’re not letting anyone get close to him.”

“I’m not leaving,” Jackie snaps, before Chase can work himself into a full-blown lecture.

There’s a long moment of noise, absent Chase’s voice.

“Can I come in?” he asks finally.

Jackie growls low in his throat, his eyes on Jamie.

Sleeping so, so soundly. He’s so white under the mean little fluorescent lights. He’s so small with that strip of plastic inside his mouth, breathing too heavily at the air that it gives him.

“It’s me, man,” Chase soothes, taking another step in.

“Prove it,” Jackie hisses, whirling on him. “I don’t know that. I don’t know it’s you.”

Chase sighs again. Jackie grinds his teeth and shakes out his hands, chock-full of pent-up rage with nowhere to go.

And Chase steps forward, gentle, and takes Jackie in his arms before he can protest, wrapping him up and squeezing him tight, tight, tight, rubbing his shoulders and setting his chin firmly on top of Jackie’s head, until, at last –

Jackie bursts into tears, rocking against Chase’s chest.

“It’s my fault!” he howls. “This is is my fault.”

“It’s not your fault,” Chase answers. He spares a hand to reach out and clutch Jamie’s, but their little brother does not answer, does not wake, does not stir, not for a moment, for a second, for a single sliver of broken time.

“Let’s start with the eldest,” Anti purred.

He trailed his knife down Jackie’s throat. Blood bloomed obediently at the surface of the white flesh.

“Fuck you,” said Jackie, grinning wicked.

Cement walls buried deep in the earth made Anti’s hide-out silent as a corpse, dark as legs torn off of crickets. “Always so proud,” chirruped Anti, straightening his blade against Jackie’s collarbone. “I enjoy that.”

“Yeah? Enjoy this.”

Jackie rammed his knee towards Anti’s stomach, but the glitch disappeared in a wash of shadow, reappearing, a black haze, at Jackie’s side. For just a second, his darkness blocked out Jameson, chained up at Jackie’s side, but then Anti moved again and Jackie could see his little brother, and all was well.

He tried to smile at Jamie. Jamie stared back, eyes large.

Eyes angry.

“Nice try,” Anti sang, flipping the knife around in his hands. Jackie doesn’t even bother to watch it. He was tired of silver in the darkness, and met Anti’s eyes instead. He was proud, yes, proud to suffer for Jameson’s sake. Proud to do anything, anything, whatever it took to spare his littlest brother a single second of hurt.

Anti dragged the knife across his cheek.

Jackie gasped and swore and laughed, loud, at the warm blood sliding down his face. “Best you can do, Anti? You’ll have to try a little harder, you corrupted excuse for a functioning program. We both know that I – ”

Jackie cut off, startled by a stunning sensation in his face. Anti drew back, equally surprised.

Jackie’s face healed.

And Anti turned his gaze to Jameson, who stared right back, his eyes glowing a vibrant silver in the shadows. Silent with his hands chained. Watching with hatred in his fierce youth’s eyes.

“Oh, darling,” Anti murmured.

Moving away from Jackie. Moving towards Jameson.

“No,” Jackie snapped, trying, not for the first or second or hundredth time, to pull his chains out of the wall.

“So you don’t need your clock,” mused Anti, tilting his head. His eyes shimmered and changed colors, venom green to meet the fine silver of Jameson’s gaze. “Interesting.”

For a moment more he stared at Jameson, considering, but then, oh, relief, relief, he returned to Jackie, lifting up his knife again.

“I want to talk about where your precious Sean is.” Anti began to carve, painting blood down Jackie’s torso, and Jackie bit back on a cry, fire burning across his body. “Maybe if you talk like a nice boy I’ll even leave your little dead-tongue alone, and then – ”

But there was no ‘and then.’ Time turned back across Jackie’s flesh, and, in an instant, slices of skin mended themselves back together, blood retreating to untouched veins, scars unscarring on the white curve of his stomach.

Anti watched it happen.

Fascinated.

“Well,” he whispered, tucking his little blade away. There is a larger one on the table across the room. “Now you’re just being annoying.”

He turned to Jameson and glitched forward, and then he was grabbing him by the throat, slamming him back against the wall, and Jackie screamed aloud.

“No!” he cried. Not for the first time, or the second, or the thousandth, he yanks, hard, against the chains that bind him, bruising blue his wrists. “Anti, leave him alone! He’ll stop! Jameson, stop!”

“No, you know, I don’t think he will,” Anti drawled, squeezing until Jameson gagged. “Besides, now I’m intrigued. I haven’t spent much time with the little one, you know. Family, right? They never call, they never come over to be tortured…”

“Anti, leave him alone!”

“I wonder, Jameson – that is the name, isn’t it, or do you just go by Dapper? – I wonder, Dapper, if you’re so very talented at healing your brother, are you equally skilled at saving yourself?”

“Anti,” Jackie cried again. “Leave him alone. I’m the one you want. I’m the one you’ve always wanted.”

“Quiet, pest,” Anti snarled, and shadow coated Jackie’s mouth before he could speak again, drawing away with a gag in place. “Always is over. There’s a new member of the family. And I’ve changed my mind.”

He released Jameson’s throat. Jamie slumped down in his chains – and yet, in his eyes, Jackie saw defiance.

He is the youngest. Jackie was reminded, in that moment, that he was also a hurricane.

Anti picked up the knife and turned back to him. Two forces of nature met eye-to-eye, and Jackie, between them, was only mortal.

“Let’s start with the youngest,” said Anti, and put a blade in Jameson’s chest.

Stalking down the hall, Henrik is not unlike a hurricane either.

“Where the fuck do you get off?” he shouts, and then he grabs Doctor Jonathan Farraday by the shirt collar, and yanks him away from a pleasant conversation with a nearby nurse.

“Damn it, Henrik!” Farraday cries, nearly tripping over the IV someone is dragging along as Henrik yanks him at full-speed toward the room at the end of the hall. “What the hell?”

“You know Marvin and Jameson are my patients – ”

“You’re not supposed to operate on family, Schneeplestein!”

“I’m the best doctor in this OR and not a goddamn screw-up like you – ”

“Henrik, you don’t work here anymore!” squeals Farraday.

“In the words of a close friend,” snarls Henrik. “Fuck that noise.”

He shoves the other doctor against the wall as he yanks open the door to Jameson’s room, fuming like a green-leaf fire.

The sobs Jackie is releasing into Chase’s shirt stop immediately, and Henrik’s big brother looks up with a fight in his eyes, but before he can do anything stupid Henrik is shoving him aside, rounding Jameson’s bed and flipping open the patient report he stole out of Farraday’s desk.

“There you are, Schneep,” sighs Chase, squeezing Jackie’s shoulders again. “Is Marv doing okay?”

“Fine,” replies Schneep tersely, flipping through Jameson’s charts. “Just his usual over-exertion symptoms and one bad cut. Give him two days and he’s fine. Farraday, why the hell is he intubated?”

“He needs the oxygen,” Farraday defends himself frailly. He comes to stand at Jameson’s side, and then backs away at the look in Jackie’s wild eyes. “He took at least four knife wounds to the ribs, Henrik.”

“At least? What the fuck kind of doctor are you, ‘at least?’ Was it four or not? His oxygen levels are fine!”

Farraday shuffles awkwardly past Jackie’s glare and stops at Henrik’s side, and the two doctors stand staring together at Jameson’s vitals reading.

Chase squishes Jackie’s hand in his own and turns to look at JJ, reaching down to brush a limp curl from his closed eyes. Dark lashes touch his white cheeks, but Chase is glad to see that there is at least a little color there, a little sign of life in his soft face.

“Jackie, what happened?” asks Chase, low and desperate, as Schneeplestein and Farraday erupt into argument over the amount of painkillers Jameson requires.

Jackie turns to him with tears in his eyes. He tries to steady himself through a stammer, struggling even to get the words out, let alone to say anything that will make sense to Chase. “It took hours before he stopped healing,” he chokes. “Hours and hours, and by then he was so exhausted it was like he was dying anyway. There was all this blood from his nose, and then his ears, and then his mouth, but Anti just kept going and going and going – ”

He buries his face in Chase’s shirt, sobbing again.

“Let’s just be glad Marvin found you in time,” Chase soothes, rubbing his back.

“But what if he didn’t? They told me a couple hours ago they weren’t even sure he’d make it through the night and now – ”

“Why the hell you are speaking so much bullshit!” Henrik shouts, loud enough to regain their attention. “He’s fucking fine! Take the goddamn tube out! No, forget it, I’ll get it myself! Get out of mein sight – my sight – go! Go!”

Farraday nearly falls over himself in his haste to escape, but the others ignore him. Jackie rises from his chair, hope waking up in his chest. “Henrik, what’s happening?”

“I don’t know what that idiot had him on. He’s not so bad as they told you.”

“What?”

“Look, see, how his vitals are mostly okay, just a little weakness, a little trouble breathing. I put the oxygen in his nose instead of down his throat like this and he’ll still be okay. Poor little guy. He does look so small, doesn’t he? Shit, I’m sure Farraday botched this whole thing. I am looking at his chest.”

He draws back the blankets and begins unraveling the bandages coating Jameson’s chest with a warm and professional hand, drawing away layers that Jackie could have sworn were coated in blood just hours before. Reaching bare skin, Henrik stops and gently, gently, runs his hands across Jameson’s chest.

Together, they watch the wounds disappear as though they’d never existed.

“Mein Gott,” whispers Henrik.

“Whoa,” Chase breathes.

And Jackie looks up, and sees, and Jameson opens his eyes.

Smiling through the tube in his mouth.

“Little brother,” cries Jackie, and falls upon him, clutching him close, squeezing his unscarred body tight, tight, tight. “Little brother, little brother, little brother!”

On the wall, the shattered clock has remended itself.

[fear-is-nameless]

Can I just say that I keep mis-seeing the mouth in your icon as a mustache so every time you pop up on my dash it’s a dose of “oh big mustache man” “wait a second that’s not right”

apokgvopajeogjeriogkpalgvlakjvoirajpofkl-

that

is an absolute first with my blog.

[septic-dr-schneep]

I am actually sobbing at the thought of baby Jameson and baby Chase, precious cinnamon rolls, o h m y god-

SO SMOL

[nil-the-glitch]

Illinois, Yancy, and Magnum all have fallen for a time-traveling, fourth-wall breaking, camera-faced, multi-limbed eldritch monstrosity that loves them very much and would quite literally die for them slfkjghsd

Yeah I regret that half-assed doodle already. Someone please put it out of it’s misery, it looks like it belongs in BATIM...

[whoop-de-fuking-do]

32, 45?

32. Run or hide?

hide. i cant run for shit.

45. Why?

why not? thats the real question.

[randomartdudette]

@kitnkas

So, here’s the first illustration for your ego description thing. Sorry it took so long, but it’s the holidays, so it’s FUCKING EGO TIME :DDDD

[miishae-archived]

Can I just say how much I love your Jacques??? Your headcanons about his abilities are fucking stunning and I love the way you incorporate this hypnotist aspect into your stories; your descriptions are phenomenal and god I’d reread any of your fics any day for the little details that crop up in every rereading; absolutely amazing work with your fics : D

Oh my gosh, thank you!

I absolutely love writing Jacques, and I’m so glad that he’s hitting it off with others too! Thank you for enjoying my work, and thanks for sticking around!

[mad-men-inc]

14, 31, 42 for Sam n Ren?

Tw: Suicide mention, abuse by romantic partners and parents.

14. Detail one secret shame your character feels. 

Sam: She’s ashamed for never standing up for herself to her parents until they had already hurt her and she ran away, especially since by then they didn’t listen.

Ren: Most ashamed of hurting Lei, especially since she used Sam’s feelings for her to do it. 

31. Are they superstitious about anything?

Sam: She used to be superstitious about everything related to relationships (she lived by every single “don’t do this if you want your relationships to last!”). After Jen however, she cooled it, to where she’s now just superstitious about wishes (11:11 and eyelashes specifically). 

Ren: She’s more superstitious about the supernatural, so she tries to not piss any entities off because she knows anything she does will have consequences.

42. What is their greatest achievement?

Sam: Running away from home and three abusive relationships and living to tell the story. 

Ren: Beating Riddler in two different Arkham games with minimal help!

[thedark-beyond-time]

Ho shit that’s a bigass list. Planning on gettin’ em all back?

We’re gonna try our best, yeah

[beerecordings]

Jackie reads as the guy who would pick choice c: stab the enemy in the face if he had to pick between saving two people fjjsjfa

Jackie: THERE HAS TO BE A THIRD OPTION

Chase: dude it’s just a silly quiz!!

Jackie: IT’S A STUPID QUIZ I DON’T LIKE IT

Chase: then stop fucking playing it man!!

Jackie: NO NO NO I AM GOING TO FIND A WAY TO SAVE THE WORLD AND MY DYING WIFE

Chase: YOU DON’T HAVE A WIFE

Jackie: I’M HACKING QUIZLET AS. WE. SPEAK

[i-am-parsec]

It is dark outside. He breathes in, listens to the crickets chirping, the leaves rustling, the wind whispering; he breathes out. It is silent inside, first time in what feels like forever. Mom, asleep; '"Dad", gone. He wonders how come he never realised how unusual it is for his father to leave the house until now. It surely is very common for deadbeat alcoholic parents like Charles to stay at home and do fuck nothing to be a productive member of society but even assholes like him enjoy a bit of socializing, especially if it involves getting drunk or high - and yet in the quietness of this old house, Chase notices all the little hints that point at how much his dad hates being outside: his constant avoidance of the windows, his willing ignorance of the neighbors' existence, his lack of drinking buds. It feels wrong.

It's not like Charles worries about the nosy neighbors finding out he's a shitty father and husband, the yelling and screaming alone are evidence enough, but he does seem fixated on not being around anyone but his wife and son. As if he cared about anybody's opinion. As if there was something left to hide.

"Hey." A soft whisper coming through the window.

He breathes in.

"Chase?"

He smiles.

"You asleep?"

He breathes out. He sits up on his bed and unlocks it. Some shuffling and huffling later, she's in. Greasy hair, pajama pants and his - well, not anymore - plaid shirt. She looks as gorgeous as ever.

"Wanna play Uno? I found Ana's cards in the basement. I found a lot of shit down there actually, we might be able to sell some things and make a few bucks."

He likes this. The quiet house. The resting mother. The pretty girl on his bed. If he focuses on Stacy's smile, he can pretend they are just normal, happy kids and he holds onto that fantasy, for as long as it may last. Some days are too chaotic to remember, others too boring to be worth remembering. This night, as simple as it is, he won't let go, not ever.

***

❤️Tag list❤️: @amyxmiaplay @awkward-bullshit @beck-gh @closedworldofmathiel @darktrash-drash @fanfictionrecommendations-com @flyingfishflopsthings @fruitycasket @happysingingturtles @hiimizzyxoxo @hishex @kitnkas @mcomegalletas @mijako98 @mysterious-cupcake-ninja @mysticalanimallover @novasingalaxies @plutoandpolaris @probablyghosting @randomartdudette @saltyweirdbi @scarlet--raven @septicuniverse @skyewardlight @thevampireauthoress @youllnevertaketheskyfromme @rats-this-username-is-taken

[plutoandpolaris]

Fantasy AU Character List

Because the AU has grown so much since my first post about it and almost everything has changed, here’s a new description of all of the characters and a little bit of updated backstory!

Egos:

Anti: A young demigod prince turned King after murdering his family and usurping the throne. He hopes to wrench himself out from under the thumb of his deific mother and take control of his own life again, whilst coming up with a way to get rid of her for good. However, getting involved with the gods never ends well for anyone, and the strain is starting to wear him down little by little.

Jackie: A human mercenary, raised as a miller but turned to a life of adventure and danger to escape the drudgery of his old life. After his mother receives a letter from her sister-a servant in Anti’s castle and only witness to the murder of the rest of the royal family-calling for help, Jackie takes up the challenge and sails to the island nation of Athatraim, (or as it’s more commonly referred to, The Black Forest) to challenge the new King and find out what’s been going on. It doesn’t end well for him.

Schneep: A half dryad medic who began working at Anti’s castle only a month before the then prince, only 17 at the time, murdered his family. Schneep didn’t find out about this until years after it occurred, but now that he knows, he cannot leave. There’s nowhere he could go, anyway. The Black Forest is small but dangerous, and Anti has the entire area under constant watch by his militia. So he stays, looking after his young apprentice Maya and narrowly avoiding the wrath of the King, who’s becoming less and less stable every day.

Chase: The commander of the Night Guard, a small group of fifteen warriors whom Anti uses to carry out more clandestine missions that the normal guard or the peasant militia couldn’t accomplish. He was born to a butcher in the human kingdom of Vitralia and later turned to archery as a way to support his father after he got old. He later married, had two sons, and turned his archery talent into a sort of entertainment side venture. However, the Black Forest declared war on Vitralia when he was 24 and he was drafted, working in the Vitralian army for nearly a year before being captured and sent away. How he went from a prisoner of war to one of Anti’s most trusted allies is a question that even the other Night Guard members don’t know the answer to, but it’s a story Chase isn’t too keen on telling. (But I am, expect a fic on that eventually)

Jameson: Anti’s steward. Though he is very hard on the other servants and demands punctuality and decorum out of all of them at all times, it is only to protect them against Anti’s anger should they fail to do their duties correctly. Born 200 years before our story begins, Jameson was gifted with the ability to bring plants, animals, even people back from the dead. However, resurrection comes with a steep price, and as punishment for resurrecting his father after he suffered an accident when Jameson was 25, he was cursed by Rancor, God of Death, for preventing his father's soul from passing into the underworld. The God took his as a deadly insult, and cursed Jameson with immortality, never aging, watching his family and friends grow old and leave him behind until everyone he knew was long dead. Anti, however, took interest in his powers and had him captured and taken back to the castle, and in the process, stealing some of the only things Jameson still had left: his freedom, and his voice.

Marvin: The Oracle, Anti’s advisor, and court magician. An elven mage, Marvin was born in a temple to the God of Magic, Malfice, and raised there among other mages, learning the trade and growing up secluded away from the wars raging in the southern Vitralian cities. Uniquely gifted with divination, Marvin is often plagued by prophetic dreams describing future events, but he is yet to learn to control this ability. It did, however, attract Anti’s attention, who saved Marvin from an early grave by execution for witchcraft and gave him a second chance at life and the opportunity to get revenge on the people who killed his family and tried to execute him. Marvin, grieving and angry, agreed, but not without some extra convincing. ;)

Side Characters:

Proelia: Anti’s mother, the Goddess of War and Disease.

Rihannon: God of Darkness and Corruption, Proelia’s younger brother

Alcinor: God of Memory and Dreams, Rihannon’s youngest son.

Chelsea: Head housemaid, was Anti and his late half brother Ayrin’s nursemaid.

Ayrin: Anti’s late mortal half brother, son of his father and stepmother.

Adrianne: Jackie’s mother.

Miralis: Second in command of the Night Guard.

Maya: Schneep’s young apprentice, works with him in the alchemy room of the castle.

Malfice: God of Magic and Knowledge

Natale: Young servant at the castle starting her first year on the job.

Ciern: Natale’s friend, stablehand at the castle.

Vitae: Queen of the Gods, Goddess of Life

Rancor: King of the Gods, God of Death, Proelia’s father.

(There’s a TON of little side characters in this but I’m only putting the most important ones because this is a monster of a post already.)

(Taglist) 

@egopocalypse @shadowsinyoursoul @epicfangirl01 @kitnkas @mijako98 @anothermarkiplierfan @sarinoxious @bunchofdoodlesinspace @spicydanhowell @ekhoecho @awkward-bullshit @amockingbirdslament @acuriousquail @hollenka99 @lower-your-expectationss 

Let me know if you’d like added or taken off! 

Fantasy AU Masterlist 

[septic-dr-schneep]

Shawn Flynn is like The Definition of bad touch stranger danger tbh.

Yeaaah :/ He hasn’t had contact with another human in so long that when he does, he’s grabby and touchy and creepy!

[nil-the-glitch]

;D it's the finest treasure of all

That feel when you knew right off the bat that “Treasured Gold” was the right answer, as opposed to “Golden Treasure”. But then you went back for the golden treasure afterwards because what if

[whoop-de-fuking-do]

u have big chase energy

hell yeah!

a dad bean!!