#so getting them through trickshots seems to be out of the question

[heartful-cake]

thinking of peach's inexplicable power to generate or find 1-up mushrooms in mario galaxy. like how much energy does that take? is this even usually possible for an inhabitant within the mushroom world? like mario and co. generate 1-up mushrooms by doing enough trick shots and comboing enemies, but i don't think peach usually is surrounded by enemies when she's captured, which means she has to generate them herself right? unless she keeps finding them on bowser's airships or wherever she's being held? is this an extension of her white magic? it definitely fits with her personality and other skill sets, but i'm just so curious how her sending mario 1-up mushrooms logically works out...

[forevercloudnine]

new 52 riddlebat ship meme

(@heroes-etc picked me out a lot of questions and we’re still going. This set is from this ship meme.)

1. Who makes the first move and how?

Ostensibly it would be Edward, if putting together a subtext-laden citywide scavenger hunt that threatens the lives of hundreds counts as “making the first move.” But there’s a limit to how much deliberately obfuscating any expression of your feelings can be considered making any move at all. He also doesn’t seem to really know what he wants from Bruce — in “Alone,” he’s quick to say that he designed the puzzles to lead Batman to him on purpose, but doesn’t have an answer when questioned on what he wanted Batman to do other than catch him.

So even though Edward is technically the instigator here, he places the burden of actually doing something entirely on Batman. Which is difficult, because Riddler’s increased brutality in the New 52 makes him like the last possible version of the character Bruce would choose to pursue. BUT Scott Snyder made Batjokes practically text in this continuity, so obviously New 52 Bruce does not have a problem getting overly emotionally involved with supervillains who have unrealistically large body counts. In fact, the brutality may work to Edward’s advantage here; if he caused enough damage, maybe Bruce would kidnap him and keep him in the Batcave the way it was revealed he was keeping the Joker in Dark Days: The Casting #1. 

What could be more romantic than being imprisoned in the batcave? Well, probably a lot of things, really. But in this case, having a lot of quality time together in which Riddler is not actively murdering anyone is probably the only way that these two could work out what they have going on between them. 

Edward could also earn his way down there by figuring out Batman’s identity, which he’s clearly pretty close to in Batman Annual #4. There’s only so much mental distance between “Bruce Wayne is obsessed with the death of his parents and his drive for justice and revenge has led him to bring Batman into existence, making him responsible for everything Batman has ever done” and “Bruce Wayne IS Batman,” especially when Bruce Wayne does things like climb museum exhibits to leave through the skylight or pull off a trickshot that ruins Riddler’s whole evil plan directly in front of Edward’s face.

And if he DID figure it out, New 52 Riddler would probably be less courteous about its secrecy than Joker is. (Not that Joker is THAT polite about it, given that he keeps trying to use the information to either kill Bruce’s whole family, or... I don’t know... whatever he did with Wayne Enterprises in Joker War. Wait, is THAT why Bruce was keeping Joker in the Batcave in Rebirth?) 

So just to review, I am *checks notes* arguing that Bruce would instigate a romantic relationship by kidnapping Edward and imprisoning him against his will. Yes, that sounds about right for DC’s current continuity.

6. Who would they ask if they ever had a threesome?

If Riddler DOESN’T know Batman’s secret identity, then he would want to have a threesome with Bruce Wayne. Batman Annual #4 suggests that he might have already been a bit obsessed with Bruce even before suspecting his involvement with Batman, given that he talks about how watching Bruce in the tabloids growing up was everyone’s “favorite tv show” and reminisces about learning a lot of information about Bruce’s life that way, including stuff that wouldn’t have made it to the news, like Bruce anonymously setting his teacher’s yard on fire as a teenager.

It’s actually almost a Batman Forever vibe, or it would be if New 52 Edward wasn’t so much less endearing. Is his childhood fascination with Bruce part of why he got a job working for Bruce’s uncle at Wayne Enterprises as an adult, or was that just a happy accident in his preparations for Zero Year? Either way, he’s clearly obsessed with Bruce now, and he’s definitely under the impression that Batman knows him well. So as long as he didn’t know they were the same person, he would probably try to arrange a ménage à trois (wouldn’t that be awkward).

If he DID know they were the same person, then unfortunately Edward would definitely try and instigate a threesome with Joker. I’m not saying it would work, I’m just saying that all of the War of Jokes and Riddles reads like Edward trying to insert himself in the middle of Batjokes and getting rejected by both of them repeatedly.

Joker wasn’t interested the first time Riddler came on to him (or the second time, literally in the same office, Edward please learn how to read a room), so he probably wouldn’t go for it if Edward tried again. But if The War and Jokes and Riddles demonstrated anything, it’s that Edward doesn’t know how to take a hint, so he’d probably try again regardless. And then blame Bruce when it doesn’t work, probably. I always thought it was dumb when Riddler hyped up the oh-so-horrible thing that Batman did to him in the War of Jokes and Riddles in Batman #19, only for it to turn out that Bruce just, like... almost stabbed him.... but didn’t. After Riddler had ALREADY betrayed him.

But it makes more sense that Edward is being such a dramatic bitch if you’re instead interpreting “I still remember what he did” as just a summary of the conga line of rejection that Riddler received over the course of that arc from both sides of Batjokes.

(TWOJAR as helpfully summarized by @heroes-etc​)

11. What do they hide from one another?

I don’t think they can really hide anything from each other, actually. I mean there’s the obvious “Batman is hiding his secret identity” and “Riddler is hiding evil scheme of the week #39.” But Bruce is the “World’s Greatest Detective” as per usual, and Edward is actually not that far behind him in this continuity (even if his delusions can cause him to project and misinterpret his findings, i.e. assuming that Bruce purposefully went bankrupt so that Riddler and the other Arkhamites would have to live in Wayne Manor and be reminded of him every second of every day). Batman Annual #4 has a great example of this where Edward reveals that he knows about how Bruce tried to treat his paranoid vigilante compulsions with shock therapy when he was a teenager. No one but Alfred and the doctors know about that — and I’m just assuming that Alfred knew, it’s not something that was stated in Zero Year.

Bruce obviously solves pretty much every riddle that Edward puts in front of him, but he picks up on the stuff that Riddler is purposefully trying to obscure too. Whether he was researching Edward ahead of time (likely) or just so good at snap psychoanalysis he should have a job at Arkham (possible, Zero Year was written by Scott Snyder), his summary of Edward’s life during their first interaction as Batman and Riddler in Batman #31 is clearly too accurate for Edward’s comfort, as it ruins what had previously been excitement on Riddler’s part that Batman was still alive. 

So good luck to both of them at hiding absolutely anything from each other. The best they can hope for is if WHEN the other person finds what they’ve been hiding, they misinterpret either the information or the reason why it was hidden from them in the first place. Both of them are always willing to jump to the worst case scenario (which, given who they’re dealing with, fair enough), so I’m sure the resulting miscommunication would be both extremely entertaining and highly likely to lead to city-wide destruction.

27. Why do their friends get annoyed with them?

Does New 52 Riddler even have friends? He and Scarecrow claim to have respect for each other in Detective Comics ft. Scarecrow #23.3, but it’s in the context of Scarecrow lying and manipulating all the rogues in the lead up to Forever Evil, and it comes about three panels after Riddler passive aggressively mocks Jonathan’s childhood trauma at the hands of his “daddy.” (Rude, Edward. Rude and gross.)

If they are friends, then the reasons why Riddler dating Scarecrow’s arch nemesis would annoy Jonathan are pretty self-explanatory. Also Edward is clearly the kind of person who would taunt the rest of the Arkhamites with any privileges earned/information gleaned from getting closer to the Bat. When I was younger my mother would always warn me not to waste emotional energy on girls who ditch their friends to prioritize their relationship as soon as they get a new boyfriend. Well, Riddler is that girl.

Bruce’s friends and family obviously also have nearly infinite reasons to be annoyed with Bruce for dating a supervillain (shoutout to Duke Thomas, who was unfortunate enough to have Riddler’s Zero Year during the most formative time of his childhood), but Barbara Gordon would doubtlessly be more pissed than most. Riddler deciding that he’s in love with Batgirl out of the blue (despite them never having met before?) when he finds out that Batman’s marrying Catwoman was already irritating, but I can only imagine how much MORE annoying it would be in the context of Riddler later hooking up with Batman.

If Barbara ever found out about them hooking up, she would immediately have war flashbacks to Batman: Prelude to the Wedding pt. 3. She has a great memory so unfortunately she probably has perfect recall of having to spend an entire evening listening to a pre-recorded monologue of Riddler philosophizing about why he’s not bitter that Batman and Catwoman are getting married and how he’s still straight even though he’s never felt lasting attraction to a woman. And then she would rightfully go apeshit.

29. Why do they fall a little bit more in love?

Thinking of how this question could possibly be answered from Bruce’s perspective made me laugh out loud, which is probably not a good sign given that I’m 4/5 of the way through writing a ship meme for him and Edward. But Riddler is just. So much in the New 52. Okay, I’m taking it seriously now. WHY DOES HE FALL MORE IN LOVE. Well, the fastest way to Bruce’s heart (other than being an attractive woman with dark hair, green eyes, and ambiguous morals) is to assist him in his crusade against crime. While that doesn’t initially seem like something Edward would do (as we see in Batgirl vs. Riddler, he seems to think the key to romance is “mixtapes”), he does go out of his way to give Bruce information about a Gotham-wide criminal conspiracy in Batman Eternal #39. He doesn’t appreciate that Batman’s current opponent is actively trying to wear him down — he wants to fight the Bat at his best, when he can think clearly. So he gives Bruce information he needs to solve the mystery.

Edward seems to also be under the impression that this would endear him to Batman, because he gives Batman a series of riddles that lead Bruce right to him so that they can talk in person. And then gets very surprised when Bruce subsequently arrests him. You’re still a criminal, Edward. This is like the first favor you’ve ever done him. Do it a dozen more times and then MAYBE you’ll start getting the free passes he’s been handing out to Harley and Ivy. But Bruce DOES save him from an avalanche after this, even though in the past Bruce has left him to die out of apathy (The War of Jokes and Riddles) or actively tried to kill him (also The War of Jokes and Riddles). So Edward IS winning him over, just very, very slowly.

Riddler pretty obviously just enjoys having someone to talk to that he feels is “on his level.” Even though he’s already arranged for Bruce Wayne’s assassination by the first time they meet in Batman #39, he obviously enjoys conversing with someone who can and will unravel his riddles and double meanings, to the point that afterwards he musingly wishes that they’d have an opportunity to talk again. Obviously they do, but it’s no thanks to Riddler. You can just NOT assassinate someone if you think they’re hot, Edward.

It’s what seemingly endears him to Batman too (at least, until Bruce ruins the mood by calling him an attention whore in front of all of Gotham). Though it’s basically always bad news for him, Edward clearly enjoys any time that Bruce or Batman exhibits his intelligence. 

[derireo]

A3! And What Sports They’d Play ↦ All Troupes

So.. I was talking to a friend about the sports we used to play in the past. I loved sports as a kid and thinking of Haikyu also pushed me to do this. All troupes are included, and individual characters gets their own sport and my take on how well I think they’d do in it!

Kind of went off on Autumn and Winter Troupe;; sorry.

Uh, E-Sports, of course. He gets absolutely winded from walking, so sitting down and competitively playing a game he loves is his dream. On particularly intense matches, he breaks a heavy sweat and needs a lot of water and snacks to keep himself focused and in the game.

He's a popular player and a great one as well! Sometimes he gets asked to host little bits of the tournaments he attends because he has such a big fanbase and he's awesome at entertainment despite his normally deadpan tone with jokes.

He has a lot of energy, so I think running in track or doing marathons would be good for him. Afterall, he's one of the first to run after Tsuzuru in the prologue of the game. He isn't the best nor is he the fastest runner, but his stamina is impressive and lets him outlast many of his competitors.

I also see him doing kayaking? Not competitively, but he definitely loves the thrill of crashing down small waterfalls and regaining his balance right after. The flow of the currents is exhilarating and he has a good sense of balance, so he'd rarely overturn in a kayak (which is absolutely dangerous by the way).

He wouldn't do any competitive sports, but skate/longboarding is something I can definitely see him doing. If he needs time to himself or just simply wants to chill, he'll go out and enjoy the breeze as he boards down the bike lane in the park or on the road, hands in pockets.

He becomes a bit of an attraction at skate parks though. He's always seen there on his board, headphones donned and hands in pockets like I said; effortlessly performing tricks that a lot of other skaters would struggle doing. People are very attracted to the sight, and he lures them in whenever someone finds out he's at the park that day.

He's already suffering so much and is always tired— I wouldn't put it past him to play shuffleboard. It's not a laborious sport, and he can play with anyone like his siblings or any elders who need the company. It's a slow paced sport and is great for sleepy Tsuzuru who needs a break from scrip writing. I don't know if there were any canon stories of him actually being involved in a sport at some point, but I think he'd be pretty okay at tennis or table tennis.

Tennis is a very intense sport so he didn't play it for long because practice cut into his studying, his part-time jobs, and his babysitting. Table tennis is similar to tennis with it's concept, except you can just kind of stand in one spot and don't have to run around as much. It's a fun game to play with his siblings since they enjoy it so much, and they always run after the ball so he doesn't have to do much other than play along with them and clean up when they're done.

I honestly have no idea with Citron. I don't remember any canon details of Zahra (I think that's where he's from?) so I don't want to assume what kind of environment he was in that would influence his choice of athletics, but I think he would enjoy swimming! In the beach event, he ran into the water happily with Kazunari if I can remember, and I'd like to think he had a good body type for water.

There's also another part of me that thinks he'd love skydiving! The thrill of jumping out of the helicopter and letting the winds beat against him as he soared down towards the ground below would be awesome. He's practically shouting for joy as he glides down and loves the look of the city from above. Impressively enough, he can do flips in the air and loves twirling around, much to the dismay of other skydivers as they fear for him.

He's not one for actively moving, but ballet seemed interesting to him and he wanted to try it out. He had no idea how intense ballet was, from strict teachers, to getting blisters on his ankles and feet, Yuki actually almost quit. What prevented him from doing so was probably watching a performance where his seniors were giving the juniors an extravagant scene to watch and they inspired Yuki to keep going.

I would have said acrobatics/gymnastics as well, but Yuki's arms aren't very strong and he doesn't like doing flashy things like that anyways (no offense...? I don't know, I haven't watched videos of this sport in years). If he did pursue acrobatics/gymnastics, I'm not sure if he'd be amazing at it, but he would definitely be decent! He's got the flare;;

Running! Since he was in track for a while and was rumoured to be great at it, he would definitely be doing marathons and track alongside Sakuya. He had great speed and a stamina to match so he's a terribly good opponent to go against if you like to get pushed past your limits. If he kept pursuing track he would train during late nights and early morning with Tasuku, who has his routine jogs at those times.

Absolutely adores the sport too! His team of runners were basically second family to him, so if he chose to return, he would have the time of his life growing as a sportsman with them. He would grow into a fine and very popular runner! Hitting his growth spurt would only make him an even more fearsome competitor as his legs would get longer and his intense training with Omi and Tasuku would get his stamina maxed out.

He has no time to do sports since he's always acting, so I honestly can't say what he'd do. He isn't the best runner either and extreme sports is out of the question since he's a bit of a scaredy cat. I guess he would enjoy a casual game of table tennis though? But despite liking the sport, I'm going to say that he kind of sucks at it. He understands the rules and everything, but his rhythm is off and he never manages to hit the ball back.

He's good at receiving a strike back though! He's always lucky at standing in the right spot with his paddle in the correct position to receive a smash hit, and that's basically the only time he wins a point because he catches his opponent off guard. It doesn't happen often though, so he still gets absolutely destroyed during a game of table tennis.

I believe Misumi would be amazing at track & field. He runs extremely fast for one, and he does parkour like no other; he would definitely place first in sports like long jump, high jump, pole vault, and sprints. He doesn't have a particular favourite event to do though, but always does his best when someone gives him an incentive to do his best.

Izumi and Omi offer him triangle onigiri? He's going to run as fast as he can! Jump as high as he can and as far as he can! No one will be able to stop Misumi. But then again, competitive parkour is a thing, I'm pretty sure, so he can just do that sport for fun and still place in the top 3 at least. He would be terrible awesome at Ultimate Frisbee, but the disc isn't a triangle, so. :p

Him? Sports? No.

I'm kidding. Do not know at all what sport he would enjoy playing, but billiards is something that suits him in my opinion. It doesn't have to be competitive, but he's greatly skilled at handling a cue stick, and his aim is impeccable. He's real lucky with trick-shots too, so don't go and start betting money with him; you'll definitely splurge all of your cash on him within seconds.

Sigh. It's super annoying that he's good at everything, and sports are no exception. He plays futsal with Omi and Tasuku the most, and is very light on his feet. He's so good that during competitive games he'll do a trickshot and score, or will play around with his check and do something like dribble the ball between their legs when they're at their most vulnerable.

I'm sure he would fall in love with ice hockey, though. Ice hockey is fast paced and is a contact sport so Banri would feel free on the ice rink. Good thing is that he's pretty good looking, so he's a fan favourite player. The cold air biting into his skin as he pushes himself across the rink to get to the puck is exciting and he loves body checking opponents into the walls (this also makes him a controversial player since he plays rough and dirty).

He'd be a monster at competitive martial arts. Taekwondo especially, considering his kicks come in hot and fast. His spinning kicks are ones to avoid if you go against him, but he's so quick on his feet and can kick higher than his head so you might get a quick KO if you can't read his body language fast enough. Judo is also high on the list despite it being more of a grappling and throwing sport, but Juza's quick reflexes make him a difficult opponent to beat. Normally wins a match using jiu-jitsu grappling techniques on the floor.

He would also be great at ice hockey. His large figure and quick feet would make him a great player, and his posture is always low to the ground so it wouldn't be easy to knock him over on the rink. Not exactly the best at dribbling the puck though, but give him a one-timer when he's open and he'll send that thing flying through the net. No one tries to pick fights with him on the rink though lol, he's notorious for one hit ko's.

Taichi gives off the chaotic vibes of Nishinoya from Haikyu, but he would suck at volleyball so I'm giving him badminton cause height doesn't matter too much I think as long as he's quick on his feet and is able to read the body language of his opponents well. His form would be perfect though and he's super agile so getting to that shuttlecock is no problem for him. He's got a bit of muscle too so he can send those babies flying!

Doesn't really use strategy most of the time, so he'll just keep hitting and receiving the shuttlecock however he wants until his opponent tires or until someone messed up a smash. No one else in Mankai plays badminton so finding him a coach is a bit difficult. He eventually learns other ways to hit the shuttlecock, so when he learns how to slice or do drop shots, he's a little monster on the court!

Oh, the sports he would play.. Obviously, he plays futsal with Tasuku unless you haven't seen his card where he's playing as goalkeeper! With that information, he would absolutely destroy volleyball teams as a middle. Now I don't know if calling middles 'middle blocker' and outside hitters 'wing spikers' is like.. a cultural thing, and I know that's what they call the players in Haikyu, but it definitely catches me off guard and really confused lol. So, yeah! Omi would be amazing as a middle in the front since he's so tall and can shuffle fast on his feet to block a front row opponent. He's like Tendou in a way where he's great at reading people, the only thing is that he's better than Tendou (no offense, I'm serious) because he doesn't need to guess. He already knows. UGH, I want to go off on volleyball (both indoor & outdoor), but this part is getting long. Lmk if you want to hear me talk more about A3! & volleyball.

American football/rugby. Don't tell me I'm wrong please, I'll cry. Both of these are a full contact sport, and looking at Omi's past and his physical structure, you can't tell me he would not obliterate everyone on the field. He is either the offensive guard or the tackle. He will not start offensive plays, but he will end defensive plays. He stops any player from tackling their centre and tackles those who try to hit a blindside. I don't know much about rugby other than it is just as rough as American Football, just with less protective gear. I'm stopping here because I'm thirsting too much for Omi rn.

HOO, baby! When I looked at Sakyo, I just knew he would be able to do something with swords, so I chose kendo/fencing. Keno is a traditional martial art stemming from Japan and is practised with wooden swords. I won't say I know much about the sport, but it is definitely tense and is very noisy. Noisy because kendokas/kenshis shout whenever they strike, this is to show their spirit. Sakyo kind of hates shouting during the sport, but it definitely lets off some steam and gives him more momentum when he strikes.

I also think fencing because there are swords involved here too, it's just that it seems to be more of a European sport and has some sort of specific footwork involved. The piste may seem a bit narrow as well compared to kendo where they have a whole floor to themselves, so Sakyo doesn't practice fencing as often. (The clothing he's required to wear for this sport is also quite stifling as well.)

I'm ngl, but I didn't know what sport to give Tsumugi, omg, so I ended up giving him cup stacking. You know, you remember; I feel like you should do some research if you don't though because cup stacking was a huge thing in the early 2000's (?) and kids were setting world records here and there non-stop. Tsumugi uses his hands a lot for things like gardening, tutoring, bouquet arranging, etc, so he's deft and talented with them.

As long as he puts his mind to it, cup stacking is a piece of cake for him. He doesn't play anymore, but every now and then he'll look at his old kit in the corner of his room and will set it up with Tasuku in the lounge room for everyone to have a go at it. He loves the thrill and the way his adrenaline runs through his veins as he focuses on trying not to mess up the stack down.

HOOOO! Okay, so we already know Tasuku plays futsal so I'm not going to bother, but man.. He would be the same as Omi in volleyball; an absolute monster of a middle player. He's well rounded in the sport, so his coaches/team actually refuse to switch him out with a libero/defence specialist. His digs are almost on point with the setter, and he's always at the right spot when receiving, making sure no one gets an empty spot on the court.

When he's in the front blocking or hitting, he's almost always successful, and since he trains a lot with different drills and regimes, he perfects a lot of things like tipping, tooling, slicing, and even setting. His height added along with his vertical makes it almost impossible for opponents to block him, and when he's feeling good in a game, he'll start doing things like float serves and jump serves. If he's feeling any better, he'll play around and start doing slide hits at the front or will hit from position A on the back court (left corner facing the net). He'd also do swimming!!!!!!!!! BUT THIS IS GETTING TOO LONG

Definitely would do archery/darts. He's got impeccable aim if you take evidence from his outside work chats with Banri and has no problem pulling the string on a bow. Archery is difficult and I am not lying. Pulling the string until it's taut takes a large amount of strength and it digs deep into your fingertips, leaving calluses after one or two pulls.

Figuring out the trajectory and weighing in the factors of weather (if you're outside) takes a lot of skill and practice, and Hisoka always manages to hit the centre of the target with no hesitancy with his release of the string. His hands are all rough from the string digging into his fingers all the time, showing you how long he's been practising the sport.

I don't think Homare was very athletic growing up. I'm saying this only because his body type is quite lean and he's a poet after all who seems to stay inside more often than not if he isn't meeting with an editor/publisher. I think figure skating would suit him very well as it is an elegant and cold weathered sport. I also think he would fall in love with the suits if Yuki made them as they'd sparkle brilliantly and show off his flare as a skater.

He figure skates as a casual hobby rather than competitive, but he definitely makes a lot of famous friends in the community due to his whimsical personality and beautiful posture.

Kyudo (Japanese archery) was a sport that popped into my mind for Azuma, despite the strain it puts on the skin of his fingertips. His skin is very delicate with how much he takes care of it, so he wears a glove on his dominant hand to protect him. Kyudo seems to be more of a peaceful archery, and with the sight of Azuma in the kyudo uniform, the scene in front of you would be quite serene and calming.

I also think he would be great at figure skating since his body is lithe and he has lovely facial features that would complement the body suits that Yuki would create for him. His long hair flowing in the breeze he creates as he glides throughout the rink would be gorgeous along with the way his body looks as he does an axle in the air. His performances on the rink are always mesmerising, and he'll receive a few claps from fellow rink goers when he's in the centre just casually practising.

[my-brothers-corrupted]

Chapter Four - Part 6

Anti finds out about the missing medication.

Tws for severe abuse/torture, bruising, blood, imprisonment, and hypnosis.

Part 6 - Grantaire

“Ro?” says Blue carefully, stepping slow so as not to disturb a potentially out-of-his-mind older brother. “You want to tell me what the hell you’re doing?”

Red laughs. “You sound like you’re wondering if I’ve lost it.”

“I might be.”

“Well, I might have,” replies Red cryptically, and then turns to grin at him. He puts the shovel into the ground beside him and smacks his gloved hands together to rid them of dirt, standing over the hole he’s made in the front lawn.

One of at least five you can see.

“Diggin’ traps!” says Red. “So if anybody tries to come to the house, they’ll break their dumb-ass ankles.”

Blue breathes out an amused snort, shaking his head at him. “Better than doing nothing, I guess.”

“You doing okay? Come sit with me and I’ll dig if you want.”

Blue wants to tell him he’s okay, but it’s not been true for a few days. “Yeah, I’ll sit with you. Need some sun.”

“You do,” agrees Ro, frowning over at his moon-pale twin with his foggy, tired eyes. “Yeah.”

pine-storm-season asked: Hello Red, and hello Blue! Has today been uneventful so far?

“Yeah, pretty quiet, which I am more than grateful for,” says Ro, brushing sweat off his forehead. There’s exercise equipment in the basement and the motivation to be strong and fit again is one of the small things that keeps him going. “I think Dapper’s the only one who’s not going a little nuts with the confinement, though. None of us have, like, things to do, really. Usually we help Dok with a clinic or Anti sends us out to do shit. But now we’re just stuck. I gotta get out of this houseeeeee.”

He draws the word out, stabbing into the earth with greater ferocity, but he keeps a warm smile on his mouth, because in all honesty things could be a lot worse. Blue looks at him, thinking. He doesn’t really know where his brother’s at in his head these days, really - he just knows that Red tries to pretend he’s not as sad as he is, and that his priority is always their safety, and that he hasn’t laid a cruel hand on anyone since the day Anti stole him away again.

“If you have any other ideas for how to keep people out, please let me know,” says Red. “I’ll do it. At this point I’m up for anything. I think Dapper’s sharpening spikes on the porch, but in all honesty, I didn’t even think to question the little nightmare.”

Anonymous asked: Where's trick now? Is he still with Anti?

You find Dok at the bottom of the stairs.

He doesn’t even look up at you, just nods.

—

“There are reasons I do the things I do, you know,” says Anti.

You only have to look once to see that he has Trick in a deep thrall. Trick is practically in his lap, letting Anti sew up a hole in his shirt, his arms around his brother’s neck.

“You slapped Dapper,” says Trick, unhappy despite the glaze over his eyes and the faint sway of his head. “Please don’t hit him. I think maybe you’re also… I need you to not do that.”

“Tricks, if there isn’t a little force, everybody falls out of line. There’s a lot of control issues in this family, a lot of personalities that clash and problems in their heads. If I didn’t use a little force here and there, everyone would fall apart, pet. Dapper would have to go to a mental hospital and Red would run off with that guy he barely remembers and Dok - well, you’ve saved him from himself enough times to know what Dok does if no one’s there to save him from himself.”

Trick shivers, shaking his head. “I don’t want Dok to get hurt.”

“Okay, so don’t be so scared when I have to shove everybody around a little or when you have to shove somebody around a little, for that matter. Weren’t you obedient for Red when he used a little force?”

“Yeah, always.”

“You’re Red now. So don’t be so chickenshit. You have to protect the others from themselves. You’re right. If Dok would just take off those necklaces, wouldn’t everything be so much easier?”

“So much easier.”

“Don’t let him get all weepy with you just cause you had to put him in his place. He’ll get used to it. Without it, he would run off or hurt himself. All of them would. And then you’d be alone, Trickshot. You’d be all alone in the world again. No one would care about you. Is that what you want?”

“No,” insists Trick, shaking his head harder. “No, no.”

“Okay, then,” purrs Anti, stroking his hair, his pretty green hair, curling at the front. “Then everything’s good, my darling, isn’t it?”

Trick smiles at him, touching his cheek. Anti closes his eyes at the feeling of his little brother’s fingers in his beard, tangled up with him.

“Everything’s good,” agrees Trick. “Everything’s perfect, Anti.”

Anonymous asked: Geez Anti, you really got him in the palm of your hand uh? That much hypnosis can't be good for trick in the long term

“Hmmm,” grumbles Anti, dissatisfied. He hates thinking about that. Right now, he just wants to know that one of them is his without a doubt, without hesitation. And he will keep this one close to his chest - no matter what it takes. “He’s okay.”

“I feel good,” chirrups Trick. “I feel okay.”

“Yeah, sweet boy. You’re okay.”

Anonymous asked: Hey, Dok. You doing alright, bud?

“Everything’s great,” he says.

And it’s probably meant to be sarcastic, but really he just looks tired. Dapper ducks his head into the entryway, finding his brother sitting alone on the stairs, as he has all morning, without moving.

Anonymous asked: Oh dok... I'm so sorry. It seems like Anti keep burrowing his hold deeper into trick. You're probably going to be alone for a bit

Dok buries his face in his hands.

Very tired. Very tired of this fight. Very ready to be gone. Maybe for good. Very ready for something to change. But it never does. It never does. It never -

A hand descends on his shoulder, enveloping it. He looks up, eyes wide.

“You’re not alone,” signs Dapper, sitting down beside him. “You are never alone.”

Anonymous asked: Is blue alright? ":(

“This is my fault. I should have been watching you. I should have known the sun would be too much for you. It’s like thirty degrees out here.”

Red helps Blue towards the house, clutching him to his chest. Blue wants to tell him his constant self-blame is hardly ever deserved, but he’s feeling - hell, he doesn’t know if unwell even begins to cover it anymore. He’s faint and nauseous and that feeling is back - like there’s something beneath his skin. Like there’s something inside the folds of his brain. Like he’s a stiff white puppet on taut, tight strings, choking.

He’s tough. He is. He always has been. He always tries to be.

Right now, he just wants his big brother to make everything stop hurting.

“Red,” he cries, slumping down against his bed. “I don’t want to be here anymore.”

Red paces around the room, stressed, wetting a washcloth in the bathroom next to the sink.

“I want to stop feeling bad, Red, please touch me, please put your hands on me, this isn’t my skin…”

Red recognizes the mantra with a sharp fear. He had hoped that night where Blue was clinging to him and begging for his hands on him would be the only one of its kind.

The realization that the damage Anti is causing could be lasting terrifies him.

“I’m here,” he says, putting a washcloth on his head and his hands on his sides, stroking him through his shirt. “I’m here and so are you. Blue. Azul. My twin. My brother. You’re the only one here with me.”

Anonymous asked: So when is trick going to be allowed back downstairs? Are you going to keep him with you for much longer, Anti?

“I just want to hang out a little,” says Anti, setting Trick down beside him as he finishes the hole in his shirt. “Play a game with me, Trick. Or play a game and I’ll watch. I like to hear you talking. Sometimes it’s quiet with just Dap and I up here. I like to hear you talking.”

Anonymous asked: hey, blue, love. it's just you. it's just you, buddy. how about you curl up with red and we can talk to you, and try to distract you. would you like that, blue?

“Fuck, I can’t think straight,” whispers Blue.

“But that’s not new,” whispers back Red.

There’s a moment of confusion from Blue - and then the most begrudging smile Red’s ever seen.

“Fuck you,” laughs Blue, touching his hair. “Goddamn. When I throw up all over you, it’s because of that.”

Red snuggles down next to him in bed. “That’s fair.”

“You can talk with us as long as you like,” says Blue.

His voice is weak and tired. Pressed against his ribs, Roser can feel just how thready his heartbeat is.

It’s a new kind of fear for him. In the past, the best way to survive has always been to outlast Anti’s temper tantrums, protecting his siblings as best he can as they happen and taking care of any injuries, trusting that Anti and Dapper would not let one of them die, no matter how cruel their master can be.

But ever since that night Blue wouldn’t let him let go of him, Red has begun to wonder -

Maybe this is a storm we cannot sail through.

Maybe we should go.

He loves Anti.

But not enough to let him do this to his heart.

Anonymous asked: hey, blue! birds or reptiles? (in other words, the cat-or-dog question but with animals you probably hadn't thought about before.) and what about you, red?

“Ah.” Blue laughs weakly. “Um, birds, yeah. For sure.”

“I want a snake,” says Red.

“Fuck’s sake.”

“I do.”

“You’d have to feed it little baby mice.”

“That’s nature! I am ready and willing! Or maybe a skink.”

Anonymous asked: hell yeah, bird gang! snakes are pretty cool though, too. my family has a bunch of really silly chickens, sometimes they'll do stuff like sleep outside in the rain,,, while literally sitting on the door to the henhouse,,,,, or steal all the plums from the plum trees we have. they're good birds though, although they are dumbasses sometimes. does noodle do dumb cat things like that, too?

“I don’t know, I think he does,” says Blue, shaking his head a little. “Um. He falls off the bed sometimes.”

“Let’s let Blue have a lie-down for a while,” sighs Red, sitting up beside him. “You’re looking so pale.”

“Really don’t feel well,” he murmurs. “Really don’t.”

Red looks down at him, his hand across his white face, his eyes closed.

“Okay,” he says, beneath his breath. “We’ll go to the hospital tomorrow, then. And if Dark catches me… then Dark catches me.”

Anonymous asked: Yeah, we're here, Dok. We're with you, bud. We're supporting you however we can.

“Thank you,” sighs Dok. “You, at least, never seem to fall for his tricks. I’m grateful.”

Red steps into the hallway, a slightly dazed look in his eyes.

“Red?” asks Dapper, cocking his head at him. “Everything okay?”

Red blinks and then nods. Dapper doesn’t need to know. It’s safer if he doesn’t. “Yes, buddy, no worries.”

He’ll pack. He needs til tomorrow to try and steal the IDs out of Anti’s room - assuming he’s made new ones since the fire. He’ll get snacks and ready a lie.

He’ll get his twin help. No more waiting around. He is big brother, and he makes his own decisions.

Anonymous asked: do you want to try to sleep a bit, blue? that might help.

Blue does end up sleeping. He sleeps deep and hard, and Red is grateful. He hopes Blue is getting used to being himself at night again. He is still sleeping while Red gets his backpack and begins to shove things inside.

He puts brownies and apples and granola into their own little ziploc bags, and damn, isn’t that a privilege in its own right after all this time? He never thought he’d feel rich holding ziploc bags. A couple changes of clothes for both of them follow their snacks in, as well as what little money he has - Colombian pesos, already near worthless in their own country, now worth even less wherever he is now. He gets a camera and a charger and tucks it away just in case. Their toothbrushes. A comb. Deodorant. A blanket. Bag’s full.

“What else, what else?” he mumbles. “Can you think of anything? I’ll need to get the IDs out of Anti’s room if he’s made more. Most of the time, I’d try to go without them, but my fear is - ”

He gives a deep, mournful sigh, brushing his hair out of his eyes.

“My fear is we might be in America.”

“Dun dun dun,” mumbles a sleepy Blue from his bed, and Red barks out a laugh.

“Go back to bed, dumbass. I got this handled.”

“I just let you do your own thing.” Blue turns back over and goes back to sleep.

Anonymous asked: what's your plan here, red? that might help with figuring out anything you've missed.

“I just - I’ll just get him to the hospital. I know where the road is, I think I remember. I can carry him if he’s tired. I’ll carry him the whole way if I have to, but I’m hoping we can hitchhike. We’ll get to a hospital. Sneak him out if I gotta cause we don’t have insurance. And if Anti comes to get us, at least he’ll have gotten a little help by the time he - ”

There’s a crash from upstairs and a short scream.

Red stiffens and stills, listening.

Anonymous asked: bringing him into the forest? do you think that is a safer option than waiting another few days?

Red sighs, running his fingers through his hair. “I… I don’t know. Maybe I’m being hasty. I - ”

Trick rushes past the door. Red looks up, startled. “Bud? What’s going on?”

“Where’s Dok?”

“Downstairs, I think. Hey, wait! What’s happening?”

“Dude,” says Trick, shaking his head. “Man, I’d hide.”

He tears down the basement stairs.

Red looks up.

Anti’s staring down from the banister upstairs, holding a half-empty bottle of small, white, anti-psychotics.

Anonymous asked: what is it, anti?

“Oh, nothing much, nothing much, nothing much,” says Anti, voice completely unglitching. “Not that much at all.”

Red backs up and returns to his room, standing in front of Blue as he sleeps. Anti stalks down the stairs step at a time, step at a time, step at a time. He puts his lips together and whistles a pretty old song you’ve heard Dap whistling a time or two - daisy, daisy, give me your answer, do…

“Where’s my little boy at?” he says, but the whistling keeps going even as his mouth moves, echoing around the walls of the house. “Where’s my dapper darling? That was silly of you, Monochroma. That was silly. Thinking you could steal from big brother.”

Anonymous asked: dapper did nothing, anti. he did not steal from you.

“Mm-hm, mm-hm, mm-hm,” nods Anti. “Definitely. Definitely. There you are, sugar.”

Dapper looks up from the piece of sourdough bread he’s eating, covered in golden butter. He’s sitting on the kitchen counter in Dok’s shorts and one of Blue’s t-shirts, his hair curling up from his eyes, his black eyelashes shining in the morning light. He sees the look on Anti’s face and sets his bread carefully down beside him, sitting up straight on the kitchen counter.

Anti steps forward and pulls him down by the collar until they’re nose to nose. He grins coldly at his pet, stroking the soft curls on the back of Dapper’s neck.

He leans in and puts his mouth against Dapper’s ear.

“I’m going to ask you this once,” he whispers, voice jovial and easy-going. “And you’re going to tell me. Or you won’t like the consequences very much at all. Where’s your Haldol, little mister? Huh?”

Dapper does not swallow or shake. He stares dead ahead, silent, unmoving. Trying to find a way to answer.

Anonymous asked: ??? Anti are you not HOLDING his haldol right now? What are you talking about?

“Don’t play dumb,” growls Anti, the faux pleasantry wearing off a little. “I know there was more. I have footage.”

Your screens all flash and you can see him the morning before Red stole it, sitting in his bedroom, sulking and rolling the Haldol around in his hands. “There was more of it. You disobeyed me directly. That wasn’t very clever.”

Dapper stares at him, pursing his mouth.

pine-storm-season asked: Is it not with you, anti? If it's not, i don't think Dapper knows where it is.

“No,” signs Dapper, shaking his head. “Okay, I give up. I’m sorry. I stole it.”

“So where is it?”

Dapper is stuck again, letting out a low, trembling breath.

“Unless someone else stole it for you?”

pine-storm-season asked: Red, where's Dapper's medicine? Anti's questioning him.

“Fuck fuck fuck,” whispers Red, pacing for a second before he darts out into the hall and stands in front of the kitchen, trying to get a look. Anti turns and looks right at him. He’s pressing Dapper into the back of the wall behind the counter, his hands gripping too tight at their little brother’s knees. Red feels a wave of revulsion for him and can’t even put a finger on why.

pine-storm-season asked: Anti, can you let Dapper go? I'm sure he gets the point.

“He’ll get the fucking point if he doesn’t start talking,” snarls Anti, slamming Dapper back against the wall.

There is a weak clattering as eleven more Haldol pills fall onto the table. Dapper and Anti turn to look at Red, holding out his hand.

“It was me,” he says. “Dapper didn’t have anything to do with it. Punish me, Anti, not him. He didn’t even know. He didn’t know where I hid them or that I was going to steal them. Leave him alone.”

Anti steps back from Dapper, letting him go. He stands in the middle of the kitchen, staring down at the little white pills. He pauses and turns to the sink, spitting out blood. It tastes like betrayal in his mouth. Like weakness in his mouth. He straightens up again, eyes gleaming, and Red feels a chill up his body.

“First I’m going to torture you,” he says, pointing at Red. “And then I’m going to string your little brother up to show you what happens when you work against me.”

“No! Anti, he wasn’t a part of - ”

Anti slams into Red and grabs him by the head, tearing out strands of his hair.

pine-storm-season asked: Dapper was not involved, Anti. Dapper didn't even know it was happening until it already had.

“He should have goddamn told me,” yells Anti. “He would have known the second that Red gave it to him what had happened! He thinks he can pretend he’s always so fucking innocent! He’s sneaky, I know that, you think I don’t know that? You think I don’t know, you little brat? You get it from me!”

Dapper is on Anti’s shoulder, trying to yank him off his older brother. Anti slams his elbow into his face and throws him back, dragging Red towards the stairs.

“Ro!” croaks Blue from his bedroom door. “Anti, don’t!”

“You want to be involved, you little witch? I’ll use you for goddamn kindling. Come here, Blue, I need a body.”

Blue’s eyes widen in alarm and he rushes towards the basement.

“You can’t get away from me! You all belong to me! You’ll do what I fucking say! Little traitors, little rats! You think you can outsmart me, think you can beat me down to the earth again? I’ll strip you into leather! Think Jack made you all stronger than me? Clever? More sly? I’ll rip you apart!”

bupine asked: trick? where are you? anti's upset, your brothers are in trouble. i suspect you can calm him down.

Trick is in the guest bedroom, him and Dok playing with pieces of string for Noodle to chase. He knows his brother hasn’t heard the commotion upstairs, because he looks happy and calm, laughing when Noodle leaps after his piece of string. Trick gets up and goes to the door. He hears the dull thud of someone striking the floor and steps back, looking at Dok.

“Haha, he gets so frustrated, look at his face!”

Dok is smiling, wide and calm. He hugged him when he came back downstairs and won’t stop holding his hand. He’s here. He’s okay.

His twin is okay. Sometimes the others need a little force.

“Haha,” repeats Trick flimsily. “Ah, yeah. Yeah. He’s cute.”

He shuts the door behind him and goes back to sitting with Dok.

cest-mellow asked: trick you NEED to go upstairs. anti is going to possess blue again and he’s gonna torture red. is that the force you think they deserve? all for getting dapper his medicine he NEEDS? should they be punished for taking care of one another? is this the force you agree with??

“There’s nothing I can do,” whispers Trick, pushing you away.

Anonymous asked: Trick, the scar on your hand, the sting in your cheek, he slapped Dapper right in front of you. He's not "using a little force". He's hurting them because he's angry and violent and he wants to see them in pain and no other reason! He's done the same to you and your twin for years.

Trick rubs anxiously at the burn on his hand, using his other hand to rub at Dok’s shoulder. They’re so used to casually touching each other it doesn’t even make his twin look up.

Yes. Anti has hurt him and his twin for years. But not today. Today, he is the favorite, and he can keep his zwilling safe.

Anonymous asked: Trick I need you to understand that whatever anti told you, this isn't "force" or"punishment" he explicitly used the word "TORTURE"

Trick’s face seems to break. He grits his teeth hard, shaking his head and curling in on himself.

“Hey,” murmurs Dok, looking over. “Hey, what’s wrong?”

Trick doesn’t answer. Dok glances over at you, seeing the camera flash, and takes it carefully into his hands. Within moments, he is on his feet, headed to the door.

“No, no,” cries Trick. “Stay down here, Dok.”

“What’s going on?” Dok’s voice is afraid.

pine-storm-season asked: Trick, Anti's mad because Red got Dapper his medicine, and I think he might go after Blue, who did nothing. At least calm him down so he won't hurt Blue too, okay? Blue did nothing to deserve that, even if you believe the others did.

“Shit,” hisses Dok, tearing open the door.

Trick is there, grabbing him, a second later.

Dok stares down at the hand wrapped around his bruised wrist, his heart thudding hard in his chest. Slowly, he turns to his twin. Trick’s eyes are blue flames.

“My love,” says Henrik. “It is time you start making choices about the man you are becoming.”

“Don’t go,” says Trick. “This isn’t about morality. This isn’t about me. He will hurt you again.”

Something inside Henrik’s chest breaks clean open.

“Again?”

Trick turns his eyes away.

“You knew. Or guessed, anyway. You suspected.”

Trick cannot look him in the eyes. Something in Henrik’s chest is oozing hurt. Crimson as the sun when the trees are burning.

Anonymous asked: Trick, I know how much Dok means to you. Trust me, I know how much this kills you. You just want to do what you can to keep your twin safe. But everyone else, they're your brothers, too. Red sat with you at night, y'all talked about serious stuff and silly stuff like the dorks you are. Blue sat with you after YOU attacked Dok. They don't want you to be hurt. They would try to keep Anti away if he ever wanted to "punish" you, or worse. Brothers shouldn't hurt each other, Trick. I think you can believe that if you really try. Brothers shouldn't hurt each other. And you can help.

“I don’t - I don’t want…”

Dok can’t tell if he’s stammering or just trying to find the words. Trick is looking at him. Trick’s hand rises slowly and his fingers touch Dok’s throat, wrapping loosely around, but just like the other night, Dok doesn’t protest or fight. Trick pushes him back just a little and Dok goes, hitting the wall.

“I don’t… want to be something that hurts you. Or any of them. I don’t… think brothers hurt each other?”

Henrik doesn’t know why he sounds confused, but he sees the truth still alive in his brother.

“Let me go, Chase,” he says. “Please.”

cest-mellow asked: trick, loving your brothers doesnt just mean cooked sausage and cakes and holding them in their sleep. it doesn’t just mean getting them water when their hands have been mangled and it doesn’t just mean calming them down. you have to protect them and defend them from what’s hurting them. and what’s hurting them is anti. he told red “i am going to torture you, and then string your little brother up.” protect. your brothers.

“But that - that - that’s what I want it to mean, Deutsch,” Trick says. “That’s what I want it to mean cause then nothing would ever have to change.”

“Was that happiness, Trick?” asks Dok, shaking his head. “Was that all you hoped for?”

“You besides me while I sleep? Your hands against my shoulders while I keep guard over us? You eating sausage and playing with our cat? Yes, that’s all that I hope for. That’s everything I hope for.”

Dok’s face contorts with tears, but still he smiles.

“I want better for you - for all of us - than having to live in fear all the time. I want you to want for more than my companionship. I want you to hope for things, to live for people other than me. I want you to know you’re not so worthless that you have to chase the love of someone who hurts you all the time.”

Trick shakes his head hard, tears running down his face. “He does love me.”

“I want you to find your babies again, if you can.”

“No, don’t talk about them!” cries Trick, letting go of Dok’s neck and falling back. “Stop it, Dok! My head hurts!”

“I think you do want for greater things, desperately so. I think you just pretend because you’re scared of things not staying the same. But Trick, no matter what happens, I’m here and I love you.”

“No, you’re wrong!” shouts Trick. “You’re wrong! There isn’t anything more than this for me! If you leave, if you all go, if Anti lets you escape - I’ll be alone! Don’t go! I just want you to stay. I just want everyone to stay. Stop talking about things beyond this. There’s nothing beyond this.”

“Then here we are,” says Dok, his voice raw. “But one way or another, whether or not things are changing, Blue and Red and Dapper are upstairs, about to get hurt, and it would be wrong of us not to try and help them. I’m going upstairs. Are you coming with me?”

bupine asked: trick, this is really serious. red, blue and dapper are in danger and you're anti's current favourite, so you could maybe try to help. please, trick. i know you're having fun and i'm sorry to have to intrude, but they're going to be really badly hurt. red especially. he took medicine for dapper to prevent him from going into a psychotic episode and anti's very, very angry. is there anything you can do?

“Does Dapper deserve to be without his medication? Can you call that right? Acceptable, appropriate? Do you think Red deserves to be hurt than for no other reason than that he tried to keep his youngest brother healthy?”

Trick turns away from him, shaking his head, rubbing at his temples.

Dok turns his eyes away and steps through the door.

Trick’s hand is on his wrist again, stopping him.

Anonymous asked: Henrik, stay here please. It's safer for Trick to go, yeah? Trick will help them.

“I’ll go,” says Trick. “If you stay.”

Dok’s tongue flicks out to wet his tongue. “You promise me you will try to help?”

“I promise,” says Trick. “On my life.”

He touches his hand to Dok’s chest, above his beating heart.

“On my life.”

Anonymous asked: trick, i'm worried. i know you want dok safe and protected, but you deserve to be protected too. you deserve to not hurt. and i'm worried anti will hurt you, either physically because he doesn't want you to try to help or by hynotizing you again, really badly. he's already the reason it's so hard to keep your thoughts sometimes, and to imagine better things for yourself. if you and dok are together, you can have each other's backs. your safety is not less important than dok's.

“Well, theirs isn’t worth less than mine either,” says Trick, heading up the stairs. “So if I can share the pain with them a little, or at least make it less, I will try. Or we just all get hurt. But sometimes you die with your friends instead of running away, yeah? Let Dok be Marius and I’ll be that loyal drunk-ass Grantaire. Cause you know, Grantaire didn’t ever give a damn about the revolution, not really. He just loved his friends that much. Deutsch loves that book, you know. He loves a lot of books. Nerd. I had to make him stop reading Hamlet so much, once… he would whisper the lines to Horatio when he thought I was sleeping. Had them memorized. Had the whole thing memorized. Horatio, I am killed… ah, let Dok be Horatio for a hot minute, and the rest of us all go down in pointless sword fights. But not pointless, either. Not pointless. Or that’s what Dok said.”

cest-mellow asked: thank you trick. but. please hurry.

Upstairs, Anti is already wearing Blue’s body, and any fatigue he had seems to have fallen away - to be remembered, of course, next morning, with interest added. He has Red in the bathroom upstairs, the rosey one that stinks of lotions and bathbombs, holding him over the tub to let the blood fill it up, the tub stoppered and filling with dark lines of venomously dark crimson, the lot of Dapper’s white pills scattered along the porcelain floor. Red bleeds from a deep cut in his throat, his eyes closed, his face silent. He has always survived like this - sitting as quiet as he can, not protesting, waiting for Anti’s rage to blow over. It’s the closest thing to safety he can have right now. He knows that through long years of experience.

In his head, he’s far away. Dermot Kennedy is playing. Max’s hands are at his waist. There’s still the pain, and the sticky sensations of blood and skin against his own, but they’re more bearable with the image of Max in front of him, smiling at him, swaying. He leans close and whispers something Red can’t hear. Ro tastes Starbursts.

“You think you’re better than me?” shrieks Anti, scratching Blue’s white nails down the cut in Red’s throat. “Cause he made you so perfect? You think you can disobey me? I’m the one in control now, Jackie! I’m the one who won! You’re nothing! Look at you! Pathetic! Lying there as I bleed you. I’ll teach you to try and undermine me, to try and hurt me. You’re never pulling that hero shit again. Fucking traitor. You belong to me, not him! You’re never making me mortal again!”

Dapper is slumped against the bathroom floor, unmoving, his eyes closed, a yellow bruise appearing on the whole left side of his face.

Anonymous asked: Okay. Thank you, Trick. We'll be with you, bud.

Warm arms wrap around Anti’s shoulders, pinning his arms to his chest for a second. He whirls, snarling - and Trick’s eyes, unhappy and scared, look back at him.

Jack’s eyes.

“You gotta stop, man,” says Trick, and that’s all. “You gotta stop, like, yesterday.”

Anonymous asked: Anti stop it. Dapper had nothing to do with it first of all. Second, what good is possibly going to come from torturing your two strongest when you're playing games with Dark? You're just handicapping yourself by injuring Dap or Red. Plus, it'll drive them away, make it easier for Dark to worm their way in because they have a hatred for you already.

Anti grinds his teeth so hard you do, in fact, see one fall apart. He regrows it as a fang, a deep growl thriving in his chest.

“You shut the fuck up,” he hisses. “And you get off me. Right now, Trick.”

Trick shivers, but doesn’t let go. He hides his face between Anti’s shoulder-blades, whimpering.

Anonymous asked: Anti, please leave Red be. I know you want him to suffer, and to punish him for what he did, but this could easily kill him. At least, if you will not stop, do something else to hurt him? This is going to seriously damage him, and I don't know how long it's already been happening.

“I - I wouldn’t kill him,” protests Anti in a snarl.

“You can be a little out of control sometimes,” mumbles Trick against his back. “You could.”

“Well, if I did…” Anti trails off, looking down at Dap, unconscious at his feet. No turning back til he wakes up.

Anonymous asked: please, anti?

“Please,” snarls Anti. “Please, they say. As if that… as if… please, they say. Huh.”

But his voice is getting weak and he knows it, so he shuts himself up. For a moment, there’s just Anti with his eyes closed, and Trick rubbing his hands into the muscles of his back, just like Dok always did for him. Anti leans back slightly, his head faltering onto Trick’s shoulder.

“You did used to just say that, when I was scaring you,” he says. “Like you had nothing else to say.”

Trick doesn’t know what he means. He just stands there, massaging his back. He lets one of his hands intertwine with Anti’s hair, hoping to keep him in place.

Anonymous asked: Blood loss is a dangerous thing, Anti. Red might end up struggling somewhat to survive, and he's one of your strongest. I know you wouldn't purposefully kill him, but you might not catch yourself until too late.

“You have to be careful,” agrees Trick quietly. “I don’t think this is what you meant by force.”

Anti stares down at his hands for a second, riddled in blood. He has cut throats too deeply before in the past. And he wasn’t able to amend for that.

He just wanted to feel that Red was as weak as he sometimes feels. Being weaker than Red is not an option. Not again. Never again.

But at least he has his little brother under his heel. Anti rubs distractedly at Trick’s waist, panting harshly in the cold emptiness of the bathroom.

Anonymous asked: Come on, Anti. Let's let Dok bandage Red up now, and he'll most likely survive, okay? Red has suffered enough for what he did. You beat him, yeah? Let Dok help him now.

“No, no,” growls Anti, shaking out his head, stepping away from Trick a little. “No. You don’t have any control over me. Any. You or you.”

He turns and gives Trick a dark look. His little brother makes his posture small and re-buries himself in Anti’s back, hugging him around his waist. Anti fumes, torn. Now that he’s stopped he’s a little worried that Dapper hasn’t woken up. Did he drop him that hard?

No! He shakes it off again, snarling and biting his teeth at nothing at all, because he sees threats everywhere and always, and any amount of control shared is weakness to him.

“I’ll get chain. Stay here.”

“No, please, Anti, please. Let Dok see them. And let Blue go, please.”

“Trick,” he warns, voice low and dangerous.

Anonymous asked: No one is trying to control you right now, Anti. We're scared, we're the weak ones begging at you to just not kill them. To just not hinder your assets like this. No one is trying to control you, we are literally simpering and grovelling.

Anti stares at you for a second.

Then he laughs, shaking his head, and suddenly he just looks bewildered and tired and maybe a little younger than he did a moment ago.

“I don’t… get it?” he laughs. “I don’t… I… you never stop trying to help? Fuck’s sake, I had thought you would all fall off, one by one, as you realized you couldn’t do anything. But fuck, you’ll do anything for them. What the hell? It was going to be my last little defeat over you. Not just that you lost them, not just that Jack’s story stopped. You walking away from it - giving up on them - moving on? That would have been the sweetest victory. But you never do quite go. I don’t get it…”

He drops his knife on the ground, shaking his head.

Dapper and Red said that maybe, with the timeline broken, only the people who really loved them could still remember who they are.

What does that make you?

Anonymous asked: Anti, we're asking you because you have all the control here. We don't. We're asking to let Red be helped, because we're very worried about him, but we can't do anything if you say no. I just think that Red might die if you don't let him be helped.

“But I can’t just let them go, no way,” says Anti, shaking his head and sighing. “They still gotta learn their lessons - and you pansies never like to let them sit with a little well-deserved pain. I’ll go get chain and I’ll look after them myself. Trick, don’t go anywhere. You can be a little shit too, don’t think I’ve forgotten.”

Anti paces off, running a shaky hand through his wild green hair.

Trick falls to his knees at his big brother’s side, taking Red’s face between his hands and trying to lift him up without hurting him worse. The wound bleeds heavy, but it isn’t as deep as it could be. Trick feels carefully around the cut and knows that it won’t be fatal. Dok taught him how to check. How to look after them.

“Oh, Ro, fuck, it must hurt like crazy. Are you okay? Are you with me?”

Red smiles faintly, eyes still closed. Max is kissing the side of his hair.

“I’m with you,” he whispers.

pine-storm-season asked: Anti, can you at least let Dok or someone bandage the cut on his throat? It'll still hurt just as bad, but it'll stop bleeding.

Trick tears his shirt apart without hesitation, tying the closest approximation to bandages he has without leaving this bathroom.

“Won’t be perfect, but it might slow it down a little,” he soothes.

“Ohh, no, Trick, please, I’d rather have the pain than a tight collar. I hate things rubbing against me that tight.”

Trick winces. “You might not like what Anti’s got planned for you, buddy.”

“Just check on Dap, I can take the rest…”

pine-storm-season asked: Red, hang on, buddy. You'll be okay, yeah? You'll be okay. Can we help you with anything, Red?

“I’m good, I’m good, I’m bleeding, what else do you want from me?”

Anonymous asked: ohh, man, well done trick. scary as shit. i'm glad you're okay. itll mean a lot to them that you're there and watching over them how you can, thank you.

“I don’t know that I did much at all,” says Trick. “But I think things could have been a lot worse.”

Anonymous asked: Have you noticed some of us haven't given up on /you/ either, Anti? We always mediate and try to calm you when you rage because some of us haven't given up on you either. Always searching for good somewhere in that sewage pit heart heh.

“Awww! So stupid of you!” He shape-shifts his pupils into sweet black hearts and then rolls his eyes.

pine-storm-season asked: We just want to help. Is there anything Trick can do to fix the makeshift bandages on your throat, Red?

“He, um. He put them on me! They are there and slowing down the blood loss. But if you have any ideas - ” He coughs as his voice breaks. “I am open to them. Fuck, I think I better sign.”

pine-storm-season asked: When Anti comes back, we can try to convince him to let someone bandage your throat properly. And we can talk to you unless Anti takes the cameras. Does that sound alright, Red?

“Okay, buddy,” he signs, giving you a fragile grin.

Anonymous asked: i guess just take deep breaths for now, red, buddy. keep moving that oxygen around. try not to move a lot, and focus on keeping calm. uhhh as much as you can. because, granted, shit's fucked atm

“In my family, when is shit unfucked?”

“Lie still,” begs Trick. “Come on, man.”

But the reality of what happened is beginning to hit Red. He leans back against the tub, eyes welling, and sighs as he tries to stay calm.

Anonymous asked: Feckin A+ with the heart-eyes-motherfucker move, mr. sewage pit. 10/10.

“Thanks,” answers Anti testily, taking thin chain from the drawer beside his bed.

Anonymous asked: things definitely wouldve gone way worse if you hadn't come, tricksy. you came up here to help, that's so huge. and you helped calm anti down a little, kept his focus away from them for a bit. you did a lot, trick. i'm sorry the burden was put on your shoulders but you handled it as well as you could, and i'm really really happy you didnt get hurt

“Thank you,” he says quietly. “I should have… I should have come sooner, but…”

He turns away from you, shaking his head. Not ready to talk about it.

cest-mellow asked: dapper? are you awake too?

“No, he’s out,” mumbles Trick, touching his little brother’s neck for a pulse. “Oh, tell me he didn’t…”

Turning Dapper onto his side does not make things look better. He kicked him, curled up there against the floor, until Dapper could barely breathe, and then slammed him down against the ground. Dapper is bruised black and blue, his whole body looking small and fragile, and the gash in his wrist has come open and bleeds slowly against the floor. Trick pulls his little brother to his body, hot shame washing over him. He should have come up sooner. He wasn’t going to come at all. He could have killed him. What does Anti know about ribs piercing lungs and head trauma? He reaches down to begin re-wrapping Dapper’s wrist, but then Anti is back, silver in his hands.

Anonymous asked: All this screaming about traitors and sneaks sure does make you seem... weak, honestly. Like you don't even trust that your own strings are still wrapped tight. Like come on Anti, this is the smallest ""betrayal"" that I could possibly imagine and you're having a temper-tantrum. It's okay man, chill down just a bit.

Anti’s face draws back in a snarl - an expression that is fast becoming his norm. His nails dig into his palms as he glares at you, drawing his own blood.

Anonymous asked: Heads up for a bit of maybe-too-soon humor, Red, but last time I gave blood, I got to eat starbursts after to keep my blood sugar good! So, once you all get out of this, I'll owe you some starbursts. You can eat all the pink and red ones but I demand the orange. And Max gets stuck with the yellow ones 'cause he didn't get his throat slit and he can deal with it. Very exclusive club of blood-losers-getting-yummy-candy.

“Oh, fuck yeah,” Red whispers before Anti kicks the camera away from him, scowling. You sit across the room, spun around to look back at the tub where Red is lying, coughing.

Anonymous asked: Anti, dude, are you literally so paranoid and overdramatic that Red just getting some pills for him counts as "working against you" in your brain? Calm down, man, you're making yourself look weak.

“I’ll show you goddamn ‘weak,’” hisses Anti, grabbing Red by the hair and dragging him up, to his feet, shoving him down in the tub.

“Anti!” begs Trick, but his brother ignores him. He wraps the chain tight, tight, tight around Red shoulders and legs and shoves the other side against the metal of the tub faucet, using Blue’s fire to melt the two together, chaining Red securely to the tub. Red is crying by now despite a firm, defiant smile on his mouth, his eyes squeezed tightly shut. Anti huffs out a bitter laugh and shoves his head before turning to get Dapper too.

“Don’t chain him in there, come on.”

Anti shoves Dapper’s body against Red and ties him into the chains. For a moment, Dapper, disturbed by the movement, awakens and looks dazedly up at his brother, wondering if this is real - he’s never been tied up with anything more than a little rope for as long as he can remember, and Anti hasn’t done much more than slap him around a little or, once, toss him down the stairs since his snap. Usually he’s too scared to do anything more than that. Dapper feels a thrill of alarm. Anti’s fear of Dapper snapping has finally been out-weighed by his fear of losing control over him.

“What?” bites Anti, slapping him. Dapper jolts and shivers, sinking down against Red’s body, letting himself fade away again inside the belly of the bathtub.

scunneredzombie asked: Anti, please be careful with the chains on Dapper... He could potentially have cracked ribs that could puncture his lungs with any excess pressure and kill him, and with that level of head trauma something could be seriously wrong. All I ask is that you let him see dok soon as you feel... okay with that. He could die from this, and there would be no way to fix it.

“It’s just around his neck,” sneers Anti, as if that makes things any better. He rises to his feet and beckons to Trick.

“You. Come with me.”

“Anti, I…”

“I said. Come with me. NOW, Trick.”

Trick hastens to his feet and, trembling, follows after him, casting one last look on his tired brothers, who have fallen quietly together, Dapper unconscious, Red weeping in silence, in pain.

Anonymous asked: yeah, i know, red. we can distract you, if you'd like. do you want us to do that, or to just leave you with trick?

“I… I think,” says Ro, his voice whimpering. “Um. I think I’m just going to take a nap, if that’s okay. I don’t want to be awake right now.”

aether-mae asked: Red buddy, it’s best you do that with all the brothers (minus anti) for the best results. They all need it

Best you run with all his brothers, you mean.

Not just Blue. Not just a short trip to the hospital.

Take all your brothers and run.

Ro turns his head, his breathing struggling with quiet sobs no matter how quickly he tries to bite them down.

“I was just going to take Blue away for a few days,” he cries. “And then maybe come back, if he was okay. Or find a way to get him out of here and then come back myself, to keep looking after the others. The best way to protect them has always been to weather the storm, to weather as much of it for them as I can. Always. Always.”

He turns his head as best he can, coughing on his weak throat, and if he twists his body, he can see: bruises, black and yellow, bruises and blood from the open wrist of his little brother. Tears pour down his cheeks. He rocks himself carefully in the tub, trying not to cry out aloud. Pain and fear. Pain and fear.

That’s his brother.

That’s his lonely, brave, funny, disabled, beautiful, courageous, kind, deadly, perfect baby brother.

And Anti beat him til his whole body was one big bruise.

Jackie opens his mouth and lets himself cry loud and ferocious, tears making his face hot, sobs ripping from his ripped throat. His whole chest shakes with it. He cries so hard it hurts.

“JJ, I’m going to get you out of here,” swears Jackie, pressing their heads together. “My little brother, I promise. We’re all getting the fuck out of here, and we are never coming back.”

Anonymous asked: If you torture or hurt Trick (or Dok for that matter) for doing quite literally nothing but stopping you from killing your two strongest, then I hereby proclaim you have officially lost your gourds. You've won already tonight, Anti. You've won, and they are all hurting and weak. Let it rest.

“No, no, no,” purrs Anti, drawing Trick carefully into his bedroom and putting a hand on the back of his neck, stroking gently at his hair. “No, you stopped me before I did something stupid. That was probably good, huh?”

Relief washes over Trick. He nods eagerly, touching Anti’s arm. “Yeah, I just didn’t want you to hurt anybody!”

“Innocent enough for now,” says Anti, a little bit of a growl in his voice making Trick grovel politely a little, smiling sweetly up at Anti, like a kid embarrassed but also proud to have been caught doing something both clever and against the rules. “But let’s not pretend that you didn’t let the cameras and Dok talk you into this.”

Trick’s faux innocence - a trait he is learning much as Dapper once learned it - falls swiftly away, leaving him nervous and small. “Sorry, Anti.”

“It’s okay,” sighs Anti, stroking his hair. “It’s okay. But I can’t just let this… rift in you continue. You belong to me. Not to Dok. Not to them. To me.”

Trick nods quickly, pursing his mouth and stroking his fingers along the bend of Anti’s elbow. “Okay, master, yes. I’m sorry.”

“No worries, darling. I just want you to do something for me that’s going to be good for everyone involved, alright?”

“Oh?”

Anti smiles, humming. He leans forward, knocking their foreheads together, and looks Trick dead in the eyes.

“Get those necklaces off your twin in the next three days,” says Anti, sugar-sweet, his eyes drizzling to black. “Or I will murder him in his sleep and leave his corpse in the bed beside you.”

Trick freezes solid, eyes blown wide. He looks into Anti’s eyes and finds no lies.

Not this time.

“Okay, pumpkin?” chirps Anti, pulling back. “How’s that sound?”

Trick opens his mouth to protest - and then the power of Anti’s eyes drowns him, and he hears himself giggle without any reason to laugh, and feels himself lean eagerly forward, hugging Anti earnestly to his heart, his arms wrapping deliriously around him.

“There you go,” sighs Anti, sinking back onto the bed and bringing Trick with him, holding his warm body to his chest. “There’s my Jack.”

Anonymous asked: That's okay, Red, love. You sleep. We'll do our best to keep you safe.

And Red sleeps.

Pressed to his little brother. Chained up, cold, in that bloody bathtub, agonized more by the sensation of the chains than of the cut in his throat. But he dreams of Max and safety and his siblings, and that is all that matters.

Dapper, in his sleep, shifts closer to him.

You will do your best to keep them safe. You promised.

From this point on in the story, it will be possible to permanently lose major characters.

[immabethehero]

Schneeplestein Apparently Has a Heart

The good doctor’s birthday is here and of course I wrote a story! Just warning, this story is quite dark. Read the trigger warnings below.

TW: Suicide attempt by gunshot (not seen, just implied), suicidal thoughts and words, extreme distress, minor violence, blood mentioned.

For the short amount of time that Jackieboy Man and Marvin the Magnificent have lived with Dr. Henrik Nicholas von Schneeplestein, MD, PhD, MVP, FFS, they have learned a few important lessons, or rules:

NEVER, under any circumstances, touch the top left cupboard on the outside of the kitchen opening. That’s where Schneep’s coffee supply is, and if you touch it, even ONCE, Schneep will be out for your blood.

UNDER NO CIRCUMSTANCES should you mention Schneep’s wife, Lisette Schneeplestein. Apparently, the French brunette whom Schneep has been married to for the past 7 years has fucked off (Schneep’s words) back to France with her tennis instructor, Rick, short for Ricardo (Italian, apparently) and taken their two daughters with her. (Schneep has cleaned out Lisette and the girls’ rooms, and all the belongings they have left behind, in their efforts to leave so quickly, are packed away in storage containers in the garage. Schneep has yet to mail them to Lisette’s new address.)

DO NOT wake Schneep earlier than 10 AM in the morning if it’s his one day off. Despite having an early bird’s job, Schneep is not a morning person. Another reason why Schneep is dependent on coffee.

UNLESS it is an emergency, no one but Schneep is allowed in his office. As there are so many things to keep track of, and so many papers that could easily be misplaced, it is best not to touch, or even go inside the office, lest you want to throw the doctor off his game or have the doctor throw you off a cliff.

Despite these four unspoken yet very specific rules, Marvin and Jackie have learned one more this past month: despite the doctor’s arrogant, haughty, snappy, disgusting, even FERAL demeanour, he truly is a good person.

It just took a new ego to show them that.

March 30th, 2017. Schneep’s mail has been unceremoniously thrown onto the dining room table. Schneep’s hands, long and graceful, slide through the envelopes and fliers, organizing them into piles, from taxes and business inquiries to subscriptions and sales.

Jackie lazily eats his cereal, watching Schneep sort through the mail like a madman. Geez, just how popular is this guy?! It’s almost as wild as Jack’s mail. At least there’s more interesting stuff for Jack... drawings, letters of encouragement and thanks, even the rare crocheted or sculpted gift.

Schneep freezes when he comes across a particular letter, one with a cutesy pin cupcake logo. His eyes grow solemn as he picks it up and shakily opens it. Jackie cocks his head.

“Something wrong, doctor?” he asks lightly.

Schneep looks up. “Hm? Oh!” He sighs. “It’s from a baking class Sophia and I used to take together. Lisette had insisted I learn how to cook as well, so it wouldn’t always be her making the meals, and she figured it would be good bonding for me and Sophia. Soph loved those classes. We’d learn all sorts of fascinating recipes and bring the results home. They were fun, and very sweet.”

Jackie nods seriously. He knows he should leave it there, but something’s confusing him. “It’s been quite a few months since you stopped going. Why are they sending you stuff now?”

Schneep unfolds the letter. As he reads it, his eyes widen and a smile begins curling at his lips.

Somehow, that only makes more questions. “What…?”

“It’s not the company themself, it’s Chase! He was a friend from the classes! I haven’t spoken to him in forever! He’s such a lovely person, it’d be nice to see him again!” Schneep grabs his phone and hastily types in the number at the bottom of the letter. He squeals and runs off, like a teenager who just got a text from their crush.

The letter lies on the table, open for all to read. Jackie knows better than to pry into other people’s lives, but this letter is wide open, and it’s not like Schneep needs to know, so the superhero leans over and reads.

Hey Henrik,

This is probably weird to get, but I lost your phone number and I don’t know what your address is, so I asked the dudes at the baking class if I could send a letter to you via their services.

It’s been a while since we’ve seen each other, and I thought I’d better check in and see how you’re doing, see how bachelor life is treating you. Stacy and the kids miss seeing you as well. I wanna talk to you again.

My cell is #1273-545-8903.

Hope to see you soon!

Chase Brody

Chase Brody. That sounds like an American to Jackie’s ears. He does seem like a good person, if Schneep’s reaction wasn’t enough. He must have been a friend for Schneep when the doctor went through his divorce.

The name itself sounds familiar, like a local celebrity or something. Jackie makes a mental note to look it up later. He leans back and finishes his cereal just as Schneep comes back, holding his phone out. Marvin finally emerges, his green hair resembling a rat’s nest, and no mask. Jackie takes pride in the fact that Marvin now feels comfortable enough to show his face in front of Schneep and Jackie.

“Well, change of plans, I won’t be able to come home in time for dinner with you guys,” Schneep announces. Jackie nods.

“Wait what? Why?” Marvin slurs, slumping down at the dining room table.

“I’m going to see Chase after my shift today. We agreed to meet in the park,” Schneep explains curtly, and leaves.

“Did I miss something?” Marvin asks, turning to Jackie. Jackie nods down to the letter. Marvin leans over to read, only for the letter to be snatched up by the doctor.

“Who said you could go through my stuff?!” Schneep snapped. He stormed off, letter clutched firmly in his hand. Marvin sneers at Jackie, who only shrugs and winks. The magician rolls his eyes, but he understands. A shrug and a wink means I’ll tell you later.

Schneep throws on his brown coat and grabs his bag. “Have a nice day, boys. If I don’t see you later tonight, sweet dreams and I’ll see you in the morning.” He flies out, coat flapping behind him.

“He’s gotta show me how he rocks an overcoat so well. I’m jealous of the way he holds himself. So professional,” Marvin remarks. He quickly turns to Jackie. “Spill the tea.”

“Schneep’s meeting an old friend from a baking class he used to take with his daughter,” Jackie says. “His name is Chase Brody. The name sounds so familiar to me, and I don’t know why.”

“Look it up on your phone,” Marvin suggests. Jackie does just that.

Immediately, Wikipedia comes to the egos’ rescue. Chase Brody, (born April 11th, 1988)  is an American-Irish Youtuber who is best known for his Youtube channel, Bro Average. As of February 2017, his channel has over 20 million views and over 10 million subscribers.

“Oh yeah, the trickshot vlogger!” Jackie says. “I like watching his stuff, he’s a funny dude.”

Marvin nods. “He must have kids as well.  He wouldn’t be taking classes if he didn’t.”

Jackie scrolls down to Personal Life. “‘Chase is married to Stacy Matthews, and they have three children as of 2017, two biological twins, and one recently adopted daughter.’” The selfie provided shows a man with fair skin and bright blue eyes standing next to a red-headed lady doing a duckface.

“Hm. Sounds like he’s living the good life,” Marvin says. “A well-paid job, a nice family, a happy life.”

Boy, is he wrong.

At 5 PM exactly, Schneep sits at the bench by the great oak tree, waiting for Chase. He wraps his blue and navy scarf tighter around his neck as a cool breeze whisks by. Despite what the weather people promised, Athlone is nowhere near warm, despite it being spring. He examines the park-goers who walk by, picking up on every accident that could occur.

Parents swinging their child up and down: a broken arm, arms could pull out of their sockets, or the child could fall on their head and get a concussion. Or worse, permanent brain injuries.

Kids climbing trees: Another chance to fall and hit their tiny heads and sustain brain damage, if not that, broken limbs and splinters.

Teenagers skateboarding: more broken bones and limbs, but at least SOME are smart enough to put pads and helmets on. Others have no chance of recovering fully from brain damage or concussions should they fall on their heads-

“Henrik!” Henrik snaps to life and looks around. A man wearing a puffy black jacket, torn jeans and a snapback with a pink skull on it runs over to him. Schneep stands up.

“Chase Brody! Wie geht es dir mein freund?” Schneep cries out in delight, holding his arms out. Chase happily throws himself into them.

“I’m doing as well as I can, at least. It’s so good to see your face,” Chase sighs. He nuzzles Henrik’s hair, taking in the sanitizer and mint smell he’s gotten used to. “I’ve missed you.”

“The feeling is mutual,” Schneep says. “Come, sit down next to me! Tell me how things have been.  How are Stacy and your kids? Has Chloe adjusted to the new timezone yet?” Chloe is Chase’s recently adopted daughter from China. Schneep’s last visit with the Brody’s involved meeting her.

Chase’s smile fades and he sits down next to Schneep. “Um…”

Schneep’s stomach sinks. “That’s never good. What happened? Who died?!”

“Calm down, Henrik!” Chase exclaims. “No one died! Everyone’s fine. Chloe’s adjusted quite nicely.”

“Then why do you look so sad?!” Schneep cries.

Chase fidgets with his jacket zipper, mumbling incomprehensibly. Henrik leans closer. “Didn’t catch that.”

“StacyandIaregettingadivorce,” Chase whispers. Schneep’s stomach flips and sinks.

“What?”

“Stacy and I are getting divorced,” Chase repeats, louder now. “She said she still loves me, but not quite in a… romantic way, I guess. She wants us to just be friends.”

“Well, at least she still wants to be on friendly terms, I guess!” Schneep says. “Still, I can’t believe it… you two were such a sweet couple… so in love…”

“There’s another reason why she wants a divorce,” Chase admits. Schneep’s eyes turn wide as saucers.

“She’s seeing someone. An old friend from high school. I’ve seen her texts,” Chase says. He scrunches up the end of his shirt, nose wrinkling. Schneep hears him sniff.

“I don’t know how long it’s gone on… and I know she didn’t mean to… but still…” Chase finally looks up, eyes tearing. “How could she do that? I would have been okay with it! Maybe. I don’t know!” Chase buries his face in his hands.

Schneep pats Chase’s shoulder gently. He can’t believe Stacy cheated! She and Chase were such a romantic couple! They seemed so happy! Why would Stacy throw that all away for some whore? “What a bitch…”

Chase suddenly whacks Schneep’s hand off, eyes fierce. “Don’t call her that! It’s not like that!  At least she still wants me in her life! She’s not like Lisette!” An awkward silence fills the air.

Chase gasps. “Henrik, I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean it that way-”

“Oh!” Schneep cries. “It’s fine! It’s no big deal!” Yeah, that was a low blow, but he would rather Chase doesn’t end up like him: cranky, alienating, friendless, alone. He needs a friend more than ever.

“No it’s not, I just sunk really low! You must be furious-”

“I’m not, I promise!” He’s not, surprisingly. Is this growth?! What the fuck?!

“I need to control myself better. I’m a grownup, for fuck’s sake, I should know better…” Chase moans, burrowing his head in his hands again.

“Chase!” Schneep exclaims. “You mustn’t beat yourself up like that! You’re one of my very best friends, which isn’t saying much because I don’t have any, but still! You have to be one of the nicest people I know! You’re anything but a dick!”

“I feel like you’re just saying that to make me feel better,” Chase mumbles, rubbing his eyes.

“I’m not, I swear !” Schneep says.

“I’m sorry, Henrik, I really am,” Chase says.

“I forgive you,” Schneep says, and means it. “I’m serious.”

“I should go,” Chase decides, standing. Schneep gets up as well.

“What? No! I’m not mad!” he protests.

“It’s my turn to pick the kids up,” Chase snaps. “I’ll see you around, Henrik. Sorry I can’t stay long.” He briskly runs off.

Schneeplestein yells and kicks the bench. “FUCK! FUCK! AAAHHH!!!”

Other park visitors turn in confusion, watching the strange man kick the bench and scream.

Schneep freezes when he notices everyone staring at him. He storms back to his car, slams the door shut and continues his screaming.

Once Schneep has finished “releasing his anger” (Jackie’s words, not his) he “reflects on the situation” (also Jackie’s words). What could he do to make Chase feel better?

He stays in the car for an hour, letting the world pass by as he thinks. By the time the sun has set, he has an idea.

Jackie and Marvin glare at each other from across the hall. Sirius the cat has hidden, choosing not to get involved. The little pegs in the cribbage board are neck-in-neck, both pegs exactly 4 steps away from the end hole. The egos stare at their cards.

“Four,” Jackie announces, putting the card down.

“Fourteen,” Marvin says.

The door flies open and Schneep rushes in, hair windswept and out of breath. “Where’s Jack?!” he demands.

“Out in his universe,” Jackie responds. “Fifteen for two!” He puts down an ace.

“Sixteen for two!” Marvin slams the ace down, looking triumphant. Jackie flips him off.

“When will he visit?!” Schneep questions.

“When he wishes,” Jackie responds. “Twenty-five!”

“How can I contact him?!”

“Why are you so interested?!” Marvin asks. “Thirty-one, bitch!” He flips Jackie off.

“I have a request for him!” Schneep responds curtly. 

“What kind?” Jackie asks.

“It’s for a friend,” Schneep brushes him off, heading to his lab.

“Chase Brody?” Marvin guesses. Jackie kicks him.

Schneep turns around. “What did you say?”

Marvin gulps. “You left your letter on the table for me to read. I was fast enough to catch the gist before you snatched it up. So how is Chase Brody?”

Schneep growls softly and walks back to the table. Marvin sits up with his head held high, bracing himself for the punishment. No matter what Schneep does, slugging, kicking, ruining his hair, the magician can take it.  He’s been through worse.

To Marvin and Jackie’s surprise, Schneep pulls up a chair and sits down. The doctor takes a deep breath. “Chase Brody is divorcing his wife. That’s all I’m going to say.”

Jackie and Marvin nod in understanding. “That’s sad to hear,” Jackie remarks, solemnly.

“But how’s talking to Jack going to help?” Marvin queries.

“I want him to make a video for Chase,” Schneep says. “If this so-called community exists, I want to see them show their love for Chase! It’s the least he deserves!”

Marvin and Jackie catch each other’s gaze. Schneep glares at Jackie expectantly.

“Well? You’ve lived with Jack the longest. How do you contact him?!” Schneep demands.

“I have his number in case of emergencies, but I’ve never had a reason to call him! I don’t even know if he’s available,” Jackie explains.

“He has to be.  What else does a man who plays video games for a living do?!” Schneep snaps, incredulous. “It’s not like he has to be places or anything!” He looms over Jackie, a desperate, pleading look in his eyes. Jackie nearly topples out of his chair.

“I guess I could give it a shot,” the superhero mumbles.

Schneep squeals in delight and wraps his arms tightly around Jackie in what Jackie assumes to be a hug. The superhero pats the doctor’s arms, taken aback by his strength.

After a few sickeningly sweet seconds, Marvin pipes up, “Uh, doc? I think Jackie needs to be able to breathe in order to call Jack.”

Sheepishly, Schneeplestein lets Jackie go. The superhero gulps in big gasps of air, before grabbing his phone and dialing Jack’s number.

A day later, Jack McLoughlin sits at the egos’ dining room table, chomping away on mashed potatoes and a juicy steak.

“My goodness, you never told me what a good chef you were, Schneep!” he sighs in ecstasy.

Schneep bows his head, face glowing red. Jackie raises an eyebrow. Schneep almost NEVER blushes when given a compliment. It’s strange to see the doctor act so shy and humble around someone, especially Jack. It feels like only yesterday Schneep was bombarding Jack with questions about where he came from and how the alternate universe worked. Since that day, Jack has quickly risen to become one of Schneep’s favourite people on the planet. Not that Jackie is jealous or anything…

“Just a little recipe I learned for my wife…” Schneep mutters, playing with the end of his lab coat. Across the table, Marvin snickers lightly, watching the doctor fumble for words. Finally, some entertainment!

“So, what was the call for?” Jack asks. “Just wanted to say hi?” His expression darkens. “Is it Anti? What did he do?!”

“It’s not Anti.  We haven’t heard from him for a while!” Jackie says. Jack sighs in relief.

“I mean, I know I made that video for PAX and all but I just wanted to make sure,” Jack says.

“You made an Anti video for PAX?!” Marvin cries. “Why?”

“Because the fans would enjoy it! Also because I was running out of ideas for what to do for an opening,” Jack admits. “It just seemed like the right amount of fun and originality without being too over the top!”

“When is Anti not over the top?” Jackie scoffs. That earns a laugh from the others.

“Actually, it’s Schneep who has a question for you,” Marvin says.

Jack turns to Schneeplestein. Schneep’s smile disappears. He looks around the table, watching everyone’s gaze. He grins nervously at Jack.

“Could I ask you in private? This stuff… it is… personal.”

“Sure. Let’s go,” Jack says, standing up. Schneep follows after him.

In the upstairs hallway, Schneep spills everything. He explains who Chase is, what’s going on in his life, and how he believes making Chase an ego could help his situation.

“Make another ego? Oh god, I’m having enough trouble managing you all right now,” Jack admits.

“All you have to do is make one video. The fans can do the rest,” Schneep presses.

“How?”

“By showing their love for Chase! He’s a funny and sweet guy! Your fans would love him!”

“How will the community’s love help a man struggling with a divorce?” Jack questions.

“Their love will lift his spirits and he will feel more confident and happy! You said you noticed a difference in us after the community made content of us! If that is really true, then I want to see them show their love for Chase. It’s the least he deserves!”

Jack is silent, contemplating the pros and cons. Finally, he sighs and says, “Can you show me what he usually does?”

Schneep types something into his phone. He logs onto Youtube and types a channel name into the search bar. Bro Average.

“Bro Average? Is that a parody of Dude Perfect?” Jack asks, chuckling.

“Well, it’s because there’s only one person performing every stunt, and because it’s less... professional than the other channel,” Schneep explains. “For example-”

The video shows Chase at a park, holding a Nerf gun and wearing a goofy grin. “Sup, guys! I’m Chase, and welcome to Bro Average!” He shoots a nerf dart off-screen, only for it to crash into something, invoking a cat screech. Chase pretends to be startled.

It flashes forward to Chase in a tree. “This one’s called, ‘Multitasking’!” He hangs off a branch while trying to knock over six cups stacked up on each other with darts. Jack can’t stop snickering at Chase’s antics, as he wobbles and threatens to lose his balance. Chase yelps and squeals, and a few times, swearing can be heard, though it’s censored by loud beeps. Finally, Chase hits his target, just as the branch snaps. Chase whoops with glee as he crashes onto the ground, the branch smacking into his head. His cameraman runs over to him, worried, but Chase is rolling on the ground in laughter as tears run down his face.

“He is not nearly as good as the professionals, but his humour and authenticness bring in the fans,” Schneep says, smiling.

“He sounds like a blast!” Jack takes the phone and begins to skim through Chase’s videos. “I bet I could make something work! I’ll borrow an office space, bring a couple friends and film a few shots! Can’t be that hard!”

“So you will do it?!” Schneep cries.

“Absolutely! Give me a couple days and it will be ready!”

Schneep cheers and engulfs Jack in a bear hug. Jack laughs and pats his friend’s back. It’s nice to see the doctor open up at last to his new roommates and creator, and so quickly, as well. Jack decides Schneep can be rewarded for his good nature by granting his wish and helping out a new friend.

A few weeks pass. Schneeplestein schedules more visits with Chase. The two fathers laugh and chat, learning more about each other and discussing whatever they please without the worry of kids hearing. Schneep feels his spirits lift whenever he sees Chase’s snapback and hears his cheerful voice.

In the night, a familiar sensation returns to the egos’ dreams. Sounds of a Nerf gun, kids laughing and on the rare occasion, a man crying fills the egos’ heads as they sleep. Schneep feels his heart break when he hears Chase’s cries. He hopes this video will help Chase. It has to.

April 11th, 2017. The egos are gathered around the dining room table, Jack’s Youtube account open on his laptop. 

Jack idly sits at the centre, waiting for Schneep to arrive with Chase. Marvin and Jackie play another round of cribbage, and this time Jackie seems to be way ahead on the board, much to the magician’s dismay.

“I’m going to be skunked! I hate this game so fucking much!” Marvin gripes, as he receives two points for his math efforts.

Jackie snickers as he counts his cards. “This takes both luck and skill. You’re a fast learner, Marv.  I’m sure you’ll pull through soon.”

“Not soon enough,” grumbles Marvin as Jackie moves his peg 16 points.

The door opens and Schneep walks in with Chase Brody right behind him. Compared to the laughing man with the warm aura in Google Images, this Chase looks cold and kind of grumpy.

“Chase, this is Jack McLoughlin, our ‘creator’ and a wonderful man,” Schneep introduces. Jack awkwardly holds his hand out for a shake. Even though he’s seen versions of himself several times this past year, it’s still rather unnerving to be given death stares by himself but with yellow hair, snapback and a fair share of freckles.

“Jack, this is Chase Brody, your newest ego and the face of Bro Average!” Schneep continues. Chase raises an eyebrow.

“Ego? Like alter ego?” Chase turns to the others, and realizes that they share the same hair and face. “Oh... my... dog. Am I a fictional character?! Is this a character intervention with the narrator?! Whatever happened, I promise, I didn’t do it! Sally encouraged me to eat the worm!” Chase kneels before Jack, cowering and whimpering.

Jack chuckles nervously. “Relax, Chase! Technically, you are a fictional character-” Chase shrieks in alarm.

“But only in another universe. You’re very much a real person in this one,” Schneep concludes, helping Chase up by the arm. Chase shakes the doctor off and Schneep tries his best to hide his hurt.

“To put it simply, some of the videos on my channel don’t exist in this universe. This is because they’re about you… egos,” Jack recites. “You’re the most recent ego, however, your video and beginnings are a bit different because I already had some course material to go off of.”

Jack clicks play on the video. Chase sits down and gasps as Jack-as-Chase flies around the office, performing trickshots and screaming like a toddler who drank too much apple juice. Is… is this him?! The accuracy! Holy shit! They even got his bloopers right! Creepy!!! Is he being stalked?!

Schneep watches from afar, fidgeting with his lab coat. Chase hasn’t moved once since the video started. He doesn’t look angry… but at the same time, he doesn’t seem to be enjoying his Power Hour. Truth be told, it’s not like the Doctor particularly likes his Power Hour either. Jack didn’t have to go and mention his cheating wife… or the fact that Peter did die at one point… Nonetheless, Chase is just sitting there, with wide eyes.

Jack, on the other hand, is already regretting what he did. Perhaps he emphasized too much on the “Not-As-Professional-Or-Successful” part. Maybe he made Chase too goofy or not as three-dimensional as he could have. The Youtuber catches a glimpse of the screen. Oh no. It’s the part with-

“Stacy, please, I know, I’m trying to get all the shots, look, just please don’t take the kids!” Jack-as-Chase pleads. Schneep and Jack-in-the-flesh turn white as a ghost. Chase frowns.

“This one’s called, ‘I’m Staying At My Sister’s This Weekend’!” Jack-as-Chase announces. It flashes back to him on the phone. “Well, I don’t care what your sister says! Just please! At least let me see them on the weekend still!”

Jack scratched his neck nervously and teethed on his knuckles, face beet red. Chase looks horrified. Schneep looks just as worried. Marvin and Jackie awkwardly stand up to leave.

Chase pauses the video just as Jack-as-Chase sobs. He takes a deep breath and turns to face his “creator”. “So… are you the reason my wife and I are getting a divorce?”

Jack gapes, taken aback by Chase’s accusation. He doesn’t want to throw Schneep under the bus, but at the same time, Chase wasn’t exactly “created” like the others-

“Not exactly!” Schneep interferes. “It… it was my idea. I thought if I got Jack to make a tribute video in honour of you, it would help you!”

“Help me?!” Chase laughs, a harsh and cold sound compared to his whoops and chuckles in his videos. “How?! By running my wife’s name through the dirt?!” Jack flinches.

“Fair enough,” Schneep says with a groan. “I should have been more specific when I said divorce and kids.”

“You told-?!”

“I thought if you knew you had a big name on your side you’d feel better! It was supposed to be a little treat!” Schneep counters.

“Oh, what am I, a little pity party to you?” Chase snaps. “My divorce was private information, Schneep.  Why else did you think I wanted to talk to you alone?! Now the whole world knows and Stacy’s going to be treated horribly because of you shits-”

“Not the whole world!” Schneep exclaims. “Just… all… of Jack’s world.”

“Shut up,” Chase hisses. “I don’t care that there’s more than one universe. So be it. What I care about is the fact that you betrayed my trust and now people are going to treat Stacy like she was a freaking bitch. This may come as a surprise to both you and Jack, but not all women are cheating whores like Lisette, asshole!”

SMACK. Chase cries out. The egos and Jack huddle together. Schneep’s breathing slows as he registers the sting in his hand and Chase rubbing his red cheek.

Schneep takes a deep breath, and in chilling, low, icy words, he snarls, “Don’t ever say her name again.”

Chase recovers from the slap and storms over to the door. “Whatever. You know what?! Stay away from me and whatever’s left of my family. I don’t care if I’m a part of your ‘creator’s’ story or whatever, I JUST WANT YOU OUT OF MY LIFE.” Chase grabs his coat and slams the door shut with a loud BANG. Schneep remains at the dining room, breathing unsteadily, vision somewhat blurry.

“Doctor? Are you alright?” Jackie whispers, reaching a hand out.

“DON’T TOUCH ME!” Schneep runs upstairs to his room and slams the door. Muffled sobs soon echo down the hallway.

Jack’s heart breaks in two. He really thought this video was a good idea. Somehow, all it brought was pain. He sighs defeatedly and slumps down at the table. Marvin closes the laptop.

“Shit… that was awful…”

“And it was supposed to be Chase’s birthday present!” Jack moans. “Ahhhhh, I feel like an asshole… I shouldn’t have been so mean…”

“It’s not your fault…” Jackie soothes. “You made an assumption and played it with satire. Schneep shares some of the blame as well. He should have kept that part quiet.”

“And I should have kept that out of the video…” Jack sighs. “Now Chase feels even worse about the divorce and he wants nothing to do with us…”

Jackie and Marvin sit down beside Jack and rub his back. Jack sighs again and rests his head on the table.

Upstairs, Schneep screams into his pillow, tears finally flowing. He hates himself and Chase and everything that’s happened. That’s what he gets for helping a friend. Ungrateful bastard-

No. Schneep should have known better! That was private information, he had no right poking his nose in and telling everyone. Well, it was just one person, but still! Now Chase never wants to speak to him again and he’s lost the only friend he’s had in a while and everything sucks and he just wants to curl up and die. Schneep pulls his hair and screams again. He can’t sleep, but at the same time, he can’t do anything else. So he remains in bed, crying and thinking. Eventually, long into the night, he falls asleep, cheeks wet and eyes sore.

Schneep wakes up feeling like absolute shit. His cheeks are somewhat sticky and damp. He must have been crying in his sleep. His stomach feels awful. But it’s a work day, so he gets out of bed.

Schneep stumbles into his ensuite bathroom and splashes cold water on his face. He shudders when he sees his reflection. Grey skin, messy hair, red eyes. He doesn’t smell so good either. Sighing sadly, Schneep throws off his clothes and turns on the shower faucet.

When he hops out of the shower, he puts on his scrubs and grabs his spare labcoat. He trudges downstairs, where Marvin is waiting with fluffy chocolate-chip pancakes on the table.

“Morning, doc,” Marvin greets cheerfully. His smile fades when he sees Schneep’s ashen face. “Everything alright?”

“I’m fine,” Schneep replies hoarsely.

“I made you some coffee,” Marvin continues. “I know you like it.”

Schneep grunts softly and pours himself a large cup. As he drinks he heads to the hook of keys by the front door, only to find-

“Where are my keys?” Schneep asks, staring at the space where his car keys used to hang.

“I saw Sirius knock them off earlier,” Marvin replies, flipping through the nearest magazine. “I tried to catch her, but she’s so fast.”

“Where is she right now?” Schneep inquires, trying to sound as calm as possible.

“Beats me. I can’t control her,” Marvin says calmly.

Schneep growls and pounds on the table. Marvin jumps slightly, but quickly recovers and goes back to his reading.

“This isn’t funny, Marvin.  I need to get to work!” Schneep snaps. “I’m already falling behind schedule.”

Marvin snorts, looking up from the magazine. “You think you’re fit to go to work? Your face is bright pink, you’ve got large shadows under your eyes and I heard you crying for who knows how many hours last night.”

“I have allergies! They were just acting up!” Schneep snaps.

“Oh, really? Allergies? That’s rich coming from the man who claims to have ‘the strongest immune system in the world’!” Marvin scoffs.

“Even the strongest immune systems have off days, okay?!”

“That doesn’t even make any sense! Henrik, are you even hearing yourself?!”

Schneep fights back more tears. “Marvin, please, tell me where the keys are! I can’t be late for work!”

“And you won’t be! I called the hospital and asked them to give you a day off!” Marvin says.

Schneep almost drops his mug. “You… you did what?!”

“I told them it was a family emergency,” Marvin admits. “And that we didn’t know how long it would be. They understood, told me to tell you to take as many days off as you need.”

“Which is none,” Schneep scowls. “I’m fine.”

“No you’re not.”

“Yes, I am!”

“Henrik, you said you didn’t want Chase to go through his divorce alone and friendless, like you. You’re going through a tough time right now.  The last thing you need is to be alone.”

Schneep gapes at the magician, tears threatening to fall. Marvin stares back, heart thumping loudly. He prays he didn’t say the wrong thing. He hopes this works.

Maybe it’s because he didn't get enough sleep, or maybe it’s because he’s never had anyone be so concerned for his well-being that they screwed up his schedule, but Henrik finally lets his anguish go, and collapses, bawling like a little baby. Marvin gets down from his seat and wraps his arms around the doctor, soothing him and singing softly.

Jackie finally emerges from the bathroom, and joins the cuddle pile in the kitchen. As Henrik finally slumps completely into Marvin’s arms, he and the superhero high-five and move the sleeping doctor into the living room for a day of Netflix and cuddles.

Five days pass. Henrik sits at his desk, tapping his pen. In front of him is the start of a letter, with only the words “Dear Chase,” written on it.  He needs to apologize to Chase, but just doing it by text seems insensitive. So written letter it is! Now… where to start…

Dear Chase,

I’m sorry. What I did was wrong and there’s no way to excuse my behaviour. I really believed I was doing the right thing by telling Jack, but I should have known better than to air dirty laundry.

The doctor shakes his head and crumples up the page. He can do better than that. Now to start over-

His phone begins playing the familiar sound of a monitor beeping. He really needs to change his ringtone.  It’s too painful to hear after all the dead patients that came with it.

Henrik freezes when he notices the name. Chase. Why is he calling? Heart thumping and hands shaking, Henrik picks up the phone.

“Hello? Chase?”

“H-hi, d-doc…” Chase answers in a raspy whisper. The sound of sniffling is not lost on Henrik.

“Chase? Are you okay?”

“Not really…” Another sniffle. “But I will be… soon.”

“What do you mean?”

“I’m sorry for all the shit I said… It was wrong of me to bring up your own divorce… I-I shouldn’t have been so harsh…”

“No, Chase, I’m sorry! I shouldn’t have brought up your divorce in the first place! I thought I was doing good by telling Jack, but he clearly misinterpreted it. I shouldn’t have mentioned it…”

“It’s alright… you were just trying to make me feel bet-better… I just overreacted… I overreact to eve-everything… I’m such a bay-baby.” Chase sounds like he’s holding back tears.

“No you’re not. You had every right to be mad… I’m sorry for slapping you. How’s your cheek?”

Schneep hears Chase chuckle softly. “It’s fine… It doesn’t hurt as much as other injuries…” The laugh turns into a sob.

“Other injuries?! What do you mean?!” Henrik demands. “Chase, you’re worrying me!”

“I’m sorry… I can’t seem to do anything right… All I do is upset people…” Chase is outright crying now.

“Chase, please tell me where you are,” Henrik pleads, getting up. “I need to make sure you’re okay!”

“No… I don’t think you’ll want to see this…” Chase mumbles. He takes a deep but shuddery breath. “I have to go. Goodbye, Henrik.”

“Chase?! CHASE?!” Henrik screams. The phone line goes dead. Henrik yelps and quickly rushes into his contacts. He finds Stacy’s name and calls her.

She answers on the first ring. “Henrik? It’s been so long! How are you?”

“Where is Chase right now?”

“What?”

“Where is he living?”

“What’s going on? What did he say to you? Is he okay?”

“Call 999. I don’t believe so.”

Henrik hangs up and dashes out of his office, up the stairs and to the front door, where he grabs his keys and coat. Marvin and Jackie sit at the kitchen island, both on their phones.

“Henrik? What’s going on?”

“I have to go to the hospital. I’ll be back,” Henrik answers curtly. He throws on his coat and leaves.

Henrik runs into the hospital and quickly signs himself in. A nurse comes by and squeaks in surprise when she sees him.

“Dr. Schneeplestein? What are you doing here? Isn’t today your day off?”

“Time is broken, Cass,” Dr. Schneeplestein replies. He dashes off to the emergency room. Cass quickens her pace, trying her best to catch up to him.

“Have there been any emergencies yet?” Schneep demands.

“I think an ambulance is arriving soon-” Cass begins.

“Who’s the patient?” Schneep asks.

“A man attempted suicide-” Cass starts.

“I’ll treat him,” Schneep announces.

The doors open and medics rush in, driving a man on a gurney. Schneep pales when he sees red. The good doctor swallows his fear and tears. Now is not the time to be a baby. He’s not called the good doctor for nothing. Time to save Chase’s life.

Hours later, five nurses come in to find Dr. Schneeplestein exhaustedly sobbing against the wall, shoulders convulsing as he cries into his hands. On the gurney lies a man with yellow hair poking out of a large bandage wrapped around his head. The monitor beeps rhythmically, and the man’s chest rises and falls slowly. So why is the doctor crying?

Three nurses wheel Chase out while the other two bend down next to Schneep. One nurse, Kate, tentatively places a hand on his shoulder. He jumps in shock.

“Schneeplestein? Are you alright?” Kate asks.

Schneep smiles shakily. “He’ll live…” He shivers and whimpers. “Oh god… so much could have happened… So much could have gone wrong… I thought I lost him a few times...” the doctor breaks off with another sob.

“Why don’t you head home? Today is your day off,” Kate suggests.

“In a little while… I need to speak to the patient first…” Schneep replies in a raspy voice. Kate nods. She and the other nurse, Matt, help the doctor up. His legs wobble and almost give out. Schneep takes a deep breath and slowly  makes his way out of the operating room and into his office.

An hour later,  Henrik reappears, wearing his comfy labcoat and drinking some tea, a rarity considering how much the doctor prefers coffee. But he needs to relax, and so Matt whipped up a nice cup of tea.

Henrik pulls up a chair and sets his cup down. He looks down at the sleeping man, face as white as the bandage wrapped around his head. Chase has never looked more fragile and vulnerable. His cheeks are sunken and there are large bags under his eyes.

Henrik rubs his face. Truthfully, he’s just as tired. He looks up at the clock. 1:11 am. God, he was in the operating room for quite a while. He doesn’t think he’ll ever be as stressed as he was today. He leans back and closes his eyes. Maybe he can get a quick nap before-

“Dr. Schneeplestein?” He opens his eyes and looks up. His stomach flips when he notices a woman with red hair that falls in waves down her shoulders.  Her soft brown eyes are full of compassion and worry. Stacy Brody. Or Stacy Matthews, to be more precise.

“Stacy…” Henrik mumbles. “What… I mean, I’m sorry. I understand this must be a lot for you.”

“I can’t believe it… I mean, I knew about his depression, I just didn’t think it would get this bad,” Stacy says, voice soft and sad.

Henrik nods. “Yes. One can’t help but wonder what the breaking point was.”

“It’s because of me, isn’t it?” Stacy whispers hoarsely, staring down at her ex-husband’s skinny frame. “I did cheat on him. I told him I wanted a divorce after he found out… I wonder what would have happened if I told him straight up about Delilah… I wonder how he would have reacted…”

Henrik is speechless. He can’t really say it isn’t her fault, but at the same time, it wasn’t as if she could straight up tell him. There really was no way of telling how he would have reacted. Henrik groans and rubs his eyes again. He can’t think straight.

His mind flickers back to the video, and his stomach sinks. Did that video… influence his decision? Should he tell her about it? Would she be mad? He takes a deep breath.

“I mentioned your divorce to another friend,” he finally says. “Said friend made a video that I think mocked Chase more than flattered him. I thought it would help… but it didn’t. Only made him even more upset.”

“A video? Was this the video that ‘Jack’ made?” Stacy asks. Henrik opens his eyes, horrified. How long has she known?! Oh god, she must despise him! Henrik whirls around to face her, face riddled with guilt.

“I’m so sorry. I didn’t think he’d take it in that direction- It was a shitty idea, I was so invasive and it was absolutely despicable of me and-”

“Hey, calm down, it’s okay! It was an honest mistake!” Stacy responds calmly. “Chase told me about it. He felt awful and he was so pissed with you guys. I will admit I was a bit peeved at first, but Chase said he yelled at you and broke off his friendship with you, so I figured it was punishment enough.”

“He also brought up my wife,” Henrik says. “So I punched him.”

Stacy nods. “Ah, that’s where the bruise came from.”

Henrik cringes. Damn, did he actually hit Chase that hard? He really is a dick. He sighs and stands up. “You are more than welcome to punch me. I deserve it. I never should have brought up the divorce. It was hateful of me, really.”

Stacy shakes her head. “Oh no, I couldn’t! You saved Chase from the brink of death. It’d be so insensitive of me!”

“I insist.” Henrik holds his head up. Stacy reluctantly stands up, and raises an open palm.

“I’m sorry,” she squeaks.

“It’s fine, I can handle it,” Henrik says.

Stacy takes a deep breath… and punches him. Henrik falls back into the chair from the force. Stacy cringes.

“You… have a very strong punch,” Henrik remarks, holding his throbbing cheek. He holds a finger up when he sees her mouth move. “Don’t apologize. You were right to do so.”

“I took karate as a kid,” Stacy boasts. “I won a black belt at age five.”

“Good for you! To be honest, it wasn’t nearly as hard as my wife’s,” Henrik admits.

“Well, at least I got my ‘revenge’- wait, what?!” Stacy does a double take. “Lisette used to punch you?!”

“She only did it once,” Henrik quickly adds. “After I called her a whore.”

“Oh. That explains a lot,” Stacy deadpans.

“I deserved that as well,” Henrik says. “I just wish she hadn’t moved so far away… I wonder how the girls are doing...”

“Have your children contacted you?” Stacy lightly presses.

“I’ve tried to contact them,” Henrik says. “I don’t think Lisette lets them write or call me.”

“Then Lisette really is an ass,” Stacy explodes. “What if they do want to talk to you? She can’t hide them from you just because she doesn’t like you.”

“That doesn’t seem to stop her. I keep my phone nearby in case Sophia calls when her mother isn’t around.” Henrik pats his pocket. “Or maybe Rick will let her. He’s quite nice and he’s good with kids, which is why I was quite surprised when he turned out to be-”

“A homewrecker?” Stacy suggests. Henrik glares at her, scandalized, but she can tell he’s trying to suppress a smile.

“Sorry,” she mumbles, snickering.

“I was gonna say an ass, but that’s better,” he says. Stacy bursts out laughing, but it quickly fades when she notices Chase. She clears her throat.

“I’m going to take the kids away for a while,” she reveals. “At least until he’s emotionally stable to look after the kids.”

“You know Chase would never let his depression get in the way of being a good father,” Henrik protests.

“I know. I just feel he needs a break from it all,” Stacy says. “Mostly family life, me and Delilah in particular. Maybe she and I could go to my cottage in Scotland. We can stay there until he feels ready to share custody once more. He can’t be alone, though. We know what will happen if he does. He can’t go back home either. We still need to wash out the blood and dispose of any guns he might have. Of course I mean the real guns, but he might not want his Nerf toys either. He needs to be with someone , and that can’t be me. I just don’t know anyone he could stay with who lives in Athlone. We only just moved here.”

Henrik lights up. Holy shit. It’s like destiny! This is the perfect opportunity! “He can move in with us. He’s already an ego. He’d love it there. Sure it’s a bit chaotic, but I think he’d love it!”

Stacy raises an eyebrow. “What sort of chaotic?” she questions.

“The local superhero likes to crash there, we have a magician who INSISTS on using us for test subjects for his latest tricks, and me, the ‘feral doctor’,” Henrik lists off. “Come to think of it, I’m actually the voice of reason.”

Stacy tries her best to hide a shudder. “I feel a little worried about his safety. And no offense, but it’s a bit concerning that you’re the voice of reason in that house.”

Henrik scoffs in mock insult and shoves her gently. “Oh screw you! To be honest, Jackie is actually the smart one. I’m the one who pays the taxes and keeps a roof over their head. They’re the ones who overstayed their visit.”

Stacy rolls her eyes, but she’s smiling. She looks more relaxed than when she walked in. She stands up.

“I think it’s time I left. Good luck, Chase. I wish you all the best with your recovery.” Stacy leans over and gently kisses Chase’s cheek before turning to Henrik and holding her hand out. Henrik returns it and gives it a small squeeze, only to be pulled in for a hug. He gasps in surprise.

“Thank you Henrik,” she whispers. Henrik nods and returns the hug, holding her tightly until she signals to let go. Stacy picks up her bag and leaves.

Henrik sits back down and takes out his cellphone to call the egos. Jackie picks up after the first ring.

“Henrik? Are you okay?”

“I want you to clean the house and make some hot chocolate. We’ve got a new roommate coming to stay with us!” Henrik announces.

“Is it Chase? Is that who we’re taking in?” Jackie asks.

“Yes. I want everything to be perfect, so go! Get cleaning!” the doctor commands.

“Need us to pick you up?” Marvin suggests.

“I can drive just fine! See you soon!” Henrik hangs up just as Chase begins to stir. The doctor watches him apprehensively. He hasn’t seen Chase since the argument. How will he react?

Chase groggily opens his eyes. He can see a bright light shining down on him and closes his eyes. “Where… where am I?”

He slowly attempts to sit up. A soft pair of hands gently help him sit up and rub his back. 

Chase blinks, trying to clear his vision. The blurry blue shape slowly comes into view… Henrik! The good doctor sits beside him with an anxious expression on his face.

Chase wracks his memory to try to remember what had happened. He can feel a heavy fabric wrapped around his head. He lifts a hand to better investigate… oh.

Henrik’s heart breaks when he sees Chase drop his hand, expression forlorn. Here we go, he thinks.

“Chase?” Chase looks up. “Before you say anything, know that you have every right to be mad at me and Jack. What we did was despicable and absolutely awful. You don’t have to forgive us, and I completely understand if you never do. But you can’t be alone right now. You’re going through a really tough time, and the last thing you need to be is alone. I don’t know if you’ll accept it, but we have an extra room at home that would be a perfect spot for you to stay while you recover. I know you might not want to talk to me, but Jackie and Marvin are living with me, and they will ensure your time there will be as comfortable as possible. It’s fine if you don’t want to go, but just know that we will always be there when you need a place to stay.”

Chase is silent, simply gazing at Henrik with unshed tears. Finally, he throws his arms around Henrik’s neck. Henrik startles, but returns the hug.

“Is that a yes?” Henrik mumbles. Chase nods. Henrik sighs in relief and squeezes Chase tighter. Now all he has to do is hope Jackie and Marvin have the house ready by the time he returns.

Henrik parks the car in the driveway and turns to Chase. The vlogger fidgets with his t-shirt. Henrik puts a hand on his shoulder.

“Just warning you now, while Jackie and Marvin have good hearts and intentions, they can be little shits and there’s a good chance the house will still be a mess when we get back in. Good luck.”

Chase whimpers in fear. Henrik nods solemnly. “My thoughts exactly.”

The fathers unload the car and walk up to the front steps. Henrik takes a deep breath and opens the door.

“FIFTEEN FUCKING POINTS! I WIN AGAIN MOTHERFUCKER!” Jackie screeches. Marvin roars in anger and tosses a pillow at Jackie, who backhands it. The pillow soars across the house and slams into Henrik, who grunts in alarm and falls backward. Chase shrieks in alarm, gaping at his fallen friend.

Marvin and Jackie turn around, bright blue eyes glaring into Chase. Marvin’s eye twitches sporadically and Jackie smiles like a madman. Chase nervously waves. Marvin clears his throat and forces a sleep-deprived smile.

“Howdy, Chase!”

[synoxshots]

Tagged by @sentinelapologist to answer some video game questions and rest assured I am about to give some very embarassing answers! (I wish I was kidding)

GAMES:

First game you ever played: This is gonna date me! Right so. I can’t remember it well but Fifa 98 definitely had an indoor stadium so I must have played that, because it wasn’t on Fifa 99 which I have much clearer memories of playing. But that would have come out when I was like, 3/4 years old so I’m not sure if I actually played it so much as went OOH! at whatever my brother/cousin (because we would have been at my aunt’s to actually have computer games) were doing. Or if we were behind the curve with getting it (also very likely). Definitely played Fifa 99 on my cousin’s computer for many years, also Lego Racers (which heh, I redownloaded earlier in the year as well for the nostalgia kick - no lies it holds up!). I have a lot of nostalgia for late 90s/early 00s video game graphics because of this, and tbh Fifa games probably peaked with 99. 

Favourite game: Honestly I’m so invested in SWTOR so it’s hard not to say that, it’s had the biggest impact on my life like. Open world + Star Wars? the dream. I’m more of a SW fan than a gamer so it was definitely the universe that drew me into it in the first place. Also BOTW because oh my god. And I only got into that once lockdown hit this year but honestly, I cannot say how much I adore it.

Game you’ve played through multiple times: Super super into the Lego games, so Lego Star Wars - to the point we had it on the Xbox, and then I’ve downloaded it on Steam and played through it multiple times on the pc. And I’m a completionist, so that’s like, collecting everything not just going through the story once. Fun story, the prequel games were released before RotS came out so I got the basic outline of the film from that game first oops. Also I’ve played through the Crash Bandicoot GBA games quite a bit too.

Game you hated at first but now you love: Don’t think I have one? Because yeah if I’m hating it right off I’m not gonna stick with it. Which is probs why I’m really fussy about buying games and replay so much stuff instead. I have my comfort zone okay

Game you used to love but now you hate: I spent a lot of hours playing Runescape in my life, and every now and then nostalgia tells me ‘hey log in!’ and within two minutes I realise it is the grindiest game ever. I still have my account from when I was like, 11, though, which is a substantial chunk of my life. Also League of Legends - I joined it because a few friends roped me in and it was great when we could play together but going it alone was pretty brutal because fuck up a tiny bit and boom, toxicity. So then I just played ARAM mode and not SR with others, then just stopped altogether. May be partly why group-finder scares me so much, though also y’know social anxiety in general. But let’s not get into that.

Your favourite game atmosphere/setting(s): BOTW for sure, I can just lose myself in that world forever. The music is fab as well and I’ve been trying to learn a bit of it on guitar, music adds a lot to a game/film/anything for me so yeah. But it’s also visually just so beautiful. There’s a lot of planets in SWTOR as well, Tython, Voss, etc.

Game with the best group/companion(s): I don’t really play a great deal of games where I have companions really so gotta say SWTOR! Smuggler gang is my favourite. Just all out nonsense.

A game with your favourite ending: literally drawing a blank here. I think a lot of things I’ve played have been the type to go on and on. 

A game with the worst ending: as above. maybe I just don’t finish things? That said the final boss fight in I think the second of the Crash trilogy games was super disappointing and didn’t match how insanely hard I found that game. (And I’m talking as an adult hahaha, I got the Switch ones this year). also kinda with you on the end of the agent storyline too, I left that one til last because the internet raved about how good it was but in the end I was...underwhelmed. 

Best character customisation: struggling to actually think of games I’ve played with character customisation as opposed to ones where I’m just given a character/choose from a selection. and it’ll be a real sad indicator if I say SWTOR because I am constantly complaining about the creator. though I do like outfit designer. hmm, pass.

HERO AND COMPANIONS:

Your favourite playable character: does it count if they’re my own? haha. in SWTOR I’d generally say a smuggler because I seem to come up with 5000 different ideas for OCs and playing as a gunslinger is super fun (and I’ve learnt to love scoundrel too!). And then in the Lego games I’d play as Shaak Ti a lot, but that was first because she looked cool though I do think she’s neat generally! But she probably doesn’t count as a video game character. Ooooh Link as well, because I’m getting more and more into Zelda games.

Your favourite companion(s): *cough* Theron. Kira. T7. Risha. Guss. Blizz. Gault. Torian. Felix. Nadia. Vette. Talos. Ugh, loads tbh, I’ll forget them all. *gesticulates generally at SWTOR*

RELATIONSHIPS:

Favourite game friendships: I live for the smuggler crew dynamic, and the BH crew as well. And the Jedi Knight/Kira friendship warms my soul. 

Favourite game relationships: obv I’m super biased but Theron/Knight. Smuggler/Risha. Consular/Felix. BH/Torian. I’ll just list my otps here shall I? SWTOR is the only game I’ve done where there’s been relationships I think. still haven’t finished KOTOR.

Favourite companion banter: smuggler crew probably again. Smuggler just never stops. not sure about between companions though there’s a bit of it with the smug as well.

A relationship you weren’t sure of but loved: I knew going into the Docmance how many people hated it but I really enjoyed it! Suited how my Knight was at that point. 

A character you wish you could romance: Elara with f!Trooper, hoping that becomes more of a thing going forward. Also I wanna kiss Tau. And Anri. Basically I see a cool woman come along and I’m just like...is this a love interest?

FUN:

Shoutout to a random NPC: hey Numen Brock! And Lemda Avesta as the first wlw I got to kiss in game!

A game you love watching playthroughs for and want to play: I don’t really watch playthroughs a great deal so I got nothing here! and when I watch playthroughs they’re normally of games I already know well because I wanna experience them first for myself? So I like watching BOTW challenge/speedrun/trickshot videos and stuff sometimes, and ACNH island tours but that’s because I know the games.

Love watching playthroughs but won’t ever play: as above really, but if I don’t have the intention to play them then I’m almost certainly not watching vids of.

Why do you play video games?: uhhhh. because I enjoy them, but also escapism I guess? like it’s easier to throw myself into another world and focus and fixate on that rather than dealing with the general...stuff. it’s a type of relief sometimes innit. 

anyway if you’ve made it this far down in reading this then consider yourself tagged, because this was a long’un!

[hollenka99]

The Vlogger

Summary: With no choice but to keep going, Chase meets others like him and starts his second chance at life with them. 

Warnings: Suicide, alcoholism, self deprecation, depression

@egopocalypse

As soon as Chase Brody pulls the trigger, he regrets it. Not because the rapid loss of blood is dizzying or he knows he may have something to live for. Instead, he rethinks things due to the pain. There's a hole in his skull, a hole he put there himself. If he knew he'd remain conscious, he wouldn't have bothered with the gun. So he's stuck there on the ground, the camera crew hovering uncertainly as an ambulance is called. The thing is, he doesn't want to actually die, doesn't want his children to grow up without their dad. He just wants a way out. No matter what he does, he can never fix the situation at home. Now Stacy was taking them from him. If he won't get to watch them grow up then it should be because he made it impossible, not Stacy. He believes that was the logic that got him in this situation. It was a stupid piece of logic. If the ambulance doesn't hurry up, he won't have much longer to dwell on it. For fuck's sake, why couldn't it have been instant? He can't even shoot himself properly. Now is not the moment to admit that may actually be a good thing. He finds himself waking in a hospital bed. As sure of his abilities as he is stern, Chase doesn't know what to make of the German doctor attending to him. The guy's bedside manner could do with slight improvement at times. However, Chase can't deny he's helpful when he needs to be. Chase find his left arm doesn't work as it used to. Apparently, he suffered damage to his premotor cortex. He won't be able to perform complex actions with that arm, whatever the hell 'complex actions' meant. Physical therapy is advised. He's too preoccupied by the fact he wrecked part of his brain to listen too intensely. That hadn't been in his list of things he'd hoped to achieve. Well, he supposes he had wanted to mess things up in that area of his body. But... the fatal kind. Not that he really knows what he wants in general. Except probably stopping the shitshow that was commonly referred to as his life from plaguing him further. He wants Stacy. And the kids. He wants to be the father and husband of a happy family. He wants to be happy himself. Dr Schneeplestein provides him with an address after he lets it slip he has nowhere to go after being released. It's where the doctor's friends live. They are always open to welcoming a new inhabitant. Chase's isn't convinced he should bother. Schneeplestein suggests he should at least think about it. Well, it's not like he has anywhere else to go. He might as well give these people a chance. Jack is really friendly once he arrives at the house. After checking Chase was aware of Sean, he calls someone named Marvin to the living room. Marvin is clearly a very cold person. The welcome he delivers is the opposite of Jack's. One had made him feel like he was welcome, the other seemed to want him gone immediately. Well fuck you too, Marvin. Despite being quiet and somewhat of a loner, at least Angus didn't seem too bad. Chase doesn't know how to react when Jack directs him to a private clinic within the building. He's even more at a loss for words when Dr Schneeplestein is there, greeting him. Okay, yeah, he gets it. While the doctor may not live in the building, he was an ego himself. Chase had noticed the similarity in appearance when it came to the guys here. Over the coming days, Schneeplestein checks up on him. He promises it is okay to call him Henrik if wants. Their discussions develop into a mix of formal medical stuff and informal getting to know each other better. Schneep reveals he is himself a father of three. He suggests Chase talk a little bit about himself. Okay. Well, his name was Chase Brody. He ran a YouTube channel called Bro Average where he performed trickshots. Occasionally well rehearsed stunts too. He had been married to a woman called Stacy. However, she had just announced she wanted a divorce. She was planning to take full custody of their two children. Their names are- they are... Wait, why couldn't he remember their names? Did the incident take some of his memories? Shit, don't tell him he's fucked up his memories as well as his arm. But he's been thinking about the situation since waking up, here and at the hospital. Wait, no, he was just thinking of them as 'the kids'. Why the hell hadn't he noticed before now? He was a bad father, just like Stacy had- "Chase?" "They're my children, how can I not remember their names?" "I did not either." The doctor reassures him. "Maybe talk to Jack, he is good with names. Helped me remember." He does indeed speak to Jack. They reach Noah without too much issue. It takes several names to get there, sure, but his son's name is fairly common. His daughter though... this was taking forever. Even Jack sounds like he's losing hope as the suggestion of Daisy is accompanied by a sigh. Chase is so thankful this is the one to stir something within him. Encouraging Jack to keep on the plant-based route hits his helper with a second wind. A handful of names later, they finally reach their destination of Willow. Willow and Noah. He remembers now. He can see a 4 year old girl with dark hair who loved mint choc chip ice cream. Then there was her 3 year old brother who loved to chat about anything and everything. They may not have been born at the right time in their parents' lives but he by no means loved them any less because of that. Not everyone has memories of rocking their daughter to sleep while studying. He'd love to hold those two again. As the days and weeks go by, Marvin remains distant. Chase approaches Jack, needing to know what the hell the magician's deal was. He learns there had been another ego, a 16 year old superhero who'd arrived in July. At the beginning of November, Jackie had slipped out to clear his head. Suffice to say, he was yet to return home. Marvin and Jackie had been becoming close friends at the time of his disappearance. He was simply grieving more noticeably than Jack. Jack also takes this opportunity to discuss a second mystery ego. Antisepticeye was very dangerous, not to mention unpredictable. Jack had caught glimpses of him prior to his official appearances on the channel in October. Anti was the one behind Jack's throat scar. Understandably, he'd rather not go into that day. What was important was that Chase did his best to stay safe from Anti, now that he was aware of him. Anti had attempted to kill Jack, abducted Jackie and recently, hijacked Sean's PAX panel entrance reel to threaten the audience. If Chase ever found himself in Anti's sights, run. Drop anything non-essential that may slow him down and get the hell out of there. Eventually the interactions that seem forced melt into something nicer. It's still clear the memory of Jackie will remain superior to him. However, it was good to be more than tolerated by Marvin. Things are easier like this. As it turns out, the magician is actually a pretty cool dude. He's really into plants and able to do a lot of cool stuff with his magic. Please keep everything made of iron away from him though. The first time he bought alcohol, he pretended the intention was innocuous. He'd had a shitty few months. It would just be to take the edge off a bit. Better to get a little tipsy than try to permanently escape again. 'A little tipsy' soon becomes stumbling to bed drunk. Which inevitably results in painfully frequent hangovers. It's a good thing he doesn't have to save money for rent or anything. He can keep this habit going for longer. Of course, this behavioural change doesn't go unnoticed. Jack encourages him to limit himself to a bottle a day, if he needs to drink at all. He understands and appreciates his concern. However, it wasn't exactly his place to dictate what Chase could and couldn't do. This talk still has an effect on his drinking habits. He gets better at hiding his stash. The best thing about the bedrooms in this house were that they changed to fit the needs of the ego whose bedroom it was. This in turn meant he had a mini fridge without asking for it aloud. Jack and Marvin grow more desperate with trying to get through with him. There are weeks were he does genuinely attempt to make an effort to improve. Those attempts don't usually go well. At least there are two people cheering him on. Stacy's even been more approachable about the split during the past month or so, which was pleasant. She still wants full custody though. Especially because she's aware of his issue with alcohol seemingly developing into something likely diagnosable as alcoholism. That would be motivation enough to get him to stop. It only makes him feel worse when he gives in to temptation. At the end of July, Jack invites him and Marvin to marathon the Harry Potter films. He's had an argument with Sean and needs the distraction. Following the end of the second film, Marvin leaves for a moment to take a bathroom break. He turns to his friend on the other end of the sofa. "I-" A pause to question whether he should even bother with this line of conversation. "Jack, I don't get you, dude." "Uh, okay. Where did this come from?" "I don't know. I just don't get why you bother with Sean. You always seem to be at each other's throats." "Why did you try to hang on to your relationship with Stacy for so long?" "Hey, don't bring her into this." "Well?" Chase gives the most exaggerated shrug he can muster before crossing his arms, curling into himself on the sofa as he does so. The best Jack is getting out of him is a mumble. "Dunno. Still love her. Kids." "Yeah, well, Sean and I have quite a history ourselves. What can I say? We can't really go our separate ways by this point. He's an asshole but I still love him despite it. It's... it's complicated. We've known each other since we were kids. We were there for each other back then and we are still down to hang out now. I mean, that's what happened today. He's a busy dude and I don't expect him to drop everything for me. Yet we still make time for each other." Jack pauses to pick up his glass. "Want me to top you up before we start Prisoner of Azkaban?" "Jack." "I was made to be his friend. I can't... not be. Like I said, it's complicated. So, top up?" Days later, he spots Jack stumbling towards where Henrik was privately working on something. When he asks if his friend is feeling well, Jack waves him off, excusing it as 'probably nothing serious'. The words sound strained, as if he's attempting to keep his lunch in. Chase would call him out on the blatant understatement, were it not obvious Jack didn't want the fuss. The first clue he gets is Marvin leaving his room to hover restlessly in the corridor. The magician murmurs about something in the air feeling off. Chase suggests opening a window to aid air circulation, only for Marvin to snap that it wasn't like that. Besides, it was August and fairly warm. Most windows were already open. The second is Henrik being heard loudly speaking his surname. It doesn't sound right, almost like he's not the one to have said it. Marvin freezes at this. This has clearly shaken him for some unknown reason. As rapidly as the noise had stopped Marvin in his tracks does it cause him to pivot and march in the direction of where Schneep is working. The final hint of what is unfolding is Marvin's desperation. He's at the door to the med bay, pounding it with any spell he can think of. Chase rams into it whenever he is sure he isn't at risk of being unintentionally hit. They cry out to Henrik and swear they're coming to help. The locked door receives a series of abuse in a matter of minutes. The door finally gives. Marvin blocks his view temporarily but he sees regardless. There are too many wires and machines for him to comprehend they're all attached to one person. If he'd known, he would have swapped places with Jack in a heartbeat. Henrik is nowhere to be found. Chase's first encounter with Anti has robbed him of two of his good friends. His and Marvin's lifestyles change immediately. Marvin rarely has time to practice magic. Chase, similarly, puts Bro Average to one side. They both focus on providing Jack with the best care their inexperience can form. They are way in over their heads with this. However, Jack remains alive. They must be doing something vaguely correct. The 17 year old in the stolen outfit appears at their door a month on. Chase originally assumes this is a new ego. Oh, Marvin is going to be livid. He already lost his cool when Robbie showed up. Let's not even mention when Sean attempts a visit. Either way, the kid looks completely shattered and like he could collapse in a heap any moment now. He struggles to focus on the sentence he's trying to finish. This ego really is out of it. What kind of video did Sean upload today that it produced someone so wrecked? The teenager sways a little. Chase moves to steady him while Marvin is spouting the same shit about how Sean better not have created another ego. Tired of Marvin's anger at this specific moment, he calls him over to help. The magician barely enters the hallway before the newbie crumples into Chase's hold. He glances back at Marvin, a second away from encouraging him to assist him already. The haunted expression on his friend's face prevents that. Oh. This was Jackie. Of course it was. The two of them place him in the medical bay. Marvin withdraws into himself. Especially in the following days. He spends all his time hanging around Jackie. All he talks about is Jackie and how he's doing. Jackie, Jackie, Jackie. Listen, Chase is glad Jackie has returned home. Ecstatic, even. It's just... things have drastically changed in the household in barely any time at all. First it was Jack slipping into a coma. Now it's Jackie showing up after months of no clues regarding his whereabouts. It doesn't help when the teenager sticks to Marvin's side wherever possible and acts wary of Chase. He supposes he gets it. Marvin is the only person, other than Angus, whom the young superhero recognises from his pre-Anti life. Meanwhile, Marvin, who has spent close to a year missing his friend, wishes to protect him as much as he can. Either way, Chase gently inserts himself into the friendship group. He's heard about this guy a fair bit and felt his absence in the grief of those who'd loved him. He wants to get to know him. It took a couple months for Marvin to be chill with him. Chase would rather not return to being rejected once more. That's why he continues to be Marvin's person to spill his woes to and the one to let Jackie know he's not judgmental of the potential symptoms of PTSD on display. October isn't a good month. An ego named Shawn Flynn is born on the 5th as a result of Sean's video involving his Bendy voice role. On Halloween, they find it very suspicious that an ego who got a personal video hasn't shown up at their home yet. Didn't this guy also have pictures on Instagram as of earlier this week? He really should be here. Especially seeing as he had his own room waiting for his arrival. Chase volunteers himself to speak to Sean. As it turns out, that was the right move. When Sean lets him in, he is introduced to Jameson Jackson. It goes down as well as expected. Chase brings Jameson home and give him the house tour. As they travel around the building, he ensures Jameson knows Sean is not to be trusted. When the new ego argues that their creator had accommodated him, Chase decides this moment was as good as any to visit the medical bay. "This is Jack. He's a prime example of what happens when keep trusting Sean and believing he actually cares. We're not shitting on Sean for the hell of it. We do it because he's a dick and we'd rather not force anyone else to lose their friend." Chase takes a stabilising breath. He shows Jameson to his new room and suggests he familiarise himself with it this afternoon. If he needs anything, feel free to give him a tap on the shoulder. He has to admit, Sean has balls. Not only did he trick Jameson into being his friend, he's trying to get Chase to sympathise with him too. Sean even has the nerve to give some sob story. Obviously, he'd twist the truth to get his way. Chase is smarter than that. It's not like he's to blame for Sean being overloaded by the need to keep up with the upload schedule. That was purely Sean's own doing. Then he has the audacity to pull the Jack card. Oh, fuck you. How dare he?! So what, Chase is just supposed to become Jack 2.0 until Sean bothers to wake him up? No thanks. Unlike Jack, he requires sleep so it's not like he can help without consequences. Besides, he's got his own shit going on. Maybe Sean recalls the whole 'depressed and suicidal guy who's going through a divorce' thing he'd centered his character on. "Chase, please, at least think about it. Jack is in that coma because I was stressed and resentful. I don't want to risk making things even worse. I know I'm just repeating myself now but less time focusing on videos means more time for me to work out how to fix everything." He does think about it. Okay, fine! If it's just to keep the channel going then whatever. The channel is necessary to keep all of them healthy. He'll do it for Jack's sake. Anything to increase the chance of waking him up is worth it, right? Even if it means going against his morals. He nearly throws Sean's offer back in his face a month later. It was simply a charity stream. All that was supposed to happen was a nightly break in the 2 day event. He will forever hate CCTV footage and security from this point onwards. What the fuck did Anti do to Jackie that Silent Night triggers him? The night is spent ensuring two things. One, that everyone, especially Jackie, felt as safe as they could be in a stressful situation like this. The second objective was to observe the feed for the whole night. They sleep in the living room and take an hour long shifts to monitor the glitches. A doctor moves in during January. As much as they need the medical help, Dr Jacksepticeye is hardly Henrik. Either way, an ego is an ego. Chase is glad he's not the only one who is uncomfortable watching the stranger overseeing Jack's care. They just need Henrik back. Things can be generally alright after that. After much negotiating from both parties, Stacy agrees to allow him some custody. She'll have the majority of it but she's fine with weekends being Chase's time with them. Yes, yes, god yes. He'd obviously prefer to have it more evenly split. Maybe alternate weeks or Monday-Thursday morning for one and Thursday afternoon-Sunday for the other. But weekends? He gets to see Willow and Noah for 2/7 of the week? He'd take an hour a year if that was the most Stacy was willing to compromise. The others surprise him with a small party, complete with cake, when the arrangement becomes official. That first weekend can't come soon enough. He has a talk with Jackie about mental health and coping mechanisms after he catches him binging on his secret whiskey stash. Trust him, hangovers are no fun. Stop trying to force your raised metabolism to submit and become intoxicated. Frequently battling with your head is exhausting. Drinking yourself silly is not the answer. No, don't ask why he resorts to alcohol. Do as he says, not as he does, you know? Please tell him you're aware he's down to confide in if you want. No, no, don't cry. It's all good. Marvin doesn't have to know a single thing. Anything else you wanted to say? Zero judging, he swears. Early May finally provides them with their favourite German doctor. Like Jackie, Henrik's wellbeing has certainly seen better days. To think, the three of them had been having some dumb debate about Spider-Man moments before the big reunion took place. This is the beginning of the 10 days where Chase believes things can be good for the egos. The only thing missing is Jack's consciousness. A week later, he provides Sean with a video he'd edited himself. The level of trust they have between each other now means Sean doesn't check the video's contents. It is for this reason that the comments come flooding in before his creator's wrath does. Sean deems the mistake irreversible and the video therefore eligible to stay up. Chase can only hope it doesn't lead to any more issues. The weekend passes without any problem. On Monday, he notices Willow forgot to bring her doll back to Stacy's. He might as well return the toy. It is with annoyance that he realises Stacy's probably experiencing a power cut. Albeit dangerous to have done so, Chase considers it lucky that he was carrying that lighter in his pocket. Come on, work already. Stupid thing. The flame is tiny but at least it's something. Better than exploring blind at any rate. As Chase wanders through dark hallways, he becomes increasingly aware he may be endangering himself. After all, this home was meant to be displaying signs of life. Where were- Faint laughter. Children's laughter, undoubtedly. Oh God, that sounded like Willow and Noah. A girl screams. He wants to run to her. Fuck it if it's clearly a trap. His daughter's in trouble and he'll expose himself to whatever's frightening her without a second thought. He wants to sprint and he knows he should. Yet something keeps him at a cautious pace. His frustration grows as whispers are cut off by what sounds like Noah crying. He's coming, he swears. Daddy's coming. Just hold on. The whispers intensify as he turns the corner. This new hallway is bathed in red. Chase has better visibility but it wasn't necessarily a good thing. The room at the end of the corridor is completely soaking in the colour. It leaks onto the surrounding walls. The only object blocking the light is the silhouette. "Who's there?" The silhouette's head steadily twists over its shoulder. A second passes. An eye illuminates green with an unnerving crackle. It does nothing to acknowledge the questions its current prey begs to have answered. "Where are they?" Chase cries. "What do you want from me?!" There is no time to scream or escape. There is only the erratic approach. And as quickly as a video can cut to darkness, they are both gone.

[basically-rainbow-aus]

The next two RWBabies the admins have created! Kusagi and Lavica are childhood best friends.

Just like the other four RWBabies on this blog, Kusagi and Lavica will be open to questions.

(Once again, their bios will be under the cut, and they’re still long:)

Kusagi Ren (Based on Bonnie Parker)

Name Inspiration: ‘Kusa’ can mean herb in Japanese, ‘Gi’ can mean righteousness in Japanese

Nickname(s): ‘Kusa’ by Lie and Lavica, ‘Gigi’ by Fox and Byakuren, ‘Ren’ by anyone and everyone

Iolite-isms: Weed, Stoner, Pink Eye, Herbivore, Picasso

Languages: RSL

Gender: Male

Species: Human

Aura Colour: Pink

Schools and Team: Sanctum Academy (combat school), Haven Academy (Academy)/Past Member of Team DBRK (Daybreak)

Bestie Better Than The Restie: Lavica Politan

Homeplace: Kuroyuri

Orientation: Asexual Heteroromantic

Semblance: Commute, a semblance that is shared between Kusagi and his sister Byakuren together. It is a semblance that is always active. It allows Kusagi to sense his sister’s emotions and in turn read her movements, meaning they have access to flawless teamwork and team attacks, aware of exactly where to strike and when to attack without harming Byakuren. 

Weapon: Lilypads, a pair of leg bracers that are hooked up to a projectile, long-range firing mechanism that fires off a colourless firework or flare. They are slightly heavier than that of Byakuren’s Blunt Retribution and can haul more weight and thus more projectiles.

Voiced by: No one

Trivia: 

His fathers are the reason he enjoys tea as much as he does. His favourite kind is skullcap tea.

Kusagi was born clinically mute similar to Neo but was only diagnosed when Fox found it curious that he never made a sound when he cried or laughed at age four.

He is very close with both his fathers but also his Aunt Nora, finding common ground with her on the basis on fashion sense and their shared love of pinks. He is always overjoyed whenever she and Ruby choose to visit Kuroyuri.

He loves music and will actively seek out quiet places when he feels overwhelmed by the noise of life so he can listen through his headphones in peace.

Late nighttime is the first time he meets one Lavica Politan, his best friend aside from his little sister. Though the two can barely speak a word between them at first, with some assistance from Neo in the way of RSL lessons for Kusagi, they become very good friends very quickly. He often assists as extra guard for her while she runs the crime of Anima. It is also with Lavica that he became a protector and guardian for Cinnabarus after finding him in the Politan residence attic.

Though he cannot sing, he can play bass guitar.

Kusagi is extremely protective and connected to his little sister Byakuren since their shared Semblance prevailed when he was five and she was four. The emotional and mental attachment between the two means that if Kusagi is seperated from her, he’ll feel as though a piece of him is missing and will risk just about anything just to ensure her safety and closeness. Byakuren also acts as his scribe in most situations where people don’t know RSL.

He’s an early bird and doesn’t go to sleep well. 

His favourite meal is fruit salad with maple syrup and honey. He’s a sucker for all things sweet and lovely.

Although he doesn’t wear it day-to-day, Kusagi’s Huntsman garb includes a transulcent pink veil that covers his mouth. He finds that it draws attention away from his lack of voice and towards how he can communicate.

Lavica Politan (Based on the Cheshire Cat and Pompeii)

Name Inspiration: Lava Red and Lava Grey

Nickname(s): ‘Lav’ or ‘Lavi’ by anyone and everyone, ‘Ma’am’ by syndicate members and teammates

Iolite-isms: Little Bitch, Pompeii, Sir, Magma Pop

Languages: RSL, Valean, North Mistrali, South Mistrali, limited Vacuan

Gender: Female

Species: Human

Aura Colour: Red

Schools and Team: No combat school, Haven Academy (Academy)/Leader of Team LCRC (Liquorice)

Bestie Better Than The Restie: Kusagi Ren

Homeplace: Northern Anima, later Kuroyuri

Orientation: Asexual Aromantic

Semblance: Visionary, an illusionary semblance that gives Lavica similar abilities to her Mom. Using just the thought of her mind and a bit of Aura extension, she can create illusions of objects or even people with little to no strain. Her power seems almost limitless and surpasses that of Neo. It does, however, come with a temporary effect. If an illusion takes too much damage or cannot be held anymore, then they will disappear into ash and embers, though if Lavica is in an emotional state then the illusion will erupt into a flame will vaporise itself withins three seconds of its life. To keep this flame from appearing, she practices calming techniques such as Tai Chi every morning with her foster brother, Cinnabarus. 

Weapon: Trickshot, a cane that, when a button on the side is pressed, extends at the hook to reveal an umbrella’s canopy. The canopy is fused with a special mesh of carbon fibres, allowing them to absorb heat and withstand blasts but also perform lightly, creating the perfect shield and showmanship tool. The base of the cane can also pop open to reveal a firing mechanism capable of releasing a few shots at a time. A blade mechanism is also built into the cane’s hook, which can extend and divide itself in blade form to achieve a wider surface area and thus a further damage capacity. The top of the canopy is also emblazoned with a flame symbol that acts as a Dust absorber and can lauch an attack back at its initial weilder. 

Voiced by: Brina Michelle Palencia

Trivia: 

Neo and Cinder had Lavica after Team WTCH had split off, Salem having been defeated. With Watts and Tyrian hiding out in Atlas and Hazel off the face of Remnant in a matter of days, Cinder returned to Neo. Lavica was welcomed into the world with flashfire from Cinder and a smile from Neo, the former leaving soon after her birth.

Lavica arrived in Kuroyuri when she was three, having tipped up with an injured Neo and no Cinder in sight. It was that night she met Kusagi Ren, her future best friend. The Ren family quickly became a constant presence in the Politans’ lives, providing easy access to services, respect and later better resources than they would’ve had alone out in Anima.

She is hot-headed and short-tempered similarly to Cinder. Running a crime syndicate and ensuring no-one gets hurt without your say so while juggling being a Huntress is not an easy job, to say the least.

She has a somewhat foster brother in the form of Cinnabarus, as she and Kusagi found him in her attic when they were both eight and chose to raise him with limited success.

Lavica has no interest in finding a partner. Her mothers’ “divorce” broke her ideals of love long before she could even grasp it.

She’s a night owl and often breaks into Kusagi’s room while he’s awake.

Although she is a decent Huntress alongside her sustained team, she is quite occupied and passionate about keeping tabs on the crime syndicate of Anima she rules with an iron fist. The only exclusion is Rooke Branwen and said Branwen’s tribe, as the girls have clashed many times over the years and Lavica now simply uses her as a source of information on whoever she needs to find.

Although she has been trained since she was five and Neo trusts her immensely, Lavica was not allowed to leave her mother’s side or the village of Kuroyuri until she was fifteen. The constant threat of Cinder returning for a “visit” and harming Lavica has always been a paranoia of the Rens and Neo alike.

Her favourite meal is either katsu chicken curry with coriander and lime or the ever-delicious pancakes Lie makes with strawberries and pumpkin spice powder.

[asherranceoftheheart]

Vacation - Jacksepticeye Drabble

Summary:  In which Anti has to bribe Henrik to get a small break from the stress of having to take care of the entire Septic Family. Fandom: Jacksepticeye Universe Characters: Antisepticeye, Henrik Von Schneeplestein, Sean Mcloughlin, Mentions of other Egos Genre: Fluff, Family Warnings: Soft!Anti

He’s not a coward.

A brown haired glitch demon warred with himself as he stood in front of a certain doctor’s office. When the Septic HQ was established after the egos started popping up one after the other, Henrik commandeered the spacious room on the ground floor that had a great view of the main staircase and the entrance hall just in case any of the other egos tried to sneak past the doctor when they were sick or injured. None of them fought with him over the room especially when he wore that gleam in his eyes that said if they even tried to fight him, they will lose.

Angus and Jackie were the guiltiest of the sin of trying to hide their injuries from Henrik due to their adventures and heroic escapades. The duo would often attempt to scale the HQ’s walls to sneak in via the window of their rooms. While it was an open secret that Anti and Marvin would either teleport or glitch directly into their rooms to avoid the fussy doctor.

However... all of those tricks were merely temporary solutions. The trouble children already lost count of the many times they woke up to Henrik menacingly hovering over them with a syringe filled with an ominously glowing liquid in his hands.

Much to the chagrin of the Septics, Henrik was born with a bullshit radar that would tell him if anything’s wrong with any of them. Anti asked Sean once why the fuck he’d give the doctor that talent and his Other would just shrug and answer that they all needed a nanny that’ll make sure that they were all healthy.

A loud crash disturbed Anti’s thoughts and he eyed the door warily when he heard muffled German curses coming from the owner of the room. Anti really didn’t want to face the dragon but his neck wound reopened itself in the middle of the night. He woke up to his neck feeling raw and sore with some itchiness that he resisted to scratch since Henrik would bitch about him making the wound worse.

He could technically handle the wound being open but the blood kept on staining all of his shirts and Marvin’s one step closer into committing fratricide if he kept ruining his outfits. The stylish man never stopped giving him the dirty look when he wore his infamous black shirt and ripped jeans for an entire week.

The door was suddenly ripped open and Henrik stood in front of him in all his grumpy and motherhenning glory.

“Well? Are you coming in or not?” Henrik demanded and glowered at Anti before spinning around and storming back into his office without waiting for a reply.

Seeing Henrik’s current temperament, Anti doesn’t care if the others called him a coward. He doesn’t want to be the one to bear all of the man’s foul mood.

/Pussy./ Sean oh-so-helpfully jeered through their connection.

\You’re the one who’s been playing the game of Hide and Seek with the Doc for the past few weeks since you don’t want a check up, Sean.\ Anti sneered back and slightly smirked at the telling silence from his Other.

Outloud, the glitch warily addressed Henrik, “Seems you’re quite busy Doc. Maybe I should come back later…”

“Oh no you don’t! You’re not getting me to hunt you down again.” Anti winced at the loud clatter of medical equipment being slammed on the table.

Henrik glared at him and pointed towards the seat in front of him.

“Sit.” The doctor’s eyes flashed, practically daring Anti to disobey.

A part of the demon—the part that’s bristling at the nerve of a human ordering him around—told him to turn his back on Henrik (that has got to be the stupidest idea his mind ever came up with since Henrik is fully capable of stabbing him with a sedative in the back) and walk the fuck away. But the part of him that has any semblance of self-preservation told him to just get this over with before Henrik actually snapped.

He decided that he didn’t want Henrik to kill all of them in their sleep tonight.

Anti kept his eyes on the doctor who raised an eyebrow back at him as he sat himself down on the seat. Once Henrik saw that Anti wasn’t going to make his work hard, he started fussing over him, checking his neck wound here and there while asking with a semi-gentle voice if this hurt or if he felt anything wrong compared to the usual regarding his wound. Anti obediently answered all of his questions and patiently sat still as Henrik started cleaning his neck. He hissed when the antiseptic stung as the doctor carefully dabbed it all over and inside the wound with a gentleness that you wouldn’t expect from the grumpy man.

“Why did it even open this time? You were not fighting with Dark or the other dark sides again, are you?” Henrik tutted while he got out the sterilized needle and string. “Don’t answer that. You’ll get blood in my white sheets again.”

The glitch demon rolled his eyes and gave the younger ego an unamused look. He wasn’t stupid.

Henrik then began complaining to him about how he wished he and the others took better care of themselves while he started to stitch the wound close again. Jackie keeps getting hurt on his missions for his reckless bravery and has the gall to hide them from him even though Henrik has been warning him about making his injuries worse than if he just told Henrik. Marvin tries to hide some of the bad effects of spells gone wrong and keeps on drinking experimental potions that could mess him up. Angus needs to be more careful in his adventures and needs a constant check up after each of his ventures because the man might have forgotten to apply first aid on his injuries. Shawn needs to go to therapy for his trauma and to stop cooping himself up in his room. For that matter, Jaques also needs to stop hiding in his room and remember to take care of himself since he often forgets to eat or rest when he’s deep into his art.

Robbie needs to take better care of his zombified body since it’s so easy to dismember him and to stop forgetting his routine checkups. Chase has made massive progress on being sober for six months and has been maintaining his meds and therapy but he’s just as much of a workaholic as Sean and loves doing dangerous trickshots that leaves Henrik frazzled. Jamie is a good man but that one loves bar hopping and getting into fights along with Wilford!

Henrik breathed in deeply and finished the stitching with flourish. Anti reached up and gingerly touched the stitches before looking up at the younger ego with furrowed brows.

“Doc…” Anti paused because what else can he say to the entire thing?

“And you! A-and Sean!” Henrik gritted his teeth as he glared at Anti who was by now frowning. There was a soft clatter from when he dropped the dirty needle in the metal tray. “You two need to learn to come to me when you’re both feeling unwell! I… I—!”

Suddenly, Henrik just lost steam in the middle of his tirade. He shuddered and dropped down to the nearby bed exhaustively. He held his head in his hands and Anti thought he looked like Atlas carrying the entire world on his shoulders.

/… We’ve been making everything far too hard on Hen, huh?/ He could taste the guilt comin from Sean’s side along with his own.

Anti sat down beside his younger brother and wrapped an arm around his waist in a one sided embrace. The younger ego leaned on him and the demon could feel some of the tension leave his body at Anti’s quiet support.

“I just worry about you all too much,” whispered Henrik with a weary chuckle.

“You do,” Anti agreed as he stared up at the ceiling. “But that’s what keeps us all alive and kicking.”

Henrik snorted. Anti was glad to hear a hint of amusement in the sound.

“You would all kill each other or would have burned this entire house down without me.”

“What can I say? You’re the holder of one of the remaining three brain cells in our crew while I have the second and the others are sharing the last one between them.”

“Ha. You think too highly of yourself. I for one believe that Chase has the other one and you’re sharing the last one with the others.”

“Wha— Chase? Really?”

“That man can herd all of you in far better than I or Sean can with just a disappointed look… He’s also been the one feeding all of us.”

“... I hate to say this but you’re absolutely fucking right.”

“Of course I am. I’m not sharing a brain cell with all of you, remember?”

“Rude.”

“You’re the one who admitted it.” Anti could feel Henrik rolling his eyes at him.

“Anyway,” Anti decided to change the subject before the doctor started to pick on him again, “you’re really stressed, Doc. You should rest or even have a vacation.”

Henrik’s head whipped up at that. The glasses had embedded marking on the doctor’s face and while it amused Anti a bit, he braced himself for the inevitable protests.

“I can’t do that! You’ll all die!” Henrik exclaimed.

“Oi. Give us some credit. Chase is still here, he’ll make sure we won’t die while you’re gone for a while.” Anti’s face twisted down as a thought entered his mind. He can’t believe he’s about to suggest this.

/I mean… Technically, you’re the eldest along with Angus. While you don’t think so, everyone really does respect you Anti./ Sean dryly commented but the sincerity of his belief in his words carried out through the connection.

\Hush you.\ Anti absently sent back but he couldn’t deny the flash of pride and happiness at Sean’s words.

“I’ll help Chase control our bunch and keep them all alive and safe while you’re on your vacation,” said Anti with a grimace on his lips. “I can’t bother Dark for now anyway. He said he’s gonna gut me if I showed my face within the next two months.”

Technically, that still wouldn’t have stopped him and the Doc’s incredulous look showed that he didn’t quite believe that excuse either.

“I’ll drag Sean over for the check up if you have a few days off.” Anti figured he might as well sweeten the deal.

/Hey! You can’t just toss me underneath the bus like that!/ Sean cursed, his ire making Anti smile.

\It’s for the greater good Seany boy~ We want Henrik to be better and you also need to take better care of yourself and as your Other, it’s my duty to uphold that. So… It’s a win-win situation for all of us!\ Anti cheerily sent back as if one of the reasons why he dragged Sean down with him isn’t out of spite.

/Bull-fucking-shit./ His Other called him out.

Anti tuned him out with brighter spirits to see Henrik’s calculative look. The doctor was smart enough to not immediately deny the deal that was offered to him. If there was anyone who could force Sean to take care of himself, it’s Anti.

He resisted the urge to smile.

“Two days.” Henrik bartered.

“A week and I’ll drag Sean, Jackaboy, and Marvin in.” Anti shot back and didn’t resist the grin this time as Henrik’s eyes sharpened.

Gotcha~!

“... Fine. I will go on a vacation.” The doctor grumbled as he reached up and checked the stitches. “That does not hurt, right?”

Anti scrunched up his nose at the tiny twinge from the poking.

“Nah,” he dismissed the doctor’s concern, “just a bit sore but it aint that bad.”

Henrik nodded and stood up. He reached for the clean towel and started carefully wiping away the dried blood from the stitched up wound. Once he saw that Anti’s neck was fully clean, he offered a hand to the seated demon who took it graciously and allowed himself to be pulled up.

“Do make sure not to kill each other and burn the house down while I’m away,” Henrik wryly told Anti who was already making his way out of the office to change out of his stained shirt.

Anti didn’t even turn and instead just raised a hand to wave nonchalantly and said, “Yeah, yeah, just make sure you actually relaxed during your vacay and rest.”

“Thank you Anti.” It was quiet and only Anti with his increased senses would have heard it.

The only indication that Anti heard was the small pause that lasted for no more than five seconds before he closed the door behind him with a bang.

Henrik allowed a smile to pull up at the corner of his lips. Anti, the eldest ego who have been with Sean far longer than any of them was definitely sharp around the edges but he dulls them only for their Creator and the other Septics. He was definitely the subtle kind of fussy older brother to all of them and only those who actually knew him would notice it.

The doctor turned back to cleaning up the medical instruments he used to fix up Anti, he was absently already planning out what he’ll need to prepare before his vacation so that Anti and Chase’s jobs are going to be so much easier while he’s gone.

Anti was walking back to his room, mind already formulating plans to wrangle the other Septics. He wasn’t doing this for the Doc (lies). It would just be annoying if the main caretaker was gone or indisposed far longer than the vacation if he got sick from overworking. If that happened then no one will make sure that the idiots are taking care of themselves.

/Just admit you’re a sap for all of us and go./ Sean was rolling his eyes at him, he just knew it.

\Shut the fuck up, bitch.\

[abysskeeper]

otpop if trickshot is the name he chooses

“Soooo…I heard you finally picked a name.” Tavon looked up from putting the last of his gear away at the quiet knock on the doorframe and the not quite question that could only be said to him. Spectre stood against the wall next to the doorway, trying to be too nonchalant as she played with one of the strings on her sweatshirt. “Trickshot, huh?” she asked, and the slightly forced casual tone of her voice suggested something was wrong with his choice.

“I see news travels fast around here,” he remarked, amused that the news had made it to her that quickly. He had only solidified the name about an hour ago. Then again, he could easily see her waiting to find out what he chose and when. “Yes, that is correct. Trickshot is what I chose,” he added and paused, studying her for a moment. The discomfort she felt probably wouldn’t have been noticeable to most, but he watched her shift on her feet and her grip on her sweatshirt string tightened every so slightly for a fraction of a second. “Is there an issue with the name?”

“N-no!—” There was definitely an issue with the name. “—It’s just…I dunno. I guess I just sort of expected you to stick with Crosshair,” she admitted, though that hardly seemed to be enough to give her that much pause. “I don’t know why,” she continued with a shrug, “Every side switch usually comes with a name change, it only makes sense. I think I just got used to Crosshair…even when you were a pain in my side. It fit…” she was rambling, and her eyes grew wider when she realized what she had said, “N-not that Trickshot doesn’t fit! It does! It’s a g-great name it’ll just take some getting used to, is all.”

That certainly wasn’t all of it. She already knew a change in his name was inevitable, he had told her as such. She would have had time to adjust to no longer calling him Crosshair, even if she did not yet know what to replace the name with. No, her hesitation and discomfort was not regarding the name change, it was regarding the name Trickshot itself. But before he could ask what the real problem was, why she seemed so nervous and adamantly casual about the topic, approaching footsteps dragged their attention to the door.

“Trick!” Tavon noted with confusion both of them perked up at the white-haired boy’s call. The kid looked between the two of them and laughed a little, “Sorry, I know you’re new here, Trickshot. We usually go by our given names around here.” With his apology said, White Reaper turned his attention back to Spectre—Trick—and handed her a stack of papers.

Oh.

“It’s not an immediate need, but you’ve been requested to look over these,” the kid said.

“Thanks, Thane,” she said and quickly leafed through what was likely new intel for an assignment, “I’ll get back to him by tonight.”

“Of course, ma’am,” Thane nodded and turned to him one last time, “Welcome aboard…uh…Trickshot.”

He probably would have supplied Thane with his actual name if he was focused on that part of the conversation, it was apparently what they went by around here. Yet all he could really do was look at the woman standing in front of him, trying far too hard to look busy reading the papers she was handed to avoid looking at him. He didn’t register when Thane left, or if he even knew what he had just inadvertently caused, but the silence enveloped them for several moments.

“So Trick is…your name?” Tavon asked cautiously, slowly, but needing to break the uncomfortable silence spanning between them.

“It’s what I go by here, yes,” she answered, still not looking up at him. He noticed her choice of wording in her answer, but decided not to tackle that for now. There was something greater to deal with first.

“I only knew you as Spectre.” Well, that wasn’t entirely true. Since he had learned the beastly Hellhound and the teleporter Spectre were one and the same, he knew her by two names. And it seemed so foolish now, that he had never bothered to ask for her real name. But then, she had never asked for his either, he had offered it freely when he switched.

In the end, he supposed it also didn’t matter. He still knew her, no matter her name. It simply would have saved them from the irony now.

“I apologize, had I known…” he trailed off, acknowledging what he was about to say was not entirely true either. Had he known, he might have been even more pulled towards the name. Even after this new revelation, he already felt more settled into the name, like something he hadn’t even known was jutting out had finally settled into place. It was reassuring to know he had picked correctly. Still, it was no longer just his feelings he had to consider, “I can change it, if you wish.”

“It’s fine,” she shook her head and finally spared him a glance. At the disbelieving look he gave her, she huffed a sigh and let her hand holding the papers fall to her side. “Really, it is. You don’t have to change it,” she insisted, “I like the name, it suits you. I was ecstatic upon hearing it…” she paused and he noticed the slightest bit of a blush creeping into her cheeks. She shook her head and continued, “I just…I also really want to know how you came to it.”

“It was always on the list,” Tavon admitted, “Trickshots are part of the whole routine, after all. Many of the heroes around here told me it was my best option. They said you would likely appreciate it best as well, now I understand why.”

Her blush darkened, “T-they did?”

“Yes,” he nodded, “Archangel, in particular, was quite adamant about the subject. She practically insisted Trickshot was the best choice.”

“Chris would,” Trick rolled her eyes, “So that’s why you chose it?”

He shrugged again, “Most everyone was already willing to call me by it, and I could see myself going by it, I figured that should be enough.” He hesitated, “Still, I sincerely mean I will change it if you wish me to.”

She shook her head and smiled, blush still prominent on her cheeks, and he was once again thankful to finally be on the same side as her. That smile had quickly become one of his few weaknesses in the field. “How many times do I have to tell you that I do like it in order to convince you?” she asked.

“Your initial reaction was mildly concerning,” he retorted and she rolled her eyes at him, “Still, I am glad. With this newfound information, I am further drawn to it. Trickshot is too fitting, I believe.”

“Is it?”

“Well…” And there were a thousand explanations he wanted to give her as to why. How he was now shooting, fighting for her. Or how she was the one who had given him a shot in the first place. That it only made too much sense to inexplicably tie his journey to her, and that he wanted everyone to know he was tied to her. Yet none of that seemed to be appropriate, at the current juncture. Eventually, perhaps, but not now.

“…You did take a chance on me,” Tavon answered instead. And it wasn’t a lie, it just was not everything he wanted the answer to be. “I am your shot now, so to speak. It would do me well to remember that in the field, I do not want to disappoint. You, nor anyone else, but you most of all.”

“R-ri-right,” she agreed, and he had not thought it possible for her face to get any redder until it happened. She pulled the papers back to look at them again, and the small smile came back to her face after her initial shock at his words. “W-well,” she cleared her throat, “Well, not that I think you ever could, but I am glad you don’t want to disappoint me,” she glanced down at her papers again, “I should…uh…probably go start seriously looking these over.”

He nodded, “Of course.”

Her flustered state was still evident, but her sincerity shone through in her eyes, “Seriously though, welcome aboard, Trickshot.”

He was glad she turned away, because he hadn’t expected hearing his new name from her lips to make him feel as light inside as it had, and he found himself quietly saying to her retreating form, “Thank you, Trick.”

[scribblehoneybee]

58 with Chase and JJ? (Maybe some timewarp stuff? 👀)

Timewarp grins as he slips the watch back into his pocket. He looks down at the hero, once again bound and entranced, ready to bend to his will. “You’re just too easy, love,” he taunts, a huff of laughter rising when the hero simply hums in response.

He tilts Trickshot’s face up to meet his. The hero’s eyes are distant and unfocused, a golden sheen dancing across them. “Lovely, just perfect,” he praises, patting the hero’s cheek, “Now remember, eyes on me while I’m speaking to you. We wouldn’t want you to miss anything, would we?”

Trickshot shakes his head slowly, swaying gently in his seat. The motion must’ve made him dizzy.

“Oh you poor thing, can’t even shake his pretty little head on his own. Now tell me love, why are you here?”

To serve you.

“To serve you,” he replies after a moment, voice slurred and monotone.

“Yes! Perfect again,” he grins wickedly, eyes glinting in the dim light, “And how can you best serve me?”

However you ple-

“By giving in to you. Completely.”

Timewarp blinks. That… isn’t the response he had worked to program into the hero. “And how exactly do you plan on doing that, hero?”

“Untie my mask.”

“What?” He leans in close, searching the hero’s eyes for some spark of resistance, but there’s nothing. Only adoration and blind obedience. “I don’t much like practical jokes, you know.”

“I exist only to serve your desires.”

Timewarp grabs the hero’s face, grip tight and punishing “I didn’t tell you to say that, hero. You listen to me.”

“I want you to know.”

“No you don’t!! There are rules!! What is wrong with you?”

“You want to know.”

Timewarp takes a step back. Something is definitely wrong. “No!! I don’t care I never-”

A hand darts out and latches onto his wrist. The ropes that had once bound the hero lay smoldering on the floor. His grip burns, and Timewarp screams.

“Let me go!! What the hell is this?” He tries to pull away, but the hero’s grip is too strong. His eyes glow with his powers, and Timewarp feels himself being drawn into them. They’re just so warm, and bright. It almost feels…

Safe.

Timewarp’s head spins with an all too familiar sensation. His thoughts begin to melt away, weighing him down deeper, and deeper, like molten iron dragging him into the depths of his mind. Just as he’s about to fold under the pressure, a voice comes to him.

“You control me.”

“I… control you.”

“I am yours.”

“You are mine.”

“You have always wanted this.”

“No I…” Timewarp tries to blink, to clear his head, but his eyes are still fixed on Trickshot’s. “I’ve… always wanted this.”

The voice speaks a final time, “You have waited for this moment for a long time.”

He is helpless to resist.

“I’ve waited for this moment… for a long time.”

His hands reach up as if pulled by strings. In the corners of his fixed, burning vision, he sees himself grab the long strips of orange fabric.

He pulls the knot loose, and the mask flutters to the ground.

-

Jameson jerks awake, breath coming fast and heavy. The dream that woke him dances on the edge of his mind, just out of reach, taunting him with its contents. He counts his breaths in… and out, tugging a trembling hand through his sweat drenched hair.

“Babe? Something wrong?” a sleepy voice questions from beside him. Warm arms reach out to wrap around his waist.

The light from the window washes over the room - the city is never truly dark, and Jameson prefers it that way. It also makes it easier to have late night conversations. “Just a dream, sorry,” he signs. He leans down to press a soft kiss to Chase’s lips.

The other man hums, smiling. “S’okay, was it a nightmare? You seem kinda freaked out.”

“I’m… not sure,” his hands pause as he tries to recall the dream. But it’s gone, leaving a strange nagging feeling in its place. “I think you were there?”

Chase sits up with a groan, bones cracking as he stretches. He leans over to pepper Jameson’s neck with light kisses. “Well I guess I wasn’t doing my job, then.”

“And what might that be?” he giggles, pulling Chase closer.

“Keeping you safe and happy,” Chase says, voice quiet and tender. When he pulls back his eyes are shining with adoration. Jameson swears he could melt.

“You’re such a sap, sunflower.”

Chase laughs, “Sunflowers don’t have sap! They have pollen, and seeds,” he pauses, suddenly looking thoughtful. “Do either of those count? Like are they the same thing?”

Jameson thinks for a moment, thrown off by the sudden shift in conversation. “Flowers have nectar, if that’s what you mean?”

“Yeah, that!” Chase grins, “So I’m… a nectar.”

Jameson snorts, “You’re something alright.” He leans in for another kiss, heart swelling. The little offended noise he makes against his lips only makes the feeling double. He loves this boy far too much. It’s not fair.

“Well,” Chase says, pulling away and flopping back on the pillows, “I’m a sleepy something.” He reaches out and caresses Jameson’s cheek, and the other man leans into the touch. “Ready to go back to sleep?”

Jameson nods, returning to his spot curled against Chase’s chest. He’s so warm, and he always knows exactly how to get Jameson’s mind off of things. He can’t decide which he’s more grateful for right now in the cold bedroom.

Chase is snoring before Jameson even manages to get comfortable. He smiles, tilting his head up to kiss just under Chase’s jaw.

After waiting a moment to make sure he’s really asleep, Jameson relaxes and allows his voice to reach out to Chase’s mind. It echoes around gently, pulling the other deeper into sleep.

“Goodnight, sunshine. I love you so much.”

Chase hums, subconsciously pulling him closer, and Jameson drifts back to sleep with a smile still on his face.

[loverness-writes]

Suspension Issues

Warning: Robot Death

Bing was bored. Bored Bored Bored. His skateboard was bust after a handrail trickshot accident and so the only other ‘trick’ vehicle was the communal car.

Unfortunately, the suspension was also bust, due to Wilford not caring about potholes or speed bumps at any capacity. The car needed to be inspected and fixed and Google was tasked with the job. In the meantime, Wilford was banned from the car and egos could only drive at a manageable speed on smooth roads.

However, boredom was taking over and Bing decided to take the car out for a joy ride. It wouldn’t be long. Just some donuts and ramping up the deserted construction dirt hills out back. He was a responsible adult. He knew how to drive. He quickly snatched up the keys and snuck into the garage. He’d only be gone for half-an-hour or so.

Twenty minutes later, Google gets a pager message from Bing. Thinking it a nuisance, he disregards it and continues soldering the new upgrade panels for the security system. Three minutes later, he gets an ‘urgent’ notice from Bing. Google sighs as he puts down his tools. He told Bing he wouldn’t be able to fix his board until the upgrade was done. Bingiplier was an extremely impatient android.

Google followed the GPS coordinates from the notice, but was quickly surprised when it led out the door instead of towards Bing’s room. He was even more surprised when he noticed the coordinates were for behind a dirt pile and there were pieces of glass spread around the corner. He started rushing.

There at the bottom of the hill of dirt lay the car on its right side, front windshield cracked into a million-piece kaleidoscope and both side windows blown out from the impact. Car parts lay broken and warped in the dirt. The front left wheel was bent at an odd angle and the axle looked broken.

A search result popped up immediately. Suspension Spring Collapse. ‘Sudden failure results when a spring, or other weight-bearing part, breaks and is referred to as a collapse. Avoid hitting potholes whenever possible (for this and other reasons) and try to slow down over very large bumps such as driveway openings and speed bumps.’

This could have been avoided if he hadn’t kept putting the repair off. It was only a simple repair. Replace a spring coil or two and check for any other damage. He felt like a stupid robot. A stupid robot with incorrect priorities and a too ambitious ‘to-do’ list.

He walked around the car and dropped to his knees when he found Bing slumped against the inside ‘floor’ of the car, his back semi-resting on the inside of the once-roof of the car. His synthetic skin on his arms and torso was torn from the broken window and impact and oil was leaking out of the missing socket of his right arm. The detached arm lay useless a few feet away.

Google punched through the windshield, careful to do it in a location as to not shower Bing and removed enough glass to make a hole big enough to climb through. Although he didn’t like the idea of climbing INTO the overturned car, Bing was not in a condition to be easily moved. He initiated his scans and assessments. He started to continually glance at Bing’s face which began producing small streams of oil from his eye-sockets once Google began prodding at the damage. Once-in-a-while, Bing’s face would scrunch up from sensory overload. His core hadn’t stopped whirring from overdrive since Google found him. It was one of the only signs that he was still online.

After fifteen long minutes, Google’s final assessment came up ‘negative for repair’. There was too much damage. The amount of work that would need to be done would not leave Bing with enough original parts to be… ‘Bingiplier’. Before Google could share this information, he received an electric shock from Bing’s shaking hand and a pager message popped up on his internal screen.

 “I know.”

 Google couldn’t tell whether the oil on his hands was from Bing’s broken body or from his own face anymore. The two robots sat in silence for the longest minute of Google’s life, he tried to get Bing to say something, anything. But everything he received via message was distorted with letters misplaced. Without speaking, he finally opened the front panel of the android. Sparks shot out continuously and wires were disconnected everywhere. Google reached in and grabbed the main one running from the power source to the core. He felt a shaking, frail hand weakly grip his arm.

“I’m sorry” showed on Google’s lips however, the noise itself was lost in the sound of nearby sirens passing by on a different street to a different location calling towards a different problem. There was no help coming for them. He closed his eyes and yanked the cable, opening them only to find a small smile forming on Bing’s face as the lights in his eyes dimmed faster and faster.

 Everything froze. The mechanics stopped its ceaseless clattering, and the air was deadly still.

 Everyone had some sort of tear on their face sitting around the living room. Dr. Iplier had streams even going around the stiff hands on his face because as a human doctor, he could have done nothing. Bim and King of the Squirrels quietly sobbed while hugging each other on the couch; Bing was the only other in the office who loved adventures. Host stood silently in the corner, however his narrations were kept to short quips and a small track of red ran down his cheek. Wilford was choked up in the armchair because he wouldn’t be able to see Bing’s smiling face for a while; of course he wasn’t dead. Even Dark seemed a little more somber than usual, sitting on the matching armchair; but if you asked him how he was feeling, he’d rather be anywhere else obviously.

Google was off to the side with a blank expression. Work, work, work was the only thing on his mind. The only thing in his programming. That, and his objectives. He had no emotions. Useless things. They brought him too much pain and was interfering with coding. What was the point in charging when the only image behind eyelids was Bing’s tear-tracked, blank, pained face; mechanics whirring with errors and overloads. No, emotional upgrades were removed and buried along with Bing’s parts. They were all useless at this point. Too much sentimental value.

________________

Google’s head snapped up. His sensors were telling him he had been laying hunched over on his hard, wooden desk for the better part of an hour and a half. His internal core was whirring extremely loud and drives under his synthetic skin were spinning fast. His chest kept rising and falling intensely, trying to suck in as much cooling air as possible to slow down his core. A simple scan of his hard-drive registered the message ‘PANIC’ to pop up. ‘sudden uncontrollable fear or anxiety, often causing wildly unthinking behavior.’

Fear. Anxiety. Those were emotions. When did those return? Before Google could scan further and answer his own questions, the Host seemed to appear into the tech workshop. He walked up to Google as somber as ever, hands neatly behind his back.

“The Host asks if Googliplier is alright. He seems to show signs of intense fear and worry. Typically signs of a nightmare.” Then he smirked, “The Host knows the signs well.”

“I’m fine, Host. Androids do not dream. How can I help you?” Google tried to make his face as stoic as possible.

“The Host asks if Google will finally fix the suspension on the car today as he has been putting it off for two weeks now. It has likely become quite dangerous.” As the Host turned to leave, he then added over his shoulder, “The Host had a vision recently that Bingiplier may wish to borrow the car today. He seems quite bored.” and then left from the room.

Google sat at his desk for a minute more before silently rising and thinking his plan over as he reached his destination. He knocked sharp and loud. Soon after, the door opened to Bing leaning against the doorframe, tossing a baseball in the air over and over again.

“Sup, Googs!”

“I request your assistance. The suspension on the communal car needs fixing and the job will be done faster with two robots. Then, uh, it is possible that we can fix your skateboard.”

“Aww sweet! Lemme get my working gloves.”

But this time, Google didn’t roll his eyes at that humanistic comment. He was too busy in his mind, replaying the scene of a dying robot lying slumped over in a broken car.

_______________________________________

For those wondering, let’s just say the Host made sure to transfer that vision along.

Tags:

@iamvegorott

[my-brothers-corrupted]

Chapter Four: Intro

A week after Peru, we find our characters together again. Time to play this game one last time.

tws: choking, threats, mentions of torture

-

Intro

Cold light drifts in through the window of Trickshot’s nest.

He sits with one hand wrapped around Dok’s gun and the other wrapped around Dok’s hand. Clear blue eyes stare out at the cold grey pavement and the sheen of the bulky cars arranged like guardians around the motel with an intensity that has been his as long as you have known him.

And only growing, these days - the steel in his face.

At his side you can make out the familiar shape of his twin, pressed close to his body. Dok is holding him like he’s a rock-climber and Trick is the last thing keeping him pressed to the side of this steep and shifting mountain. You can hear him breathing. Exhausted. Trick plays quietly with his gun.

Maybe, once Anti comes back, he will sleep, but for now he watches, he watches, he watches. Nothing, he promises himself, will take Dok from his side again.

No matter what is coming.

cest-mellow asked: hey trick. you doing okay tonight?

Trick jumps at the beeping and whirls with Dok’s gun gripped, but it’s only Anti’s bag making noises and he rolls his eyes, calming again. You’re watching them through a camera high up on the wall of the hotel, but none of them look up at you.

“Mhh?” comes a confused noise from the other side of the room.

“It’s just the cameras, Blue,” Dok murmurs. “Go back to sleep.”

Blankets shuffle and go quiet again.

“Are you going to get the camera?” asks Dok, who’s mostly squished under his twin’s weight.

Trick purses his mouth and shrugs, turning back to the window. Dok doesn’t protest. He extricates himself from his brother’s limbs and pads over to take you gently from Anti’s bag.

“Hi,” he says, carrying the camera back to the window. “We’re okay, right, Trick?”

“Better when the others come back and we can get out of this shithole,” grumbles Trick.

But for someone who’s putting on a grumpy front, the way he reaches out to push a curl of Dok’s hair from his face sure is fond.

pine-storm-season asked: Hello! Are you guys relatively okay? How are you doing?

Henrik shifts uneasily, gripping his stomach for a second, but his smile comes back quick. “Trick and I are good, yes?”

“We’re fine,” says Trick. “Jet-lagged, tired. Bored. But things are looking up. Anti is finding us a real place to stay. Which is, like, weird, but I think maybe great news?”

“Usually he just finds the first empty house or warehouse or something and we stay there,” explains Dok.

“But this time he says we’re going to stay somewhere nice cause he’s got to help the others to - I mean, to help Dap to readjust. But he’s already doing better than he was a few days ago.”

“I wish Anti wouldn’t take him out for dirty work, though,” grumbles Henrik, turning back to the window. “Not good for him.”

“Oh, come on. There’s nowhere he could be safer than with Anti.”

“Emotionally, though.”

“Emotionally? Anti loves that little shit.”

There’s a slight tension between them. They stare at each other for a second, and then turn away awkwardly, looking back out the window.

“Blue’s not doing so hot, though,” adds Dok after a second, and Trick turns uncertainly back towards the bed behind them, his eyes dark.

Anonymous asked: Blue? Are you okay?

“Blue. Blue!” calls Henrik gently, turning back towards his brother. With both of the twins angled towards you, you can see them better. They’re wearing the same outfit, green jackets over white t-shirts and dark jeans on their legs, but Anti has yet to cut their hair identically again. While Trick’s is vivid green and long and curly in the front, Dok’s is trimmed short, short, short, leaving just a little on the top to stick up. Just the way he likes it. “The cameras have missed you.”

The blankets shift. You hear Blue breathing sleepily.

“You’ve been sleeping all day,” Dok prompts him gently. “Let’s get up and walk around a little.”

Blue groans and tumbles over in bed. Dok smiles and gets up, padding towards him, taking you with and leaving Trick watching uncertainly from the window.

bupine asked: what's wrong with blue?

“What’s wrong with you?” teases Dok, putting you on the bedside table and leaning in over Blue’s blanket-wrapped body, shaking his brother’s shoulder. “Lazy? Sleepy? Just love bed?”

“Siiiiick,” groans out Blue, pushing irritably at his brother’s prodding hands.

“Yeah, he’s been very tired,” says Dok, petting his short white hair. “He - he struggles in the world.”

“They were with me in Singapore,” mumbles Blue. “They know. Just more of the same.”

“I don’t know,” answers Dok, his amusement fading. “I worry you’re only getting more tired.”

The blankets don’t shift. Blue is trying to go back to sleep.

“You are resting too much, love,” Henrik prompts him softly. “Come on, up we get.”

“Too tired.”

“You can do it. Come on. Doktor is in. Give me a hand.”

Reluctantly, Blue allows himself to be pulled up to sit on the bed, his grey face listing wearily.

pine-storm-season asked: Hey, Blue, how are you doing? There was some chaos happening when we last saw you guys.

“Lots of chaos,” murmurs Blue, and he manages to wince and smile at the same time, clutching Dok’s shoulder as he helps him to his feet, pressing his cane into his hands. “What a miserable day.”

“Dap’s okay and we’re okay and it’s going to be alright,” Henrik answers softly, squeezing his palm.

“Mmhhh,” sighs Blue, resting on his shoulder as he rises.

“Walk around with me.”

“There’s nowhere to walk in here.”

“Just around the beds. And then tomorrow we’ll be somewhere new, with a little more space.”

“Or chained up in a basement somewhere.”

“We’ll deal with that if it happens. For now, we hold to hope.”

Henrik gives him his arm and they walk back and forth between the bathroom and the door of the motel room, heads pressed close together. Trick is staring at them with a sort of silence on his face, his eyebrows bunched together and his mouth uncertain. He glances at you and seems to remember you’re there, scowling and turning away from his brothers, curling up in his nest, waiting for Anti to come home.

pine-storm-season asked: Are you okay, Trick?

“Great,” says Trick flatly. “Can we just - why did Anti turn them on again? Now?”

“Stop being a little loser,” chides Blue, stepping over to ruffle his hair.

“Hey!”

“Look at this mess,” giggles Blue, leaning his weight on his back.

“Blue! Get off! Dork, haha!”

He’s smiling when he pushes Blue away, touching his brother’s cheek fondly. “Dumb-ass pretty boy.”

“Aww! You think I’m pretty?”

Despite the teasing, Blue looks genuinely buoyed.

“Yeah, Blue, course you’re pretty. We have the same face, after all. Except Dok, he’s pug-ugly.”

Dok jabs Trick in the side hard enough to make him yelp and Blue is left steadying himself on his cane as Trick lunges for his twin, trying to get him by the ear while Dok yells his protest and tries to dig his fingers back into Trick’s side.

“Hey,” warns Blue suddenly, tearing his eyes away from his brothers’ play-fighting. “Someone’s coming.”

cest-mellow asked: still got those necklaces, henrik?

Henrik turns to you as Trick pulls away from him, his blue eyes flashing. “You bet your ass,” he tells you with gritted, smiling teeth, bared the way a dog bares his fangs. “He keeps burning his fingers trying to take them off me. They’re not going anywhere.”

He wraps his fingers around the three little bumps underneath his shirt.

spicydanhowell asked: blue, dok, i'm so sorry about what happened to you. this isn't forever.

“It is Anti, finally!” cheers Trick, leaping up onto the windowsill and watching for him to reach the door, waving at the trio of brothers coming up the way. “Look, Red’s doing his dreamy thing again.”

Blue and Dok exchange looks, Dok moving to support him again. Blue hides against his hair for a second, breathing in the smell of him again.

“This isn’t forever,” Dok repeats quietly.

“One month, right?” Blue grips his hand.

“One month. I’m with you.”

“I’m with you. I’m here.”

Anonymous asked: How’s noodle doing trick?

“Oh, my gosh! The only question that matters! I’ll get him real quick before Anti comes back!”

Instantly perked up, he races to the middle of the room, where an extra door connects the motel room to the one beside it. He pulls it open - “oh, Dok, give me the camera!” - and carries you inside, where a slinky golden cat races up to greet him, purring and butting his head against his ankles.

Anonymous asked: Cat? Cat? You have cat, noodle cat?

“Who’s my good kitty? Who’s my good baby? Noodle cat, mwah, mwah.”

He scoops his cat up and smothers his head in kisses, devolving into cooing baby talk and rocking his cat against his body while Noodle meows. As reluctant as he is to see you, he loves showing off his cat.

“Okay, baby, stay in here, papa will be back. Yes, you have to, muffin, you know Anti doesn’t want to see you. Who’s my baby? Yes, there’s my Noodle.”

Anonymous asked: How is everyone Trick? Are you doing okay?

“I’m okay! Everyone looks okay, I think.”

Leaving Pot Noodle behind, Trick closes the door gently and returns to Blue’s room, where his siblings have relegated themselves to the bed, watching the door cautiously. Trick steps forward to open it before the others have even reached it, grinning out at the world.

“Hi, Anti,” he says cheerfully.

Anti moves into his space and kisses the side of his head, his eyes boring into Blue and Dok’s as he presses his mouth to Trick’s fervently green hair. Blue turns his eyes away and Dok shrinks in on himself, clutching Blue’s hand.

“Hi-ya,” answers Anti pertly, his eyes flickering from black to blue. His hair grows out fluffy and green to match Trick’s and he draws back to smile at him. “Everything okay?”

“Yes, Anti. Everything okay with you guys?”

“No hitches at all. Not a scratch on anybody. When was the last time you had a kill that easy, Dap?”

Deep blue eyes stare back at Anti from the doorway. Dapper’s hand rests on the wall outside the motel like he can’t quite make himself step in.

But he does.

“Can’t remember,” he signs back in slow movements, removing the jacket from his shoulders. You see Blue stiffen as though injured. Dapper’s dress shirt is soaked in blood. He pulls it off, his expression mildly unhappy, and takes another shirt out of Henrik’s backpack.

“You’ll need a shower first, Dap,” Blue tells him. “It’s on your skin.”

“So it is.” He stares down at his hands.

“Go clean yourself up,” Anti orders. “Go, go. There’s a good boy. You check in with Dok before you fall asleep tonight. Where’s his medicine, Dok?”

“Here, Anti,” replies Dok, patting the bedside table.

“Good, good. So yes! Everyone is okay. Everything is okay. And now that we’ve got that done, we can move in to a new place tomorrow.”

Trick straightens up. “Really? Like a real house?”

“Oh, you’re going to like it, Rikki-Tricki-Tavi,” answers Anti smugly, glitching the blood off his hands. “You’re all just going to love it.”

Anonymous asked: Why does anti not want to see noodle trick? D:

“Anti doesn’t like animals,” Blue reminds you in a whisper, curled up at Dok’s side.

cest-mellow asked: what do you mean by “dreamy thing” trickster?

Red’s behind the others, moving slow and steady, kicking peacefully at a rock. Trick laughs to himself and points you at him, sitting down on the bed with Blue and Dok while Anti moves over towards his computer on the second bed. Everyone watches Red come into the room, his eyes unfocused and faraway, a faint smile on his face.

“Red?” calls Blue.

Red doesn’t answer, shutting the door gently behind him and moving forward - promptly smacking his hip into the minifridge. “Ow!” he yelps, stumbling back and looking up in alarm, confused to see everyone staring back at him.

Trick bursts into laughter, mimicking the way Red’s head was bobbing, as though he were listening to music.

“You spaced out again,” Blue tells him.

“Fuck,” hisses Red, rubbing his hip. “Shut up, Trick!”

“Fucking idiot,” laughs Anti. “Pay attention. Still dreaming of your boyfriend?”

Red flushes, humiliated, and moves towards the door to the other room.

“Camera,” Anti reminds him pointedly, and Red rushes back to grab one from his bag before darting back into the room and shutting the door beside him, leaving Blue staring worriedly after him.

bupine asked: red, are you ok? if you're worried about max, he's ok as far as we know.

“Oh, great,” says Red, still the color of his name, not quite meeting the gaze of you. He’s irritated and fast-moving, shaking his hands out again and again. “Well, that makes everything just peachy, then.”

He forces himself to sit down, staring out the window.

“Sorry. Things have just been weird lately.”

cest-mellow asked: jaki3 are you alright? has anti hurt you, do you have to stay in a separate room?

“No, no, I’m okay,” sighs Red, running his hands through his hair. “I mean, I just watched my baby brother tear this helpless fat guy to shreds, but hey, that’s just my life. Nah, Anti hasn’t hurt me, he just keeps making fun of me. And I can handle that. I think he’s pissed I was with Max at all when he found us. That I let Dap near Max.”

He puts his chin in his hands, his eyes drifting a little again. “Doesn’t like for me to talk about it, so I don’t…”

A smile floats across his mouth. He stares dreamily out the window, his legs swinging over the side of the bed when he sits down.

“Oh! Why am I in a separate room? Anti just got two, that’s all. And we gotta keep the doors closed cause of this little guy.” He pats Noodle’s head and the cat purrs, crawling into his lap. “Blue will come in and sleep with me tonight, though, so I’m not alone.”

pine-storm-season asked: Yeah, they probably have been. Is this a common occurrence, Red?

“I’ve been spacing out a lot, yeah,” grumbles Red, cheeks dark. “Stupid. I keep getting in trouble cause of it. Anti doesn’t think I’m listening to him. So now Trick’s been telling me what to do.”

He rolls his eyes. “Blue and me got in too much trouble lately. Not really top dogs anymore, I guess. But it’s almost a relief. I don’t think I want to have to push anybody around anymore. Anti says I’m going soft on him.”

pine-storm-season asked: Are you and your brothers more equal now, then?

“No, uh, well.” Red laughs. “When I say we’re not on top anymore? Trick’s in charge now. And he’s wrapped around Anti’s fucking pinkie these days. He’ll snap at Dok himself if he thinks he’s getting short with Anti.”

Red’s eyes fall for a moment. He picks at the raggedy sheets on his bed.

“I’m worried about him. Not acting like himself.”

pixie-in-trebleland asked: Hey Red! What's got you distracted?

He shrugs and gives a small smile, though it’s equal parts sad and happy.

“Don’t know,” he says. “I space out sometimes when I’m overwhelmed and stuff. But this isn’t that. I used to be able to focus pretty clearly on right now. But now it’s like… I don’t know. I just keep thinking about different things. I guess I’m thinking more about the future. And not just about making sure everybody’s going to have enough to eat. I can just… imagine things, now, I guess. That I didn’t before. I imagine a different future than I did before.”

He scratches Noodle’s tummy, letting out a low sigh. “But it’s just dreaming.”

The door to his room swings open and he turns to smile at Blue, but it isn’t Blue there.

Trick holds his backpack to his stomach nervously, staring at Red.

“What?”

“Um. Anti told me to stay in here tonight.”

Red straightens up, blinking. “What? In here?”

“Yeah.”

“What, like, share the bed with me? Where’s Blue? And Dok?”

“I don’t know, staying in that bed, I guess,” says Trick, looking stressed.

“Anti wants you and me to stay together?”

“That’s what I said!”

They stare at each other, seeing each other’s discomfort mirrored.

“Anti’s not… taking us away from Blue and Dok, right?”

Trick shrugs, chewing on his lip. “I just got him back,” he mumbles.

cest-mellow asked: anti, why are you separating the boys from their twins..?

“Trick, tell the cameras I don’t answer to them.”

“Cameras, Anti doesn’t answer to you.”

Anti laughs. “You little kiss-ass. I was kidding.”

“Okay, but actually I would… not mind knowing the answer either,” offers Red weakly. “If that’s okay, master.”

“I’m still figuring it out. You’re still twins with your twins. Don’t ask questions, just do what I say.”

Trick stares at Dok, their eyes meeting. Dok tries to reassure him, but his smile is small and afraid, his hands stretched out towards him. Trick tries to smile back.

“It’s late,” says Anti. “We’ll move early tomorrow. Get some sleep.”

Trick swallows and signs good night at Dok before slipping into the second room. Red stares back at him, looking tense.

“Well, this is going to be fun,” says Trick.

In the other room, Anti’s smile has not changed. He stalks towards Blue and Dok. Before they have a chance to say anything, he has a hand on both their throats, pushing them down onto the bed. Blue closes his eyes, trying to breathe slow and calm. Doktor stares back at Anti, his eyes furious and scared.

“You two,” breathes Anti, his eyes drizzling to black, teeth sharpening in his mouth. “Are still trying to be my little trouble-makers, aren’t you? You think I’m going to give you free reign with your twins knowing what you know? Knowing how you feel?”

“Hurt me now and I’ll shout so Red hears me,” threatens Blue, panting.

Anti shoves against his throat, making him choke. “Right. Good luck with that. No, Blue. I still need your body at nights to get me through the sickness I get otherwise. And you, Dok…”

He moves his hand to Dok’s stomach and squeezes. Tears well up in Dok’s eyes, but he does not make a noise.

“Good,” growls Anti. “You know what will happen if you tell him?”

Dok nods swiftly, closing his eyes.

“Then keep your fucking mouth shut. Sooner you break back into shape, the sooner I’ll let you sleep next to Trick again. For now, you stay with me at nights, and you’ll look after Dapper and Blue. Understand?”

Dok nods again, tears washing down his cheeks.

Anti shoves him off the bed. Dok crashes to the ground and scurries into the corner, hiding his face in his thighs.

Blue chokes again, beginning to get desperate for air. Anti crawls over his body and leans down on him, gripping his head to turn his eyes towards him, and there is nothing Dok can do to stop him from possessing his brother once again.

“We’re playing this game just one more time.” Anti licks Blue’s lips, throwing his head and adjusting his clothes, sitting up in the fragile body no matter the strain he causes it. “Just one more time, like Red said. And I intend to fucking win.”

Dapper steps out of the bathroom, toweling off his hair. Doktor will not look at him. Anti looks back at him with Blue’s eyes.

Something hot and painful twists inside his gut, but when Anti reaches out for him, he goes quietly, and he lays down at his brother’s side like he always does.

Playing this game just one more time.

Henrik wraps his fingers around the ravens on his chest and he grits his fierce teeth in his mouth.

Well, then. Let’s play.

.

Dapper waits until Anti is asleep.

He does not like to be touched by him, these days. He does not want to be held. He does not want to share a bed. Especially when it is Blue beside him, trapped beneath Anti’s power. He does not want to see his sibling in pain.

Anyway, he can see Dok trembling in the bed beside his own.

He slips out from beneath Anti’s arms wrapped around his throat, pausing to make sure his breathing stays heavy and thick. When Anti does not wake, Dapper slinks to his feet and touches Dok’s shoulder.

Dok jumps so hard he nearly slams their heads together. Dapper holds him gently down and rubs his shoulder, waiting for him to calm.

“What?” whispers Dok, astonished. “Dap, are you - ”

He holds a finger to his mouth and takes Dok’s hands, pulling him out of bed and leading him to the bathroom.

“Are you okay, Dap?”

“Sit on the counter.”

“What?”

“Sit,” he repeats, pushing him. “Sit, sit.”

Dok has been crying. His face is still red. He turns his head away and hoists himself onto the counter, staring at Dapper like he might be the one possessed.

“What, I never given you an order before?”

“I don’t believe you have,” replies Dok. “Or woken me up for anything.”

“Usually you have Trick to look after you,” answers Dapper, and he reaches for Dok’s shirt.

Dok’s hands grab his own, his eyes wide.

Dapper looks back at him, not letting go.

“Don’t look,” breathes Dok, his voice shaking. “Don’t, there’s… I’m self-conscious, I…”

Dapper laughs again, his random, wild laugh without any noise but a humorless huffing.

“Did Anti tell you?” asks Dok, feeling his cheeks heat.

Dapper snorts and shakes his head. He helps Doktor pull the shirt over his head.

“Anti doesn’t have to tell me anything,” he replies shortly, taking the med kit from beneath the sink. “I know everything he does. You shouldn’t have tried to stitch this up yourself.”

Dok closes his eyes as Dapper’s hands run over the deep cut in his stomach, coated in struggling stitches.

“They’ll hold.”

“Since when do you know anything about stitches?” whispers Dok.

“Since I’ve bandaged myself and Red up a hundred times before, that’s since when.” He gets antiseptic from the bag and begins cleaning the wound. “I don’t like to be under-estimated, my darling.”

“I thought that was how you survived,” Dok pants back, staring at him.

Dapper doesn’t answer.

“I don’t know what’s going on with you these days,” says Dok, coughing at the pain as Dapper cleans the wound Anti gave him. “I’m scared you’re still suicidal and you won’t tell anyone. Your expressions are always wrong and I don’t know if it’s the schizophrenia or something else going on with you. I want to say you’re not acting right, but the truth is, I don’t remember how you used to act. Or who you used to be… I think a different person than this.”

Dapper looks up at him for a second, and then away.

“Are you angry, Dapper?”

He gets a bandage out of the bag and begins pressing it onto the wound, tearing away the sticky sides of the big white band-aid.

“Are you still suicidal?”

“No one here knows me,” Dapper tells him suddenly, his hands nearly in his face. “Let’s not pretend that you do.”

Henrik stares back at him, his face still hot from crying.

Dapper softens again, brushing water from his cheeks.

“I love you,” he says. “I know how to take care of myself. You should do the same. Tell Anti what he wants to hear, take the necklaces off, and go back to your twin. Be grateful you have the chance to earn one.”

“Don’t say that to me,” whispers Henrik. “I know that’s not what you want. I know. We all saw how badly you wanted things to change on the side of that cliff, Dapper. Don’t lie to me.”

Dapper watches the floor.

“I love you,” Dok adds, touching his cheek. “Even if I don’t know who you are… whoever that person is, I love him.”

Dapper closes his eyes for a second. He looks up again a moment later, his eyes tired, and he leans in to kiss Dok’s cheek, holding the back of his head.

“I love you too. But Anti is going to keep doing things like this to you. And I know you won’t tell Trick.”

“I can’t watch him get hurt because of me.”

“I know.”

“You looked after me just now. I want to look after you too. And Anti says I can. Promise me you’ll be honest with me, Dapper. I can’t watch you go back to the place you were in last week.”

Dapper stares at him for a long time.

“And I can’t watch you go back to being Anti’s favorite thing to hurt.”

Henrik’s mouth parts. He isn’t sure what to say.

“None of you know how hellish Anti could make your life, really,” whisper Dapper’s hands. “You, and all of our siblings, and anyone on the cameras - none of you know. I am the only one who remembers. I am the only one who still has the nightmares. I am the only one who still carries that. Doktor. Don’t make Anti angry again. If you think that what you remember is bad… you don’t want to remember the rest.”

Dapper kisses him again, on the heel of his palm, and for a second, the emotion on his face is real and right and true, and he does not laugh.

“Go back to sleep, H-healing,” he signs. “And don’t risk your life and your sanity on the promises of ravens.”

He draws away from him, his blue eyes dark. Henrik sits on the counter for a long time, in silence, his hand over the bandaged wound in his side.

[a-heist-of-words]

“Where are they?” - JSE Fanfic

It was "that day" of "those days".

That day when everything just went to shit, so anything that happened on top of that was just... might as well, you know?

I had just finished recording a video, but not trickshots for my channel or even an "I'm sorry I've been inactive for a while" vlog. This was for a friend. My best friend. 

He had many more subscribers than me, and it should stay like that. He'd worked so hard for it all... it wouldn't be fair if it just... went away. I had only a couple thousand, and I'm sure most of them were bots anyways.

I looked enough like him that I could pretend to be him, but I didn't have his attitude. His fans noticed, but they were willing to buy into the fiction. Until that video...

It wasn't my fault, alright? I didn't know that the game would hit so hard, so close to home. But, for a second, I forgot what channel I was recording for, and I let my true identity slip. By the time I noticed, there was no more time to record again, so I just let it upload like that. The fans would be more upset by a missing video than by my little mishap.

People noticed. Of course they did. The others immediately sent me messages. I'd failed. Again. I had one job, and I'd failed. They'd handle my mess, they said. I should just sit tight and do nothing. Well, that was one thing I could do.

I remember the lights flickering and then going out. Power outage. Great. At least the video was up, I thought as I lit a few candles. The tiny flames made my body cast long shadows on the walls. It was an eerie reminder that I was all too real, along with all the things I'd done wrong. I needed a drink.

I remember pouring myself the first glass, the first sip of liquid fire running down my throat, numbing it so I couldn't feel the second, the third...

Then, my phone rang. I had a special ringtone for her. I had a special everything for her, even if, for her, I was nothing special.

"Stacy?" I answered, trying to keep my words from slurring, which of course made it all the worse. But she didn't comment on it. She sounded this close to panicking.

"Chase, are the kids with you?" she asked. "No, I took them to your mother's, like you asked," I replied. "She says they're not there. Chase, I swear to God..." "They're not here!" I said, perhaps a bit too harshly. I took a deep breath. When I exhaled, I heard something... was that... laughter?

"Hold on... I... I think they're here?" I said, my voice rising to a question. But I had taken them home, hadn't I? I had dropped them off right at the door, I had told them I loved them, and they had gone in, and then I had come back to record and upload my... Jack’s... video.

Then again, they were very smart kids. They could've come back, found their way back, to spend more time with me. The thought made me smile, a bit of short-lived hope. They wanted to be with Daddy.

Stacy was quiet for a few seconds, but I knew her well enough to sense the anger through the phone. "I'm on my way." "Stacy, wait...!" I started, but she had already hung up. 

Great. There went my weekend privileges. I heard more laughter, a precious sound that somehow seemed out of place in this dark house that wasn’t even mine. All of Jack’s recording stuff was here, and his home was much nicer than my apartment anyways... 

I got up, leaving the empty glass next to my hat and the one picture Stacy let me keep of them.

"Sweetie?" I called. The hallways were very dark, even for this time of night. The candlelight was soon engulfed by shadows. I struck my lighter a couple of times. I didn't smoke, but I had always carried a lighter around, just in case. "Come on..." I muttered at the sparks. I had to get a new lighter; this one was dying.

The tiny flame was enough for me to more or less see where I was going. I heard them giggling again, and I walked following the sound. It was not time for hide and seek... but then again, it was always time for hide and seek. Anything they wanted.

When they started screaming, that's when I started running. I heard other voices, whispers, coming from seemingly all around me. And then crying. I couldn't tell which one it was, but I knew it was one of my kids. And they were scared... No. They were terrified.

A door on the far end of the hallway opened, and unnatural red light poured out. I was blinded for a second, used to the tiny amber glow of my lighter. When my eyes adjusted, I could see a black silhouette in the doorway. It seemed to warp and unfocus, but it wasn't my eyes playing tricks on me. I was not drunk enough for this. No... this man, this creature, whatever it was... it was glitching in and out of existence all on its own.

"Who's there?" I called, trying to sound braver than I felt.

He turned around slowly, the red light hiding most of his factions. But I could tell he was smiling, the hideous grin of a predator, of a monster. One of his eyes glinted, a strange green shine that I could only relate to a lens flare in the movies. I felt like I was floating and falling, my mind trying to separate from my body and still very much grounded in this living nightmare it was trying to escape.

"Where are they?" I asked, and my voice sounded far away and underwater. I could no longer hear my children, and I hoped in vain that they were hiding, and I knew with terrifying certainty that they were not. "What do you want from me?!"

He didn't answer. He sauntered towards me. His body seemed solid enough, but he seemed to warp through reality. I could see his face better now. He was like me, but he was not me. He was not from this world. The last thing I saw before his hand clamped around my throat were his eyes, blacker than the nothing that consumed me as I finally collapsed.

[blancheludis]

@whumptober2020, Day 1 “Hanging”

Fandom: Avengers, Hawkeye Characters: Clint Barton, Barney Barton, Trickshot Tags: Angst, Hurt Clint, Family, Brothers, Circus, Hanging Words: 3.413

Summary: Clint and Barney promised to protect each other when they ran away from home, so Clint does not know how he ended up here, with a bruise the shape of his brother’s shoe on his back and a rope around his neck. “Do you know what they do to horse thieves?” 

---

Clint does not hear them coming until it is too late. He sits outside of a barn and watches the horse graze. Between his lips is a long straw that he chews on absentmindedly as he wonders how different life must be for the man owning this land, how satisfying it must be to have a barn and golden fields, to grow things with his own hands.

The circus, he has learned quickly, is just another cage, albeit one where he gets to know the world, town by miserable town. Bitterness does not suit him, though, so he does not ponder might-have-beens too long.

Clint only came out here to give his favourite horse some time to stretch its legs. Everybody is too busy and he is done with his chores for the day – as long as no one catches him lazing about, at least.

By the time the rock hits his shoulder, it is too late to wonder whether he should have asked permission to come out here. Clint’s head snaps up as he scrambles to his feet, knowing too well that staying down and making himself small will not save him from trouble.

Just a few feet away from him stands Trickshot, grinning at him with that cruel twist to his lips that everybody in the circus knows to be wary of. And there, right at his side, is Barney. Clint hides his sigh of relief. If his brother is here, things will not get too bad.

“What are you doing out here, Barton?” Trickshot calls. As always, he raises his voice a bit too much, despite Clint wearing his hearing aids. The volume only makes the nasty emphasis he puts on Clint’s name clearer.

People in the circus call Barney also Barton, but he has somehow climbed their ranks more quickly, became of one of them more easily, while Clint is still lagging behind, trying to gain some respect. He is Barton the Useless or Barton the Dumb. Someone said that, if Barney ever lost a limb or an eye during a performance, it would not be so bad because they could just take one of Clint’s and replace them. Lately, Barney has stopped protesting these things so loudly. Only, of course, to give Clint a chance to stand up for himself.

“Beth looked restless, so I thought I’d take her out,” Clint replies and nods at the horse. He never takes his eyes off Trickshot.

If his father taught him one thing, it is to never look away from danger. While Clint is still far enough away from them and has not done anything wrong, it is better to be wary. With the circus stranded in the middle of nowhere while the flu is going around, people are getting bored. And boredom seldom breeds good things.

Trickshot nods and takes a few steps towards the horse, looking like he will accept Clint’s answer. Barney frowns, though, and that is enough of a waning.

The fields around the barn are flat and barren, offering no hiding spots. Clint is quick and since Trickshot does not seem to have his bow with him, he stands a chance to outrun them if it comes to that. The problem is, he does not have anywhere to run to. There is no hiding in a circus, so Clint stands his ground.

He notices too late that by staying where he is, he let Trickshot circle him so he is in front of Clint, while the barn – and his brother – are in Clint’s back.

“And who gave you permission for that?” Trickshot asks, quieter now, the grin replaced by a warning.  

All the animal handlers are sick, Clint could have said. Or that his main task is to be useful to the others. Instead, he raises his chin. “Nobody.”

He still does not move when Trickshot walks over to him, although the hairs in his nape stand up. It is easy to pretend that he is not afraid, right until Trickshot is right in front of him. Growing up, Clint’s father did not teach him self-preservation. Just that sometimes it is easier to not dodge the first hit – and that sometimes his instincts are wrong.

“Do you know what they do to horse thieves?” Trickshot asks, his tone now mostly just a whisper.

Shaking his head, Clint takes a step back. “I didn’t steal her.” He should know better than to argue. That never solved anything. But he is tired of others making up reasons of why he is supposedly in the wrong. Things were supposed to change to the better once they left home.

Clicking his tongue, Trickshot looks at him with mock-disappointment. The glint in his eyes is real, though. “You had no business touching her and yet you were out here riding as if you’re worth something.”

Clint cannot help the quick glance he throws at Barney, hoping for protest, for some assistance. He knows he does not have much to offer to the world, but it hurts when his own brother just stands there, like a wall in Clint’s back – and not the protective kind.

“I didn’t mean anything, I promise.” Clint switches gears from defiant to submissive quickly. He does not want to get beaten, does not want to always be someone else’s punching bag. “Billy is sick and she was looking sad so –”

A shadow appears at Clint’s side but his relief at his brother’s presence is short-lived. “Shut up, idiot.” Barney snaps in a rough voice. He sounds like he does not particularly like what is happening, but that does not stop him from playing along. “This could be easier if you just stopped lying.”

Their father always accused them of things. Lying, stealing, weakness. If there was no reason to get angry, he made one up. At this moment, with the setting sun in Clint’s eyes, Barney looks so much like their father that cold fear gathers in the pit of Clint’s stomach.

“Barney, you know –” he tries but knows it is useless before Barney cuts him off.

“I know nothing.”

You promised, Clint wants to yell, You promised you’d protect me. Their father used to promise things too, he remembers. He never kept those either. Clint is sure the betrayal he feels must be clear on his face. They used to be allies against their father’s rage. It is not fair that Barney just stands there, delivering Clint to his fate when that is what they ran away from, months ago.

“Now, to get back to my question,” Trickshot drawls, apparently unhappy at not being the centre of attention anymore. Clint turns his head back to him only sluggishly, reeling with simmering anger. “Do you know what they do to horse thieves?”

Judging on the manic glint in Trickshot’s eyes, something very unpleasant. Clint does not understand how he managed to draw their ire, especially Barney’s. They must know he was not going to steal the horse. Where would he even go with it? Yet they look like he is guilty, like he cannot change their mind no matter what he says.

“I don’t know,” Clint says, trying for a strong voice. By now, he is sure he will get beaten up. It is inevitable, but while beatings are never pleasant, he is at least used to them. As long as he pretends his brother is not there, he will manage. But he cannot deal with the fear of his brother turning into a copy of their father.

“Why, you should always know what the punishment is before you commit a crime.” Trickshot smiles but there is something unholy in the twist of his lips.

He steps forward, crowding Clint back until he is pressed against the wall of the barn. Whoever owns it will not be pleased to find blood on their property the next morning. If it comes to that. Clint is still holding out hope that Trickshot just wants to scare him.

Almost like he wants to caress Clint, Trickshot raises a hand and traces it over Clint’s throat.

“Horse thieves,” he says almost gently, voice rough with what could be a caress but is probably anticipation, “are hanged.”

A tremble runs through Clint’s body before the words even fully register, before he realizes that, no matter whether Trickshot is telling the truth, this is his cue to run. He never manages to make a single step, however, because the hand around this throat tightens suddenly, cutting off his air supply.

It feels worse than when his father used to hit him in the stomach and he could not breathe because of the pain. Then, he had something else to concentrate on. Now, there is nothing but the terrible pressure around his neck and the words echoing hollowly inside his brain.

Hanging. He has seen all kinds of bruises and broken bones and is no stranger to blood. Once, someone was shot in their street and he still remembers the noise of it. Hanging, however, belongs in movies, not in real life.

Before Clint remembers that he has arms he can use to fight, Barney appears next to him and puts his hands on Clint’s shoulders. Surely, they just want to scare him. Barney will not let Trickshot hurt him. Not seriously, in any way, nothing more than slaps. They take care of each other, after all.

“Let’s get him inside,” Trickshot then says, however, and Barney’s grip tightens immediately, without any hesitation.

Clint tries to swallow around the pressure on his throat. He struggles, of course he does, but they pick him up like he weighs nothing and all his kicking meets only thin air.

Inside the barn, it is darker, which only heightens Clint’s panic. One moment, he is held aloft by two pairs of uncaring arms, the next he is falling and crashing hard into the ground. Not wasting time, he rolls to the side and scrambles away from them before he gets to his feet.

Until his eyes get used to the dimness, all he sees are two menacing shadows blocking out the light coming in through the barn door. All of this feels far more sinister than a simple beating because Trickshot was bored.

Feverishly, Clint searches for a possible exit that will not mean squeezing by the two bigger boys. All that does is waste precious seconds he could have used to formulate a plan of attack.

“My, my, Barton,” Trickshot says. He could sound soothing if his grin was not so cruel. “You’re right where you’re supposed to be. Just hold still.” Then he walks forward, trapping Clint with ease.

That, at least, pushes Clint into finally moving. No matter his chances, he cannot just stand there and wait for what they have in store for him. He makes it all of five feet before strong arms close around him and Barney rips him back, pinning him in place so he can do nothing but watch Trickshot’s approach.

From somewhere, Trickshot produces a rope. Thinner than the kind they use to secure the tent. A shiver runs down Clint’s spine as he stares at it in horror. They came prepared. Trickshot and his brother did not just catch him outside and decide to teach him a lesson. They must have actively decided to come look for him and talked about what to do – and decided to bring a rope to hang him.

Clint is almost glad he cannot take his eyes away from the rope. Otherwise, he might have tried to twist out of Barney’s grasp to look at him, and he is sure he would not like what he would find there. Rage did funny things to their father’s face, twisting it into something they could not recognize and that dashed all hopes for mercy. Clint does not know what would scare him more if he looked up – seeing his brother’s features or those of a stranger.

When Trickshot comes closer with the rope, Clint’s body comes back to life. He lets himself drop like a stone, hoping to unbalance Barney so he can slip out of his grasp. But Barney is the one who taught him how to fight, so he never stood a chance.

For a moment, Barney’s arms do loosen around him, but before Clint can use that to his advantage, he is pushed down and a foot kicks him in the side, right where he broke his rib a few weeks ago. Immediately, pain flares up, shooting through his bones. He should know better than to let that paralyze him – he knows pain, after all – but he freezes just long enough to allow Trickshot to move over him.

The next things he knows is something scratchy slipping over his head and coming to rest against his throat. It tightens just enough that is aware of its presence. While he can still breathe, all rational thoughts flee his mind.

This is real. Trickshot and Barney really mean to hang him. Here in some barn so far away from home that nobody will even know him when they find him. He will likely not even get a grave but end up in a ditch somewhere. Just another miserable youth vanished into nothing.

He will die. After years of surviving their father, after running away from home with Barney. After thinking he could prove the world wrong and make something of himself. Clint Barton will die here because he felt pity for a circus horse and took her outside for a few minutes.

The rope tightens a bit more and that is what finally pushes Clint into a full-blown panic. With a muffled yell, he grabs blindly for the feet in front of him and kicks behind him, hoping to get himself some space so he can get up. He punches and scratches and barely feels the blows raining down at him in return. Distantly, he hears voices but cannot understand what they are saying. He knows the tone, knows they are not meant to soothe him.

Clint fights, utterly certain that his life depends on it. Suddenly, one pair of legs disappears in front of him, but it only feels like a victory for a few, panicked heartbeats.

“Just stay down, man,” Barney says somewhere in Clint’s back, but Clint has no intention of following that order.

Before he can do anything else, however, the rope tightens further to the point of being painful. Worse, it tugs at his neck, pulling him up. Clint’s hands shoot to his throat, trying to find a nook somewhere to slip between the rope and his skin. The air becomes thin in his lungs, finding no way through his windpipe anymore, causing the blood to pump painfully inside his head.

Once Clint realizes he will not get free like this, he follows the pull and gets to his knees, glad when the pressure lifts a bit. Looking up, his legs grow weak enough that he almost falls right down again.

There is Trickshot, grinning madly like they are all just having fun with each other. The rope does not hang directly between them anymore. Instead, Trickshot threw it over one of the ceiling beams of the barn. Without taking his eyes off Clint, he tugs at the rope, laughing when Clint is pulled further up in response, trying to escape the pressure.

“Well, let’s get this going,” Trickshot says, sounding like he does not have a care in the world.

“No,” Clint croaks, but that is as far as he gets. If there is a later, he might be glad he did not have the air left to beg, but right now he would have done anything to delay the inevitable.

“Get up on your legs, Barton,” Trickshot calls and does not give Clint a chance otherwise by pulling on the rope with both of his hands now. “Or do you want to die on your knees?”

“Barney,” Clint wants to call but all that comes over his lips is a panicked gurgle. He still fights against the rope but it does not give.

He breaks when he sees Barney step next to Trickshot, his arms crossed and his face unmoved. He looks at Clint like he is nothing but a bug waiting to be crushed under his heel.

This is happening and Barney will just watch him die.

Sudden warmth spreads from Clint’s groin as he loses control over his bladder. It does not even fully register until Trickshot laughs again. Clint would have thought the panic would not leave any room for shame but here he is, ready to give in.

The pull on his throat grows and Clint gets up on his shaking legs. The rope loosens just enough to allow some air into his burning lungs and he gasps for it like a drowning man. What would his father say if he saw him like this? He would probably be as disgusted as Barney looks.

“My, you can listen if you want to,” Trickshot coos, smiling again even though his eyes stay dark. “You bring no money for the circus, Barton, and we don’t feed worthless mouths.” He leans closer and almost nonchalantly puts more pressure one the rope for a few moments. “We don’t need little thieves.”

Clint cannot answer. He is scratching at the unforgiving rope around his neck, feels his fingernails break without achieving anything.

It is not his fault that they have not yet found a job for him. For now, he helps to build up and break down the tents, he assists backstage, he feeds the animals, he mends things. If they would let him, he would try his hand at any of the tricks, would work hard to get it right. Now, it seems like he will not get the chance.

Clint manages to take only a couple more shaky breaths before Trickshot gets impatient. This time, he does not tug slowly at the rope but causes Clint’s head to snap up with the force of the movement. It does not stop, either, but lifts him right off his feet until he is suspended in the air.

Dark spots appear in his vision as the burning in his throat becomes unbearable and his lungs scream. His body twitches uncontrollably, trying desperately to reach solid ground. He does not find any and soon the only thing that still exists in the world is pain. Then everything goes dark.

 ---

When Clint wakes up, he is alone. It is pitch black around him but he feels straw beneath him, so he thinks he is still in the barn. Judging on the way his throat burns, he is not dead, although he never bought into those nice little stories of paradise, where everybody is happy and nothing hurts. He probably would not end up there anyway. They must know he is a Barton and refuse him entry on principle.

A groan builds in his throat as he tries to sit up, but he swallows it quickly, wincing at the pain. He still raises a hand to poke at the sore skin. There is no blood, at least, but it stings like mad and even the inside of his throat feels raw, his tongue swollen.

Clint pokes it again, just to distract his brain from the wet spot in his pants that he feels clearly now that he is moving. How pathetic he is, just like his father always said. If he were useful, if he could show all of them that he is worth something, that he can bring the circus money, they would never dare to touch him. They would not allow Trickshot to touch him.

White, searing anger unfolds in Clint’s stomach as he thinks of Trickshot. He cannot be angry at Barney. All they have left in this world is each other. But Trickshot – all he does is shoot arrows at targets. He even misses sometimes and Clint knows he has been beaten for that.

If Clint could shoot, nobody could ever sneak up on him again. He could keep everybody well away from him. And he could steal Trickshot’s job as revenge.

Well, Clint thinks, as he sits in the dark barn, trying to get his throat to work properly. They just said he is a thief. He might as well prove them right and get himself a bow. Shooting arrows cannot be that hard, after all.

[scaryteddybear]

Hurricane - A SDMN Fic

CHAPTER ONE

“For fucks sake Skye!” Kaylyn exclaimed with egg dripping from her head. “I’m done, I’m done,” Kaylyn rose from the seat and walked away from the cameras view. After getting a paper towel from Sandra and wiping her face she ended her video with a quick bye.

Kaylyn turned the camera off and looked at her friends.

“You should take a shower,” Jenny said and Kaylyn laughed a little.

“Yeah, that’s a good idea. Do you wanna help clean up afterwards?” She answered.

“Sure,” Sandra said, and the others nodded.

Kaylyn walked to her room and grabbed a change of clothes and a towel. She went to the shower and washed her hair and body quickly, getting rid of all the egg, yoghurt and frube. She dried herself with the towel and blew her hair dry.  After putting on the clothes and jamming to some music she went into the living room to help clean up.

It didn’t take long to tidy up since they had put down some tarp on the floor and just had to throw it outside. Kaylyn grabbed her camera and put it in her room before walking into the kitchen to talk with the rest of the girls.

They mostly sat on their phones, going on Twitter and liking and retweeting fans posts, and chatted about random stuff. After a while it was time for Skye and Sandra to go back to their apartment just a few blocks away and Kaylyn walked them to the door.

“Football tomorrow, yeah?” Kaylyn asked.

“Yep, we’ll see you at the pitch. Be there at nine,” Skye answered with a smile. The girls waved goodbye and the door closed.

 Now it was only Kaylyn and Jenny left considering they lived together.

“Do you want to order food?” Jenny asked Kaylyn when she got back into the kitchen.

“Yes! I’m starving. TGIF?” Kaylyn requested and Jenny nodded in response.

Kaylyn quickly dialed the phone number to TGIF and ordered their usual.

“I’m gonna go and start editing, watch the door will you?” Kaylyn said and without waiting for an answer she went into her room and turned on her computer.

 30 minutes later Jenny knocked on Kaylyn’s door and mentioned that the food was there. Kaylyn got up from her seat and followed Jenny to the kitchen where they started to devour the food without much conversation. When they were done and had put away the plates they went into their rooms and started to work on the content they put on YouTube.

At around 9 PM British time they put out their videos. A “Patience Test” for Kaylyn and a “January Favorites” for Jenny.  When that was done Kaylyn went into the bathroom and started to get ready for bed, she was soon joined by Jenny.

“How are you feeling about tomorrow Kay?” Jenny asked.

“I’m excited! It’s been quite a while since we did some football challenges,” Kaylyn responded. Their night routine was swiftly done and they once again went their separate ways after bidding goodnight.  

  Jen and Kay arrived to the pitch a little late, but lucky for them Sandra and Skye were already there, doing some keepy ups while waiting.

“Great you’re here, let’s get going!” Sandra said when the girls were in hearing distance.

Everyone laughed as they started to set up their cameras. Jenny and Kaylyn quickly warmed up and they started to do the videos. First up was Skye’s “Call out penalty challenge”. Sandra stood in goal while the others said to the camera which part of the goal they were going to attempt to score in.

“So Jenny won. No surprise, Sandra’s shit in goal,” Skye told the camera.  

“Hey! Fuck off!” Sandra interrupted. All girls giggled and Skye finished doing her outro.

“What’s up next?” Kaylyn asked.

“We’ll do my blind penalties?” Sandra replied in a questioning tone. They all agreed and Sandra began setting up her cameras.

While she was doing that some noises came from the metal door leading to the pitch, Kaylyn looked over to the ruckus and saw a group of guys trying to get in. She looked over to Jenny and after seeing Jenny nod they walked over to the door. On their way there the boys stopped trying to get in.

When they got closer they could make out the features of the boys, who we’re more like young adults than teenagers, and what was most prominent was the way a few of them roamed their eyes over the girls bodies.

“Do you need anything?” Jenny asked with a smirk.

“You don’t reckon you could let us in?” a blond boy in the front asked.

“I don’t know. We’re kinda busy over here. Can’t you take another pitch?” Jenny answered sweetly.

“It’s occupied everywhere else. You’re not even using the entire place!” the blond boy ranted.

“Sorry buddy. We got here first. Maybe come earlier next time,” Kaylyn explained with a small smirk.

With that said they turned around and walked back to their friends, not so discreetly high-fiving.

“What did they want?” Sandra asked after kicking a ball, trying to hit the crossbar.

“Only wanted to use the pitch. Doesn’t matter though, they’re not getting in,” Jenny answered with a mischievous smile.

“Well, you didn’t get them to leave. They’re still at the door,” Skye pointed out.

Kaylyn just shrugged, “Sandra, you ready?”

Sandra nodded in response and they began doing the video. It went smoothly, if you count smoothly as only one person scoring, and they were soon starting their third video of the day “crossbar challenge” and then the fourth “woodwork challenge”.  After all the videos were done it was time for lunch, so they packed everything into their bags and went on a search for the nearest Nando’s.

There they got a little surprise – a group of boys who wanted to play football on the very same pitch the girls played on. Only the guys were there, so they were all alone. When they first opened the door into the restaurant the girls were laughing about how Skye tripped on the way. They didn’t notice the boys until they had sat down in a booth and began looking through the menus.

“Oh, fuck,” Jenny whispered when she noticed the other group.

“What’s wrong?” Sandra asked.

“The ones sitting over there are the boys that we didn’t let into the pitch,” Jenny whispered.

“So?” Skye said.

“I don’t know. I just pointed it out” Jenny defended herself.  

“Well, why don’t we just ignore them like we ignore the haters?” Kaylyn said with a giggle.

“Yaass gurl,” Skye laughed.

They ordered their food and while they waited social media took up their time. Just when the food arrived the boys left, the blonde one that Kay and Jen had spoken to giving them a glare. Kaylyn met his eyes and gave him a smirk, although that seemed to make him angrier considering he flipped her off when he went outside.

“Hey, are we uploading the football vids today?” Kaylyn asked in between chewing her food.

“I think so. We’ll have all afternoon editing anyways. You two are coming over to our place right?” Skye answered.

“Yeah, I think so. We just have to go and get our stuff,” Kaylyn responded.

When they had finished eating they separated ways, only to meet up again soon after.  

  About a week later the girls were once again back at the football pitch. They were just warming up, thinking about which videos they wanted to film and generally having a good time.

“For fucks sake!” Jen exclaimed before metal clanging was heard from the door. The girls looked over and once again the boys were there.

“I’ll go,” Kaylyn offered before anyone said anything. She quickly walked over to the door and stood in front of it with a raised eyebrow and her arms crossed.

“Can you let us in?” a bearded man asked.

“Is the rest taken?” she responded.

“Yes,” the blonde boy she had spoken to before cut in.

Kaylyn thought for a moment, but before she could say anything the guy continued.

“You lot are YouTubers, yeah?” after seeing her nod he kept going “so are we, and it’s been quite a while since we’ve uploaded a football video. Can you just let us in?”

“Sure,” she gave in, “just stay on one half of the pitch and don’t disturb us, okay?”

Kaylyn opened the door, and the boys streamed in.

“Not even a thank you?” she uttered before closing the door.

“Thank you!” the blonde boy yelled back.

Kaylyn just shook her head before walking back to the girls.

“Why’d you let them in?” Sandra asked.

“Because they’re YouTubers like us,” was Kay’s simple answer.

After finally deciding what to do they started filming.  It was quite annoying though hearing laughs and screams come from across the field. Along with balls that had been shot in the wrong direction. One time Kaylyn looked at the boys and saw that even if they fucked around they did have some skills, especially the blonde boy and the one in the snapback. She watched one of them execute a great trickshot for a penalty.

And when the girls didn’t watch the boys, but were concentrated on their own thing the boys were watching them.

“They’re quite good, innit?” Ethan said to Simon and Tobi who were watching the girls do penalties. One of them managed to put it top bins and all the other girls went crazy.

“Yeah, they are aren’t they? And they’re quite good looking to,” Simon answered with a cheeky smile.

“Harry, crossbar!” Josh yelled.

Harry took a ball and shot it towards the crossbar, which it hit. But he did underestimate the power and the ball bounced back towards the girls side. And unfortunately it hit one of their cameras.

“Oh shit!” Harry exclaimed and at the same time Jenny yelled angrily “what the fuck, you dickhead!”