#wwoww anti

[wwoww-au]

Family Business

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  Henrik jumped instinctually when he heard a knock on the door of the clinic. He was still getting used to Yan’s frequent visits; the only person who normally stopped by outside of patients was Jackie, and even then those were scheduled. He opened the door and was greeted by the red-haired ball of joy themself.

    "Good afternoon, Henrik." Yan beamed and moved past him into the clinic, only speaking again once the door was closed. "I got those books you asked for." They put their messenger bag down onto the counter and began emptying its contents; two leather-bound books with yellowing pages and ancient symbols etched into the cover.

    "Thank you, Yan. You’ve been a great help," Henrik said. 

    "It’s no trouble." Yan handed the books to the doctor. They then rummaged through their bag again, pulling out a tupperware container. "I also brought cookies. B ate most of them while I was at the Library though..."

    "You didn’t have to..."     Henrik trailed off when he heard a shout from the basement. But this was different from when he normally heard Anti shouting from the basement, this time he sounded... happy? There was a loud rhythmic thumping of Anti running up the stairs before the trap door burst open and he stumbled out into the room. 

    "I’ve made a breakthrough!" Anti was beaming, holding out a piece of notebook paper covered in his messy handwriting. 

    "Anti, as exciting as that is, please check next time you come stomping up the stairs,” Henrik scolded, worry creasing his brow. “What if Jackie had been here? Or someone from the Crime Department? You really ought to be more careful." Still shaking his head, he took the paper from Anti and began reading. 

"Yeah, yeah, I know." Anti rolled his eyes. "Just shut up and listen. I was poring over that old book of remedies Yan brought over a couple of days ago and after brushing up on my ancient Greek, I was able to translate the recipe for a potion that stalls the symptoms of corruption. Not exactly a cure, but it’s a start."  He turned his attention to Yan, eyeing the container in their hands. "You brought food? You’re the best." He grabbed the container and immediately shoved a cookie into his mouth. 

    Henrik stared in awe of the notes, a small smile tugging across his face. "This… this could actually work! Anti, you’re brilliant."

    Anti swallowed and looked sheepishly at the floor. "It’s not a big deal. Just trying to keep myself from fully corrupting, is all."

    "Not a big deal?" Yan’s eyes lit up. "You’ve managed to find the first step to a corruption cure, that’s incredible!"

    As Henrik continued poring over the notes, his eyebrows furrowed. "As incredible as this is, it’s going to be extremely difficult for me to get these ingredients. The only place I could possibly get most of these things is Derekson's, but I'd have to get Jackie to escort me. Not to mention the Committee would find it suspicious…"

    Anti shrugged, taking a bite out of another cookie. "No problem, I’ll swing by later to grab everything you need to start making this thing."

"Are you sure? It might not be safe for you to be walking out and about."

"It'll be fine, I'll wear a scarf. You worry too much," Anti said, scratching at his neck wound. Henrik sighed and left the room, closing the door to the apartment behind him. "Yandere, you wanna come with?"

"Sure." Yan hesitated. "Where are we going exactly?"

"Derekson's," Anti said. Yan still looked confused, so he continued. "It's an apothecary across town. The guy who runs it is under Committee surveillance, too." He glanced over at the apartment door and lowered his voice. "Apparently, all of his children were born mundane, and he tried to turn them into wizards by himself. Ended up killing all but one. The only reason the Committee hasn't thrown him into a prison cell yet is that he's such a talented potion maker."

"That's horrible," Yan muttered.

"Yeah..." Anti trailed off. "But he’s the only one who has what we need to make our potion. So I hope you don’t have any plans this afternoon, because we’re leaving as soon as I finish these cookies." He turned and walked back down into the basement, taking the whole container with him.

.

.

.

The walk to the apothecary was surprisingly tense -- Anti had insisted they walk there, not wanting to spend even a few minutes on crowded public transport. He spent the whole time looking over his shoulder and tugging on his scarf like it was suffocating him. 

"Are you okay?" Yan asked, sensing how nervous he was. 

"I'm fine." He glanced at them over his sunglasses. "I just don't like walking around during the day. Too many people. I feel like they're all staring at me." Yan opened their mouth to say something comforting, only for Anti to cut them off. "We're here."

Yan looked up at the building they stopped in front of. It was a brownstone, the worn bricks painted green. A few strange-looking flowers and herbs grew in the windowsills. Above the door was a wooden sign that read "Derekson's Apothecary: family-owned and operated since 1812." Yan quickly followed Anti up the steps and into the shop.

The shop was empty when the two walked in. A wooden counter stretched around all sides of the room. Tall shelves filled with glass jars and bottles lined the walls behind the counter, each containing loose ingredients or brightly colored liquids. A rolling ladder was attached to the shelves, and in the center was a door marked "employees only".  It reminded Yan of a candy store, only instead of chocolate and jellybeans, the jars were filled with dried herbs and what looked like eyeballs.

The back door swung open and a man in a patterned shirt walked out, putting on a big smile when he saw the two standing in the shop. He was followed by a teenager with similar features, walking on a pair of crutches. The teen stood in the back, staring at the ground while the older man walked towards the counter.

"Welcome, welcome! What can I do for you today?" said the man, whose nametag identified him as Derek. He gestured to the shelves behind him. "We carry potions for any and all circumstances. One that turns any creature into a harmless goldfish, one that can make your flower garden into your own personal army of floral warriors, one that makes the drinker fall in love with the first person they see for 24 hours. I know that one is popular with you young folks." He winked at Yan, and they only scoffed in response. He hesitated before starting his sales pitch again. "You two don't work for the Committee, right?"

"No?"

"Good! Because here I have a few things that blur the lines between potion and poison-"

"We don't need any of that!" Anti snapped, clearly running out of patience with the overzealous salesman. "We just need these ingredients." He pulled a list from inside his coat and handed it to Derek.

Derek gave a dejected sigh and took the list, turning and climbing the ladder to retrieve what they needed. He quickly maneuvered the shelves, seemingly knowing where everything was despite all the jars being unlabelled. He came back down only a few minutes later holding a few jars, piling them all on the counter. 

"Is that everything?" Anti asked.

"Not quite," Derek said. "Some of the things you're asking for are highly dangerous, so I don't keep them in the front of the shop. Eric." He turned to the young man behind him, who flinched in surprise upon hearing his name. "Can you get the rest of this fine customer's order from the back room?"

"Yes, Dad," Eric muttered.

"I can help you with that," Yan chimed in, hesitating when they saw how stunned Eric looked at the gesture. "If you're alright with that."

"Sure," Derek said, waving his hand. "Just don't touch anything you're not supposed to." Yan moved around the counter over to Eric, smiling and opening the door for him. He gave a reluctant smile and went inside, Yan following shortly after.

The backroom was essentially just a kitchen. A few small cauldrons were simmering on top of an electric stove, empty glass bottles crowding the counter next to it. The linoleum floor was covered in shimmering, multicolored stains. A few barrels were pushed up against the back wall next to a staircase leading up to the second floor of the house. The walls were lined with cabinets, many of which were padlocked.

Eric hobbled over to the cabinets, leaning his crutches up against the counter and leaning against it for balance. He pulled a ring of keys from his pocket, unlocking one of the cabinets. Before he opened it, he turned to Yan. "Oh, right," he mumbled, as if he had forgotten Yan was there. "You can, uh, grab the fireroot for me. It's in the fridge." 

"You got it." They smiled, walking over to the fridge and opening it. It was filled to the brim with potion bottles, as well as a few leftovers in tupperware containers. 

"So, what's all this for, anyway?" Eric asked, before immediately looking away. "Sorry, I didn't mean to pry."

"It's alright." Yan walked over with the bundle of fireroot he asked for. "We're working on, uh… medicine. For someone who's sick. My friend's a doctor and he asked us to pick up some supplies for him."

"That’s weird. I’ve never heard of medicine with these kinds of ingr-" He cut himself off with a strangled cry. His legs suddenly buckled out from underneath him, and he gripped onto the counter for support. He shakily lowered himself to the floor, back against the counter. He scrunched his eyes shut and suppressed a pained whimper, pulling his leg to his chest.

Yan dropped to their knees in an instant. "What's wrong?" they asked quickly. "Do you need me to get your dad?"

"No!" Eric yelped, eyes wide. "It'll only make him upset… I'll be fine. I just need to sit for a minute."

"What's wrong?" Yan repeated, more gently this time. 

Eric bit his lip, looking at the door to the shop and back at Yan. "You know what my dad did, right?" They nodded, remembering the story Anti told them. "The ritual he used to try and make me a wizard, it didn't work, but-" He rolled up one of his pant legs, revealing unnatural scars twisting up his leg. They looked like burns, only iridescent and an unpleasant shade of green. Yan clapped a hand over their mouth. He covered the scars and curled in on himself. "Dad says it's a form of corruption. It flares up every now and then," he continued. He gave a feeble smile. "It's almost funny. I'm not even a wizard and I still managed to screw up and get corrupted."

Yan winced, sensing a wave of sadness and guilt coming from Eric. "Hey, that’s not your fault. None of that is,” they said, trying to console him. They were quiet for a moment, mulling over what they were about to say. They lowered their voice.  "I think I have a way to help you, but you have to promise not to tell anyone, that includes your dad. " 

Eric looked back with confusion before simply nodding.

Yan glanced at the door before speaking,  "A friend of mine is working on a cure for corruption. I know it sounds impossible, but we’re making progress. It will take some time before we have an actual cure, but once we do, we’ll be able to help you. "

 "You- you’d really be willing to help me?" Eric said. He gave them a weak smile.

Yan smiled back, opening their mouth to reassure them before being cut off by yelling from the front of the shop.

"Eric! Hurry up!" Derek yelled. "We have a customer waiting!"

"Oh no..." Eric muttered before yelling back, "I’ll be right out!" He grabbed the edge of the counter, wincing as he scrambled to his feet. He grabbed his crutches, gesturing to Yan to pick up the miscellaneous items on the counter before going through the door. They placed them on the check-out counter before walking back over to Anti, who looked down at them over his sunglasses.

Derek looked over at Eric, drumming his fingers on the counter with impatience.  "What took you so long?" he said, barely containing his frustration. 

"I- uh," Eric stammered, trying to avoid eye contact with his father as he began to pack all the items into a box. "I couldn’t find the time cacti needles they needed, m-must’ve put it in the wrong cabinet when I was organizing."

"Yeah? Well, next time double-check to make sure everything’s in the right place." Derek turned to Anti, his glare turning into a smile as he rattled off the prices for everything, occasionally slipping in a sales pitch for other potions. Anti ignored his rambling, placing a stack of bills on the counter and taking the box of ingredients from Eric. He promptly dropped it into Yan’s arms and quickly made his way out of the shop. Yan gave Eric one last smile before following after.

.

.

.

"God, I hate that Derekson guy. Did you see the way he talked to his own son?" Anti scoffed. The two were walking back to Henrik’s clinic now, Anti a little more relaxed now that the streets weren’t as crowded. "What were you and that Eric kid doing back there, anyways?"

"Just talking," Yan said. They decided it was best if Anti didn’t know they’d told Eric about the corruption cure. 

"Of course you were." Anti smiled. "You have a real knack for befriending everyone you meet, huh?"

"I guess so." They smirked. "I managed to befriend you, didn’t I?" They nudged him with their shoulder. 

Anti chuckled. "Yeah, yeah you did." The two kept walking, keeping up some light conversation to pass the time. Yan was in the middle of recounting the time they and B had gotten lost in a cave somewhere in the geography section at the Library when a man jogging by them accidentally bumped into Anti. "Hey, watch it!" he yelled at the man before turning back to Yan. They were about to continue their story when they felt a sudden surge of mixed emotions from behind them. Disbelief, sadness, joy. 

"Chase?"

Anti froze in place. He chanced a look back, his heart sinking when he locked eyes with the man behind him. He stared at Anti as if he had just seen a ghost, the faintest smile pulling at his lips. His eyes were sunken yet bright, brown hair poked out from under his beanie. He looked like he hadn’t had a good night’s sleep in months. He surged forward, wrapping his arms around Anti and pulling him into a tight hug. "Oh my god, Chase! It’s been so long, I thought I’d never see you again!" He laughed.

Anti finally moved, shoving the man off of him and taking a step back. "I think you’ve mistaken me for someone else."

"Are you kidding? I’d think I’d recognize my best friend."

"I’m sorry, but I have no idea who you are," Anti growled.

"It’s me, Sean! Where have you been? I’ve been looking for you for years." The man, Sean, reached out to Anti. Tears started to fall when he flinched away. "You just disappeared, and I was beginning to think- everyone thinks you’re dead, Chase."

"Anti," Yan said softly, wincing from the waves of intense emotion coming from the two men. "Who is this?"

"Anti? Your name is Chase!" Sean yelled. He grabbed his head, struggling to make sense of what was happening. "You’re my best friend! Fuck, we have matching tattoos!" He quickly rolled up the sleeve of his jacket, revealing a trident-shaped symbol. Yan recognized the symbol; they had seen it tattooed on Anti’s right arm before. Sean kept yelling, tears pouring down his face. "What happened to the friend who promised he’d always be there for me? What happened to the guy who would never abandon his family no matter how hard things got? What happened to you, Chase?"

"I'm not Chase," Anti snapped, low and dangerous. "Now, I need you to leave me alone before I do something I regret." 

Yan looked down to see his hand was glitching with red and green magic. "Anti." they grabbed his arm. "Please, don't."

Anti looked over at them, then back at Sean. "Yan, we're leaving." He turned to go.

"If you’re going to go, you should know Stacy remarried," Sean said. He averted his eyes from Anti, tears still falling down his face. "Nice guy, he’s a tennis instructor or something. The kids are doing well in school; Emma's been filling out college applications. They still ask about you sometimes. They do miss you, you know. Stacy too."

Anti stood for a moment. "Come on, Yan, let’s go home," he said, lifting an arm to wipe at his eyes with his sleeve. He walked away from Sean, not bothering to look back.

.

.

.

The walk back to Henrik's was tense. Neither said a word until they got back. Anti opened the door to the clinic, immediately locking eyes with Henrik, who was sitting at his desk going over the notes again. "How'd it go?" he asked, standing up. Anti stayed quiet, storming past him and wrenching open the trapdoor. He slammed it behind him, and moments later the two upstairs heard him start yelling. It was a heartbreaking sound, laced with anger and sorrow. The sound of anything he could get his hands on colliding with the floor soon followed.

"What happened to you out there?" Henrik said, wincing at the sound of something glass shattering below. 

Yan placed the box of ingredients on the desk, gently wiping fresh tears from their face. The emotion coming from Anti and Sean had been too much for their ever faltering emotion magic, and they had started crying from the sheer amount of sorrow coming from the two. "Everything at the store went fine. But on the walk back, we ran into a man named Sean," they spoke softly. They looked up at Henrik, seeing a flash of recognition on his face. "Henrik, who's Chase?"

Henrik sighed, gently removing his glasses and rubbing his face. "Chase is someone who Anti was a long, long time ago," he hesitated, looking down at Yan with regret. "It's not my place to tell you about his past. I'm sorry. You really deserve to know more, but-"

Yan held up their hand. "I understand." They pulled him into a hug.

Henrik froze at the sudden contact, then gently placed his arms around them. "It would probably be best if you went home. You don't want to see him like this."

Yan pulled back, giving a weak smile. "I'll see you next week. Call me when he's feeling better."

"Of course," Henrik said, watching as Yan walked out the door. As soon as they were gone, he sighed, leaning against his desk. He wanted nothing more than to get a drink, wait it out until Anti's rage faded, but he knew that wouldn't be good for either of them. He walked over to the center of the room, gently opening the trapdoor before heading down the stairs, bracing himself as the noises got louder. He gasped when he reached the bottom of the stairs.

The room was in complete disarray. All the books that had been precariously balanced on Anti’s desk were thrown to the ground, papers strewn everywhere. The desk chair was knocked over; all the dirty plates and glasses that he had hoarded in his room were in pieces on the floor. His knife was buried in its usual place in the wall next to the doorway. The only thing left untouched was the murky green jar on the desk, where Sam was repeatedly bumping his eye against the glass in an attempt to get Anti's attention.

Anti himself was hunched in the center of it all. His jacket and scarf were discarded on the floor. His sunglasses lay against the wall across the room, one of the lenses missing and the other shattered. His entire body was glitching. He was scratching at the wound on his neck. 

Henrik quickly moved next to Anti, careful not to kneel on any broken glass. "Are you alright?" He spoke softly. Anti breathed heavily, barely acknowledging the man beside him. Henrik reached out, gently placing a hand on his back and rubbing circles. Even through his gloves, it felt like touching a broken tv screen. Slowly, Anti's breathing evened out and he removed his hands from his neck.

It felt like an eternity before Anti spoke. "I miss them so much." 

"I know," Henrik said, barely above a whisper. 

Anti looked back at him, his mind racing with a million things to say. He decided to stay quiet, just this once. He leaned against Henrik, letting the silent sorrow wash over him.

[austrianmusiclover13]

And finally from the @wwoww-au is the glitchy boy Anti! I didnt have a black peacoat so i had to make do sorry! Sometimes it just be like that. Anyways, this was hella fun to do and im happy with each one!

[wwoww-au]

Lonely Heart

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Yan knocked a few times before slowly cracking open the door to Henrik’s office. They peered inside to make sure the coast was clear before opening the door the rest of the way and stepping inside. Henrik was nowhere to be seen, which was fine. Yan wasn’t supposed to arrive for their appointment for another half an hour or so. Their mentor had let them go early so they could make it on time. They had a good reason for telling their mentor their checkup was sooner than it really was though. They wanted to see if they could help Anti with research today.

“Anti?” Yan called, kneeling down by the trapdoor. “It’s Yan. Can I come down?”

“Yandere? Yeah, come on down, kid,” came the slightly muted reply.

Yan frowned at the nickname. No matter how many times they asked Anti to drop it, he didn’t seem to listen. They opened the trapdoor just in time to see the light in the basement turn on, lighting the stairs down. They stepped carefully over the papers spread out over the steps, holding tight onto the handrail so they didn’t slip.

“You’ve been busy,” Yan said, finding a spot of ground to stand on that wasn’t covered in paper.

Anti stuck his knife in a piece of paper, holding it to the wall, before turning to Yan. “Yeah,” he huffed, tapping a piece of paper with his foot. “I think I’m getting close to something. Not sure what yet, but, uh... You’re here for your appointment with Henrik, right?”

Yan nodded, slightly distracted by the absurd amount of papers surrounding them. “Where is he?” they asked, hopping to another bare patch closer to Anti.

“Mr. Sleep-lestein is taking a nap,” Anti chuckled. “He’ll be up in a few minutes, don’t worry.”

“Is he…?” Yan trailed off, giving Anti a worried look.

Anti waved them off. “He’s alright,” he answered. “Just had a long night. Don’t worry about him, though. He gets enough worrying from Jackie.” He shook his head and scratched at his neck, and for a small moment Yan could sense worry from him before it was gone. “But, uh, enough about that,” Anti coughed. “You want to help me with something?”

Yan nodded and stepped to another spot towards Anti.

“Take this,” Anti said, tearing the piece of paper off the wall where he’d stabbed it earlier. “There should be a page almost just like it, but, uh, without the tear. And a diagram. I set it down somewhere earlier and now I can’t find it.”

“That’s it?” Yan questioned with a frown. They took the paper from Anti’s hand and began to look it over.

Anti shrugged. “You’ve got an appointment soon, kid,” he said. “I don’t want you getting too invested in something and missing it. If Henrik isn’t up by the time you find it, I’ll have something else for you to do, okay?”

“Fine,” Yan huffed. They knelt down and began to pick up papers, comparing them to the paper in their hand. They tried to work quickly; they had a lot to go through.

It didn’t take long for Yan to find the paper. It had been tucked under Sam’s jar, likely so Anti wouldn’t forget where it was, and yet it had been forgotten anyway. Yan gave Sam a wave before bringing the paper back to Anti, who set down his notebook to take the page from them.

“Perfect!” Anti exclaimed, comparing the two nearly identical papers in his hands now. “Thank you, Yan. Where was it?”

“Under Sam,” Yan answered with a chuckle. Anti huffed. “What did you need it for? Why do you have two papers that are almost exactly the same?”

Anti took a moment to respond, scratching at his neck as he squinted at the pages. “Different editions,” he muttered distractedly. “This one-” He waved the one Yan had found. “This one has a few very interesting lines that were taken out of the later edition. Don’t know why, other than whoever was printing or editing wanted the information kept from the public.”

Yan sat down on the floor next to Anti, looking at the paper in his hands. “Why would they want that hidden?” they asked, tucking their knees up to their chest. “If it could help find a cure for something like corruption, why would they get rid of that?”

“Who knows,” Anti huffed. “Some wizard bullshit. Henrik could probably answer better than I could. Maybe they thought people would use the information for… less helpful stuff. Lots of things that can be used for good can be used for evil too, kid. If it was taken out, it was probably for a good reason.”

“And if it wasn’t?” Yan pressed, glancing up at Anti.

“Well then it doesn’t really matter now,” Anti said with a shrug. “What matters is that we’ve got it now.” He elbowed Yan, causing them to yelp and almost fall backwards before catching themself. “And if we’ve got it, we can use it, right?”

Yan nodded. They opened their mouth to speak, but stopped when they noticed Henrik standing at the bottom of the stairs. Yan had to resist flinching against the wave of tiredness and anxiety coming from the doctor. Henrik didn’t bother stepping in clear spots, walking right over the papers to Yan.

“Are you ready for your checkup?” Henrik asked, resting his hand on Yan’s shoulder. He looked tired, like he’d just woken up and immediately come downstairs.

Yan nodded and placed their hand on Anti’s shoulder, bracing off of him to push themself up. “Can I come back later?” they asked, looking between Henrik and Anti.

“You can come back any time, Yandere,” Anti said, smiling up at them. 

Yan beamed, barely noticing the tinge of worry from Henrik as they followed him up to the office.

.

Yan took a seat on the examination bench while Henrik grabbed a clipboard off his desk. Even after only a couple of appointments, it already felt like routine to Yan. As Henrik approached the bench, he gave them a clearly forced smile. At least he was trying for them, Yan noted, returning the smile.

“How have you been feeling?” Henrik asked, stifling a yawn. “Any more trouble with your magic?”

Yan shrugged and shook their head. “It still gives me some trouble sometimes, but doing magic hasn’t really been that bad.” They tugged at the locket around their neck. “I’ve been extra sensitive to emotions recently though,” they added. “Like, it feels like someone dialed up my sensitivity to an eleven.”

Henrik nodded and finished a note on his clipboard. “You’ve been careful with your magic, yes?”

“Yeah, as much as I can,” Yan answered. “The headaches aren’t too bad after a while.”

“Still feeling tired and stressed?”

Yan hesitated before nodding. “I- I’m trying not to let it get to me, but it’s really hard. It’s all just-” They tightened the grip on their locket. “It’s all really exhausting.”

 “Have you tried talking to Jackie?” Henrik asked, tapping his pen. “You don’t have to tell him about your corruption, but he would be more than happy to listen if you just need to talk. I can give you a note to go see him if you’d like. That should get you out of any obligations, yes?”

“But what about you and Anti?” Yan asked, worry digging in their chest. “I still want to help you guys.”

“And you can,” Henrik said calmly. “You don’t have to visit Jackie every day. Just whenever you need to, set up an appointment and he can work you into his schedule.” The doctor tore a piece of paper from his clipboard and handed it to Yan. After a moment of squinting, they could deduce it was a referral note to see Jackie. That or a drawing of a lion. Probably the former.

All of a sudden, there was a knock at the door. Henrik nearly flinched out of his skin before going to answer the door, tapping the trapdoor with his foot as he went. He opened the door slightly at first, and then, after a short exchange, all the way, letting B into the office.

Yan froze. They briefly considered diving behind the bench so B wouldn’t see them, but it was already too late. B bounced over to his friend, not hesitating to pull them off the bench in a hug. Yan wanted to disappear. Why did B have to be here? It wasn’t that they didn’t enjoy seeing B, but they didn’t want him accidentally finding out they were corrupting. Yan already felt guilty enough knowing B still didn’t know they’d stolen the scissors. Keeping secrets from their best friend tore Yan up inside.

“What are you doing here, Yan?” B asked, seemingly oblivious to Yan’s slight discomfort. He backed away from the hug and gave them a lopsided grin. He kept his hands on their upper arms.

“Checkup,” Yan answered vaguely, hoping that would be a satisfactory answer. “What are you doing down here?” They wriggled out of B’s grip, playfully batting his arms away.

“Oh!” B exclaimed, suddenly remembering he’d come to Henrik’s office for something other than Yan. He spun around to face Henrik. “We’re out of bandages in the Library,” he explained, “and the Library’s been really feisty this week, so G wanted to stock up just in case one of us gets hurt. I already almost got hit by stray books, like, seven times today. And then G was- Oh!”

Henrik cut B off by shoving a large box of bandages into his arms. “Tell G I’ll need the next volume of Kingsman’s series soon. He’ll know which one.” Forcefully, Henrik spun B around to face the door and began to push him out of the office.

“Wait, Yan!” B cried out, pushing back against Henrik. “You want to come with? I’m almost done with work today!”

Yan hesitated for a moment, but a quick glance at Henrik’s face told them he wanted B out of his office as soon as possible. “Sure!” Yan said, putting on a grin as they joined their friend at the door. “Thanks for the checkup, Henrik!”

Henrik sighed gratefully and gave Yan a slight smile before closing the door behind them and B.

“You coming?”

Yan nodded quickly, realizing they’d been staring at the closed door for a moment too long. They turned to face B with a smile, taking his free hand as he shifted the box of bandages under his other arm. The sun was beginning to set, giving the Crime Department hall a warm golden glow. A few of its employees passed B and Yan as they walked, but barely acknowledged them past a polite nod. The pair walked in silence until they reached the end of the hallway.

“So,” B began, breaking the stillness that had settled between them, “what was your checkup for?”

Yan hesitated, brain quickly scrambling for an excuse. “Just- I’ve been, um, stressed lately,” they said, relaxing slightly as B nodded. “I just wanted to make sure it wouldn’t, uh, have any effect on my magic, y’know?”

“And?”

“I should be fine,” Yan continued. “Dr Schneeplestein gave me a note to see Jackie, though.” They pulled the piece of paper from their skirt pocket and waved it before putting it back.

“That’s good,” B said, giving Yan’s hand a squeeze. “I went to see Jackie a few times when I first started at the Library, and he really helped. You would not believe how stressful that job is when you have no clue what you’re doing. Plus, it took super long for G to start warming up to me, so I couldn’t really, like, lean on him much in the beginning. He’s gotten better now though. I think he just wasn’t used to having an apprentice. I don’t know how he was getting by before me, honestly.”

Yan let B ramble on as they continued their walk. Listening to him talk, it was easy to forget their own troubles. They could do that with B. Just… lose themself and live in the moment. Hearing all his stories from the Library, they could almost pretend they weren’t corrupting, that they weren’t helping a dead man and a doctor make a potentially impossible cure, that they weren’t constantly racked with guilt from cutting Senpai’s string to Osana.

“Yan? Earth to Yan?” B waved their clasped hands in front of Yan’s face. “Dude, you good?”

“Huh?” Yan blinked. “Oh, yeah, sorry. I must have zoned out.”

B frowned. “Are you sure, Yan?” he asked, giving them a concerned look over the rim of his glasses. “You’ve been ‘zoning out’ a lot lately.” He stopped walking, forcing them to stop too. “I know you said you’ve been stressed recently, and I get that, but I feel like there’s something you’re not telling me.”

Yan could feel the blood drain from their face.

“You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to,” B continued, seemingly oblivious to the panic Yan was feeling. “Just- I don’t want you to feel like you have to keep secrets from me, Yan. You’re my best friend, dude. If there’s anything I can do to help you, I want to be able to do it.”

Yan didn’t know what to say. The kind, understanding smile on B’s face made them want to crawl into Henrik’s basement and live there with Anti forever. “I’m- I’m sorry, B,” they finally stammered out, chest tightening as they held back tears. “It’s just- It’s not just my apprenticeship I’m stressed about.”

B looked at them with obvious interest.

“It’s Senpai too,” Yan admitted, staring down at the floor.

“But I thought-”

“I know, and you’re still right,” Yan interrupted. “Everything is going great with him. We’ve been hanging out a lot, and we’ve even got a real date next Saturday.” They reached up with their free hand to hold onto their locket. “I’m just so afraid. I love him so much, but I’m so worried that I’m not the right person for him. I’m not afraid he’ll find someone else and leave me, but that I’ll see he’s got a string to someone else, and I won’t be able to let him go.”

This was stupid, Yan scolded themself. They were just telling B old troubles. They already knew that they couldn’t let Senpai go. That they’d seen his string to Osana and acted irrationally. They’d been selfish. They still were selfish. They were just airing old grievances, pretending they still mattered.

“Oh, Yan,” B said gently, “you don’t have to worry about that. You’re such a good person, I know you’ll make the right choice, no matter what.”

But they hadn’t.

They’d stolen and lied, and now they were paying the price.

“But what if I can’t?” Yan fretted. “What if I make a mistake, and someone gets hurt?!”

B backed up a step, eyes wide. “Yan, calm down,” he said. They could feel his own worry and stress building. “No one’s going to get hurt. You’re getting worked up over something that might never happen.”

Yan’s head pounded as tension rose. “You don’t get it!” they cried, tears finally beginning to run down their face. “I’m supposed to be good at this! I’m supposed to be able to tell who’s right for who, but I can’t! I don’t know what I’m doing anymore!”

“Yan, I-”

“Just leave me alone!” Yan shouted. They tore their hand away from B’s, letting out a bolt of red magic that went wild, barely missing B. There was a cracking noise as it hit some distant wall.

B’s eyes had followed the bolt, but they now looked at Yan with fear. “Y-Yan, what was that?”

Yan’s hands covered their agape mouth. Their heart was pounding harder than their head, and they felt like they’d just stuck their hand in an electric socket. “I-I- I’m-” they stuttered. “I’m sorry, B.” Before their friend could respond, Yan turned and ran back the way they came. They didn’t look behind them to see if B was following. It didn’t matter. They ran blindly, pushing past a pair of startled Department employees, down a darkening hallway until they reached Henrik’s office. They slammed the door open, charging right into a startled Henrik and wrapping him in a hug.

“Yan, what happened?” Henrik asked, hesitantly placing his arms around them as they sobbed into his shirt.

They only gripped his shirt tighter, barely noticing as Henrik shuffled them closer to the door so he could close it before moving them closer to one of the examination benches. He let them cry on his shoulder for what felt like ages. Yan didn’t want to let go. They wanted their head to stop hurting and their hands to stop burning. Eventually, though, their tears ran dry, and they were just standing there, stubbornly refusing to let go.

“Are you ready to tell me what happened?” Henrik asked quietly, removing his arms from around Yan.

 Yan backed up, hopping onto the bench behind them and rubbing their puffy eyes. Their throat felt tight, but they nodded still. “I- I don’t know what came over me,” they stammered, their voice catching. “I just- I got really freaked out when B asked me what was going on. I panicked and yelled at him, and- and then I-” Yan felt the tears begin to run down their face again. “-I almost hit him with c-corrupted magic.”

Henrik’s eyes went wide for a second, and Yan flinched. He was going to be mad at them. He was going to kick them out of his office. He was going to tell them they couldn’t help Anti anymore. They were going to lose everything. They were going to lose B, and now they were going to lose Henrik and Anti too. They-

“Yan, it’s okay.”

Yan’s panicked breathing caught as they felt Henrik’s hand on their shoulder. They sat stunned as he moved to their left and, with a grunt, hoisted himself onto the bench. Gently, he wrapped his arm around their shoulders and pulled them close, so they were leaning against him.

“You know,” Henrik began softly, staring at the distant wall, “I used to have a very good friend. We were as close as you and B are. We were like brothers. He- he helped teach me English when we were very young. We did everything together. But I made a terrible mistake, and betrayed his trust. I was careless, and ruined our friendship. He has hardly looked at me, much less talked to me, since then.”

It was Yan’s turn to look wide-eyed at Henrik. The misery coming from him was so potent, they felt like they could reach out and grab it. “Do you think I’ve ruined my friendship with B?” they asked fearfully.

Henrik shook his head, and Yan noticed the tears in his eyes. “No, I don’t think so,” Henrik said, mustering a smile. “B… B is much more forgiving than my friend was. For you, it is not too late to fix things. I know it feels like you have created an unbridgeable gap between you and him, but you are a very smart and loving person, Yan. If anyone can cross that gap, it is you and B. He is just as hurt and scared as you are right now, but he does not hate you.”

Yan nodded slowly, tugging at their locket. “What do I do?” they asked.

“Talk to him,” Henrik answered. “When you’re ready. And be honest with him. B… B will be more understanding th- that way.”

Henrik had interrupted himself, Yan noted. What was he going to say before he changed his mind and said ‘that way’ instead? It… It probably wasn’t important. Maybe they’d just imagined it. Still…

“Can I stay here for a little bit?” Yan implored. “I think helping Anti will help me think things through before I talk to B.”

Henrik nodded. “If you think that’s best,” he said, still staring off into the distance. “You can go down whenever. I- I’m going to work up here tonight.” Carefully, the doctor slid off the bench. He turned and gave Yan a reassuring smile before retreating to his apartment. 

The moment the door closed behind him, Yan walked across the floor and crouched to reach the trapdoor. "Anti?" they asked after knocking a few times. "Can I come down?"

"Yan?" his muffled voice called back, his confusion was obvious. "Uh… yeah, sure."

Yan opened the trapdoor, carefully treading down the steps to the basement. Their movements were apprehensive, all their senses still on edge from their outburst. Once at the bottom of the stairs, they noticed that Anti had since moved from the floor to his desk, although his mess of notes still remained scattered across the floor.

Anti looked over at them, idly swaying side to side in his old leather desk chair. "You're back early," he said. "Unless you're not, and I just fell asleep working and didn't notice, again." He shrugged.

Yan chuckled half-heartedly, not moving from their spot in the doorway. "No, I did come back early, I just-" they hesitated. Knowing Anti, he would probably just laugh at their outburst at B, just like he did when they revealed their corruption. That was the last thing they needed right now. "I just need to take my mind off things for a while. Anything I can help with?"

"Not really," he said shortly, turning back to his own work. He paused, realizing how rude he sounded. He cleared his throat. "I guess you can organize my notes. Just pick up everything on the floor and sort them by subject."

They huffed, looking down at the basement floor, cluttered with so many strewn papers and books you could hardly see the hardwood. It would take them a while to clean it all, but they were grateful to have a distraction.

.

.

.

Yan looked down proudly at their work. Every scrap of paper was now organized into neat piles. With their distraction gone, their fears and doubts began to creep back into their mind. They turned their gaze up to Anti, who was caught up in his own work at his desk. They locked eyes (or, well, eye) with Sam, who then proceeded to nudge himself against the glass of his jar to get Anti's attention. He looked up from his work, mumbling "What?" as the eye pointed at Yan with its tail. He turned in his chair, "What's up?"

"I just wanted to ask you something," they said, looking at the floor. "How… how do you deal with being corrupted?"

Anti let out a short chuckle. "I'm not exactly dealing with it, kid." He leaned back in his chair, looking around at the basement. "I don't have an answer for you, really."

"Oh…"

"All I can say is, being corrupted is hard, but it's harder when you're alone. When I became corrupted, I had no one. I was in a bad place, and if I didn't have Henrik I would've never made it through it. But you've got so many people who care about you, Yan. And they're gonna support you no matter what happens. You've got your whole life ahead of you, and that's a wonderful thing," he paused, scratching at his wounded neck.  "I should know, I already lived mine."

Yan nodded, tugging gently at their locket. They wanted to say Anti's words of encouragement made them feel better, but they honestly didn't know what to feel anymore with their faulty powers picking up every strong emotional impulse in the room. They just knew they still felt bad. 

They shuffled on their seat on the floor, before reaching for their phone. They hadn't touched it since they started cleaning the room, so they hadn't noticed the eight new notifications: two missed phone calls and six unread texts from B.

Are you alright?

What happened back there?

You can tell me if somethings wrong. I'm here for you.

Yan, are you okay?

Did I do something wrong?

I'm sorry if I did something, I just want to know that you're ok

Yan stared down at the messages with bleary eyes. "I think I know what I need to do. Thanks for the talk, Anti," they wiped their eyes, standing up from the floor. 

"No problem,"

Yan nodded, crossing the room to the stairs. As they ascended the steps, they quickly tapped out a response to B.

I'm okay now. Can we meet up tomorrow?

.

.

.

Yan was waiting on the front steps of the Library before it opened to the public. They tapped their foot against the marble steps; part to calm their nerves, partly to cut the eerie early-morning silence. It wasn't long before they spotted a streak of orange racing across the courtyard. 

B was up the steps in moments, nearly collapsing as he reached the top. "You're here early," he said between pants. 

Yan opened their mouth to reply, but they were cut off by the sound of the heavy, wooden doors of the Library opening behind them. G stepped through the doors, hands clasped behind his back. "And you're late," he peered over his glasses at B. "I've told you countless times, you're supposed to arrive before the Library opens."

His apprentice stood up straight, smoothing out the wrinkles of his shirt as he faced G. "I'm sorry. I didn't sleep well last night. I slept through my alarm." 

Yan felt a pang in their chest. They sensed the guilt coming off of B when he talked to G. They couldn’t help but think they were the reason B overslept, he must have stayed up worrying about them.

"Come along, B. There's work to be done." G gestured towards the inside of the Library. When B walked inside, G looked over to Yan. "Good morning, Yan. I take it you and B have something to discuss?" 

They nodded.

"Alright. But don't be too long." He turned on his heel and entered the Library, Yan following soon after. The heavy, wooden doors closed behind them.

B was waiting off to the side as they entered, tugging at the end of his scarf as he watched them walk over. Yan walked up to him, a weak smile on their face. "Hey," they said with uncertainty. "Um, can we talk someplace a little more private?"

"Of course. This way," B nodded down a row of bookshelves. Yan followed as he led them down the row. A couple of twists and turns later and the two found themselves in a small but cozy room. There were two large armchairs in the center, separate by a coffee table with two steaming mugs sitting atop it. Yan glanced at one of the bookshelves around the room, and found it lined with books boasting titles like The Guide to Good Mental Health and Self Help Tips. It was as if the Library itself was trying to help.

B apprehensively sat in one of the armchairs, and Yan followed suit. They were the first to break the silence. "I've come to apologize. I'm sorry for snapping at you yesterday."

"It's okay, you've been stressed."

"No, it's not okay!" they raised their voice, before settling back down and taking a deep breath. "I have been stressed lately, but I shouldn't take it out on you. You were only trying to help and I nearly hurt you. It's not fair to you." They took a deep breath to keep their composure. "I've just been going through something lately and it's make me so upset all the time."

"Whatever it is, I'm here for you," B jumped up in his chair. "Just tell me what's happening, I can help!"

"I can't tell you. I want to tell you, so, so bad, but I can't risk it. I trust you more than anyone in this world, B, so please just trust me."

"I… I do trust you. You're my best friend, dude." He stood up from his chair. "You don't have to tell me anything. No matter what happens, I'm here for you."

Yan practically jumped out of their chair, wrapping their arms around his shoulder in a tight embrace. He instantly hugged them back. "Thank you," they whispered into his shoulder.

.

.

The two friends emerged in the central hall of the Library. G was at his usual place behind his desk, and a few early-morning patrons sat at the tables around the room. 

B turned to Yan. "I have to start my work for the day," he said, patting them on the shoulder. "If you need anything, let me know."

"Of course, I'll see you around." They gave him a smile. He smiled back, before disappearing into a row of bookshelves. Yan began walking in the opposite direction, to the Library doors. Right as they reached the threshold, they felt a hand on their shoulder. They turned to see who it belonged to. "G? What is it?"

The Librarian stood behind them. "Before you go, I want you to take this," he handed them a book. The dust clinging to its green cover made it apparent no one had read it in years. "It's a collection of ancient Life Magic remedies. I think you might find it useful." He peered over his glasses with a knowing look in his eyes.

Yan felt as though their heart stopped. "I- I don't-" they stammered. They dared to sense his feelings, to look for answers using magic despite their corruption fighting them. However, G didn't feel angry, or fearful. Instead they sensed a great swell of warmth, a comforting sensation that put them immediately at ease. He was trying to help. "Thank you, G," they said. 

He nodded in response, with the faintest of smiles on his face, before returning to his work.

Yan stepped out onto the steps of the Library. With the book clutched close to their chest, they breathed out a sigh of relief. Although their corruption was still hidden from B, it was as if the weight of the hefty secret was lifted from their shoulders. Now all that was left was to deliver this book to Anti, and to find the cure that would free them both from the burden of corruption.

[wwoww-au]

Do you have any more secret memes you can share with us

Here’s one I dug up from the public discord server (which anyone can join btw just ask for an invite)

-mod static

[wwoww-au]

Wow, Wiggles, you know anything about that Anti fella?

"Anti's one of my regulars. At least, I'm pretty sure that's what his name is. He got sick of me calling him 'fella' one night and told me to call him Anti, so...

I honestly don't know much about him. He always comes in late at night when the bar is empty and orders a whiskey. He doesn't talk much after that, but he's a good listener. He lets me vent about some of the mooks who come into the bar. He always wears sunglasses and a scarf, even at 2am in the summer. Eh, who am I to judge? I still wear this stupid clown makeup even though I'm retired."

- Wiggles

[wwoww-au]

Lovesick

I’ve always been afraid of being alone. For as long as I could remember I was terrified that my world would always be cold, empty, incomplete. I could only hope that I would find someone special… and one day I found him. My Senpai. From the moment I met him, I knew he was the one. I felt complete. But he was destined to be with someone else.

She likes him, but not in the way I like him. She could never appreciate him the way I do. She is a selfish, shallow human being. She doesn’t deserve someone as good as him. But I found something to stop her. Something to cut their ties -- their heartstrings -- before she could take him away from me. I thought I was doing the right thing, protecting Senpai from ending up with the wrong person.

I knew it the moment I cut the string. The searing pain in my hand where I had held the scissors, the jagged red scar etched beneath my ring finger. This was a mistake. I shouldn’t have done this. It wasn’t my choice to make. I-

“Yan?” Senpai waved a hand in front of their face.

“Huh?” Yan looked up at him. The two were sitting across from each other at a small table in a cafe. They had been meeting like this a lot in the last few weeks; getting lunch or walking through the park and simply getting to know each other.  Yan cherished these moments more than anything in the world.  “Sorry, lost in thought.”

“Are you sure you’re alright?” Senpai leaned forward, a look of concern on his face. “You haven’t been acting like your normal, obsessively cheery self lately. And you look awfully pale.”

“I’m fine, I promise,” they reassured him, placing a gloved hand over his. “I’ve been tired, that’s all.”

“Are you sure it’s just that? You could be coming down with something. Maybe you should see a doctor.”

“Oh, alright. If you say so.” Yan gave a half-hearted smile. “I’ll get a checkup tomorrow.”

“Thank you.” Senpai sat back in his chair. “I care about you, you know. I don’t want you to get sick.”

"You're just the sweetest, do you know that?" Yan said. The pair smiled at each other. "So, what were we talking about, before all this?"

"Your trip to the library?"

"Oh, right! So yeah B and I get to the Gardening Section, and then this giant vine shoots out of nowhere and-"

.

.

.

Henrik rarely got appointments these days. His patients mainly consisted of officers from the nearby Crime Department or special cases assigned by the Committee themselves. Sitting at his desk, he checked his schedule for the day. It was completely empty, except for one person who had scheduled a checkup for later that afternoon. He was a little surprised, but he was grateful to have something to do that day. 

They arrived five minutes early to the appointment, greeting him at the door with a smile. "Good morning, Doctor."

"You can just call me Henrik," he said, politely shaking their hand. Their greeting reminded him of Jackie, another positive force trying and failing to brighten his ever sour mood. "Yan, was it?"

"That's me," they answered cheerfully as they followed him back into the office. They perched up on the edge of one of the beds. Henrik pulled a clipboard off of his desk and read what was written there.

"So, it says here you've been feeling sick? Can you describe your symptoms?"

Yan looked down at their hands, folded in their lap. "I've been really tired lately. I guess I've been a little more irritable."

"Anything else?" Henrik barely looked up from his clipboard.

"Well, I-" They hesitated. "Uh, I've been struggling with my magic a bit."

Henrik's eyes went wide upon hearing this, and his head snapped up to look at them. His grip tightened on the clipboard. He spoke slowly, but with urgency. "What did you say?"

"I've been struggling with my magic a bit? Nothing too serious, I've just been getting headaches when I try to sense emotions or look at strings…" They trailed off when they saw the look Henrik was giving them. It was a look of fear, and of sadness.

"Did you use any core magic, other than your own?"

"W-what?"

"Did you use any core magic other than your own?" he repeated, his tone urgent and serious.

"I…" they trailed off and slumped their shoulders. They pulled off one of their gloves, holding up their left hand to reveal a small red iridescent scar on the knuckle beneath their ring finger. "Yes."

Henrik's heart broke for the person in front of him. Someone so young, having to endure the consequences of such a horrible decision. He so badly wanted to tell them everything was alright, but they needed to hear the truth. "You're corrupting."

 "I thought because I used an item, nothing bad would happen. But I guess not," Yan continued, their breathing picking up as they spoke. "It was such a dumb mistake, and now my life is over! I'll lose my apprenticeship, they'll break my locket, they'll throw me in jail and- oh wizard god, what will my mom think?!" They broke into a sob, covering their face with their hands.

Henrik froze. He didn't know what to do; it had been too long since he had comforted someone. He moved forward and put a hand on their shoulder, a gesture Jackie had used to comfort him countless times. "Hey, it's alright. You're going to be alright."

"How?" Yan choked out between sobs, tear-filled eyes begging for some sort of answer.

"I-" He paused to consider what he could say, if he could trust the stranger in front of him. Something about them told him he could. "I'm working on a cure. Something that can stop corruption before it can destroy the wizard. It's slow work, but I have help." He decided not to go into detail about Anti. The poor kid was already so afraid, it would be best not to mention the walking corpse in the basement. 

"You- you are?" They sniffed, a small smile tugging at the corners of their mouth. "And you'd be willing to help me?"

"Of course," he said softly, managing to return the slight smile. 

"Then I want to help you, too." They wiped a few stray tears from their eyes. "Where do we start?"

Henrik stepped back. He was hesitant to bring someone else into this, but the need for more help outweighed the worry. "First you have to promise not to tell anyone about any of this. The Committee already has me under watch, and if they find out I'm messing with corruption they'll break my item even more. You'll be fine; you're in a very early stage of corruption. It's barely noticeable. Keep that scar covered, and don't tax yourself too much when using magic."

They slipped their glove back on and nodded. They had a new look of determination on their tear-soaked face. Henrik bent over and shifted the carpet to the side, revealing the basement door.

"I keep my research down here," he said, lifting the hatch to the stairs. "I'll go grab some of it for you to look over, see what you can do to help, though admittedly, there's not much. Wait up here." He disappeared down the dark steps.

Yan stood up from the bed and began pacing around. They absentmindedly fiddled with their locket as they began to process their feelings. On one hand, their selfish decision led to their own corruption; on the other, sheer luck brought them to someone working on a cure. Yan halted their pacing in front of the trap door. The sound of Henrik's voice, along with a second, harsher voice, drifted from below. Using the smallest bit of Heart magic, they could sense strong emotion from below. Concern, fear, anger. It put them on edge. 

They moved towards open door, gently padding down the steps. They spotted Henrik arguing in a hushed tone with another man, whose back was turned to them. "Henrik, are you alright?" they said quietly.

"Yan," Henrik said quickly, eyes wide with panic. "I told you to wait upstairs."

"I heard you talking and I wanted to check-" They were quickly cut off when the other man turned around, revealing his haunting features. Blood oozed from a cut on his neck, and his skin clung to his bones, as if he hadn’t eaten in years. Jet black eyes glared at them, green and blue irises seemingly glowing with fury. Yan clapped a hand over their mouth. "Oh m-my wizard god… your neck-"

"I told you this was a bad idea!" the man yelled back at Henrik. He stalked towards Yan, a hideous sneer on his face. His hands flickered with glitchy, crimson and dark green magic. 

"Anti, calm down," Henrik begged, placing a hand on his shoulder. 

"No! Listen to me!" Anti whipped around, throwing Henrik’s hand off, and pointed an accusing finger at the doctor, who shrunk visibly. "You're way too trusting! That's what got you into this mess in the first place!" He turned back to Yan. "You! Get out!"

"I'm- I'm sorry! I shouldn't have-" Yan stuttered out the best they could. They backed away slowly, heart practically beating out of their chest. 

"GET OUT!" Anti screamed. The magic gathering at his hands burst out, knocking back everything around him. Yan flew back into the stairs with a strangled cry. The room settled, unbearably quiet after the blast. Yan stood on shaky feet before scrambling up the stairs, a few fresh tears streaking their face.

"What did you do?" Henrik broke the silence, pushing past Anti to get to the stairs.

"I didn't know I could do that." Anti flexed his hand, staring at it with curiosity. "Honestly. You know I can't control my magic."

Henrik was already midway up the stairs. "I don't care about your magic,” the doctor snapped, “what you need to be controlling is your temper. We'll talk about this later." He disappeared up the stairs, calling after Yan.

Anti huffed, and slumped over into the worn desk chair. He glanced over at the jar on the desk, where Sam was silently bobbing in the green potion. "Don't look at me like that," he grumbled. "Okay.. maybe I overreacted, but I have every right to be on edge."

 Sam bumped up against the glass. 

"It would be nice to have a little more help... But how do I know we can trust them?"

Sam bumped the glass again, making a few bubbles float to the surface.

 "You're right. You're always right. I'll go apologize."

He stood up, grabbing the tattered notebook and numerous loose scraps of paper that made up his corruption research, as well as Sam's jar. With one last look at Sam for reassurance, he made his way upstairs, carefully lifting the trap door with his free hand when he reached the top. 

He peaked out, glancing around the room with wild eyes. His gaze landed on Henrik, hands resting on a shaking Yan's shoulders. Tears ran down their face, and the doctor was muttering something in hopes of calming them down. Anti cleared his throat.

Henrik turned around, immediately moving in front of Yan. "That was fast. Already coming to apologize?"

Anti shrugged before climbing up the last of the stairs. "Sam convinced me that we could use more help, okay? They can stay."

"Sam?" Yan whispered to the doctor, peering around his side. "Is he talking about that thing in the jar?"

"Unfortunately, yes," Henrik sighed. "All that time sitting alone in the basement is making him lose his grip on reality."

"Are you two going to stand around insulting me all day, or are we going to get some work done?" Anti cut in, tapping his foot impatiently.

"I have some books on old life magic in my room, I'll go get those while you two start going over notes," Henrik said, walking over to the door that lead to his apartment. "Anti, if you try anything, I'll make sure you stay dead this time."

"Yikes, low blow," Anti gasped, and held a hand to his heart to feign hurt. "But your point stands."

"I mean it. Play nice." Henrik stepped into his apartment and shut the door, leaving the two alone.

Anti kneeled down on the floor, laying out all of his work and Sam's jar in front of him. He glanced up at Yan, who still watched nervously from a few feet away. "Well, you wanted to help, right? Come here," he grunted, waving them over. They slowly walked over and sat in front of him, cautiously watching him. "So, Yan, what'd you do?"

"What?" Yan flinched slightly, half expecting Anti to lash out at them again.

"What did you do to get corrupted?"

"Oh, that." They looked away. "I used an item with a Soul core in it. I have a Heart core." 

"Really, that's it? Why?"

"Well," they hesitated, "I really like this guy, and I was scared I was going to lose him to someone else. So I used the item to cut their heartstrings." They looked up to see Anti staring at them with disbelief. His mouth slowly curled into a smile and he started to howl with laughter. "Why are you laughing?!" 

"Are you kidding me?" He spoke after catching his breath. "You got corrupted over a crush?! Oh my god, you know what this makes you? A Yan-dere!" He began to laugh harder at his own joke.

"Stop laughing, it's not funny," they huffed, crossing their arms. "Whatever! How did you corrupt then, if what I did was so ridiculous?!"

"How do you even know I'm corrupt?" 

"You literally just threw me into the stairway with glitch magic."

"You got me there," Anti admitted, reaching up to gently scratch at his neck. A few bits of caked-up blood flaked off. "It's a long story. I was at a low point in my life, thought magic would help. Obviously, that wasn't the case."

"How did your family react to finding out you're corrupted?" Yan asked. They tensed when they saw his face grow solemn. "Sorry, I just- I'm really worried about what might happen if my friends or family find out."

"No, it's fine," Anti said. "My family was out of the picture long before I corrupted."

"Oh. I'm sorry to hear that."

"Don't be," Anti scoffed, shaking his head. "I doubt they miss me much, anyways." Those words hung in the air for what felt like hours before he spoke again. "Hey, Yandere, now's not the time to mope around. We got work to do."

"Are you seriously going to keep calling me that?"

"Absolutely." He handed them a notebook with a wink.

"Whatever," they grumbled, snatching the notebook from his hand. Their brow furrowed as they flipped through the crumpled, occasionally bloodstained pages. "Your handwriting is terrible. Does this say 'soul' or 'seal'?"

Anti leaned forward to read the scribbled words. "That says 'core'."

Yan looked at the page again. "You're such a mess."

Anti snickered. "Oh yeah, well-"

Henrik opened the door to the apartment, a pile of old books precariously balanced under one arm. He watched the other two on the floor, quickly exchanging playful insults back and forth. He couldn't help the smile tugging at his lips. His efforts always felt so hopeless,yet such a small exchange between strangers made him feel optimistic for the first time in months. Maybe there was some hope left.

[wwoww-au]

Henrik, Anti, was the best and worst thing about having eachother as roomies?

Henrik: Is there a ‘best thing’ about living with Anti?

Anti: Hey! I’m not that bad!

Henrik: The help with research is appreciated. Worst thing is the damage he’s done to the walls. There is no way I will be able to fix those knife marks.

Anti: Best thing about having Henrik as a roommate? Having somewhere to live, if you can call it that. Better than the other options. Worst thing... Probably the, uh, the bad nights, y’know? [His voice drops to a whisper] It’s rough seeing him go through that.

[wwoww-au]

The Good Doctor

Dark woke up in a bright room. They had a pounding headache, and something was attached to their arm. They shot up in bed as the memories came flooding back- the lights, the show, the food, the basement, and Bim.  They looked around wildly, mild panic setting in before they remembered what had happened after. Their retrieval from the streets of south London, and the long trip back to the Committee. Maybe they really did need those vacation days that Abe always pressured them to take.

They were in some sort of hospital bed, a curtain partitioning them from the rest of the room. A slow IV drip filled with restorative magic was attached to their arm, helping them return to full strength. There were bandages around their wrists and ankles, and it hurt to move them. As they tried to get their bearings, they spotted a shadow walking around the room and tried to call out to them, but the only thing that came out was a raspy gurgle.

The shadow moved closer and the curtains were pushed aside to reveal Dr. Henrik von Schneeplestein, holding a mug full of steaming liquid. The doctor looked exhausted, but managed a brief smile for his patient.

“Good to see you’re up so soon. Normally those subjected to that much corrupt magic take a longer time to heal,” the doctor said quietly as he carefully handed the mug to Dark. They winced as they felt their wrist sting a bit from the strain of holding the mug.

“What is this, some kind of healing potion?” they asked in a whisper. It smelled good for a healing potion, a sweet and warm scent.

“Something like that,” Henrik replied, smiling for a moment and folding his hands in front of him. “Tea with honey and lemon, for your throat. Whatever horrible spell that madman used did some severe damage to your throat, so it will take a few weeks to fully recover. Just drink one of these once a day and try not to talk too much, and your throat will be right as rain.”

Dark nodded in confirmation. “Thank you, doctor,” they whispered. “If that's it, I think I'll be going.” They moved to get up, hissing as the pain in their wrists and ankles flared up again.

“Where do you think you're going?” Henrik's voice was calm, but with an underlying panicked tone. He placed a hand on Dark's shoulder to push them back down, but pulled back when they instinctively flinched at the gentle touch. “The corrupt magic hasn't fully filtered out of your body yet, what you need now is to rest.” Dark grumbled under their breath before settling back on the bed with a huff. They were sure they’d feel better walking around and getting some fresh air, but they weren’t about to strain their voice arguing.

Henrik let out a tired sigh and pulled off his glasses, wiping off a few specks of dust with a simple white handkerchief. “Drink the tea,” he ordered gently, “and get some rest. I’ll check on you in an hour and we’ll see how you’re doing then, alright?”

Dark nodded and took a sip of the hot tea. It was sweet and soothing, but still stung slightly as they swallowed. “Thanks, doctor,” they said softly, setting the mug on a side table.

“For the last time, please call me Henrik,” the doctor huffed. “I’m only practicing because I have no other choice. I’d hardly consider myself a doctor.” He tensed and looked towards the end of Dark’s bed.

Dark hesitated. They could tell Henrik didn’t want to talk about what he’d done to get his item broken, but at the same time, Dark couldn’t think of a better time to ask. They hadn’t gotten the opportunity to bring it up the many other times they’d visited Henrik. They considered trying to ask Abe again, but quickly dismissed the idea. Henrik was the only one who was likely at all to give them a clear answer.

“What did you do?” they asked finally, stopping Henrik in his tracks as he was about to walk away. They could see his shoulders tighten, and then sag. He let out a shaky breath before turning to face Dark again.

Henrik gave Dark a strained smile. “I tried to play god,” he said, voice catching slightly. Before Dark could press him further, the doctor turned on his heel and pushed past the curtain, leaving Dark alone. Another question they’d never know the answer to.

Dark slid down more into the bed and let out another huff. They’d been met with closed doors ever since they showed up at the Crime Department. If they snooped too much into things, they’d be gently steered away like a nosy child. They felt more and more like an outsider every day. If it didn’t have to do with Warfstache, it wasn’t deemed necessary for Dark to know.

Dark tried to fall asleep and rest like Henrik had ordered, but every time they closed their eyes, all they saw was Bim’s face, jagged teeth too close for comfort. The minutes seemed to drag along, and Dark eventually swung their legs over the side of the bed. They downed the rest of the tea quickly and carefully detached the IV drip. When they peered their head around the curtain, Henrik was nowhere to be seen. He must have gone off to his room somewhere. Dark took their coat off of the rack by the door and slipped out of the office.

“Hello, Dark.”

Dark froze in their tracks, cringing at the sound of the voice behind them. Maybe if they ignored him, he’d go away. If they just kept walking-

“Dude, don’t ignore me. That’s rude.”

Dark let out a tired sigh before turning around and facing one of the biggest names in the Crime Department, and the second biggest pain in their ass.

Mare Sharp.

His flawlessly messy black hair covered one eye, and the iridescent blue scars running down his face shimmered perfectly in the light. He wore a clever, knowing smirk, and twirled the long wire of his microphone around one finger.

“What do you want, Mare?” Dark sighed, praying for some easy way to escape the conversation.

“Well, that’s no way to greet a friend,” Mare teased. Dark glared. “I was coming to visit you, but I guess ol’ Grump-lestein released you early.” He frowned and tapped his chin, then grinned wickedly. “Oh wait, he didn’t release you early, did he?”

Dark looked down and shuffled their feet. “It’s none of your business,” they grumbled, shoving their hands in their pockets.

“Well, no,” Mare chuckled, “but if I were you, I wouldn’t be trying to get into any more trouble than you already are.” Dark’s head snapped back up, meeting Mare’s smug gaze.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” they asked, eyes wide. They were in trouble? For what? What had they done wrong?

“Well, you didn’t catch Warfstache again, for one,” Mare said, voice dripping with theatrical sympathy. “You got way off mission, and you almost got Abe killed.”

“That- I- That wasn’t my fault!” Dark stammered, throwing their hands in the air. “This stupid glittery conman said he’d lead us to Warfstache! It’s not my fault he lied!”

“Yeah, well- wait, you met Marvin?”

“Is that important?” Dark raised an eyebrow.

“N-no!” Mare yelped, looking away quickly. “You didn’t catch him, did you?”

Dark thought they spied a red tint spreading across Mare’s face, but it was gone before they could be sure. “No,” they answered slowly. “He knocked us out and turned us over to Trimmer.”

Mare cleared his throat and turned away from Dark. “Well, good luck with the Committee,” he said, giving Dark a single wave before stalking away, head low and coat flowing behind him.

Dark chuckled and turned the other way, shaking their head slightly as they went. They knew the look of someone with a crush. Whatever encounter Mare had had with Marvin, it’d left a lasting impression.

.

.

Henrik made sure the curtain was completely closed before quietly pushing aside the carpet covering the trapdoor next to his desk. He lifted the trapdoor slowly, letting out a sigh of relief when it didn’t creak and revealing a steep staircase down into the basement. Stealing one last glance over his shoulder, he crept down as silently as he could, gently lowering the hatch behind him. He walked carefully down the shoddy stairs, hand grazing against a familiar spot of the wall in search of the light switch in the dark. He flipped the switch, and single bare lightbulb weakly flickered to life to illuminate the room.

Something flew by his head, hitting the wall behind him with a dull thud. Henrik turned to find a bloodstained knife buried into the wall mere inches from his face. Completely unphased, he simply sighed and turned back to the room. “Another dead end?” he called quietly to a figure sitting hunched over a desk near the back of the dimly lit room.

“This is the third fucking book you’ve brought me this week, and I still haven’t found anything that can be useful!” the figure spat, slamming a heavy leather-bound book shut. He abruptly stood up and stalked towards the center of the room, carrying the book with him. Now under direct light, the figure’s gaunt appearance was more visible. He had pallid skin and sunken, mismatched eyes. A jagged wound split his neck, fresh blood staining the collar of his already dirty black shirt.

“Anti, I’ve told you before, there isn’t a lot of actually helpful research on it. There’s only so many books available, even at the Library.” Henrik said sympathetically, unphased by the other’s injury. “We just have to keep looking.”

“You’ve been saying that for the past… I don’t know how long! I’m tired of there not being any leads. We’re just going in fucking circles at this point!” Anti shouted, clearly frustrated. He turned to face a wall, and chucked the book as hard as he could. It slammed against the wall, falling to the ground next to a messy bed.

Henrik winced at the loud noise. “I know you’re frustrated, but could you please try to be a little more quiet? I have a patient upstairs, and they’re from the Crime Department. I’m on thin ice as it is, do you know what they’ll do to me if they find out I have an undead person living down here? Do you know what they’ll do to you?”

Anti kept his back turned to Henrik to hide the look of regret on his face. He turned on his heel, arms crossed. “Whatever…” he grumbled, shooting a sneer at Henrik.

He stalked back over to the desk, collapsing in the beat up leather chair with stuffing coming out of several gashes in its leather. He leaned forward and poked at a jar that sat there, smiling when he saw movement in the murky green liquid. “Heya, Sam,” he crooned, the living eyeball running itself into the glass to meet Anti’s finger. “Aw, looks like someone wants a little attention.” He twirled his finger across the glass, laughing as the little eyeball followed it with the intensity of a kitten chasing a laser pointer.

Henrik sighed. He and his roommate always tended to argue over the smallest things, and some days it would make him too exhausted to deal with anything. He walked over and picked up the fallen book, walking back to the stairs as he let out yet another exhausted sigh. “I'll get you another book as soon as I can, but you know we have to be careful. Too many trips to the Library and the Committee might get suspicious.” He didn’t bother facing Anti as he spoke. All he got in response was a low growl, as always. Anti consistently seemed to be angry or frustrated at something and everything, and it was useless to try to reason with him. The best Henrik could do was ignore him or leave the room, and he had a patient he needed to treat anyways. “Oh, and Sam’s fluid needs to be cleaned,” Henrik added. “It’s your turn.”

He trudged back up the stairs, turning the light off as he went. After a quick peek to make sure no one was in his room, he quietly snuck out of the basement and closed the trap door behind him. He walked into his office, but instead of a sleeping patient he saw an empty bed. He heard voices outside the door to the hallway, and recognized both. Normally he would at least attempt to bring Dark back in, but he was far too tired to argue with two more people just as stubborn as Anti; so instead he pulled out his flask and took a few long swallows.

“I’m not dealing with that shit,” he muttered to himself, sitting down at his desk to organize some paperwork. Reaching into his desk to retrieve the stack of papers, he hesitated before sliding open a small compartment in the back. Before he could remove its contents, however, there was a loud knock at his door, and an enthusiastic voice calling his name.

“Henrik, I know you’re in there!” the voice called cheerfully. Henrik tightened the lid on his flask and tossed it in the desk drawer before closing it and standing up. Was it really Sunday already? He glanced at the clock on the wall as he approached the door. Three in the afternoon, right on time.

“Henrik!” The doctor was pulled off of his feet and into a tight bear hug as soon as he opened the door. He pretended to gasp for air when he was finally let go.

Jackie Boymin towered over Henrik, looking down at him with a radiant grin. It felt like Henrik was staring up at his polar opposite. Jackie was kind, understanding, friendly, positive, happy, and everything else that Henrik wasn’t. He had also been assigned Henrik’s personal escort, and had self-assigned himself as Henrik’s therapist. Jackie absolutely radiated positivity, which was even more obvious when compared with Henrik. Jackie’s positive energy was only amplified by the buttons on his bright red coat lapels, each enchanted to radiate their own positive field. His short, messy brown hair was pushed back by a pair of blue and gold goggles- his magic item.

“Afternoon, Jackie,” Henrik huffed, stepping aside to let Jackie into the office. He could have sworn the room visibly brightened as his tall companion bounced inside.

“Good afternoon, Henrik!” Jackie responded cheerily, producing a pair of large, comfortable chairs with a flick of his wrist. He took a seat, and gestured to the one across from him. “How are you doing today?”

“I’ve been better,” Henrik sighed, practically falling into the soft chair cushions. “Mostly just tired.” Henrik’s response was always the same, but it never seemed to discourage Jackie. Nothing discouraged Jackie.

“Have you been getting enough sleep lately?” Jackie asked, clearly hoping Henrik’s response would change at least somewhat.

Henrik shook his head, and Jackie let out a patient sigh. “You need to sleep, Henrik,” Jackie said gently. “I know it’s hard, but you’ll feel better if you’re well rested. I don’t know if it would help, but perhaps we could arrange for the WC to let me—”

“I don’t need a roommate,” Henrik interrupted, shaking his head again. “I sleep better on my own.” Truth be told, Henrik probably wouldn’t mind having Jackie as a roommate, but it wasn’t for his own sake that he repeatedly turned down the positivity wizard’s company. He couldn’t risk anyone finding Anti. The Committee wouldn’t be pleased with Henrik if they found the dead body beneath his floor boards, or any of their research for that matter.

Jackie’s face showed that he severely doubted that, but he wasn’t going to push him on it. “Alright, but if you ever change your mind, you can-“

“I can go and ask you. I know.” There was an awkward silence for a minute, and Henrik had to stop himself from instinctually reaching for his flask.

“So, how are you doing? Have you made any progress?”

“Yes. I haven’t touched a drink in a while.” It wasn’t exactly a lie, a few minutes was a while.

“You haven’t been been following the plan at all, have you?”

“I have, I promise. You can check if you want, you won’t find anything.” Of course he wouldn’t, Henrik had moved all of his usual hiding spots. Jackie gave him a doubtful look as he stood up and began to search around, as he was required to every visit. He only remembered the flask he had carelessly tossed into the drawer when Jackie pulled it out with a sigh.

“I don’t think this is apple juice, Henrik,” Jackie teased, twisting the lid off of the flask and giving its contents a whiff. He scrunched up his nose and quickly replaced the lid. Henrik appreciated his attempt to sound lighthearted, but he could tell Jackie was disappointed.

“I have been making progress,” Henrik half-mumbled, looking down at the floor. “It’s just to take the edge off.” He glanced up at Jackie, fully prepared to see just how let down he looked. Instead, he was greeted with sympathetic eyes and a gentle smile. Henrik didn’t know what he’d done to deserve Jackie.

Jackie sighed and tossed the flask back in the desk drawer. “I know,” he said, giving Henrik a gentle pat on his shoulder before sitting down again. Henrik watched tensely as Jackie produced a pen and clipboard from his pocket and began checking off a list. It happened every week, but watching Jackie check off his list for the Committee was always just as stressful. Henrik itched to grab his flask out of his drawer, but not while Jackie was sitting right there. He’d already disappointed the positivity wizard enough.

After what felt like an eternity, Jackie slipped the checklist back in his pocket and stood up, a wide grin spread across his face. “Anything else I can do for you, Henrik?” he asked, helping the doctor out of his chair. “Books, food, supplies?”

“Not today,” Henrik replied, somewhat sheepishly. “You are too kind to me, Jackie. I don’t deserve it.” Henrik shoved his hands in his pockets, avoiding looking up at Jackie. He tensed when Jackie pulled him close in a gentle hug.

“How many times am I going to have to tell you, Henrik?” Jackie chuckled. “No matter what you’ve done, you deserve to be happy as much as everyone else.” He held Henrik out at arms length, hands clasped firmly on the doctor’s shoulders. “Now, I’ll see you next week, same time, right?”

Henrik nodded silently, afraid that if he tried to speak he’d just burst out into tears instead. He was so used to being scorned at every turn whenever he stepped out of his office, Jackie’s unconditional kindness constantly caught him off guard. He wouldn’t blame Jackie if he ever quit trying. Henrik was more of a hopeless case than the file marked ‘Bim Trimmer.’

“Chin up, Henrik,” Jackie said suddenly. “Things will get better, I promise. Here—” Jackie popped one of the pins off of his lapel, a simple black and silver diamond— “You need this more than I do.” Before Henrik could protest, Jackie had already stuck the pin on the collar of his shirt. It felt… warm, like stepping outside on a warm summer day. Henrik could almost picture the picnic blanket spread out on the freshly cut grass, his… no. They were gone. Henrik cleared the image from his mind and looked up at Jackie.

“Thank you, friend.” Henrik stepped aside as Jackie packed up the chairs, and opened the door for the taller wizard. Jackie gave Henrik one last hug before he stepped out the door.

“Anytime!” Jackie pointed a pair of finger guns at Henrik.

Henrik almost closed the door, but stopped when he remembered what had happened earlier. “Oh, and if you see Dark, remind them to keep drinking tea with honey!”

Jackie nodded and Henrik finished closing the door. Now that the walking beacon of positivity had left the room, the difference was clearer than night and day. Henrik immediately felt his spirit drop, only lifted slightly by the pin on his collar. He opened the door a crack and made sure that Jackie turned the corner before closing the door again. Feeling only slightly bad for betraying Jackie’s trust, Henrik pulled his flask out of the desk drawer and collapsed in the old office chair. It had been a long day, and what Jackie didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him. No more patients that day meant that Henrik could spend the rest of his evening drinking and forgetting.

Jackie didn’t know what he was talking about. Henrik needed this. He wasn’t sure how he’d survive if he had to live with the constant memory of what he’d done every time he closed his eyes, not to mention the undead reminder living in his basement. Eying the door to his office one last time, Henrik opened the leg of his desk and pulled out a large bottle of whiskey, ready to down it all and forget the whole night.

[wwoww-au]

Say hello to two dubious boys!

They’re morally grey at best.

- mod crow

[wwoww-au]

How does/how often doesHenrik interact with Sam?

Whenever he goes down to the basement, so pretty regularly. He talks to him while he changes out the septic tank fluid. Anti makes sure the fluid stays clean when Henrik’s too busy to.

-mod Crow

[wwoww-au]

How did Anti find out about Sam? What does he think about him?

Sam was around before Anti was, and Anti likes Sam more than he’s willing to let on. He’s like a tiny adorable roommate that you can’t help but love, yet refuse to admit you do.

-mod Crow