Herding Sheep: Chapter Two

Anti works on breaking in his new “brother”, and Henrik feels himself slowly losing his will.

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Thwap, thwap, thwap.

Fleshy fists bang on the door to the room in the basement, echoing up through the floor. Jameson curls in on himself, pressing against Anti’s chest in their shared bed. Something is wrong, but it’s no matter, Anti will fix it. Anti always fixes it.

Just as he is settling back in there is a loud scream. Anti grumbles and sits up, looking young and soft in a blue hoodie, with green swirling hair and soft eyes. Jameson melts in the early morning light at his appearance. My sweet brother, he thinks, reaching up and touching Anti’s face. Anti looks down at him, smiling.

“Is that fucking doctor bothering you, sweet boy?” Anti purrs. Jameson pouts exageratedly, rubbing his eyes, trying to seem small and frightened. Meanwhile Henrik bangs and screams in the basement. Anti growls, standing up and grabbing a knife from under his pillow. “Well well then, let’s go shut his bold little lips before he bothers you anymore.”

Anti leaves the room, whistling Daisy Do as he tromps down the hallway toward the basement. Jameson curls up in his blankets, smiling. Anti always fixes it.

The door bangs open nearly in Henrik’s face, causing him to stumble backward and fall on his ass. Peeking around the door, Anti slides into the room, standing over Henrik.

“Screaming all fucking night. Banging up the doors, waking up my pet, waking up my sweet baby boy.” Anti is growling, teeth growing larger in his mouth, dog-like and fanged. Henrik pants and scrambles backward away from the glint of a knife. But he isn’t fast enough. A knife comes down into his foot, severing tendons and sending blood squelching out. Henrik screams. He empties his lungs, eyes bulging at the sight of so much of his own blood. Anti is laughing, only for a moment, tugging the chain around Henrik’s leg.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay.” The echo and glitching is gone, replaced by a soft, boyish Irish accent. Anti squats on the floor beside Henrik, who is still groaning with the pain. “Look, sorry I stabbed you. I had to you know, you were being so loud, waking up my baby brother and all. Surely you understand, yeah?”

Henrik squeezes his eyes shut, avoiding the glow of gold coming from his astral, beautiful eyes. Anti huffs out a breath through his nose, picking at Henrik’s eyelid. When it doesn’t open, he grips Henrik’s throat and squeezes. Hard. Henrik gags out a half-inhale, and his eyes shoot open and- Oh, oh the eyes. Henrik slumps, panting, hands limp by his side, bleeding foot creating a puddle on the floor. His chains rattle and he blinks slowly. Why was he screaming? He wanted to escape? But why, why would he ever run from this feeling. So warm, so soft, so gently he sinks into the light. Anti grins, teeth poking over his lips.

“There’s a good puppet. You just need a little light, aren’t you so scared of the dark, love? Aren’t you scared of the darkness in you?” Henrik whimpers, hanging his head shamefully. “You want to hurt them. Those creations back at home. You want to hurt your family don’t you? Well I can help. I can bring light to you, Arzt, I c-”

Anti is cut off by a frantic fist slamming into his chest, choking the air out of him and knocking him on his ass. Henrik screams and grips his hair. “GET OUT OF MY HEAD!” Half a scream half a whine. Henrik’s breathing is unsteady and deep, trying to ground himself through the pain in his foot and the implanted warmth in his head. Anti laughs, standing up.

“You’ll see soon. You’ll see, I can make you happy. We can have a nice life, you, me, and the pet.” Anti flips his knife in his hands. “The sooner you comply, the less pain. You don’t want pain, right? Had enough of that when I kidnapped you last time, huh?” Henrik slowly shakes his head, curling up on the floor. Anti nods his head, then turns to leave.

“Wait- Wait! How… how long will you keep me here. Tell me that at least. How long before you kill me?”

“Kill you. Hahaha. Kill you, kill you.” Anti laughs as though it is the funniest joke he has ever heard. “Oh Henrik, confused little doctor. So lost and confused. I’m not going to kill you.” Anti turns around and grins at him, eyes dripping gold. “You belong to me, you see. And I hate to break my toys.”

Anti is gone before Henrik can even blink. His foot bleeds into the concrete. His head feels stuffed with cotton. He curls up on the floor and cries, and cries, and cries, for the home it is starting to feel he will never return to. Chase’s homecooked meals, Marvin’s glowing fire, Jackie’s protective arms. It feels already like a dream from another life. So far away from the light in the onster’s eyes.

—

Jameson stirs mac-n-cheese in an old copper pot on the gas stove, trembling slightly. Anti isn’t happy, Anti isn’t happy and he has been a very bad pet. His nose drips blood onto his nice white shirt, staining the embroidered knife in cruel irony.

The steady shlicking of a knife against wood threatens him from the living room as Anti carves. “Dapper, is the food almost done? Hurry the fuck uuuup.” Anti’s tone is playful and brotherly, as though he wasn’t punching Jameson in the face less than 30 minutes ago. Jameson whistles at him shakily from the kitchen, letting him know to be patient. Jameson dumps a very large helping of the noodles into Anti’s bowl, and schlops the rest into his own. He walks into the living room and sets the bowls on the coffee table. Anti does not look up from his carving. Jameson does not meet his eyes, sitting in the big armchair and stirring his mac-n-cheese around, and around, and around.

“You looked at him without my permission. You don’t have the right to be mad at me, you should know not to look at prisoners unless I’m wearing you.”

“Yes Anti.”

“You stay away from him until he’s broken in. He’s a dark, dark man, a killer. He killed his fucking accountant, and many, many more.”

“Yes Anti.”

“He’s a lunatic.”

“Yes Anti.”

Not broken in yet. That is his excuse this time, hm? Jameson stirs his food more focusedly, avoiding his brother’s piercing gaze. He nibbles a bite of cheesy noodles. Anti carves, carves, carves, obsessive and repetitive, his gaze turned away from Jameson at last.

“Anti?”

“What.”

“Does the prisoner get to eat?”

Anti laughs. “Not yet, but he has a pipe to drink from.”

Jameson fiddles with his fork. He peeks at the basement door. There hasn’t been any banging since this morning. He hopes big brother didn’t hurt the prisoner too badly, because he can only imagine Anti’s rage if his new toy dies. He sets his bowl down. Not hungry anymore.

Henrik lays on his cot, foot having clotted, but still aching and unusable. He sniffles into his pillows, far past the shame and pride that usually stops him from crying. He wipes away snot and squeezes his eyes shut, rocking back and forth as he thinks of home. Home, home, home. God why can he barely remember? Chase’s cooking, Marvin’s fire, Jackie’s arms around him. It is staring to feel so far away.

Anti trudges his boots down the stairs, listening with glee to the fearful scrabbling coming from Henrik’s little room.

“Hiya puppet,” he says as he unlocks and pushes open the door.

“I do not belong to you, zum donnerwetter Depp!” He spits curses, trying to seem strong and unbroken. Anti smiles. A knife flips in his hand. Henrik flinches at the glint of the blade.

“You are just begging to be all cut up again, just like last time. Just like in that basement in Germany. Ah, good times we had, hm? My blade in your skin, my hands alll over you.” His voice echoes in the room, reverberating as Henrik feels the ghosts of nails scraping and blades cutting, instinctively shifting his right arm behind his back to hide scars.

“Asshole,” he hisses.

“Oh come on, be friendly! No biting Arzt, bad dog.” Anti is suddenly sitting at the foot of his bed, flip, flip, flipping his blade. “You could be happy here, I think. You and me, we’re family. We shouldn’t be fighting, you’re my big brother.” Childlike, wide blue eyes look up at Henrik. Henrik’s heart skips, something untangling in his mind. His eyes fog over and he feels that same warmth and softness, the light seeping in the wrinkles of his brain.

“My… my brother? No… No, you are a monster. You are not my-”

“Brother, big brother, come home to me.” Anti’s eyes glow golden and slip into Henrik’s weak will, and Henrik he slips into the light. Yes, yes, my family. This is my brother, why have I been running, why did I not trust him before, yes my brother. Henrik pants and falls back on the pillows, so overwhelmed with love he can hardly move.

“Come home to me Arzt. I’ll leave you time to make up your mind. Next time I come down here you will make a choice. Right baby? You sweet little doll, you’ll come home and take care of master’s chores.” Anti seems almost daydreaming as he slips out of the door. Henrik curls up on the pillow, eyes rattling, teeth gritted. There is a great, sucking wound in his skull. Why can’t he remember? There was something to remember right? Something he was clinging to, something other than this cot and the monster’s eyes. But it doesn’t matter. Anti will fix it. Anti will come back down the stairs and fix it. Come home, come home, it echoes in the gaping hole in his skull.

Henrik slips into a deep sleep, dreaming of fresh cooked meals, of fire and laughter, of warm protective arms around him, but none of them have faces.

Tension

Fantasy Masks AU: Chapter Eleven

A JSE Fanfic

Ayy, another one! Are you excited? I am! The group heads back to Wyvernlair, with a few small scenes happening along the way. Marvin and Jameson are here now, having some time adjusting to being in the group. Then, once they actually arrive and meet up with Jackie, he and Marvin…well, they have a lot of stuff to sort out. Not to mention there’s something going on with Jameson… Anyway, here it is, enjoy reading :D

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It took a few days for the group to lose any potential pursuers. Chase wasn’t sure that they’d been followed in the first place—or if they had, he didn’t think it was for long—but he understood the reasoning. They were heading back to Wyvernlair, the Masked Phantoms’ main base. They couldn’t risk the King or any of his warriors knowing where that was.

Once they were sure nobody knew where they’d gone, the group shifted direction, heading west instead of south. Chase had been confused about that, at first. They were mainly using the river as transportation. Wouldn’t it be hard to find a stream that headed in the direction they wanted? But that wasn’t the case. As it turned out, the defining characteristic of marshlands like the Moors was, in fact, still water, making it very easy to navigate. Who knew? Certainly not Chase; he’d never been in a marsh before this.

But as it turned out, Marvin had spent a lot of time in the Southern Moors. Chase had been surprised by that. He didn’t really seem the type. Though, maybe that was generalizing. Wizards had always seemed like they’d spend their time sitting in palace towers, reading books and practicing spells while wearing fine robes and jewelry. Chase had never pictured one spending time in swampy marshes.

Keep reading

19 notes View Post

dapper-puppet

3 years ago

Out Of Time

A/N: @obsidiancreates suggested last night that I write a hero au fic where Schneep and JJ have to help out Marvin… it’s spiralled out of control from there.

I have forgotten my entire taglist… uhh @a-humble-narcissus @kairomancerr @egopocalypse @dakotathewhale oh please let me know if I’ve forgotton you or if you want to be added/removed

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“Timekeeper?“ Marvin asked quietly, watching the figure slowly step forward out of the shadows of the alley.

The Glitch smiled behind his mask as the man moved to stand next to him. “I’ll give you a choice, M͘agn̕͞i̧͝͡f͢i̧c͘e̛͟n̨t̵: join my ranks, or I’ll let my pet here show you what a mistake you’ve made.”

Marv growled. “You think I’d ever join you? Bullshit.” He let a small flicker of flame slowly climb up his arm, readying himself for a fight.

“I was̢ w͠o̶r̀ŗi̸e͡d ҉y͢ou'̵d͝ saỳ t̴h̢a̸t…” The Glitch grinned, and his eye flashed green.

The Timekeeper’s head snapped up violently, and he took a step towards Marvin.

The magician raised his hand. “Not a step closer, buddy, or I'll— what the—?”

The Timekeeper cocked a grin, and the flames in his hand disappeared. He felt bile rise in his throat, dizziness sweeping him as he tried to light the flames again, only to have them snap off a second later. All he could feel was déjà vu.

“He could keep doing this forev͢e̛r҉, you know? Throwing you back a few seconds, back to when you didn’t have your magic flowing,” The Glitch said, giggling. “You’d n̷e̷v̧er ͞wįn.”

Marvin scowled. “Well, you won’t win this, Glitch.”

The masked man threw his head back and cackled. “I have time on my side, Magnificent! I’ve already ẁo҉n͡!” He snapped his fingers, and the Timekeeper nodded.

Marvin screamed.

***

All Jameson could hear was the ticking of a clock. His head was filled with static, and all he could think of was the ticking, loud and constant.

Loud and constant and his.

The man in front of him had steel in his eyes and flames at his wrists, but as he looked at JJ through his cat-shaped mask, betrayal and fear flickered across his face.

He was causing that fear, the expression deepening every time he wound back time on the man, extinguishing his flames. The static told him to be proud.

He was.

Suddenly, he felt it push him towards the man, so he walked. As he grew closer, the ticking grew louder and the static grew thicker.

And then it told him to take.

The ticking rang in his ears and he knew and he wanted to take

take everything take it all it was his it was his it was all his to do with as he pleased every second every minute was his he needed to tākę i͜t͠

He needed to take everything.

He barely registered the man in front of his screaming as he pulled the years from his life, slowly syphoning off every minute, watching them twirl around him in a delicate dance until the man collapsed to his knees and then onto the ground, no life left to give.

Static and satisfaction settled into his chest. It was his.

The ticking rang in his ears, loud and constant.

Then the static came and whispered in his ear, stoking his hair gently. “Good job, little Timekeeper. Such a good little p̢up͡p̧et, taking and taking and taking,” it whispered. JJ nodded, not feeling the tears dripping down his face. “You did so well…”

The static rushed in, and he blacked out.

***

Jameson came to, head spinning. His whole body ached, and he sat up, head spinning. What had just—

Magnificent lay, unmoving, on the pavement in front of him.

All at once, the memories of what had just happened came crashing in on him, and he struggled not to throw up.

“No, no, nonono,” he cried, crawling over to the hero. “Magnificent, wake up, wake up!” His slides flashed rapidly as he shook him, although inside he knew it was pointless.

Magnificent was dead.

And he had killed him.

His breath caught, and he felt all the blood drain from his face.

He…

He killed someone. Took every second of time they had from them.

And he’d enjoyed it.

His breathing began to speed up, and he grabbed his hair, rocking slowing back and forth. Slides flickered in the air beside him, filled with apologies and denials and silent pleas for help.

With tears pouring down his cheeks, he wished desperately that he could scream. He needed help he needed help he someone god help

Everything around him shattered.

Ticking rang in his ears.

help who could help he needed them here now he needed help what had he done?

He pulled.

***

One moment, Henrik was quietly enjoy a cup of coffee, and the next, he found himself next to the Timekeeper and Magnificent.

One of whom was panicking, the other dead.

Schneep’s heart dropped. Swirling around the Timekeeper he could see bright orange of panic, laced with the muddy reds and purples of grief and fear.

And around Marvin was nothing.

The Timekeeper looked up at him, desperation and mania in his eyes. “Please, Medic, you must heal him! I’ve done something to him, taken all his time, but I know that you can save him! Right?”

Henrik looked down at the two of them, colour draining from his face. “Mein freund… I cannot heal someone who is already dead.”

The Timekeeper’s face dropped. “No, you must. I couldn’t have killed him, no… No, no, no…”

Schneep took a step back, feeling something around him start to shift.

“No, I couldn’t have, no, oh what have I done whathaveIdonewhathaveIdonewhathaveIdone?”

With that, something fractured.

Henrik stumbled backwards, only to be pulled back to where he was a few second prior, and then to find himself with his hands pressed to Marvin’s still chest. The Timekeeper seemed to be experiencing the same thing, jumping forwards and backwards in time, his expression rapidly changing. Schneep managed to find a second to look up, only to see the time of day begin to change, jumping from night to day like a skipping record.

“Timekeeper!” he tried to yell, feeling his words get swallowed up by the jumps. He was thrown to his feet again. “Timekeeper, you must stop this!“

He threw himself forward, arms wrapping around the smaller man. With a thought, he grabbed hold of his emotions and began to reign them in, trying not to be too harsh about it, feeling a little bit guilty about using his powers without consent.

"Let us calm down now, ja? It is alright,” he whispered, patting his back. “You can explain to me what has happened, and then we can see what can be done.”

The Timekeeper nodded slowly, his breathing still shaky, and Henrik gently pulled out of the hug.

“Tell me what has happened.”

The Timekeeper took a deep inhale. “Something had me not in my right mind, doc. It told me to…” He looked down, breath hitching. “It told me to take the Magnificent’s time from him. And I couldn’t say no, so I drained the living right out of him, year by year. And now he’s gone and it’s all my fault and—”

Schneep shushed him. “It is not your fault, Timekeeper. It is, I will assume, the Glitch’s. He is an evil, evil man, and it is not your fault what he made you to do.”

“…no?”

“Of course not. You were not the one in the controls of your own mind. What you can control for, though, is what you do now, ja? If you could take the years straight out of him, then why not see if you can put them right back in his little body?"

"I could try…” replied the Timekeeper tentatively.

Henrik kneeled to the ground, placing his hands on his friend’s still body, praying that the plan would work. “I will do the healing of him at the same time, to help. Now, work your timey-wimey magics! Little Marvin is not done on this Earth quite yet!”

The Timekeeper took a deep breath and placed his hands on Marvin’s body as well.

***

Marvin awoke to a ticking, loud and constant. His body and mind ached, and he swore as he sat up, feeling like he’d aged a hundred years.

He pried his eyes open to see two very tired, very relieved looking people beside him, their hands lingering near him.

“It worked…” said the Timekeeper.

Marvin blinked, shocking away. “What worked? Are you not still evil or possessed or whatever now? Am I missing something here?”

Schneep patted him. “Perhaps it is best if we explain later. You have had a long day.”

He shrugged. “Whatever you say, man. I just need a nap.”

51 notes View Post

dapper-puppet

3 years ago

"Alluring" with Marvin?

“Keep your eyes on the crystal,” Marvin cooed with an soothing smile as he twirled the chain gently between his fingers. “Watch how it reflects the candlelight. Back and forth...It invites you to reflect too. Let it carry the weight of your thoughts. Let it ease your mind, take all of your stresses away.”

43 notes View Post

dapper-puppet

3 years ago

Whumptober #31: Prisoner

“This shan’t be the end of me, madcap. I’ll get out.”

Physically, Jameson was unresistant to his bonds. He didn’t flail or sob as Anti stripped his hat, vest and shoes. That blind panic had always been part of the fun, but the Glitch was game for something fresh.

“Is thi͡s͜ th͞e d҉e̡f̕ian̴ce͘ ̕they’ve ̨be̵en t̷ea҉c͞hing ͠you, pu͜ppet͠? Tak͡i̷ng ̢a̴ stan̢ḑ wit̛h pr͜e͞t̀t͏y word͝s?” Grinning, he slid his knife along the underside of Jameson’s jaw, point digging into the soft curve. He flinched just enough. “Go ̀on, then̴, ̢brav̢e b̶òy. Gi͡v̕e ̵y̧o̡u͟r ͠s͢p̵eec̛h.”

“Round and round, it’s always the same.” The hardness of Jameson’s gaze shone with unbid moisture. “No doubt you’ll string me up…violate my body, my mind. But it shan’t last forever. I shall be free again, which is far more than I can say for you, Master. Preying on my weaknesses will never free you of yours.”

46 notes View Post

dapper-puppet

3 years ago

R.I.P Anti