"Do You Remember?.." With Schneep And Jj?

Southward

Fantasy Masks AU: Chapter Eight

A JSE Fanfic

This chapter is pretty short (by my standards.) I sat down intending to get to the action, but I realized I couldn’t skip straight to it and there was all this other stuff that had to come first, so I decided to put all that into its own part and included some conversations between characters so it wasn’t just all exposition lol. Here, Chase and Henrik and a bunch of others all travel south, getting ready to rescue Marvin. Will they make it in time? Who knows? All I know is that shit’s going down soon. Enjoy this shorter part before that.

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Even though it was in the name, Chase hadn’t expected the flatlands to be so…flat.

It wasn’t as though he’d never been on flat ground before. The floors of houses were fixed, as were the grounds where farms raised their crops, and even in the mountains there were stretches of level land. But he’d never been in an area that was so consistently flat. It was a bit unusual. He felt out of his element. If he’d known it would be like this, he might not have agreed to join the group sent to rescue Marvin.

Of course, he was honored that Henrik asked him to come. He could tell that everyone else on this mission was much more experienced than he was. Henrik himself was coming, as were Lukas and Tripp, meaning about half the leadership of Wyvernlair was currently not there. A sign of how important this was. But still. Part of him couldn’t help but feel he might be a liability, being so far out of his element.

Keep reading

Radio Silence

Description: Amazed and overwhelmed by the new technologies that the other egos have introduced, JJ is happy to find some peace and solace in listening to the radio, and his new friend :)

(TW: No triggers this time, at least I think)

The sequence of beeps startled JJ out of his stupor of listening to a rather nice station, he blinked, a smile lighting on his face as he noted the frequency had changed, another sequence of beeps came through, and he hastily translated, writing it down via paper, and prepared his reply.

……-.. .-.. — / .— .- – . … — -. –..– / …. — .– / .- .-. . / -.– — ..- / - — -.. .- -.– ..–.. (Hello Jameson, how are you today?) The man blinked at the rather odd politeness, his newly discovered friend, who had called themselves ‘Ti’ in their first correspondence, always had something quirky to say as a greeting, but he assumed it was because they had a stressful day, he assumed their job was very hard, given that the messages he received were few and far-between.

.-. .- - ……-. / .– . .-.. .-.. –..– / – -.– / –. — — -.. / ..-. .-. .. . -. -.. –..– / .. … / … — – . - …. .. -. –. / - …. . / – .- - - . .-. ..–.. (Rather well, my good friend, is something the matter?) He tapped his foot impatiently, awaiting the answer he heard a knock on the door, “JJ buddy, we’re gonna have dinner in a few minutes, you have anything in mind? Cuz Jackie was just gonna make pasta again-” Chase’s voice called through the door, he walked up and opened the door, smiling at the tired looking ego, ‘Pasta sounds wonderful, my good sir!’ he motioned, a wonder, this Sign Language was, he marveled at its brilliance, but it was nice every now and again to sit down and be near what he could of the old times, “Alright bud, see ya downstairs in a bit.” Chase nodded, running down the hall, and once he was gone he could again hear the sequence, turning back towards the radio he once again translated the message.

-. — - …. .. -. –. –..– / .— ..- … - / .-. .- - ……-. / -… — .-. . -.. .-.-.- / .. .—-. …- . / -… . . -. / - …. .. -. -.- .. -. –. –..– / – .- -.– -… . / .– . / … …. — ..- .-.. -.. / – . . - .-.-.- (Nothing, just rather bored. I’ve been thinking, maybe we should meet.) His eyes widened, he had suggested meeting to Ti before, but the mysterious messenger was always insistent that they weren’t fun to hang out with, a thought he found preposterous, from what he had gathered, Ti was a wonderful individual, a fan of all the novels he had read, a rather clever wit if they could learn morse code, he would scoff at the thought if he could in fact, well, scoff. .. / .– — ..- .-.. -.. / -… . / -.…-.. .. –. …. - . -.. / - — / ..-. .. -. .- .-.. .-.. -.– / – . . - / ..-. .- -.-. . / - — / ..-. .- -.-. . –..– / .– …. .- - / - .. – . ..–.. (I would be delighted to finally meet face to face, what time?) He had always assumed Ti lived in the area, given they had talked about the same place for quite a long time, it had to be the case

.–…-. …. .- .–. … / - — – — .-. .-. — .– / – — .-. -. .. -. –. ..–.. / .. / …. .- …- . / - …. . / -.. .- -.– / ..-. .-… (Perhaps tomorrow morning? I have the day free) He grinned at that, it just so happened he had that day free as well, as Marvin wouldn’t have his next show until the afternoon, Schneep was busy doing shifts at the hospital, Chase had visitation with his children and Jackie would be out and about buying groceries, - …. .- - .—-. … / .–…-. ..-. . -.-. - –..– / .- -.-. - ..- .- .-.. .-.. -.– –..– / .– ……-. . / . -..- .- -.-. - .-.. -.– ..–.. (That’s perfect, actually, where exactly?) A static sound came from the frequency, loud and so intrusive it made JJ jump, followed by a cut-off bit of beeps -….- — -. .—-. - / –. — .-.-.- .-.-.- .-.-.- - .-. .- .–. another sequence followed rather speedily after that one .- …. –..– / – -.– / …. .- -. -.. / … .-.. .. .–. .–. . -.. / — -. / - …. .- - / — -. . –..– / -.. — -. .—-. - / - .-. .- -. … .-.. .- - . –..– / .. - … / .- / – . … … .-.-.- (ah, my hand slipped on that one, don’t translate, its a mess.) JJ who had just written down the sequence, quickly erased it, .–…-. …. .- .–. … / — ..- - … .. -.. . / - …. .- - / -.-. .- ..-. . / .– . / -… — - …. / .-.. .. -.- . ..–.. / .. .—-. …- . / -… . . -. / -.. -.– .. -. –. / ..-. — .-. / … — – . / -.-. — ..-. ..-… –..– / .-.. .- - . .-.. -.– .-.-.- (Perhaps outside that cafe we both like? I’ve been dying for some coffee, lately.) His stomach gurgled at the thought of a good cup of coffee as he remembered dinner was almost ready, he found he was slouching at the nice white noise in the background as he put his reply, … — ..- -. -.. … / .– — -. -.…-. ..-. ..- .-.. –..– / .. .—-. – / .- ..-. .-. .- .. -.. / .. / …. .- …- . / - — / –. . - / –. — .. -. –. / - …. — ..- –. …. –..– / -.. .. -. -…-. / .. … / .- .-.. – — … - / .-…- -.. -.– .-.-.- (Sounds wonderful, I’m afraid I have to get going though, dinner is almost ready.) He typed a quick farewell, leaving the radio on by total accident as another sequence of beeps followed, … . . / -.– — ..- / … — — -. –..– / .— .— / —… -.–.- 

The next day, after Marvin’s show…

Marvin walked into JJ’s room, concerned as to why he never showed up for his magic, the man had always enjoyed seeing the tricks he had pulled, as the radio played a song, it let out a static burst yet again, and the sequence itself was unmistakable.

… — …

… — …

.̙.͎.̩ ̙-̢-͜-͙ ̜.͓.̱.͕

(A/N: Oh no what happened to poor JJ?~ ;) Nah but seriously idk where this idea came from but take I guess? And again, if you would like to be removed or added to the tag list please let me know!)

Tag List: @anti-sharky @fairyofsomething @darcywillfindyou @char-arts-occasionally @miss-covert @pumpkin-demon @wyverwithy @ninjasinsocks@pyranoia @cai-the-savage777 @lonelyseiren @randowaffle

I’ve always adored the way you write hypnosis! Maybe...Anti hypnotizing Marvin to attack his brothers? Marvin’s the one who hates Anti the most so that’d be an interesting internal struggle.

The static was an ocean pouring through Marvin’s body, burning under his skin, razor-sharp behind his eyes and on his tongue. He was drowning, rational thought bobbing wildly on the surface for only a moment before another wave crashed down to swallow it. 

“S͘u̵b͝m͟i͡t̡͘…” Marvin’s head tossed back and forth like a wild horse as Anti grabbed fistfuls of his hair and pulled, the pain only blinding his senses further. “Y̡o͏ųr power is wor̀t҉hless. ́Yoųr̶ ̛r͝a̛g̴e͠ is͡ hel͝ples͏s. Yo͡u’re͠ fa̴r̷ too w̴eak to̵ d͘o ̡wha̴t̨ ̢nee̵d̡s to͘ b͏e̡ do̷ne!”

“I hate – I hate – ” Words were failing him. He was losing the struggle to breathe over the torrents. 

“Jac̕k͠ìeb̡oy ͠M̴an.” Anti could have laughed at the way his puppet froze, eyes wide with conflict and confusion. “You ͞h̀a̧te ͡Jack̷íeb́oỳ Ma͡n̡. You h͞a͝t͡e̕ Dr. ͘S̶chneep̧lest̡ei̵n. Ch҉asȩ ̡B҉ro̸dy̧. Ja҉mes͏o͜n ̴Jac͡ks͏on. Th͏e̵y͝ aban̷doned ̢yo̢u̵, le͏f̴t yoų ̷a̢s͜ ͝a ̢sac̢rificial lamb̶ for ̡m̧y͏ mer̨c̶y͠.” When Marvin shuddered, Anti pressed two talons hard against his temples, churning feedback into him until he was keening softly in pain. “They ͘b̴èt́r̴aye͜d y̛ou. The̕y̕ lèf̶t͡ yo̴u to ͏b͠e͞ ͜tan҉gl̡ed i͜n̶ my s͠t͢r͝ings…It's͝ onl̴y fa̶ir ̧that ͜yo̴u show t҉h͝e͡m w͞h̨at i̧t̴ wil̀l ̢co͝st.”

The Alchemist and the Thief

Jameson and Marvin as they appear in the Pirate AU. I decided Marvin would normally go with a darker, more subtle mask, but definitely has special ones for special occasions. But this one is cloth and softer on his burns.

When he’s not dealing with clients, Jameson is the most reclusive of recluses, so whenever Marvin is back on shore he’s sure to drag his twin out of his lab for at least one night on the town.

Jameson is taller and thinner than Marvin, who has a more muscular frame from living on the seas and all those years of manual labor. Jameson is also not very touchy-feeling or good with emotions, but Marvin is - while being incredibly traumatized physically - equally as touched starved, so he’s like a leech on his brother when they are together. And Jameson, surprisingly, doesn’t really mind.

Maybe “Guilty”, a scenario where Jackie realized poor JJ is starving after giving his precious big brother his food?

It didn’t take much exertion of Jackie’s enhanced hearing to catch the unhappy growling of Jameson’s stomach. The gentleman immediately turned red, pressing his arm against his middle as if to stifle the noise as Jackie glanced over in surprise. “You okay?”

“Yes, I…I’m fine,” he mumbled queasily. Jackie’s brows knit at his pale complexion and the way he fidgeted, curling in on himself. Just a little while ago, he had said he wasn’t hungry and pawned off his bowl of soup. Why did he look so jittery now?

“Jameson…” he began, concern taking over as he rose from his chair. “Did you get anything else to eat after you gave me the soup?”

“T-There was nothing else. The shopping’s not been done.”

“What? Why didn’t you tell me?! I could’ve run to the store to get something for you and been back by now!” Running a hand through his hair, he stuttered, guilt sinking like a rock in his – full, satisfied – stomach. “Seriously, why didn’t you say something?!”

“I didn’t want to impose or make a fuss,” he protested weakly, wincing as his stomach whined again. “This is your day off work, your day to rest, and you deserved a fine meal to enjoy – ”

“My day off doesn’t mean anything to me if you’re here making yourself sick for my sake! That’s not right!” Grabbing his jacket and the nearest paper and pen, he shoved the latter at him as he wrangled the clothing on. “Write down what you want. Anything. I’m going to get it right now.”

All the boys!!!

Chapter Four Masterlist

Book Four ran from August 15, 2020 to January 16, 2021.

The number of posts included was 1,034. Including asks, this equaled a total word count of 206,420. Combining the other chapters gives MBC a total word count of 615,727 words at the time of finishing Chapter Four.

Chapter Four title was: the Witch’s Promise

This chapter has been broken into multiple sections and consolidated into fic format. To read, see the section links below. Or, find the Chapter One masterlist here, the Chapter Two masterlist here, and the Chapter Three masterlist here.

Intro

Part One: Reversal

Part Two: In the Silence Between

Part Three: the Shadow in the Forest

Part Four: Dark's Memory

Part Five: Haloperidol

Part Six: Grantaire

Part Seven: Aftermath

Part Eight: the Invasion

Part Nine: the Locked Room

Part Ten: the Houses in the Woods

Part Eleven: Soul-Shifter

Part Twelve: Jack's Protagonist

Part Thirteen: Chase

Part Fourteen: Gone

Thank you, as always, for writing this story with me.

Drowning

Jameson can hardly stand to breathe—no, he can hardly even stand, tumbling under wave after wave of input and information and noise. The constant noise. He cannot fathom how greedy this modern world is for its noise—as if they need to drown out the silence.

In silence, he is drowning.

Vehicles are honking, screeching, backfiring, roaring and rumbling. Streetlights flash. Advertisements in brazen colors and blinking signs on every window of every building. Strains of music tangle together from the doors of competing restaurants. The clashing smells of food, grease, petrol and cigarette smoke carrying further down the block could make one ill.

In the park nearby children are laughing and crying and shrieking and shoving each other, their feet thundering as they run through the hissing sprinklers. Their parents chatter and gossip on the creaking benches. Dogs are barking, yapping, shaking, panting, and growling, rattling the fence around their play area.

Jameson chokes up when he feels his telephone buzz in his pocket. There are so many telephones; they’re everywhere, all around him, ringing, beeping, blipping. Somewhere nearby there is the white flash of a camera. He stops up short, eyes blinded, and suddenly everyone is bumping him, jostling, touching. The stench of perfume and deodorant and sweat and body heat, closing in on him. The wind is picking up, whistling over it all, cold, unceasing, its pitch feverishly rising, rising, rising, rising—

When he first feels arms lock around him, he struggles. It’s the tactile equivalent of scratching in the walls, squeaking styrofoam, sandpaper tearing at his skin and he can’t breathe, he can’t escape, he can’t—

“Shhh…Shh.” Chase’s whisper is louder than the wind, louder than Jameson’s wild heartbeat. His shirt is soft and he smells like cocoa powder. “Hold onto me.”

Jameson buries his face against his shoulder and holds on tight.

"Why are you resisting?" Anti please!

Green – red – white – black – The world around him had been swallowed up in those clashing, blinding colors. Jameson’s eyes and ears were pounding, stirring hot sparks of pain as he shook his head against the intrusion, but it felt as if the more he fought it, the harder it became to form his own thoughts. Worse, the monster was turning them against him, whispering them back in the static as his words.

Not…a puppet!

“A pu̡p̨̧p̵̵̶e̵͟͜t…A pup̡̕͡ṕ̸͞ȩt…”

Leave me…alone…

“A͡l͜o͏͘n̡͡e…A͜͢lwa̸̵ỳs͜ ̶̧͡a̡lơņ̵e…”

With every passing moment he could feel his body falling number and limper in Anti’s grasp, knees buckling. With mocking gentleness Anti lowered him down, letting him kneel. Using what little strength he had left, Jameson shook his heavy head once more, slurring something too garbled and pained for his speech slides to catch. Green, red, white, black –

“Why͜ aŕ̀e͘ ̨ỳơu̶̶ r̛es͟i̧͜͠s̨̀t͏͏͢i̵̕n͡g͠? T͠͡he p̴á͠i̧n͢ ̴oņ̀͡l͘͟y la̛şt̸͢͡s͞ ̡͡a͜s̢ lon̴̢g͝ ą̵͘ş̢ yo̵u ̷f͠i̡g͠h̴͘t ̷i̸̡t̷̀, b͞҉͠oy.” 

With the faintest of strokes to Jameson’s cheek, the static changed, drawing a faint gasp. It smoothed and quickened within him, pouring to the tips of his toes and filling him to the crown of his head. At the very edge of his mind, however, there was a gap, a gap that hurt – the last resistance. It hammered between his eyes, aching, screaming. He stood on a precipice with a wave of static frozen over him. Green, red, white, black –

The wave…It would feel so good, it would soothe that last pain.

Green – red – white – black.

W̶e̴à͠k̀͜ – b͜͏l͢e̸̶̕e͏ḑ – f̡̡́ơ͘r͢ge̴̛t – s͜le̴e̡p.

The wave crashed and he drowned in it.

Promise

Part 25 of My Brother's Keeper

(Part 1 l Previous l Next)

“It hurts,” groans Henrik, writhing on his bed. “It hurts.”

Chase clings to his hands, stopping him from clawing at his face. “I know,” he whispers, exhausted. “I'm sorry, man.”

“It hurts, it hurts, it hurts too much, master, stop, master, I'm sorry.”

“It's me, it's Chase.”

“I didn't mean to, I didn't mean to!”

“You didn't do anything wrong.”

“Hurts, hurts, hurts.”

“I know,” he whispers, exhausted. “I'm sorry, man.”

A sudden change flashes through Henrik's face. He creeps forward on the bed, baring his teeth.

“So much fucking flesh on you,” he hisses, his accent dissipating and his pitching rising and falling in spasms. “I hate your scarlessness. I want to trace the outlines of your bone into every centimeter of your skin.”

Chase watches him, dead-eyed, from the other side of the room. Henrik rocks himself, clutching his shoulders, turned away from him.

“Stupid fucking boy,” hisses Henrik, his voice rising and falling strangely, like there's a voice changer switching channels in his throat. “Stupid fucking drunkard. Abandoned little dog, don't you want a new master?”

“You're not Anti,” says Chase, softly, a plate of pasta growing cold on the bedside drawer next to him. “Come get something to eat, Schneep. Henrik. Schneeplestein.”

“Stupid boy!” screams Henrik, tearing at his hair. “Your master won't wake up until I am underneath his skin!”

Chase gets slowly to his feet and rounds the bed. Gentle, he pulls Henrik's hands from his hair, eliciting a low groan of agony. “You're not Anti,” he repeats, holding up a forkful of pasta. “Open up.”

“I want Jack, I want Jack, I want to taste every cell of his fucking blood!”

“How about mac and cheese first?” suggests Chase dryly, pressing the fork to his mouth, until at last, Henrik opens up, growling, and eats.

“Stupid fucking boy...”

“You're not Anti.”

Level, steady. Stay with him, take care of him. He stabs another forkful of macaroni. I owe him this and more. “You're not Anti, Schneep. Henrik. Brother. Eat.”

Henrik's eyes burn with hatred as they look up at him. Chase ignores it steadfastly, pressing the bite towards his mouth, and as Henrik eats, some of the rage drains from his grey face.

“Ch-chase?” he chokes around macaroni.

“Shhh. I'm here.”

“I d-don't feel good. What's happening to me?”

“You're a little sick, man. Just eat, okay? I'm going to take care of you.”

“You're going to take care of me?”

“Me and JJ.”

Chase turns to smile at his little brother, watching from the corner. “We're going to take care of you. Right, Jamie?”

Jameson meets his eyes resolutely, trying to straighten up, because even if Henrik sometimes scares him like this, he is determined.

He loves him.

Yes.

They manage to get Henrik to sleep that night, after Stacy and the kids have left. Chase looks up at JJ, his hand settled in Henrik's hair, watching over him.

“It's going to be a long couple of weeks,” Chase warns, looking exhausted already. “He'll be a lot to handle.”

“That's okay,” says JJ. “I'm here.”

He is.

He will stay.

Marvin made him promise.

---------------

Chase sets up a sleeping bag for JJ that night – he refuses to be parted from Henrik's side, and Chase plans to sleep beside Henrik in the bed in case he becomes violent – and he goes to check on Jackie, wondering if he's still conked out on flu medicine. He isn't. He looks up when Chase enters his room, sitting on the end of his bed.

“Jackie,” says Chase softly. “Are you okay?”

Jackie glances back at him, shaking his head minutely. Chase moves to his side and hugs him tightly.

“Jameson,” croaks Jackie.

“He's fine. He's downstairs. Just got overwhelmed, I think.”

“Schneep?”

Chase pauses, rubbing Jackie's back, but he knows his brother won't let up until he knows.

“It's the possession withdrawal again,” he says.

Jackie's expression shatters. He leans his head against Chase's chest, hiding his face.

“It's going to be okay, man,” whispers Chase.

“Nothing is ever going to be okay again,” croaks Jackie. “Marvin is gone.”

Chase has to cover his mouth to keep from sobbing, his eyes sliding shut. Fuck. Fuck.

“I want my little brother,” cries Jackie, clinging to his shirt.

“I know, Jackie,” sobs Chase, because he doesn't know what to say. “I want him too.”

On God, he would give up most everything in the world to have Marvin here with him now. He can feel the memory of his brother's hand on his shoulder, keeping him steady.

He gets Jackie water and macaroni and makes him eat it. Jackie will not stop crying and Chase does not blame him. He understands. Jackie tries more than once to insist that he will get his own food, get his own water, he will watch Henrik tonight, he will let Chase be the one grieving, he will do this and this and this. But his fever is strong enough that Jackie can't follow through on much of anything. Maybe, in that sense, the fever is a small blessing. Chase pushes him back into bed and gathers up his dishes.

“Chaser, don't go,” begs Jackie.

“Oh, Jacks,” sighs Chase. “Man, I gotta stay with Henrik so he doesn't hurt himself.”

“Oh,” says Jackie in a small voice. “Yes. Of course.”

“You could come sleep in his room with the rest of us, though,” offers Chase, brushing sweaty hair from Jackie's forehead. “I'll get the other sleeping bag, okay?”

“No,” answers Jackie dully. “Jameson doesn't want me around.”

Chase sighs again and sits back down on the edge of Jackie's bed.

“Jackie,” he says softly. “JJ's just scared and overwhelmed, and Anti told him a lot of bad shit about you. I know he's breakin' your heart, man... just don't give up on him, okay?”

Jackie stares up at him, his eyes red.

“Hey,” says Chase, clucking his chin. “Promise me, okay?”

Jackie looks away, sniffling. “Okay, Chase. I guess.”

“How about the cats, yeah? I can bring the cats to you.”

“Yes,” says Jackie, rubbing at his face. “Yes, please. The cats.”

Chase puts the dishes away and finds Athanasius and Queenie, carrying them up to Jackie's room. By the time he has deposited them in Jackie's bed, his brother is already asleep.