Septic Egos - Tumblr Posts - Page 2
Gratitude (Jackieboy Man x GN! Reader x Darkiplier) -Part 1
(Semi-inspired by this fic)
You sat at your desk, fingers tapping against the keyboard. Your mind wasn't focused on your work in the slightest. Your phone buzzed with a notification from instagram, bored out of your mind and curious you picked it up and unlocked it, tapping the notification. What you saw caused you to drop your phone onto the ground, cracking the screen protector. In the livestream was Jackie, or his hero persona 'Jackieboy Man' at some swanky party. Now you understood why he never showed up like he'd promised.
Usually you'd brush it off as part of his 'hero duties' but this time was unacceptable. Just a few days before, you'd been nominated for a prize after submitting some of your art into a competition and Jackie had promised to celebrate with you at your favorite coffee shop, but evidently being a fuckboy was more important to him. You frowned, a sting of hurt rising up in your chest. You stood up and grabbed your coat, deciding against locking the door to your apartment while leaving for the coffee shop nearby.
You were mad at Jackie sure, but that didn't mean he should sit out in the cold. You were still friends. Right? God how you hated how you felt whenever Jackie called you his friend. You felt so much more for him than he would ever for you, and it hurt.
You sighed, sitting down at a table while you waited for your drink to cool down. You felt so ignored by him. Nowadays it was like he cared more about being famous than he did about your friendship, it made you miss the earlier days of his heroing career when he'd actually make time to hang out. It wasn't like that anymore though, was it? The only time you really got to spend any time with him was for healing his wounds and fixing his costume if it got ripped.
"My apologies for bothering you, but is this seat taken?"
We doing demon boy vs hero boy
Egotober Day 1 - Puppet 🧵
THIS IS SO CUTE I LOVE CHASE
Spirits
In my defense, it was a fantastic pun. And sometimes you just gotta pour one out for the homies. On a different note, I hurt my own feelings writing this.
Ghost!Chase x GN!Reader, TW: alcohol, grief, death, funeral mention, human experimentation mention Words: 870
You get out of your car in the graveyard parking lot, the anniversary of Chase’s death. It’s gotten a little easier over the years, but it’s still hard to believe he’s gone. You take the grocery bag out of the back seat, heading through the gates to find his grave. You know where it is, your feet almost take you there by themselves, you’ve walked the path so many times. That laboratory deemed his death a “non-preventable casualty” and refused to give any details, and something inside you has told you it wasn’t an accident.
You pull your hood over your ears, the chill autumn air sending shivers down your spine. Just like you do every year, you stare at his gravestone, almost like you’re processing all over again that he’s truly gone. Like you never fully believed it. And you don’t even know if you ever will. You set the bag down, getting down on one knee as you rustle through it. From the bag you pull out a bottle of whiskey, an energy drink, and a small bouquet of flowers. Old flowers are discarded, long dried out and abandoned. You hold the beverages in your hands, staring at the labels. They’re his favorites, ironic how the drinks you tried to get him to stop drinking end up being the things you bring to his grave.
You pop the cork of the whiskey and open the can of energy drink, watching as the two pour out onto the ground, sinking deep into the ground. Something about it feels, good almost. Making a danger cocktail for him, exactly like the ones he used to try and get you to drink. When there’s nothing more than a few sips in each left, you down them yourself, making a face but, you do it for him.
You get comfortable, talking to him about how life has been this year. The ups, the downs, how you still check on his brothers for him. Trying to do best by him while also living your life. It’s a difficult balance, but you have support keeping you upright. When you run out of things to say, you set the whiskey bottle on the lip of the headstone, placing the flowers inside. It’s what he would’ve wanted. As you walk away, something inside you pulls you back, looking at his name on the stone. Through tears, you give him one last fistbump, for old time’s sake.
You step away, wiping your eyes on your sleeve as you take your trash back to your car.
“WAIT-“
You stop in your tracks, not believing what you heard. Maybe you shouldn’t have drank the whiskey and energy drink…
“Dude! I know you can hear me!”
You spin around to be faced with an apparition of Chase, ghostly blue but he almost looks solid in the evening light.
“Chase-“
You cautiously reach out to him, hand colliding with his chest. He’s cold, but he’s there. Your hands move to his shoulders, looking at him through tears before pulling him into a hug. All you can manage out are sobs, apologies, scoldings for leaving you without him, anything you can think to say to him now that you know he’s listening.
“Hey, it’s okay. I’m okay. Well, I’m not, I’m a ghost. But I thought you could help me with that…”
The idea of getting your friend back makes your heart leap, maybe, maybe you could fix things between the two of you. Confess the things you always wanted to.
“Yeah, yeah. Whatever you need, dude.”
“My body… isn’t here. It’s still at the facility. I didn’t even know I had a grave, although I guess I should’ve expected that.”
“It- it’s not here!?”
You fish through your memories of the funeral, realizing you never saw Chase in that casket. The top was always closed.
“They said the lid was closed because you were disfigured…”
“Yeah that’s a load of bullshit. They were the ones that killed me. They’re trying to use my body as a vessel for… something.”
Your face is a mixture of horror and disgust, which makes Chase chuckle a little bit.
“So… we’re breaking your body out of prison?”
“I mean, that’s one way of putting it.”
“And your brothers? They’ll want to see you. Want to help.”
“I know! I know! But, I wanted to see you first. I didn’t realize you still cared.”
“I always cared, Chase. No matter what your thoughts said. I thought I was waiting for you to come back to me emotionally, not spiritually…”
“I’m sorry, I wanted to. But, they grabbed me. The facility-“
“You need to talk to Henrik about that, later. Right now, I have my boy back. And we’ll get your body back, I promise.”
“Your boy… I forgot you called me that.”
“As long as you’ll let me.”
“Always. Please.”
You look at each other for a moment, before you pull him to your chest, kissing the top of his head.
“Let's get you home. See your brothers. Marv will be able to help in the short term.”
“You’re staying, right?”
“Wouldn’t leave you even if they decided it was my turn to go to that facility.”
i'm going to turn anti into a plot device
Racing Pigeon
Chase felt the wind batter his face and he zipped through the woods. He knew he was ahead in the race, wings beating quickly, tucking in to get through spots that where to tight for others racers through giving a head up during races. He was from a family of racing pigeon and wore his dad’s green race suit which fit him like a glove, a small skull embroidered on it.
He caught his wing on a branch and a grey father fell off his wing and a curse brushed his lips, this was a world wide known race, he was still shocked he made it this far. The wind whistled in his ears as he continued to swerve through the trees, heart hammering in his chest.
He didn’t expect what happened next.
A branch fell onto him. A big heavy mass of wood fell on him, a world class racer. He let out a yelp and felt a wing crack when the branch hit him causing him to plummet and pinning him to the floor, pain shooting through is body like hot, white fire. He took a few ragged breaths and tried to move. He couldn’t.
His breathing became faster as he started to worry, he could not seem to be able to get enough air in his lungs. His eyes watered and lungs stung. He wriggled and squirmed but was unable to move as each twitch of the muscles in his back sent waves of pain across his body. What if he couldn’t fly again? How would his family react, How would his Dad react? A Brody unable to fly, it would be a disgrace!
Something wet rolled down his face as he tried to hold himself still, still unable to breath his vision was going as fuzzy as his thoughts, black spots popping up. He couldn’t hear the surroundings, it was as if he was underwater, everything seemed so quite, so, distant. Breaths short and sharp and felt cold and painful, his head pounded. A sob escaped his throat at some point. He was alone, who would find him here? Was he going to die? He didn’t want to die. Thoughts swirled, he was scared, so  bloody  scared.
Then he noticed some movement. It was’t an animal, too big, well he hoped it wasn’t an animal because he couldn’t think of anything that big that was nice. It was dressed in a red t-shirt and dark beige shorts. He looked confused as if he had just walked upon him and a small determined frown appeared on his face
“Hey, I’m gonna try and move this branch, you think you can move?”Â
Chase nodded quickly, the sooner was off the better. The man came closer and chase noticed his short trimmed beard and mustache, His wings where neatly tucked and a woody brown, lighter on the underside. The man put two hands under the branch.
“Okay, 1, 2 ,3, GO!” The man lifted and Chase wiggled from underneath as the man dropped it on the dirt, both of them panting “Hey... I’m Jackie” the man- Jackie said.
“I’m chase, thanks” His voice was hoarse and weak with exhaustion and pain. His wing was bent awkwardly as the line of black feathers was no longer solid or straight. Jackie reached into a leather messenger bag slung over his shoulder and took out a water bottle and passed it to him.
“What you doing out here? I normally never see anyone when I go berry picking” Jackie asked as Chase took long swigs of water.Â
“I was racing, taking a shortcut” He said between sips. “Guess I missed the time to get to the checkpoint” he let out a weak laugh, Jackie just frowned. “What are you anyway?”
“A robin, why?” the other man had stood up
“Wait, a robin, how did you lift that branch?” Chase eyes widened. The other man just shrugged.
Finally Chase stood up, ignored the pain that shot down his back and looked round. All he could see was trees for miles but he had a sense of the direction he needed to go, he was a pigeon after all. The other man looked at him. “Want to get outta here?”
“Yeah” Chase replied, he had enough of forests today.
My first fanart of our dear Marvin the Magnificent.
I'd like to thank @inspiredrawaw for granting me permission to take inspiration from their wonderful Marvin and use it in a cosplay! I absolutely loved the constellation cape on her Marvin, and I think mine turned out pretty well.
It me drinking milk :-)
Totally reading a spell book and not just a random book I snatched off of my Dad's bookshelf.
Mysterious cape holding action :0
Once again, I'm really appreciative for @inspiredrawaw for letting me use the constellation cape in my cosplay. Drawaw, if you're reading this I hope you liked how it turned out :'-)
-some epic progress pics of cosplay-
FAILED TIMELIFE
A short fanfic in which Jack gets erased from the universe, and within minutes, the story adjusts itself, and Henrik loses all memory of him ever existing.
Trying to work with the current canon events, so I thought of a concept, in which c!Jack gets erased from the timeline mid-story!
This is loosely inspired by Doki Doki Literature Club, specifically how Sayori was erased from the game, and then the script had to work itself around that gap.
Henrik carefully opened the door to the hospital room, where he found Jack still lying on the bed, unconscious. Every time, he hoped it would be different. That things could go back to normal...
...But, they never did.
“Top of zhe mornin', Jack...!”
“You know... Chase has grown tired of imitating you, your fans miss you, we miss you. Have you ever thought of zhat? Well, you should've thought about it before zu went up and died...!”
...Henrik sighed. Being mad at the circumstances wasn't going to change anything, but if things continued down this route, he might have to just... Give up, and let Jack go.
He really didn't want to consider that as an option just yet.
He administered some medicine through the IV drip before walking out of the room, heading right back to his office.
He was still studying Jack's records, trying desperately to understand what he was missing. His brain wasn't supposed to do that, his heart wasn't supposed to beat like that...
Suddenly... His computer turned off, and...
...
What? What was he doing again? He swore it was something important, so why couldn't he remember...
Oh! Right, he was studying [][][][]'s records...
...Whose records? Wait...
What was going on? Why couldn't he remember his name? Henrik tried to think, but he just couldn't piece his memories together. This man... He couldn't remember anything about him. His name, his face- It was like his memories were suddenly tampered with.
Henrik scratched the back of his head in confusion as he sat up from his chair and stepped out of his office, heading back to the hospital room he had left moments prior. The patient was in this room- So if he just walked inside, he should be able to refresh his memory.
...What?
There was... No one there.
The hospital room was completely empty, with no sign of anyone ever being there to begin with. What just happened? Had Henrik lost his mind? But he swore there was someone...
Maybe he had just gotten too tired from work.
...
...Why was he in this room again?
Welcome back to Bro Average, Chase!
You just killed your own family. Isn't that cool?
Don't even worry about doubting yourself. I've got it all on video.
Enjoy the show.
Some Anti doodles on Whiteboard Fox plus a possessed Chase Brody, as a treat
I love this with a passion
Chase do a yeehaw :D